#he puts himself between her and the possible blast | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grugruel · 1 year ago

Text

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr smut #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic

2K notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 1 year ago

Note

HIYA GORGEOUS!! I absolutely adore all that you write and here I am once again to request something (tbh I’ll always be here to request things 🤭). So I’d like to request…

y/n (aka me) is Elijah's best friend but she's never met Klaus, only heard about him. one day she surprises Eli for his birthday so she walks in the compound, not knowing that Klaus is there too. she and Elijah exchange hellos then talk for a bit and before they can leave (Elijah is subtly trying to rush her out), Klaus hears her voice and comes downstairs. I'll leave the details to you but she and Klaus instantly hit it off so much so that it makes Elijah jealous (he's always had a thing for y/n but never said anything be he's afraid of losing their friendship). again, leaving the details to you. can we make it a 2-parter? 1 is jealousy/angst w/ implied smut between y/n and Klaus & 2 is Elijah confessing to y/n his feelings which lead to their first time sex and possible future relationship.

Sorry love if this is too much, it's okay if you're not up for it though! Thanks for even indulging me! 🤍

Mine

THIS SCENE MAKES ME GO FERAL

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

A drunken hookup with Klaus complicates your friendship with Elijah, leading to an awkward morning after.

♡♡ Thanks for the request sweet Aurora!! This one was a blast to write. But implied smut with Klaus??? Nahhh. No half-measures here. This is for all my Klaus girlies. You can't fix him, but you sure can fuck him. ♡♡

5k words - Warnings: smutttt {with Klaus}, rough sex, mild choking, Klaus being the drama, Elijah hiding his feelings & Rebekah judging you.

{Part Two}

You came rushing through the gates of the compound, carrying so many shopping bags that you could barely see. Your arms felt on fire, but a little strain was worth it all when you remembered who you were doing this for.

Tonight was Elijah's big birthday bash, put together by you and Rebekah, and you wanted everything to be perfect. Elijah had become one of your closest friends, and this celebration was your chance to show him how much he meant to you.

"Eli, I have so much stuff for the party. Where should I put it all?" you ask once you got far enough into the house.

Elijah emerged from the grand living room and came into the foyer to help you. He had an odd look on his face, but you couldn't really pinpoint it exactly. He took the bags from your arms and carried them himself.

"Don't look in them! I want it to be a surprise!" You said, putting your hands over his eyes and guiding him towards the table.

Elijah chuckled, "Fine, Fine. Are you sure all of this is necessary?"

"Absolutely." you said, uncovering his eyes. "You only turn 1040 once," you joked, causing the pair of you to laugh.

It was over-the-top as shit, but a girl had to take any opportunity to give a Mikaelson a birthday they would remember, and then some.

Elijah's smile faltered a bit as he looked around the courtyard nervously. "Will you be returning home to get ready for tonight?" He asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

"I'm actually getting ready here with Bekah, why? Have a hot date you are hiding from me?" You teased, unaware of the way Elijah's body stilled at your words.

"Oh no darling, no date, just a brother he wants to hide," said an accented voice from the second level balcony.

Elijah let out a rough sigh as you turned to see Klaus stepping down the stairs towards you both.

You had heard of the legendary hybrid of course, but since you met Elijah you had yet to run into him. In fact, this was the first time you had seen Klaus in person and were unaware of the true look of him. Which made you almost go weak in the knees.

He was hot, like 'fuck me right now hot' and it took everything in you not to drool. It didn't surprise you, all the other Mikaelsons were extremely attractive, so it only stood to reason their infamous hybrid brother would be also.

You could tell by the look on his face he found you just as attractive, and with a devilish smirk, he seemed to say ‘I will fuck you right now if that's what you wish’

"Hello love, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he drawled before bringing your hand up and kissing it softly.

You wanted to hate him. Klaus had been notorious for so long for his tantrums and viciousness. But one look and just a touch from his lips and you knew you were doomed.

"T-Thanks," you said, pulling your hand back.

Klaus tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and ran a thumb across your cheek.

"Are you blushing for me? Can't say I blame you, love," he said cockily.

Elijah rolled his eyes at his younger brother's antics, but as Klaus lingered on your skin he felt a stir of possessiveness settle in his bones. He cleared his throat, shooting his brother a glare,

"I would love some help setting up the party for your brother," you asked Klaus, hoping to spend more time with him, his charm quite intriguing.

"It's alright, I can help you," Elijah insisted, not wanting Klaus to interact with you for a multitude of reasons.

"It's supposed to be a surprise for you Eli,” you pouted, which caused Elijah to soften at your cuteness.

"I've got it handled, Eli," Klaus teased, emphasizing the nickname you used for him.

Elijah looked between the two of you, clearly wanting to decline your request and keep you both apart. But alas, for some reason, he couldn't come up with a legitimate reason.

Klaus grabbed your bags and walked off, you began to follow, turning back to give Elijah a wide smile. "See you tonight, birthday boy," you exclaimed happily before hurrying off after the younger Mikaelson.

You spent all afternoon decorating with Klaus, who insisted you call him Nik. He was somewhat sweet but full of himself. Yet, you enjoyed his company, he had a good eye for décor and matched your vision effortlessly.

"Have I accomplished my mission?" he asked. He brought a champagne bottle up, pouring two glasses and giving you one.

You leaned against the pillar with him and clinked your drinks together. "I'd say so, yes. Thank you so much for helping me."

"It was no trouble at all," Klaus said, then smirked at you over his glass. "You are quite stunning, love."

You grinned at his comment, "you should see me after I get all dressed up for tonight," you flirted, even though it sounded more like a challenge to him.

Klaus downed his drink then placed it on the table. Without warning, he pinned you to the pillar and trapped you against him. "Oh I plan on doing more than looking tonight," he said as his hungry eyes traveled over your body.

"I see you two have finally met, how wonderful," Rebekah commented, disrupting the moment.

You laughed nervously, glad for the interruption, gently pushing Klaus off of you. As much as you wanted to jump Klaus then and there, something held you back. And you knew what, or rather, who was keeping you from acting on your desires...

"We were just having some champagne," you tell her, taking another drink.

"I see that, the decorations look amazing by the way," she complimented as she poured herself a glass as well. "Catering has arrived, they are setting everything up downstairs," she informed you, letting you know you should probably get ready.

"I'll go get dressed then. Thank you again, Nik." You smiled at him again, and he grinned in response.

"I think I'm owed a dance for my hard work," he told you as you walked away with Rebekah.

You looked over your shoulder at him and gave him a wink, excited for the party to begin.

Once you were upstairs and away from Klaus, Rebekah spoke quietly to you. "Be careful with him, he's not like Elijah," she warned you.

"No one is like Elijah," you chuckled a bit, ignoring the pang of sadness you felt at the realization you would probably never be with the older Mikaelson.

The two of you spent your time getting ready, sipping on champagne and discussing the numerous guests who would be arriving. You got a little too buzzed, but you were excited and also needed some courage to face an unknown quantity of vampires.

Rebekah always had impeccable taste, helping you pick out a skin tight dress that came a few inches above your knees and accentuated every curve on your body. Adding even more with the tall black heels you slipped on, showing off your legs.

"I'm afraid I might have gone too far," Rebekah chuckled as she applied your makeup, making you look smolderingly hot.

"You think?" You asked sarcastically.

"You look like vampire bait and I'm sure it's going to drive him mad," she snorted, taking another drink.

"Who?" You looked at yourself in the mirror and fixed a smudge of lipstick.

Rebekah gave you a knowing look, but stayed quiet and you just smiled back at her innocently.

When everything was ready and all the guests started arriving, you and Rebekah made a grand entrance into the main parlor. Elijah was talking with someone when his eyes caught you across the room, you wandered over to him and gave him a big hug.

"Happy birthday," you whispered in his ear, as his arms pulled you tighter to him.

"Thank you so much," he said, pulling back just enough to smile at you, his face growing even brighter when he really looked at you.

You noticed the way his eyes traced your figure, taking you all in. The way they darkened a bit with pure desire, making you instantly become hot all over. But it was probably just your imagination, brought on by all the champagne you've been drinking.

You almost made a move right then, but the person he was conversing with interrupted and you found yourself drawn away by Bekah and her friends. Leaving Elijah to watch you from afar as you conversed with them, laughing and drinking.

Hours later, you were still in the middle of the large group of people, even dancing to the music that was blaring through the place. You saw Elijah dancing with a beautiful woman and you wanted to be happy for him, but then the woman whispered in his ear and touched his chest, and your mood immediately soured.

You went to the bar to get a drink, deciding more alcohol might be what you needed to wash away all your confused feelings.

"Thirsty, love?" Asked a familiar voice in your ear as your body was pulled back to collide with a strong chest. You could smell the scent of Klaus's cologne and instantly felt turned on.

"Very," you said, downing your entire shot.

He spun you around to look into your eyes, both of his hands on your waist, drinking in your appearance.

"You didn't have to do all this for me," Klaus teased, his eyes on your chest as he licked his lips. "I'm a sure thing, darling, you know that,"

You couldn't help but laugh. He may have been a lot of things, but he was definitely entertaining. You shook your head, but smiled all the same.

"I only ever dress up for myself, Nik," you sassed back to him, looking up through your lashes.

A slow smirk came to Klaus's face as he leaned in and captured your lips in his. He hummed into the kiss and his grip tightened on you. He pulled away, your lipstick was still on his lips.

You giggled and wiped it off, as he ordered you another drink. Not that you really wanted one but damn, he was good at persuading people.

"I recall that you owe me a dance," he reminded you, taking a sip of his own beverage.

"Oh?" You said innocently, fiddling with the many necklaces he was wearing. "I don't remember agreeing to anything," you flirted.

"Well, perhaps a private dance then," he teased, giving you a mischievous smile.

"Maybe I'll surprise you later," you whispered, leaning in and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and playfully biting it, loving the look of surprise and arousal on his face.

Then you turned and sauntered away, leaving him standing there at the bar to watch you. You were definitely going to end up in his bed tonight, but you wanted to make him squirm a little. Or rather, a lot.

You moved through the crowd to see Elijah and the woman dancing close, whispering things to each other. Well, actually, only she was talking. He seemed like he wasn't paying too much attention to the conversation she was having with him.

You gave him a wave and a smile, pointing at the woman and giving him an encouraging thumbs up. You don't know why you did it. Your chest did funny things seeing him with someone else though.

He returned your smile but didn't do much else before she spoke in his ear again and he allowed her to lead him out of the crowd.

You guessed Elijah was tired of his own party and went off to have some fun, and you were determined to have the same.

Klaus found you sitting on the couch, a cocktail and a plate of various snacks in front of you. You were thoroughly bored as you couldn't find him again.

He came from behind and crashed beside you, taking the glass out of your hand and finishing it, then set it aside.

"Hey! That was mine," you scolded playfully.

Klaus put his arm around you and kissed your neck. "How about you stop pretending you're enjoying yourself and come upstairs with me?" He suggested.

You laughed, and then he abruptly pulled you up and practically carried you through the door leading upstairs, pinning you to the wall at the top of the steps.

"Nik," you tried to say while laughing. "You can't just haul me off and have your way with me," you protested as his lips got closer to yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he taunted, bringing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, everything moving so fast. Klaus didn't even give you a chance to respond, lifting you so your legs wrapped around him.

He walked into a room and shut the door, setting you down on his desk. You realized that you were in his infamous art studio, looking around as Klaus hovered over you. You felt his lips on your neck, kissing every inch until you moaned.

Then he found the tiny zipper of your dress and slid it down, exposing your breasts. He smirked, reaching to tweak your nipple as he took you in. "Well then, love. Now I truly see why my brother has hidden you from me," he said huskily.

You giggled at his compliment but then you couldn't form words as he yanked the rest of your dress off you. You sat on the desk naked, save for your heels and nothing else.

"Dear lord, you are gorgeous," Klaus muttered, touching you everywhere.

You pulled him close by his shirt collar and locked lips. You bit his bottom lip harshly and he growled, his eyes flashing gold. The way his eyes changed on you was the hottest thing you've seen.

You pulled his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor before unbuckling his belt, wanting him as naked as you were. Once you had him bare, you raked your nails down his chest and he chuckled.

"You want to play rough, don’t you love?" He whispered as he nipped at your neck.

"Maybe," you teased, "what are you going to do about it?" You questioned, leaning back on the desk a little and spreading your legs for him, getting wet at the promise of a wild night.

Klaus's breath hitched when you touched yourself for him, his eyes completely transfixed on you. He was definitely intrigued by how confident you were.

"Well then," he growled before he roughly pinned your legs open, his hands squeezing your thighs harshly. He brought your body to the edge of the desk, kneeling in front of you as he ran a thumb over your dripping wet center.

He hummed at your scent as he pulled you forward a bit more to devour you, making you yelp in surprise, your hands tugging on his curls.

He was good, really good, and your toes curled at the pleasure you were receiving. It only got better when you saw his golden eyes as he gazed at you with a possessive glint, the vibrations from his own groans of enjoyment hitting you just right.

But before you could climax he pulled back and stood up, making you whimper and sit up on the desk, wanting him to continue.

Klaus chuckled at your impatience, pulling you into another searing kiss as you moaned. He broke it and gave you a smug smile, before wrapping his hand around your throat.

You were panting with need, your hand moving down to his cock and he hissed at your touch. He moved forward so he was resting between your thighs again as you stroked him slowly.

You both stayed this way for a moment, staring at each other. Until finally Klaus couldn't stand it any longer and roughly turned you around to face the desk. He pushed on your back until you were bent over on the wood, making you giggle with anticipation.

He smacked your ass hard, turning your giggle into a gasp as you looked back at him. He did it again and again until it was stinging. You wanted him so badly, it was unbearable.

You reached back for him and he lined up his cock to your entrance, sliding it up and down a few times until you were nearly shaking. He finally gave in and pushed into you, his hand tugging your hair until you arched into him, and he sank into the hilt.

He hissed at the sensation and you were about to tell him to move but he started fucking you without you needing to, hard and rough and perfect. He had you moaning with each thrust as you grabbed onto the desk, holding on tight as his body collided with yours, skin slapping as you got closer to climaxing.

It was hot and a little dirty, just what you had needed. Your moans only spurred him on as his hands explored your body while he took you from behind. The force of his thrusts causing items on his desk to clatter to the floor, but you both were far too gone to care.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you back into him, making you stand so his other hand could roam your front. He moved up to massage your breast while pinching and tugging on your nipple until you moaned. He was clearly determined to make you come first and was going to enjoy doing it.

"Nik!" you whined his name when he pinched you a bit too harshly. You felt his lips on your neck, his fangs grazing the skin as he left hickeys.

You tilted your head for him and he smirked, licking your pulse point and gently nibbling. His thrusting becoming erratic as his hand slipped to your clit to rub fast circles until your legs started trembling and you let out a scream as your orgasm crashed into you.

He hummed in approval and thrust into you a few more times before you felt him filling you up with his cum, and you giggled from the sensation. He released you from his grasp and you leaned back down on the desk, turning around to face him.

You both were sweaty and exhausted but extremely satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, placing soft kisses all over your face as you giggled again, trying to move away from him.

He grabbed your dress and handed it to you before slipping on his pants, leaving his shirt off. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and then turned away, starting to pick up the fallen objects from his desk and placing them in their correct places.

You watched him in a daze, your body tingling as you pulled your dress back on.

"So, love, my room is right next door, if you care to continue our celebration?" He said with a smug smirk, giving you a wink.

You giggled again and nodded, knowing it was probably the alcohol giving you your confidence, but you were going to ride the wave (and him) until the end.

Klaus woke to find you peacefully asleep in his bed. He leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead as you stirred slightly.

It was quite a night.

He took his time to admire your body and then your beautiful face. The way your eyelashes brushed your cheekbones as you slept, and your lips were parted slightly.

He got out of bed and got dressed, heading downstairs to find some blood and coffee. Elijah was in the kitchen reading his morning paper and looking every bit as dignified as always.

Klaus poured himself some coffee and started drinking it. He glanced around and saw there was no one else there but his brother, and he was smirking before he even opened his mouth.

"How was your night, Elijah?" He asked teasingly.

Elijah took his time to respond. He folded his paper up, placing it beside him as he eyed his younger brother suspiciously, he always had an innate sense to when Klaus was up to something.

"Quite fine. Why do you ask?"

Klaus's smirk grew bigger. He didn't say anything else and went about making himself something to eat. He felt Elijah's eyes boring into him the whole time, knowing that he wanted an answer but Klaus wouldn't give it to him just yet. He just loved torturing his big brother, even after a thousand years it was still highly entertaining.

"Your friend is an excellent host," Klaus started off with, his back turned as he chopped some fruit to put into a smoothie. He could almost hear the wheels turning in Elijah's mind as he tried to figure out where Klaus was going with this. "You really should have introduced me to her sooner."

Elijah sighed heavily. Klaus glanced behind him, and he had an annoyed expression on his face. He wasn't getting anything from Elijah so he turned to face him, his smirk returning.

"I showed her how much I appreciated her hard work last night. Several times actually, in my studio, a few times in my bed and then in the shower," he added as his smirk got wider and his tone became suggestive. "I dare say I've never been ridden so spectacularly before in all my years,"

Elijah abruptly stood, opening his mouth to say something, but that's when Klaus turned on the blender. Looking at Elijah apologetically and holding a finger to his ear and shrugging his shoulders.

"What's the matter brother?" he shouted over the blender. "You look a bit upset. You know it's not very healthy to bottle up all of your feelings,"

He stopped the blender and poured himself a glass, then another for Elijah as he handed it to him. Elijah just glared at him and poured the smoothie down the drain, setting the glass in the sink.

"That's rather rude, Elijah," he scolded teasingly. "I made that just for you,"

"Have you no shame, Niklaus?" He asked harshly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Noooo, shame is for boring people," he taunted. "Why are you so upset? Aren't you happy for your friend? I can assure you that she enjoyed herself immensely,”

Elijah snapped. He couldn't take anymore. He walked over and grabbed Klaus by the shirt collar, and shoved him against the wall roughly, holding him in place.

"You know how I feel about her and yet you slept with her anyway," Elijah seethed.

Klaus raised his eyebrow. "If you want her, then you should of taken her yourself," he snapped, his eyes flashing gold in challenge. "It's your loss anyway," he added, shoving him back and adjusting his collar, then smoothing out his shirt.

Elijah was livid. He knew it was just Klaus's way of being obnoxious, but that didn't make it any easier to handle.

"I can't get the vision of her tits bouncing in my face out of my mind, Elijah," Klaus taunted him again. "Perhaps if you're lucky, you'll get to experience it for yourself," he said, brushing past his brother and walking away with a laugh.

You woke in Klaus' bed with a terrible hangover and an empty spot beside you. You sat up, your head spinning a bit as the memories of the night before came flooding back.

Oh God, you slept with Elijah's brother.

You covered your face in embarrassment. You got drunk, got laid and it was with the worst person you possibly could of picked.

Elijah was going to kill you. He's been protecting you from his brother and here you go, having sex with him in his bed. You could imagine how disappointed he was in you right now.

You quickly got dressed and made your way downstairs, needing some coffee and possibly a few pain pills to try and take the edge off your headache.

Klaus was walking away from the kitchen, a devious smirk on his face. When he saw you, his grin got even bigger, but he said nothing, just gave you a wink.

You turned red in embarrassment and dashed into the kitchen, finding Elijah sipping his morning coffee while reading his paper. He looked up when he saw you enter and then he folded the paper and placed it on the island.

"Morning," he started off in a professional tone. You hated how he sounded.

You grabbed a mug and poured the liquid into it. Elijah was silent as he waited for you to face him, and once you had taken a few sips, he was standing in front of you.

He pushed your hair off your neck and a flash of Klaus' mouth sucking and nibbling on you last night, appeared in your mind. You were definitely covered in marks and hickeys.

"I see you had fun," Elijah muttered, and you saw him look over your appearance, the slight smudged make-up, messy hair and rumpled dress from last night.

He wasn't usually one to judge someone else's life choices, but this was his brother and you. It seemed more personal.

You blushed and pushed your hair back over your shoulder, so his eyes would stop staring at your neck. You needed a cold shower or something, the entire night was still feeling extremely vivid.

"Look Elijah, I'm so sorry, he just caught me at the right moment and I got a little drunk and..." you trailed off, taking a drink of coffee to calm your nerves. You really didn't have any good excuse to give him.

"It's alright, you can be with whoever you choose," Elijah stated in a collected tone.

You frowned and saw him adjusting his cuff-links. A sure sign he was upset. He always did that when he was angry or hiding what he was truly feeling.

"It was just a one time thing," you added, but you felt like he wasn't listening to you anymore.

Elijah was acting strange. Sure he could be an enigma sometimes, but this was different. He looked determined but a little annoyed, and you weren't quite sure how to read the situation. You decided to steer the conversation away from Klaus and what had happened between you two.

"How was your night?" You finally thought to ask. "I saw you leave with a woman, you looked like you were having fun," you said it teasingly, hoping it would lighten up the mood.

But now it was his turn to blush.

"Fine, really. It was fine," he muttered, fixing the already perfect knot in his tie. Now that was definitely something. Elijah rarely ever got tongue tied. "We kissed and I walked her home," he added, his lips pressing together in a firm line.

"That's all? You didn't...well, you know?" You questioned hesitantly.

"One night stands aren't my forte," he replied, giving you a soft smile. "When I take a woman to bed, I make her mine," his words were possessive and he hadn't taken his eyes off you.

The two of you weren't the kind of friends who discussed your sex life with each other. So when he said this, your cheeks turned hot and your imagination went wild. The idea of him holding you down and having his wicked way with you was something you were definitely interested in.

You both were staring at each other, the tension growing by the second. Then you looked away, you couldn't possibly fuck another Mikaelson in the same twelve hour period. Besides, Elijah meant far more to you than Klaus ever could. Sex with him would probably lead you somewhere complicated, and you didn't want to ruin what you had right now.

The situation was way too weird.

"Do you want to hang out tomorrow?" You decided to ask, breaking the silence and steering the conversation away from sex. You just wanted to spend some time with him. "Maybe come up to my place? I don't work the next two days," you added, hopeful he would agree to spend time with you, even though he always did, but this time you felt more nervous about it.

It would help things get back to normal, as normal as they could be after what happened with Klaus.

"Sure, Klaus and Rebekah won't be home tomorrow if you would like to come over here instead?" He suggested, your eyes meeting his again.

He had such an intense way of staring into your eyes, that it almost felt like he was looking into your soul.

"Well, it's your birthday so whatever you would like to do," you stated, giving him a sweet smile.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the moment. You grabbed it from your purse and opened the new text from Klaus:

- I'm available if you ever need something to ride again.

You quickly put down your phone, forgetting you had given him your number. You decided you were going to ignore it. There was no way you were going there again.

Elijah looked curious but didn't press.

"I better go home," you said, finishing your coffee and putting it in the sink.

"See you tomorrow," he replied, stepping closer and giving you gentle kiss on the cheek.

You said bye to him and walked out of the kitchen to the courtyard where Rebekah and Klaus were arguing. They both looked over at you, their argument stopping when they noticed you.

"Hello darling," Klaus greeted, his eyes raking over you. Flashes of your evening together running through your mind, and you quickly looked away from him.

Rebekah looked between the two of you and you could see her trying to figure it out, her eyes widening as she stared at you. You quickly hurried out of the compound before either of them could say another word.

{Part Two}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog

480 notes · View notes

spectral-phases · 2 months ago

Text

The Night Blüdhaven Exploded

I don't see enough people talking about what the Chemo attack on Blüdhaven must have done, as just everything was going wrong for Bruce and his boys that night.

For starters, Bruce is already fighting his dead/ressurected son who came back as a crime-lord villain who has been blowing up so, so many goons/criminals in Gotham for a while.

Then he sees Blüdhaven explode in front of his very eyes, and Jason then taunts Bruce, saying that Dick must be dead and insists on forcing Bruce to choose between killing Jason and killing the Joker not 2 minutes later. Bruce, as we all know, refuses to allow either, and stops Jason with a Batarang to the neck/shoulder, depending on your angst factor (or possibly aiming for Joker, but Joker moves and gets it to hit Jason on purpose/by accident ymmv).

(Batman 1940 #650)

And then, after all of that, the Joker sets off some explosives, surely killing Jason/the Joker (This makes the second explosion the Joker is going to no-clip his way out of, and Jason's learned that skill this time as well)

(Batman 1940 #650)

But wait! There's more! I know in the Batman comic they only mention Bruce being concerned for Dick, but Tim was living in Blüdhaven at the time too! Tim was fresh off of his father/girlfriend dying and didn't want to be adopted by Bruce, so he invented a fake Uncle Eddie (hiring an actor to play the role) and moved to Blüdhaven, where his comatose step-mother was being treated. Tim is only out of the city at the time of the explosion because the Titans came and said something was wrong with Conner, so they needed to leave to help save him. On their way out of the city in their jet, they only get far enough to avoid the blast, but not far enough that they avoid the resulting shockwaves as it renders their navigational systems offline, and likely their comms too. So not far enough that Bruce, who has been chasing Jason and Black Mask all night, could reasonably be aware of this fact.

(Robin 1993 #147)

So Dick and Tim very well could have been in that explosion and then Jason gets exploded! Amazing! That's 3 for 3 remaining Robins possibly killed in an explosion in one single hour.

We have no idea where Jason gets to, but we'll assume that he is unable to find the body because of the new no-clipping into the backrooms skill Jason must have (Jason was meant to die here, again. In another explosion set off by the Joker, so Bruce will have to assume Jason is dead even if he turns up alive later. How? Who the fuck knows).

Speaking of ol' Richard "Dick" Grayson, aka Nightwing, how is old boy wonder doing? Well, he's been having a rough go of it the past six months, between Blockbuster targeting him and destroying everything he cares about, Tarantula killing Blockbuster after successfully convincing him to just let her kill Blockbuster (while he walks away and has a panic attack...and...other things happen...TW: SA if you look it up), and then basically playing "suicide by cop" through the job following that and being a double agent of the group that just nuked Blüdhaven, uh...he is straight-up not having a good time by the time Chemo blows up Blüdhaven, and he's only getting worse. He tries to go to the center of the explosion, and Superman, fortunately, arrives on the scene to save Nightwing and put him up on the shelf to avoid dying (I love how Superman keeps trying to save Nightwing from himself in this era and Nightwing is just...no, thank you).

(Nightwing 1996 #116)

Unfortunately, this is the "Flying Grayson" himself, so no shelf is high enough to prevent Dick from going in there, and his mental state is so bad that certain death while saving others is probably more tempting to him at the moment than a deterrent. He "Duly Noted"s his way back into Blüdhaven, helps get the police to control the panicking crowds of survivors towards an escape route, saves the few remaining friends Blockbuster didn't kill recently, and goes directly into the most radioactive area of Blüdhaven to try and save some rouge who might have been there. We see Superman fighting Chemo's core in the background throughout his rescue attempts, so Dick's close the entire time to this heavy radiation. Dick notes that this is the first time he's able to breathe easy in months, saving people from the ruins. He's eventually taken out as a door explodes with the Chemo green gasses while trying to locate the rogue while reflecting on his recent failures.

(Nightwing 1996 #116)

I do think the appearance of Batman as Dick passes out isn't real, Bruce was in Gotham, either reeling from the explosion or looking for Jason or something. There's no way he got to Blüdhaven already, and the legs of Batman are hazy, blending into the smoke.

I also think after Chemo is stopped that Bruce probably still hasn't heard anything about Nightwing, because I don't imagine he took the time and resources to call the Veteran in a communications blackout (who has been historically trying to poach Batman's Robins, and nearly got Tim killed trying to convince Tim to leave Batman and join up his forces. Batman and the Veteran are not on good terms, is what I'm saying) just for Tim's step-mother and fake uncle.

(Robin 1993 #147)

By this time, he is talking about Tim as if he's alive, so he's probably gotten something from the Titans base confirming that Tim's alright, so he's gotta be taking the time and effort to call the Veteran for Dick.

Bruce, being Bruce, gets into a fight with Dick as soon as Dick is brought back to the Batcave and wakes up, while Dick is being treated for severe radiation poisoning/burns. I am willing to forgive this because he's had a time of it, even if he's being hostile and pissy and unsupportive. Definitely not winning the Father of the Year award for this, I'm afraid (Worst Father of the Year award is going to Deathstroke, for embedding a known radioactive carcingenic material into his daughter's eye, but Bruce is in the running for this and Jason).

(Nightwing 1996 #117)

I am awarding this to Bruce for trying to reassure Dick.

But. Anyway. Yeah.

Rough night for everyone involved. Absolutely everything going wrong all at once.

114 notes · View notes

reidintoit · 2 years ago

Text

cruel summer - j.m.

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: thigh riding supremacy

warnings: smut, language

an: more than happy to provide a part two :’))

wc: 1.4k

You were desperate. Completely and utterly desperate. And that was putting it lightly.

For the past hour or so, you had been sitting around the bonfire with the rest of the group on your boyfriend’s lap. While this usually isn’t a problem, tonight, JJ wouldn’t stop moving.

Each time his leg bounced up and down, you felt the stitching of your jean shorts brush against your core. At one point, you did your best to readjust but were immediately sliding back down as his leg continued to bounce relentlessly.

At first, you tried not to pay much attention to it, believing it was just JJ being restless. Which was probably true, but it quickly turned into something more.

“Ow!” Sarah exclaimed, jumping up from her chair and smacking her leg. “Fuckin’ mosquitos, I’m going inside!”

You hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation going on around you or the fact that it had gotten significantly darker out.

“I second that. These fuckers suck.” Kiara agreed, getting up to follow Sarah’s lead back into the house.

You glanced down at your legs, examining for any possible bites. You weren’t itchy, but even if you were, you weren’t confident that you’d have noticed. In fact, you had no clue what anyone had been talking about for the past hour.

“You guys coming?” John B asked, breaking the silence while throwing the last piece of firewood into the pit.

You looked back at JJ, who shook his head in response to John B without breaking eye contact with you.

As John B walked away, you started to get hot. Maybe it was the fire burning a bit higher or the fact JJ hadn’t stopped looking at you. Either way, you needed to get the hell out of dodge.

“I should.. probably go inside too. Bugs, yeah?” You struggled to form a proper sentence as you stood up.

“Y/N, wait.” JJ demanded, reaching out to grab your wrist, “Sit on me.”

“JJ, I have been sitting on you for the past-”

“No, I mean, take off your shorts and sit on me.. please?” He repeats himself.

You look down at JJ, who seemed to be completely serious about wanting this.

“J.. what about the others? They’re right inside.” You pleaded.

JJ glanced over at the Chateau, hearing nothing but Lizzo blasting from the speakers, then back at you. “I don’t believe they will hear a thing, darlin.”

You bite your lower lip, taking one last glance around before slowly unbuttoning your shorts. You allow them to fall onto the ground, stepping out and slipping your fingers on the sides of your bathing suit bottoms.

It’s obvious JJ noticed how ruined your bottoms are after rubbing against him for the past hour. The once pastel pink bottoms have a very prominent dark spot.

Suddenly, you feel your boyfriend’s fingers grazing the dark spot between your legs, getting a feel for just how wet you’ve been. “God damn..who’s got you like this?”

Instead of answering, you place your hands on JJ’s shoulders, sitting down on his thigh, and damn near gasping at the sudden contact.

JJ wastes no time slipping his fingers under your bottoms and pulling them to the side. “You’re soaked, baby,” he whispered, pushing his leg up into your bare pussy without warning and hearing a sharp moan escape your lips.

“You’re gonna ride my thigh until you cum, think you can handle that?” All you could do was nod in response at this point, feeling his hands fall to your sides.

“Words Y/N.” he demands.

“Yes, yes. Please.”

That was all JJ needed before gripping your sides and pulling your hips forward, encouraging you to move. You needed no further guidance, finding a pace that you knew was going to get you off quickly.

“JJ..” you whined softly.

He looked so incredibly hot like this. Watching you unravel on top of him had him painfully hard. He didn’t care about himself at this moment, just wanting to witness you use him.

“Such a slut, hm? Riding me out here..” he praised.

You whimpered in response, his words sending a flutter into your chest. The knot in your stomach tightened. You could feel your boyfriend’s intense stare as you fucked yourself on his thigh. You couldn’t focus on anything but how you felt. How slutty you felt at this moment. Sitting in your boyfriend's yard in your bathing suit top, grinding against his leg.

You rolled your hips against him, whining at the feeling of your clit against his thigh. Your pussy getting wetter and wetter with each roll of your hips. Your grip on JJ’s shirt tightened as you rocked against him, panting and incoherently mumbling.

You didn’t notice as he tore his eyes away from your face and down at his thigh. It was glistening from your arousal.

Your pace increased as you got closer, using your free hand to grip JJ’s arm.

“J - I - Please..” you whimpered, struggling to remain coherent as your hips grinded into him.

“Doing so well. Come for me, Y/N.”

You shake your head, “I- fuck, baby, baby,” not being able to finish that thought before waves of heat rush over you.

You practically collapse, burying your face into JJ’s shoulder as you ride out your orgasm. There was less friction as your cum coated his thigh, making each roll of your hips messier and slippery.

“JJ, JJ, mmph-“ You cry out as his leg suddenly bounces up into your clit.

“What baby? What’s wrong?” JJ asks, grinning from ear to ear. He’s incredibly proud of making you fall apart without touching you.

“Again… please?”

JJ leans back into his chair, hands making their way back to your thighs, gripping into your skin. You felt your face get hot as he continued to admire you.

“You want to get yourself off on me again?” You nod in response, leaning toward pressing your lips against his. A desperate attempt to get what you want. “Once more. Then you can fuck me.”

JJ looks past you, noticing no change in the volume of music from earlier. Whatever fun the pogues we’re having inside didn’t come close to this.

JJ’s grip on your thighs slowly moves up to your hips, “60 seconds,” he says as he leans forward to kiss you, “Go.”

You waste no time going back to the pace from before, failing to break the kiss. Your cum on his thigh was the perfect substitute for lube.

You feel JJ kiss you, taking in your bottom lip and gently biting as you whine into his mouth. Your eyes remain sewn shut as your head is up in the clouds. You weren’t going to last long again.

“15..” he reminded you.

It took one last roll as JJ jumped his leg into you for you to cum. Your head rolled back as you came, crying out without a worry of getting caught out here.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! JJ, fuck me.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #jj obx #jj maybank blurb

1K notes · View notes

icarusredwings · 19 days ago

Text

Good boy

A sfw puppy logan fic

Pt 1

Pt 2

Pt 3 (1/2)

Pt 3 (2/2)

Pt 4

Art by me

Tw: mentions of abandonment issues, child abuse, blood, murder, guilt, voices, cursing, and overall truama.

Looking to the side, Wade sees Logan pushing his face against the window. His tongue is out and he's panting excitedly. Jumping in the back, he grabs his toy only to jump back up to the front.

Sympathetically, Wade rolled down the window just an inch or two, watching as Logan shoves his nose to it. His hands pull on the glass happily sniffing the air.

Wade's ambivalent small grin shifts to a frown, his brows furrowing as he looks back to the road, tightening his grip on the wheel.

This was it.

He was letting Logan go.

Letting him choose.

He wasn't made for apartment life. He wasn't like puppins who could live happily in a small area. He needed space. He needed a pack. He needed the woods.

A tear falls as he thinks about it.

The possibility of Logan never coming back.

It's something he's been thinking about for a few weeks. Ever since that day, when he first howled in front of him. Something didn't feel right about not giving him this choice.

Sure, he's taken Logan to the woods before, but always on a long line or a tracker on his collar. This time he wouldn't have his collar. He'd be free. Free to choose.

Was it selfish of Wade to hope he chose him?

Even if he knew city life wasn't for him, he wanted Logan to stay. To choose him.

Just this morning he decided better now than never. The longer he was here, the worse off he would probably feel knowing that all this time Logan would have chosen to go. Logan loved him. He knew this. It's why he didn't just go with his free will. He wanted.. No.. Needed.. Wade to let him go.

Logan had his blue collar on, his tags jingling as he laid in his large bed, happily gnawing on a femur that Wade had brought him home from work. There he was, content. Trying to dull his teeth on the bone, nipping what little tendon and cartilage was left between the patella and ball of the thigh bone.

Next to him, was the Deadpool plush that Wade had made him to help with his separation anxiety. Made from old suits and cotton stuffing.

He remembered when he wrapped it tight in a box for Christmas, letting Logan rip the cardboard and colored paper to shreds.

How his eyes brightened with stars, how he carried it between his teeth with such pride and joy, showing his gift to Mary multiple times, growling at her if she tried to touch it, though kept gesturing to her to observe.

He would come round, showing Wade several times too, wiggling with excitement.

Each time Wade would praise him, act shocked as if he himself didn't make the toy.

Wade gasps, smiling widely and petting him, not daring to touch the toy, leaning down to kiss his head. “What a pretty boy! Oh? Yes? I see you have a little me too, and you haven't even ripped his head off yet! What a good boy, Logan!”

Here, now, in the van, miles away from their home in New York.

Logan drops the toy into his lap, whimpering.

Wade swallows, sniffling as he licks the tear off his cheek.

“.. good boy, Logan..” he whispers, picking up the toy and putting it back in his mouth, watching in the corner of his eye as he shakes the toy, excited with aggression stimming from adoration of the toy. A small smile of pity appears as they stop at a red light.

It makes Wade think about the other day, when there were fireworks, sirens, a fire truck blasting from the.. well.. the fire the explosives made.

Logan had been so stressed out that he bit Wade. His hair was raised on the back of his neck, Face in the glass of the front window, growling and staring, stiff and still. He snarled at those that passed, only to yelp at the loud boom of fireworks from the top of their apartment building.

Wade came in after trying to get them to stop the fireworks, saying that they disturbed veterans like himself, having ended up threatening one of them, and shoving them off the building.

“Wolvie! I did it! They won't light any more fireworks, honey!” He says to him, coming to the bedroom in an attempt to comfort him.

“Pup? Did you hear me? No more booms oka- OW!”

Logan snapped, sinking his teeth into the warm flesh, the hot blood dripping down his chin and onto the carpet as Wade jerks the hand away.

He remembered the way he looked at him, lowering his head into a cower, Looking at him with such wide and apologetic eyes. The cosmos wish they were this deep. They dreamed to sparkle and be as wide as his pupils were. He wondered if Saturn was jealous of the thin white ring around the edge.

“Oh.. Logan. It's okay. You're still a good boy. My good boy.” He had told him, letting the man lick his blood clean from his hand, Simply saying sorry and trying to fix his mistakes..

Logan was always like that.. always fixing his mistakes. Well.. maybe this was a mistake. All of it. Maybe he should have never brought this Logan to live in the Big Apple. It was just cruel.

Cruel to expect so much from him. Cruel to force him to hide the animal within.

“Even cruel-er to force him to learn about taxes and unspoken social rules..” He mumbles to himself.

Next to him up front, Logan is sitting here, unknowingly about the destination deadline. He is just happy to be here, humble and holding the deadpool stuffy in his jaws with a big smile.

“.. you really love that guy.. don'tcha, wolvie?” Wade asks, somber and wistfully.

Logan's head tilts, staring at him with concern and worry.

“Nevermind.. don't worry babe, It's just conversation… I know you'd never replace me.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road as he drives. Another tear comes but Logan is too busy sniffing out the window to lick them away, making Wade have to wipe it himself.

I guess he would have to get used to this.. not having Logan around to kiss or cuddle his hurt away..

Swallowing, Wade looks at the button that opened the side door, hesitantly taking a deep breath before clicking it.

When they pull up, before Wade can even come to a stop, Logan is already scratching at the window, whining and jumping in the back, practically vibrating with excitement.

“..I Love You, Logan.” He admits, Sickly sweet.

Before the door is even fully opened, Logan bolts, taking off into the woods without even looking back to say goodbye.

No double take. No second glance.

He's gone.

Wade can hear his hands pad at the crisp and compacting snow, frozen leaves underneath. He hears him grunt and huff as he runs off, like escaping reality in the literal sense. By the time Logan is not visible, He had shut the van off, coming to sit inside the open door.

Letting out a big sigh, Tears were not such a good thing to keep stuck to his cheeks this long, especially not in the cold but… But Wade didn't care. He left them, giving a smile when a group of birds flew off the moment they saw Logan running through the thick untapped maples And conifers.

“Bye, Bub..”

Wade had seen the quiet calculations the moment they came to a stop, How he perfectly jumped out, exercising his internal instincts. The one that was in a cage for far too long.

They say the silence makes a sound mind, but not his, no. If anything it just soaked the front of his jacket more from the frustrations of being alone with himself.

It's good land, or at least it was. Before people started building their AirBnb Cabins and disturbing all the quiet. It takes a strong hand to live out here. The kind in which Logan's calluses formed like the rough paw pads of the wolves that frequented the area.

The only good thing about this freezing forest was the quiet that came to Wade. Though with quiet came thoughts, and thinking in silence wasn't his strong suit.

That was the day Wade decided that he would never be like him. He wouldn't keep people who were better off somewhere else. He wouldn't lock those who loved him in a room to starve. He wouldn't ever hit those who he loved, he wouldn't come home angry and scream at anyone he could find. He wouldn't call them useless or pathetic.

Wade has been alone with himself since he could remember. The agonizing voices constantly critiquing his every thought and action, never being good enough, reinforced by his father. Honestly the Doc just said it nicely.

Your fucked, just like your dad.

But Wade wasn't his father.

He wouldn't force those who needed to run out their energy to stay inside a tiny trailer. He wouldn't cheat on his partner (ever), he wouldn't abandon them to go out gambling, he wouldn't hit his kids for saying how they felt, he wouldn't ever make them afraid of a belt. He wouldn't-

Thick tears wet his gloves as he blinks, not knowing how long he had been staring at the ground.

He wouldn't treat others how his head treated him... how his father treated them.

Taking a deep breath, Wade swallows, his throat tight with anger and regret.

They were overdue for this. Honest. Except this wasn't just blowing off steam or playing. This was the real deal. Logan was going to be free. He's spent so long just getting by. Skipping parties and hopping from town to town hoping that maybe, the farther he got away from himself, the more he'd be able to sleep at night without remembering what those hands have done, hoping to curl up in a dumpster and die.

It's where Logan thought he belonged. That he deserved all the bottles people threw at him, all the curses they screamed at him until he left town. But Wade didn't think that. He thought Logan deserved the world. To be happy. He deserved to be free of the expectations of society and their backwards thinking of Ferals.

Logan has said that before Wade, He was just traveling from place to place, crossing his claws that someone like him would find him and not only love him but accept him.

He told him, That Logan died within that timeline. When he destroyed his world for Wade's, a piece of him died, a piece that has spent his entire life doing everything just to survive, but never to live. Wade has taught him how to live. It's something he never thought about when he lived in his universe, but that's the thing about survival. Who the hell likes living just to die?

That was the plan, anyway. Why would He care? No one would miss him. Though it was Satan's own funny joke to make him unkillable, no matter how many bottles he drank.

Wade takes a deep breath, not noticing the time that has passed. His fingers were numb, his face was frozen, His breath was smoke.

Sniffling, Wade sighs, standing up. He looks back, only to see that Logan had left the Deadpool plush, the one Wade made for him and must have stitched over 20 times already from how rough Logan liked to play with it. Taking it into his jaws and shaking his head happily.

Just this morning, he saw how excited he was to get in the car.

“Peanut! Let's go!”

Logan, of course, came when called, Wiggling so ecstatic that his squirming made it almost impossible to put on his harness.

Giggling, Wade put a hand on his chest, right above his heart, to soothe the beast within him. The one that wanted to run for miles and couldn't wait to go outside.

Packing up the car, Wade loads it up with blankets, snacks, fake passports, extra money for gas, chargers, toilet paper, etc. Things they would need for their road trip.

Once ready, He opens the door, smiling. “Alright baby! Come on. Let's go! Outside?”

Logan runs out the door, only to skirt to a stop as if forgetting something, whimpering. Scratching at the door, he looked back up to Wade, giving him the biggest puppy eyes.

“What's wrong, Wolvie? Okay- okay. Hold on.”

Getting his keys, Wade jiggled them into the door, clicking it open. “What did ya forget, boy?”

Rushing into the apartment, he just as quickly comes back with the deadpool plush in his mouth. He was so eager to get it, to keep it with him at all times, careful not to forget it at any of their pit stops.

And now here it was.. in the back of a van.. a hole in its side.. stuffing falling out. Left alone.

Abandoned.

Though.. Wade smiles, sniffling as he cleans up the car, picking up the pieces of heart he put into sewing the plush toy. At least Logan loved him while he was here.. that's what mattered right? It would be nice to know that now, when things got hard, and Wade missed him more than anything, Logan would be far from here.

He'd be wherever he needed to be. Free to run. Free to hunt. Free to scratch and climb as much as he pleased. And Wade knew, he'd go far. As far as he needed to feel free from the chains of expectations.

Perhaps he'd find some Wolves to run with. Find a new pack.. find a new mate.. forget Wade entirely.

#puppy logan #pup logan #caregiver wade wilson #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadclaws #pet regression #petre #sfw petre #pet space

50 notes · View notes

simply-whump · 3 months ago

Text

Kill Me Love Me (春花焰) - Whump List

Whumpee : Murong Jing He played by Liu Xue Yi

Synopsis : Prince Murong Jing He led his Weibei Army to reclaim Qingzhou, a lost territory. Soon after his army entered the city, a devastating fire broke out. Rumor had it that the prince, now known as the ruthless "Butcher General", ordered the city to be burned to the ground. In the flames, a young girl named Mei Lin lost her entire family. Heartbroken and consumed by vengeance, she vowed to kill the one responsible for the massacre, Prince Murong Jing He himself. (MDL)

Genres : Historical, Mystery, Romance, Political

Warning! Possible spoilers below!

Murong Jinghe

Ep 1 : (20:35) Dreaming of the past (beaten on the ground, bloody) — (27:25) Bitten

Ep 2 : (Flashback) (00:30) Depressed, in a wheel chair — (05:30) Pushed to the ground — (Present) (22:20) Hit in the face by a piece of bread — (Flashback) (33:00) Falls from his wheelchair, crawling on the ground, crying, miserable, kicked

Ep 3 : (Flashback) (09:35) Accused unjustly, hit, falls down some stairs, beaten very badly, spitting blood, legs broken, in pain — (Present) (27:55) Stumbling, caught, stabbed, collapses — (29:40) In bed, coughing — (Flashback) (30:40) Very painful treatment to heal his leg, leg broken, trying to stand, falling

EP 4 : (07:15) Drunk — (28:25) Hand bleeding — (32:00) Stumbling, caught, concern for him, coughing

Ep 5 : (01:55) Coughing (old injury acting up), concern for him — (25:55) Bitten

Ep 6 : (16:15) Bitten

Ep 7 : None

Ep 8 : (19:10) Knocked out

Ep 9-10 : None

Ep 11 : (30:35) Drunk, walking unsteadily

Ep 12 : None

Ep 13 : (27:15) Surrounded by assassins, falls down a cliff into water — (29:25) Bitten by a poisonous snake, in pain, can’t get up, leg paralysed, helped to walk — (34:05) Helped to walk, weak, feeling embarrassed, collapses, recalling painful memories of previous injuries, struggling, crying — (40:00) Put on a handmade wooden stretcher

Ep 14 : (01:45) Still walking a bit weakly — (04:00) Having nightmares, wakes up, shaky breathing — (22:00) Intense battle, shot, sees a friend die in front of him, emotional, running away from assassins

Ep 15 : (03:25) Helped to walk, weak (Has had nothing to drink or eat for a few days + injured) — (06:45) Walking weakly, stumble down a small cliff, seems unconscious, concern for him, coughing — (10:05) Starved, dehydrated, helped to walk under the snow, very weak, collapses, passes out, concern for him — (19:05) Half buried under the snow, still unconscious, found — (21:55) wakes up, weak — (34:05) Stung by a bee

Ep 16 : (07:35) Tied up

Ep 17-20 : None

Ep 21 : (29:30) Unsteady, concern for him, has a fever, given medicine — (34:15) Collapses unconscious, concern for him —(37:10) In pain

Ep 22 : (06:45) Wakes up — (32:15) Chained

Ep 23 : (02:25) Fighting, cut — (06:45) Fighting, hit, spitting blood, cut, more blood spitting, stabbed, struggling, cut, stabbed again while protecting someone, collapses — (13:35) Treated, unconscious in bed, between life and death — (16:05) Wakes up, crying, gets up, weak — (30:05) Weak, stumbling, wound reopens, bleeding, collapses —(36:15) Crying

Ep 24 : (35:00) Stone thrown at him

Ep 25 : None

Ep 26 : (16:00) Working under the rain, hand bleeding

Ep 27 : None

Ep 28 : (16:15) Desperate, crying, miserable — (22:00) Tries to kill himself, stopped — (25:00) Desperate, going a bit crazy, running around in search of his love, collapses, crying — (34:05) Depressed, teary-eyed, crying

Ep 29: (31:45) Stabbed in the shoulder while protecting someone, passes out — (33:10) Unconscious in bed, concern for him, coughing, wakes up, weak

Ep 30 : (25:30) Jump into water from a cliff, worried for someone

Ep 31 : (31:30) Tough battle, hit, spitting blood (Seriously why do they always have to kill the best side characters at the end??? I swear, every time!), blasted by an explosion — (35:20) On the ground, exhausted — (37:10) Sitting looking completely out of it, thinking about his fallen friend, crying, startled by a small touch, hugged, sobbing (I almost cried with him) — (44:40) Worried for someone

Ep 32 : (03:00) Worried, desperate, digging in the snow, exhausted, collapses, rolls down a hill, passes out — (08:05) Crying — (15:50) Crying (These last few episode have been pure pain) — (38:00) Crying — (43:00) Crying — (51:50) Dies

>> Another Whump List with Liu Xue Yi

>> More Whump Lists

#kill me love me #whump list #asian whump #whump #cdrama #chinese drama #liu xueyi

69 notes · View notes

violetsaffron5 · 2 years ago

Text

Dirty Little Secret (1)

Taglist • Ao3 • Social Media • Discord 18+ • Masterlists • Chapter 2 →

↳ 1 | Unholy

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Gojo Satoru is many things: family man, politician, someone the public believes they can trust. It’s how he’s gotten where he is in life. Hidden beneath the façade is a man with many guilty pleasures – you being one of them.

words: 7.3k

cw: explicit drugs use, mention of alcohol, infidelity (not on reader), vaginal fingering, rough sex, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding kink, degradation, dacryphilia, exhibitionism

an: This was just going to be a oneshot based on the song "Unholy" by Sam Smith, but then I had an idea for a small part 2

an2.0: if you would like to read part 2, that one got tagged with a community lable. Please make sure you have those on, this post will tell you how to enable that as well.

His wife probably thought she was the luckiest woman in the world when he got down on one knee, professed his love and said he wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side.

She probably felt even luckier, everything going according to their life plan when she found out she was pregnant with his children, starting a loving family with one of the most prominent politicians Tokyo has to offer.

She’d kick him out if she ever knew the way you stand between his legs, moving your shoulders, chest and hips to the beat of the bass blasting in the club. The way his eyes watch your hands trailing the length of your body before putting his own on your skin.

She’d divorce him on the spot if she knew the way you grind on his hips, the way his fingers caress every inch of your skin when he comes to see you.

She would never let him touch her again if she knew how he touched you, in all the ways she won’t let him do to her, in all the ways he really wants, the ways he enjoys.

Of course you’re aware of the wife - it would be impossible not to be. The picture-perfect family, an ideal trophy wife, two children. That’s his spiel, how he got into office and maintained his position over the years. He’s a father, a family man; understands the struggle and just how hard it is to maintain a happy healthy family - just like the average working person.

A politician you can trust because he’s just like you.

You’ve never seen or met her, steering clear of anything that has to do with Satoru during the day, but from your understanding he spends a lot of time with his kids when he has free time in the mornings and afternoons.

In the evenings he finds himself with you. Long legs spread wide as he sits back on the plush couch, you dropping your hips down onto his, grinding on him until you feel his cock harden from your touch.

It’s a miracle she hasn’t found out about the shit Satoru does behind her back; it’s a miracle nobody has. Sure he tries to be as discreet as possible, entering clubs through the back, paying for private rooms, private dances all the while spending thousands on sex, drugs and alcohol.

That’s how the two of you met. You were on stage, twirling, spinning and sliding your way down and around a pole in the most provocative positions. Satoru walked in with his three best friends; a man with long raven locks, one with a scar over the right side of his lip, and another with several tattoos over his face.

Satoru immediately caught your attention, with his messy hair, white as freshly fallen snow hanging over his eyes, eyes that were covered by dark square sunglasses, shielding them from your view. You watched him lick his lips, talk to your manager and head to a room in the back with his friends.

You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel his gaze burning into you with every flip of your hair, shimmy of your waist and hips in his direction.

You didn’t realize who he was at this point, not that it has ever really mattered.

It started with him coming to see you, paying to have you as the lone private dancer - sometimes for just him, sometimes with his friends. He’d tip you an exorbitant amount each time, enough of you to buy the Gucci handbag you’ve had your eye on for some time.

Eventually, when he realized you figured out who he is and weren’t talking about the shit you’ve seen him do, he easily charmed you with his honeyed words and wicked ways, inviting you to continue to the party elsewhere when your performances had ended.

Satoru likes to spend money, always seems to have too much of it, if the tips he leaves you with are anything to judge him by. Always enough to buy the latest Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Versace without batting an eye.

All because you’re so good to him, he says.

He likes to get his hands on the finest white powders money can buy; likes to snort lines off your tits before rolling the remaining into dainty joints for you to smoke; likes to watch you with his own lazy, crooked smile as the smooth burn fills your lungs.

You’re consistent, staying out of his life and daily affairs. It’s part of what he likes so much about you.

You never ask for more, knowing he’s not willing to give it. It’s why he keeps coming back to you, there’s no desire to be a part of the drama that would ensue if anyone outside of his circle of friends ever found out about you.

It’s why you had no problem signing the NDA he presented on your first night out together.

Satoru knows when he needs it, you’ll be there; when he wakes in the morning, you’ll be gone. Not wanting any part of the lives you lead outside of the clubs and hotel rooms you frequently find yourselves in.

The bright lights from the city faded from the rear view mirror some time ago. Things are different tonight, seemingly calmer than you’ve ever experienced before with the man sitting to your right over the year you’ve been seeing each other.

He shifts gears while humming along to the tune playing softly in the background as the two of you sit in a comfortable silence.

The car is extravagant. It suits him and you wouldn’t expect anything less to be honest. It’s the kind of car where the doors open up, rather than out, the leather seats are a dark black while the exterior is a stark white matching his hair.

The small space smells like a mix of his cologne, bergamot and honey, along with the perfume you always put on before going out with him.

This is the longest you’ve ever spent in his vehicle, unless he’s pulled off to the side of the road or in an abandoned parking lot either with you on his lap or spread out in the back seat as he fucks into you.

Satoru hasn’t spoken a lot tonight, just asked if you wanted to hang out after work and ushered you into his car on an empty street like usual. Obviously he’s taking you away tonight but you’re not sure where and trying not to care too much, so you don’t ask.

Doing that would change the aloof nature of your relationship and you’re not ready for any of those dynamics to be different, nor do you think he would be receptive to it.

“I can’t stay long,” he breaks the silence first, pulling into a hotel roughly forty five minutes away on the outskirts of Tokyo, “and I need to be sober. But, you can have fun and I’ll drive you home later.”

Satoru’s never taken you home before, though with his connections and power you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where you live regardless. When you’ve stayed the night together before, you’re always up early and make sure to leave before he wakes up. Not only because you shouldn’t be with him, but also because you’ve never been one to stick around for awkward morning conversations or expectations.

You nod with a quiet “okay,” while he hands you a basic black face mask while putting on his own. He also takes off his tie, throwing it in his pocket and undoing a few of the top buttons on his shirt before putting on a matching black sock hat to cover his hair.

Stepping out of the car, you adjust your tiny black dress and hair before looping your arm in with Satoru’s making your way into the glamorous hotel, past the concierge and to the elevator.

Even when trying to be discreet, Satoru and his friends can’t help the luxuries they like to surround themselves with. He says he can’t stay and has to be sober, but that didn’t stop any of them from choosing a hotel with chandeliers, gold decor and marble floors covering every inch of the lobby.

When you get to the top floor of the hotel, there are only a few doors in the hall. Satoru knocks on one a few times before it’s quickly opened, allowing the two of you in. The space is more akin to an apartment than a hotel room - a small kitchen off to one side, a large bedroom with its own door separating the space from what serves as the living room.

There are floor to ceiling windows covering every inch of wall space, overlooking the small, lively city below. Chandeliers hang in this room too, the bathroom has similar marble flooring to the lobby with a shower that could easily fit ten, along with a jacuzzi.

Suguru is sitting on a chair reclined back with a woman who could easily be a model on his lap. He has a joint between his fingers, bringing it to his lips and taking a drag before holding it up to hers. She accepts with a grin, hand on his chest while the other fiddles with his hair.

Toji and Sukuna are sitting on a love seat next to Suguru, doing what they always seem to be doing - cutting too many lines of a soft white powder on a mirrored plate with a credit card before rolling one of their bills and inhaling, taking turns.

There are several other women in the room with a few other guys you don’t recognize - they’re all busy grinding to the beat of the music playing, glasses of champagne in their hands.

You never know who Toji and Sukuna are going to have with them - it’s seemingly a new girl each time you’re around. Aside from yourself and the girl on Suguru’s lap you’ve seen a few times, you’re the only constant.

Then again, you don’t know what goes on, on the other nights of the week that Satoru doesn’t come to whisk you away. You’ve never bothered to ask, never wanting to know how many other women he has, just like you, waiting to have his attention for the night.

Toji walks over, the mountain of a man that he is, emerald green eyes gleaming with mischief as he looks you up and down, biting his scarred lip before saying, “lookin’ great, as always.”

You’re smiling, unable to help the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from his intense gaze, but don’t respond because Satoru has moved his hand to your waist, pulling you in closer to him.

“Can you fuck off and leave my girl alone?” Satoru says without a trace of humor and you’re reeling more from his words than you should be.

His girl.

You don’t let yourself think too hard about it. You know what this is, what it always will be.

What it can never be.

You’re shrugging as Satoru pulls you away, moving his hand from your waist down to your ass, grabbing a handful before removing his hand completely, sitting on the couch next to Suguru, across from where Sukuna was before, who is now missing.

Satoru likes it when you wear the things you buy with his money - showing him you appreciate what he’s given you. Every once in a while you’ll buy a new handbag or jewelry to show off but mainly you spend it on little dresses to flaunt around in front of him, something easily accessible and removable, the way he likes it.

Sitting on the couch, resting your head on Satoru’s shoulder listening to the way his voice reverberates through his chest as he talks with Suguru, you absentmindedly draw little shapes on his chest wondering why he brought you with him tonight. The only thing you’ve been doing since you got here is listen to them discuss things you’re not interested in talking or hearing about, things that have to do with their work.

A soft quiet sigh leaves your lips as you watch Suguru pack and roll another joint for himself and his guest. Satoru hears and cocks his head in your direction before capturing your lips with his own quickly.

“You can join them. I’ll take care of you tonight.”

“It’s not fun without you,” you’re running your thumb across his lower lip, wiping away the lipstick that’s smeared on the corner. He grins before biting the tip of your thumb, swirling his tongue around it.

After a few moments, you pull your thumb away and he clicks his tongue before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and a little clear plastic baggie with a white powder that was embedded deep within, “this would be fun for you. Just need a little.”

Your brows are furrowed; it’s a different soft crystalline powder than you’ve seen him have before, “what is it?”

“A stimulant,” he replies generically, his grin is wide as he puts his wallet back in his pocket. Satoru tells you to take the water bottle that’s on the table beside you and drink it because you’ll want to stay hydrated and then to wet the tip of one of your fingers with your tongue.

You grin, looking up at him through thick lashes before putting your index finger in his mouth. He chuckles before rolling his tongue on it a few times. Listening to his instructions, you dip your finger into the baggie and suck the powder off - it doesn’t taste like anything. All you’re able to taste is the slight spearmint flavor from his spit.

After dipping your finger back into the baggie you hold it up for him. He watches you, eyes dark, stern and unamused. Satoru sees the way your shoulders slump slightly when he doesn’t accept it and the way your lower lips juts out slightly, pouting - it’s barely noticeable, but he sees it.

You’ve never asked for more from him over the last year, and you’ve been so good to him during that time too.

“Fuck, okay, but this is it.”

“Okay.” You reply quietly, the corner of your lip tugging upwards.

The boys continue their conversation and you’re not sure how much time has passed but as you watch Satoru’s sharp jaw as he speaks, the planes of his cheeks and slope of his nose you also realize his pupils have dilated tremendously. They’re more black than blue at this point.

You’ve also noticed you’ve been drawing little circles on the palm of your hand this entire time - the touch of your own skin feels so good that you can’t help but reach for Satoru and run your nails up and down the length of his arm. He tilts his head towards you, smirks and pulls you closer so your legs are resting atop his as he follows suit on your bare legs.

The contact feels incredible, like little tingles of electricity each time his nails run up and down the length of your legs slowly. Every once in a while he moves his hand up your thigh, towards the hem of your dress which makes you gasp, more and more slick pooling in the center of your panties with each pass of his hand.

“So, the wife is finally suspicious about where you go at night, huh?” Suguru asks smoothly as Toji and Sukuna come back over and sit on the small couch across from you.

Sukuna lights another joint, taking a long drag before adding, “everyone is suspicious about what we’re up to. That’s nothing new.”

Satoru sighs before leaning his head against the back of the couch, “just need to make sure nothing gets out. It’ll affect more than just us and our families if it does.”

“Awe,” you coo, “trouble in paradise?”

Satoru is snide with his remark as he glares at you from the corner of his cold blue eyes, “why? Wish I was married to you?”

You grin, leaning up to whisper in his ear, “you wish.”

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, “hiding me from anyone?”

Satoru grabs the little bag of powder and opens it again, so you do the same as you did last time; lick the tip of your index finger, dip it in and place a little on your tongue before doing the same for him.

“Nope, not worth it.”

This is the first time either of you have really acknowledged your lives outside of what you do when you’re together, typically avoiding any and all topics that have to do with personal lives.

Tonight is different and you don’t know why though you’re not exactly putting in any effort to change it.

Satoru has never worried or cared if his friends made a comment about how good you look or showed interest in hooking up with you but tonight he’s more possessive of your interactions. Holding you closer, letting details of his family and day to day life slip in conversation like he never has before.

“This feels so good,” you rasp out, taking in the feeling of his hands moving along your legs and mostly thighs at this point, so you move to straddle him. Satoru runs his large hands up your thighs slowly and under your dress to your ass, gripping hard as you press your body up against his chest, “need you.”

“I can’t tonight,” it’s a whisper filled with desperation because he wants to.

Satoru’s grip on your hips tightens as he lowers you down onto his lap so you can feel just how badly he wants you too. A whimper leaves your lips when he guides you to roll your hips on top of his before moving his hands to the insides of your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He hisses when he feels your arousal running down your leg and quickly loses his resolve, moving your panties to the side and running two fingers through your soaked folds.

It’s easy to forget, with the way he’s easily able to insert two fingers into your pussy and find your sweet spot, that the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room. Foreheads pressed together, mouths agape as you cup his cheek, rutting your hips in time with his hand as he brings you closer and closer to the brink of your release.

Satoru moves a hand from your hip to your throat, squeezing gently at the base while your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. Each touch, each pass of his fingers on your g-spot is euphoric.

There’s slick coating his hand, up to his wrist - you’re wet, wetter than you ever have before and you’re doing everything in your power to move your hips with his hand so his palm stays tightly pressed against your clit. You’re mewling, whimpering, never wanting this feeling to end, almost ready to beg him to keep you like this forever.

You’re so taken back with each others touch, the way you hold him close, card your fingers through his hair and drag your nails through his undercut; the way your breaths are mingling with one another as you’re so overcome with desire and pleasure you can’t even warn him that the thread barely keeping you together is about to snap before you’re moaning out his name and he’s whispering “fuck, that’s it,” as you absolutely gush on his hand.

Capturing your lips again the kisses are messy and needy until you’re both snapped back to reality by the sounds of Toji laughing, “damn, that was quite the show. You gonna need some help with her?”

Satoru sighs, running his thumb across your lips before moving you off his lap and standing, entwining his fingers with yours, “fuck off, Fushiguro. Find someone your own age to hang out with.”

He leads you out of the room and back down to the lobby of the hotel. You’re sure you’re about to leave for the night, before he lets temptation ruin him but rather than leading you out, he stops at the receptionist's desk, where a young man is standing, asking for a room.

There’s a smile that spreads across your face and you can’t even help it, a feeling of superiority spreading through your body that he’s choosing to spend the night with you, rather than whatever obligation was holding him back earlier.

“Hi,” you smile and wave at the receptionist while biting your lip. His eyes are flicking between you and Satoru as he looks for an open room.

It’s thrilling, being out with Satoru - there’s always that underlying thought, the excitement around potentially getting caught, even though that isn’t something either of you actually want.

Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest, either because of the reality of the two of you being caught due to a snap decision on his part to stay the night or because of the drugs you took earlier, you’re not sure but you don’t let yourself dwell on it.

Satoru tilts his head in your direction, eyeing you up and down with a frown, “don’t fucking flirt with another man in front of me.”

“Oh, jealousy is not a good look on you.”

Before Satoru is able to reply, the receptionist cuts in, handing Satoru the keycard to a room along with a pamphlet of information about amenities the hotel provides. When the receptionist finishes his spiel Satoru carefully looks him over.

“If anything leaks from here, I’ll know it was from you and I will make your life a living hell. I will take anything and everything you hold dear to your heart and ruin it. You will be nothing but a broken man by the time I’m done with you. Understood?”

The man stands with wide eyes as he replies in a hurried, shaky voice, “o-okay. Understood.”

And then Satoru grins like an angel before pulling you along with him, to take you up to the room and fuck you like the devil he truly is.

He pulls you into the elevator, hiding both of your faces from the camera by pushing you into the wall of the confined space, lips latched while your tongues glide against one another, hips rutting into the other looking for stimulation.

When the elevator dings, he stumbles backwards dragging you along with him, keeping your lips connected until right outside the space where he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist while he pulls the keycard out of his pocket. You busy yourself with kissing along his jaw and neck while he finds the room you were assigned, swiping the card and kicking the door closed once he’s walked through the threshold.

The room is large, and grand but nowhere near as extravagant as the one you were in earlier, not that it really matters considering the only focus is the plush king size mattress he lets you softly fall onto.

Satoru doesn’t waste any time unbuttoning his shirt and slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room while you slip the dress off, along with your panties, waiting in the center of the bed for him to join you.

And he does, with a salacious grin spread across his face crawling over to you, pushing you further into the mattress while you spread your legs, feeling his long, thick cock press against your soaked entrance.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp out, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, “condom.”

He stares at you like you’ve just shot him square in the chest before furrowing his brows, “No. We’ll- I’ll- fuck- I’ll pull out, I have to feel you.”

Satoru doesn’t have many rules - first and foremost, above all else, stay out of the limelight and his family's business and do not talk to anyone about the details of your relationship with him without a lawyer present if anyone should find out.

After that it’s simple, really only two other rules to abide by; take your birth control pills on time and wear a condom. And he’s been adamant about that until tonight. He’s always stated he didn’t want to risk getting anything and passing it to his wife because that would be a fucking nightmare to try and explain his way out of, but it would be an even bigger problem if he were to get you pregnant.

All of that seems to be out of the window tonight because he effortlessly pushes in past your entrance. He moans sinfully at the feeling while your eyes roll to the back of your head and arch your back, “you’re so wet, this- oh fuck- fuck, you feel so good.”

“What about your wife?” You manage to gasp out, mouth open, eyes half lidded, nails digging into his shoulder as he moves so painfully slowly that it’s amazing.

The heightened sense of touch, the feeling of him with nothing in between is intoxicating, makes your head a little dizzy, feeling every inch of his length as he pulls out and pushes back in.

“You jealous, baby?” He mutters, eyes hazy with lust, “want me to fuck you the way I do my wife?”

He pulls almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into yours causing you to stutter out, “fuck, n-no, no.”

“Think I’ll leave my wife, leave my family for a stripper?” His cock twitches at his words but he doesn’t move his hips again, doesn’t give you what you need so you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him the best you’re able, “I’ve fucking thought about it, having you like this every day.”

His large hands span your hips, halting your movements as he sits back up and pulls out to your dismay.

“Beg me.” He demands, running the red tip of his cock across your hypersensitive folds, nudging your clit a few times in the process just to watch the way you squirm below him, “beg me to fuck you.”

He takes a handful of your tits massaging them roughly before leaning down, swirling his tongue on your hardened nipple. He tweaks the other at the same time he tugs the other between his teeth.

“S’toru,” you whine needy and shamelessly, “I- fuck- please, please fuck me. Just- want to feel you, need you, please.”

Satoru watches you through his lashes the way you wriggle and writhe with your nipple tugged gently between his teeth. Cock is straining, leaking precum from the slit on the sheets of the bed - he’s just as needy as you, dying to be touched, to get the stimulation he’s craving just as badly as you but he’s being incredibly patient tonight.

His length is longer, harder and thicker than usual, twitches with your words and every whimper that leaves your lips but he still doesn’t fuck you - he’s waiting. Waiting for you to say he can fuck you, unimpeded and raw.

“Please, Satoru, baby,” tears are forming in the corner of your eyes, threatening to break free if he doesn’t work to extinguish the fire that’s burning in the center of your belly, to give you the release your body is screaming at you to have, “fuck me, please- so hard- always wanted to feel you-”

He can’t hold back anymore, not when you’re laying so pretty on the bed, tears streaming down your cheeks and begging him to give you what he knows only he can. Before you’ve realized what happened, he has you flipped over lining his cock with your entrance before slamming his hips flush with yours.

You cry out his name as he moves his hips with reckless abandon, finally, finally feeding the flames of desire burning in your core. His crystalline eyes are hooded with lust and desire as he grabs your hair at the roots and tugs harshly, other hand on your hip helping keep you in place as he pumps his hips faster and harder.

“You take all of me so fucking well,” he moans, “nobodies ever taken all of me.”

Wet, lewd squelching noises fill the space of the hotel room. You’re so wet from the jolt of electricity that thrums through your body with every touch and every time the tip of his cock grazes your sweet spot, and you’re only getting wetter as he continues to fuck into your rougher and rougher.

You know he’s comparing you to his wife when he babbles aimlessly like this, but you’ve learned to not let it bother you, not to think too much on it. After all, he’s spending his free time with you.

Sex with Satoru has always been good, he always seemed to know what you needed before you did, but tonight is different. Better somehow.

It’s all so much, so euphoric that there’s no way you’re able to hold back your impending orgasm; unable to help the way your thighs shake when the tip of his length kisses your cervix so deliciously you know it’ll ache in the morning.

The moment Satoru drapes his body over yours, fingers drawing small tight circles on your clit is the moment the flames erupt, warmth and pleasure coursing through your veins as your walls spasm and constrict around his cock so hard he has to slow his pace and take a deep shaky breath in order to not follow along right beside you.

He lets go of your hair, kissing your shoulders and center of your back several times before sitting back on the balls of his feet before taking both of your wrists in one of his large hands and holding them behind your back.

Satoru moves his hips slowly a few times before pulling you up so your back is flush with his chest.

“Like it when I fuck you like the filthy slut you are?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before hooking his fingers in your mouth turning your attention to him. Your tongue immediately finds his fingers, swirling over them as you look up to him, eyes so dark and filled with lust you can barely see any of the color anymore. He lets a tail of saliva fall from his mouth into yours and you moan the moment it hits your tongue, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He lets go of your wrist, splaying one hand over your stomach to feel the bulge from his cock each time he recklessly fucks into you, while the other finds its way to your breast, squeezing and gripping as he looses himself to pleasure inside of you.

There’s a mirror across from you, above the dresser in front of the bed - Satoru’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink, down his neck to the top of his chest. Lips parted with eyes on you as he watches and listens to the way you moan and whine from each stroke of his long cock.

“Satoru, cum in me,” his hips falter at your words, “fill me up, please.”

“Baby, I can’t.” But he absolutely wants to.

He pushes you back down on the bed, hand in the center of your back keeping your face pressed against the silky sheets. He takes the opportunity to grip your ass and spread your cheeks, watching the way you take all of him down the base without complaint. He lets his spit fall from his mouth, and watches the way you jolt when it makes contact with your other entrance unexpectedly and slides down to his cock, mixing with your arousal.

Satoru feels the way your pussy has a death grip on his cock again, knows you’re about to cum and he can’t bring himself to pull out. Not when you look and sound so pretty for him, not when you were literally begging for him to cum inside you earlier.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” he’s moaning at the thought, getting lost inside you, “I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you so fucking full of me.”

His words are enough to set you off, having your pussy tightening around him like a noose as he paints your walls white, letting out a guttural groan as he rocks his hips back and forth, working you both through your releases.

There’s so much dripping out from between where you’re connected that his efforts to keep it all inside are fruitless. The view is absolutely obscene, cum mixed together and dripping onto the bed sheets below, the sounds are vulgar but it doesn’t stop him from fucking it deep and deeper inside, rolling his neck and head back through the hypersensitivity of his his tip.

Eventually he rolls you over onto your back, both panting, trying to catch your breaths. He’s still half hard, both hissing at the sensation when he runs his cock up through your puffy folds, dragging his wet, heavy cock on your stomach when he leans up and places several languid kisses to the center of your chest.

He licks a strip from your chest to jaw before sucking several small red starbursts on your neck, shoulder and down to your tits. Your nails are on his shoulder and back digging into his skin - he groans, loves the feeling, the sharp to dull pain that comes with it.

There’s been an unspoken rule between the two of you, no marks. Not on him at least. It’s more important his body be free from any unknown scratches and little red marks, should the press decide to have a field day seeing them and decide to investigate.

“Love leaving marks on you,” he whispers, voice low, gravely with desire again. “Everyone knows you belong to someone else, don’t they?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Tell me baby, who do you belong to?”

“You. Satoru, I’m yours.” You answer a little too honestly, holding his face a little too lovingly. He groans at the confirmation, knows he shouldn’t have made you say it but couldn’t resist hearing it.

You place several kisses on his lips and cheek. Everything is getting progressively sloppier, starting to come down from your respective highs. Satoru’s eyes are half lidded, not only from lust but from a tiredness that’s starting to seep through.

He returns the kisses languidly before you kiss along his jaw, sucking a small spot just under his jaw, nipping at the skin playfully a few times in the process. He doesn’t stop you because he knows that despite not being able to give you all of himself, he’s yours too.

Probably even more than he’s his wifes.

Slowly, he presses his tip against your entrance again, easily slipping past the ring of muscles while you wrap your legs around his waist. He hooks one of his arms under your knee, pushing it up so he’s able to get deeper.

Satoru fucks into you hard and fast like this. It’s messy, wet and sticky with your mixed arousal and cum connecting the two of you. Slick wet sounds fill the room again until you’re both on the brink of another imminent release.

“Think I might fucking love you.” He admits, voice low, filled with lust.

You want to say it back, but you know it’s not true, the shit he says when he’s buried ten inches deep in your cunt, cock bruising your cervix as he fucks into you.

“You’re so wet, already so full of me,” he moans at the thought of cumming inside you again. “G-gonna give you a baby, gonna give you part of me.”

“S’toru,” you gasp at his lust filled desires and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that too so you move your hips up wantonly, eagerly, “yes, please.”

It’s a bad fucking idea, to let him say these things, to agree with him. But you let him move your knees back to your shoulders, holding the heels of your feet for leverage as he presses his hips into you until you’re both cumming again.

He collapses on top of you, heavy breaths fanning your ear. You lay like this, chests rising and falling against one another until you’re overcome by sleep.

There’s light peeking in through semi-closed curtains, a beam of light hitting your face at the perfect angle, right into your eye. Knitting your brows together, you stifle a yawn before stretching out, feeling a warm body pressed into yours.

Your eyes flutter open, focusing on the dim light of the hotel room. It’s the same as it was last night, pristine, perfect. All except the sheets and blankets that are askew on the bed from your passion filled night.

The silky white sheet is covering most of you, but only on Satoru up to his hips. He must have gotten hot last night, threw everything off him in his sleep.

Looking up to him, his eyes are still closed, eyes moving slightly behind his lids. Soft white lashes flutter slightly with each movement while his arm that’s wrapped around your waist twitches slightly.

Your naked body is pressed against him, skin to skin. One leg is tangled between his while one hand is on his chest.

You let yourself take in the sight, not something you allow yourself to do frequently, but last night was indulgent, so this morning might as well be too. Satoru looks peaceful when he’s asleep. He’s always so calm and collected when you’re with him but never quite like this.

Truly without a care in the world with his eyes closed. No stress about someone finding out about you, exposing his lies and his secret life.

You stay like this for too long, watching him sleep, letting your index finger run along the scar on his chest. He says your name quietly, and you smile, just slightly at the thought of him dreaming about you.

You’re still high, you can tell, feeling light and airy and great about everything, but you know better than to let it last. You’ll be coming down again soon and everything will feel mundane, pointless, bothersome.

So you go to move, push yourself away from him to do your normal routine of getting ready for the day, pretending you were never here with him. His grip around your waist tightens, halting your movements.

“Stay…” Satoru whispers so quietly it’s barely audible.

Pursing your lips you look up at him, eyes still closed, no identifying feature signifying he’s woken up and is really, truly asking you to stay by his side, despite all the shit that would come along with it.

Your heart is beating fast, irregular, but you’re sure it’s from the stimulant. It has to be. Any other reason would be less than ideal.

After all, he probably thinks you’re his wife right now. Laying next to him, snuggled in close like she probably is every other day of the week.

You let out a single low wry chuckle at the morbid thought, licking your lips and shaking your head and whispering, “that’s not a good idea.”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down and you mentally kick yourself for leaving the incredibly obvious fucking hickey just below his jaw. Satoru’s grip loosens just enough for you to wriggle out of his grasp.

Something you quickly learned after getting involved with Satoru is to have a bag packed at all times. That way in the mornings you can shower, removing the sweat and scents of not only the alcohol or drugs but also his cologne from your skin. It’s important to make it appear like you were never with him, to never leave in the same clothes you’ve arrived in.

After showering, you do your normal daily routine. Moisturizers, hair products, make up. You bring it all and you do it all - it would be no different if you were sitting at home, getting ready for your day.

That’s all this is, isn’t it? Just a routine. Meet a man, party, have mind blowing sex, act as if you’ve never met each other afterwards. Over and over again.

When you step back into the living space of the room, Satoru is no longer lying on his back, but rather his stomach, face buried into the pillow you used last night. His own overnight back is open, evident he had rifled through it for some reason when you were in the shower before climbing back into the bed, ignoring your presence.

Sitting on top is a black Versace sweatshirt. Looking back over to him, he’s unmoving aside from his back raising and falling slightly with each breath. Pursing your lips you quickly decide to grab it out of his bag and throw it into yours.

It’ll smell like him, even if only for a few days.

Picking up your garments from last night, you throw them into your bag before pulling out oversized sunglasses to hide your obviously still blown pupils and throw them on before turning the knob of the door to exit the room.

You don’t bother turning around, checking to see if Satoru watched you walk out. There’s no point. You know he didn’t. This is all routine.

After ensuring the door closes completely, you take a few steps down the hall while the elevator dings and a woman steps out of it.

She’s tall, in a pressed black pencil skirt and blazer. She looks classy with the way her ebony hair falls over her shoulders in soft curls.

She heads down the direction you’re coming from. Neither of you acknowledge the other as you pass by, on your own separate missions. Your breathing picks up, and the air feels tense after noticing the scowl spread across her features. And you all but jump at the sound of her banging on the room door you just walked out of moments prior.

You press the button to the elevator a few times, palms growing more clammy by the second, afraid the two of you might have been caught, that the boy from the front desk didn’t heed Satoru’s warning.

You watch from the corner of your eye as Satoru groggily opens the door, complaining about the loud sound. At least he had enough sense to put on a shirt beforehand, hiding the marks you left across his chest and back.

“You missed our counseling appointment. Is this some kind of joke to you?”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes adjusting to the bright light of the hall and you could swear his eyes flicker to you for a split second before finally speaking.

“No, of course not. I went out with the guys last night and lost track of time. You know how it is.”

“All too well.”

She pushes past him into the room and you know he didn’t have enough time to do any clean up of his own, that the room still reeks of alcohol, sweat and sex. And if she even bothers to look around, he’ll have to explain why the shower is wet from having been used when he clearly hasn’t washed up.

“Good lord. What have you been doing here? And what is on your neck?”

His hand goes to his jaw instinctively to try to hide the mark you left last night, “uh, cigarette burn. The guys were messing around last night and I got mixed up in the fray.”

He doesn’t seem to be too worried about his wife’s line of questioning because he looks over to you, just as the elevator dings, giving you a smirk.

You watch him from the corner of your eye, biting your lip as you return the sly smile, stepping into the elevator once the doors open knowing he can’t and won’t stay away from you for long.

Taglist: @petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin

1K notes · View notes

insomniaruler · 4 months ago

Text

I’m thinking A G A I N

(Someone needs to put me down like a lame horse)

Once Eurylochus got to the gates of the underworld and the all consuming gnawing in the pit of his stomach had subsided he sat down on the barren rock the final 40 members of the crew wailing around him, cursing Odysseus, cursing him, cursing the god of storms himself. They had not been buried, each dying in the roaring blast of heat and pain before darkness. No passage would be granted.

But Eurylochus was silent. All he could see was Odysseus, his friend, captain and brother. All he could hear was Odysseus pleading with the gods themselves, they could not need make him choose between himself or his crew. Eurylochus cradled his trembling hands, thinking back to the last conscious moments before hunger had taken his mind and soul.

Ody was right if Eurylochus had been given the chance to see home again, to see the shores of Ithaca, to taste fresh fruit, to hold his dearest Citmene just once more. Eurylochus would have taken it, anything.

The worst part is that he knew in his heart of hearts where only The goddess of love could see he had been the one to ruin their chance of going home only a year after the war when he was enraptured by the little bag Odysseus so guarded.

It was him who lead them too disaster after disaster. What would Odysseus his own sister about Eury’s death? Would he tell her the truth or refuse to answer, maybe tell her he died like a dog? Realistically Eurylochus knew Odysseus would not lie to his sister, he couldn’t. Citmene would see through it, she too was blessed by The goddess of wisdom and a descendant of the God of Trickery. His eyes grew heavy as the ferryman approached for the souls who’d been properly buried.

Looking down he sighed, translucent. Not whole, he’d never be because he was stuck on the other side. Perhaps this would be best, Eury hoped to avoid Polities for as long as possible, the man who’d once been one of his closest friends would not forgive him any time soon. Thus he let his eyes close, maybe he’d be absorbed into his misery.

He slept for a long time tucked against a wall of the seemingly endless chamber, cradled by the cold hard stone he felt he deserved. Eurylochus woke to whispers surrounding him, “you Eurylochus of Ithaca?” “You’re holding up the boat!” “Come on get up” “who paid your fare!?”.

Blinking Eurylochus shook off the deep sleep and started in the direction the fading hands had pointed him too. There on a rickety old dock sat an even older and rickety trireme which was packed to the walls with souls, some he recognized some he had forgotten.

As soon as he stepped into the boat it set off across the acrid Styx river. Approaching a face he recognized nudged him. “Who paid for us?” Eurylochus whispered. “The Captain did. He’s going home.” Then the soul spat “Don’ matter to me, when he gets down here I’ll show him exactly what lightning does to you.” The soul spat.

Once they reached the other side Eurylochus shuffled through the wailing masses towards what he hoped was rest, he really hoped he hadn’t pissed of the sun god enough to land himself in the pits of Tartarus.

Shuffling through lines of souls Eurylochus muttered a whispered prayer. It was all a blur but somehow Eurylochus avoided the pits and now he was walking through a marble, gold and gemstone lined cavern. Was this..? Elysisum? Someone was going to come to him and banish him to the nothingness.

As he walked he his mind flickered with images of the living world. Carefully he wandered, feeling out of place in this hall of heroes. suddenly the world flipped around and standing above him was a furious Polities, somehow he’d ended up on the floor staring up at the glimmering ceiling.

Then Eurylochus was pinned, a firm fist planted right into his eye. “How DARE you! How dare you.” Polities shouted yanking Eurylochus up by his shirt front. “Polities I-“ Eurylochus whispered as he was getting dragged to a small brazier holding a small fire. For a second he was worried Polities was about to throw him in it. But then he was in a heap on the ground in front of the flame.

In it he saw Odysseus, handing two large bags of coins to a ghostly figure. “He’s paying your passage, to Hermes. All of you. You- you traitors.” Polities whispered, fuming. “I’m sorry-“ Eury whispered. “I don’t need apologies, I knew you as a brother in arms, I’ve fought with you since childhood. Just like Odysseus. You’re a traitor to our oath.” Polities said, his glasses were whole again, Eurylochus had stowed Polities’ shattered wire frames in his breast sachet.

“Is- is Citmene okay?” This had been the one thought plaguing him since he crossed the Styx. “She’s fine, she won’t be when she finds out her husband was killed by The king of the gods himself.” Polities spat, he let Eurylochus up and eventually they found themselves watching as Odysseus smiled for the first time in years as he saw his home on the horizon.

“He’s doing it. He’s made it home.” Polities whispered in awe. “But what of the palace something is wrong.” Eurylochus muttered slipping into his old roll with ease. “Shh Let me bask for a little bit Eury.” Polities shushed him.

Thus they watched their Brother go home. Too where they could never return. Eurylochus saw Citmene sitting near a pillar looking out at the sea, she kissed her ring. Polities had to stop him from leaning so far he’d fall into the fire. “Oh Argos.” Polities muttered as the faithful companion went still. Eurylochus cried when Citimene sobbed openly over his armour, saved from wreckage after wreckage by Odysseus.

#epic the musical #eurylochus #Citmene #odysseus #polities

82 notes · View notes

crushoncaleb · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: Halsin x f!reader

Angsty fluff

Word count: 1,3k

Content warnings: none as far as I'm aware, but feel free to correct me if I missed anything.

Summary: Halsin is going through it, and you're worried about him.

Okay, so seeing the vid of all the companions as barbarians changed me. Not only do I now think Halsin would be perfect as barbarian in the 'nature's wrath' typa way, I also decided to make Gale a barbarian in my next playthrough. My boy had the most pathetic little shout, and i happen to think that's great.

Anyway, here's reader getting worried about sweet druid Halsin turning into raging barbarian Halsin. There will be a part two eventually. It will be smut. Sorry guys, but i can't keep the horny in check.

Also, this is rly more of a drabble than a fic, so I'm not naming it :)

Ever since you'd been unable to save the grove, Halsin had been unable to change into an animal. This change hit the archdruid hard. Not only did this mean that Silvanus saw no chance of redemption in him, it meant the rest of his connection with nature was gone.

At least that's what he had convinced himself of. You were not so sure. You still saw the way nature seemed to respond to his presence, a spark of natural magic still present in the large elf. And yet, you also saw the rage, the new way of fighting he'd adapted to at least try to end the shadow curse alongside you.

The first time he fought by your side since the loss shook you to your core. It seemed for a second that the gentle giant had disappeared. The deep war cry that left him would have stunned you had you not also been fighting the claws of a shadow monster off.

It left an impression on you. You didn't necessarily dislike his new demeanor, but it did worry you. It simply didn't seem like him.

"Halsin!" You call out to the man as he stands next to lae'zel's tent, sharpening his newly acquired battle axe. "Come look!" You'd spotted the ducklings near the ruin in your camp before, but you'd never pointed them out to anyone before. Something about seeing Halsin with the axe made you want to take his attention off the blasted thing as soon as possible, though.

Your plan was working. He put down the axe, jogging to your side in a way that made your heart flutter. What can you say, the man was big in a way that was very attractive to you, and his normally gentle ways only endeared him to you more.

"And what is it I'm here to look at?" He asks, looking straight at you instead of looking around. The lack of his usual perception skills bothered you a bit, but at the same time, you didn't mind his attention being on you either.

"Look over there," you speak more quietly now that you're closer to the animals, not wanting to scare them off. You softly guide him closer to them when you notice he still hasn't spotted the ducklings. "Thought I saw them in the grass yesterday, but the mother finally had the courage to come out!"

The heat of his skin against yours is nice but you chastise yourself for focusing on that when your mission is distracting him, not yourself.

"Oh, younglings this late in the season? The mother has her work cut out for her if she is to keep all of them safe until adulthood." Halsin's voice seems to soften and you can almost physically feel the connection between him and nature. "Though maybe she should give up while she's ahead, protecting what is dear to you is sometimes...simply impossible."

The pain in his voice is clear to you, his eyes steeling. "There will always be new dangers to threaten it after all," Halsin speaks, a new edge entering his voice. "Always new ways to fail," anger. "Always injustice." Rage.

The increasing volume scares of the mother duck, sending the ducklings scattering across the lake. The seething man next to you seems to be too caught up in his anger to even realize. But you do, you realize maybe more than you should have.

A moments hesitation, maybe you shouldn't be getting this involved in Halsin's feelings and inner turmoil. After all you were part of the cause of it all, you'd failed to protect the Grove just as much as he had. What would you do if he turned this newfound rage to you?

You shake your head to clear your thoughts. This was no time to fear consequences to yourself. Halsin could use your help, so you have to try, even if that possibly leads to your favourite man in camp hating you.

"Halsin," you speak softly, almost like you're attempting to soothe him. "Look." The same words from before, spoken differently but accompanied with the same gentle guiding gesture.

It snaps him out of his inner spiral but the anger is clearly still there, barely even hidden beneath the surface. "I know nature has been rejecting you lately, that Silvanus has all but abandoned you." You subconsciously start stroking the man's back in an attempt to further soothe him as you try to make your point. "But this right now? It's you. You're scaring them off. I'm not sure if there's space in you for all this rage and the power of nature."

His eyes linger on your face for another while after the last words leave your lips before he diverts them back to the ducks. He doesn't speak, and for all your nerves, you're not as scared anymore. His posture became less tense and as he crouched down by the edge of the water, you see the old him again.

His hand reaches the water without disturbing it, and as the ducklings regroup near their mother, she swims up to him. You see the change in him the second she touches his hand. Like a world of weight fell off his shoulders, his burden still heavy, but bearable now.

A soft golden glow emanates from the water now, and before you can question anything, Halsin begins chuckling.

"By Silvanus, you were right! Nature never severed my ties, I was burning them with my own fury." he turns to you, still crouched by the ducks who've started nuzzling in his palm now. "You've returned an important piece of myself to me."

"I only pointed out some ducklings, Halsin. You did the rest." You send a wink his way before turning back to the rest of camp. "Oh! Does this mean I can give that sharpened axe to Karlach? She's been eyeing it," you ask, turning back to Halsin, barely noticing the blush creeping over his face. He merely nods in return, feeling his heart stir at the grin you give him.

You'd been right about the axe, Karlach's face when you handed it over to her could only be described with the same words one would use for an overjoyed child. She'd even vowed to you to keep the ribbon you'd put on the handle clean of blood so she could keep it on there.

Unbeknownst to you, as you were accepting the barbarian's expressions of gratitude, the druid that was admiring you form afar got cornered by the two other elves in camp.

"Say Halsin, if I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you're fawning over our dear little (y/n)." It was Astarion who spoke up first, but by her proximity, Halsin could tell Shadowheart had some words for him as well, most likely less sugar coated than Astarion's.

"She's not just our leader, Halsin," Shadowheart begins, "if you hurt her, we'll be forced to hurt you." The clear threat from the cleric was endearing to him. He liked knowing how much the others cared about you.

"Actually," Astarion continued. "I'm fairly certain if we really needed a druid on our travels, we wouldn't be too hard pressed to find one. Jaheira seems entertaining if nothing else." Astarion's thinly veiled threat was less endearing but the same thought process kept the smile on Halsin's face.

"Thank you both for stepping up like this. Though I assure you, I do not give my heart lightly, and I'm ready to offer her all of it." His eyes returned to you as he spoke, watching you fondly as Karlach lifted you into the air and swung you around.

"There is nothing in this world that could make me hurt her."

#halsin x reader #halsin x f!reader #halsin x reader fluff #halsin x reader angst #halsin #bg3 halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 halsin #here's the 4am thing i was talking about #blaming any bad writing on sleep deprivation cuz i refuse to critically read this

190 notes · View notes

gothic-aesthetic-gal · 19 days ago

Text

Old Scars (Part 11)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

Part 11 -

We continued to lay low and time crawled by. Our movements were largely nocturnal, only venturing out of the Parkview Asylum complex at nightfall to a corner store for essential supplies. As J's injuries were healing he became more and more agitated, pacing up and down like a caged tiger, often muttering to himself. I could tell he wasn't accustomed to having to wait things out, but he was deliberately planning things very carefully - making the smarter play meant allowing his body to heal and letting the dust settle.

I had walled myself off from him again since my lapse of judgement and control on the first night. My robotic interactions with him didn't seem to bother him too much. I figured he either was banking on me coming around eventually, or was too preoccupied with weeding out the traitors in his ranks to care about my sudden change in behaviour.

I was startled awake one night when he shook me out of an otherwise oddly peaceful sleep. Waking up and seeing him looming over me, I scrambled upwards and out of the covers in surprise.

"We're leaving," he said flatly.

"W-what? Why?" I asked, blinking in the dark and clinging protectively to the blankets.

"We've stayed in one spot too long. It's time to move," he added, dropping my little cardboard box on the bed.

I hurried to get up, stashing the knife and screwdriver in my pocket again and he picked up the handgun from his side of the bed.

"We will need to get rid of this," he muttered, sliding it into his waistband for the meantime. I noticed that he was no longer wearing the sling.

"The arm's better now?" I asked tentatively as we replaced the bedding and plastic sheet before quitting the room.

"Near enough," he replied.

We wound our way back down the hallways and staircases to the entrance. I felt relieved to be leaving the godforsaken relic of Gotham's twisted past to rot. Nature was slowly reclaiming it, pulling it back into the earth - and that was the only comfort about the whole place. The car's engine rumbled to life and J put the heating on full blast to try and clear the fogged up windows. It was another bitterly cold night and I could see my own breath.

I soon found myself by a bridge watching J lean way too far over the barrier for anyone with a reasonable fear of their own mortality to hurl the stolen gun down into the darkness of rushing waters below us.

"Even if they find it, the water will wash away traces of any fingerprints and DNA, though they likely won't bother looking to begin with," He announced smugly.

I wondered how many other things had been hurled down into the cold waters below us. Knowing the city we were in, there were innumerable possibilities. People even... I shivered. The cops had condemned me to that sort of fate, I was as expendable as any other piece of junk sitting in a heap down there.

I felt dizzy just looking at the sheer drop as I clung to the barrier between my body and oblivion. As I was being buffeted around on the stormy sea in my mind, I hadn't noticed J stalking over to me like a big cat in the tall grass.

Strong arms linked around my waist from behind and began to lift my feet from the ground. The feeling of being suddenly airborne immediately set me in a panic and I began to struggle. In reality, he had probably barely hoisted me a foot or two off the ground, but I hated heights.

Not heights specifically, but how being exposed to them made me actuely aware of my own mortality and the endless possibilities of pain in the breakable body of a human being.

"Put me down!" I screeched in protest.

"No, I think I need to dispose of the rest of the evidence," he said sternly.

I couldn't tell if he was being serious.

"Please, i'm not joking - just let me go!" I begged.

"You sure about that?" He laughed, suddenly letting me drop.

I lurched forwards towards the railing for a moment, before he caught me by the waist. I jolted even further forward, feeling the railing dig into my ribs as I met it. My feet were on the ground again, and without being lifted higher or climbing over the rail, my centre of gravity was too low to go over it, but I still felt in danger. The shock of thinking for a moment that I really was going over it had felt like a stab to the chest.

My body was screaming at me to get away from the edge of the bridge. My eyes stung with the beginning of tears in the cold breeze. He pressed close to me, trapping me between his body and the barrier, which was digging into my mid-section.

I felt his cheek brush against my temple as he bent his head down to speak into my ear.

"Doesn't it excite you?" He asked.

"That wasn't funny," was all I managed to say, choking on my words.

"Ah come on, I wasn't going to throw you over there, doll. You know that."

"I don't know that. And i'm not good with heights," I said, shaking.

"Listen," he said leaning the full weight of his body against mine, "you're not going anywhere."

The way he said it and the feeling of being pressed between him and the barrier, his arms wrapped tightly around me, did make me feel anchored to the ground. I felt my tense muscles relax a little.

"Just look down," he said.

"I can't."

"Look. Down." He commanded, a little harsher in tone.

Reluctantly, I did as he told me and peered down at the long drop into the murky river below. I felt the fear rise in me again, prickling up my spine.

"Don't look away."

"I - I can't," I protested.

"Don't look away," he reiterated, unwaivering.

I continued to look at the way the river was churning below, muddy and silent. Deceptively quiet from up here, as the immeasurable amounts of water surged out towards the old docks in the distance. If you really had fallen in, and the height of the drop hadn't shattered your bones on impact, you'd have been swept along with such force that drowning seemed inevitable. This wasn't the sort of water you could swim or even tread water in. It was a chaotic force of nature and inspired a kind of morbid awe in me. Strangely enough this wave of feeling seemed to displace the fear.

"Does it make you feel alive?"

"I guess... it's more, like, it's more that it reminds me of how impermanent everything is. Like Parkview crumbling back into the ground... nature endures."

"We live. We die. We rot." He added, his voice rumbling out from his chest like some kind of running engine. I thought more about it as I continued to scan the view below.

Suddenly, he startled my sense of relative peace by separating from me and hopping over the barrier. His feet were now on the ledge as he stood facing the bridge, his back to the sheer drop into the river.

"What are you doing?"

He ignored my frantic question as he positioned himself directly in front of me.

I gripped the cold metal of the only boundary separating us tighter, whitening my knuckles. The disturbing thought crossed my mind for the briefest of seconds that I could push him and as my eyes met his, he had a knowing look on his face. He slowly pulled both of my hands away from their tightly locked grip on the bridge and placed them on his chest.

My head was spinning. Why would he make himself so vulnerable like that? Did he have total conviction that I wouldn't push him, or did he enjoy the slim possibility that I might do it? I searched his face for some kind of answer but didn't find anything conclusive. I stayed frozen like that for a while, the two of us standing on the edge of oblivion.

When we hit the road again, we drove in silence, until the car rolled into a run-down motel on the fringes of the city limits. J wound a scarf around him and pulled it up over his scars. I shook my hair loose around my face so that my own were less immediately obvious.

"Name?" Squinted the wrinkled old lady behind the reception desk as we stood opposite her - looking dishevelled.

A cloud of thick cigarette smoke seemed to hang around her as she tapped her latest into the ashtray.

In a panic, I blurted out an answer.

"Luna."

"Surname?"

Again I panicked. I had to say something and fast.

"...Tick," I mumbled out.

J shot me a sideways glance as if to say, 'you've just fucked this up for us'.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly feeling bone dry.

"Luna... Tick?" She said dubiously, peering up at me over her reading glasses.

"Yes, my parents were pretty cruel for that one, don't you think?" I laughed nervously.

I somehow managed to convincingly pull off years of frustration that the name would have wrought. She smiled weakly.

"Well, maybe it's not all that bad, Luna is quite a pretty name..." she offered, clearly trying to offset the awkwardness she had brought by failing to hide her surprise.

I nodded sheepishly.

"And who is this?" She nodded towards J, still with the scarf wound over the bottom half of his face.

"That's my fiancée. He's mute, i'm afraid."

I looped my arm through his, trying to make our soon-to-be-married status more convincing.

"Oh," now she looked deeply piteous, "just sign here please."

I scribbled "L Tick" and she tore off the hand written receipt for me. Then I put down the crumpled bills for a two night stay and she handed over the key.

"Here ya go sweetheart. It's back outside, up the stairs and second on the left, you both take care now," she waved us off hurriedly.

Once we got inside the room and shut the door behind us, J erupted into laughter. The suddeness of his outburst made me nearly jump out of my skin.

"You," he pointed a finger at me, "I thought you had us rumbled, but somehow you got her to believe that!" He said, shaking me by the shoulders before he finally relented, unwinding the scarf and throwing himself down on the bed - still reeling with the odd aftershock of laughter. I smiled faintly as I hung up his coat on the hook by the door.

"Well, who knows if she really believed it, maybe she just didn't care..." I sighed, sitting beside him on the bed.

I looked around us. The room was like a 70s time capsule; beige and brown everything, from the wooden funishings to the thick blackout curtains. I could see through an open door that the bathroom was tiny and avocado in colour scheme. I was pretty sure from the cigarette burns on the bedside dressers and the yellowed ceiling that not one of the room's previous occupants had obeyed the faded no-smoking sign plastered to the door. Still, compared to Parkview it was warm. It had electricity and hot water, two things I had taken for granted until I was left without.

I felt a great swell of pity whenever I thought about how many people in the city were at the mercy of the cold. The homeless, the people forced into the squats and slums of the narrows. People left to die, preferably unseen and silent, in the minds of the men and women at the top of the ladder - heights you could only reach with blood money, corruption, and exploitative wealth, whether you were born into it, or a newcomer.

As I got under the covers and clung to my side of the bed, trying desperately to calm my frazzled brain, the girl from the dress store appeared there. I wondered what she was doing right now and I hoped she was happy and safe. Maybe she was also tucked up in bed somewhere. I briefly imagined that she wasn't plagued by the hostage situation... but she probably was. From pure physical exhaustion I finally drifted into the darkness of sleep, long after J's occasional bouts of snoring indicated to me that he was dead to the world already.

I stirred a couple of times in the night, struggling to calm my restless mind. At almost 4am I woke up, suddenly cold. J had his back to me and seemed to be mumbling something as he was hogging all of the duvet. I reached across to try and drag some of it back, hoping he'd just notice and loosen his grip. Instead, my increasingly frustrated tug of war caused him to roll over half onto me as the bedding finally gave in my direction. A heavy arm was now draped haphazardly across my torso. I realised that he was still in deep sleep as I watched the corner of his mouth twitch, and he mumbled something unintelligible again, his lips barely even parting to make words. I was fixated - seeing him this way was so strange.

In sleep, his face looked deceptively innocent and I wondered what he could be dreaming about. Who was he really? Before he'd appeared in Gotham, did he have a normal life? Everyone has a past... even people like him didn't just materialise out of thin air. Psychologically speaking, there was almost always an escalation. A spiral. A 'ramping up'. Often, though not always, there would be catalysts. Something significant. Endless possibilities ran through my thoughts.

But trying to apply these lenses to someone as mysterious and confusing as the man beside me was fruitless. Trying to gather any kid of tangible piece of his past was like trying to outrun nightfall, or trying to retain grains of sand spilling out from between clenched fingers. It felt like he really had just appeared one day, like the batman, a kind of mythical figure. Perhaps he was some kind of vengeful spirit, sowing chaos and disorder, or a harbringer of bleaker times ahead for this already bleak city of rot. Maybe he had rolled in on a desert storm, like the villain in an old Western, or one of the plagues of Egypt. It was hard to see any pieces of the man standing at ground zero...

I could feel his breath tickle my shoulder as he shifted a little, leaning still closer. I took in all the minute details of his unpainted face. The curve of his jaw, the shape of his brow, the delicate eyelashes... and his scars. I was still entranced, gazing at the little forked one which rose up into his lower lip, when his voice pierced the silence.

"You know," he murmured, eyes still closed, "it's a little creepy to stare at someone while they sleep."

I immediately felt defensive and embarassed to have been caught. He opened his intense brown eyes to look at me, staring into my soul for a moment. I sheepishly tried to look away but I felt paralysed under his gaze.

"I didn't mean to," I protested.

"Don't lie to me, or to yourself. What's the point?" He sighed, closing his eyes.

I wanted to protest, but he had got me there, so the words wouldn't come when I tried to summon them. He yawned and stretched out lazily, before returning to the exact same position - with his arm draped across my body. This surprised me, as did any trace of behaviour that could be considered affectionate, not least of all from him. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the ceiling, but I didn't move him away from me - a kind of fence-sitting gesture. Testing the waters, he moved closer, laying his cold hand flat against my warm ribs where my t-shirt had ridden up and planting his head against my shoulder. I didn't know what to make of this so I stayed perfectly still in his half embrace. He was silent for a while, and I thought he might have drifted back into sleep until I felt him bury his face further into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. My skin felt as though it was burning with each breath he exhaled against it.

"Why do you do it?" He murmured.

"Do what?" I frowned.

"Why do you keep fighting for restraint?"

"I, I don't want to lose control, to be powerless."

I felt his lips trail up to my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Does following the rules really make you the one in control?"

He was mumbling the words against my neck and I was struggling to stay focused on the conversation rather than the physical responses he was stirring in me.

"I don't know... my mind is so tired. For once I want to let myself not know."

"The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules," he sighed, as he pulled me into a tighter embrace.

"Some rules are bullshit, sure, but some are important. Some shouldn't be broken," I pressed back.

He let out a hum of derision, but it sounded lighthearted rather than angry - It didn't feel like he was suggesting I was stupid for disagreeing.

I thought for a moment about my apartment, and the life I had vanished from. What was there to go back to? Even if I chose to run from him, I was likely left without a job and the bills wouldn't stop while I scrambled to find a replacement. Even if I took the first thing I could get my hands on, the wage would be pathetic. I was at serious risk of ending up on the streets, or having to take to something illegal in one way or another to keep my head above water. To make matters worse, chances were high that the crooked cops would try to seek me out.

"Would you kill me if I tried to leave?" I finally spoke.

He seemed to give it some thought as he sucked air through his teeth and drummed his fingers against my ribs.

"No," he answered finally.

"Why not?" I asked, feeling more uncomfortable than relieved.

He shurgged non-comittally.

"Would it make you feel better if I did want to kill you?" He asked mockingly.

"No - I don't know!" I snapped.

"Are you going to leave?"

"No... I don't have anything to go back to, and I think those cops might be out for my blood," I sighed rubbing my forehead to try and relieve the stress headache I was getting.

"Well, the GCPD don't tend to like it if you cause bodily harm to any of their officers, even if they are as twisted as a corkscrew, speaking from experience," he grinned.

"If I stay, what will you do? It feels like no one in this city does anything out of good will. Everything has a price."

"If you stay, the only thing I'll ask of you is that you don't interfere with my plans."

"That sounds suspiciously easy..."

He looked gravely serious for a moment.

"And what if that pesky moral compass of yours tells you what I'm doing is wrong?" His voice had dropped low into a more sinister register again, and I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end.

"I thought you didn't like rules?" I muttered, wondering if I could make such a promise.

"Some rules are important," he echoed my own words.

"Okay, how about this? If I can't hack it, I'll walk away. I won't interfere, and you let me go."

He pursed his lips as he mulled it over.

"Hm, those aren't the terms of the deal I just laid out."

"Well, I like to keep you on your toes," I teased, hoping he would accept my compromise.

"Alright (y/n), we'll play it your way - but I mean it. If you break your promise, I might just be forced to break mine."

I knew by this he meant his promise not to kill me, but it didn't bother me as much as it should have. Maybe he was right that I did have a few screws loose. Abruptly, he slid his other arm underneath my body and pulled me into an almost crushing embrace. In the coils of the serpent I should have felt afraid, but I felt protected from the harshness of the outside world. I found myself playing with his fingers as everything began to slow down. Even my ceaselessly noisy brain seemed to be winding down enough for me to drift into sleep. I couldn't remember a time where anyone had held me like this, or a time when I had let anyone...

Link to the masterlist for other chapters:

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag list:

If I forgot anyone or you want to be removed from the tag list - please let me know! 💕

@dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd

@dance-like-a-clown

@furisodespirit

@heath-ledger-jokers-wife

@sunfyrejoker

@lightsabergirl

@clowning--around

@ruby-da-archangel

@harleenqvinn

@helchronicles

@ostricx

@knoepfl

@jumpingjellyfishhaha

@nicklet94

31 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 2 years ago

Text

Wish You Were Sober ~ HHJ

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

GENRE: non!idol au, drunken confessions, the morning after, fluffy, cute, clingy and adorable hyunjin,

PAIRING: hyunjin x fem!reader

⤜MASTERLIST

Watching from the safety of your car you watched as Chan struggled to get Hyunjin out of the club and over to your car as Hyunjin dramatically yelled that he wasn't done for the night.

"WE NEED TO PARTY MORE!" He screamed louder than you'd ever heard Hyunjin acting before, you smirked to yourself as you slowly got out of the car and shook your head. The boys were out celebrating tonight because they were getting to graduate early and they wanted to have a big party before they had to go into the "real world". Hyunjin - who was your roommate for the last four years - seemed to be the most excited to go on this night out as it had been the first time he'd let himself enjoy his time out. Mostly he would spend his time studying or in extra classes doing his best to stay focussed on what was most important to him.

"I think you've had more than enough," You told Hyunjin while giggling and making your way over to him, wrapping one of his arms over your shoulder and helping Chan get Hyunjin toward your car.

"Yn?! You're here! Let's go and have a drink!" Hyunjin yelled in your ear, you put the yelling down to the pounding music that was blasting from inside the club and you laughed a little.

"I don't think they'll let me in. I'm in my ugly PJs tonight Hyunjinnie," You cooed a little as Hyunjin finally reached your car, leaning against the door and looking you up and down as his tongue slowly ran along his bottom lip. A simple action that made your entire body burn with desire as soon as it happened, that was the thing between you and Hyunjin.

The two of you were roommates but you also had the biggest crush on him in the world, you figured it would eventually disappear and you'd just feel friendly toward your roommate but that time never came.

"Nothing you wear is ugly. Nothing," Hyunjin slurred a little on his words but you smiled warmly at him, opening the car door before helping him sit on the passenger seat.

"That's sweet of you but-" You tried to speak but before you could even finish your sentence Hyunjin was shaking his head at you and turning to face Chan who was doing his best to hold back his laughter.

"It's true. Isn't it true Hyung?! Don't I tell you how beautiful Yn is?!" Your whole body was burning at the sudden attention that you were getting from Hyunjin. It was true, Chan knew that Hyunjin had the biggest crush on you which was half of the reason he had called for you to come and collect him rather than a taxi. He'd hoped that in Hyunjin's drunken state, he would somehow manage to let it slip that he was madly in love with you and neither of you would tip-toe around your feelings anymore.

"Hyunjin, you're drunk, you don't know what you're saying." You didn't know if you were trying to convince yourself or him at this point but you couldn't take the compliments. Even when he would compliment you when he was sober you found it hard to accept them or even listen to them. Maybe it was because you found him completely and utterly breathtaking and couldn't possibly believe he would think the same way about you but it was hard for you to accept his compliments.

"Yes, I do. Hyung! Tell her," Hyunjin whined ever so slightly, fidgeting in his seat like a toddler who couldn't get his own way.

"He does compliment you fairly often," Chan smirks as he gets into the back of the car, leaving you to get into the driver's side as you bit down on your lip. As soon as you sat down and did your seatbelt up Hyunjin took your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned you to look in his direction,

"Exactly, I find you irresistible." Hyunjin laughed a little, looking at you with hunger in his eyes while your whole body burnt as you slowly started up the car. It was going to be one long car journey if this was how Hyunjin was planning on spending his time with you.

The car ride had been painfully slow between all of the flirtatious remarks that were being spat in your direction, along with the small touches that Hyunjin was giving to you. It started with holding your hand and then his hand would casually fall onto your thigh as he slowly rubbed circles into the fabric of your PJs.

"You're upset with me," Hyunjin pouted as you tucked him into his bed, smiling weakly as you brushed his hair out of his face and shook your head at him. There was no way you could ever be upset with him, you were just doing your best to bite back all of the feelings tonight was bringing up for you.

"No, I'm not." You shook your head at him, you smiled weakly a little though and it still didn't do much to convince Hyunjin that you weren't mad at him.

"You are. You're upset and I demand to know why." He cried out as he sat up straight, staring at you as he waited for you to say something.

"You demand?" You laughed weakly, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at him as he nodded his head at you, placing his hands on his hips as he smirked.

"Yes."

"Sorry, My king." You called out dramatically while doing half a bow but Hyunjin turned your head up to look at him, he didn't want this to be some kind of joke. If he'd done something to upset you he wanted to know what it was so he could make sure never to do it again in the future.

"Did I do something wrong? Is it because I've been complimenting you...Because everything I said is true." He said slowly, running his thumb along your skin as you shook your head doing your best to get his hands off you.

"Hyunjin, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying." You laughed weakly, you didn't want to put too much thought into how he was acting right now in case all of this was just him being lonely and drunk.

"Would a drunk person tell the girl he's been madly in love with for four years that he'd been madly in love with her?" You frowned at him, he'd never told you he loved someone before. As far as you knew Hyunjin had been far too busy focusing on his studies to even think of someone romantically,

"You love someone? Who?" There was a sudden pang of jealousy spreading through you as you thought of Hyunjin with another girl and you hated yourself for it. Hyunjin wasn't yours but you didn't want him to have anyone else.

"You." You groaned and shoved him back to laying down, shaking your head at him as you scoffed a little.

"See, you're drunk. You have no idea what you're saying." You pulled a blanket from the bottom of the bed and laid it over the top of the duvet.

"I know exactly what I'm saying. I just hate that it's taken me four years and a whoooollleeeee lot of alcohol for me to ever be able to say anything to you." He mumbled sadly but you shook your head at him and tucked him back into the bed.

"We'll talk in the morning IF you remember." You tapped his nose softly but he took your hand in his and shook his head,

"We WILL talk in the morning." He smirked at you, quickly kissing your cheek as you bent down to give him a hug, your whole body aflame as you left his room for the night.

In fact, the next morning he remembered and while he had been embarrassed about the way his feelings had come out he wasn't upset that he'd finally told you the truth. It had been years and he'd gotten sick of holding back the secret, every day he'd wanted to tell you the truth.

"Hyunjin? I thought you'd be too hungover for food." You laughed awkwardly not knowing what he did and didn't remember from the night before and you weren't sure how to act around him right now.

"I wanted to make breakfast as an "I'm sorry" for last night," Your heart plunged to the floor as you thought about it. He must have remembered and instantly regret everything he'd told you.

"Oh...O-Oh, right. Yeah," You scratched the back of your neck and shook your head trying your best to come up with some lie to get you out of there as quickly as humanly possible.

"I'm not hungry. I promised Minho I'd go and help him pack." It was a lie, you knew it and Hyunjin knew it since Minho would never let anyone else help him.

"Yn," Hyunin called out as you backed out of the room, you did your best to be quicker than Hyunjin but he trapped your body between him and the wall of the living room.

"I meant every word I said to you last night. Every...Single...word. I love you," He ran his hand over your cheek as he cupped your face in his embrace, your face burning up against his touch.

"I love you too." You whispered, swallowing the nervous lump that had formed in your throat and he smirked at you, he enjoyed watching your squirm because of him.

"The breakfast is the apology for the way the feelings had come out. I should have been confident enough to come to you while I was sober,"

"I wish you were sober last night, I would have confessed too." You giggled a little as he winked at you,

"It's not too late to confess now," He wiggled his eyebrows as he snaked his arm around your waist and began to lead you back to the kitchen so that the two of you could talk some more about everything.

tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @army24--7 @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin imagines

537 notes · View notes

artzysyam · 1 year ago

Text

My take of Jason's reaction after Danny throwing hands at Joker in locked cell

Based on @xysidhequeen AU part 15

Jason blinked his eyes open slowly and groaned. It had been Nox, the blasted sleep ghost, who had forced him to sleep. When Jason asked about Danny, all Nox gave him was a mysterious smile.

“That fucking Sandman…” he muttered under his breath as he reached out for his phone, which thankfully was fully charged. He'd grudgingly admit that Nocturne had been a good father figure to Danny in some ways—though it still annoyed him how the man would always tease them about their possible relationship.

Jason's eyes widened in disbelief as he read the headline of Gotham News on his phone - "Authorities Stumped! Joker Assaulted In Locked Cell! Corruption In Arkham?" He ran a hand over his face, still struggling to process what he had just read. Then, loud stomping and shouting from across the hallway caught his attention.

"DANNY JAMES NIGHTINGALE!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?"

Sam sounded furious. Jason jumped out of bed, throwing on a red tank top and black boxer shorts. His heart raced with anticipation as he heard Sam kick Danny's door open. He couldn't believe what his best friend had done - Danny must have throwing hands at Joker while he was locked up in Arkham Asylum. As much as part of him wanted to celebrate Joker being incapacitated, Jason knew that this could mean another prison break and it would be even more dangerous now that he had been in Gotham for over a week. He suppressed the urge to dance with joy at the thought of finally getting revenge on the Joker and instead decided to remain quiet so Tucker wouldn't add one more picture of him in his blackmail collection.

Sam balled her fists and slammed the door shut with a resounding thud. She shot an annoyed glare at Jason before pointing her finger in his direction. “Your boyfriend—you handle this situation!” she snapped, leaving before he could deny their relationship status.

Alone in the hallway, Jason's gaze fell to Danny's door. His stomach fluttered with anticipation as he wrestled between yelling at his crush or embracing him with a hug. After a few moments of internal deliberation, he decided a hug was in order and opened the door.

Letting out a gentle chirrup of contentment from his core, Jason saw Danny stir and wake up from his nest of blankets. He looked exhausted.

"What..." Danny slurred, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Asswipe, I saw the news and..." Jason said before hoisting himself onto Danny's bed and enveloping him in a tight hug. "Thanks for making sure that fucking clown stayed put."

Jason felt Danny's body humming with relief and appreciation as he nuzzled closer into his chest.

Danny, his eyes heavy with sleep, murmured a sleepy “Anything for you, Jaybird.” Jason smiled. This cuddle time was a reward he thought they both deserved in the happiest of circumstances. He tucked them further under the thick, warm blankets and laughed softly as Danny made a satisfied chirping sound before snuggling closer against him, looping an arm around his strong waist and resting his head on Jason’s chest. Gently, Jason encased Danny in the embrace of his toned arms to keep him from falling off the bed and secure in his loving protection. As one, their contentment washed over them like a warm wave and they drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

#the king and his red knight au #jason todd #dcxdp #dead on main #snippets #tkahrk #Jason Todd wants to dance but can't because Tucker have Blackmail library on everyone #instead Jason reward Danny with a hug and cuddle session #platonic cuddling #or is it something else :3c #two gay halfas pining over each #ghosts is ever patient #but the living cant

273 notes · View notes

greenleaf4stuff · 2 months ago

Note

It’s New Year’s Eve in Middle Earth and midnight approaches.

Who is grabbing whom for a smooch? How does it go down?

If you can give three pairings that’s great, no limit though 😉 repeats are fine too.

Hi and thank you so much @gauntletgirlie for sending me this lovely ask game! It is truly the time of giving (smooches) <3 Again, lots of fun to think up some kissing scenarios for this one! I'll put them behind the cut again, and as the prompt implies, there be kissing ahead! All of these are Adar-related btw :) (I wrote these down in like an hour) (also each ask game the answers are getting longer oops)

The pairings:

Adar/Celebrimbor/Elrond

Adar/Celebrimbor (established, modern!AU)

Adar/Elrond (canon!AU)

...

Adar/Celebrimbor/Elrond

Elrond glanced between the older elf and the uruk, a look of indecision on his face. "Um-"

There wasn't a way to kiss both of them at the same time, was there? Not without crushing their noses and possibly knocking their teeth against each other, at least. But who should he kiss? He couldn't deny either of them. He just couldn't!

They might both be different in character, temperament, appearance, but he liked them equally. He'd just told them as much recently, for Eru's sake! He couldn't choose one over the other now! Not for something important as this!

He heard counting in the background, a countdown not into the New Year but to his own doom, or so it felt.

In a panic, he did the only thing he thought he could do-

And grabbed the back of both their heads in each of his hands, and gently but insistently moved their faces together until they kissed (with a look of surprise on their faces, but even so-).

'There! Problem solved!' he thought, adrenaline briefly surging and then falling in relief. (He knew they wanted each other too. They'd discussed this. The only thing they hadn't discussed was that blasted New Year's kiss.)

"Oh no, wait- my bad-," he suddenly heard behind himself. It was Círdan. "I miscalculated it seems! It's actually still one minute to midnight. Well, that gives us the chance to count once more, doesn't it?"

Elrond felt himself blanch slightly as Adar and Celebrimbor turned towards him, eyebrows raised. "What was that?" Adar asked. It didn't sound accusing, but oddly curious. A bit amused.

"Erm-"

"I suppose he thought this was a clever solution. Have us kiss so he wouldn't have to choose one of us over the other," Celebrimbor deduced and Elrond silently cursed himself because his friend knew him too well to not have figured it out. Again.

"Oh, is that so?" Adar asked, and he sounded just as amused as Celebrimbor had. "Well too 'bad' that we get a second chance then."

Elrond blinked at them in surprise and question, and only realised what was going on when he felt two hands at the back of his head just as the countdown neared "3...2...1" again.

...it was, indeed, a mess of noses knocking together and teeth clicking and even a bit of spit getting smeared, between the three of them. Messy, uncoordinated, but somehow - it still worked out.

Elrond moaned in delight, smiled into the kiss, and let the other two pull him closer into an embrace.

Adar/Celebrimbor (established, modern!AU)

The party had nearly reached it's apex, which meant Adar was close to having reached his maximum amount of social interactions for the night and was beginning to eagerly await going home with his fiancé.

As it stood, he couldn't find Celebrimbor amidst the crowd of people as he scanned it, making him frown. Galadriel must have seen the way he wandered around searching for the smith, because she caught his eye and motioned towards the kitchen with her glass of champagne, a small smile on her face.

Adar followed her pointing, and indeed, he could hear puttering and the sound of dishes getting cleaned coming from there - in combination with some truly awful music from the radio. He exchanged a mildly exasperated glance with the blonde elf, before he thanked her with a nod and walked into the kitchen.

Celebrimbor stood at the sink, garishly golden rubber gloves on his hands - where did Gil-Galad even *find* those things!? - as he hummed along to some corny pop music while he scrubbed at a plate from their dinner earlier.

Adar shook his head, but his expression was one of fondness. He turned down the radio to announce himself and stepped up behind the elf, wrapping his arms around the other's waist, head coming to rest on his fiancé's shoulder in an easy display of intimacy.

"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" he murmured, and pressed a kiss to Celebrimbor's cheek. The smith smiled as turned over his shoulder to look at the uruk. "You know you don't have to clean those dishes now, do you?"

"Hm," Celebrimbor replied, and leant back into the embrace. "I needed a bit of time away from the noise I suppose. Thought nobody would begrudge me that if I did something useful."

"Clever," Adar admired him, and his smile turned soft. "Remarkably selfless, too."

"Well, I suppose you'd know about all that as well, wouldn't you?" They stared at each other lovingly. They were so enarmoed with one another, they almost missed it when loud, shouted counting began in the living room.

"10...9...8..."

They didn't have to ask. Aside from a moment of surprise, nothing much changed. They remained as they were.

"7...6...5.."

Their noses brushed, eyes half-lidded. Neither had seen the other look so soft before. "A good way to end the year, don't you think?" Celebrimbor murmured.

"4...3...2..."

"Couldn't imagine a better one," Adar answered, and smiled as a leant forward.

"1...0!"

They kissed. Celebrimbor still had his hands in the soapy water of the sink as they stood in the kitchen amidst dirty dishes and empty cups, god-awful music quietly playing in the background. The position of the embrace would give the smith a slightly sore neck later, but-

Neither of them cared for the moment. This, right here - was perfect.

Adar/Elrond (canon!AU)

New Year's was a surprisingly official and festive affair in Lindon, Adar had quickly learned. He and his children had rarely celebrated the turning of the year before, but their treaty with the elves was beginning to influence their traditions.

Unlike the elves with their harps and flutes and harmonious singing, their festive modes of dress and expertly prepared feasts, the uruk had taken a much more grounded approach to the festivities.

Adar could hear them belt out yet another battle song, and judging by the barrels that got rolled towards the improvised 'tavern', the drink was flowing freely as well. Everywhere he went, he saw celebrations of the peace, open fires that cooked delicious-smelling stews and roasted meat, groups of uruk gathered together.

He himself would let his children enjoy the time of levity - but he found himself too tired to join in. The noise, how they all wanted to draw him to their sides so he might join them in song and drink, it was - just too much. As much as he loved them.

He paused in surprise when he finally arrived at his own tent and found he had a visitor.

"What brings you here?" He asked, surprised to find Elrond at the entrance. He hoped the other knew the visit was not an unwelcome one - the two of them had danced around one another for weeks now. Adar had hoped to see the other again, but had expected the peredhel to spend this time with his family and friends in Lindon.

Elrond smiled and offered a greeting. "My friend. It is good to see you," he paused. Adar noticed the other was breathing heavily and had a flushed face, as if he'd hurried to get here. "I- there is something important I wished to do. I feared I might have been too late."

Adar immediately raised his eyebrows and focused on the herald in concern. "Is something the matter?"

The other waved him off, but gently so. "No, no- nothing that should alarm you. Just something that was important to me, is all-"

Adar wanted to ask another question, but the uruk in the wider vicinity around them erupted into loud counting - it seemed the turning of the year was almost complete.

The leader of the uruk startled slightly when he felt gentle, wind-chilled hands on his face, and turned towards the herald only to find the other looking at him with hopeful eyes.

With a start, he understood. "May I kiss you?" How brave this one was, to hurry over here and place all his hopes on a kiss.

"I'd like nothing more," the uruk breathed back, and framed Elrond's face with his own hands, mindful of the gauntlet, before he pulled the other closer.

Elrond was smiling into the kiss, Adar could tell. His face felt chilled too, and Adar thought that he would like nothing more than to take the herald inside and wrap him into warg furs before offering him a warm drink and some food.

But that could wait. For now, there was only the press of soft lips on his own, hands that held him gently as if he was precious, and something blooming in his own chest as the countdown ran down to midnight.

29 notes · View notes