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keanusbabydoll · 22 days ago

Note

Hey, I saw your latest post about daryl hunting the reader through the woods, and it inspired me to make my own ask. If you have time, would you do a daryl x plussize!reader where she's looking at her outfit and body in the mirror and just, doesn't like what she sees, so daryl fucks her in front of it to prove she's beautiful to him? Feel free to pass on this if you don't like it though.

FUCKIN’ PERFECT GIRL

a/n: i’m deeply sorry for keeping you on wait, love! i hope you like it xxx

paring: daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, loads of ‘fucks’, insecure reader, swearing, rough sex, age gap, dom!daryl

wordcount: 2.9k

mdni

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚

just yesterday, deanna announced that there will be a party at her house today. to you, it seemed like something out of a fantasy. growing up in the apocalypse, your world had been nothing but survival- days spent on scavenging, hiding and fighting. the idea of music, food and laughter with people you loved in a safe, enclosed space felt foreign.

a few months ago, you found a beautiful short black dress on a hunt and tonight felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

as daryl headed over to rick’s to discuss something important, you stood in the bathroom, putting on all the make up the girls had collected over some time. tonight you wanted to feel normal, forget about the fact that you were living in a fucked up world. hell, this was the first time you were actually getting ready. finally, as you adjusted your hair for the last time, you got out of the bathroom and went over to your wardrobe to pull out the dress.

a smile played on your lips as you admired it, you were looking forward for daryl to come back. you knew that he would love the idea of you in a short dress. you slid into it, the fabric hugging your curves tightly as you zipped it up. adjusting the hem, you glanced in the mirror and felt your stomach drop. the reflection staring back at you wasn’t what you’d hoped to see. the snugness of the dress emphasized every inch of your body, highlighting areas you always tried to downplay. your belly, your thighs— insecurities you always tried to ignore began to bubble up.

your thoughts wandered off to rosita and maggie, their toned figures and effortless confidence. comparing yourself to them only deepened your doubt. tears blurred your vision as you quickly wiped them away, scolding yourself for letting this thoughts consume you.

the sound of the front door opening and closing snapped you from your spiral. daryl must’ve come back from rick’s. you carefully wiped at your tears, not wanting to ruin your make up and not wanting him to see you like this. moments later, the bedroom door creaked open. “hey, ya ready?” daryl’s gruff voice gave you tingles immediately. you turned toward him, quickly composing yourself. “yeah, i’m ready,” you replied, forcing a smile.

but daryl wasn’t buying it.

his piercing blue eyes studied you, narrowing as he stepped closer. “don’t do that.” he muttered. “do what?” you asked, feigning confusion. “lie to me.” his voice was firm but not harsh. you knew better than lying to him, he knew you like the back of his hand, but you didn’t have the strength to be honest with him. it was eating you up.

you turned back to the mirror, avoiding his gaze. “it’s nothing, daryl. i’m fine.”

he crossed the room in two strides, gripping your chin firmly, turning your face toward him. “don’t look like nothin’ to me.” he said, his voice low, “what’s going on?”

you hesitated, but the weight of your emotions made it impossible to hold back. “it’s just… this dress. i hate how i look. my body’s—“

“stop,” he immediately interrupted, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch. his hands gripped your shoulders, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. “don’t ever talk ‘bout yourself like that. ya hear me?” you opened your mouth to protest, but he didn’t give you the chance. “you’re perfect.” he growled, “every damn inch of you.”

“daryl i—“

“no.” he spun you around to face the mirror. “look,” he commanded, his hands settling on your waist. you shook your head, tears threading to spill again. “i don’t see what you see.” “well, you’re ‘bout to.” he muttered darkly. his hands began to roam over your sides, his calloused fingers tracing the curves of your hips, the dip of your waist. “you think i don’t notice every damn thing ‘bout you?” he asked you, his voice thick with frustration and something deeper. “don’t you see how crazy you make me by just standin’ there?”

you shivered at his words, your breath hitching as his hands moved lower, gripping your thighs possessively. “this?” daryl said, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh. “this drives me fuckin’ wild. every damn part of you does.” your cheeks burned but he wasn’t near done. his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “you’re mine. all of this is mine. and i ain’t gonna let you tear yourself apart over something’ so fuckin’ stupid.”

“but daryl—“ you tried to argue, but he silenced you with a sharp tug, pulling you back against his chest. “shut up.” he growled. “gonna show you how beautiful you are.” he guided your hands to the huge mirror, pressing them flat against the against the glass. “look at yourself,” he ordered. “look at how good you look it that dress. look at how much i want you.” your eyes flickered to the mirror, catching his reflection. his intense gaze bore into yours as his hands roamed your body, sliding over the fabric of the dress like it was the most precious piece ging he’d ever touched.

“daryl…” you breathed, your voice trembling. sparks ignited everywhere you felt his touch, heading straight to your core. “you’re mine.” he repeated, his voice a low rasp. “and i ain’t gonna let you doubt that again.” his hand slipped beneath the them of your dress, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your hips. with his other hand he pressed your ass further into him. you gasped, feeling his fully erect cock pressing directly against you as your eyes locked with his in the mirror. “see what you do to me?” he murmured, his lips slowly trailing along your neck.

you leaned into his touch, letting him take in your whole body. he slowly hitched your dress up, letting it rest just above your panties. your eyes followed his movements through the mirror, breath stocking when he abruptly pulled your thong all the way down. you immediately stepped out of it, pushing it aside. daryl continued to nip at your flesh as he softly let his fingers glide over your pussy, grazing your clit. he almost lost it when he felt your wetness on the tip of his fingers, knowing too damn well how much control he had over you.

“so wet for me.” he growled, biting down on your bare shoulder. two of his digits teased at your entrance, collecting your slick while running them up and down. “please.” your plea sent tingles straight to his cock— he always loved it when you begged him.

then, daryl easily slipped one finger inside your hot walls, immediately adding a second one. your head flew back against his chest at the feeling, a quiet moan escaping your lips. he immediately curled his fingers upward, pressing firmly against your g-spot. “feel good?” he asked, not moving a single muscle.

“yess, please daryl.” you whined out, needing him to finally stimulate you. a dark chuckle rang through your ears as he began to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt, your knees twitching at the sudden pleasure. “oh my god.” you cried, making him speed up his thrusts. “look at yourself.” he snarled as his free hand pushed your head forward again. you immediately opened your eyes and stared back at your reflection. again, they fell down to his hand, a moan leaving your lips as you saw how hard he finger-fucked you.

the wet, squelching sounds your pussy made, made it even harder for daryl to control himself. but your pleasure was his first priority. he pressed his cock harder into your ass, trying to gain any friction as he growled into your neck. your gaze wandered up to him and when you found him already staring at you, shivers erupted over your whole body. oh, how much you needed his thick cock to fill you up and fuck your brains out. he never failed to get you aroused or stupid for his cock.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot, baby.” daryl said as he pulled his fingers out of you, eliciting a whine from you. he brought his digits to his mouth, licking them clean, a hum escaping his lips at your sweet taste. “need you, daryl.” you whimpered, your eyes pleading him as well.

that was all he needed to hear. his good little girl was gonna get exactly what she wanted. and he was going to make sure that you would never even get the idea to think that your body isn’t perfect.

he hastily opened his belt and pulled his pants down along with his boxers. you turn your head, looking over your shoulder to see his painfully hard cock finally freed, his redend tip was covered in pre-cum. your core began to ache even more, your mouth watering at his sight.

“‘m gonna make you feel so good, princess.” he purred as he pushed your legs apart and stepping right behind you. his hand gently spread one of your ass cheeks, his eyes darkening at the view of your slick hole desperately clenching around nothing. with his other hand he guided his top to your entrance, getting his tip wet. he held intense eye contact with you as he slowly pushed in, your wetness making it easy for him.

a sharp hiss fell from your lips, his cock splitting you in two sent tingles through your whole body. with a rough thrust, daryl plunged his whole length inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix. you would never get used to his size, every time you guys fucked it felt like your first time. daryl gripped your hips tightly with one hand while his other one reached around your middle, rubbing your clit in slow circles.

as soon as the first moan rang through his ears, he began to move his hips in a steady pace, the sharp sound of skin clapping together erupting in the room. your hands immediately gripped the sides of the mirror harder, your eyes shutting close.

“my fuckin’ pretty baby,” he growled directly into your ear, speeding his fingers on your clit up,“open your eyes and look at how perfect you are.”

your eyes immediately snapped open and you stared at your reflection, daryl fucking you roughly from behind while stimulating your clit. the way he admired your whole form made you almost orgasm at the sight of it. he possessively gripped your waist, signing you that your body was the most perfect one he’d ever laid his eyes on.

“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he grunted, pressing open- mouthed kisses along your shoulders. “say it, doll. tell me how pretty you are.”

your mind was too preoccupied by his rough pounds and expert fingers which sent you straight to heaven. but the thought of your body, made you uneasy again. but daryl didn’t like that. “daryl- i can’t—“

in a flash his hand, which was previously set on your waist, was now wrapped tightly around your throat. you gasped out, a strangled whine leaving your lips.”yeah, you can. ain’t stoppin’ to fuck you till you say it.” daryl commanded darkly, his voice low and intimidating, his grip just getting tighter and tighter and his thrusts were getting more and more aggressively with every second you didn’t answer him.

“i-i’m perfect.” you managed to squeak out, caught between pleasure and self contentiousness. “louder.” daryl mumbled against your neck. “i’m perfect.” you repeated, this time with more conviction.

“and?” he prompted, his pounds getting harsher.

“and i’m— i’m pretty.” you squealed, feeling your orgasm slowly approach. “damn right, you are.” he stated, giving you a kiss on your cheek, his grip on your throat loosening. he could feel your walls clamping down on him, squeezing his cock deliciously. your legs began to tremble and your arms threatened to give out. daryl pushed your hips further back, arching your back a little bit— only for him to hit the special spot deep inside of you that made you orgasm in seconds. “fuck, daryl! don’t stop!” you swear you could feel him in your guts, a beautiful mix of pain and intense pleasure.

your cheeks were coated with tears as you felt your brain fog up in the most blessing way. “you gonna cum?” you nodded your head rapidly, your eyes fixated on yourself through the mirror. your make up was a mess and your body was wrecking beneath him. “cum on my cock, baby.” he continued to pound into you, his pace never relenting, chasing his own release.

he let go of your throat and turned your face to the side, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. muffled and high pitched cries tore from your throat as you were at the verge of cumming, desperately craving your release. daryl was close himself, the feeling of your velvety, slippery walls, making his dick twitch. then, with a last flick of his fingers, your coil snapped and a loud moan passed your lips as your walls spasmed around his cock rapidly.

the feeling of it sent daryl straight over the edge, a deep grunt echoing off the walls as he spilled every last drop of his seed deep inside of you. your head fell forward exhaustedly, your chest heaving intensely as you tried to calm down from your high. daryl’s thrusts slowed down and his fingers on your clit removed.

when the last wave of his and your orgasmed crashed through you, he stopped his movements, taking a deep breath. “good girl.” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin. his hands caressed your hips as he carefully pulled out of you, a silent whine passing your lips.

“ain’t gonna ever let you leave this room if i hear somethin’ stupid like that again.” he told you with a firm voice but with a hint of gentleness, referring to what you had said about yourself earlier. “am i clear?”

“yes, daryl.” you mumbled between shallow breaths. “my fuckin’ perfect girl.” he smirked as he helped you adjust your dress and kissed your lips lovingly once again.

daryl would make sure that you would never ever doubt yourself again. to him, no one in this fucked up world would have had a chance to change his mind about you and your pretty little body.

requests are opened<3

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torturedtypewritersdept · 17 days ago

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a fucked up sort of eden - pt. one

✯ pairing:

firefighter!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

Rafe Cameron was good on his own, steady and sure, despite his adrenaline based nature; he was good on his own. His sisters long line of blind dates on his behalf leads him to you and from the very moment you walk out on the dinner, he knows he will never be the same again.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, domestic violence (not rafe), injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, firefighter!rafe, past abuse, awkward!rafe, firefighter lingo, smut, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this first chapter was originally posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here and will finally be continuing the rest of the series :)

–

The drag of your sneakers across the cement is the only sound that could be heard, dirt and grime scraping beneath the white rubber as you closed your car door and grabbed your purse, your feet carrying you across the parking lot to the large tombstone shaped double doors of the restaurant. As you entered, the lights were dim, a small, iridescent glow over the brown leather-clad booth that the pretty waitress had led you to. You wondered for a brief second if the stranger you were meeting would think she was pretty, too. Or, if he’d be different; if his actions would be in contrast to the way Taylor behaved. You hoped it would. She moved her hands in an outward motion, instructing you to sit down with the gesture and you obliged awkwardly as the leather rubbed across the skin of your thighs where your dress stopped, the squeaking making your skin crawl. You instinctually kept your purse strapped across your body, making an exit an easy thought if this date with this stranger ended up being too much. Most of these endeavors you had deemed too fucking much. But, you still found yourself here, obliging the effortlessly beautiful yin to your yang, Sarah Cameron, in her useless attempts at finding you a match of the opposite sex. Her brother, her latest victim. She didn’t tell you anything about him, other than that he was a really good guy and from her, that wasn’t saying much. You’d heard it too many times out of her mouth, only finding it to be untrue. You found yourself engrossed in your phone when a shadow cast over you in the shape of broad shoulders and you seemingly looked up; meeting eyes with only who you assumed to be the stranger, your stranger. God, was he beautiful. Swallowing thickly, you forced a soft smile, as you angled your face up at him in such a way that the remnants of Taylor remaining in the form of healed, previously stitched up skin couldn’t be seen. You hoped he wouldn’t ask – they always fucking ask and then you’re labeled as a codependent puppy and you never get a second chance to prove that you’re not, to prove that that’s not you. Why couldn't a scar just be a scar? Why did it have to equate to the kind of person you were and not who you had been? You weren’t sure. You just hoped this time would be different than before, that this time Sarah had been right.

“Hi. Are you Sarah’s brother?”

You asked meekly and he nodded, looking down at his feet as he shuffled from side to side, still yet to tell you his name. You wondered if he wanted you to know it, to know him at all.

“You can sit, if you’d like.”

You said, the thickness of the air slowly started to rid your lungs of the little you had. But, you swallowed, slowly breathing in and out as you gave him the same hand gestures the pretty waitress had previously shown you, ushering him into the booth.He obliged, the same squeaking from before brushing against his jean-clad legs. Your ears hated the assault it gave them.

“You can call me Rafe or stick with Sarah’s brother, I'll answer to both.”

He said with a smile, reaching across the table to extend his hand to you. His palms were sweaty, the thought made you smile. Maybe he was nervous too.

“So, who do I owe the pleasure of speaking with?”

He asked and blush rose to your cheeks.

“Sarah didn’t even tell you my name, huh?”

You questioned cheekily, knowing she hadn’t told you his either.

“No, she’s not very good at the details.”

He replied, taking the menu in his hands. Your eyes scanned his form, landing on the veins and the singular gold ring wrapped around his pointer finger.

“Isn’t that the truth? My name is y/n.”

You replied with a chuckle.

“y/n – pretty name for a pretty girl.”

He complimented you, a good sign for a normal person. You felt ambushed by it, swallowing thickly, questioning his motives immediately because once Taylor had called you pretty and now, he had made it to where no one would think so again. So, what the fuck were this guy’s intentions?

“How do you know Sarah?”

He said after a moment, thinking that maybe you weren’t interested in him. He locked eyes with you for a brief second before they were on the table and then his hands as they sat in his lap again.

“We met in college, she’s a good friend.”

“I guess it’s weird she hasn’t mentioned you much then, huh?”

A lie and a shitty one at that. She had been talking his ear off on the way over; minor details about how pretty and sweet you were, never bringing her mouth together to form the syllables of your name apparently.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.”

You said, seemingly anxious and disappointed that your best friend didn't even talk about you to her family.

That’s when he saw it – your scar – as you looked awkwardly around the room, fidgeting under his gaze uncomfortably. The last time he had seen you, you were covered in blood on the floor of the apartment you shared with his baby sister. Him – her safe space, her person to call in case of emergencies; doing so as she watched the man that was supposed to love you beat you within an inch of your life. You didn’t know Rafe and how could you? You didn’t remember him carrying you to the ambulance on the worst night of your life or the triage he did to your body as he watched you gasp for air. None of his emergency training had prepared him for that, for the screams of his sister in the hospital corridor, when they gave them the news. Whispers of “we’re doing everything we can” spout from the doctor's mouths and the only thing he was capable of doing was wrapping his blood stained hands around his baby sister. He had never heard from his baby sister if you’d made it, if you were okay and that he had carried with him for a long time – the not knowing. But, now he knew. Now, you were sitting in front of him and he had no words.

“Sorry, it doesn’t seem like Sarah’s very good at playing matchmaker.”

You said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, she’s kind of the worst when it comes to this stuff.”

You smiled fondly at him, though you had taken offense at his words, you knew he was right. At that realization, you stood, still gripping your purse tightly to your side.

“Hope I see ya around, Rafe. Have a good night.”

He was flabbergasted at how quickly you had come and gone. It almost felt like it wasn’t real at all. One moment you were there and just like that, he was left in the dust of your beauty and your sweet voice, immediately calling his sister to cuss her out for not telling him that the stranger was you.

–

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please send me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track!!

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @allsmilesreally7 @akobx @pogueprincesa

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron prompt #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafecore #rafe imagine #rafe <3 #rafe x reader smut #obx rafe cameron #firefighter!rafe #firefighter!rafe x reader #fucked up sort of eden

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pinterestanddaydreaming · 30 days ago

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Chapter 1: A City of Timeless Beauty - Lucius Verus x Reader

Summary: Y/n is a college student in Rome majoring in Roman History and Archaeology with her friends Priya and Alaya. Her mentor offers her the opportunity of a life time, to work at a dig site that could possibly hold the ruins of a Roman emperor's palace. The excavation starts in summer and it would mean that she can not go home to spend it with her family. Will she do it?

Author's Notes: Hey everyone! I know that I have posted a collage earlier for the reader's aesthetic but this collage accompanies this chapter. I personally like to make these to also help myself visualize the things I write about. Please know that y/n does not have to look like the girls in the picture, you can visualize her in any way and form you want to. Another thing, this story will be slow burn and I have not decided what the ending is going to look like so read the series at your own risk. This is my first time writing so the quality itself may not measure up the other very talented writers in this fandom, please know I am working on it!

Warnings: None!! It's just a bunch of girls being smart and lovely! If you hate girls stay away please and thank you! 🤗🙏

The golden hour blanketed Rome in a glow that seemed to blur the line between past and present. The streets buzzed with life, and y/n strolled through them with an air of calm curiosity. Her bag was tucked under her arm, brimming with essential beauty items and notes from her class on the history of Roman politics. She allowed herself a moment to bask in the sounds of the city, the distant hum of traffic mingling with the laughter of tourists and the occasional snatches of conversation in Italian.

Y/n looked at her wrist. She still had about forty minutes to get to the restaurant where she planned to meet Priya and Alaya for dinner after their classes. Y/n, Priya, and Alaya had grown up together in London, and their business-owner parents were more than happy to let their daughters move to Rome to pursue their passion for studying history and archaeology.

After nearly a year in Rome with Priya and Alaya, y/n felt at home. She had become familiar with the city and she loved living here. As y/n walked, she thought about the internship offer from Professor Marino, her professor who teaches Archaeological Field Studies. Y/n has been taking the class with Priya and Alaya and they all have gotten close to Marino. She has become a mentor for y/n and she has chosen Marino to be her senior thesis advisor. She is a renowned archaeologist and has been working on finding a royal palace of a Roman emperor for the past ten years.

When y/n talked to her earlier this week, she sounded sure that she had discovered the site for a royal palace. Marino had invited her and her friends to meet her at a local café to discuss an internship opportunity.

“You see,” Marino began, leaning forward, her cappuccino momentarily forgotten, “this isn’t just any site. I believe we’ve found the remains of the imperial palace of Emperor Lucius Verus—a palace and man we have lost to history and time.”

The warm aroma of coffee and fresh pastries enveloped the small café where Y/N, Priya, and Alaya sat with Professor Marino. The professor, a striking woman in her late forties with sharp features and an air of quiet authority, gestured animatedly as she explained the significance of her latest discovery.

“Lucius Verus?” Priya asked, her brow furrowing slightly. “He ruled after the mad twin emperors, Geta and Caracalla, right? We don’t have a lot of material culture from the time.”

Marino nodded, a smile curling her lips. “Exactly. And that’s what makes this find so extraordinary. If we can excavate and study this site, we might find details that reshape our understanding of who this man was.” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “This could rewrite history, ladies.”

Alaya, who had been quietly sipping her espresso, finally spoke. “How sure are you about the location, Professor? I mean, after ten years of searching, it must feel incredible, but what evidence do you have?”

Marino smiled, clearly pleased with the question. “Preliminary scans have revealed a structure consistent with the layout described in ancient texts. We’ve also uncovered fragments of frescoes and inscriptions that point to a residence of significant importance.” She paused for effect, letting the weight of her words sink in. “But we need to confirm it. And that’s where you come in.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re asking us to join the dig?”

“Not just join,” Marino said, her voice lowering as though sharing a secret. “I want you three to be part of the core team. I am not sugarcoating when I say that you three are the sharpest students I have had in a while. You are all familiar with Roman history and have taken more than enough credits on archaeological field methods. I really think you can get something out of this experience.”

The trio exchanged another glance, excitement buzzing in the air like an unspoken agreement.

Priya leaned forward, her excitement barely contained. “When would this start?”

“Summer,” Marino replied, her expression turning serious. “It’ll be a demanding schedule—early mornings, long hours under the sun, meticulous cataloging. But I promise, it will be worth it. What you learn and contribute could shape your careers.”

The discovery of a potential royal palace sounded exciting to y/n and she has loved spending her summers in Italy. But working at the dig meant postponing her return to London and spending time with her family.

As she turned a corner, a small shop caught her eye. It was sandwiched between two bustling cafés, its entrance almost hidden beneath climbing ivy. The antique shop’s name, "Eterna Treasures," was scrawled in faded gold letters above the door. Y/n hesitated, feeling an inexplicable pull toward it. Her feet seemed to move on their own, and soon she was pushing open the heavy wooden door.

Inside, the shop was dimly lit and smelled faintly of sandalwood. Shelves overflowed with curiosities: ornate goblets, faded maps, and statues worn smooth with age. Behind the counter stood a woman who could only be described as eccentric. Her gray curls were untamed, her dark eyes sharp and knowing, and she wore a patterned shawl draped over her shoulders like a queen surveying her domain.

“Ah, there you are,” the woman said, her lips curling into a sly smile.

Y/n blinked. “Sorry, do I know you?”

The woman waved her hand dismissively. “Not yet. But I know you.”

Y/n laughed awkwardly, taking a small step back toward the door. “That’s… not creepy at all.”

The woman chuckled, a rich sound that filled the tiny shop. “Oh, child, don’t be afraid. I simply have an eye for people, and you, my dear, are no ordinary girl.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Is that so?”

The woman leaned forward, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have the face of someone out of place. A beauty so timeless it doesn’t belong in this world. No, you belong in another time. A time when Rome wasn’t just ruins but the beating heart of an empire.”

Y/n tilted her head, unsure whether to laugh or feel unnerved. “Well, I do study history. Maybe you’re picking up on that.”

The woman ignored her, her gaze seeming to pierce straight through y/n. “Such eyes… deep as the Tiber itself. They’ve seen more than you know. And you have a dimple!—ah, men would have crossed oceans for a smile like that. Some might still.” She sighed theatrically. “You could change history, my dear. Bring a man to his knees.”

Y/n stared, caught somewhere between discomfort and fascination. “Okay… that’s very poetic and all, but I’m just a history student. No one is crossing oceans for me.”

The woman snapped her fingers suddenly, her tone shifting to something brisk and businesslike. “Well, never mind all that! Let me show you something.”

She disappeared behind the counter, rummaging through a glass display case. When she resurfaced, she held a small velvet box containing a gold ring and a matching necklace, each adorned with a ruby so vivid it seemed to glow from within.

“These,” the woman declared, her earlier intensity replaced with a saleswoman’s enthusiasm. “These are perfect for you. Look at the craftsmanship! Ancient, regal, and absolutely meant to be yours.”

Y/n hesitated, eyeing the jewelry warily. “They’re beautiful, but I wasn’t really planning to buy anything…”

The woman scoffed, thrusting the box toward y/n. “Nonsense! Try them on. You’ll see.”

Y/n sighed and picked up the ring, slipping it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, the ruby catching the faint light and gleaming like fire. The necklace felt cool and strangely heavy as she clasped it around her neck.

The woman clapped her hands, her grin widening. “See? They were made for you. A perfect match.”

“They’re… nice,” y/n admitted, still unsure. “But I’m not sure I need them.”

“Need?” The woman leaned closer, her voice dropping back into its earlier, cryptic tone. “They aren’t about need. They’re about destiny. Some things find you, not the other way around.”

Y/n frowned. “You’re really good at making this sound ominous, you know that?”

The woman only laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ominous? Perhaps. But it's true.”

With a resigned smile, y/n pulled out her wallet. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt compelled to buy the set. Maybe it was the allure of the pieces themselves, or maybe it was the woman’s strange, magnetic energy.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the small bag the woman handed her.

“May they bring you fortune,” the woman replied, her voice soft and enigmatic. As y/n turned to leave, the woman added, almost as an afterthought, “And perhaps… a bit of the past.”

Y/n paused at the door, glancing back at the woman, who was now humming to herself as she rearranged trinkets on a nearby shelf. Shaking her head, she stepped back into the bustling streets of Rome.

The city was glowing in the last light of day, but y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. The ruby ring felt warm on her finger, and the necklace rested against her chest like a weight she hadn’t noticed before.

Maybe the eccentric woman was right. This wasn’t just simple jewelry.

End of Chapter 1

tags - @bad-grammer

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cottoncandytomu · 2 years ago

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Scream For Me Doll~ Ghostface!Ellie x F!Reader

🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸

ITS FINALLY FUCKING HEREEEEEE!!!

(I do not own any of the photos! Just edited them, if they are yours and you want them removed lmk!!)

GHOSTFACE!ELLIE AI AUDIOS HERE!!

Before I even start-

18+ CONTENT MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS FIC IS DEFINITELY NOT FOR MINORS!!

PLEASE READ ALL OF THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU INDULGE IN THIS FIC!!

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to finally finish this fic, I wanted to make it the best I could for you deranged Beauties~. I will say though, I only proofread half of it (I'll proofread the other half later - sorry I just wanted to post it already heeheheh~) so any mistakes I apologize they will be fixed in the future!

Those who asked to be tagged, if you're not interested in this fic in particular or want to be removed please lmk!! :}

WARNINGS!! PLEASE READ!!

This fic IS NOT for everyone, so please if it isn't your cup of tea...move on. Any type of hate sent my way I ask for it to not be anonymous so I can do you the justice and block you straight up. This fic contains the following: (If I forget to put a TW please let me know so I can add it on!!)

LOTS of dark themes, Filthy smut, Knife play, Blood play, Self harm (Ellie's behalf - slightly intentional - she cuts herself on the blade), Degradation (Very minor), Possessiveness, Stalking, Cursing, Deranged reader and Ellie, Mentions of murder/killing.

I think that's it - again if I missed anything please let me know. BUT that's about it folks, hope you Beauties~ enjoy!! (7839 Words)

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The sound of breathing was the only thing to be heard, Ellie’s warm breath bouncing off the flesh of the mask and back into her own. She learned very quickly how to stay quiet in situations like these. Her robe almost touched the floor, flowing right along with her movements. The sun had set hours before, a warm yellow moon took its place. Darkness cascades over the town, it was during these hours where she thrived the most. The shadows made for her stalk within the night, hiding all of her secrets in its shroud. She slowly creeps towards your window, forever thankful that your room was located on the first floor.

A lot of her nights were spent like this. Reveling in her recent victims over the weeks to then come and celebrate by watching you at your most vulnerable. You weren’t on her hit list, far from it actually. Her obsession for you was different, not one of bloodlust. Although she’d love to see the deep velvet color of your blood drip down your stomach. The tip of her blade digging into your skin, not too hard, not too soft, but enough to pierce the skin. She’d imagine rubbing her gloved thumb across the liquid, smearing it towards your hip bone. Where she’d then grip your waist, squeezing the soft flesh in her palm.

Her true bloodlust was for the imbeciles who fell into her traps, never clever enough to understand the gravity of the situation they’ve put themselves in. What genius would walk through an alleyway alone after a night of drinking? Or answer a phone call in the deep hours of the night? Only idiots would and Ellie hated the idiots of the world. The ones who deserved to be silenced by her blade, one less ignorant human on this planet. She saw the evils she committed as an act of justice. Just what society needed, one less idiot to exist. But fuck there were so many. That’s why she enjoyed you the most. You weren’t like them.

The way you were always aware of your surroundings, keeping up on the latest murders of the month. Those murders being her own work of course. She saw the way your eyes lit up at the idea of figuring out who the infamous Ghostface was. You were determined, it was cute in your own way. Ellie was always one step ahead though, she knew about your obsession with the slasher. Being your close friend was her advantage to the game. It was her fun version of tag, except for the fact that you were unaware you were playing it with her. Coming so close to touching her, the tips of your fingers stretched out wide but she was able to run and hide. You having to start all over again just when you were so close. She loved when you got close.

She’d listen to all the theories you’d come up with about who Ghostface could be. You’ve gotten close a few times, even if it was jokingly pointing the finger at her. You’d laugh off the idea of Ellie being Ghostface. It’s too hard to believe your childhood friend who you’ve spent every waking moment with to be the one. You told her she didn’t have the guts to commit such acts, too blinded by the nurturing friendship the two of you shared. As clever as you were, in which Ellie respected, you always missed that one piece.

There was a moment that she did want to tell you, to scream it off the rooftops or to stand outside your house with it written in bold letters. Hey, it’s me! I’m Ghostface! Surprised huh? But she knew that’d be too risky, as much as she trusts you with her life she doesn’t fully know if you’d be able to keep this under the wraps. Would you run away screaming, telling the first officer you see? Or is there that slight chance that you’d be alright with it…

This was another fantasy Ellie loved to live in. You overjoyed with the fact that she was the one. Running up to her and caressing her mask, blood staining the tips of your fingers just moments after her fresh kill. But she knew better. Out of all the secrets you two shared, this was the only one she kept to herself.

Little did she know you had secrets of your own. Your obsession with the slasher didn’t just end at finding out who it was. You wanted them for yourself. You wanted to trace their mask with your fingers, dragging them down the oversized robe and over to their gloved hand. You dreamt of grabbing that hand that yielded the knife. Tracing it up your chest to your delicate throat. To feel the cool blade against your skin would welcome heat that would pool between your thighs. You wanted them to use you how they wanted, bending at their will, doing whatever for them. It was a fucked up fantasy you couldn’t stop. But did you truly want it to stop?

You had to bite your tongue every time you talked to Ellie about them. She was intrigued with your theories, always ready to listen in on the newest piece of evidence you brought up. But you didn’t want to face the judgment of her words when you told her the main reason you wanted to see what was behind the mask. You imagined her reaction once. You didn’t imagine it again after that.

As she peers in she feels her chest swell up. It never felt any different for her, you always made her feel a certain way. Especially during these times. When she had the mask on, it changed her. She became a different person, she felt free. She felt like her true self. It was funny in a way, usually people put on a mask to hide their identity. But it wasn’t the same for Ellie, it brought out the worst in her. She loved every second of it.

You were fast asleep in your bed, legs in a tangled mess with your blankets. Your brows were furrowed, tightly knit together. She was curious as to what you were dreaming about. Was it a nightmare? Troubles from something that happened earlier in the day? It took everything in her to not climb in through your window, coming close to you to smoothen out the lines between your brows. Her eyes trailed down to your lips, taking in how soft they looked. How badly she wanted to glide her gloved fingers across them. Just to hook them into the side of your mouth and pull back the flesh, making you smile like the joker.

Her nightly ritual would soon come to an end. Much to her disappointment she had to go back to being the regular old Ellie. The Ellie no one suspected was Ghostface. She took in your features one last time before descending back into the night, the darkness consuming her once again.

Finding the abandoned shed by her house she shed herself of her shroud and mask, putting them away in her pack. She returned home shortly after, unlocking her door with her key. She couldn't wait to also get some rest. Unbothered to do anything else besides sleep she threw her pack across the room. Flopping into the bed it didn’t take long for her to be whisked away into lust filled dreams of your face.

The next morning came in a hurry. Ellie woke up in a sweat, the stuffy heat of the summer causing her clothes to stick to her skin. It didn’t help that she fell asleep with her jeans and t-shirt on, too tired the night before to change into something more comfortable. Her hand reaches over on her nightstand, grabbing her phone she checks the time, 11 a.m. It wouldn’t be long until you’re knocking at the door, you both had previously made plans to go out today. Finally having a matching day off you didn’t want to waste it away, even with the stupid curfew in place. Jackson didn’t have much to do but you both made it work. Your favorite spot was going deep into the forest, dangerous yes, but you enjoyed the quiet serene scene. The only sounds being what nature wanted to sing to you that day.

Today would probably be one of those forest days. The overwhelming buzz of fear that clouded the skies of Jackson was starting to be too much for you to handle. You wanted, no needed, a mini escape from it all. And who better to escape all of it with none other than your loyal friend. She understood how you felt, how sick of the people you were. She understood it all too well.

Ellie placed the phone back down on the nightstand, rubbing her eyes as she sat herself up. Letting out a sigh she climbs out of bed and goes to get ready for the day. It doesn’t take long until you’re knocking at her door. Toothbrush in her hand she rushes over to let you in. Your soft smile sends flutters to her stomach, precious as always. She sends a smile back your way, standing off to the side to let you in. You were wearing a regular t-shirt and shorts that hugged your thighs just right, she couldn’t help her eyes from checking you out. After you walk in she closes the door and returns to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

You walk over to the door to the bathroom, leaning against the frame watching her finish up. You gave her a knowing look and she knew what would come out of your mouth before you even said it.

“New evidence?” She asks.

Your grin widens, “Maybe…”

“Spill, now.”

This happened often, you’d have some new “gossip” about the killer from your unresting research. While Ellie would sit and listen, wanting to know how close you’ve gotten this time.

“So you remember a week ago when that random man was murdered?”

Ellie pretends to think about it for a second. She knew exactly who you were referring to, he was a tough one. His extreme persistence to survive almost caused him to escape her grasp, almost. She nods at you.

“Well apparently he put up a fight.”

Ellie’s face cringed, thinking back on the memory. Her expression quickly changed to a confused one, now wondering how you knew about his persistence.

“I know I know, the only reason I found this out is because of someone sharing some info on Reddit.” She waits for you to continue on. “So their Dad is a cop blah blah, shit no one cares for. But because of this he gets inside info. So get this, they found a piece of the handle to the blade Ghostface used to kill him. There’s some overly complicated science as to how they know he struggled. But the piece of it gives them a slight advantage on what weapon the killer uses. It’s honestly crazy how the knife broke. It’s said that the Buck 120 is very durable, some luck huh?”

Fuck-

Ellie knew her mistake but didn’t think it would be found so soon. By the time she realized the piece had fallen off it had already been too late. That night she was consumed with the need to see you. Specially after that persistent fuck gave her such a hard time. The stress of it all ate her alive, for once she feared she would be discovered if he was able to escape her grasp. Luckily with one hard strike she was able to finally take him down. Enraged after the fact she kept up the hard strikes at his weak skin. Definitely a blood bath, all the emotions clouded her mind. She didn’t realize that her harsh slashes may be the one thing to bring her demise. When she saw you that night all the stress seemed to disappear. She returned home that night, dread still heavy on her head. Seeing you truly did help her but soon as she left you it all came back. The next morning was when she saw the lost piece in her handle. Cursing herself at her stupidity, it was too late. She never goes back to a kill, no matter how satisfying or difficult. It was too risky, the bodies were found usually a day or so after she ended them.

Ellie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of your voice. “Earth to Ellie, you there?”

She rinses her toothbrush and spits out the paste in her mouth to answer you.

“Yeah.” She laughs it off, “Sorry. Just thinkin’ about what you said.”

You tuck in your lips nodding slowly at her words. “It’s crazy to think about isn’t it? I’ll find out who it is eventually I know it.”

“Oh you do now?” Ellie forgets about her previous thoughts. More interested in your words instead.

“Mhm~ You know how close I’ve gotten.”

“I also know how many times it’s slipped from you too.”

“Whatever, I don’t wanna hear this shit talk when I find out who it is. I’ll prove everyone wrong.”

Sure you will. Ellie thinks, “I’m gonna talk shit regardless. You know this.”

You laugh at her words, “You’re right. Anyways hurry up, I wanna be out as long as I can before curfew.”

Ellie finishes up what she has to, not wanting to keep you waiting. As she gets her things together you go to sit on the couch, patiently waiting. After she’s done you both head for the front door. Before you can leave Ellie mutters a hold on forgetting one last thing. She goes back into her room before descending out with her guitar case in hand. You smile warmly at her. You always loved when she would bring her guitar. Playing the tunes you were never tired of hearing. You opened the door for her letting her exit with her case. Following her out you both took off to the calming forest. Letting go of all the troubles that plagued your minds.

After a few hours you and Ellie made it back to her house. The time spent in nature was a refresher you both needed. Similar reasons neither of you were aware of. The two of you didn’t eat the whole day so you both agreed to get food once settled in Ellie’s home. Not wanting the night with you to end Ellie made sure to invite you over after. She knew she’d be around you. Regardless if you stayed or not. She could either have you here or have you through your window. As much as she did enjoy the latter, she wanted to be around you as long as you’d allow. Even if it was when she was regular Ellie.

The both of you settled down onto the couch. Ellie loaded a game up to pass the time, knowing you’d enjoy watching her play. Ellie made you comfortable no matter the situation, being in her presence made you feel such a relief. A relief no one could provide in the same way that she can. You were scrolling through restaurants in the area on your phone. Stretched out sideways along the couch. Your back against the armrest and your legs over Ellie’s as she sat regularly. Her arms were resting on your lower thighs, fingers pressing away at the buttons. She told you to pick what you wanted, not caring what you’d order. She’d eat whatever you put in front of her anyway. You didn’t want anything too crazy, just something comforting and simple. Which is why you decided on pizza, can’t get more simple than that.

“I’m gonna get us some pizza.” You look up at Ellie from your phone.

Her eyes were trained on the screen, “Sounds good to me.” She shrugged slightly, replying.

“Okay I’ll get us a large and a drink as well.”

Ellie throws a quick glance in your direction, “My card should be in my pack in the room.”

“I can just buy it Ellie…”

“Fuck no.” When she looks back at you, this time she doesn’t break eye contact, “I invited you over to eat so I pay for it, yeah?”

You didn’t bother to argue back with her, you’d lose in the end. You always did. You mumbled alright and she lifted up her arms so you could slip off the couch. The warmth of your legs were gone, causing her to shiver from the cool feeling of her air conditioner.

You walked over into her room searching around for her pack. Your eyes scan the room when they finally land on it thrown over into the corner. You walk over kneeling down to open it up, digging through it you suddenly feel a sharp sting on your finger. Pulling your hand back from the pack with an ow you look hold your hand to see blood dripping from your middle finger.

“What the fuck?” You mumble.

Instead of making the mistake to dig around unaware again you slowly pull open the sides of the pack, opening it up to peek at what's inside. Your brows furrow at the black cloth harshly shoved in it. Slowly pulling it out to examine it an object flops to the floor. Snapping your head down your eyes widen, You can feel the blood draining from your face. A sharp flutter fills your stomach, it was a mask. But not any mask, a Ghostface mask. Picking it up with your free hand to examine it you now notice the red splatters, it stands out from the contrast of the bold white mask. Is that…blood? You think to yourself, it can’t be. This is a joke, there's no way she’s Ghostface. You smirk to yourself, was she really trying to fuck with you like this? She’s done stupid jokes before but never went as far as buying the costume to trick you. Some tricks, huh. Nice try Ellie.

Did she really think you were that naive? You were going to get up and confront her when the sting of your finger got your attention again. You almost forgot about the cut, you then realized that nothing in your hands could’ve sliced you like that. Don’t tell me she bought a knife too, oh Ellie-. You reached into the pack again, carefully this time knowing your chances of getting cut again were high. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the light shine off the blade, she really outdid herself this time. You grasp the handle and bring it out from the bag, it was the exact kind of knife Ghostface used. The knife had the smeared red on the blade as well.

One part of you couldn’t believe the lengths she’s gone this time to fuck with your “investigation.” But the other part of you couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of her going this far. She didn’t truly know what these things did to you. If it was her, which was a long shot, you wondered how much easier everything would be. Not having to worry about who was behind the mask, not that you really cared, but it was something that crossed your mind. What if it was someone you couldn’t stand, would you be able to still keep up that fantasy of them? Could you still keep it up if it was Ellie? Your feelings for Ellie were that of a roller coaster. In friendship terms everything was smooth sailing, there’s no one else on the planet you could trust your life with more. But when it came to the topic of it being more than a friendship, that was a different story. You can’t say you never had feelings for her, you have. You just pushed them down when you realized how badly it could ruin everything. Plus you had no idea, doubted even, that she liked you the same. So you buried your own feelings deep inside, not daring to let them out again. Sometimes though she’d do things that made you shiver. That would cause those feelings to bubble over again, reaching for nothing but the disappointment you’d give them when you continued to shove them under again.

Although, to know that she did this all for you made those feelings bubble over again. Could she have a clue about your true intentions of wanting who was behind that mask? Is that why she went this far? To make you believe it? To fall for her instead of the true Ghostface? No, she wouldn’t, it’s just a dumb prank.

You laughed at your thoughts, going the extra mile once again, your delusions would constantly take control when the masked killer was involved. You twirl the knife in your hands one last time before you decide to put it down. As you check it for the last time your fingers smooth over something rough on the handle. Curious, you look at what the disturbed surface could be.

As you study the handle your heart drops. No, no, no- this can’t be happening, you think. You can feel the anxiety swell up in your chest. You forget how to breathe, your thoughts racing a million miles a minute. All of the countless hours you spent searching, all of the sleepless nights you’ve had. The endless amount of research you would study, day after day. Stuck scrolling on your computer not resting until you get so close to finding out who it could be. The theories of all the different people you had, you even bought a cork board to help your search. You pulled some crazy shit you kept to yourself to find out where or who they could be. Putting yourself in danger in hopes that you’ll be the slasher's “next prey.”

All of this for what? For it to be your best friend this whole time. The one person you were so sure of it not being. Fuck you felt so stupid. You grew up with her, you knew her better than you knew yourself. You felt pride in knowing that she would never be capable of such a thing, but she was. And here you are, staring at the handle with the piece of it missing that was just discovered by the authorities. As much as you wanted to deny it you couldn’t. Why did you want to deny it?

In a way this makes everything easier, your mind travels back to your earlier thoughts. The thoughts of what if Ellie was the killer. But why didn’t she kill you yet? If no one was safe from her slashes then why were you? Question after question filled your head, trying to piece all the evidence together to figure out just what you have missed. While in deep thought you heard a loud thud. Locking in place you slowly turned your head to the sound.

Ellie stood by the door, frozen. The controller that was once in her hand now faced upside down on the floor. She was wondering why it was taking you so long to grab your wallet. She knew it was in her room, in some pack that she threw on the floor yesterday. She hasn't touched it since. It wasn’t until she started thinking about it that she felt the color drain from her face. She was so exhausted yesterday that she forgot to put her Ghostface pack in the hiding spot she usually does. It slipped from her mind until this moment. Now she’s paying the consequences, walking in on you holding her knife. The very knife you just talked about hours earlier. The single piece of evidence that would be 100% proof of Ellie being Ghostface.

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Scared that any wrong move would result in your panic, your screams filling the air as you ran for the door. But you didn’t. You didn’t move an inch, holding the knife in your hand you stared back at her. All of this time it was her, you didn’t want to admit it but you felt a sense of relief. You did it, you found out who Ghostface was.

You opened your mouth, trying to get something out, anything out but you couldn’t. Caught like a deer in headlights you thought about your next move. As you thought about it, so did Ellie. You weren’t supposed to find out, even if you did she didn’t want it to be this way. She wanted it on her terms, if she were to ever tell you anyway.

As flustered as she was she managed to speak first, “Seems like all that research paid off huh?” She chuckles.

Leave it to Ellie to make light of a situation like this, you were used to it though. She always jokes around when shit hit the fan, it was one of the many things you loved about her. You just weren’t so sure if this time was the right time for it. You looked down at the knife again, your fingers gliding against the abrasion.

“It was you the whole time…” Ellie’s eyes widened at your voice, “I busted my ass on research and it was right in front of me the whole time.”

“Surprise…?”

You let out a dry laugh at her response, how could you be so fucking stupid. She goes to open her mouth to speak again but you beat her to it.

“Do you know why I really wanted to find out who Ghostface was?”

Fuck it. It was out in the open so you might as well be honest. You didn’t know where this confidence came from but after finding out who a serial killer was you realized you only really have two options. She would let you go, which you think is unlikely or she would have to end it right here right now. Killing you to keep the risk of her being found out by the public. You didn’t think she was capable of killing you, you were her childhood best friend after all.

She stays quiet, letting you continue. You figured you had nothing to lose now, why not let it all out in the open.

“Finding out who was behind the mask really isn’t all that important to me. Honestly I could give less of a fuck who’s behind it. I just want them for myself. My fucked up fantasy of being with the slasher is all that I’ve been craving.” You sigh, your words becoming just a whisper. “It’s sick… I know.”

Did Ellie just hear you correctly? Are her fantasies becoming reality right before her eyes? All those nights at your window, watching you, craving you. You writhing under her as she pleased you in the one thing that made her feel like her true self. She watched as your face fell in despair, you were ashamed. There’s no need to be ashamed.

She wasn’t aware that she said her thoughts aloud, not realizing it until you lifted up your head.

You looked at her with a shocked expression, “You don’t think so?”

“How could I?” She starts, “You know what I do. I have no room to judge anyone, plus I’ve wanted nothing more than this.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, did you hear her correctly?

She continues on, “I’ve been dreaming about this moment forever. I wanted to tell you so many times but I didn’t know how. Your reaction was something I was scared of the most. But now that I know you want this, I’m ready to take the next step.”

“What is the next step exactly?” You ask.

Ellie’s soft expression changes in an instant, a smirk adorning her lips.

“I make you mine.”

You felt a slight pang of fear but not too much. Her words catered to your sick mind, they went straight to your core. She took slow steps towards you, as to test the waters on how you would react. You didn’t move an inch, letting her slowly make her way towards you. The grasp you had on the knife tightened in anticipation. When she came close enough she reached out to your hands, loosening your grasp from the knife she took it from you. Her eyes leave yours to study the object in her hands, the object she knew all too well. Her eyes darken as she grasps the handle, pointing the tip of the blade towards you now. The smirk never leaves her lips when she drags the tip of the blade lightly up your throat, stopping to tilt your chin up towards her.

“You want to be mine right?” She asks.

You bite your lip, “Only if you’ll allow it.”

It was at this moment that you saw the true change in her eyes. The Ellie you once knew, the Ellie you grew up with wasn’t the Ellie in front of you now. This Ellie was different…darker…possessive. You wanted to know this version of her more than anything, the true her behind the mask. The person you dreamt of having for so long was finally yours and you were hers. It was at this moment that you knew there was no going back, the two of you now becoming one in her secret. You’d do anything for her, be anything for her. She felt the same, all those nights she watched you at your window. She’d get rid of anyone who tried to hurt you in any way, she’d protect you from any danger that dared to wander around you. God forbid she catches the ones that hurt you, they’d regret their last moments.

Her eyes flickered back towards yours, keeping eye contact for just a moment before trailing around your face. They stop at your lips, how badly she’s wanted to kiss the plush skin for so long. She wastes no time and throws her knife to the side. Grabbing at the sides of your face she roughly presses her lips to yours. Your hands grasp at her shirt, kissing her back with just as much fervor. The kiss was far from innocent, teeth clashing and spit mixing, just how she liked it. She took your bottom lip in her teeth, pulling at the flesh and letting it flick back in place. Her lips lock back onto yours, you pull her closer by her shirt, needing to get as close as possible.

She pulls back after a few seconds, you let out a whimper at the loss. Your eyes filled with desperation as you stared up at her. She coos at the sight, her thumb swiping the spit across your bottom lip.

She licks her lips, “You gonna let me have you tonight?”

You enthusiastically nod your head, “Y-yes.” You’re still shaken up by the sloppy kisses you two just shared.

“Yeah? Gonna let me try something out on ya?”

You continued to nod your head, you didn’t care what she did to you. You’d give her whatever she wanted if she asked, she knew this. Yet she still wants to make sure you’re okay with it. She then took your hands in hers, pulling you to stand up along with her, she then led you to the bed. She pushed you back onto it, you flopped onto the mattress waiting for her next move. She admired you for a moment before walking back by her pack, she grabbed the mask off the floor and slipped it on.

“You want me to fuck you in this mask hm?” She asks. Not giving you time to reply she continues, “How much did you dream about this?”

Your words were stuck in your throat, it was all too much but it was so fucking good. You had envisioned how your first night with Ghostface would play out. Staring into their mask, their fingers buried in you, giving you the utmost pleasure you craved. But this? This was better than anything you could have imagined. Especially when it was with the one woman you loved more than anything.

She picked up her knife, twirling it in her hands.

“I would use this but that persistent fucker had to ruin it for me.” She shook her head, the loose fabric at the ends swayed in the air. “Good thing I got another.”

She walks over to her closet, digging around until she pulls out another Buck 120. She flips it over, checking out the shining blade and admiring it. She loved nothing more than her ol’ reliable knife.

“Got this one as a back up, y'know just in case incidents like before happened. A slasher must always be prepared~”

Her head looks up, the soulless black eyes staring into yours. You can hear the teasing tone in her voice when she talks to you. She’s well aware she has you wrapped around her finger, ready to do whatever she pleases.

She stalks towards you, “I’m gonna fuck you with this knife now~.” Her hold on the knife now tighter, “Don’t worry baby it’s clean, haven’t killed anyone with this one…yet.”

Your eyes widened, her words went straight to your core. You couldn’t help the little fidgets your body made as she slowly made her way towards you. You couldn’t see because of the mask but her eyes were trained on your thighs that clenched together in anticipation. You couldn’t help but rub them together, needing some sort of friction to relieve the heat building up between them.

You couldn’t help but ask, “Which side?”

Ellie groaned at your question, “Fuck baby~ you want the blade? Are you that psycho for me?”

You didn’t particularly want to be mutilated tonight, even though somewhere deep down in your fucked up brain the thought was there, you just wanted to make sure Ellie was on the same page.

“Just curious…” You reply.

She now stood in front of you, knife in her right hand. Her free hand comes up to rest on your knee, pushing it to the side to open your legs up for her. You can hear her heavy breaths through the mask.

“As much as I wanna see you bleed, I don’t want it that way. That’s what your thighs are for.”

Her hand strokes down your thigh, stopping midway to squeeze at the flesh. She brings her knife up to your skin, slicing it lightly enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. She flicks up the knife, her skills on display as she scoops the blood onto the blade, bringing it up to her mask and smearing it on the white rubber. She drags the knife down to the tip of the chin, tapping it against it a few times, as if in thought of what her next move is. You whimper at the sting of the cut, little droplets still flowing from it. She reaches up to smear the blood across your thigh, taking her time watching the way the red liquid spreads.

“I’ve wanted to see you bleed for me so bad. S’Better than I ever imagined.”

You bite your lip, holding back your whimpers as you wait impatiently for her next move. You wanted her to do something, to do anything to relieve the ache you felt. She turns the knife around in her hand, the grip pointing towards you.

“I’m gonna fuck you with the handle instead. That way every time I slash someone I have a memory of you with me. It’ll be the only thing I’ll think about with my victims.”

Her words flooded through your veins, firing up every cell in your body. You didn’t know she had such a way with her words, if she kept going you’d probably climax just from them alone. As much as her words had an effect on you, you wanted her to go along with her promise.

“Please…just fuck me already Ellie.” You beg.

“Patience Doll~ You out of everyone should know I like to take my sweet time when it comes to my victims. But since you said please, I’ll give you what you want.”

She sets the knife down next to you on the bed, her hands grip at the waistband of your shorts pulling them down. You were soaked, the fabric of your panties so wet that you could see the outline of your pussy.

“Mmh so wet for me, all I did was speak to you and draw a little blood.” Her thumb presses into your slit, pushing against your juices.

Her fingers hook into your panties pulling out the fabric, she then grabs her knife and cuts off your panties. You breath hitches at how close the blade was to your core, any closer and she would’ve cut you. Making you bleed for the second time that night. She chuckles at your reaction then shoves the panties into her back pocket, saving them for later.

She pushes up your thigh, opening you up for her and lines up the knife handle to your entrance. She teases you, gliding the end of it up and down your slit collecting up your juices to lube up the knife.

“You ready Doll?” She asks.

You whisper out a yes as she slowly slides the handle into your pussy, watching you grip onto it. You can feel her push back on your thigh more, making you stretch so she can get a nice view of you. Even though it was happening in front of her she couldn’t believe you were sprawled out before her like this. She’d catch herself staring at her knife imagining how it would look against your skin, how much she craved to slide it through your folds. Now that she was here it was almost too much, but she didn’t let her excitement take control. She wanted to fully immerse herself in this experience, taking all of you in. From the scrunches of your brows to the curling of your toes, she wanted to see all of you.

She carefully dragged out the knife, her hand delicately holding the blade. She pushes the handle in and out of you, setting a slow steady rhythm. You writhe under her touch, not being able to hold back your moans anymore, the cool handle adding to the pleasure. You grab onto her wrist, holding her tight. You look up at her mask and she catches your movements tilting up her head. You’re staring hard enough to see her eyes through the meshed fabric, seeing the darkness behind them. She’s wanted this just as much as you did and you’re so glad it’s her that’s giving you this much pleasure. As good as it felt you wanted more, the slow pace was killing you. In a way you felt like she was holding back, still too afraid to lose herself, scared that she might hurt you.

“Ellie…” You moan out, she twists the knife slightly muttering a yes.

“Please don’t hold back.” Her movements stop and you whine at her, “I want you to let yourself go, let Ghostface come out.”

Ellie’s hand quivered at your words, were you sure? Once she’s in that mindset she’s gone, she doesn't wanna risk too much. Although her dark thoughts were always in the back of her mind, how badly she wanted to drill her knife into you and watch you squirm at her force.

“Baby, are you sure? I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

You loved when she called you that, “Yes, I’m sure. I want it this way, I’m begging you~.”

You gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze and that was all she needed before the light in her switched. The Ellie you grew up with, knowing better than anyone is not the Ellie that’s in front of you now. That confirmation from you was all she needed to let her true side take control. It happened so fast you didn’t know how to react, Ellie had grabbed you and flipped you over. Making sure your ass was up in the air, almost hanging off the edge of the bed. You braced yourself on your hands, an oof coming out of your lips when she pushed your face down into the mattress.

You felt a harsh smack on your ass, you moaned at the sting it left behind. She kneads the flesh after, spreading you open and admiring you from behind. Without second thought she reaches down to grab the knife, this time firmly grabbing it by the blade as she plunges the handle inside you once again. She wastes no time fucking you hard and fast, her knuckles white from how hard she holds onto the blade.

“F-fuck Ellie!” You gasp out.

You’re in ecstasy, loving the way her demeanor changed. She loses herself in you, focused on the handle pushing in and out of you, how your juices cover the handle and drip down the blade onto her hand.

“You like that Doll? You’re taking this knife so well~ M’so proud of you.”

Your moans grow louder by the second, you’re not able to hold back anymore, not that Ellie wants you to anyway. You grip the bed sheets tight, your face repeatedly pushing into the mattress at her relentless force. You knew she was strong but fuck not like this. You were never really on the receiving end of her strength to truly know but now that you were you could see why no one stood a chance against her. She slaps at your ass again before she brings her free hand down to rub circles against your clit causing you to cry out. If she kept fucking you this way it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your high.

“Shit-” You heard her whisper.

You whip your head to the side to look at her. You can see her head tilt up to look back at you, she suddenly took her hand off your clit to reach up and tear off her mask. Her hair was a mess, tangled and stuck to her face in other spots from her sweat. Her eyes were blown wide, a harsh darkness to them you’ve never seen before and her lips. Her lips were red and plush from how much she bit them at the sight of you. You were a masterpiece to her, this was all she ever wanted. When she pushed her hair out of the way you noticed the blood that smeared along her forehead. She saw your eyes on her hand and gave you a lopsided smile, her hand going back down to rub at your clit once more.

“Fuckin’ you so hard I cut myself.” She laughs darkly, “You don’t mind right?”

Well fuck-

Your eyebrows scrunched together at her words, “No!” You moaned. “Don’t mind.”

You could barely form sentences from how good she was making you feel, she knew this and she reveled in that fact. A cocky smirk on her lips as her eyes watched the way you squirmed and stuttered under her. She could give less of a fuck that she’s bleeding, your pleasure being the only thing that matters. It didn’t take much longer for you to feel the build up in the pit of your stomach, you were close.

“Ellie I’m so close, please don’t stop~”

“Don’t plan on it Doll~” Ellie replies, speeding up her movements, if that were even possible.

You bury your face into the mattress but then you feel a harsh smack to your clit.

“I wanna hear your moans Sweetheart, don’t hide them from me now.”

You nod your head rapidly, tears are starting to form in your eyes from all the pleasure you’re experiencing. Who would’ve thought you’d be right here, experiencing the one thing you wanted the most, you never thought your day would end up like this. You’re thankful nonetheless, this is exactly what you wanted and you wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to you.

It didn’t take long until you reached your high.

“Ahh~ I’m cumming!”

Your back arched more, pulling at the sheets so hard they come undone from the edges. Ellie doesn’t slow down her movements either, ignoring the pain in her hand she keeps sliding the knife in and out of you. She watched as your juices flowed down onto the blade and her hand, mixing in with her blood. It made her moan out loud, a sight she’d never forget.

“Mmm cum for me Doll, just like that. I wanna see your juices on my blade.”

She helps you ride out your orgasm and your legs start to tremble. She chuckles at the state you’re in and slowly pulls the blade out of your pussy, watching your sticky juice strings stick to the handle. You watch her bring up the knife to her lips, sucking your juices off the handle, you whimper at her actions. When she’s done she throws the knife to the floor, her hands back onto you she spreads her blood up your thigh and onto your ass cheek as she gives you one last squeeze. You’re panting as you turn yourself over to lay on your back, she helps you lie down with a dark smile. She loves how she got you to this point, as much as she’d like to do it again she decides to save it for another night.

She reaches over to give your hand a quick squeeze saying she’ll be right back as she walks over to her bathroom. After a few moments she comes back with a wet towel, a cloth is tied around her hand to stop the blood from flowing. She walks over to you and wipes away all the blood and cum off your body, giving soothing strokes to your skin afterwards.

“So…” Ellie starts, “You gonna turn me in?”

You can’t help the snort that comes out of your throat, “Fuck off.”

“Is that a no, or?” She questions a knowing smile on her lips.

“I let you fuck me with your knife, do you think I’m gonna turn you in?”

She laughs at your response, “Just fuckin’ with ya.”

She climbs into the bed lying next to you, throwing the towel onto the floor, she faces you and strokes your cheek with the back of her knuckles. You look over at her with tired eyes and a warm smile, she really does switch up fast.

The two of you wrap up in each other's arms for the rest of the night. You ask all about her time as Ghostface, wanting to know every gory detail and she tells you it all. After a few hours of chatting you both lay in silence, content in each others presence.

Ellie speaks up first, “So…about that pizza?”

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

RAVIOLIII!! I hope you all enjoyed my fic!! I thank you all for reading my content! I have more on the way but I will be taking a small break to work on my drag projects I got going on!! As always any feedback is appreciated as I always want to level up my writing. Thank you all for being patient with me!! You Beauties~ have a wonderful day/night!!

⛧Taglist⛧

(if you would like to be tagged in any of my works lmk hehe~)

@moonlightdivine , @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshametohidemyshame

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butlervibesonly · 2 months ago

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𝑊𝐻𝐸𝑁 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 𝐻𝑈𝑅𝑇𝑆 | Austin Butler

• Summary : You're doubting about yourself as you read some rude and hateful comments. But Austin makes sure you know haters can't tear you apart.

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female reader

• Warnings : slight angst, haters, fluff

• Note : I added a TikTok video at the end of this fic, because I frickin' love his voice and just imagine him telling you all the sweet stuff 😩 (credit goes to owner)

"Darlin', what's wrong?" Austin asks, rubbing your hand with hus fingers gently. "You barely spoke all evening." You knew dating a celebrity as big as Austin would be hard, complicated, maybe even painful at times.

Painful, however, not from his side — from the side of his fans, the bad ones. Before you and Austin started watching the movie tonight, you read some nasty and painful comments on your latest post.

Some haters just couldn't stand that you and Austin love each other and are happy together. They indulged in hurtful words and did not consider how big an impact it could have.

"It's nothing, Aus,” you sigh, settling on the couch. Austin couldn't help but notice something has bothering you the whole time. He grabs your hand, circling your palm with his thumb.

"Y/n, I know when something's wrong. You can tell me everything, and you know it, right?" he asks, trying to look you in the eyes. But that is impossible for you. You can't make eye contact as your eyes fills with tears. "Y/n, baby," he pulls you closer.

"I read some comments under my post..." you sob, hearing Austin sighing, as he slowly starts to realize what's happening. "More than a half of them were rude and... so much painful Austin, they hate me!" Tears are falling down from your eyes.

"They hate the fact we're together, Austin. They think I don't love you enough, or that you don't love me, and I, I-" Austin cups your cheeks to make you look into his face. His blue eyes almost seem to shine into your soul, his brow furrowed.

"Honey, listen what I say, carefully," Austin begins. "They don't know anything about us, Y/n. I wish they could see what I see when I look at you. I wish they could understand how my heart races every time you smile, how your laughter is the only sound I accept to hear," he says.

"They don’t know how much you mean to me, and how I’d give up every award, every flashing camera just to keep you happy and safe. They naively think they can tear us apart, but they don’t know anything about love—not the way I do when I’m with you, babe. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life, and no hates from strangers will ever change that. You’re my everything,"

You smile through your tears as his words warms you. "Believe when I say that you are enough for me. More than enough. I don’t need anyone’s approval, anyone’s opinions. You’re strong, you’re beautiful, and you have this incredible heart that makes me fall in love with you more every single day," he points at your chest.

"Don’t let their words make you doubt what we have. You’re all I need, and nothing and no one could ever take that away. Got it?" You nod at his question. "And now smile at me, as it suits you more then tears." he wipes away tears from your cheeks, as you guys smile at each other.

"That's it! My beautiful girl," he kissed you. Austin wraps his arms around you, keeping you warm in his embrace. You stay like this for a while, and all the bad thoughts leave your mind.

"I love you, Aus," you look at him. "Thank you so much."

"You don't have to thank me for being a boyfriend that you need," he winks at you, kissing you again. Both of you spend the rest of the night watching the movie, in each others arms, as you slowly forget about everything negative bothering you. And words can't describe how much you love him.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fandom #austin butler x y/n #elvis movie #austinbutler #feyd rautha #dune part two #benny the bikeriders #the bikeriders

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nahoney22 · 5 months ago

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Hi. I was wondering if you would write for Krennic? I liked how you portrayed him in your thrawn fic. If yes, please can I have the NSFW dominant prompt number 29 with a fem reader?

Perhaps he and reader had been eyeing each other up for a while and they can’t resist anymore? Thank you in advance. 😊😊

A Deal with the Director***🌊

🫧 Pairings: Director Krennic X ImperialFemale!Reader

word count: 8.7k

prompts:

• “Suck on my fingers, get them nice and wet for me."

Plot: When you find yourself locking eyes with Director Krennic more than once, you thought nothing of it. But when you find yourself rather close and personal… it’s a different story.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit Sexual Content & Language, Soft!DomKrennic and Light!SubReader relationship, Female Imperial, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Finger Sucking, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Desk Sex, Uniform Kink, Dirty Talk, Strangers to Lovers, Forbidden Relationship, Sex With Your Boss, Authority Kink, Spanking, Implied Creampie , Reader gets Anxious, Prompt Request. Brea, Rein, Ronhar, Ralson are just random made up characters btw and don’t exist in the Star Wars universe.

A/N: Thanks for being my first Krennic request, anon! I had so much fun doing this so no wonder why it’s 8k plus words long. I’m going to be posting this in ao3 too so if you don’t want to red it all at once I’ve split it up into parts over there. 🩵

link: AO3 Krennic

You leaned against the console, adjusting the stiff collar of your uniform while your colleague and friend, Lieutenant Brea, leaned in closer, her voice low but animated as she indulges you with the latest gossip during an otherwise quiet shift on the bridge.

"I’m telling you, Krennic’s been a complete nightmare lately,” she whispered, her eyes flicking nervously toward the corridor leading to the command deck. “I was on maintenance duty last week when he stormed in. He’s usually uptight, but this time? He was snapping at people for breathing too loudly.”

You smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Sounds about right. I bet it’s because someone replaced his caf with decaf.”

Brea snorted, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “Or maybe he finally realised that cape of his isn’t as impressive as he thinks.”

You chuckled too but didn’t want to ruin the moment and say you actually quite like his cape…

The two of you shared a cheeky grin, but your amusement quickly turned to curiosity as you remembered something you’d overheard in the officer’s mess hall the day before. Leaning closer to Brea, you lowered your voice even more. “Actually, I heard from Lieutenant Ronhar that it’s got something to do with Tarkin.”

Brea’s eyes widened. “Tarkin? That explains it. I mean, who wouldn’t be in a foul mood dealing with him? Those two have hated each other for ages.”

“Apparently, the Governor’s been in direct contact with him, undermining Krennic’s authority on the Death Star project. You know how much Krennic hates being questioned…especially by someone like Tarkin.” You reply with a nod.

Brea shook her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s a wonder they haven’t killed each other yet. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if Krennic’s bad mood is because Tarkin’s finally found a way to outmaneuver him.”

You were just about to add your own two credits when the sharp hiss of the command deck doors sliding open sent a chill down your spine. Brea stiffened beside you, her expression going from relaxed to rigid in an instant. You didn’t need to look to know who had just entered. There was only one person whose mere presence could kill the atmosphere in the room that quickly.

Director Orson Krennic. Just the topic of conversation.

Both of you snapped your attention back to your consoles, fingers suddenly busy typing away at meaningless data as you fought to appear as though you were diligently focused. You could sense him before you saw him, the air around him practically crackling.

His clipped footsteps echoed ominously as he stalked across the deck, barking orders at officers in his path. “Lieutenant Rein, is there a reason these reports are incomplete? You’re telling me the entirety of this ship’s command structure is incapable of following basic protocol?”

Rein, visibly flustered, stammered out a response. “Sir, the system updates delayed the transfer—”

“Spare me your excuses,” Krennic snapped, his voice cold enough to frost over. “I expect results, not delays. If you can’t manage something as simple as a report, I’ll find someone who can.”

You couldn’t help yourself as curiosity got the better of you. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you saw him standing tall, his white uniform a stark contrast against the gray walls. His blue eyes, blazing with intensity, locked onto Rein, who looked ready to melt into the floor. Which is a shame seeing as you always quite liked Rein. Despite his arrogance.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Krennic’s gaze shifted— and met yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. His eyes, sharp and calculating, held yours with an intensity that made your knees shake. For a brief moment, everything seemed to stand still. It felt like he was seeing right through you, peeling back layers with that piercing stare.

And quickly realising you had been staring, you quickly turned back to your console, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Brea shot you a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

You leaned in, voice hushed and panicked. “I made eye contact.”

Brea’s eyes widened, “You what? Are you mad? He’s been chewing out anyone who so much as looks at him the wrong way!”

“Believe me, it wasn’t intentional,” you hissed back, your heart still racing. “It just… happened.”

“Forget it,” Brea whispered urgently. “Just keep your head down. Maybe he didn’t notice.”

But you weren’t so sure. He definitely noticed. Even as you pretended to be absorbed in your work, you could still feel the weight of his gaze, as if it lingered for a fraction longer on the back of your head more than necessary before moving on. There was something unsettling, and strangely magnetic, about the way he’d looked at you. You shuddered, not trying to think about it.

The rest of your shift passed in tense silence. Even after Krennic finally left the deck, the atmosphere remained charged. Nobody even dared speak and you were certain that Rein was crying in a corner somewhere. Brea shot you a nervous look, but all you could do was shake your head, still trying to shake off the odd feeling that had settled in your chest.

One thing was certain; working aboard an Imperial vessel was dangerous enough without catching the attention of someone like Director Krennic.

The hum of activity aboard the ship fell silent as Commander Ralson began his inspection. You stood at attention in a perfectly straight line alongside your fellow officers, boots polished, uniforms crisp. These routine checks were a necessary nuisance, and normally, you’d breeze through them without a second thought. But today, an uneasy feeling gnawed at you. A cold knot of tension curled in your stomach.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was just nerves from being up late working through endless reports. But your palms were sweating, something that never happened, and you couldn’t shake the sense that something more was coming.

Or someone else.

The Commander walked down the line, sharp eyes inspecting every detail, pausing now and then to critique the smallest flaw. As he drew closer, you steadied your breathing. You could handle Ralson—he was stern, but predictable. But before he could reach your spot, the doors hissed open with an unmistakable whoosh.

There he is again; Director Krennic.

You felt Brea stiffen beside you, a silent ripple of unease passing through the line. The director’s appearance was enough to make even the most seasoned officers tense up. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was Ralson’s routine. So why had he decided to show up?

“Director,” Ralson greeted, snapping to attention as Krennic approached. “I was just—”

“Carry on, Commander. I’m merely observing.” Krennic’s tone was cool, but there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice that left little room for discussion. He moved with calculated grace, his white cape swishing slightly as he surveyed the room with a sharp, almost predatory gaze. “I want to ensure everything is… perfect.”

A shiver ran down your spine as he said the word, the emphasis sending a subtle chill through the air. Krennic began to pace slowly down the line, inspecting each officer with an unnerving precision. Unlike Ralson, who was concerned with the standard details, Krennic’s gaze seemed to dig deeper; as if searching for weaknesses beneath the surface.

You focused straight ahead, trying to keep your expression neutral, even as you felt the weight of his presence drawing closer. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you cursed yourself silently. You never reacted like this to any other officer, no matter their rank. But there was something about Krennic—something that got under your skin in a way that was impossible to define.

When he finally reached your position, he slowed down, pausing right in front of you. He hadn’t stopped for anyone else. Not a single other officer had warranted more than a passing glance, but now, he was standing inches away, studying you.

Did he remember you from yesterday? There were over 1,000 officers on this vessel and you never stood out, or so you think.

The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through you. You had caught his eye in that brief, charged moment, and now you couldn’t help but wonder if it had left an impression—an impression you weren’t sure you wanted to make.

You could feel the heat of his gaze as it traced the lines of your uniform, then slowly traveled up to meet your eyes. Every instinct told you to keep staring straight ahead, to maintain discipline. But the longer he lingered, the harder it became to decide. Would it be disrespectful not to acknowledge him? Or was it more dangerous to meet his gaze and invite his scrutiny?

In the end, you opted for caution, keeping your focus rigidly forward. But Krennic wasn’t having it. He shifted ever so slightly, ensuring his line of sight intersected yours, forcing you into the dilemma you’d been dreading.

His eyes locked onto yours, and time seemed to stretch impossibly long. There was something unreadable in his expression, a mix of curiosity and calculation that sent a prickle of discomfort through your skin. It felt like he was analysing every thought behind your eyes. The air between you tightened with tension, your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

Finally, Krennic made a small, almost dismissive sound in his throat, something between a scoff and a clearing of his voice. The spell broke, and he moved on, continuing down the line without another word.

You exhaled shakily, realising only now that you’d been holding your breath. Brea, who had been standing to your right, leaned slightly in, her voice barely a whisper. “Relax. He’s just testing you. If he was going to tear you apart, he’d have done it already.”

Her attempt to calm you fell flat. You nodded minutely, but the knot of tension in your chest didn’t loosen. Instead, it twisted tighter, leaving you on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Krennic’s unpredictability was what unnerved you the most—you could never tell if his silence was a sign of approval or if he was simply waiting for the right moment to strike.

And the worst part? You still had no idea what he was thinking, what his intentions might be, or whether this was just the beginning of a game you were being drawn into.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

But you didn’t plan to think of him from then. Every single night.

The next few days blurred into a familiar routine. The ship hummed with the usual activity, the daily grind of assignments, reports, and inspections keeping you busy. Everything had returned to normal. Seemingly.

You hadn’t seen Director Krennic since that unsettling inspection, and life aboard the ship had resumed its regular pattern. But despite the return to routine, your mind remained troubled.

You’d hoped the lingering tension would vanish once Krennic was out of sight, out of mind. But it seemed he had carved out a space in your thoughts, one that you couldn’t quite push away. And Brea didn’t help either.

“Did you hear what I found out?” She asked, leaning over the console, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Apparently, Tarkin’s been stepping up his little power plays. He’s convinced the Emperor that Krennic’s lost control of the project. If Krennic’s mood couldn’t get any worse!”

You forced a half-hearted smile, normally ready to match her gossip with snarky quips or some dramatic theory. But today, you were quieter than usual, the usual banter falling flat. You could tell Brea noticed the change in your mood, but she narrowed it to exhaustion or a tough assignment. Which was not far from the truth.

You were tired but mainly because your mind was still rattled by Krennic’s staring. The sight of his eyes had stuck with you, replaying in your mind whenever you were alone.

You hadn’t told Brea about it and probably won’t, but you’d spent more than a few nights lying awake, wondering why he had singled you out. Why couldn’t you let it go? Worse yet, you caught yourself subtly scanning the corridors, half-hoping, half-dreading to see that white cape in the distance.

You were searching for him, and you hated yourself for it.

But as days passed and there was no sign of Krennic, you started to relax. You told yourself he had probably left on one of his shuttles, returning to oversee some other corner of his vast operation. It was for the best, you decided. Life was easier without the gnawing uncertainty his presence brought.

You were in the mess hall with Brea one afternoon, chatting over lunch, when a shadow fell over your table. Looking up, you saw Commander Ralson standing there, his expression stern.

“Commander,” you greeted, straightening slightly.

“Lieutenant,” he said, his voice formal, though you caught a hint of discomfort in his eyes. “Director Krennic requires your presence in his office. Immediately.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart lurched as a cold wave of anxiety surged through you. Brea shot you a wide-eyed look, biting her lip to keep from blurting out a comment, though you could practically see the questions swirling in her head.

“Understood,” you replied, keeping your voice steady despite the panic starting to bubble beneath the surface.

As you followed the Commander down the corridors, your mind raced, conjuring every worst-case scenario you could imagine. What could he want? Had you done something wrong? Was this some elaborate punishment for whatever offense you might’ve unknowingly committed? Maker, you knew you should’ve never looked at him.

You were ushered into Krennic’s private office, and the door slid shut behind you with a soft hiss. The room was sleek and cold, polished surfaces and sharp lines dominating the decor. It was almost clinical in its precision, every detail meticulously curated. But your focus was immediately drawn to the man seated behind the massive desk.

Krennic didn’t look up as you entered, his attention fixed on the datapad in front of him. His fingers tapped steadily on the device, the soft clicks echoing in the quiet room. For a long, agonising moment, you simply stood there, nerves prickling under your skin as you waited for him to acknowledge you.

You didn’t want to say it either but it was kinda rude he didn’t.

Finally, without lifting his gaze, he spoke. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, Lieutenant.”

His voice was smooth, almost indifferent, but you could hear the faintest edge to it. You swallowed hard, your palms clammy as you tried to find your voice. “Yes, sir.”

Krennic paused his work, leaning back in his chair as he finally looked up at you, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours with that same unnerving intensity from before. “The officer responsible for assisting me with project reports - what was it, Rein? - has… departed. Apparently, my expectations were too much for him.” There was a faint smirk on his lips, a mix of satisfaction and disdain.

He watched your reaction closely, as if weighing how you’d respond. You could feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to stay composed.

“And that replacement is… me?” you asked, though the answer was obvious.

“Precisely.” He clipped. “I require someone competent, someone who doesn’t wilt under pressure. I’m told you fit that description.”

You forced yourself to nod, though your thoughts were spiraling. Reports? That couldn’t be all there was to this. Why you, specifically? You had to bite back the urge to question him further, to ask what he really wanted. But you knew better than to push.

“Understood, Director,” you managed, your voice steady, if a bit hollow.

He stared at you a moment longer, as if gauging something deeper. The silence stretched just long enough before he leaned forward slightly, returning his attention to his datapad. “Good. You’ll start tomorrow at 0700 sharp. Don’t be late.”

You could only nod in response, the knot in your chest tightening as he dismissed you with a casual wave of his hand. You turned on your heel and exited the office, the door sliding shut behind you with a finality that sent a shudder down your spine.

As you walked back to the mess hall, Brea was the first person you saw, her eyes wide with curiosity as she rushed up to you. “Well? What did he want?”

You swallowed hard, still trying to process what had just happened. “He wants me to help him with project reports,” you said flatly, your mind still racing.

Brea’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding. He’s putting you in charge of that? Sounds like a nightmare.” She paused, her voice dropping lower. “But I bet there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

You didn’t answer.

As Brea continued talking, her words blurred into background noise, your thoughts returning to that cold office, to the unreadable expression on Krennic’s face.

Tomorrow will be interesting, to say the least.

You barely slept that night, your mind spinning with scenarios, each worse than the last. What if you made a mistake? What if Krennic was testing you? By the time your alarm chimed, you were already awake, staring at the ceiling, your nerves frayed.

By the time you reached Krennic’s office at 0700 sharp, you felt hollow, running on jittery adrenaline and determination.

But when you arrived, the office was empty.

The pristine room was eerily quiet, save for the steady hum of the ship’s systems. You looked around, unsure whether to sit down or wait outside. After a moment’s hesitation, you decided you couldn’t just stand there doing nothing.

You’d seen the collection of data devices stacked neatly on the side of his desk, ready for the day’s work. You assumed they were intended for you, so you entered and gathered them.

The pile of devices was heavier than you expected, and you couldn’t help but wonder why all the data couldn’t be put onto one device. You gathered everything into your arms, careful not to disturb anything else, but the stack was awkward to manage. As you straightened, one of the smaller devices slipped slightly, almost falling, and you quickly adjusted it. Unbeknownst to you, nestled at the bottom of the pile was one of Krennic’s personal files.

A file that was not meant for you.

You set up your workstation at the small desk across the room, your focus shifting to the reports you were supposed to compile. Time crawled by as you went through the data, trying to maintain sharp attention despite your fatigue. You were lost in the numbers and projections when the door slid open and the familiar click of boots on the polished floor echoed behind you.

Director Krennic entered, his expression cool and unreadable as ever. A rush of relief washed over you as didn’t seem displeased to find you working already. You offered a polite nod of acknowledgment. “Good morning, Director.”

He barely spared you a glance, already focused on his own work. “Lieutenant,” he greeted curtly before settling into his seat. You were about to turn back to your task, thinking that perhaps things might be going smoothly for once, when his voice cut through the silence again.

“Where is it?” Krennic’s tone was sharp, irritation lacing his words.

Your fingers paused mid-typing. You looked up, confused. “Sir?”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned his desk, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the polished surface. “There was a file here—one I specifically left out for my use. It’s missing.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, anxiety flaring. You turned to face him fully, a sinking feeling creeping into your stomach. “I… I’m not sure, Director. I didn’t touch anything except the data devices you left for me.”

Krennic’s gaze fixed on you. “Then where is it, Lieutenant?” he asked icily, “I find it hard to believe a file would simply disappear.”

Panic set in as you racked your brain, desperate to figure out what could have happened. Your eyes drifted down to your pile of devices—and there, half-hidden beneath the stack, was a slim, black datapad. Your heart dropped. You gasped, recognising the insignia marking it as one of Krennic’s personal files.

You swallowed hard and immediately grabbed the file, stepping forward with shaky hands. “I’m so sorry, sir. I must have picked it up by accident when I was gathering my work.”

His eyes darkened as you held out the datapad, his expression unreadable. “I see,” he said slowly, his voice devoid of emotion. He took the file from you, his fingers brushing yours just briefly, but it was his gaze that made you shiver.

For a tense moment, he studied you with unnerving intensity. Then, with a deliberate pause, he asked, “Did you read it?”

Your heart hammered in your chest, the question hanging in the air like a death sentence. “No, Director. I swear I didn’t,” you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Krennic leaned back in his chair, tapping the datapad lightly against his palm, considering. “Good. Because if you had,” he said, his tone low, “I wouldn’t be nearly as lenient.”

You nodded stiffly, unsure what to say. “Understood, Director. It won’t happen again.”

There was another long pause as he continued to watch you, and you found yourself standing taller, somehow more confident as you held his gaze. Finally, he gave a small, almost dismissive nod, as though deciding you were no longer worth his immediate attention. “See that it doesn’t.”

With that, he returned to his work as if nothing had happened, leaving you standing there, feeling both relieved and shaken. You quickly returned to your desk, your thoughts racing. The encounter left a bitter taste in your mouth—a reminder of just how precarious your position was.

You tried to focus on your work, eyes fixed on the screen, or in your case many screens, in front of you, but it was impossible to ignore him. Across the room, Krennic sat behind his desk, absorbed in whatever task demanded his attention. His brow furrowed in concentration as he read, fingers idly twirling a sleek, black pen with a dexterity that seemed almost effortless.

Your gaze drifted over to him before you could stop yourself, drawn in by the sharp angles of his face, the crisp lines of his perfectly tailored uniform. His appearance was always immaculate, a reflection of the discipline and precision he demanded from everyone around him. But it was his eyes that kept you lingering, those striking electric-blue eyes that seemed to pierce through anyone in their path. They were colder than ice, yet held a certain allure, a dangerous charm that you found yourself being drawn too.

The realisation hit you like a blast of cold air: you found him attractive.

Ridiculously attractive.

It was a thought that sent a jolt of panic through your chest. Why him, of all people? He was your Boss. But there was just something about him; something about the way he commanded a room, the aura of authority he carried effortlessly. It was infuriating and fascinating all at once.

As if on cue, Krennic suddenly looked up, his gaze locking onto yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, your face heating up as you pretended to be engrossed in the report. You held your breath, sincerely hoping he hadn’t caught you staring.

You risked a quick glance back, only to find his eyes still on you. But just as quickly as he’d looked, his attention returned to his work, and you exhaled, trying to convince yourself that it was just a coincidence.

But it wasn’t a one-time occurrence. Over the next few days, the strange game between you and Krennic continued. While you tried to focus on your assignments, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to him. It became a challenge—one that started to excite you. It was a dangerous game but Krennic seemed to be playing along.

When you stretched your arms, subtly arching your back, you could feel his eyes on you. If you stifled a yawn or let your teeth catch your lower lip in thought, his gaze would flicker to you, lingering just a moment too long on your lips. And you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you every time it happened.

There were moments when you swore he was watching you more intently than before, as if trying to unravel the thoughts running through your head. Yet he never commented on it. No reprimands, no acknowledgments—just that watchful stare.

You found yourself pushing the boundaries, testing the waters in subtle ways. Adjusting your posture, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, even letting out a soft, exaggerated sigh when you pretended to be frustrated with a report. Each time, his eyes would lift from whatever he was doing, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you, lingering before he returned to his work as if nothing had happened.

It was maddening.

And intoxicating.

You knew it was risky to toy with someone like Krennic, but you couldn’t help yourself. The thrill of catching his attention, of knowing that beneath his stoic exterior, something in him was attuned to your every movement. You did wonder what was going through his mind. Was this just another power play for him, a way to keep you on edge? Or was there something more beneath the surface? Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having his attention, even if it came with a twinge of fear.

You had just returned from your break, a little more relaxed after stepping away from the unrelenting tension that hung between you and Krennic for the past few days. But as you walked into the office, your tranquility was shattered—literally.

The crash of something smashing against the wall made you yelp, your heart lurching in your chest. You froze, wide-eyed, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Shards of shattered glass glistened on the floor beside you, the remnants of what was once a data device. Your gaze snapped to Krennic.

He was standing behind his desk, hair slightly disheveled, his usually impeccable composure nowhere to be seen. His hands were splayed flat against the polished surface of the desk, knuckles white, as he leaned forward with his shoulders heaving. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath, and the seething energy radiating from him was almost terrifying.

Your voice came out small and unsure, breaking the heavy silence. “S-Sir? Is everything okay?”

For a long, agonising moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze was locked somewhere distant, his usually sharp eyes now clouded with barely contained fury. You had never seen him like this.

But then you recall Brea’s gossip from earlier in the week; something about how Krennic was due for a transmission from Tarkin today. Given the state he was in, it was clear that conversation hadn’t gone too well.

Carefully, you moved toward his personal caf machine in the corner. The idea of making him a cup of caf wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was the only thing you could think of. Anything to diffuse the tension. You filled the cup, your fingers trembling slightly as you brought it over to his desk.

“I brought you some caf,” you said quietly, setting it down in front of him. “It looks like you might need it.”

For a long moment, Krennic didn’t react, his eyes still fixed on some invisible point far beyond the room. But then, almost as if he was waking from a trance, he blinked and his gaze slowly drifted to you. The storm in his eyes had softened, but there was something else there now—something vulnerable, almost unsure. His voice was low, barely above a murmur. “Did I hurt you?”

The sound of him saying your name, your real name, not “Lieutenant”, caught you off guard. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you shook your head. “No, sir,” you assured him, a soft sincerity in your tone.

Krennic exhaled a long breath, the tension visibly draining from him. He stood up straighter, his composure slowly knitting itself back together as he reached for the caf. It was only when he took a step closer to you that he seemed to notice how near you were standing. His eyes swept over your face, searching for something—perhaps fear or unease—but you held your ground, offering a small, genuine smile instead.

He took the caf you offered, raising the cup to his lips. As he took a slow sip, his eyes never left yours. “Nothing stronger?” he asked, an edge of dark humor with the question.

Your smile widened, and you shook your head lightly. “Not in this office, sir.”

There was a flicker of amusement, perhaps, or maybe even appreciation in his gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him like this, letting his guard slip, if only slightly. The man who usually carried himself with unshakeable control was showing you a crack in that armor.

Krennic sighed again, softer this time, and took another sip of the caf. The tension in the room had dissipated, and for a moment, it was just the two of you standing there, the usual unspoken games between you paused.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone quieter, almost reluctant, as though gratitude wasn’t something he often expressed. “For the caf… and for not running.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that you didn’t expect. “Anytime, sir.”

Krennic was just about to turn back to his desk when you moved without thinking. You stepped closer, your hand reaching out almost on instinct, fingers brushing through his hair, “here,” you whisper as you begin smoothing it into place. The strands of his hair were softer than you expected, slipping under your fingers with surprising ease. You straightened his collar next, tugging lightly to even out the fabric until it was perfectly aligned, followed by the collar of his cape.

But then the realisation hit you—what are you doing? Your breath caught in your throat as you registered the closeness between you, the warmth radiating off his body now that you were standing mere inches away. Krennic stiffened, only just realising what you had done as his eyes flicked down to your hands, then back to your flushed face.

Your mouth opened, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but the words came out in a flustered rush. “I—Sir, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could turn away and retreat, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist with surprising gentleness. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with command. You froze as he pulled you closer, the gap between your bodies vanishing. His breath was warm against your cheek, carrying the faint, comforting scent of the caf you had just brewed. Your pulse raced as his eyes scan over your face, studying you with an intensity that made you feel like one of the blueprints on his desk—scrutinised, analysed, evaluated.

“You don’t understand what you do to me,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he was confessing something he’d kept locked away. His grip on your wrist loosened, but his touch lingered, sliding down to rest against your waist. The heat of his palm seeped through the fabric of your uniform, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve been thinking about you ever since that day on the deck,” he continued, his tone dark and laced with something almost feral. “You caught my eye the moment you looked at me… and you haven’t left my mind since.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve ending buzzing with the tension that crackled between you. The way his eyes pinned you in place, the way his hand subtly flexed against your waist. It was too much, and yet not enough. You found your voice, shaky but eager to engage. “I thought it was just me,” you admitted, breath hitching as he leaned in even closer, so close that your noses nearly brushed.

The smirk that curled his lips was intoxicating, laced with satisfaction at your confession. “You’ve been teasing me,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill shooting straight through you. “Stretching… biting that lip of yours… do you think I didn’t notice?”

“I was hoping that you would,” you rasp as your eyes flicker to his lips. Your mouth went dry as you struggled to respond with anything, but before you could form anything, he surged forward and captured your lips with a dominant, demanding kiss.

The force of it stole your breath, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for hesitation. You gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You barely had time to respond before his hands were on you, strong and decisive, lifting you with ease. You let out a soft gasp as he set you down atop his desk, flimsi scattering beneath you as he stepped between your legs, slotting himself there with deliberate intent.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform as you kissed him back, just as fervent and needy as he was. “Director,” you whimper breathlessly.

The pressure of his lips against yours was intoxicating, a heady mix of desperation and desire that left you dizzy. One of his hands slid up your thigh, curling possessively around your hip as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing at your lips until you parted them with a soft moan; tongue wrapping around yours expertly.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were blazing, “You’re driving me mad,” he rasped, his voice hoarse as he trailed his thumb across your lower lip, eyes fixated on the way it trembled under his touch. “Every time I see you, it takes everything in me not to do exactly this.”

You could barely think, let alone form a reply. All you knew was that this was the breaking point—days, maybe weeks, of unspoken tension had led to this moment, and now there was no turning back. The thrill of it, the danger, was overwhelming. “Then don’t hold back,” you whispered, daring him with a gaze that matched his intensity.

A wicked grin spread across his lips, and before you could draw another breath, he was kissing you again—deeper, harder. His hand began to get tangled in your hair that had become loose from its tight bun as the other gripped your waist, pulling you even closer as you clung to him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

As Krennic stepped back, his eyes were heavy with lust and with intent. His gaze never wavered from yours as he slowly slid off his gloves, each movement deliberate, calculated. You shivered from the way he looked at you. It was like he was savouring every second, every inch of you.

He reached for your uniform, fingers grazing your shoulders as he began to undress you. The fabric slipped away from your skin with an excruciating slowness, leaving your chest exposed, clad only in your bra. His eyes darkened with admiration as his hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak that was protruding under the fabric, coaxing a soft gasp from your lips.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, as though in awe of what he was revealing. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the edge of lace before his other hand slid down to your waistband.

“Raise your hips, darling.” You do as he asks, completely in awe as he tugged your pants down, letting them pool at your ankles before carefully lifting them away. Now, you were left vulnerable before him, the cool material of the desk beneath you a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He discarded his gloves completely, tossing them aside without a care, and held his fingers to your lips. “Suck on my fingers. Get them nice and wet for me.”

The desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and without hesitation, you parted your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around them, sucking gently as you let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering shut in the process.

The taste of leather from his gloves was faint, but the sensation of his fingers in your mouth was overwhelmingly intimate. His gaze never left you, watching intently, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. The praise sent a flush of warmth through your body, and your moans deepened as you swirl your tongue over his fingertips.

He chuckled softly, a lustful, satisfied sound, before pulling his fingers free from your lips with a soft pop. He wasted no time as his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers sliding over the damp fabric of your underwear. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sighs in approval before he hooked them aside. The moment his fingers made contact with your slick heat, a gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively trembling.

“There we go,” he murmured, voice low and husky as he teased you with feather-light touches. “So ready… and all for me.”

He watched you intently, eyes half-lidded with desire as he explored you, fingers gliding with a smoothness that made you whimper. The way he looked at you—like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever laid eyes on—had your heart racing. You couldn’t hold back the small whimpers and gasps as his fingers pressed deeper, slipping inside your pussy, you moan out every ounce of need that had been building up between you for days.

Krennic leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me how much you want this.”

“I want it so much… please,” you breathed out, hardly recognising your own voice as you begged him.

The smirk on his lips grew darker, and without another word, he curled his finger deeper inside you, his fingers finding that spot within you that made your back arch and your breath hitch. The rhythm he set was both maddeningly slow and utterly precise, like he was savoring every little reaction you gave him, drawing out your pleasure until it was almost unbearable. “So receptive, aren’t you?”

“D-Director, don’t stop.. oh fuck.. please don’t stop.” You lay your back flat on the desk, legs spreading wider as your hands move over your breasts, pulling them out the cup of your bra and begin to pinch at your hardened nipples, desperate for that extra edge.

You hear him let out something similar to a whimper as he watches you, his other hand that had been resting on your thigh moving to brush over your clit, his fingers making fast work. “There you go, there you go my beautiful girl. Give in to me.”

Each touch, each movement was deliberate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he pushed you closer to the edge. But it was the look in his eyes-predatory and possessive- that had you crashing down with your high. You back arches from the table, panting his name as your legs tremble desperately with your release.

He doesn’t let up, chuckling as he pinches your sensitive clit as you cry out, unphased if anyone were to hear you. “F-Fuck! Please,” you cry, unsure what you are really trying to ask for.

Eventually, he lets go and takes your arms, sitting you up. You're dizzy, disoriented as he takes your chin between his fingers, making sure your gaze is on him. “You did so, so well.” He praises, moving his fingers to his lips and licking them, followed by him putting his fingers back into your mouth, tasting your aftermath.

You suck on his fingers like a woman starved and then lean into him, kissing him. He smiles against your lips, swallowing his small moans as you quietly beg him for more.

He began to undress, unfastening his uniform with practiced ease, but you suddenly reached out and took hold of his hands.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling with both anticipation and a daring excitement. “Can I have you… like this?” You gestured to his still-partially-clad form, your eyes roving over the impeccably sharp lines of his uniform. The thought of being taken by him while he remained in his authoritative attire stirred a deep, thrilling excitement in you.

Krennic raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Are you commanding the Director now?” His voice was a mix of amusement and curiosity, but there was no mistaking the gleam of intrigue in his eyes.

You flushed slightly, feeling a shiver of self-consciousness. “I didn’t mean to—” you began, but he interrupted you with a chuckle, clearly delighted by your boldness.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, his tone dropping to a low, seductive murmur, “then who am I to refuse?”

With a fluid motion, he released himself from his pants, the sight of his arousal makes you gasp. He stroked himself slowly, the motion smooth and controlled. Your gaze followed the movement of his hand, mesmerised by the way he seemed to effortlessly control his own pleasure.

“Sir,” you whispered, “you’re so…” you don’t even have the words, your mouth salivating as you watch him.

Krennic’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “You like that, don’t you? The authority, the control?”

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Yes, Director. I want you… now.”

He grinned, the expression a mix of pride and desire, and moved closer, positioning you carefully atop the desk. He guided you into a position that had you spread out in a way that made you feel utterly at his mercy. The cool surface of the desk was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body as he hovered above you, his uniform still immaculate.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart with deliberate slowness. You shudder under his touch, a small whine parting your lips as the tip of his cock settles upon your clit, his hips gently rocking back and forth to tease you. “You’re trembling,” he murmurs, “Is it fear… or something else, darling?”

You bite your lip, your breath catching as his voice sends shivers down your spine, watching his gorgeous swollen head starts to move between your folds this time. “You know exactly what it is, Director.”

“Such a clever girl. Always so eager to please.” His tone is teasing, but beneath it lies an edge of hunger, barely restrained. His hands trail down your body, brushing over your exposed skin, almost like he’s admiring a fine piece of art. He grabs his cock again and this time he pushes past the teasing and slips wonderfully inside you, filling you. There’s a wince on your tongue, eyes screwing shut as he stretches you. It had been a while.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles, his head tilting back as he settles inside you, allowing himself and you to adjust to his girth, “such a warm cunt.”

You whimper at his filthy words, watching between your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows as he begins to move in and out of you, his cock glimmering with your arousal before he pushes back into you.

His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I think you like being at my mercy,” he says softly, his voice laced with both challenge and curiosity. “You crave it, don’t you? That sense of submission… knowing that I’m in control.”

You swallow hard, feeling the truth of his words sink in just as his cock does. “Yes, Director,” you reply, your voice a whisper as your fingers grip the desk. “I trust you.”

For a brief moment, something flickers in his eyes—something more vulnerable, almost appreciative—but it’s quickly replaced by that signature smirk. “Good. Because I intend to take everything you’re willing to give.”

With that, Krennic presses you closer to him, his cock reaching that spot inside you with a heated jolt. “M-More, please.” You beg as he holds your thighs further apart as he starts to thrust with even strides, the pleasure like no other as you submit to him completely.

His groans are low and rough, his eyes fixed on watching his cock slip in and out of you with ease. He raises one of your legs, hooking it around his back as his hands begin to travel up your body.

Breath hitching, his fingers brush over your collarbone, tracing a line from your neck down to your chest where he then pinches and tugs gently at your nipples. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs. “A picture of submission and beauty, being devoured by me.” His thrusts become rough, the flimsi on his desk scattering below you as you lay fully back, your body thrusting up and down the desk with every powerful grind.

He leans over the top of you, capturing your lips in a kiss, claiming every ounce of your attention. You respond in kind, hands curling into the fabric of his uniform as you pull him closer, both of your legs now wrapping around his body, tangled in his cape.

“Director,” you whisper against his lips, the title now carrying a deeper, more intimate weight.

“Say that again,” he commands, his voice husky as he brushes his lips along your jaw, his fingers tightening their grip on you.

“Director,” you moan softly, your voice laced with submission and desire. The word is like a key, unlocking something primal in him as his gaze darkens with raw intensity. “F-Fuck, you’re so good pleasing me. Your cock is so thick.”

“That’s a good girl.” His voice is a velvet growl, full of dark promise, and his hands slide back to your waist, lifting you and flipping you so your face was now pressed down against his desk, legs dangling over the edge as he takes you from behind effortlessly. “Now, let’s see just how well you can follow orders.”

You moan desperately as he spanks your arse, swearing out loud in pleasure as his cock drills harsher into you than before, his hand tangled in your hair as he grips firmly onto it as he takes you.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he confesses, in a desperate moan, pulling out and slapping his arse with his cock before fucking straight back into you. “Since the moment I saw you watching me—.” he growls with a roll of his hips, “thinking you were being so subtle, so discreet. But I noticed.”

You can’t help but smirk, remembering every stolen glance, every time you tried to hide how much you were drawn to him. “I couldn’t help it,” you admit, voice breathless as you move yourself back up onto his cock. “You’re impossible to ignore.”

You don’t see it but his eyes flash with satisfaction, your walls tightening perfectly around his cock with every praise sent both ways. After a minute of brutal fucking, he flips you so you’re on your back again, stealing a kiss from your lips as he seethes back inside you.

Your back contorts, rising off the desk in an effort to press your hips further down, to take him deeper even when you see Krennic almost bottoming out—his cock pressed almost painfully against your cervix. “Stars, you’re so beautiful.” He moans in a higher octave, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands wrap around his back, clawing at his cape.

Your head spins with the thought that he was going to cum and coat your inside with his powerful, seed. Your body has submitted fully to him and is desperate to take more and more of him, to take all of him.

He leans back suddenly, one hand grabbing at your waist and the other moving to brush over your clit. “You’re close aren’t you, hm? You’re going to cum with me-!”

You see how affected he is—the sweat that bundled trickled down the side of his temple, his blue eyes half-lidded and so full of desire, his brows furrowed with pleasure. He’s going to cum soon and you can read it all over his face. “Such a divine pussy, you’re so beautiful.” He gasps and you’re in complete awe as you watch him come undone as you soon meet your high as stars start to blur in your eyes. “Fuck, cum with me, I’m fucking-!”

The next moments blur into a series of touches, kisses, and desperate whispered words as the tension that’s been building between you for days finally finds release. Your body trembles with the shake of your orgasm, his fingers working perfectly against your clit as he pumps inside of you.

And Krennic doesn’t hold back, and neither do you.

By the time he finally pulls away, breath ragged and chest heaving, the desk is askew, flimsi scattered, but neither of you care. His uniform remains perfectly in place, while you lay back, utterly spent and thoroughly satisfied. His fingers trail down your arm, the touch almost tender now, as he studies you with a look that’s oddly affectionate.

“You did well, darling,” he murmurs, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve more than earned my attention.”

Krennic adjusted his uniform a touch and then took a seat on the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes with a content expression.

Meanwhile you stood nearby, suddenly feeling shy and unsure, the intensity of what just happened leaving you at a slight loss. The confidence you’d felt just moments ago just vanished. After all, this was Director Krennic. Your superior. How were you supposed to act now?

Sensing your hesitation, Krennic leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking in your expression. With a softness that was different to his usual sharp demeanor, he reached out and took your hand. “Come here,” he said, the command wrapped in a velvet tone. There was a tenderness in the way he guided you closer, a hand resting on your hip as he coaxed you to sit on his lap.

Blushing, you settled against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the firmness of his embrace. He reached for the collar of his cape and gently wrapped it around your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but ask the question that had been lingering on your mind, your voice softer than usual. “Why… why did this happen?” Your fingers toyed with the edge of his cape, nervous yet curious.

Krennic paused for just a moment, his fingers brushing against your back in soothing, repetitive motions. “Because I’m drawn to you,” he admitted, his voice lower, more honest. “This isn’t just a fleeting indulgence. You’ve captured my attention in ways I didn’t anticipate. And no,” he added, his tone firm but reassuring, “this won’t be a one-time thing. But it must remain between us. Do you understand?”

You nodded, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as his hand continued its calming path up and down your back. There was something comforting about the way he held you now. Dominant yet caring.

“Director…” you began after a few minutes of gentle humming and touches, unsure of how to continue. You wanted to ask if you should get dressed, if you should return to your duties.

He responded with a soft, knowing smile, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “When we’re alone, you may call me Orson,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

You smiled shyly against his lips, whispering, “Orson,” testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange but intimate.

He chuckles, liking the way you said his name. “That’s better,” he whispered, trailing his fingers along your jawline. “Now, let’s take our time, shall we?”

Tags: @99tech99 @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tentakelspektakel @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings

#director krennic #director krennic x reader #reader x krennic #krennic x reader #orson krennic x reader #Orson krennic #nahoney22 writes #rogue one #andor

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himezoro · 11 months ago

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love wins all (a roronoa zoro story, part 1)

tysm for your support on my last update ! i'm trying to post as much as i can. here is part 1 of a story called "love wins all" starring roronoa zoro, i hope this premiere will be of your taste ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

part 2 here.

warning! : smut (implied, so minors please DNI!), angst, female gender, (Y/N) insert.

wc : 2k.

・˚˖𓍢ִ໋⋆‧₊˚ ࣪⋆・

« So I guess my invitation got lost in the mail? » you heard the hoarse voice speaking through the opened door of your quarters. You kept on looking at yourself in the magnificent mirror standing in front of you, looking at how the white dress hugged your form, pretending not to have heard the said voice, ignoring the immediate chills it sent down your spine. You knew who these words belonged to, and so did your racing heartbeat.

.・゜゜・ 24 hours before ・゜゜・．

It was an ordinary day on the Thousands Sunny. Everyone in the crew kept busy attending their activities. Luffy was playing with Usopp and Chopper, Franky kept himself busy with the ship’s artillery, Sanji was preparing dinner with Brook playing beautiful pieces of violin by his side, while Nami and Robin were busy talking. Zoro was enjoying his nap under the sun. It was an ordinary day, but a perfect day to spend.

Zoro liked hanging alone, to concentrate on his goal, to meditate. Sometimes, and only sometimes, would he allow himself to wander through his memories, and the ones of one particular night, before he even joined the crew, before he met Luffy almost three years ago. The night he spent by your side, kissing you until your lungs gave out, making love to you like he never made love to anyone, because you were his first, and vice versa. The night he laughed his heart off, the night he traced hearts all over your thighs while gripping them hard as he fucked you with all his might. The night he heard you say “I love you”, the night he gave his heart to you, the night he swore won’t ever end.

The night before he walked away saying his dream was unstoppable. The night he said “it was not the right time”. The night before he broke your heart, the night before he heard you cry. The night you said you hated him, and wished it never happened.

The night he wished to forget.

For sure, there were times he tried to reach out for you. First, he thought of a letter, but only contemplated the paper he took from Nami’s stationary before smashing it into a ball and slamming it to the wall. Once the crew got a Den Den Mushi, he thought about calling you. And he did, multiple times, always hanging up when he heard the sound of the voice he loved so much it haunted him at night.

Sometimes he would catch himself thinking about how you would fit onto the ship, into the crew that became his family. He knew the girls would adore you, and that Usopp’s stories would make you laugh. He knew Luffy would live by your kindness and take advantage of it during dinner. He knew you would love hugging Chopper and eat Sanji’s treats, even though this latest thought triggered his jealousy, since he knew the cook would be head over heels for you.

And when he lingered there alone, his usual frown on his napping face, he suddenly felt his ears pick, tickling.

“Did you see the news on the paper? It says the wedding of the century is going to happen!” Nami exclaimed, the paper still in her hand while Robin sipped on her tea, tilting her head to take a peek at the head title.

“Ono Nusjuro, the rich bachelor noble, son of Ethanbaron Nusjuro, to marry (Y/N) tomorrow for the wedding of the century! It sure sounds decadent” Robin laughed, letting Nami get back to her commenting.

“Come on, doesn’t he look quite hot? Honestly, if he weren’t a filthy noble and I was not the Pirate queen I am today, I would definitely have tried to date him. I mean, look at his eyes? HIS FACE? I mean, the dude’s perfect.”

Before Robin could interfere, Usopp and Sanji got to their table wondering what the fuss was about, while Zoro remained at his place. After all, it was just your name. It didn’t mean it was you.

It can’t be, he inwardly scoffed.

“Oh LAWD, who’s that gorgeous girl? Don’t tell me she’s going to marry that jackass? I mean, yeah he’s got money and all and he’s a little handsome but did he live as much adventures as I have?” Usopp said while staring at the papers above Nami’s shoulder.

“Quelle beauté... (what a beauty). She’s an angel bestowed by the Gods to walk on this planet and let us dream. Such a shame that sloth is taking her away, while I would treat her like the Queen she is meant to be...” Sanji sighed.

It can’t be, it couldn’t. Zoro thought, his logic gaining power.

“Just imagine the amount of food there’s going to be. I mean, the guy’s family is loaded. And the clothes, the jewelry…” Nami kept on dreaming, not noticing that the captain ran towards them at the mention of food.

“Where’s that food you’re mentioning?” Luffy asked Nami while she pointed at the paper. Luffy took a while to read the title before stating they would go at that wedding’s dinner.

“Luffy, do you understand what you’re saying?” Usopp asked, wondering if his captain has fell onto his head and lost all sense of responsibility. “We’re talking about the wedding of the century, the one of Ono Nusjuro, son of a World Noble? And we’re kind of pirates?”

“Since when did that stop your sense for adventures, Usopp?” Luffy genuinely asked, not seeing the problem.

Robin took this opportunity to take the paper into her own hands and quickly go over the article again. “Actually, the ship’s heading into the direction of the island anyway.”

And this is how the Strawhat crew decided to crash the “wedding of the century”, and how Zoro’s countdown started.

.・゜゜・ 5 hours before ・゜゜・．

The whole crew felt excited at the idea of going to a wedding. It was a change to their routine, and it included dressing up and having fun, while remaining a tad careful as to not getting caught. Zoro could not bring himself to look at the paper that started it all, he did not want this to be true.

You were his. You were his only one. The first he ever had, and the last he ever would. You wouldn’t have hidden this from him. You couldn’t. At least, that’s what his brain kept on repeating as he stepped down from the ship with the rest of the crew.

As he followed the others to pick out an elegant outfit to fit into the sumptuous décor awaiting, he heard the thrill in the inhabitants’ voices.

“Miss (Y/N) looks so gorgeous. Master Nosjuro is so lucky to have her!”, “They’ll form such a brilliant alliance for their families.” “I can’t believe this is happening!” “What do you think Miss (Y/N) will wear for the banquet? I hope she wears a princess dress, like Cinderella!”

Zoro sighed, his stubbornness maybe doing his poor aching heart a favor.

They’re wrong, (Y/N) won’t marry that jerk. Not when she's mine.

.・゜゜・ 2 hours before ・゜゜・．

Zoro followed Usopp to the shop he picked and, while his friend checked the fitting room, laid his good eye on a beautiful ring with a rose quartz in the middle. It was shaped like a burning sun, and it couldn’t help but bring a small, sad smile to his lips. He paid for it before Usopp came out of the fitting rooms and shoved his new treasure in the pockets of his new found emerald green tuxedo.

I could resell it in case I get low on cash. He thought, not wanting to admit he hoped to give it to you someday, in a wild, feverish dream.

“Aren’t you excited to live such an event? I hope there’ll be beautiful ladies there, so I can find love as well.” Usopp enthusiastically stated, shaking Zoro’s shoulders as he walked out of the fitting rooms with his costume.

As they walked out the small shop and around town, Zoro felt his heart stop. Not because of the beautiful scenery in front of him, with the bright blue sky shedding hues of pink, nor because of the wonderful music that was played.

His heart stopped because there, on the wall, was a picture of yesterday’s article.

And it had your face on it.

The face he longed to see for so long, the face he could draw with his eye closed, the face he cupped in between his large hands as he glided his tongue on your luscious lips. The lips he had seen smile so bright, the lips he had seen suck onto his thick length, the lips that caged the most sinful noises he caused that night. And it had your eyes, oh, your eyes. The eyes he would gaze into absentmindedly, the eyes that twinkled when they would see him, the eyes he saw rolling when he hit your sensitive spots that night. The eyes he filled with love at midnight, only to fill them with anger and tears by five.

Zoro clenched his fists as he stared into your picture. His nails dug into his skin, yet, he did not feel any pain. The one he felt right now in his chest though, this one, he felt deep. He has been concealing this fear for the past twenty-two hours. Hell, he has been concealing his heartache with pride and dignity for the past two to three years. Seeing what he feared to be true shed a new sense of rage and hurt into his built body.

“I know right, she’s pretty huh?” Usopp said as he noticed his friend stopping in his tracks. “But these girls are not for us, we’re adventurers, pirates! Our adventures don’t have time for beautiful ladies… even though I have to admit, she looks stunning.”

“The most beautiful in the world.” Zoro muttered only for himself to hear, gazing at the picture of your face with a deep sense of nostalgia.

He kept at looking at your face for a while, going through his memories of you. That moment where you hit his face with the pillow because of his relentless teasing before he dived in to kiss you, that moment where you played with his hair and he almost fell asleep, that moment he let his hands caress your breast as you sat down on his lap and slowly grinded. That moment where he thrusted into you for the first time and felt your cunt swallowing and squeezing him whole.

It didn’t take him another second to tear that picture down and start running, leaving Usopp dumbfounded. He started running at full speed towards the palace the wedding took place in, clenching the picture of you in his large hand.

It felt right to run. He ran away all these years, he ran away that night. Now, he ran to you. For once in his life, Zoro knew where to go, and how to get there. It felt like his heart was a compass, and the closer it felt to yours, the closer he was to his destination, where he should have been a long time before.

It’s time, he thought.

Time to get to you.

to be continued here, in part two ♡︎

#one piece x reader #op x reader #opla x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro #one piece smut #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece angst #one piece headcanon #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro smut #roronoa zoro headcanons

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curvywrites · 4 months ago

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❝ ADVICE ❞

Yunho x curvy!reader︰1.5k

AUTHORS NOTE︰yay I can post again! as always hope you enjoy and tell me your thoughts ― xo Raye ✷ FIC NOTES︰18+ ⋅ established relationship ⋅ jealousy ⋅ possessiveness

✷ SMUT NOTES︰bdsm themes ⋅ daddy kink ⋅ degredation ⋅ dom!Yunho ⋅ pet names (baby, brat, pretty girl, slut) ⋅ sub!reader

Yunho always gave you excellent advice. It had been that way since you first met, with him always being your biggest supporter from chem lab to graduation. Even after your friendship evolved into something much, much more, he continued to surprise you with his gift.

You loved being on the receiving end of his counsel, and you were happy when he helped others too, or that was what you had been telling yourself lately. You were happy when he helped anyone but her. It wasn't your boyfriend's fault, he was just being himself, but you hated the way his new coworker was texting more frequently and asking for relationship advice.

It made you insanely jealous, which you hated to admit. You trusted Yunho, but you didn't trust her. She had been blowing up his phone all evening and interrupting your couch cuddle session, the sound of his latest notification making you snap.

"Why is she still texting you? Doesn't she know this is inappropriate?" You spat as Yunho looked at you, wide eyed and confused.

It didn't take long for his lips to shift into a smirk that lit up his eyes. He had you all figured out in ten seconds flat, as usual.

"Is my pretty girl jealous? Are you not getting enough attention?" Putting down his phone, his hand found your thigh as he twisted to face you. "Poor baby."

"No! I'm not jeal―" He silenced you by pressing his fingers over your pouting lips and shushing you.

"Aww, you're so cute when you're jealous. Let me make you feel better." Leaning into you, his eyes were focused on your lips, but he avoided them at the last moment, deviating to whisper in your ear. "Take your clothes off, now."

You were quick to obey, stripping off every piece of clothing and standing bare before your boyfriend. The way his eyes followed the curves of your body made you shiver, but you didn't dare try to cover yourself. He hated not being able to see all of you. You felt his eyes all over, and soon your chill turned to heat.

Yunho patted your spot on the couch beside him, taking your hand as you sat and guiding you to lay against the cushions piled at the end. "Lay back and spread your legs for me."

Gasping at his command, you slowly parted your thighs, letting him peek at your slit. It was actually difficult to open your legs for him, the air felt so cold compared to your hot pussy, but Yunho was impatient and did it himself. Gripping your knees and forcing them apart, he groaned as you whimpered at his roughness.

Watching his eyes darken as he took in your wetness made you squirm. Eyes lowering as he shifted, and you noticed the outline of his cock, already straining against his pants.

"Let me give you some advice baby," the tone of his voice made you catch his gaze, and he looked so serious leaning over you. "It's better to communicate your feelings instead of bottling them up. I don't like it when my girl is a brat."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Flushing hotly with embarrassment, you hid your face with your hands.

"Shh, it's okay. Trust me baby, I'm not interested. Now I'm gonna give you what you need." He leaned into the couch, finding a comfortable position as you waited with a pounding heart, peering though your fingers.

When he looked satisfied, his eyes locked with yours as he smiled insidiously. "You wanted my attention so badly, now you have it. Daddy wants you to touch yourself. I want to see you feel good."

Dragging your hands down, skimming your fingertips over your boobs, light enough to raise goosebumps and perk your nipples. Closing your eyes, you tugged at your nipples, panting as you felt Yunho's stare. You could hear him inhale sharply as you keened, loving that he was so focused even without seeing him.

It made you hot, your legs shaking slightly with anticipation as your fingers smoothed over your stomach, feeling the textured portions of skin that he loved to kiss before eating your pussy. Such thoughts made you realize your need, and you rushed to find your clit, but he held you back with a firm grip.

"Are you feeling that hot, pretty girl? Need to rub your clit already?" He waited for your nod of confirmation, even though your answer was obvious. "I'll let you, but brats need to listen to instructions."

Letting go of your wrist, you gently touched your finger tip to your soaked folds, the heat nearly burning your skin. As soon as you found your clit, Yunho gave his first order.

"Circle your clit baby―gently, slowly" You followed his command, listening as he told you to go slower and slower until you were touching yourself at a torturous pace.

Your thighs were quaking with effort, half from holding them wide and half from resisting the urge to disobey. You needed to cum, badly. Feeling Yunho's eyes on you like this and seeing his face contort with desire as his hard mask slipped for a second made your heart skip a beat and made you cry out. "Please Daddy, I wanna cum, I have to cum."

"Stop, not yet. Daddy still has so much special attention to give you. It's only for you baby, never for anyone else." Snatching your wrist again, he pulled your hand from between your legs, making your cunt ache with the loss.

Before you could breathe you felt two of his fingers prodding at your entrance, the wet sounds almost echoing in your ears as you clenched at the contact. Without warning, he buried his long fingers into your cunt, groaning as he felt you flutter around him, almost tipping you over the edge.

"Please, ah! ― Daddy I'm gonna―" you were so close, your body tensing even as you heard Yunho telling you no, but he was rubbing that gummy spot deep inside.

It was too much. You felt the snap, pussy squeezing his fingers tightly as you cried out with your release. Withdrawing his drenched fingers, Yunho tsked at your shaking body, disappointed in your behaviour. "Jealously makes you into such a brat."

He sat up onto his knees between yours, fingers undoing his belt, then his button, and finally inched down his zipper, almost as slowly as he made you touch yourself. Pulling his cock free, you took in his swollen length and red tip dripping precum. He dick was rock hard as it bumped against your pussy, searing hot on your sensitive slit.

A rough thrust had his cock spearing you, the stretch too much for you to handle as you whined loudly, but Yunho ignored you, not stopping until his hips were flush with yours, finally giving you time to adjust and prolong his teasing.

"There's no way I'm interested in her. Not when I have you baby, my little slut. Disobedient brat." Tugging his shirt over his head, he leaned down, his lips connecting with yours as his fingers dug into your soft waist, applying a bit too much pressure.

The buzz of his phone split startled you, the screen lighting up to show her calling, making you pout once again. He reached for the phone, picking it up and moving to turn it off, before smiling devilishly at you and wiggling it over your head.

"Should I pick up? I'm sure once she hears you crying for me to fuck you she'll get the hint." You had never been into exhibitionism but that made your breathing hitch and your pussy clench around Yunho as you said no, hard enough to make him grunt.

"Oh, my pretty girl is so dirty. Does that turn you on? Imagining her listening to me making you feel good―oh, fuck it does, I can feel it. Fuck, you're such a slut, my attention isn't enough, you still need more."

Dropping his phone to hold your hips, he thrust his cock into you harshly, like he was teaching you a lesson. Hard and intense, he had your eyes rolling backwards and your legs pushed up, letting him angle his cock to perfectly hit that spot that made you melt.

You were wailing as you felt the knot tighten again, your pussy throbbing with the drag of his cock along your walls. Warning him that you were close, he fucked into you harder, the tip of his cock bruising against your cervix as he tormented you, his own orgasm building.

"That's it, is my slut gonna cum? Yeah? Come for Daddy, come on my cock." The rasp in his voice did things to your cunt, as you felt your orgasm wash over, leaving you shivering and tingly.

Pulling out, Yunho cursed as he jerked his thick cock over your abdomen, moaning as cum coated your stomach, flowing into the creases of your skin.

Resting his forehead on yours, you both tried to catch your breath, and you were almost successful until you heard a muted voice calling out.

"Hello? Yunho? What's going on?"

#curvywrites #curvy reader #curvy!reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #atz yunho

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szkunas · 7 months ago

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SORRY, YOU LOST! ౨ৎㅤtoji fushiguro.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤokay, toji needs to admit it. you’re magical, or something because he genuinely intends to change for you, as stupid as that sounds. unfortunately, he decides to go out to gamble one last time. when he returns, his worst nightmare comes true.

featuring ♰ㅤREDEEMED toji fushigiro X fem!reader.

warnings ♱ㅤANGST ! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH ! no happy ending ! toji is a little ooc i guess ! BLOOD + DEATH ! assassination mentions ! violence + murder ! gambling addiction ! toji thinks about making you a housewife ! marriage mentions

author’s note ♱ㅤhi. im not dead, lol. just trying to post a lot of things together. i took a small time for myself, to rest, and now i think i can come back with writing with these posts and the event! <3 i hope you all like it, its my first time trying to write for toji

WHOEVER WAS THE IDIOT who invented pachinko, toji hates them deeply. it was probably some very bored and very greedy man. the world will become a better place when those tired, money-crazy expressions disappear. until then, pachinko machines and gambling games will squeeze every penny out of him. or not. no more.

there is a clear reason why some countries strongly prohibit betting shops and casinos: betting is one of the strongest addictions that runs through the sick and desperate, emptying them of their worries for a few seconds and taking the money from their wallets in exchange.

technically, gambling is prohibited both in japan and in many other places around the world: but pachinko, horse racing and speedboat racing, as well as casinos, exist through loopholes in the law. after all, everyone’s true god is money, and taking all of this off the market would shake the economy of the country that seems forgotten by any god in the eyes of toji.

he knows that spending a lot of money on bets is not the wisest decision to make, but he always has faith that he will win next time, when the next time never comes. however, he only has a percentage of his latest work. the rest was well sent where it would be safe: to you, who keeps the money safe and secure from a murderer addicted to gambling.

toji knows you want a lot. you want him to give up his life as the sorcerer killer, you want him to give up his stupid gambling habit, you want to settle down somewhere quiet and start a family. and he wants that too, even if his heart of stone doesn’t let him show it.

but, he hopes you understand that the mere fact that he lets you sleep next to him at night is a sign of trust. he trusts you not to open his throat with a knife while he sleeps, which says a lot about how he feels about you.

even though your relationship has lasted a long time by his standards, what scares toji is the fact that he doesn’t want to leave. he wants to stay, he wants to come back to you at the end of each mission. he wants to let you take care of his wounds, and he wants to dry your tears when you cry for him. in fact, he doesn’t even want you to cry unless it’s from happiness or pleasure.

which is strange.

he only knew love for one woman, and after her passing, he believed he would never again fall in love with anything other than the green notes that create his happiness and destroy his present simultaneously.

a dead wife and an abandoned child on his resume is not what any woman is looking for in a guy. his difficult personality, his history of lack of commitment, his disappearances for days and his addiction to gambling only make everything worse for him. women are drawn to toji like fish to a hook, but they don’t stay long. it lasts even less if they don’t have money or cut off this source of income from his life.

but when he hears the sounds and clicks of the surrounding machines, he can only think that he would stay with you even if you were living on an old mattress in a dark alley.

because love can be as intimidating as it is overwhelming. it can hit a man’s world with such force that it makes him rise from where he is. make him stop making bad choices and, little by little, improve to give you the life that the woman he loves wants. he looks at the nearest clock and sighs. one last game. one last time, he will spend some stupid change waiting for a prize that never comes.

and from there, who knows? and from there, who knows? stop this idiocy of gambling every last penny, work a little more so you can get by for a few months. maybe start a savings account so when you have kids things will be easier?

he waits, and stops. so many times he has seen the message of defeat on machines similar and different to this one. sorry, you lost. the most common phrase for someone who appreciates dopamine more than money in their pockets. but he is surprised when the winning pattern appears on the machine. a winning one.

toji immediately turns to an employee. okay, that was weird. he usually loses any and all bets. this is probably a sign that this is the right path. who knew, the advice of morally sensible people works. don’t use drugs (they don’t work in his system), don’t overindulge in alcohol (which also doesn’t do anything in his system), be responsible and have a stable job. he just needs to review what he achieves in that last part. sorcerer slaying is not exactly a stable job, which every wife dreams of having a husband working with.

wait, did he just mentally call you his wife? take it easy, clown. first, you have to get past your fifth dating anniversary.

but the idea is undeniably attractive. maybe if he gets some good, well-paying work beyond assassination, you can become a housewife. only if you want, of course. toji will drop dead before he forces you to do something you don’t want to do.

the idea is a little cute — really cute, actually. he loves seeing you coming home from work stressed. seeing you angry makes him strangely excited. it’s like getting turned on by playing with fire, and he just wants to make the flames burn hotter. however, he knows how to respect his space when things get serious. that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want you in an office job.

reduced to a sad cubicle, an idiotic boss and customers as miserable as you, anxious for the time to leave or for him to pick you up. this is not the life he wants for you. okay, toji needs his own fucking car to pick you up from work. this goes on the list of what to start buying to have a responsible life.

as he changes the balls in the pachinko machine, he watches the prizes carefully. normally, it’s just junk that you sell in a random store to make real money. but there is a kind of golden pendant, a butterfly. he asks the employee and takes the item in his hands. he’s a bit of a muggle and extremely cheesy, in his vision, but it’s only fair that in his last bet, one of the few ones he wins, the prize goes to you.

you, the true angel that exists on earth. you, patient and caring, who accept his mistakes and didn’t abandon him when he gave you a thousand and one reasons to do so. you, who he would like to see at the altar and have children with. fixing his own life and making his life better, that’s what he must do now. for you.

waving to the employee who is already used to his presence — after all, toji doesn’t plan on seeing him again — he puts the pendant in his pocket and walks peacefully home, lost in thought. some idiot bumps into him in a hurry, but he’s so strangely happy he can’t even stay mad.

the guy in question looks like he’s on something, with his hands in his pockets as if he’s hiding a weapon and his pupils dilated. His paranoid face is looking in all directions, and Toji knows that look — he’s trying to run from trouble. probably fucked it up and attacked someone. toji shrugs.

well, it’s not his problem.

he just takes out his cell phone and presses the call button on your contact. toji wants to go directly home, but if you want some food or some other gift, he would like to know now. your profile picture is actually adorable, and he caught himself just a moment before smiling like a fool.

the nighttime streets of tokyo don’t stop as he presses the phone to his ear. cars go too fast, and night lights make the city seem more alive at night than in daylight. two rings, three. you don’t answer, and toji groans, checking the time before waiting a little longer. it is weird. usually you are the one who calls, or you are the one who answers almost immediately. and it’s too early, so you can’t be sleeping.

maybe you forgot your cell phone at home and went out to get something you forgot at the office. it would be just like you. he can already hear himself teasing you. airhead. he gives up calling when there is no answer after four tries. he doesn't want to look desperate.

his steps are lazy, light. he’s gotten used to walking quietly due to his line of work, but toji has his chest puffed out like someone who knows what he wants in life. this is a new and at the same time well-known occurrence. his second chance just fell into toji’s lap. not all men are that lucky. and he doesn’t intend to waste it, risk everything and lose everything again.

may his past have taught him the valuable lesson of staying close and protecting those you love.

that’s why, when he turns down the street and stops in front of your house (which has also been his house for almost two years), he freezes. there are some police cars parked in front of the door. okay, maybe some idiot tried to rob the house. are you okay? the idea of you getting hurt makes his blood boil.

but his heart sinks like a crushed animal when he sees the ambulance present. no. what the fuck is going on? he quickens his pace, not caring about the yellow tapes — oh, god, there shouldn’t be yellow ribbons. not here. not in your home, not in the safest and happiest place in the world. do not cross slaps him in the face, making his heartbeat increase. is that fear, in the back of his head?

he had goosebumps. not the good kind.

a police officer comes over to talk to him, explaining that he can’t be here, that this is a crime scene, sir. but toji is faster, his hand searching for the pendant he bought you through a stupid gambling game.

“sir, i’m going to have to ask you to leave—”

“this is my house, i live here with my girlfriend. what the fuck is going on?”

the police officer stops, as if he didn’t expect that kind of response. he checks something with another officer over the radio, and toji is about to punch everyone to go and look for you. what the hell is going on? he only left for three hours and about ten minutes. this shouldn’t be happening.

his green eyes stay focused on the ambulance, on the house that is being ransacked. your house, god, your wonderful house. he waits for you to come out from behind the ambulance, from one of the doors of the house, for you to come running and for him to hug you. but there is nothing like that. you don’t show up, and he suddenly feels like his throat is closing up.

the officer who owes him an explanation that keeps him calm and tells the truth at the same time — after all, a guy with the size of toji freaking out isn’t what anyone wants to face — gets his attention by gently clearing his throat. he looks like a newbie. excellent. you’re nowhere to be found, and toji is getting explanations from a damn newbie.

“you mentioned you live here with your girlfriend, sir—?” the man inquires, and toji crosses his arms, irritated. “can i ask where you were earlier tonight?”

“fushiguro. i’m fushiguro, yeah, and i live here for, two years now. i was out. buying stuff ‘nd all. why do you need to know?”

the officer sighs, his face sad. “you will need to make a statement later, mr. fushiguro. however, this doesn’t have to be immediately, we intend to respect your time with…”

“with?” toji grits his teeth, nearly snapping. “c’mon. i don’t have all night. where the hell is my girlfriend?”

there are some voices shouting instructions in the background, and toji doesn’t pay attention until something appears in the corner of his vision. he turns his face away more quickly than ever, giving the nervous policeman no time to warn him that he shouldn’t do that. and the sight before him makes him freeze.

the paramedics are zipping up a black bag and putting away the equipment they initially brought. toji is no stranger to blood and dead bodies—his body count is high in more ways than one—but he swears he’s never felt so sick. the butterfly pendant falls from his hands and clicks against the floor, with a slight *clink*.

it’s your body. they are putting your body inside a black bag. god, he only got a glimpse, a second, but he’s sure it’s you. pale, motionless. declared dead.

you, dead.

bile rises up his throat thinking about a million things. If he had arrived earlier, could he have helped? he definitely wouldn’t let that happen, what took him so long with the pachinko machine? Was this random, was this chosen? did they kill you because of him, because of him and his stupid career?

he wonders if you suffered. god, the thought of you scared and screaming as you fight to defend yourself makes toji almost go insane immediately. this is— real. and it is not a nightmare, where he’ll wake up besides you, on the bed. you would smile and comfort him out of his scared thoughts. but no. you won’t ever smile anymore.

never again.

he is so out of it for a moment, it’s as if nothing else exists. his ears won’t stop ringing, and it’s like his head is going to melt at any second. he turns to face the officer, who has been trying to get his attention for apparently five minutes.

“we’re sorry, mr. fushiguro. there was a complaint from the neighbors. we’re still not sure what happened, but it was certainly a homicide. maybe random. as it turned out, someone broke into the house and—”

“murdered my girlfriend.” he completes, his hands clenching into fists. toji excuses himself — and the poor officer can see the pain he’s trying to hide with anger.

he’ll probably get called out for a dozen things. identify your body. give a statement, be ruled out as a suspect, god. like he would even touch you like that. the idea is so disgusting he can’t even process it. but it does not matter. it does not matter anymore. his new, peaceful life? fuck that. you are dead.

and so is his heart. again.

toji walks away from the prying ears of the police, and he hates the fact that his hands are shaking as he calls shiu. and old friend and trustful dealer, he needs to ask two things.

“hey, shiu. when you hear this, give me a call as soon as you can. i am serious. i need another job, as quickly as possible, also.” he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking deep, angry breaths. “i need to ask a personal favor. investigate something for me, and i want the name and address of every person involved. alright?”

he wonders what will he use when he finds whoever did this. a gun? a knife? it doesn’t matter, nothing matters anymore. he steps on the butterfly pendant as he stares at the sky and wishes for blood to pay for yours being spilled.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. THANK YOU FOR READING <3

#kirell. kills .ᐟ #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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