#i mean how dare you think about another man when he's right there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flokali · 2 years ago

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♢ I love you, I own you | Tartaglia

warnings: yandere, dub-con, penetration, coming inside, unprotected, undertones of misogyny, toxic parents, manipulation and gaslighting, obsessive, paranoid, and possessive behavior, toxic mindset, coerced submission, getting walked into, bribing, murder, torture, self-doubt and insecurities (mc), arranged marriage, implied financial insecurity, implied virginity (mc & childe), spoilers for tartaglia’s story/lore, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unreliable narration (at times). ask to tag.

pairing: afab! fem! reader (bottom) x childe (top)

word count: 13.3k

a/n: ahhh; hopefully this is good >_< i love him so much… after almost a year, ‘tis done ^_^

part two: here

— 18+

Childe is horrified and incredibly angered, if not down right homicidal, when he finds out your parents planned to have you engaged to a no-name Fatui henchman, it’s only a further blow to his already weakened heart when the news don’t come from you nor your family but from the loud mouths of your “soon to be fiancé” and his goons. His blue eyes widen and he feels himself grow lightheaded, his stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out and, oh Celestia, he thinks he’s going to puke.

While perhaps not the most befitting behavior for a Harbinger, Ajax couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he had first heard the mention of your name and while he’s extremely glad he did, - he’s silently thanking the Tsaritsa for telling him now so he could do something - he almost wishes he didn’t as he’s now forced to go back to his office and wordlessly deal with the intrusive thoughts racing through his head.

All he can think about are the countless pinky promises you’d both made to each other during your childhood, the coos of both of your parents when they had first heard him declare his love for you, the feeling of your hands against his when you kissed his cheek goodbye before the fateful day he stumbled down the abyss, the way you and only you were the sole thing keeping him together during his time there, the way you sobbed in relief when he first approached you after emerging victorious from hell itself; did those moments mean nothing? Had only he been impacted by them? Had you forgotten his love for you - your love for him?

No, he thought as he marched to his desk, there’s no way - you had to have felt it too, you must have kept those memories deep in your heart as did he. You both were meant to be, childhood sweethearts, one soul in two different bodies, created from the same stars and carved out from the same earth, put into the same world to meet and love each other from your first life to the last. You were his and he was yours, you were one and the same, you were lovers - it was written in the stars and in his very flesh, it was a fact as true as his love for you.

His breathing is ragged and he can’t contain his shaking body, he never should have trusted your parents - they obviously didn’t have your best interest in mind, if they cared about you at all they would have never promised your hand to another, they would’ve realized he, Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, he was the best man for you.

Granted, they hadn’t heard from good little Ajax for years, not ever since he’d left for the Fatui - he only ever kept consistent correspondence with you and his family - but that’s no excuse, there was no excuse for their actions, they were disgusting pests that were blinded by greed. How much money had they taken to accept such a disgusting agreement? 500,000 Mora? No, that was too cheap… 1,000,000? 2,000,000? More? Maybe it was in the tens of millions, there was no way you were being given away for less, right?

“Ahhh,” the ginger sank in his chair, his trembling hands finding his hair and pulling at the soft strands in frustration, “what do I do now? What should I do? What should I do? Shit… this can’t be happening.”

He wanted to cry and destroy everything. Destroy that man, no… that poor, pathetic excuse of a man that had dared try and stake his claim on you. This wasn’t your fault, there was no way you knew – never once in your letters had you mentioned a lover nor a wedding, you would have told him - would have begged for him to save you - if you did know you must have cried and begged for them to not marry you to that bastard, sobbed as you muttered his - Ajax’s - name like a mantra, begging to be taken by him and finally wed to the true love of your life.

It felt like the world was falling and crushing him alive.

How could they do this to you? How dare they do this to you? To him, to you, to the both of you.

He could just have the man killed, sent on a suicide mission disguised as an essential step for gnosis hunting - maybe even under the pretense of a promotion, he was sure he’d accept anything, he was a no name soldier that would probably be forgotten by the next round of recruitment -, and make your parents go bankrupt, burn their house and have their businesses fail before delivering the final blow of jailing them due to fraud or maybe even executed under claims of treason; the thoughts calmed his rapid heart, if only slightly.

They needed to be taught a lesson, they shouldn’t put their dirty, greedy hands where they didn’t belong.

But no, that’d be too light of a punishment, and there would be so many loose threads - he’d rather be on good terms with your family - if only for you -, could it maybe be a misunderstanding? It could be, right? They were like family to him once, after all, and a part of him hates the idea of them having grown so vile and corrupted, they were supposed to be his in-laws and he’d rather his children have both sets of grandparents. Not to mention, you’d be so sad to see them gone, even if there was a chance they were worth nothing more than dirt.

No, that wouldn’t do, his wife couldn’t be sad - he’d confront them as soon as physically possible, question their actions and propose a better arrangement, and depending on their answer they would become the Fatui’s latest show of loyalty to the Tsaritsa or officially join the perfect future he’d dreamed of with you.

Yes, that’s what he’d do, his shaking heart finally comes to a rest as he begins to plan his trip. If things went south he could easily have his initial plan executed quickly, and while he doesn’t particularly like the idea of having to plan their execution arrangements, justice wasn’t always pleasant.

It’d be alright, surely all of this could be resolved through a mature, adult conversation. And if not, then Childe wasn’t a Harbinger for naught.

It takes him a few days until he’s able to find the time to meet up with your parents, though, honestly, it’s more like barging into your home unannounced and demanding answers. He has a job - a serious job, after all, one that demands his presence and takes true effort and work, unlike that shitty excuse of meat your parents wanted you to marry - and he had matters to attend to – after all forging evidence for a possible execution isn’t easy and he wants to be prepared, it was one of the few times where he wanted to come in with a proper battle plan.

He had it all planned out if things went south, a few reports here, some testimonies there, a lengthy transcript or two, a handful of bank reports, and soon your parents would look like traitors to the crown and be sentenced to public execution.

All he had to do was confront them in person. He wasn’t sure if your parents would be home, he hoped so as to not prolong such a troublesome process any longer, but he was willing to wait. He was getting his answers today, one way or another; he’d free you from this horrid arrangement and whisk you away to give you the life you truly deserved.

Luckily for him, you live in the same neighborhood as you always had, so no time had to be wasted searching for your family’s whereabouts. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to come back to his childhood neighborhood and he can’t help the giddiness in his heart as he strolls through memory lane while making his way down the streets you two shared a childhood in, it looked almost the same - a few differences here and there like a new house or someone’s place having been renovated, but it felt just like home. His parents had long since moved houses into a fancier side of the city, the money Childe managed to bring home as a Harbinger long since allowing them the luxuries that had once felt impossible, but he almost wishes they hadn’t as he spots your family’s humble abode, his heart longing back to the days of your shared youth.

It’s a two story house, built with strong wood made to resist Snezhnaya’s harshest winters and the cold summers, the roof was made of strong wood and designed so that snow would fall as to not sink, the front yard still held the swing you’d begged your parents for on your tenth birthday, the mailbox was still slightly crooked from the time he had head-butted it when racing you back from the park, the flowerbed still held the same flowers and plants that were able to withstand Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, the tree somehow still seemed to harbor the countless balls you two had gotten stuck there back when you were in your preteens; it was like it had been frozen in time, the only true difference he could spot was your older figure sitting on the front steps looking as if you were waiting for something, maybe someone; maybe him.

His heart stops as do his steps, he’d been so busy the last couple of years he hadn’t been able to pay you a visit in person, he’d had a few soldiers patrol the area before, but nothing could prepare Ajax for the surge of emotions that coursed through his body as he laid eyes on you.

Your body was taller and you had grown into your features, but you were still you - your eyes still shined with the hope and love he’d long since lost while your lips were still as tempting as he remembered. There was no doubt it was you, he’d recognize you anywhere; no matter how much you changed. But you looked sad, your lips downcast, your eyes filled with tears, and your frame hunched over, it was clear you were cold by the shaking of your frame but you didn’t falter - still sitting down with a flimsy blanket wrapped around you as you waited.

The scene made him pick up his pace, he was desperate to reach your side; what had happened? Why did you look so sad? Were you hurt? His men had not informed him of anything happening that would explain the crystal like tears that pooled in your eyes, just the sight was enough to have his blood boiling and fists shaking as he wondered who was responsible for the pain you so openly displayed.

Have you found out about Andrei and your parents’ sins? The thought of them being the reason for your sorrow made him grow dizzy with rage, but the negative feelings can only last so long as he has you in his sights. Your mere presence seemed to lull his emotional heart into a more tranquil state.

“[Y/N]?” Childe asked, he was only a few feet away from you but he didn’t dare walk closer, “Is that you?”

“A-Ajax?” Your eyes widened, hope evident in your voice and it’s like all traces of the previous pain in your face had vanished, “Oh, Ajax!”

You hesitate for a second before breaking into a smile when you realize it really was him. It almost looks like you want to burst into tears and he’s sure he probably doesn’t look any better, seeing you in the flesh after so long felt like a dream and as if every moment without you until now had been but a nightmare, he can’t help himself from running towards you and throwing himself into your arms. He looks older, definitely more mature, his is build stronger now - probably due to the fighting and training he endured as a Harbinger, you thought - but his smile was still the same, perhaps a bit empty but it still filled your heart with a warmth that could battle Snezhnaya’s unforgiving cold. It felt right to have him back in your arms as if time had never been cruel and taken him away from you, you could have sweared your worries disappeared the moment you took in his warmth.

His white coat floats through the air as he lands between your arms, and you can feel his smile in your chest as he hugs you tight.

He was finally home, he thought, in your arms and back in the neighborhood that had raised him - he was with you and that was all that mattered, the man was filled with so much ecstasy he could almost forget why he’d come here.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, your voice is shaky and the ginger feels himself melt at the familiar tone of your voice.

“I should be asking you that,” he laughs, his eyebrows becoming furrowed in concern as he speaks, “it’s freezing, darling, you shouldn’t be outside.”

“I… I was waiting for one of your letters,” you whisper shyly, during your time away from each other - weekly letters had been your primary source of communication, something you’d learn to love and cherish as one of the few forms of contact you and Childe could have without your parents knowing his dangerous job and position.

“You’re so cute,” he coos, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders as he realizes you were safe, if anything he feels ashamed he hadn’t been able to send you anything and caused you such pain, his heart aches as he tries to wrap around his head he may have hurt your feelings, his gloved fingers find your cheek and squeezes it tightly, “however, it’s too cold for you to be outside with just a blanket, my love.”

“I know,” you shake your head, you go to lift a hand to wipe the stray tears that had escaped you but Childe takes care of it for you as he delicately caressed your face, “it’s just, I hadn’t heard from you in almost two weeks and I got worried, I thought… maybe something had happened in Liyue and you’d gotten hurt.”

“O-oh… I’m sorry,” his deep blue eyes look downcast as he processes your words, “I never meant to worry you, I had so much to do and to say that instead of a letter I decided to come meet you in person, i-isn’t that better, love? I simply couldn’t be away from you any longer, it’s my fault, though, I should have told you so earlier, ahh… I can’t believe I’ve made my angel cry.”

A poor soldier would have their head cut off tonight, he thought, for he was certain he’d sent a bag full of letters meant to last you at least a full season to be delivered everyday to you while he arranged for this mess to be solved.

You nod as stars fill your eyes before shaking your head as if assuring him you were alright. You loved Ajax and you had loved him for almost all your life, from the moment you met him you’d been charmed by his boyish good looks and charisma, of course a few things had changed, but he was still your sweet Ajax, the boy who’d stolen your heart and kept it safely within his arms for as long as you’ve known him.

“Come on,” you signal him to stand up with a soft pat and the man has to stop himself from begging for more of your touch, “let’s go inside, you must be tired and we have so much to talk about.” He nods and lets himself be pulled up by you as you giggle and smile about finally being able to talk face to face after years of not being able to physically see each other.

You feel like a teenager again as you lead Ajax into your house, your heart beating like you were confessing your love for the first time - the excitement was practically the same, your head felt fuzzy from the warm feeling holding Childe’s hand gave you; you had missed him terribly. You feel like you were about to explode into a million piece from excitement, your head filled with everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Ajax’s face ever since he left, all the news that felt too important to simply write out and that had you hoping a day like this would finally come, you’re scared of coming off too intensely but your heart truly feels like it’ll burst from joy, unfortunately your excitement comes to an abrupt end when you finally drag him into your living room. You turn around to offer him a drink or something to eat, the trip from the capital all the way over here was a couple hours long and he’d always had quite an appetite, but you’re faced with a look of disappointment and slight anger as he looks around the room, your heart sinks - just seconds ago he was all smiles and laughter as you two embraced each other in the harsh winter, having created a warm paradise between each other, but now he looked as if he couldn’t stand to be in your house and you wonder if maybe you’d angered him somehow even though you logically knew you’d done nothing other than invite him inside.

Maybe you were overreacting, you think, you’d been quite paranoid as of recently, your family had been distant and you’d been feeling lonely and anxious for a while. It’d been an embarrassingly long time since you’d had guests over, at least, guests that mattered to you and hadn’t been your parents’ friends or siblings spouses. The look in Ajax’s face makes your stomach churn; had something happened?

“Are your parents home?” He asks, his voice tinged in a mixture of distaste and sadness, it’s lower than when he’d spoken to you earlier and you wonder what could have happened to create such a drastic change in his behavior. If you took the time to notice you’d see how his eyes glare at the family portrait; the two traitors clear as day as they embraced their children, Childe couldn’t help but see them in a new, more negative and hateful light.

Not after two weeks of research, not when he was now certain they wanted to get in his way.

“No, they said they weren’t coming home until later tonight, but if you want to stay till then I’m sure they'd love to see you again,” you try to reassure him thinking he was perhaps saddened at not being able to see your parents, it’d make sense since, unlike you two, they hadn’t been able to keep in touch since the young man’s career in the Fatui began.

“I… I don’t think I want to meet them, no,” Ajax shakes his head, his hair bouncing as he makes his way to your sofa, his legs tremble slightly – cowards, he thinks, not even able to show their faces, “I actually came here to talk to them but, ha… now that I’m here I’m not too sure.”

“Hmm, how so?” You ask, your heart - which was already quite nervous at his sudden change of mood - sinks further, a sudden uneasiness fills your lungs.

He’d come here in hopes of finding you parents and confronting them with his findings, he would have offered them a chance to redeem themselves and cancel the wedding without you even finding out about the secret dealings they’d been making in your name, but they were not here, you were. Maybe, he could change his battle plan, if he couldn’t talk to your parents… why not simply talk to you? If he’d offered a higher sum and never asked you himself, he’d be no better than that lowlife and your parents, not that you’d reject him - but the thought of steeping as low as they did made him sick.

“What are your thoughts about marriage?” The question is so sudden and unrelated to the previous topic you instinctively frown.

“Marriage,” you sit down opposite of him, it feels like you’re in a job interview as he questions you, “I mean, I’ve thought about it but I’m not sure I want to get married, at least not now, I’m not too sure I’d want to give it all up; I mean, I have a job and friends, there’s so much to do, so much I want to do… and I can’t say I’d be able to do it all if I was married. I’d like to travel and, I… I don’t know, learn more I guess, I feel like if I settle down it'll be once I’m more, you know, confident or mature?”

You trail off awkwardly, it was true - the only times you’d ever seriously thought about marriage often included you being significantly older and, most of the time, with an already retired Ajax — though you wouldn’t admit that to his face unless you were certain he felt the same. You’d rather keep that last part hidden, if not for fear of making him uncomfortable, for the sake of your heart and fear of being brushed aside. Your parents had made it quite clear; you were no marriage-material, you’d be lucky if you even manage to get a partner at this rate, and you doubted a man as accomplished as Tartaglia, Ajax, the 11th Harbinger, would settle for a average, clumsy, pessimistic small town girl such as yourself.

He stays quiet as if a million thoughts were racing around his head; that wasn’t the answer he particularly wanted, he’d rather hear you’d been fantasizing of marrying him, hear you ramble on and on about how you’d been waiting for him and were just about ready to go down the aisle with him and promise yourself to one another but he was glad you weren’t against the idea of marriage, even if he wished you’d been more open about doing it sooner rather than later; but that would change, he was sure of it.

“And, uh, what about you?” You ask, the air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to ease the tension, only one thought was really running through your head that you were too afraid to ask; “What was going on with Ajax?”

“Me?” The question snaps him out of whatever mental trance he’d caught himself in, “Well, I want to get married, the sooner the better, I want to have a family, but it’s gotta be with the person I love the most in this world, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine living without them.”

Neither the words themselves nor the sentiment are crazy, even if you’d only just gotten to know him, it was obvious Ajax wanted a loving family to call his own and it was a pretty common desire for many, it more so was the way his eyes seemed to bore into your own as he spoke, as if he were trying to let you know it was you who he was talking about. You flustered at the thought, it was perhaps selfish to think it was you he was talking about but the thought pleased you nonetheless even if your parents’ words echoed in your mind.

“That’s, ah,” you mumble, breaking eye contact and looking elsewhere, trying to calm your beating heart, you should stop being so silly - he was here to talk with your parents, not you, both of you meeting was mere coincidence, nothing else, “really nice, I hope you find them soon..”

“You do?” He smiles, seemingly pleased with your words, but it’s significantly weaker than usual.

There’s an awkward silence as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d come here to propose. You know it sounds crazy and incredibly sudden but the mention of marriage and wanting to talk to your folk, the fact he’d made the time in his incredibly busy schedule and travels to come over to your house, it made it sound like he had ulterior motives for coming here and just the thought of them had you flustered. You may have just said you wanted to hold off on marriage, that you doubted someone like him would even think of being your partner, but you felt certain that if Ajax asked for your hand you would agree with no hesitation – out of a pitiful mix of love and desperation.

You’re unsure of what to do and are about to speak up, willing to say almost anything to move the conversation forward and away from the topic, but he beats you to it and breaks the silence first.

“Listen, dove… I-I love your parents and I wouldn’t accuse them of something like this if I didn’t have evidence, okay?” He lies through his teeth, after finding out the way they were so willing to get in between you two he could barely stand the thought of them now, but he’s lucky the rest of the words come easy, “I really didn’t want to believe this either, but I have many a reason to suspect they may be trying marrying you off soon to a stranger.”

“W-What?” You breathe out, you struggle to process his words, it’s as if they’d bounced off your brain and floated off elsewhere, “M-marrying me off? What’s - what do you mean?”

No, no, no way.

You feel yourself grow tense and light headed.

What sort of messed up prank was this? There was no way… right?

“It seems they found a member of the Fatui,” he shakes his head, “a guy named Andrei Galkin, and they’re planning to marry you off to him, so I decided to ask around - it seems like it’s been a topic for a while now, money may be involved too, the reason I came here was to… have a talk with your parents, see if I could change their mind.”

“D-do you even have proof?” You ask with a shivering voice, heat rushes to your cheeks as you begin to feel hot in embarrassment and anger; your parents were meaning to sell you off to some man? This had to be a joke Childe was playing, you’d known he’d become a bit off after the Abyss incident and you knew his time as a Harbinger probably messed him up, but this wasn’t funny. It was disgusting, the mere prospect has you trembling as you try and grasp what on earth was happening. However, the more you look at him, you wonder if this is a joke at all. You studied him and his expression, desperately trying to see anything on his face that’d indicate this was a sick prank from his part, a cheeky smile or maybe lack of eye contact - anything would do, you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate as you realized how absurd it’d be for him to come all the way to a village hours away from the main city to play such a horrible joke on you, one he must have known would cause you pain and anguish — you doubted he’d want to see you like this, at least you hoped he wouldn’t want to see you like this.

Oh, the realization makes you grow lightheaded, he was probably telling the truth.

“There’s correspondence between them and his family, there’s also a wedding venue booked under their names,” Ajax mumbled, his voice a mere whisper against the sound of your beating heart, he pulls a few files from his coat and hands them to you - your last name is printed on the cover and you quickly open them and browse through the pages, your heart sinks, “I also found money transactions between your family and the Galkin family, about… I’m sorry but I can’t —“

“How much, Ajax?” You feel stiff and your hands start shaking making it hard for you to continue flipping through the countless reports, photographs, records, bank transactions, and letters, your blood feels terribly cold as you try to calm down the whirlwind of feelings that coursed through your body, but you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down, not when your family, your parents of all people, have seemed to been able to calmly put a price on not only your love but your person as well.

“About 900,000 Mora,” he mutters, cold blue eyes avoiding your gaze as he continues, “to Uncle and Auntie from Andrei’s family.”

“900,000 Mora…” You feel your heart shatter as Childe brings a comforting hand towards your shoulders, his calloused fingers massaging your tense muscles, “You’re… you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I’d never lie about such a thing,” he approaches you slowly, Ajax continues speaking as he envelops you with a hug soon after removing the papers from your trembling hands,“this pains me as much as it pains you.”

All of this was true, it’d taken him a long time to gather it all, but the reality was simple and cruel;

your parents had begun arranging for your marriage to an older Fatui soldier for after his retirement.

“Why… why would they do this?” You mutter, feeling sorrow slowly fill your lungs up - making it harder to breathe comfortably, “H-how could they? How could they? Why… Ajax, w-why?”

You felt like an idiot, just minutes ago you’d naively thought you may be getting proposed to by your childhood lover, a childish and hopelessly romantic thought, but now you’re sitting in your living room, on the verge of a breakdown as you tried to think of why on earth your parents would be willing to accept such an offer on your behalf, why they’d use you - their daughter - for Mora.

“Shhh, it’s okay, let it out,” he brings your head into his shoulder, caressing your back in a soothing manner, “it must feel horrible, I’m sure.”

And so you sit there, sobbing into your old friend as you try and process the information presented in front of you. It takes you a good couple of minutes to calm down, by then you two have once again sat down on the couch.

“What am I going to do?” You bury your face into your hands, your body shook as you thought about having to confront your parents once they arrived now with the knowledge you had.

It takes Ajax a couple of seconds before he speaks up, he needed to make it seem like he hadn’t been thinking of this from the moment he’d gotten his hands on the evidence himself; “I have an idea but...”

Your head shoots up in record speed, you could practically feel your neck crack from the sudden move but you didn’t care, you were desperate for a solution - no matter how good or bad it may be; “Oh come on, just spit it out, nothing could be worse than this.”

“Marry me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches; “M-Marry you?”

He nods, sapphire eyes staring you down like a hunter would prey - you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

“Why?”

“Why?” He echos, you can see him stifle a laugh, “Because it’s either that or marrying some lowlife named Andrei who paid to wed you.”

You feel your body stiffen at the harsh words, they were true but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear. You avoid looking him in the eyes, your hands anxiously twiddle each other.

“… and what if you’re wrong?”

“What?” He asks as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said.

“What if my parents aren’t marrying me off…”

“Darling,” Ajax laughs but his eyes didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, “are you doubting me? I gave you evidence, it’s right there.”

“Not necessarily,” you look away, you couldn’t help but wonder why you needed to explain yourself, “but, come on, I can’t accept this, it’s too sudden and mom and dad, t-they’d never do this to me, right? I’m their daughter, you know? They love me, they said they did and you don’t do this if you love someone, right?. So… so w-what if you’re wrong?”

“Wrong? There’s no other interpretation that makes sense of what we’ve both seen. Why would I lie to you about this? Come on, love, look at me, do I look like I’m enjoying this?” He questions you, “Look at me, come on, listen to me, if it were up to me,” he grabs your chin when you refuse to meet his gaze, his dark blue eyes stare deeply into your soul; they don’t shine the way the once used to, “I would have asked them for their blessing and proposed to you in the plaza, I would have had a ring ordered from Liyue costume made for you, I’d organize for their to be flowers of every color imaginable, even arrange food and music too, there would be hundreds onlookers who’d die to experience a fraction of the joy we would be feeling, I would have invited my family and yours, I’d have you wearing a custom dress, you’d be the happiest woman in Teyvat if I’d have my way… but look where we are instead, can’t you see? This isn’t what I wanted for us, this isn’t what I wanted for you, but we still have time, we can still fix it. But before that first, you have to believe me and get it through your head; this is who they are, this is what they’ve done, your parents don’t love you any more.”

“…” You can only look at him in shock as you feel tears swell in your eyes because it was not far fetched to say that the last few months your family had been distant, that they’d begun to act strange, and that you’d been short on cash for Tsaritsa knows how long, it hurt because a part of you felt like this was plausible. Because it was true, you were the youngest and that you didn’t exactly pull your weight the same way your siblings did, it was true you’d been more of a casualty in your family’s life but that didn’t mean they’d sell you off. No, they had treated you with love and kindness, they’d been there for every big step in your life, they loved you… right? They’d never do this to you, they would never accept Mora in exchange for your hand in marriage. They would never trade their love for you for some Money… right?

Maybe their love was ensuring you had a better future, one where your lover took care of you even if you didn’t exactly choose them, it was true your love life had been awfully stale, that the only person you’d ever been interested in who had also liked you back was in the army, and that you were never quite able to secure a full time job, it was always part-time and you were always booked the least compared to your coworkers. It was true you didn’t have many friends, most of the people your age had moved away by now, you were the only one of your siblings who wasn’t married or dating someone, out of all of your siblings you were the only one who seemed to remain the same no matter how many years passed. Maybe it was exactly what this was, a misunderstood, misplaced, and ill-fitting way of showing their love; but maybe you hated the thought this was their way of expressing it more than you were moved they’d tried at all.

“Shhh, my love,” you didn’t quite catch when Ajax had started wiping your tears away nor when he had managed to get so close, but at that moment – the moment where your whole life felt so uncertain and shaken – you were willing to ignore it all, “it’s okay, I know what you’re thinking… My offer still stands, you can still marry me.”

“And then what?” You sobbed, holding his gloved hands tightly against your cheek, “What am I going to do after that?”

“You’ll move in with me,” he responds matter of factly yet his tone is still soft, as if he feared speaking too loudly would scare you away, “and we’ll tell them together and you’ll make your bags and we’ll be on our way away from all of this mess. Please listen to me, sweetheart, as of right now, I’m the only choice for you – it won’t be bad at all, it’ll be lovely in fact, don’t you want that?”

“…”

“Please, please trust me, I only want what’s best for you,” he continues, ignoring your silence and instead continuing to caress your skin, “I’ve worked with Andrei, he’s no good, he’s older and cranky, he’s always in a bad mood, he won’t satisfy you, and I don’t want you to be miserable, I mean look at you, is this what you want? Hear me out and put trust in me, you won’t regret it; I’ll get you out of this, I promise.”

“But…”

“I love you and I know you love me,” he whispered, drawing closer to you, his voice low as he slowly leans into your lips, he stops right before they can touch his own, “and I’m sure you’ll grow to love this too.”

There’s a silence as you let your options cross your head, you feel yourself grow overwhelmed, being struck with grief and regret in such strong waves you have no choice but to simply give in to the only secure stone you currently see in the storm that was brewing in your mind.

He loved you, he said so himself, and he’d protect you, he’d promised. You could trust him, you had to trust him; you had no one else.

“I’ll… I’ll marry you.”

“That’s my girl.” He boasts, his face – which is now close enough for you to smell the mint in his breath – breaks into a smile before he’s leaning into your face to kiss you; You reciprocate the action and close your eyes, secretly hoping that today was but a nightmare.

You feel his gloved hands wander around your body, the leather-like material is smooth as his skilled digits play around. There’s barely any time to breathe as he continues kissing you until you grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen entering your lungs.

You had always liked Ajax, always dreamed of marrying him, but as your dreams were coming true you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the circumstances that brought it up.

“Darling,” he moans, as he finally parts himself from your abused lips, “you’re not kissing back, don’t tell me you –“

“Ajax,” you interrupt, your voice barely above a whisper as you desperately try to dive into his eyes, seeking an answer, “why are you doing this?”

The question spoke for itself, no further clarification was needed; why had he come? Why had he revealed your parents’ plans? Was it even as awful as he made it seem? Why did he care? Why now? Did he really want to marry you or did he just feel responsible for you? Why did he bring himself into this mess? Why you, why him, why, why, why, why? Simply; why?

A part of you couldn’t quite believe what you’d heard, you still struggled to grasp the idea that your parents would even think of giving your hand away for Mora, and yet the intensity in his voice, the anger in his tone as he relayed the information he’d gathered could have convinced anyone, you doubted he’d lie about something as severe. If this was the truth, it’d been revealed to you too quickly, you’d been expected to get over it too soon, one moment you find out your parents were getting rid of you and your trust in the most materialistic of ways and the next you’ve been proposed to by a man you hadn’t seen in person for over half a decade. You can’t help but wonder if you said yes because you loved him or because you were desperate, for what - you didn’t know.

“Because I love you,” he speaks, his dull eyes finding yours and you wonder if they’d always lacked light, “I love you… and I’m not letting anyone get in my- our way.”

In his head, this was the only way to have you, this was the only way to love you, he was going to save you.

He doesn’t stop to wait for your response before he’s picked you up with ease, years of training and hard work evident by how nonchalantly he walks around your house and goes up the stairs, ignoring all the other rooms and picking up the pace the closer you got to the destination; you were going to your bedroom, you realize, the one you’d been occupying since you were a child. You never thought your house to be small but the speed in which he was walking made you aware of how short the distance between your bedroom and living room was.

“Ajax, what are you doing?” You whimper, you hold on tightly to the ginger, you’re so close you can smell his cologne, afraid he’d let you do if you let up even for a second.

“I’ll show you,” he continued down the hall, there’s an edge to his voice that gives you a chill, he sounded almost angry but with whom you did not know, “I’ll show you why I’m doing this.”

You two finally make your way to your bedroom where he kicks the door open and plops you, quite unceremoniously, down onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes and wiggles his heavy coat off before climbing the bed with you, he tugs you around until you’re below him.

“You’re doing all of this too fast, calm down,” you argue, pain and sorrow still evident in your voice and it hurts his soul to hear it, “you don’t have to prove me anything, I…”

“Everything I’ve said is true, love,” the red-head insists, “and I’m doing this equally for me as I’m doing it for you.”

You don’t respond, instead you opt to look away; his gaze was becoming too intense and it was making you feel funny in ways you hadn’t felt before.

“Look at me,” his hands find your jaw and he redirects your gaze forcefully, “you’ve already said yes, unless… don’t tell me you,” his eyes darken as they narrowed, an almost animalistic look took over his features, “you lied and you don’t want to marry me.”

“I… I do, I’ve always wanted to, but,” It’s embarrassing to admit but you do so anyway in fear of creating a misunderstanding between the two of you, everything was going so fast you were struggling to keep up, “but… is this really how you want to do it?”

You were certain you could take things slower, maybe wait for your parents to come home and talk to them, you didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, was this healthy? Was this okay?

“Yes,” it seems like he can sense your hesitation so he continues, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His words held so much certainty you almost feel stupid for even questioning him, he drew near your lips once more before engulfing your mouth in a kiss, this time with much more vigor than before.

His teeth nip at your lips, begging for entry and you shyly grant it, slowly parting your mouth open. It’s all so messy as you feel his tongue enter your mouth, the muscle seemingly had a life of its own as it mapped your mouth, teeth clashed against each other as if he were desperate to dominate you.

His hands find your waist and insists on pushing you further into the bed, molding your body into the mattress, as he rubs your sides with slow, sensual movements that light your body ablaze. The contrast between the continuous attacks on your lips and the soft stroking of your body left you dizzy, he handled you as if you were made of porcelain and yet ravaged you like a beast when granted access.

You unknowingly whine as your lips finally part, taking a deep breath of air in the process, a thin strip of saliva connected you both, a lewd indicator of the passion Ajax wished to imprint on you. You’re both panting, clearly riled up from the heated kiss, but the man on top of you insisted on letting his hands work their way through you. Your eyes trail downwards where his gloved digits traced the shape of your body, the way they glide across your curves and dips was hypnotizing, and you miss the way a smirk overtakes his features as he realizes how tightly he’s got you wrapped around those very same fingers.

You feel his breath before you hear his words; “Can I take this off?”

His voice is barely above a whisper yet his question rings around the room like a scream, you feel yourself grow hot under your clothes; the same ones he’d just asked to remove off of you.

You’re too embarrassed to answer him, still slightly hesitant to continue going, you can feel your cheeks heat up into a burning mess and you’re scared that if you speak you’ll make a fool of yourself, so instead you nod slowly, trying to calm your racing mind, moving your eyes elsewhere in hopes you wouldn’t have to see the smug look his face was sure to take.

However, he’s quick to catch your face and redirect your gaze back to himself; “Thank you.”

You let him pick you from the bed to fiddle with the claps on the back of your dress, his fingers are swift in figuring out how to free you from your outer layers, it’s almost amazing how quickly he’s able to take your clothes off until you’re clad in your modest undergarments.

Due to Snezhnaya’s unforgiving winters you often layered multiple articles of clothing and prioritized warmth over aesthetics, the thought your underwear might be underwhelming doesn’t cross your mind until you’re left with your thigh-length woolen socks and plain bra and panties. You wonder if maybe the sight would be disappointing for a man as well traveled as Childe, he’s probably seen much more appealing bodies and clothes during his travels, but that idea goes as quickly as it comes when you finally see his reaction to your partially bare body.

Even though he still wore multiple layers, you could see the way his chest had begun to fall and rise unsteadily, his cheeks have taken a feverish glow, and his breath has become noticeably ragged, the hands that held the clothes he’d recently taken off your body were clearly shaking, his fists tightened their grip on the soft fabrics of your garments until they wrinkled. His eyes never left you, even as they traveled through your body, mapping out every nook and cranny he so desperately wanted to mark and savor, he didn’t dare let his gaze wander as if afraid the minute he did you’d disappear and he’d wake up in his office, cold and alone.

“Hah…” Ajax lets out a soft moan as he takes in the sight in front of him, he feels weak and bothered as he watched your breasts rise and fall as you breathed, he lets his eyes go downwards until he’s face to face with your covered pussy and he feels his underwear slowly moisten as he catches sight of a small wet patch that had formed in your panties.

“Don’t look at me like that…” You mumble into your arms, your body instinctively tries to hide itself but your friend doesn't allow it. The minute he feels your legs try to bundle together he slots himself in between them and throws your clothes away so he can fully grasp and force them apart.

There’s silence as you both stare at each other, waiting for one of you to make the first move and fully pass the point of no return.

Surprisingly, this time it’s you who grows impatient and drags the ginger down to meet your hungry lips.

Maybe it’s because right now, Ajax felt like the only person who cared about you and you felt desperate to feel comforted, you felt betrayed and hurt and you craved to be reminded you were loved. It wasn’t healthy and a part of you felt guilty, like you were using him for momentary comfort, as if you’d forced him to come and offer his hand in marriage, if you were smarter and stronger maybe you would’ve realized what was going on and could have stopped it. But he’d said he loved you, right? You loved him, you knew you did and he’d gone and declared his love for you first, even when you were kids he was always dedicated to reminding you of his adoration, but your parents said that too and where did that lead to? He wasn’t doing this out of feeling obligated to care for you, was he?

Maybe this was a mistake, you probably should not be initiating sex with a man you haven’t seen in person in years after he came to tell you your parent had sold you off to marry some rich old, gross soldier, you instead should have sat down and talked for longer, tried figuring out what was going on and perhaps find a solution that didn’t include you marrying your childhood sweetheart, not out of love but out of fear of being forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger. But the fact of the matter is that you didn’t do that, you let yourself be dragged along by his passion and desperation, you now laid in bed making out with Ajax as you desperately tried to push the thoughts of self-doubt and disgust away.

You try to focus on the present without thinking of the past nor the future; The almost one million Mora your parents had pocketed didn’t mean anything, there was no Andrei Galkin, Ajax had never left you, the Fatui didn’t exist, there hadn’t been any betrayal or hurt feelings, you were safe and you were free, there was nothing. In this room, at least for this moment, all that existed was you and Tartaglia.

His shirt is a barrier between your greedy hands and his naked body that’s becoming increasingly annoying as you parted your lips to grant him access to your all of mouth, which he gladly accepts as your tongues caress each other in a sloppy manner, you feel your teeth sometimes clash with his own but you’re too focused on tugging at his clothes, trying to get them off with the least amount of space between you both to care. They could rip, you didn’t care, you wanted to feel his body and warmth, you needed to feel alive.

Your body is starting to feel tingly, your nipples feel hard against your bra and your lower region becomes needy. You want him to touch you more but his hands are busy fiddling with your hips and waist, alternating between the two spots as he caresses and pinches your skin.

You both seem hesitant to let each other go even if it’s for something as necessary as catching your breaths, but even if things seemed to have slowed down it didn’t mean something isn't happening.

“Ajax,” your voice is soft and breathless, you feel your lungs beg you to not speak, “take ‘em off, wanna touch you…”

You gesture at his clothes, slowly running a finger around his chest and stopping at - where you guessed - his nipple was and pressing down hard.

A deep grunt of approval escaped the man’s lips at the feeling and it took him a second to nod, busy trying not to focus too much on the way he felt his cock throbbing, and back off to make way for him to take his clothes off. Childe refuses to completely climb off you, instead leaning backwards to unbutton his shirt and click off the harness he wore, his coat falling behind is his figure, and his shoes long since thrown elsewhere, his pink nipples are clearly sensitive as his eyes shut off tightly as his clothes graze them, his whole body felt on fire - as if your mere presence were an aphrodisiac to the man. Next is his pants and socks and he does his very best to be as quick as humanly possible, they’re all off in record speed and he’s soon only wearing his underwear.

The minute he’s done, he’s thrown himself back onto you as if trying to make up for the few seconds he’d parted from you.

You’re flustered as you finally feel his skin freely come in contact with yours, as if the situation slowly began sinking in just then. Not to mention, you’d caught sight of his raging boner through the thin layer of fabric that constituted his undergarments. It looked big and thick and you wondered, if you even reached that point, if it was even possible to feel good from such a thing pounding on your hole, it looked like it’d hurt more than anything. But a greedy part of you was desperate to find out how it’d feel to have all of him inside of you, to have his fat tip caressing the deepest corners of your body, painting your gummy insides white.

This time, you both skip the kissing and go straight to touching each other, this time more shamelessly and with less hesitance. Your hands find his neck and you pull his head into the crook of your neck where he dedicates his time to litter kisses across the area, you let your hands wander across his shoulders and neck, softly scratching the skin under your nails whenever he kisses a particularly sensitive spot. On the other hand, Ajax let his hands travel across your chest and cup your breasts, he molds the flesh like a stress ball, tightening his grip and pulling at them like they were toys. The feeling of your bra coming into contact with your hardening nipples makes you whimper and moan while your body contorts in an attempt to meld deeper with the man on top of you.

Your movements are restricted and awkward as you were currently caged between the bed and him, but you do your best to communicate your growing neediness.

“A-Ajax, mhmm~!” You gasp, his teeth gnaw at a spot in your neck that has a shot of neediness reaching your privates in electrifying waves, “… more, I wan’ more…”

You can feel his lips curve into a smirk as he hears the desperation in your voice but he’s not better at concealing the very obvious way your words affected him; “My dove wants more? Hah—haha, a-aren’t you such a cute ‘nd needy little thing.”

You huff slightly at his teasing words but you can’t deny that the way he addressed you as “his” made you grow increasingly horny. He seems to hear your soft complaint and finally parts with your neck, which was now littered with hickies and love bites, to allow himself to gaze deeply into your eyes.

You could never deny that Ajax’s eyes were the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen, they resemble sapphires and noctilucous jade but with less shine. When you both were younger you’d spend hours gazing upon them, admiring the intensity they held. Now, however, you can’t say you aren’t slightly intimidated as he gazes at you like a predator. His hands leave your body and you’re immediately missing the warmth they provided you, in fact, you’re about to complain and ask him to touch you again when he suddenly cups your clothed pussy with his hand.

His hand is large, his fingers are long and the palm is in no way small, which meant most - if not all - of your cunt was now being held in one of his hands. His thumb is hovering over your clit and you gasp as you feel him tighten his hold and trace his fingers across your slit and up to your sensitive nub.

You squirm, letting your bottom grind against his hands, slowly building up your pleasure until you’re letting out soft moans and whines. Tartaglia decides to aid you as he himself works towards getting his member hard and oozing with release by moving his hand across your pussy and grinding on your thighs simultaneously. Your mind grows hot and dazed as you sense your pussy begin to drool, you could feel the way your juices leaked, the wet trail they’d leave and traveled across your your entrance, down your slit and across your thighs, soaking your underwear with release; you wondered if Ajax could feel your excitement too.

You could certainly feel him. His cock had long since been hard and leaking precum, you could make out through hazy eyes and desperate movements a wet patch on his boxers. It looked so big constrained against the fabric, you wanted to free his cock and feel it inside your hole, any of them, his balls seemed to hold unceremonious amounts of cum as the wetness kept growing more and more visible to you, you wondered if he’d be willing to come inside of you if you asked.

You both work together, trying to make the other as aroused as possible until someone snapped and began demanding the intercourse you both clearly wanted.

You don’t want to give in, not yet, but he’s begun to tease your slit with his fingertips and you’re growing aggravated from the empty feeling in your cunt. You feel yourself clenching onto nothing, your walls closing desperately trying to find anything to grip onto, you are growing desperate to feel something inside, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock — you wanted him inside of you, now.

“Ha… hah~” You can feel his tongue hanging from his open mouth, drool escapes his parted lips and coats your breasts, you’re surprised he’s managed to keep himself up for so long, all the training he’d endured paying off and allowing him to mount your thighs and grind his length against your skin, his expression is one of extreme arousal that makes you tense and grow lust-drunk, “T-Tell me… d’ya wanna feel my cock in your pussy yet, darling?”

“…! M—mhk?!” You let out a high pitched whine as a particular stroke of his hands delves momentarily into your clothed hole, you can feel your cum slowly dirty your underwear.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, his movements growing erratic, his ginger hair seems darker and less vibrant against his reddened face, “your… your pussy is beggin’ for me!”

“Please…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body still rocks alongside his own as he uses your body to get off and bring you close to a mind-numbing release, your voice wavers as your whole being is shocked from the pleasure Ajax’s hand toying with your clothed cunt brings, your legs twitch and your body keeps contorting and folding.

“Hmm, please what? I need you to tell me,” he mumbles, his voice takes a deep, desperate and animalistic tone as he continues, he takes his fingers and starts to circle your clit with an unimaginable force, “What do you want, huh? If you want me to fuck y-you, you’ll need to use your big girl words. Say; “I want my husband’s cock inside of me”, come on, ask for y-your husband’s cock…!”

“A~Ajax…! Please-uh…” Your body begins to hurt, your very own genitals seem to be burning in fire as you desperately try to soothe the ache in your womb and clit. You begin to rut against his hands at an embarrassing, almost objectifying, pace, absolutely desperate to cum and lift the cloud of lust that seemed to haunt you from the moment Ajax laid your body on your mattress.

“That’s not who I am,” he mumbles into your skin, his teeth beginning to bite and mark the flesh of your breast, “I’m y-your husband now, right? So, ask for it properly… hah~ won’t you?”

“… want my h-husband’s cock, I… inside of me, please,” you whine between heavy breaths, “I… want to fuck my—hah… h-husband…”

The moan that leaves his lips is loud and primal, his whole body shudders as he hears your plea. He didn’t think he could get any harder and yet hearing your shaky voice ask for him sends a rush of blood through his body and straight to his dick.

“Ahaha… that’s right, isn’t it? I-I’m your husband now,” an unsettling grin starts to form on his face, one that, if you weren’t so desperate and vulnerable, would probably have sent a shiver down your spine; it was an expression that resembled his face after ending a powerful opponent, one that meant victory was his, that he’d won, it was the face many people would see before departing the realm of the living, one of pure, unhinged bliss that could only be understood by a man such as himself, “I’m your husband, your husband… a-ah! Ha-ah, that means… hah, that means it’s my duty to fuck you, to make you feel good, a good husband makes love to his spouse, right? S-so as your husband, I get to be inside of you… a-and make you cum lots. Yeah, I… I’m going to be the best husband, you’ll feel good too… So be a good wife and take all of my love, ‘kay?”

During his incoherent rambling, which you barely could understand, he works to rid you of your underwear with desperate movements. His hands pull at the fabric with enough force that they tear, allowing him to rip the fabric off your hips and discard it on the floor. The cool air in your room hits your lower end and makes you shiver, your body had been previously engulfed by Childe’s warmth, the feeling of his own heating body and rapid blood circulation had sheltered you from the freezing temperature outside of the sinful haven between your bodies. The difference in temperature and its effect on you seems to have been noticed by your partner, who looks around the room trying to find a solution.

You want to hurry him up, tell him you didn’t mind the cold, that you just wanted to feel him inside you for the first time, but before you know it he’s pulling something from behind; his white coat soon is back on his shoulders, lazily throw on, barely holding up as he quickly pulls his underwear off. He’s quick and precise, never wasting a moment as he adjusts himself on top of you once more, this time with his bare cock leaking on your stomach.

“I’ll heat you up… inside and out, hah…” He mumbles, adjusting the coat so it covers both of you, the long, heavy material immediately worked wonders as your body regained its warmth.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, you’re both trembling as he slowly lowers his pelvis to meet your own. You were right, he was big and he was long and thick, but he made sure to go slowly as he inserted two fingers to stretch you out in preparation.

Your slick facilitates the intrusion, there’s not much pain as he opens and closes his fingers, curling and extending them, as if trying to gauge how far you could stretch. His cheeks are a bright red, sweat runs through his forehead as he feels your body accommodate the feeling of his fingers. Ajax was big, always taller than most in your village, and his time in the Fatui had definitely contributed to his size – his shoulders were broad, his chest chiseled, and his fingers, the ones that slowly danced inside your pussy, were long and calloused. This was your first time feeling something other than your own hands and Ajax was making sure to show you all the places you could have never reached on your own.

You don’t even realize you’d begun panting, soft whines and moans had been leaving your lips forma while now, noises that only served to encourage Ajax further. But he had to stop, he needed you both to cum together as one. Your first time together had to be romantic like that, both of you climaxing together and coming undone at the same time.

There’s a feeling of emptiness and disappointment that follows the feeling of his fingers leaving your body, you’re about to complain when you see him bring his fingers to his lips to lap at the slick that had stuck to them. You’re mesmerized at the lewd image, gazing hopelessly at the way his face melted into one of pure pleasure as he tasted you. He makes sure to lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping at the cum.

You catch his eyes and they soften, a lovestruck look taking over his features, you nod and open your legs wider than before; encouraging him to finally fuck you. He positions himself outside of your opening, making sure you grasp your legs and pull them as wide apart as he physically could without hurting you.

Even with the previous preparation, your breath is knocked out of your lungs as his tip slowly makes its way through your slit, past the muscles and finally inside your gummy walls.

He uses his arms to adjust his body, making sure to be as careful as possible as to not hurt you. This was your first time making love to each other, and he’d be damned if he were the one to cause you pain.

He gives you a second before pushing the rest in, he’s still slow, attempting to coax your body into adjusting to the feeling of being so full. His blue eyes are closed, his breath is heavy and you can feel the bed shake as he tries to control himself, you’re not faring much better, your head felt light as all your body could seemingly concentrate on was the feeling between your legs, your body was heating up and you could feel the warmth radiate off your skin.

You know he’s fully sheathed himself when you feel the soft “thud” of his balls hitting your ass, you’ve become hyper aware of the proximity and situation you’re in as his cock begins to throb inside of your pussy, his head comes to rest on the crook of your neck as you both adjust to the feeling of each other's body.

A moment passes, your walls that had previously been gripping Ajax like a lifeline slowly weaken, finally allowing both of you to relax and begin to experiment.

“I-I’ll start…” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze as if feeling shy, he begins to move around as if to grip the bed’s headboard, all while still inside you, his arms allowing him to cover your body from the world.

As you look up, you realize how he’s become all you see, his imposing frame and coat acting as a curtain blocking the outside from entering your view. Your heart feels heavy but you try and pay it no mind.

The movements are slow and clumsy at first, his cock never truly leaves your warmth fully, his tip always kept inside of your cunt - one way or another. The feeling is strange, you’re not used to the way his length would gaze at your walls or the feeling of the veins on his dick caressing spots inside of you that made you gasp and curl your toes. It’s new and it takes some adjusting before you begin to rock your own hips to meet his, suddenly it begins to feel good, really good in fact. There was something about the stretch, maybe it was the feeling of being so full, the way his cock curved and hit spongy spots in your pussy becomes addicting, or maybe it was the fat vein that decorated the underside of his cock, but it wasn’t long until you’re trying to entice a faster, tougher pace.

He takes his time teasing and easing you into the rhythm of sex, he wouldn’t tell you, but a part of him was scared that if he picked up his pace he wouldn’t be able to stop until you were leaking his cum - not to mention, he wasn’t sure he’d last long if he started to fuck you even faster. The feeling of your walls gripping him was divine, there are moments his thrusts grow unsteady and out of sync, as if his body was trying to take control and allow itself to set the animalistic pace he so desperately wanted, it’s these exact moments where his patience is tested, where he wants nothing more than to pick up your body and use it as a toy to fill with his semen.

“I wan’ more,'' you moan and he freezes as he feels your hips pathetically lift up to meet his heated thrust, your lower region coming up and rolling, rocking, and sloppily caressing his own pelvis in an attempt to suck him deeper into your sex, this was the first time you’d ever experienced such fullness and pleasure, your mind was numb and you’d forgotten all about previous sorrows, you truly wanted to feel more and more until all you could think of was Ajax’s cock and feeling good, “… wan’na feel my… my husband’s c-cock…?!”

At the title, the ginger truly can’t help the way his hips basically crash into yours, it was purely instinctual – just the sound of your calling him yours and acknowledging him as your husband, even if you’d only gotten engaged less than an hour ago, was enough to drive him mad with lust. He feels his head grow dizzy as thoughts of breeding you and claiming you as his take over. It’s as if a switch is turned on because from that moment onwards the atmosphere changed completely.

His previously considerate and soft strokes become harsh and rapid, you can feel your bed move rhythmically with his thrusts, your whole body jolts as he begins to fuck you with the sole goal of filling you so deeply your body was to be conditioned to respond lewdly to his mere presence. They’re deeper too as he now focused on feeling and claiming as much of your hole as possible, it’s impossible not to feel the way his cock imprinted itself deeply inside your body.

Your hands are desperate to grasp onto something, so you clutch at the sheets under you as tightly as possible, your body feels hot and heavy; your legs twitch and you're left gasping as Childe grabs your hips to adjust your position. You’re still lying down but your back arches itself to allow him easy access to your bottom, it’s surprising how easily he’s able to manhandle your body while never quite pulling out, always making sure to insert himself as quickly as he exited, never truly pulling out all of his dick.

The new position allows for him to hurry his pace, you’re soon moving like a rag doll with no control over your limbs. You’re left a moaning, whining mess as your brain struggles to process the waves of pleasure that bloomed from deep inside your pussy.

You feel your heart beating and you can almost hear the sound of your slick pouring out and lubricating your walls, making it increasingly easy to continue the Fatui’s pounding of your cunt. You’re not too sure if you’re even able to talk, the thought of forming a coherent sentence felt farfetched, all that leaves your lips are whines, sounds of pure pleasure and bliss that sound like an orchestra to Ajax.

He’s not doing much better, his vocabulary seems to have been reduced to declarations of ownership over you, boundless love, and immense pleasure. Your name soon becomes the only coherent sound leaving his lips as he lets his head fall back, his body almost working on autopilot as he allows his hips to ram inside you while his hands focus on teasing your nipples and forcing you to face his reddening face. His chest shines with sweat as he makes sure to fill the room with the sound of your skin meeting him and the growing wet mess between your merging bodies.

You’re both soon leaking arousal, Ajax’s cock starts to slowly redden and grow inside of you as he approaches orgasm, drops of precum start to form on the tip, and your torso starts to heat up as it feels heavier the better you feel; your cum is soon coating his dick white, a clear indicator he’d been inside your drooling cunt. You let go of the sheets and bring a hand to your clit, desperate to bring yourself closer to release.

“Ah-! Just like that,” Ajax exclaims, lurching forward as he feels your walls tighten around his cock, “tighten around me like that, fu–uck! I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your pussy, gonna shoot my cum inside you… Haha–hah! You’re… you’re gonna be full with my cum, are you ready?”

You nod mindlessly, too busy playing with your clit and pressing kisses into Ajax’s skin. The feeling of being filled by your childhood sweetheart was intoxicating, it left you an overstimulated mess, moaning and whining as you gripped the man’s shoulders to bring him closer to you.

You couldn’t tell who came first, only that your final push was the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours. Maybe it’s the desperation you felt radiating off him as his tongue caressed your own, the way his hands tighten around your body as he begins unloading his cum begins seeping into your pussy and deep inside your body. You’re a shaking mess as you continue riding your orgasm on his dick, prolonging the pleasurable feeling by rocking your hips into his in an almost shy manner, it’s addicting and you’re left gasping and moaning for more. On the other hand, Ajax was trembling on top of you, his arms seemingly giving out as he collapsed into your body, allowing his head to rest beside your own on your pillows while his cock throbbed and painted your insides with his cum. He gives a few weak thrusts, as if making sure that his balls have been thoroughly emptied, before he looks over at your panting face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, desperately trying to calm your heart down into a stable rhythm, while your body twitches in a post-orgasm afterglow. You’re sweating, your eyes shut tight as you feel your pussy swell around Ajax’s dick, which was very much still inside you, and grow sensitive. Even in this state, where you’re too shaken to do anything other than breathe and try to relax your body, he thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

His hand, which trembled ever so slightly, travels to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. He subconsciously traces your ring-finger, trying to estimate your size, you’d accepted his proposal, going as far as acknowledging him as your husband, it was now his responsibility to find a suitable ring for you, one worthy of resting on your fingers.

He smiles, cuddling deep into your bare skin, pressing his softening cock deeper into you, which earns him a soft whine from you, essentially plugging his semen inside your pussy.

“… I love you, Ajax.” You mumble, eyes still closed shut, your voice drowsy and far away as exhaustion slowly catches up to you. Today had been hard on you, physically and mentally, you’d learnt more than you’d wished to have known, your relationship with those around you now forever changed; you’d agreed to marry your childhood friend in response to your parents’ betrayal, you’d given up your virginity to him and now laid in bed, struggling to know if you’d made the right decisions. An inner turmoil was growing inside you, a storm of emotions you were not ready to deal with, but right now, as you lay beneath the man who’d promised to save you, you decide to rest and let him take care of it, for now. Your breathing slows down, your body finally succumbing to sleep.

You’re too tired to hear the sound of the front door unlocking, your mother’s voice booming across the house as she calls out for you as she ushers your father and guests inside your family house. Ajax makes no move to leave your bed or even remove himself from inside of you, not even as he recognizes the distinct sound of footsteps that belonged to your parents moving around downstairs, grinnin softly as he hears your mother call out for you again, while your father talked to someone and merrily laughed, joking around, easing the tension of the first meeting between two people set up in an arranged marriage – where only one of them knew.

He can hear your parents talking, making an excuse at where you were, he can hear your mother climb up the stairs, he can hear her getting closer to your room.

What a lousy move, he thought to himself, to ambush you one day and try to dump the news on top of you like this, you didn’t even seem aware of guests coming over to your home at all, he frowned; he had expected more of uncle and auntie. Alas, he’d long since given up on them, he just hopes your mother doesn’t scream too loudly when she sees you two in bed together.

He’d hate for you to wake up to such an awful shriek.

There’s a knock on your door, Ajax smiles but makes no move to answer, and then another as your mother calls out your name. She sighs before threatening to open the door, Ajax has to stifle a giggle, pressing his lips into your shoulder to not let out any noise, too afraid to ruin the surprise for his soon to be mother-in-law, she hears no response, she clearly feels agitated and annoyed, he can hear it the way she knocks once more with a stern calling of your name.

There’s a second of silence before the door is swung open.

Ajax looks over to your mother, his coat covering both your naked forms enough that a semblance of modesty is kept but not enough that what happened between the two of you was misunderstood, it would be clear to anyone who could walk in, and he smiles, leaning his body into your own, further embracing you and pushing your sleeping face into his chest, he rolls over as a playful wave is sent her way, she stands frozen in place. Your bottom halves are still covered by the oversized coat, but the bruises and bites that litter your bodies are enough to paint a picture, his hand moves to caress your body, a smug smile takes over his features as he watches your mother try to come up with the right words to say.

“Hello, ma’am,” his tone is playful but the look on his face is one of pure venom, she looks beyond flustered but isn’t able to say a word; too shaken by the sight, the combination of her daughter and a man in bed together and the Harbinger’s insignia that seemed to shine with even the smallest movements from the ginger was enough to send her stumbling back, “it’s been a while, we have a lot to catch up on, huh?”

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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

Text

“itadori, please respect his personal space—”

“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”

“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”

peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.

you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.

a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.

[satoru]: send nudes?

you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.

peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.

he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.

but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.

when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.

luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.

he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.

[satoru]: haha jk

[satoru]: unless…?

huffing, you quickly type back a response.

[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.

[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)

“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”

“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”

yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!

megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.

sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.

thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.

he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.

your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.

[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?

[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…

[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you

oh, that’s actually kind of—

[satoru]: nude, preferably

maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.

[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.

there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.

[satoru]: shit

[satoru]: is this a scene?

you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.

[you]: i hate you

he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.

you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.

once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—

you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.

he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.

you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.

“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”

“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”

“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”

“a nap does sound kind of nice…”

he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.

“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”

it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.

so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.

because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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izadi234 · 26 days ago

Text

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 (You're here)

Chapter 6

Meanwhile Duke and you spent the afternoon playing at an arcade and while you were playing, Duke checked the family group. Dick had sent a message calling for a meeting but he ignored it and decided to focus on spending time with you.

Alfred's plan must have already started

After playing for a while you both decided to go to dinner at Duke's favorite restaurant so you could talk in a more relaxed way. These moments with you made Duke feel like he was a little kid again, forgetting about school, his parents' tragedy and even that he was a vigilante. Once you got to the restaurant and sat at your table, you talked a little about some series and video games that you both liked until Duke asked something that he had never dared to ask before.

"Can I ask you a question, (Name)?"

"Sure!" you nodded

"Why are you studying journalism?" the younger one asked

Duke was not stupid, he was also a detective like the rest of the family, he knew that your career decision had been made because of the death of your parents, but he wanted to know about your life before the mansion.

And so maybe he'll know how to make your next stay more comfortable

"Well umm..." you said a little thoughtfully but still smiling

"I don't think I've told you about my mom and... and my dad, right? Before I went to live at Wayne Manor" you specified

Duke just shook his head as he waited for you to continue talking.

"Well, I chose my career because of them"

"And why?" Duke asked a little more insistently "And Bruce wasn't your father?"

"I mean, if Bruce is my father biologically speaking but..." you sighed and looked at him with a sad smile

"I think it won't hurt to tell you. I trust you" you took his hand in yours and squeezed gently making Duke smile at you

"Before living in Wayne Manor, I lived with my mom and another man, his name was (F/N) (father's name) and he met my mother when she had found out that she was pregnant with me. They met by chance, my mother was a great scientist and he was a journalist and the day they met, he came to interview Bruce for a new project they were doing. He was lost in the big building of Wayne Enterprices and that's where he found mom. She kindly helped him and from what he once told me he was immediately smitten by her. They started dating and ended up falling in love but before that my mom found out that she was pregnant with me and it was clearly not (F/N)'s, but when she told him about her pregnancy and who I was child of, he didn't care and he was with her throughout her pregnancy. Mom quit Wayne Enterprises and moved in with my father. Then I was born and everything was perfect until... one day it wasn't anymore..." you started to tell him, but at the end of your story you had a more somber face

"I..." Duke wanted to talk but he didn't know what to say "And... what happened next?"

You hesitated to talk but he was Duke, he was YOUR brother, of course you could trust him

"Dad was covering an event in downtown Gotham when there was an explosion near the place. I remember it like it was yesterday" you smiled sadly "I was always excited to see him on television and that day was no exception. My mother and I were in the TV room, she was sitting on the couch while laughing at my excitement and I was sitting on the floor in front of the TV. And it was when he was announcing the capture of the Joker in a building when an explosion happened causing the signal to cut out. My mother immediately took me away from the TV and we both went to my room where she tried to calm me down, making sure he was okay but I knew she was scared too. Hours later I fell asleep but I woke up to my mom crying and that was when I knew dad hadn't made it. The funeral was the next day and even though she tried to look strong I knew she was just as bad or worse off than me. Months later, my mom started getting sick, I thought it was because of her low mood but she soon had to be admitted to the hospital. She was diagnosed with terminal cancer and had at most a few months left, in the meantime I stayed with a neighbor, she was an old lady but I saw her as a grandmother. She took me to see my mom every day and one of those days I heard them talking about my real father. Mom tried to convince my nanny to adopt me when she was gone but my nanny refused, she said I would live a better life with my biological father. Weeks later she died too and immediately child services contacted Bruce and well you know the rest"

You looked at Duke still with a small smile

"Does anyone else know all this?" Duke asked after a few seconds of silence

"Nope" you shook your head "Well, Alfred but in a very general way, just what child services told him when he picked me up from that place"

"And yes, I chose to study journalism because of my father. He inspired me a lot when I was little and to this day my dad and mom do it. So, have you finished that project you told me about the other day?"

"Let me walk you home" you said to Duke as you walked through the almost dark streets of Gotham

"Oh no, really! I don't want to cause you any trouble" Duke said a little embarrassed

"Of course not Duke!" you put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed him a little "You're my brother, I'm not going to leave you alone in these dangerous streets"

"I'm a vigilante" he reminded you

"And?" you hugged him

"You're always going to be my little brother"

"You're embarrassing me!" the boy exclaimed as he tried to separate himself from the hug although to be honest, he would never reject a hug from you

"Oh no, they just grow up and they don't even want a hug from their sibling anymore" you said dramatically making both of them laugh

"But seriously, I'll give you a ride to Wayne Manor" you said

"Do you have a car?!" He asked surprised

"No... but a motorcycle, I left it in a parking lot near here. Let's go."

They walked until they reached a parking lot where you had your motorcycle at the back. You handed him your helmet so he could put it on.

"What about you?" Duke asked when he noticed that you only had one helmet

"Don't worry, I'm more worried about you" you said as you got on your motorcycle, followed by him

"Ready?" you turned to look at him

"Ready!" he nodded

"Okay, hold on!" you said before starting the motorcycle

The more Jason looked through the box, the more he felt like he knew you. You liked taking pictures, that was a fact and on the last pages of the album you had some notes next to the photo, describing the situation of the photo.

"Jason?" a voice called from the door of the living room, it was Dick

Realizing that Jason hadn't heard him, the acrobat approached and touched his shoulder making Jason jump a little because he wasn't expecting it.

"What do you want, Dickhead?" he asked irritated

"I was..." Dick interrupted his words when he saw that his brother had several things around him

"What is that?" Jason turned to look at your things again, his expression less hard.

"They're (Name)'s"

"And who gave them to you?" Dick asked as he sat next to him

"Alfred"

"Alfred? Why would he have (Name)'s things?" Dick asked as he grabbed a small purple blanket

"It's some stuff that they probably threw away over time or forgot to take" Jason said as he looked back at the photo album Dick noticed Jason's gaze that was resting on the book and decided to take it but before he could do so Jason grabbed Dick's wrist preventing him from doing so which caused the older man to look at him strangely.

"Jason..?" His voice brought him back to reality.

"Yeah I'm sorry" he let go of his wrist

"It's a photo album. It's (Name)'s" Jason let Dick take the album and he started to flip through it in silence while Jason looked at other things in the box.

"Who is this man?" Dick asked referring to your father

"I have no idea" Jason admitted

"Maybe Babs can recognize him" he said to continue looking at the photos

"Wait... Do you have photos with them?!" Dick exclaimed in surprise

"Yeah..." Jason smiled proudly

"And why don't I have a picture with them?!" Dick said dramatically "I'm their older brother!"

"But I'm their favorite brother" Jason stressed

That couldn't be possible! Dick was EVERYONE'S favorite brother! How could Jason be YOURS?!

"You damn...!" Dick was going to throw himself at Jason if it wasn't for a presence behind them

"What the hell is going on?" asked Bruce who looked at them confused

"And who is all this from?"

"It's from (Name)" said his sons at the same time

"Have you found anything?" asked Jason to Bruce

"No" sighed Bruce as he sat on the couch

"The day of their departure they turned off the cameras for several hours and cleaned their room excellently well"

Jason sighed a little desperate.

"Well... We haven't found anything either but, Jason found this" Dick gave Bruce the album

"Maybe it won't help in finding them but maybe it will help... get to know them better" Dick spat out those last words as if he was ashamed of not knowing his brother/sister for 15 years Bruce started looking at the album like his two sons had done before

"And this man?" he asked when he saw your father of course he remembered your mother, she was very beautiful but equally intelligent.

Yes, it was a very serious loss in his company when she left but this man, he had already seen him before but... where?

"We don't know" Jason said

"I'm going to tell Tim, Stephanie and Barbara to identify him" Bruce said taking the photo of your first birthday. You looked so happy despite being only one year old and what a beautiful smile, it was just like your mother's but... he had never seen him up close

"And what are the others doing?" Jason asked, snapping him out of his thoughts

"Tim, Stephanie, and Barbara are in the Batcave looking through the cameras, and if they have social media, Damian and Cass are still in their room looking for a clue, although to be honest, I'm starting to doubt it," Bruce sighed again

"And Duke?" Jason asked

"Duke..?" Bruce's eyes suddenly opened as he remembered the newest member of the Wayne Family

"He didn't answer or see the messages I sent to the group either," Dick said as he checked his cell phone

"That's it! Duke!" Bruce exclaimed with a smile on his face, causing Dick and Jason to look at each other in confusion

"Okay...?”

“In the morning Duke had told me that he was going out with (Name) so he should know where they are" he explained to them

"Duke and (Name) get along?" Jason asked surprised and a little jealous

"That's right, Master Jason" said Alfred who was standing at the entrance of the room

"Young Master Duke and Master (Name) have maintained a friendly relationship since he arrived at the mansion" explained the older name

"Ha!" laughed Dick while patting him on the back "It seems that you are no longer his favorite"

That made Jason feel a pressure in his chest.

He had to be YOUR FAVORITE again

"Alfred could you give this to Tim, Steph and Barbara, please?" Bruce gave Alfred the photo of your first birthday "Have them identify the man in the picture"

"Of course, Master Bruce" nodded the butler and then left

"So what? Are we going to wait for Duke to arrive?" Jason asked a little gruffly, still angry

"I think we shouldn't wait for him to arrive, Master Jason," Alfred commented as he looked out the window

"Why do you say that?" Dick asked as the three men stood up

"Because he is already here.”

"Well bro, this is where I'm at" you said as you stood on your motorcycle in front of the large doors that gave access to the great Wayne mansion

"Are you sure you don't want to go in and say hello to Alfred?" Duke asked as he took off his helmet and gave it to you

"No thanks. I love Alfred but I wouldn't go in that place again for the life of me" you said as you covered the license plates of your motorcycle with your jacket now that Duke got off. You were a little paranoid like your father but could you be blamed? This place gave you the creeps.

"Okay then I think this is where we say goodbye" Duke said a little sad and you could notice it. You chuckled and hugged him without getting off your motorcycle.

"It's not a final goodbye, besides you have my number" you smiled at him

"I know, but the fact that you don't even live here now is very strange to me. I really miss you"

"And I miss you, little brother" you hugged him one last time

"Text me when you get home" he said once you put on your helmet

"Sure" you nodded as you started your bike

"See you later Duke! I love you"

"I love you too, (Name)" that was the last thing you said to each other before you left for your house

Duke sighed as he watched you leave, not looking back. He walked towards the entrance where the doors opened upon recognition and then walked a flight further until he reached the double doors of the large mansion.

Before he could knock on the door Alfred opened it and greeted him with his usual neutral tone of voice and a small smile which indicated to him that everything was going according to his plan.

"Good evening, young master" Alfred let him in

"Good evening Alfred"

"Master Bruce is waiting for you in the living room with young masters Dick and Jason" Alfred told him as Duke hung his jacket on the coat rack in the entrance

"And why are you looking for me?"

"To ask you about (Name)”

"You were looking for me Bruce?" asked Duke as he peeked through the door to the living room to see the three men sitting in the living room

"That's right Duke" nodded Bruce as he motioned for the younger man to sit

"Okay" he nodded as he took a seat next to Dick "What happened?"

"I need you to tell me everything you know about (Name)" Bruce told him

"And for what?" Duke acted confused

Bruce sighed. No matter how many times he repeated it, it always embarrassed him.

"I want to apologize to them"

"We ALL want to apologize to them" Dick corrected knowing that Bruce was not the only one to blame for this situation

"I have not been a good father to them, I didn't even try and now I see the consequences. My firstborn is away from this family because of me. I should have been more aware of them but I thought that since they weren't a vigilante, they would need less of my attention and now I see how wrong I was" he explained to Duke and then looked him in the eyes

"But you have been able to make a connection with them, and now I need all the information I can get from them so I can find them and tell them all that and more"

Duke sighed but inside he felt satisfaction seeing Bruce in that state, for all the harm he had caused his sibling.

A little punishment never hurt anyone, right?

But if he wanted you to come home then he had to help them, besides he still didn't know where you lived.

"Okay, but I don't have much information," Duke told him.

"We'll judge that," Jason said now, looking at him with a somewhat hard look.

Had he already discovered that he was now (Name)'s favorite?

That only filled him with more satisfaction.

"Okay," he nodded.

Before Bruce could say anything else, Tim arrived in the room, interrupting their conversation.

"Bruce, we've already identified the man."

They all went down to the Batcave and down there were Barbara and Stephanie talking and in the background, on the screen, they saw several pictures and information.

"What did you find?" asked Bruce as everyone approached the Batcomputer

"Well, the man in the picture with (Name) and their mother is (F/N) (L/N)" Barbara began to say "He studied journalism at Gotham University and he was married for 2 years to (M/N) (L/N) and gave his last name to (Name)"

"He died in an explosion caused by the Joker when (Name) was 4 years old, the same age they were when they came to the mansion" finished explaining Steph

Bruce already knew where he knew that man from. He had interviewed him several years ago. He was a very intelligent man and clever with words at that time which bothered him a little. From that interview onwards, the only one allowed to interview him was Clark or Lois, no one else could interview him.

But maybe if he had allowed (F/N) to keep interviewing him, maybe he would have known about his child's existence much sooner and maybe he wouldn't have made so many mistakes with you.

Just MAYBE…

"But isn't (Name) your child?" Dick asked Bruce confused

"Yes, they are" Duke said and everyone turned to look at him so he could continue talking

"They told me, today in fact. They told me about their life before the mansion. They told me that their mother met their father- I mean, (F/N) one day when he came to interview you Bruce" the young man turned to look at them

"And that in fact they're studying journalism like him because they were always inspired by what he did. They have a great memory" he said at the end with a tone of pride knowing that his brother/sister had many gifts even if they didn't realize it

"And how do you know all that?" Damian asked

"I spent the day with them today and they told me about it" Duke said as if it was no big deal

"You... You talk to them?" Tim asked as if he was trying to understand

"Yeah. They helped me a lot when I moved here" he explained

"You said he was studying journalism?" Bruce interrupted

"Yes" Duke nodded

"So if we don't know where he lives we can find out where he studies. Barbara, look up the records of Gotham University on all the journalism students" Bruce asked

"I'm already on it" Barbara nodded and then started typing on the batcomputer

"So... you two are close?" Tim asked Duke surprisingly

"I'd like to think so" Duke laughed a little nervously

"And what do you normally do with them?" With that question everyone started to pay attention even if they didn't look at him

"Well... It depends..." he said "Now that they don't live here anymore we go out to eat and to the arcade and even to the park. We mostly talk but before they left we spent a lot of time in the library, that place was their favorite of the whole mansion because it's more illuminated there. We used to read or they would tell me about some book and even gossip about their friends. From time to time, when you were busy they would train with me or we would also play video games. They are very good with technology and science"

"Did they train with you? Are they also vigilantes like us?" Damian asked for the first time curious about you

"No they are not vigilantes like us" that calmed Bruce down "But they are good at self-defense. They know how to fight"

"But how? I never taught them" Bruce asked

"They are your children Bruce, they are just as good at analysis and observation" then he walked to another monitor and looked for something on the computer. It was a video of both of you training.

In the video you had a sly smile that no one else besides Duke and Alfred had seen on you. While you were dressed in sportswear and some bandages on your knuckles. Duke was just like you, both looking defiant but not intimidating.

"Ready to lose?" Duke told you

"You wish" you smiled with a sly smile

Then you both started to fight, Duke being the first to throw the first blow which you managed to dodge. You both fought for a long time, neither of you giving up easily. After several minutes you both ended up on the ground tired and sweaty.

"Tie?" You suggested, stretching your fist out towards him

"Tie" he nodded, bumping his fist into yours

"You're getting better" you congratulated him

"It's not that bad" Duke said, a little embarrassed with the compliment you gave him

"Of course it is" you patted him on the back "You're getting better pretty fast, I know you'll be able to face Grayson and Todd soon, and maybe one day you'll even be able to match or be better than Bruce"

"Thanks, (Name)" Duke smiled at you

"Don't mention it" you smiled back and stood up

"Shall we take a break?" you offered him a hand to get him up

"Sure" Duke took your hand and stood up

And that was the end of the video Duke was showing them.

"Yeah, they're good training partners," Duke said with a smile.

"I found something," Barbara said, cutting off the tense moment.

Everyone focused on the screen Barbara was working on, looking at a picture of you on the screen and next to it your college information.

"(Name) (L/N), third semester journalism student at Gotham University," Barbara read.

"(L/N)?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, apparently when they turned 18 they changed their last name," Barbara nodded.

He didn't know anything about you, but he was sure of one thing and that was that he had given you his last name.

You weren't a (L/N)

You were a WAYNE

But don't worry, that would soon be fixed.

"But that's not the important thing," Jason said. "Where do they live?"

"They live in an apartment complex near the university" Barbara said

"Send me the address alone" Bruce ordered

"Bruce! / Father! / B!" everyone started to complain but Bruce silenced them with a look

"Don't even start" he warned them "I'm more than sure that if any of you have this information, they will immediately go looking for you but, we must avoid howling at them because they will most likely be furious with all of us"

Everyone looked at the ground at his words, all of them feeling a little bad.

"So let's wait a bit to face them. Now, everyone goes to rest, it's been a tiring day"

Reluctantly, everyone went to rest while the only ones left downstairs were Bruce and Barbara.

"Don't give them the information. It's an order" Bruce told Barbara

"Understood" she nodded

"Okay, now go rest" he said so the girl could go rest too

Then he turned to look at the big screen where your picture was.

You looked so much like your mother and seeing it from that point of view, he was happy, he already had enough with having Damian, who was already very similar to him. He couldn't wait to meet you again after 15 years.

Well as they say, better late than never, right?

Helloooo!

How are you all? I hope everyone liked this chapter! I'll try to post more frecuently. Anyway if you liked this chapter I will invite you leave a heart, reblog or interact in any other way as leaving asks or comments as I would love to heart your opinions and any sugestiones you may have for the story or even theories.

Thank you for reading! See you in the next one!

PD: I have put everyone that has told me to add them in the TAG LIST so please check it out to see If I have make a mistake or something hahahaha.

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

@eyeless-kun @profounddestinyrebel @holyfishbailiffpeanut @toast-on-dandelioms @dhanyasri @kiarst @phoenixgurl030 @wpdarlingpan @glitterisname @sackofsadstuff @riddle-me-im-sirius @sirenetheblogger @bat1212 @bluelock4life @revysplacexxx @skz-goose @mistfire1999 @vanessa-boo @tatsuri-zomushiki @kore-of-the-underworld @milliu @lee-bits @ch1@ch1cky-093 @leiiasurez @bluemidnightmelodies @lilyalone @plsfckmedxddy @lovebug-apple @jisnothere @akanegotlost @stormz369 @sugarpiehoe @mddbsf @shhhhhhhhhhtellnobody @i-adorehannah @darktrashpoetry @fantasyhopperhea @d3sperate-enuf @expctron @horror-lover-69 @caffeinatedhearts12 @niggrroo @v3llev3t3 @cynniee @imhere2dosomething @verypersonadazzel @asillysimp @type-ink @wisefuncherryblossom @haruskrd @angelicbear @zoeyburton @twismare @bad4amficideas @casspen-starlight @gwyneveire @ferchu0406 @erinhan08 @yoopsity @aki-anikk @24-7aroundtheclockanxious @ferntv @hunter-hears-all @gwyneveire @yuyuzi-ling @shirp-collector-of-fixations @welpthisisboring @jellyedkazoo @mellowcloudland @rainwaterxx @lunaetiicsaystuff @ryuushou @butratherbutrather @tiredhealer5 @nemesis-writer @jjsmeowthie @a4g3lstarfire @chibikochannumberone @hayley1234 @thestarry-nightfox @kittzu @sillyheartmoonnyx

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poguelandiarafe · 4 months ago

Text

tough guy | rafe cameron

paring - rafe cameron x gf!reader

warnings - mentions of violence and getting stabbed

summary - rafe is telling you, topper and kelce about his day and brings up the fact he got into yet another fight. you don't like this so decide to put him in his place, knowing you're the only one who can (not set in any particular season).

masterlist

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to anyone else, dating rafe cameron would be scary, a struggle even. he's a man known for his reputation and will do anything to uphold it. whenever he enters a room all eyes are on him and it amazes you how he commands such attention without any effort at all. his features are strong and bold, just like his personality, and it's this that drew you in in the first place. the way he kept everyone at a distance, not letting anyone in.

except you.

you love a challenge and were determined to be let into his world. you're headstrong, stubborn, and know exactly what you want in life, stopping at nothing to get it. you're hot too, of course, but it's your determination that rafe thinks made him fall for you. it's like he's dating himself your personalities are so similar.

and you love to push his buttons, calling him out on whatever dumb shit he does.

--------

you're sitting on the sofa at tannyhill, rafe's arm slung over your shoulder to keep you next to him as he rambles on about another reckless thing he's done today. topper and kelce are scattered around the living room, taking turns to finish the joint you don't want anymore, listening to rafe. they're seemingly invested in whatever he's saying whereas you sit there scrolling through instagram, paying barely any attention to him.

"and then he pulled a knife on me," he laughs, "was fucking crazy."

your ears perk up, throwing his arm off your shoulder and sitting up to properly look at him. he looks at you briefly before going to carry on what he was saying but you cut him off.

"are you fucking crazy?" you ask, finger poking into his chest.

the room goes silent. topper and kelce freezing, in shock you spoke to rafe like that without him immediately shouting at you.

his eyes narrow at you and his brows furrow, "no? what's that meant to mean?"

"you were reckless, rafe. you can't start throwing punches every chance you get. jj literally pulled a fucking knife on you and you're here laughing about it." you say, voice raising from anger.

"you don't tell me what to do." rafe says, jaw clenched from being spoken to like that in front of his friends.

you match his intense stare, "i think i have every right to if you're putting yourself in a situation where you could die."

"he tried to sink my boat, i'm not just letting that shit slide! it's not like he'd actu-" he starts before you cut him off.

"don't you dare say he wasn't serious! what if he was, huh?" you snap, getting up and standing in front of him, "what if he actually stabbed you and i got a phone call saying you were in hopsital or that your body had been found? then what?"

it's quiet for a moment, rafe thinking over what you said. he feels guilty now, not really thinking about the consequences if something were to actually have happened, his adrenaline having clouded his rational judgement at the time.

"alright, alright. i get it baby. i'm sorry." he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"you're not invincible just because you're rafe cameron. i don't want anything to happen to you."

he stands up, pulling you into him but you don't budge, arms crossed over your chest.

"i'm sorry for being reckless," he whispers into your hair, before he smirks, "but don't act like you don't love that i'm rafe cameron."

you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him now, "not when you're acting like this, i don't. just... promise to cool it. it hurts me when you come home covered in blood and bruises from yet another fight you've been in."

"okay, i promise i'll try. you're lucky you're hot." he mutters.

"you're lucky i put up with your shit." you counter, a smile on your lips.

while you and rafe were busy arguing, topper and kelce were silently smoking the joint, sharing looks every so often as they listened in.

"how does she get away with speaking to him like that?" topper whispers to kelce in disbelief.

"i have something he can't live without." you quip with a wink, overhearing him.

"okay, gross." kelce says.

"his words." you shrug.

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dark-night-hero · 1 month ago

Text

Imagine being Sung Jinwoo's spouse who suddenly got thrown into another universe where you don't exist and happened to meet someone who looks exactly, after your husband.

Imagine walking on your way home with your husband and then all of a sudden, you found yourself falling, the last words you have heard was your husband calling out your name. In which you did the say, callig out your husband name instinctively within the first few seconds you were falling. But after a few more minutes of falling, here you are, falling in the midst of darkness. Crossing your arms in annoyance, thinking of what kind of scenario were you sent into.

Imagine zooming in, looking down. You realise you were getting closer to the ground and not just it. There was a man you are about to fall into, "Hey! Watch out!" You would be okay if you land on your one, but you're afraid that if you happened to hit someone with the speed you're going down, you might ended up hurting them. But it was already too late by the time he looked up. "SHIT!" "I told you to watch out!"

Imagine finding yourself in the midst of a dungeon. The young man across you be looking very familiar, like he took it right after your husband. "What?" He asked, taking another bite of the food you had just cooked inside the dungeon. It has been a few hours ever since you crushed into this man. A few hours since you were separated with Jinwoo. Its been a few hours since you realised you've been thrown into a different alternate universe.

"Nothing." You look away. A universe where Jinwo has a brother? No, he doesn't look like his brother. If anything, you could guess who he was. "I doubt it was nothing-" "Come to think of you, you look very young... but well off. You should enjoy your youth, where are your parents? Why are you inside a dungeon by this age?" Taken back by your questions, he look away. "They're gone." "What? Like dead?" "I don't know, they're missing. I'm trying to find them." "Oh."

Imagine for the first time, in comparison to the fierce and competent young man that was leading and fighting earlier. The man in front of you looks vulnerable, like a son longing fornhis parents. Maybe it was his face that made your heart soften even more. Standing up from your seat, you sat down right beside him and gave him a comforting hug from the side. "Hey, hey, kid. It's alright. You'll find them." You gently pat him on the back. "(First name)!"

Imagine looking back at the familiar voice only to find your husband frowning as he hurriedly approached your direction. Withdrawing gently from the young man kid, who finally felt the approaching man from behind, he sat up straight and was about to turn to look at him when he catch a glimpse of arm on his side, arm which was now wrapping you into a hug as the man knelt down to your level. "Thank goodness I found you." "Ji- darling. It's okay, it's alright. You found me." You chuckle returning the hug and patting him on the back, giving the shocked kid right beside you an apologising gaze.

"Woah, the two of you..." looked a like... You thought but did not dare say it out loud. Jinwo was sitting next to the young man whom you have learned that his name was Suho. Both were Sung which means all of your thoughts were right all along. He was... the son of Jinwo in his universe. "What?" Jinwoo asked. "Nothing." You smile. How cute. Though the fact that Suho does not seem to recognise his own father, although in a different universe and probably in a much younger appearance seemed quite bothersome yet relieving at the same time. "Come to think of it, Suho-ah what are you doing in here? Why are you all alone?"

Imagine it turns out the kid had already gone through the dungeon once and reentered to see if there was any survivors inside but only found you in the process as well as come across Jinwoo who was looking for you. In the end, Jinwoo and you decided to accompany him as he deep dive into the dungeon. "How did you find me?" "I manage to squeeze in thanks to the fragments of the shadow monarch. But mostly because you left traces all over that leads me to you." He sigh, taking your hand closer to his face and nuzzle to it causing you to smile softly at him. "Don't worry, I'm alright. If anything, I'm worried about thay little guy." You nudge at the direction of Suho. "Ah." Jinwo just looked at the back of the young man.

Imagine in the process of exploring the cave, Jinwo realised that this was a place he more familiar with as this was the place had come across and killed the monarchs. Leading him into telling and explaining Suho what was this all about. You just follow them from behind, looking at the two fondly as Jinwoo helped Suho gain a better understanding of everything, even helped him made pack with Rakan's fang enabling him to use it. "Hey you two, enough of that. Food's ready." "Yes." "We'll be there in a minute babe." "I told you not to call me that."

Imagine after a all the exploration and quest inside the dungeon, it was finally your time to part ways as the three of you stand right infront of the dungeon gate. "I'm afraid this is as far as we can go with you, sweetheart." You looked at the young man softly. It was short while but it seems like you grew fond of the kid. "That is to say, the two of you aren't exactly from here." "You knew it all along you pun-" "Father." That made Jinwoo pause.

Imagine Sung Suho who manage to connect the dots and knew it all along this time. "You're my father at the same time, you aren't my father." He explained calmly. Then Suho faced you who still has a relax and gentle look on your face. "You aren't my mother." You have him a small yet genuine smile, because that was the truth. You knew he was Jinwoo's son, but this kid weren't yours and probably would never be. "There wasn't a (Firstname)(Lastname) in this world, so you cannot be my mother." He explained. By that you could feel the way Jinwoo shifted closer to you than he was earlier. But you turn to look at him and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Aren't you confused by that fact?" "Hmm? That my father- he was married to you than my mother? Not really." "Why is that?" "Because-.." because Suho had never seen his father in this world looked at you the same way this alternative universe Sung Jinwoo look at anyone else. While its true that his father love his mother in this world. The way this Sung Jinwo right in front of him looks like you was nothing he have ever seen before. This version of his father looked so in love, so contented, so genuine like he has everything in front of him when he looks at you. "Because?" "Nothing."

Imagine the way Suho let out a genuine laugh which has been a while. After everything that has been happening, its been a while since he have someone looking after him like his parents used to do before they went missing. "You two should probably get going, I alreay took too much of your time-" he was cut off by a bone crushing hug by you. "It was nice meeting you. Always be careful, okay?" "Hey, listen to them you punk." Jinwoo messed with hair before joining the hug and then pulling you away from Suho. "We'll stay here until you get out safely." Jinwoo added. "So go-" "Wait! Here, take this." You have Suho a pocket watch. "This-" "Take it. I'm leaving it with you." "Then... thank you."

Imagine as Suho looked back and forth between the gate and you two. He give you two the brightest smile he have before saying "I know you aren't really by father but... Father, please look after them and never let them go, okay?" "You have my words, son." With a little bit of regret, Suho left. If he was being honest, he's quite jealous by the fact that he probably wouldn't even become your son back in your world.

"He's a good kid." "Hmmm." Jinwoo nod as the two of you find yourself back in your own universe. "Who knows, maybe if we try hard enough he'll end up as our child." "I'm not even his-" "Does it bother you? We could always try and try until-" "You silly punk. Do you think it qould be ea- Sung Jinwo! Set me down you-" "Nope, nope nope. We're taking this to bed."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: this is my biggest what if.

#dark night hero #solo leveling imagines #solo leveling fanfic #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #solo leveling ragnarok suho #sung suho #sung jinwoo imagine #jinwoo sung x reader #solo leveling sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo imagines #jinwo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jin woo

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explicit-tae · 22 days ago

Text

Family Matters

The only way Yoongi, your brother-in-law, would agree to be your sperm donor is if he could be the one to fuck said sperm into you.

Word Count: 8.686

Warning: affair/cheating, kissing, light alcohol intake, dirty talking, impregnation kink, oral sex (f/m) nipple sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, doggystyle, orgasms,

Valentine's Day Masterlist

“Y/N…?”

The last person he was expecting to see at his door was you, his brother’s wife. The same brother he is currently estranged from thanks to his parents, who had pinned them against one another the entirety of their lives.

Yo-han, Yoongi’s older brother, wasn’t the prodigal son in their parents' eyes. Yoongi was. Yo-han did exactly what was expected of him. He had high grades in school while Yoongi didn’t, though it didn’t mean he didn’t pass. Yo-han went above and beyond with his studies while Yoongi did enough to pass. His B’s didn’t compare to his brothers A’s.

Yo-han went to college and was on the dean’s list. He worked his way up from the bottom just as his parents desired. He had a high paying job right outside of college and was able to give back to the parents that gave everything they could to their two sons.

Yoongi, however, went down an unforgivable path. How dare their son have his own dreams and aspirations. How dare he not want to go to college like his elder brother and work his way up the corporate ladder? Why would he spend nearly a decade of his life pursuing a career in music when obviously that wasn’t going to take him anywhere in life?

Even now, after his music did take off and touring the world, there was a loneliness in him. He felt that even now that he’s proven himself worthy, his parent’s didn’t think so.

“Yoongi.” you flash him a smile, holding onto your purse a bit tighter. You’re unsure if you being here was appropriate. You’ve only ever seen Yoongi a handful of times, all in which was left with the man leaving far too early. He wasn’t even present on your wedding day. “Are you busy?”

Yoongi blinks a few times and proceeds to open the door to his home a bit wider. “Did you want to come in?” he asks, uncertain if that’s what you wanted.

“Yes, thank you!” you nod. “I wanted to talk to you about something if that was okay with you?”

Yoongi steps out of the way as you enter, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor as you enter the foyer of his home. You take them off, turning towards Yoongi with a small grin.

“I don’t mean to seem rude, Y/N,” Yoongi begins, closing the front door to his home. It’s lavish, you’d admit, high ceilings and furnished quite modernly. “but why are you here? Is Yo-han okay?”

Yoongi allows you to come deeper into his home. The living space is large and homely. He offers you a seat on his leather chair and he rounds the corner to a bar area where there’s an array of wine aligning the wall.

“Wine?” Yoongi questions. “I have…harder liquor, too.” he’s a bit awkward when speaking with you. You were his brother’s wife for nearly five years now and he has no relationship with you.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Whiskey it is then.”

Wasn’t expecting that, especially at this time, but you aren’t going to complain. Yoongi places two clear cups onto the coffee table in front of each of you as he sits across from you. He pours the whiskey in two clear glasses and slides you one.

“What do I owe the visit, Y/N?” Yoongi asks, taking a sip of his drink.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” you murmur, manicured hands grasping the glass and shaking it around a bit. “Yo-han doesn’t know I’m here. He’s on a business trip.”

Yoongi furrows a brow. He watches you for a moment, pondering why you are telling him all of this and what was the real reason you were here.

“You…are a very amazing artist.”

Yoongi blinks.

“Did you come all this way to tell me that?” Yoongi questions with a scoff.

“No, I’m sorry.” you murmur. You drink the whiskey in whole. It hits your throat and burns immediately, but you need all the liquid courage available. “Can I have more?”

Nodding slowly, Yoongi watches as you pour yourself more and down half of it. Your chest heaves a bit.

“Is everything okay, Y/N? You look nervous?” Yoongi notes. “Is everything alright with you and Yo-han?”

You nod hastily with a wave. “Yes, everything is fine. Promise.” you laugh, but even you sound unsure of yourself.

Yoongi doesn’t pry any further.

“You don’t come around often, Yoongi.” you state. “I feel as if I don’t truly know you personally. I see you as Suga. Or Agust D.”

Yoongi furrows his brows. Was that why you’re here? To get to know him better? Even after all these years he finds it unbelievable, but possible.

“I’m aware. I’m sure you know I’m not the favorite.” Yoongi responds, almost bitterly. “Even after the home I bought my parents.”

The last line was uncalled for. By social media posts, Yoongi’s sure you have a good relationship with his parents, but everything that glitter isn’t exactly gold, right?

“Yo-han speaks of you fondly.”

“Does he?” Yoongi snickers. He drinks the whiskey and decides that he should probably follow your lead. “That’s nice to know, right? My older brother finally sees me as worthy enough to speak about after my success.”

Your foot taps lightly against the floor in nervousness. You bite your lip. Was this the right thing to ask without your husband's approval? You knew Yo-han loved his brother, but at times he would joke about how long it took for Yoongi’s music to take off, no matter how good said music was.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Yoongi is silent on your question. It comes randomly after a few moments of silent drinking.

“I apologize if that’s too personal-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Yoongi shakes his head. “No, I do not. I often shut myself into my craft too long. I’m a perfectionist and I don’t really have time to settle down.”

You nod in agreement. You noticed in Yoongi’s music how serious he took it - the touring, as well. Having a family wasn’t something he desired now and you could respect it fully.

“What about you and Yo-han?” Yoongi speaks up. “Are you trying for a baby? My mother always said she wanted to be a grandmother.” he chuckles a bit at how hard his mother can be.

You inhale deeply, placing the cup onto the coffee table. Exhaling, you nod your head.

“That’s what I wanted to speak with you about, actually.”

“Oh?” Yoongi furrows a single brow. He leans back into his seat. “I take it as you aren’t pregnant now for obvious reason.” he says, motioning to the liquor on the coffee table and your empty glass.

“You’re right, not yet.” you chuckle humorlessly. You needed to do this. No going back. After all, the worst thing Yoongi could say was “no” and that would be perfectly fine with you. “Yo-han works a lot.”

Yoongi nods a bit. “I understand. Our family can be workaholics.” he says. “He couldn’t take Valentine’s Day off?” he jokes a bit. Valentine’s day didn’t matter to people like him. He was single.

“He never does.” you admit, crossing your legs. Yoongi tilts his head, observing the look in your eyes. “We tend to celebrate it the first week of February then he’s out of town for work the following week.”

“You can’t go with him?” Yoongi questions with a shrug. He knows you don’t work. Yo-han had always stated that he wanted a stay at home wife. Life could be boring for you, he’s sure. You were alone often and didn’t have anything to do if you weren’t one that was big on hobbies.

“Yo-han prefers for me to stay home.”

“You say his name a lot.” Yoongi hums. He pours himself another shot. “You say what he wants a lot, too, Y/N. You haven’t said anything you wanted yet.”

You bite your bottom lip as Yoongi states the obvious. He drinks his whiskey as he watches you, awaiting for you to respond.

“I want a baby.”

Yoongi licks his lips of the whiskey. It’s beginning to fall down his throat like water now.

“That’s nice. Are you two trying for one?”

Speaking with you was becoming more relaxing. He wished he would have more of a brother/sister-in-law relationship with you prior to now, but maybe you coming here was an attempt in doing just that.

“Yo-han-”

“Doesn’t want kids? Doesn’t want kids now?” Yoongi finishes your sentence with a furrow of his brows. His lips turn into a smirk. “Am I right?”

“You are.” you sigh, body warm with embarrassment. “He…he’s very cautious. He doesn’t even…” Should you be discussing your husband with his brother like this? “...allow himself to not wear condoms.”

Yoongi doesn’t want to appear rude when he laughs, but it sounds exactly like the Yo-han he knows. The same Yo-han that doesn’t want to have anyone stop him from climbing to the top - not even if it’s what his own wife wants. The same wife he forces to stay home alone half of the time. You couldn’t make any of this up.

“I was correct when I said everything that glitter isn’t gold.” Yoongi murmurs to himself, deciding to pour himself another shot. This time, he pours you one. Seemed like you needed it. “Do you have friends?”

You scoff at his question, taking the glass and downing the shot alongside him. “Are you calling me a lonely bitch?”

Yoongi laughs aloud while shaking his head. “Of course not!” he exclaims. “You being here…is not what I expected. It’s nice, though. Not everyone can keep up with drinking with me.”

You notice how much Yoongi and Yo-han looked alike. The dark hair that frames their face with eyes to match. Pale, smooth skin that appears like glass as it’s clear of blemishes. Yoongi was much more youthful, allowing himself to joke with you in a way your husband doesn’t.

“My friends are all busy with their own lives and children.” you state with a shrug. “I’m sorry I’ve come unannounced.”

“You’re always welcomed, Y/N. You’re family.” Yoongi waves off. “You’re the only family that comes.”

The pair of you both sound bitter for your own reasonings. Wishing to ask him something makes your heart jolt in betrayal as you hadn’t bothered to gain a relationship with your brother-in-law prior to now. It made you appear selfish as this was your only goal.

“Why the long face?”

Yoongi’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“I feel selfish for being here.” you admit. ‘’I came…to ask you something.”

Yoongi blinks. “That’s okay.” he says, placing his glass down onto the coffee table. “What do you need?”

Your palms grow sweaty as Yoongi appears genuinely willing to help. The years you’ve sat and listened to your husband bash his younger brother for not having the same aspirations of him makes you wish you spoke up on his behalf more often.

“Y/N…?”

“I wanted your sperm so I can have a baby.” you blurt out, embarrassment flowing throughout your entire body. He possibly thinks you’re in need of money and here you are asking for his sperm. “But now I know I sound like a fucking lunatic asking you-”

“Y/N,”

“-and I should just go now, right?” you laugh nervously with a shake of your head. “Yo-han doesn’t want kids and me pretending that this child is his isn’t fair to him or you-”

“Y/N.”

“-and I’m such a bitch for-”

“Y/N!”

You stop your rambling with Yoongi’s voice echoing off of his walls and high ceiling.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice. You weren’t listening to me.” Yoongi apologizes.

“You’re not the asshole they make you out to be.” you blurt out. Maybe this was the alcohol talking now, allowing you not to hold in anything any longer. “I’m sorry-”

“None taken.” Yoongi snickers. He knows how he is spoken about in his family and it doesn’t bother him as it once did, even if it does still sting a bit.

“Please forget I said anything, Yoongi.”

“Why?”

You freeze at Yoongi’s question. Slowly, your eyes lift to his, to find that he’s already looking your way.

“You want a baby, right?” Yoongi asks. “You’ve come to me for help.”

“I do…” you trail off. “But coming to you was selfish-”

“I’ll do it.”

You stare at Yoongi in disbelief. Maybe he was just drunk and agreeing to it because it sounds like the right thing to do at the moment.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” you queried.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” he shots back. “I agreed.”

“I…I wasn’t expecting to get this far, Yoongi.” you murmur. You lean up a bit, eyes cloudy.

Yoongi chuckles at your reaction. It’s sad that he was going to make his own proposition to this.

“How did you expect to go about this exactly?”

“Well,” you lift yourself up to round the coffee table to sit beside Yoongi on his loveseat. “we can go to a clinic, right? You can…ejaculate-”

“Cum.”

Your body warms once more, but you nod your head with a little laugh. “Yes. Cum.” you say. “In a cup and I suppose the doctor can-”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Yoongi thinks for a moment that it isn’t fair to you with what he’s about to say next. It isn’t your fault that you were married into this family of his, nor should he take the frustration of his brother out on you. But he wouldn’t force anything onto you, and once he sobered up more, he would do as you asked and go to a clinic.

But as for now, Yoongi was being selfish.

“I want to do it naturally.”

The silence that comes afterwards is telling. You could hear a pin drop in the living area. Your eyes slowly wide towards Yoongi as he watches you as relaxed as ever.

“You want to fuck me?’

Maybe your response is crude, but his proposal was, as well. You were married to his brother and this would obviously be inappropriate.

However, so were you coming here behind your husband's back. It was a lose-lose situation either way.

“I know it’s wrong to want.” Yoongi admits, leaning into the leather couch. “But…”

Yoongi doesn’t finish his statement but you’re positive you understand what he’s attempting to say. You admitted to the things said about him and now it’s a form of revenge. You couldn’t be upset about it, truly.

“You…you won’t tell anyone?” you whisper, so low that it barely catches Yoongi’s ears. “It’ll be a secret you and I die on, right?”

Yoongi himself is astonished that you’re even considering it. He leans forward a bit with a lick of his lips.

“I won’t tell a soul.” Yoongi murmurs. “I’m not forcing you into doing this, Y/N. I’m a little drunk, I’m not going to lie.” he advises. Looking into your eyes, he doesn’t want to be that person. You’re already taken advantage of enough by your husband. “You can come back in a few hours when I sober up and we can set up a meeting-”

“I want to.” you place a hand onto Yoongi’s cheek to silence him. “I want you to fuck a baby into me.”

Yoongi is but a man, and the words alone cause him to grow hard. He doesn’t act first, you do. You place your lips onto his, deepening the kiss needily. Maybe it was because you wanted to feel a man's hands on you, as selfish as it was. You missed your husband and only sleeping with him once a month before he eventually goes on another work trip causes you to be lonely.

Yoongi himself cannot remember when he’s been with a woman. He has random hookups that always signed with an NDA before anything happens, but that’s during tour, not as he’s recording an album. The liquor flowing through him adds the courage to wrap both arms around you and bring you into his lap.

Yoongi’s hands are large as they rub along your body, causing moans to bubble up your throat but fall silent at your lips. This was wrong in so many ways. You are his sister-in-law, and beyond popular belief, he held a lot of respect for you. Only a strong woman could deal with Min Yo-han and his parents. However, the dirty words that you spoke to him were so tempting. He believes every man - even if they want a child or not - has a certain kink to them that is excited to impregnate a woman.

Yoongi isn’t alone with the same thoughts. Yo-han and Yoongi favored each other so much, but were so different. Yo-han is often straight to the point, sometimes not even kissing you. Yoongi is different, he takes this slow. He allows his hands to roam your body with such greed, as if it belongs to him - and for tonight, it does. He kisses your lips needily, but he savors the taste of them. He allows his lips to fall onto your chin to leave wet little pecks that lower to your neck.

“There’s no going back, Y/N.”

Yoongi’s voice is so deep against your neck. He’s fighting against his morals now, wanting nothing more than to fuck you like you want him to. Yet, he understands that this is wrong to take advantage of you in a vulnerable position. You didn’t come here for this.

“I know.” you moan back, your hips buckling. “Do you want to stop?”

Yoongi swallows. His hands settle onto your waist. “We…should…” he murmurs. As painful as it was for him to say. His hands grip onto your waist, his body going against what his mouth is speaking. “...we should stop this but…” he groans, his lips kissing against your neck.

“No one has to know.” you respond, your own hands tugging at Yoongi’s dark tresses a bit.

Yoongi will know, and so will you. When you fall pregnant and grow round with his child, he would know that it was him who did it for you. When you hold the child and raise it, it would be dark eyes that belonged to Yoongi, not Yo-han.

Was that something both of you could fathom?

“If this is truly what you want.” Yoongi mumbles. “We don’t have to do it here.”

Yoongi leans his head back to study your expression.

“We can go to my room.” Yoongi continued, unsure if that was too much. Yet, all of this was too much to begin with.

“Okay.” you nod your head.

“How do you want to do this?”

Yoongi’s room is large, even bigger than your room at your home. It’s simple and screams Yoongi with a dark aesthetic. The bed is large for one man and is neatly made, as if he doesn’t sleep in here often. Maybe he didn’t as even if Yoongi and Yo-han were different, they were both Min’s and they worked their asses off.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sitting on his bed.

“We can just…have sex for the sake of me cumming in you.” Yoongi does the same as you. “Or we can do more…”

Your thighs clench together a bit, body warming.

“What do you want to do?” you ask him with a tilt of your head.

“I want to eat you out.” Yoongi responds bluntly that it causes you to laugh at how straightforward he was. “But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

You remove your shirt and throw it aside and go to do the same for your pants. Yoongi watches with low eyes as you begin to undress.

“Yo-han is too straight-forward.” you say to Yoongi, inching your way towards him. You place a hand onto his shoulders, placing your lips on his in a short, but needy kiss. “He doesn’t tend to do…a lot.”

Keyword for he tends to just worry about his own needs; Yoongi understands. He acts in a way he interprets you want him to. He pushes you onto his bed, the silk sheets cool at the touch, but otherwise comfortable. He wraps your smooth legs around his waist, his bulge pressed firmly against you.

You groan at how hard Yoongi was, arms wrapped around his neck.

Yoongi is a man starved, his hands going to remove your bra and throw it aside.

“I’d fuck you every night if you were my wife.” Yoongi gruffs, his tongue trailing down to your chest. Your nipples are hard for him and he wastes no time in suckling on the first one he finds.

There’s adrenaline flowing through the both of you at this forbidden act. The way you moan so loudly for Yoongi to continue to suckle on breasts that didn’t belong to him. The way he does so effortlessly, appearing as starved for this as you were.

Yoongi can suckle onto your breast all night until they’re swollen, but there’s another place he wants to put his lips on.

The feeling of Yoongi’s wet lips against your skin causes you to groan. It’s all entirely too surreal to fully grasp, especially on how willing Yoongi is to do this with you. How sudden it happened, without much thought. You could blame this on a drunken night, but that would only be a lie. You both were coherent enough to know what you were doing - and how much the both of you truly wanted to do this.

“W-What?”

Yoongi blinks his eyes a few times as your voice reaches his ears.

Your head lifted a bit from his bed when you noticed Yoongi had stopped between your legs and hadn’t done anything.

“Sorry,” Yoongi murmurs, placing his lips onto your inner thighs and gently pressing a kiss. “You’re very….pretty.”

Yoongi’s cheeks dusted a soft pink color at his own words and before you can react and possibly make this entire situation more awkward, his tongue licks between your folds. Your back arches a bit at the warmth of his tongue, but you don’t have time to process it.

Yoongi suckles onto your clit with such determination, large hands grasping both of your thighs so you aren’t able to move from him.

Yoongi misses hearing a woman move for him. He was prone to lock himself away when he was busy working for months at a time. He was dedicated to his craft and while he was in the midst of recording an album, he didn’t need to be distracted. You, however, were the perfect distraction.

Yoongi focuses solely on the way your thighs quiver as his tongue toys with your clit. His eyes flicker upward a bit, catching a glimpse of the way your mouth falls open to let out such melodic moans.

“I want you to cum on my tongue before I fuck mine in you.”

Your body shudders at such dirty words coming from your brother-in-law. Yoongi wasn’t a man of many words, especially not the times you’ve met him. Yet, here he was now. So confident and cool, a side so different from the mysterious demeanor he always held.

Dare you say you liked this Yoongi.

“Your tongue feels so good.” you gasp out, your stomach churning. Were you making it obvious that you weren’t used to this?

Yoongi already knows, of course. Even if you didn’t tell him, he notices just by the way you continue to act. Your hands are unsure where to go - one moment they’re clenching the bedsheets to yanking at his scalp; acts he doesn’t mind.

Yoongi leans back a bit, licking his lips of your juices. “Yeah?” he says smug, thumb pressing against your swollen clit. He rubs it gently just to tease you, tilting his head. “You wanna sit on it?”

The seriousness of Yoongi's tone stops you from giggling at what sounds like it could be a joke. You blink your eyes open.

“On your…” you’re confused on what exactly he wants you to sit on.

“My face.” Yoongi deadpans. His dark eyes reach yours and he offers a low smirk. “Mind as well make the most of it.”

“Oh…okay.”

You don’t want to sound too eager, but it’s not a position you’ve ever been in. After all, Yoongi was right. The both of you mind as well make the most of this fucked up situation.

“Good.” Yoongi hums, lying beside you. “Face me.”

You’re far too conscious to actually sit on Yoongi’s face as he wants you to as the position itself is awkward. Your thighs quiver slightly and before you can ask if this was right, Yoongi’s hands - large and veiny - grasp onto your hips to press you down against his tongue. His eyes watch for your reaction, especially when you gasp out at his actions.

Yoongi’s willingness to eat you out is beyond the alcohol now - he actually wants to do this. He licks onto your clit as if he’s starved, his large hands gripping your hips to roaming down to your thighs.

It’s deeper than that, of course. It’s deeper than Yoongi just wanting to pleasure you. He does, of course. But down within his core that he doesn’t want to admit, even to himself, Yoongi knows it’s about his brother. Even if Yo-han was the preferred son with a high paying job that his parents preferred, it was him you chose to go to. Min Yoongi, the younger Min son who decided that his love for music outweighed what he felt for his own family that dubbed him an outcast.

It was Yoongi who was pleasuring you now, his tongue flat against your clit, his head bobbing from side to side as his large hands grip at your naked skin.

It was Yoongi who you were moaning so lovingly for, your delicate hands gripping his hair in your grasp, fluttering eyes watching him.

It was him - Yoongi. The one who his family deemed unworthy and yet, here you are. You sought him out to impregnate you - something his brother couldn’t (or refused) to do. And he was going to enjoy every fucked up minute of it. In the end when it was time for him to meet his maker, he would pay for this sin he willingly partaken in.

Yoongi is painfully hard, his cock tight in his sweatpants. It twitches to be released - but he had all night with you. His brother wasn’t home and there wasn’t a rush, right?

“Yoon…Yoongi…” you moan his name so sweet that Yoongi groans against your clit, his hands roaming towards your ass. When he grips it do you moan his name once more, your eyes clenching shut.

Your hips begin to buckle a bit against his tongue, and Yoongi further encourages you by slapping your ass a bit teasingly. Your head hangs back a bit, soft “fuck” and “shit” coming from your gasping lips. You don’t realize just how loud you were becoming after each buckle of your hips, no longer feeling as self-conscious as you were originally - nor did Yoongi mind, either.

“Feels so good…” you hum, your hanging head now falling forward to look down at the man who’s causing you such great pleasure. Your eyes lock with his dark ones and you bite your lip a bit. “...we shouldn't be doing this.”

It was a statement. Neither of you stop and Yoongi’s hands only glide upwards to grasp your breast in his hands, squeezing them with such need. Your free hand places itself on top of his larger one, your walls clenching around nothing in general and you’re positive that you were going to cum soon.

You never cum from oral before and the thought just causes you to squeal.

You were hot, Yoongi thinks. Utterly gorgeous that it upsets him that this was going to be the only time he was going to have you on his tongue. His tongue laps between your folds with such haste and need, determined to make you cum so he can taste what his brother doesn’t deserve. To think that his brother once flaunted you around with his arm around you just for you to be here with him.

You’re cumming entirely too fast for your liking, your toes curling. You stopped grinding against his tongue and instead allowed Yoongi to regain control, his free hand gripping your outer thigh and slightly lifting himself forward. He suckles roughly onto your sensitive bud until your thighs are shaking with overstimulation. Your breathing is hitched, your stomach clenching.

Yoongi is satisfied when you cum, spewing a line of curse words that a woman like you surely would never use. His entire lips and chin is coated with your juices when he finally allows a moment to rest, your body falling onto his bed.

Licking his lips, Yoongi glances your way.

“My brother must not make you cum enough.” he murmurs, dark eyes watching with satisfaction.

You don’t respond to Yoongi. You understand the bitterness in his tone. You don’t blame Yoongi for speaking of his brother the way he does. Your husband, in shorter words, can be an asshole. Especially to those he feels as though he is better than.

Or jealous of.

“I love him.” you say. It’s been a full five minutes before you respond to him. You managed to stop your thighs from quivering enough for your body to sit up. “I don’t doubt it.” Yoongi says. He watches you with hooded eyes as you crawl towards him until you’re hovering above him.

“He’s jealous of you.”

You’re unsure why you’re telling Yoongi this. It’s going to do nothing but feed his ego more in knowing this along with fucking his wife.

“He…would say he never knew you would be this successful.” you tell him, leaning down to press a deep kiss against his lips. You can taste yourself, and the act turned you on even further.

Instantly, Yoongi wraps his arms around you. His hands rub along your smooth skin.

“I always knew you’d be successful.”

Your words cause Yoongi’s breath to hitch when you lean yourself away from him. Your lips kiss along his own jaw.

“The way you speak makes me feel like you wanted this longer than you make out.”

Your tongue slowly trails along his chin before dipping down to his neck.

“And if I did?”

Your tongue proceeds to trace the outline of his ear. Goosebumps erupt on his skin.

“I’ll fuck you right now, Y/N.” Yoongi grumbles, his fingernails digging into your hips and he thrusts his clothed cock towards your naked clit.

“I want to suck your cock first.”

You move faster than Yoongi can process. You’re already sliding down his body and hooking your hands beneath his pants to tug them down.

You should be expecting Yoongi to be aroused, but not this erect. His cock looks like it hurts with how fast it springs out of his underwear. The tip is leaking pre-cum and it twitches when you wrap a hand around the base.

Yoongi hisses when your warm tongue wraps around his tip, suckling it like a lolipop. His eyes instantly roll, not remembering the last time he felt a woman’s mouth. He always was told that he worked too hard and he couldn’t help it - especially since he was a Min. You came to Yoongi during a vulnerable time of need and it was no wonder he didn’t deny you.

“Shit, Y/N…”

You take his cock deeper into your mouth, bobbing your head sloppily as you suckle on his cock. The sounds of your gurgling mixed with Yoongi’s moans and curse words has you dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t recall the last time you were this wet for your own husband.

Your eyes flicker upwards to watch Yoongi’s face. So handsome and reminiscent of Yo-han. His dark hair falls into his eyes, pink lips falling open to let out lustful moans.

Your sucking and slurping erupted throughout the room, sounding just as sloppy as it looks.

You don’t usually do this yourself - not because you don’t like it. You enjoy the lewd act immensely. You just refused to do it if your husband wouldn’t do the same. Yoongi so willing to go down on you caused you to want to do the same for him, the tip of his cock deep in your throat now. Your eyes are glossy with tears and determination, wanting to please the man just as he was determined to pleasure you.

“I’m not…” Yoongi hisses, a veiny hand going to grasp your hair to stop you. “...not cumming in your mouth, baby.”

Yoongi forces his cock - as much as he didn’t want to - out from your greedy lips. Saliva draws down the corner of your mouth, connecting it to his tip. Yoongi pants and shakes his head.

The pet name Yoongi calls you wants you to bring the cock right back into your mouth. It sounds so good coming from Yoongi, so natural. As if it’s a pet name he called you often.

“I’m gonna cum in you.”

“Please.” you beg, licking your lips. “Want you to fill me.”

Yoongi groans, his cock twitching. His hand is still tangled in your hair and he grips it a bit tighter. He takes a deep breath.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Yoongi questions. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Yoongi and his need to assure that you were comfortable was heartwarming. It nearly causes you to smile.

“Are you the vanilla type?” you joke.

“I’m whatever you’d want me to be.” Yoongi chuckles. His mind flashes with different ways he could have you - both passionately and disrespectfully.

Your hands, that lay on his thigh, slide forward. Past his torso to grip his shoulders.

“Follow my lead.” you say, getting to your feet just to sit onto his lap. Your clit is directly against his cock and you want nothing more than to grind against him, but this wasn’t the moment. You needed to feel him inside of you.

Yoongi does as you say, going to push off his pants so he can maneuver better. His hands lay upon your hips as you sit upon him, bringing his cock inside of you slowly. Yoongi lets out a low and deep groan, your pussy gripping around him so tightly.

Yoongi didn’t have a wife and that meant the sex he did have was just casual sex with women who signed NDA’s and wore condoms.

Now, however, it was different. This might be a one time thing, but to get to feel your pussy, so wet and warm wrapped around his cock was amazing. How could his brother not want to be inside of you at any given moment? How could he restrain himself from feeling you raw? Surely there had to be other forms of birth control besides a condom.

You’re needy to feel him deep inside of you, your arms wrapping around his neck as you begin to pounce. Your pussy clenches with each thrust, rising and falling sloppily.

“Your pussy’s so wet.” Yoongi quips, voice deeper. His breathing is deep and his arms only tighten around your frame. His palms roam your naked skin greedily.

You lean forward to place your lips against his, your tongue forcing your way through his lips. Your bare chest presses against his clothed one.

“Your cock feels so good.” you say between hushed kisses. You begin to shift yourself, your feet planted on the bed either side of him.

This was bad.

You shouldn’t be here or agreed to this.

You shouldn’t have allowed Yoongi to eat you out and you shouldn’t have sucked his cock.

It was far too late now, of course. There was no going back; especially with his cock plunging so deep inside of you.

Yoongi’s eyes roll with pleasure with each rise and fall of your hips. Skin slapping erupts throughout the room, followed by your squeals and his grunts.

“My brother doesn’t deserve this.”

It’s difficult for Yoongi not to mention your husband, and maybe the sick side of you that knew this was wrong acknowledged that deep down, you enjoyed Yoongi’s praises. It was something you didn’t experience at home.

“You do?” you ask with a curt, smug snort and soon a soft moan.

Yoongi’s cock was stretching you out in a way you needed, even if it had been just a few short weeks. Sex with Yoongi, though a one time thing, was something you didn’t know you needed until now. You rise and fall against his cock, pussy squeezing with such pleasure and desire that Yoongi’s nails dig into the skin of your hips. It was evident that neither of you wanted to stop.

“I do.” Yoongi hisses, this time meeting you halfway. The added thrusts coming from the man has his cock digging even deeper, hitting a spot that you weren’t sure was possible until now. “Isn’t this what you’re here for?”

You don’t respond to him, and it causes Yoongi to become even more smugged. You never took Yoongi as the dominant type - yet again, you never thought about sex with Yoongi until the possibility presented itself to you.

Yoongi hooks both arms underneath your thighs and flips you and him. You’re on your back now and him hovering right above you. You gasp at the sudden change of position. However, having Min Yoongi hovering above you was well worth it. He enters you without a second thought, the feeling intensifying when he begins to thrust in you.

“Fuck,” Yoongi growls, his head hanging as his eyes watch the way the both of you connect to one another. His cock springs in and out of you needily, your cunt so wet and gushing with juices. “your pussy is so wet and ready to be bred.”

Yoongi feels the way you clench around him at his words - such filthy words that turn the both of you on. You didn’t know just how much you enjoyed the dirty talk and it causes you to think vaguely of how your sex life with your husband always appeared so rushed. He was tired as he worked himself hard and at the end of it all, sex was more about him than you.

“You want that, huh?”

Yoongi wouldn’t say that he’s waited for this moment. He wasn’t aware a moment like this would ever present itself to him. However, he finds that he enjoys the closeness that you and him share. How open you and he are, even after not fully accustomed to the other prior to now.

Yoongi finds that he enjoys littering your naked skin with kisses and soft bites that don’t linger. When his hands wander around your skin, goosebump litter his own at how soft and warm it is.

“I do.” you quip when Yoongi pounds deeper into you, so deliciously that it causes your eyes to roll a bit. “Want you to cum in me.”

Yoongi groans with a shake of his head. Not because he doesn’t want to cum in you, he does. He has a deep desire to fuck his seed into you so deep until there’s nothing left, but that meant that it would all be over. His high (and yours) would die down and you would go home.

There wouldn’t be a next time as you weren’t his wife. And even if he talked down to his brother, at the end of the day, his brother was who you belonged to.

Something gold touches your face and causes you to flutter your eyes open. Yoongi hovers so close above you that his chain, a diamond chair that was once tucked underneath his shirt, slides across your warm face.

“K-Kiss me.” you say - more like demand - to Yoongi. Your shaky hands place themselves onto his cheeks so he’s looking right at you.

Yoongi connects his lips onto yours, his hips snapping forward. He groans against your soft lips, your velvet walls drawing him deeper and deeper into you.

“You’re so beautiful.” Yoongi grunts against your lips. “You take my cock so well.”

You press your lips deeper against his, arms wrapping around his neck. Your body intensifies, quivering right beneath the man. Your back arches a bit and you hold onto Yoongi a bit tighter.

“You’re…fuuuck,” your words drag out, stomach churning. “you’re beautiful, too.”

Yoongi, against his body’s best judgment, pushes you back against his bed. He leans back to admire your naked body, breast bouncing erratically as he fucks you. He licks his lips, dark eyes boring right into you. His right hand places onto your stomach, cock grinding.

“Yeah?” Yoongi tilts his head a bit. “Our baby would be beautiful, too, then.”

“You can’t say things like that.”

Your pussy clenches harder, however, despite your words.

“Your pussy says differently, baby.” Yoongi chuckles. “You like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking a baby into this sweet pussy.”

The hand that presses against your stomach to keep you in place trails down to your clit. His thumb places firmly against your wet clit, swirling the sensitive bud that has your back arching against. When you’re about to shut your legs - because fuck was the pleasure overwhelming - Yoongi’s free hand slaps against your thigh to keep you from doing so.

“You’re going to be so beautiful round with my baby.” Yoongi’s thumb twirls your clit roughly. The way you’re taking him now he knows you’re going to cum soon. “You think the baby would look like me?”

Yoongi grunts once more, thrust becoming sloppy. He was going to cum himself at just the thought of witnessing you swollen with his seed. Just the thought of you holding a baby with the same eyes as him was enough for him to want to breed you right here and now.

“It doesn’t matter who you’re married to, baby,” Yoongi says, marveling at the sight of your juices leaking onto his sheets as you were cumming. The filthy and demanding words mixed with the overstimulation he forces upon you was too much. “I’ll always be the one that got you pregnant.”

Your hand reaches out for Yoongi’s shirt for support. His words were too much and would be added to the list of fucked up things you were doing now - that you enjoy.

“I want your baby, Yoongi.” you cry, squirming beneath him. “Want your cum in me.”

“Fuck, baby.” Yoongi shakes his head, his entire body shuddering as he cums not even a minute later. Milky ropes of warm cum coat your walls fully.

Hanging his head back, Yoongi pants. He doesn’t move and neither do you. There’s sweat lining his forehead and he’s trying to calm himself down before he does anything more.

Your chest rises and falls when you feel Yoongi lay beside you. You feel his cum ooze out of you - but still feel so full of him. You shut your legs, the selfish part of you not wanting to waste not a drop of it.

“Are you okay?”

Yoongi’s hand is soft, even if it was a bit callosed, against your cheek. He gently turns your head to look at him.

“I’m sorry if I was a bit…much.” Yoongi’s cheeks reddened and he chuckled a bit.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” you murmur to him, moving a bit closer without much thought. “Thank you…?” you’re unsure what to say and thanking him sounds a bit foolish, however when Yoongi laughs, so do you.

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N.”

You bite your lip and once more, without much thought, you kiss him. You inhale into the kiss, your hand holding onto his cheek before you disconnect your lips from his.

Yoongi licks his lips as if to savor your taste. He hums. “You can stay the night…if you want.” Yoongi adds the last part. “Or you can go home…but I’m not forcing you to.”

You allow yourself to smile at Yoongi.

“I can show you my studio. You can see why the world doesn’t see me for months at a time.” Yoongi jokes. Did he sound desperate for you to stay with him? Was he that lonely and pathetic?

“Okay.” you say a bit too quickly. You hoped you didn’t sound desperate yourself.

“Okay.” Yoongi repeats, his thumb trailing the outline of your lips.

Yoongi’s fingers are going to bruise your skin with how tight he holds them. His hips are snapping once more, drilling into you at an alarming speed. From the outside looking in, the sight could be seen as alarming with how rough Yoongi is. Your skin is flushed with hand marks by the man, yet neither of you could be bothered to care right now.

Your back arches and your arms struggle to keep yourself in the position as yoongi pounds into you. You’re squealing with each powerful thrust his hips send your way.

You are unsure how many times you allowed Yoongi to fuck you - you lost count since the following night. You didn’t need to go home because there wouldn’t be anyone waiting for you anyways. Yoongi had done what he promised and showed you his studio. It’s dimly lit with several computer screens. He showed you how he mixed and produced different sounds together and played snippets of music that he had yet to release.

How you and Yoongi became entangled after that - and for the first time - is beyond you. In a short amount of time, the chemistry was there. Obviously.

Now, the following morning, you and Yoongi were yet again doing the forbidden act that should’ve never happened in the first place. Now, you and he were further disrespecting your marriage, but you cannot bring yourself to care now.

“Your cock is so deep in me.” you squeal, your face burying into the soft bed sheets.

Your fingers dig into them as Yoongi forces your legs apart further. Both of his hands allow you grace and slams against his bed. That meant that now Yoongi could go even deeper.

“I’ve fucked you all night, baby, and you keep coming for more.”

Your ass is amazing, Yoongi thinks, the way it bounces off of his abdomen. He cannot count himself how many times he held it in his hands as he fucked you, finding that it fits perfectly in his hands just like the rest of your body did.

“I can’t help it…feels so good.”

In the short amount of time you stopped the bashful act and fully allowed Yoongi’s dirty words to get to you. You entertained him fully, finding that it made the entire situation better.

“You’re such a whore, Y/N, allowing me to fuck a baby in you over and over again.”

As many times as Yoongi’s fucked you, he hasn’t kept his lips off of you for long. He had eaten you out right in his studio, his fingers plunging so deep in you that you made a mess all over his chair - and he’d have it no other way.

“It’s going to be sad when you go back to your husband, right? You’re gonna fuck my brother but think of me the entire time.”

Your hair is being yanked this time and you are forced against Yoongi’s chest. His cock plunges deeper in you so heavenly that you’re seeing stars. While one hand is entangled into your hair, the other one roughly tugs at your breast.

“And when he doesn’t fuck you good enough, baby, just come back to me.” Yoongi’s voice is so deep and full of lust that it shivers down your spine and juices erupt down your thighs and leak into his sheets.

You don’t intend to stay another day. Yoongi had allowed you to borrow clothing and you had showered in his master bathroom before meeting him for breakfast. The aroma greeted you upon entering and Yoongi spares you a single glance.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” you admit, seating yourself on the island chair and watching as he plates your food. “Smells nice…” you trail off.

You and Yoongi eat mainly in silence when you’re unsure if it’s a comfortable one or not. Your mind races with questions that you’re unsure how to ask.

“There’s no doubt that you’ll have a positive pregnancy test.”

Yoongi breaks the silence first once he finishes his food, drinking a dark liquid that you’re sure isn’t juice like you had.

You snicker a bit, body flushing. “Yeah. No doubt.”

Yoongi is quiet for another moment, his eyes roaming your facial expression.

“Do you regret it?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing away for a moment.

“It’s…I feel terrible.”

Yoongi inhales, his leg shaking a bit at your words.

“I…I feel terrible because I enjoyed it too much and…” you meet his eyes now. It was an eventful two days away from the reality that was your life. Yoongi was more than what his family made him out to be - even outside the sex. He was an amazing person to speak with. When you spoke, it’s as if he cared about what you had to say; no matter the topic. He gives you undivided attention that you never got from your husband. “...now I have to just forget it didn’t happen.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath. His heart jolted a bit at your confession.

“You know I’m never too far.” Yoongi murmurs. He feels foolish for stating it. It would be weird that you and he are suddenly so close that it would obviously draw attention.

“I know.” your voice is meek and small.

“I want to give you something.”

Yoongi doesn’t meet your eye when he lifts himself from the island table beside you and takes your plates and his. He washes them to further leave you in agonizing suspense.

Once Yoongi is done, he dries his hands and goes through his pockets. He’s wearing baggy sweatpants with deep pockets. He pulls out a rectangular pad and opens it, ripping a piece of paper out of it.

“Here.” Yoongi holds the paper out for you to take. You notice instantly that it’s a…check.

Your eyes scan the check, slowly widening at just how much money is on it.

“What is this?” you say hastily, squinting your eyes at Yoongi.

“A check.” Yoongi responds matter-of-factly. “For…the baby.” he nods his head a bit.

You drop the check onto the table and swallow. “I’m…not even sure if you got me pregnant.” you say, but then again it was no doubt Yoongi had. The amount of times he milked your walls in 2 days, there was no doubt that a month from now you would surely receive positive news. “I can’t accept that, Yoongi.” you shake your head.

“Why not?”

You scoff. “Why not? Why would I?” you quip. “I…I…the agreement wasn’t this.” you continue as you’re pointing at the check. “I…we didn’t really think any of this through.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Yoongi snickers but agrees nonetheless. “We acted out of lust and attraction. However…I want to help you.”

You’re silent as Yoongi continues on.

“I…it’s going to be hard, Y/N. Watching you raise a kid that’s mine but…I understand. You’re married to my brother and that’s not going to change. You came to me for help and I intend on doing just that. Deposit the check into a savings account. Over time it’ll accumulate interest and more money for the baby…”

Yoongi’s tone is serious. Your eyes glance down at the check.

“Yoongi…” you trail off.

Yoongi stands a bit straighter.

“Think about the baby, Y/N.” Yoongi murmurs. “You trusted me enough to come to me. Trust me enough to know that I’ll always help you if you need it.” he states. “I’ll be the best uncle there can be.”

Yoongi’s tone doesn’t match his words, and you aren’t sure if your own feelings would match the reality that you’re about to put yourself through.

@whipwhoops @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @babycandy111 @investedreader

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #family matters #bts smut #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #btswritingcafe #bangtanwritershq #btswriterscollective #trivia-yandere #explicit-tae #trivia-yandere valentine's day masterlist #suga smut #suga x reader #bts affair au

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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 months ago

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff, arm wrestling

Summary: Tony instigates an arm wrestling contest with Bucky, and no one can beat him until you step up to the plate. The thing is, he’s a superhuman and you’re just a regular person. Something isn’t adding up here.

Squares Filled: thor (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

Tony never fails to throw a legendary party. You’ve never been invited to one until you were drafted into the team. You’re not a superhuman, you don’t have powers, and you can easily be killed in a fight. However, you do have amazing hacking skills that have been useful for the team over the past year. You can remotely get into any account, jump over any firewall, and hack into any system with your equipment from your office.

You don’t even have to leave the compound to help.

To be surrounded by such powerful people is a bit overwhelming, but you try not to show how much it’s affecting you. Alcohol always calms you down so you immediately head to the bar. Sam laughs from the right of you, and you see he’s talking to Steve and Bucky over by the pool table. Ah, Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. The hottest man at the party. The hottest man in any room. To look more casual, Bucky sports a backward hat and a thin t-shirt that accentuates his muscles. No one here is scared of him so he’s not shy about hiding his metal arm.

You often fantasize about what his arm could really do to someone like you.

“You should go over and talk to him.” You jump at Natasha’s voice, and you look to see her and Wanda standing next to you. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not staring at him.”

“We never said you were,” Wanda smirks.

“You definitely were, though.”

“Oh, yeah, totally.”

“Okay, stop. I’m not crushing on Bucky.”

“It’s okay if you are. He’s hot.”

“Why don’t you talk to him if you think he’s so hot?” you grumble.

“Not my type,” Nat answers. “I’m already a deadly assassin. I don’t need another one in my life.”

“Why don’t I go over to him and tell him how much you love him?” Wanda suggests with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare, Maximoff.”

Both women laugh, and Natasha slaps a hand on your shoulder.

“Lighten up. Have another drink.” Natasha orders you another drink and you take it gratefully. “Seriously, though, you should go for it. You clearly don’t see the looks he gives you when you’re not paying attention. He’s whipped for you. You could ask him for anything and he’d give it to you.”

“I’m nothing compared to him. He’s a super soldier. I’m just a weak human. He’s not into me.”

Nat and Wanda look at each other, and both of them shrug. “You’ll get there eventually.”

With alcohol in your system, you’re more social with everyone but Bucky. You’d have to get seriously fucked up to talk to Bucky. He makes you so nervous and you don’t want to do anything to embarrass yourself.

By the time ten rolls around, most of the people have left the party so only the Avengers are left. This group is more chilled than the previous one because no one is trying to impress someone. Only the elite have been invited to the party, and they were starstruck in the eyes of the Avengers. Everyone here knows what everyone can do so it’s more laid back and chill.

“Be honest with me,” Tony says to Bucky. “How much can you bench with that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky chuckles. “I never tested it.”

“I bet I could take you.”

“Excuse me?”

“In an arm wrestling contest. Get your mind out of the gutter. I don’t run that way.”

Tony is drunk otherwise he wouldn’t be saying this, but Bucky finds amusement in it. Tony is persistent which is how you got here. Everyone wants a piece of Bucky’s metal arm to see if they can beat him. Knowing he can’t do it by himself, Tony grabs one of his Iron Man suit arms to give him that extra boost.

Tony fails, and Bucky doesn’t even look like he broke out in a sweat.

Rhodey tries and fails. Natasha and Clint know better than to take on a vibranium arm without powers. Bruce is scared he’ll turn into the Hulk if he strains himself too much. Wanda doesn’t compete because she’ll probably win with her magic, and she’s curious as to how this is going to end. Steve steps up to the plate and grabs Bucky’s metal hand confidently. The only person who thinks he might actually have a shot. Both men start the match, and Steve looks like he is going to win when Bucky gets a second wind and slams Steve’s hand on the desk.

The only person who can beat Bucky without any issue is Thor, but he’s on Asgard right now so he’s out of the running.

“Who’s next?” Bucky asks confidently.

“You’re so sure he’s whipped for me?” you whisper to Nat and Wanda. “There’s a way to tell if he is or not.”

“How?”

“He’ll let me win.” You step up to the table and take off your jacket. “I can do it.”

“You’re not doing it, Doll,” Bucky chuckles. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“What, are you chicken?” You look at everyone. “Hear that everyone? Bucky’s scared to go up against a girl.”

“Fine.” You turn to Bucky. “It’s your health. I won’t be the one who will end up with a broken arm.”

Bucky changes hands and grabs your hand with his flesh one.

“Why not your other hand?”

“I’m not using my metal arm on someone who doesn’t have any powers. It won’t be a fair fight.”

He has a point. You position yourself and look at Steve who taps the desk. You and Bucky immediately start to wrestle, and you’re using every bit of strength you have. Bucky has to admit, you’re strong for a woman of your stature but it’s not enough to beat him. However, the look of concentration and determination you have is too cute to diminish.

He pulls his strength back and lets you slam his hand to the desk.

You jump back and cheer for your victory, and he can’t help but smile. Everyone knows he let you win but you don’t care. You’re the only one who has been able to beat him whether or not it was a pity win. You join Nat and Wanda’s side with a huge smile on your face, and Steve and Sam approach Bucky with knowing looks on theirs.

“You let her win,” Steve says.

“You’re whipped, man,” Sam laughs.

“Yeah, I did, but look how happy she is.”

“You know he let you win, right?” Natasha whispers to you.

“Yeah, but that proves one thing. I have that man wrapped around my finger. He’s into me,” you beam.

“Finally, you see it,” Wanda laughs.

You look back at Bucky to see him already looking at you, and you smile right back.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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manmuncher777 · 2 months ago

Text

Gojo trying out something new with you…

18+ SMUTTTT

“T-Toru- oh my god” Satoru currently had you folded in half, like a fucking deck chair in the most brutal mating press of your life. Your sweaty palms trying to keep grip on the back of your knees as he had decided to be mean today and make you hold your own legs up, instead of doing that work for you. Your mouth hanging open with every sharp thrust of his, feeling his bulbous tip practically kiss your cervix.

You’s been like this for hours now, saturo deciding he wasn’t feeling as nice today. Edging you to the point of crying. Hot salty tears that streamed down you face, dragging little bits of mascara with them.

Gojo quite liked this look on you, no he loved it. It made him feel feral. glancing over your fucked out features; your glossy lips, covered in saliva and precum. Your eyes, shining brightly with the tears he had caused. But oh you looked so pretty when you tried to stop them from rolling back into your head. The makeup you had spent an hour on, now streaking down your face so beautifully like some sort of modern art painting. This was when you looked most beautiful to him.

“Hold those legs up for me pretty, I need a good view of my girl.”he breathed out, slight pauses in his sentence with each thrust he delivered. His balls slapping heavily against the skin of your ass, the sound echoing around the room so deliciously. Vulgar noises a that filled the air, turning you on even more.

You tried your best to listen to the glistening man above you, but fuck he was just making you feel so good. It was hard to concentrate on controlling your hands when all you could think about was how he was slipping in and out of your welcoming walls. The way his abs glistened and tensed with each thrust, the huge biceps wither side of your head. You were certain you could cum just from looking at him.

You looked down to where you both met, watching as a ring of white formed around the base of his thick cock. That made you falter for a second.

A mistake

Your hands slipped, releasing you legs. You didnt have the power to raise them again to fix your mistake; all your muscles weak due to the excercise satoru was putting you through right now.

“Oh no, just when you were being so good for me sweetheart” he fake pouts at you, cooing teasingly in your ear. “Go on, pick them up.” he ordered, but you couldnt do anything but whimper pathetically underneath him, his words going in one ear and out the other.Another mistake.

You were soon snapped out of your little daydream to a slap on the side of your face, more of a tap really, but it was hard enough to bring a little gasp from you.

“Pick them up baby, now.” he glared at you, his eyes more demanding now. His eyes threatening you, daring you to ignore him again.

“Satoru..” you whined at him, sulking like a baby, but you didnt dare leave your legs. With all your might you raised them again, hooking your hand underneath and bringing your ankles as far up to your ears as you could possibly manage. This wasn’t fair, he was fucking the shit out of you and still expected you to do the heavy lifting.

“Oh well that got you to listen didn’t it?” he teased again, cocky smirk on his face. “Does my sweet girl - fuck - do you like being slapped around sweetheart?” He quizzed you. Very interested in your response. He knew you were kinky, but this was something new.

You were trying so hard to listen, but the way he was stretching you over him right now, merciless pounds of his cock against you walls. You could hardly think. All you could think about was how well he was moulding you to him, you could feel every single vein on his cock as he fucked you. Every single grove and curve that had your back arching off the bed, craving more

Another slap, a little harder this time. The gentle tingling across your features brought your doe eyes to his menacing ones. The look he was giving you, an air of authority clung to it. He really knew how to get you worked up. “I asked you a question sweets?”

He already knew the answer, he just wanted you all pathetic for him. He chuckled as he watched you try to form an answer

He wasn’t giving you an easy time. You cried out under him weakly, trying to form works as one of his hands travelled down between you, rubbing fast circles on your bundle of nerves. “Yes- oh- yes toru. I love it! oh god- yes” You couldnt help but clench around him, his dominance, his face. It was driving you crazy.

For a split second you saw a glint of something in his eyes, soemthing devilish. Before they quickly roll back at the feeling of you tightening around him “Shit baby, yeah you do.”

God you were practically milking him, the way your warm walls sucked him back in each time he pulled back. the slick that was covering his lower torso, shit you did like it rough.

He watched intently as you eyes screwed shut from pleasure, with the way you were writhing beneath him, trying to run from hos grasp he could tell you were close.

Another slap, harder. The tingling feeling back again, something so sensual and delicious with the light sting.

“nuh uh sweets, don’t try and run from it. Just take it like a good girl.” fuck his words were driving you crazy. Your tried to listen to him, but with all the edging from earlier that evening, it made it so much more difficult.

A few more strokes of his thick cock and you were about to cum, not before another slap. Shit this hot, the way he was throwing you about, roughing you up.

You could help but let out a scream as you came, the feeling overwhelming you as you creamed all over Gojos cock, a sticky white ring forming around his base. You came from a slap, shit. But lord it hurt so good.

“oh there she is, good girl, let go for me baby.” he whimpered out. Whimpered

You were squeezing him so deliciously, he could feel how wet you are. Not able to stop himself from watching himself enter you over and ver again as you squirmed from overstimulation.

He shuddered as he came, legs tightening, hips stuttering. His voice let out a chesty groan as he shot white ropes of thick cum inside you.

This was certainly something satoru was going to use against you.

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #satoru smut #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #saturo gojo x reader #saturo smut

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earthchica · 3 months ago

Text

the sweetest taboo

cowboy! terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you and Terry don't get along, but you have to run a whole farm together. Terry is tired of your behavior and shows you who's boss.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), slight brat, teasing banter, arguing, foul language, choking, size kink, daddy kink, rough spanking, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, squirting, creampie, aftercare, nicknames (baby, baby girl, lil mama, sweetheart) words (5k)

note: this has been in drafts for a while, and I decided to post it, I hope you enjoyed it. let me know what you think?

For five months, you have been managing the 9 acres of farmland in Louisiana that your nana left you. Your dedication to preserving the family business meant collaborating with the Richmond family, who share ownership of half the land.

Troy and Yvette Richmond were close friends of your nana and had worked alongside her for ten years. You had no issues with Mr. and Mrs. Richmond; they were kind and welcoming people. However, their son, Terry Richmond, was another story.

Terry had a skill for getting under your skin and was quite infuriating. You settled down on the weathered porch, the sun starting to dip low in the Louisiana sky, casting a warm glow over everything.

A gentle breeze stirred the grass, and the homemade lemonade's sweet, tangy taste was an incredible relief after a long day of working the land.

You leaned back in your chair, stealing a moment of quiet with your friend, Jenna, who was sipping her own glass and watching the fields.

“Jen, I swear, I just can’t stand Terry,” you started, rolling your eyes as you took a long sip of lemonade. “It’s like he thinks he runs the whole damn farm.”

Jenna chuckled, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You mean you don’t like how he makes you feel? ‘Cause let’s be real, he’s fine as hell.”

“Fine?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively, though you couldn’t ignore the slight flutter in your stomach. “That man might be easy on the eyes, but that doesn't mean I gotta put up with his nonsense.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Jenna smirked, taking another sip. “We both know you kinda like it when he gets under that skin of yours. Just admit it, you like him!”

Before you could respond, you spotted Terry riding up on his horse, the sun glinting off his cowboy hat. He was wearing a tank top that highlighted his big, muscular arms, wear-out jeans, and boots.

Terry swung off the saddle, hooked his horse, and marched up the stairs with a self-assured grin. “Hey there, you two. Y’all need to get back to work,” he called out.

His tone is too bossy for your liking. “Oh, look who it is,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. Jenna quickly drained her glass and shot you a look as if to say, “Good luck with that.”

“Where you think you goin’, Jenna?” you called out, but she was already making her way inside, leaving you to face Terry alone. You shook your head, standing up to meet his gaze.

“Excuse you, Terry? I don’t need any directions from you.” You said with a slight smile, and Terry crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as if he had found your annoyance amusing.

“Somebody’s gotta keep things in line, and it sure ain’t gonna be you. You think this farm runs itself?.” Terry asked with a chuckle. You stepped closer, refusing to back down.

“You think you cause just own half the land? Can you tell me what to do? Newsflash, Terry, we’re equal partners here. Don’t you forget that?”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Equal, huh? Are you sure about that? ‘Cause every time I turn around, it seems like you’re floundering—”

“Oh, Terry, don’t you dare! Do you think you’re the only one who knows hard work? I put in just as many hours as you do.” You said, poking his chest as the tension hung heavy between you two,

Neither of you was willing to let it go. Beneath the surface, something else simmered. The way he stood tall and unyielding created a heat that wasn’t just from frustration.

“You right, I'll give you that,” Terry said finally, his voice lowering as he stepped closer, his stomach almost touching your breasts. “But it’d be easier if you learned to be a little nicer.”

“Nicer? What?..to you?” You shot back, barely holding back a chuckle. “Oh, sugar no..” With the sun setting behind him, the glow made him look almost ethereal, but you pushed that thought aside.

A cocky grin spread across his face. “Okay, if you won’t be nicer, I’ll just have to make you.” You stared defiantly up at Terry, feeling the tension thicken between you.

“I’m not scared of you, Terry. You can’t make me do nothin’,” you shot back, your voice steady. Terry chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“Do you really think imma about to let you talk to me any kinda way? You got it twisted, girl.” Terry said, and you held your ground, refusing to look away.

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting some handsome cowboy who thinks he knows everything intimidate me.” You said that without thinking and felt embarrassed.

"Oh....you think I'm handsome, huh?" Terry asked, towering over you like a giant, and for a moment, the whole world faded out, leaving just the two of you standing there.

Your heart began to race at the proximity, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he would close that distance in a way you hadn’t expected. Was he gonna kiss you?

You fought the urge to let anticipation twirl around your stomach, but just as quickly as he leaned in, he pulled back with a smirk as a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I guess I'll get back to you on that one!" Terry turned on his heel and walked inside the house, leaving you breathless and baffled on the porch.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, watching him disappear inside. You needed to distance yourself. “Ugh!” you groaned, shaking your head to clear your mind.

You hopped off the porch and went to the stables to check on the horses. The familiar scent of hay does little to ground you. Once there, you grabbed a brush and approached your horse, Luna.

Luna nickered softly at your arrival. “Hey girl, it’s just us now,” you murmured, burying your frustrations in the rhythm of brushing her sleek black coat.

Each stroke helped to distract you from the memory of Terry’s smirk and those tense moments shared just moments ago. “Can you believe him? So infuriatin’,” you muttered.

Luna nudged you with her nose as if to soothe your frustrations. “Terry thinks he can just walk around here, looking fine as hell, and boss you around. Not gonna happen.”

Your mind wondered why you didn't get along with him. He was hardworking, helpful, sweet, and sexy as hell and his presence, the way he carried himself.

Perhaps it's the constant teasing and making fun of how you run things, but you knew it was never in a mean way, though you always had to take it there.

The soft whinny from your horse snapped you back, and you focused on brushing, willing your heart to stop racing every time you replayed that moment.

After a while, with the last of Luna’s coat shining, you leaned against her, closing your eyes and letting the calm wash over you. “I just need to get my head straight,” you whispered.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the farm, you and Terry joined the other workers in wrapping up the day’s chores.

The golden light danced over everything, giving the fields a warm glow as the crickets began their nightly serenade. “Y’all done with them fence posts?” you shouted across the yard, wiping the sweat from your brow.

Terry leaned against a post, arms crossed and that familiar smirk on his face. “Yeah, we finished that up already,” Terry replied, his voice smooth like the whiskey you knew he favored.

After all the hard work, everyone slowly filtered out, heading home as the stars twinkled. You mused on it while cleaning up, the warm evening air settling around you.

That night, you found yourself curled in your cozy bedroom, buried beneath a blanket and lost in the pages of an erotic romance novel, the kind that swept you away from the mundane.

Your heart fluttered as you imagined yourself in the book—passionate, adventurous, and right there alongside a beautiful black man, a cowboy with light, greyish eyes and a hint of green that reminded you far too much of Terry.

“Girl, what is wrong with you?” you muttered, excitement and embarrassment fluttering in your stomach. “Eww.” You slammed the book shut, tossing it aside as if it could distance you from those heated thoughts.

The fantasy of you and Terry—fantastic, intense, yet somehow fitting—felt all too real. Deciding to clear your head, you hopped off the bed and went downstairs.

As you rounded the corner, the comforting sound of music wafted through the air. It drew you closer to the living room, where you found Terry lounging in the dim light, a glass of whiskey in one hand while he tapped his fingers to the beat.

"What are you doin' down here?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe. Your tone was a mix of attitude and curiosity. Terry looked up, his attention shifting to you with a slight smirk.

"Just chillin' and having a drink; wanna join?" He asked, raising the whiskey bottle high, the amber liquid glistening in the dim light. "Nah, I'm good," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Okay, cool! can you leave then? You really mess up the vibe with that bad attitude of yours," Terry said with a sigh, motioning you to leave with his hand, and you gasped, irritated.

“Terry, you need to stop tellin' me what to do. This is my house too, alright? My name on the deed just like yours.” You said firmly while stepping into the living room.

Terry lifted an eyebrow, his expression shifting into something sharper. He stood up, the sound of his boots scraping against the floor and cutting through the air.

“I see how it is. You really tryna push my buttons, huh? I ain't the one to mess with. Do you need me to check that attitude? ‘Cause I could go there if you wanted.”

His words hung between you two, heavy and tense. “You act like you know me so well, Terry. Maybe you need to get checked for thinkin’ you can just walk all over me like I'm some joke.” You said.

“You know I’m just playin’ with you. It’s all in good fun; I ain't tryin' to hurt your feelings. You love the back and forth, though, don’t you? It gets you all riled up. You wanted to see how far you could push me, right?” He said softly, moving closer to you.

Your breath caught, realizing he was onto something. Deep down, you did like it, testing the limits. “Oh please,” you replied, flipping your hair dramatically to the side of your shoulder.

In a swift motion, he closed the distance between you two. A gleam in his eye made the air around you feel electric, and before you could take another breath, he backed you against the wall.

“Are you sure about that?” Terry asked, his voice low, laced with a desire that left your heart racing. You met his stare, trying to retain your bravado.

“I—” you started, but how he looked down at you made your thoughts scatter. Those words hung in the air, your bravado dripping away beneath that smirk.

“You ain’t slick. You know you like me bein’ around, even if you won’t admit it.” That grin of his only made you want to smack him, but deep down, you knew the truth.

Something magnetic drew you to him, the tension crackling like static. You swallowed hard and crossed your arms in a futile attempt to shield yourself from his intensity.

“You all talk, sweetheart, but no action,” Terry said, pressing his body against you and that strong, overwhelming presence invading your space.

You didn’t know whether to scream or giggle; all you could think about was how close he was and how his presence made you feel—like you were on the brink of something wild and unpredictable.

It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. Finally, unable to hold onto your facade any longer, you gave him a playful shove, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“Get outta my face, Terry!” You shot back, and Terry stepped back, chuckling, but you could see that glimmer in his eyes—darkened before you knew it.

Terry yanked you from the wall and moved you over to the couch, bending you over the arm. You turned your head, heart pounding, trying to hide the smirk creeping up your face.

"What ya about to do, tough guy."

“Teach you a lesson,” Terry said, and before you come up with come back, you bit your lip to suppress a moan at the touch of his hands on your body.

Terry pushed your nightgown up and gave you a smack, causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure. You glance back at him; his eyes convey a serious intent, and you receive another sharp smack.

"Not as tough as I thought, huh? You ready to give up?" Terry asked; his voice was deep and sensual, giving another smack.

“Fuck you...no one...no one's giving up!” You cried, digging your nails into the cushion of the couch as you tried to suppress a moan from coming from your mouth.

“Tsk, Tsk, tsk, wrong answer. Okay, you leave me no choice," Terry said, grabbing your hair and pushing your face into the bottom cushion of the couch.

Terry moved your panties to the side and began playing with your pussy lips, running his fingers through the pool of your wetness. “Mmm...look at that pretty pussy! It's all wet for me."

“Terry, please!” You pleaded, gradually surrendering and allowing your body to express what you couldn't say.

"Please, what?" He asked, pulling your head by your hair and looking into your eyes with a mixture of amusement, lust, and pleasure.

“Please, just a little more,” You moaned urgently, desperation creeping into your voice. Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Did you learn your lesson? You gonna stop talking at me like you crazy?” Terry asked, his tone teasing yet profound as if he were putting you on trial.

You hesitated, my pride battling with my desire. The truth was, you craved that tension, that thrill. you swallowed hard, resisting the urge to give in so easily.

But as you looked into his eyes, that smirk igniting a fire within you, you felt your resolve crumbling. “Yes, yes.” The words spilled out before you could hold them back. “Please, Terry.”

His smirk widened, a glimmer of satisfaction flashing across his features. He leaned closer, and you could feel the heat radiating between us.

“You’re really begging now, aren’t you?” he teased, enjoying the power he wielded in this moment.

“Yes, I am; I need it; I need you, please; I'm so sorry for being so mean to you; just please, I need more.” You begged, your voice loud beyond a whisper, laced with defiance and desperation.

Terry lets go of your braids and moves you to be spread wide on the couch before him. “Alright, then,” he said, a sense of authority in his tone. “I’ll give you what you’re asking for."

Terry rubbed his fingers through your soaked panties, making you moan with pleasure. "Please, Terry, stop teasing me." You cried, getting tears of frustration in your eyes.

"It's daddy for now, lil mama! You got that?" Terry ordered, smacking your pussy, and you looked into his eyes; the look was giving you all types of feels.

"Okay, well, daddy! Can you please eat my fucking pussy," You moaned, which made Terry chuckle and rip your panties off with a force like no other.

"I’m going to make you feel so good," Terry growls before plunging his tongue between your wet folds, going slowly and flicking his tongue through your folds.

"How does that feel, baby," Terry asked, and you couldn't believe he was doing wonders on you. "Fuck, Daddy, so good. Your tongue feels amazing"

"That's what I like to hear, And you taste so damn sweet. I could eat you for every meal" Terry said, and you moaned in response, grabbing the back of his head as he sought out your most sensitive spots.

You cried at how incredible his tongue was. Terry's plump lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

You removed your nightdress and tossed it across the room, began playing with one of your breasts with your right hand while the other was till the back of Terry's head.

"Ahhh, fuck, fuck oh my god," You cried, rolling your head back in pleasure, and Terry muffled in your pussy as he began fingering you and sucking at your folds.

"Fuck, mmmm baby, I love the way your pussy tastes so much," Terry said; your juices were all over his face and his beard. His eyes met yours, and he fingered you like trying to prove a point.

It was working so well on you, surprising because of the way his tongue flicked hungrily over your clit, the way his mouth just worked so hard you knew he was trying to make you squirt.

"Show me how much you love my pussy, daddy! Tell me who owns this fucking pussy" You moaned, challenged in your tone, and Terry smirked, diving his tongue back into your pussy and bringing your legs over his shoulder.

You chuckled before making an O in your mouth, feeling your body trembling slightly, arching your back against the back of the couch. A knot in your stomach began to grow.

"Shit, daddy. Oh my goodness, I see, I get it"

"Nah...I don't think you do."

"Oh, I do, I do, please. I'm shaking already; I can't take it." You cried, and Terry didn't care; he focused all of his attention on licking your swollen, sensitive clit.

You could feel your body tense, clutched onto Terry's head as you felt your orgasm rise. 'Can I cum, Daddy. I'm so close; I'll be a good girl for now, please."

"You promise to be a good girl from now on, not more talk back, and you gonna listen to me, right?" He asked, staring into you like a lion hunting his prey.

"Yes, yes, yes, please," You cried shaking your head with new tears coming from your face. Terry chuckled and began to flickering your clit with his fingers fast and with firm pressure;

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 'Cum, cum for me, baby. Let me hear you, let me hear those pretty sounds."

"Oh my gosh, I'm gonna fucking-" You cried, feeling yourself cum hard while a gushing of water came out of your pussy. "Mmm, baby, you look so beautiful when you cum," Terry said with a smirk.

Your chest rose up and down as you calmed down from your trembling while Terry stood up and wiped your juices that were all over his face.

Terry removed his shirt and pushed his shorts and underwear down to his feet with his boots. You gasped at the sight of his dick; it was huge, veiny and lengthy.

"Shit, that's huge. You have the most perfect dick I have ever seen, Terry." You bite your lip and go to stroking it, but Terry manhandles you to get on your knees on the floor and face towards the couch.

Terry grabs your neck and kisses you passionately, leaving you speechless before pulling away. You moaned when he gave your ass smack, and you leaned back, jiggling your ass for him.

"I want your dick so bad, big daddy. Please fuck me," You moaned, and. "How bad you want it?" Terry smirked, giving you another smack on the ass.

"So bad, I’m desperate to feel your dick throbbing inside me," You cried, titled your head to look at him, and Terry grasped your ass and thrust his dick through your wet folds, not daring to enter.

"Don't know, I need a little more, lil mama," Terry said, arching your back slightly and spreading your legs out a little more. "Please fuck me, I've been wanting you to for so long, please"

Terry slowly enters your wet pussy, which makes both of you moan at the same time. He cursed, loving how your walls gripped him like a glove. "Do you like that, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, you feel so good inside me. Fuck, I love your dick already; it fits so perfectly," You moaned, looking back at him with desire.

Terry looked so fucking sensual in the light dim on him. "Mmm, baby girl you feel so fucking amazing. I could be so deep inside pussy forever."

You lean back and place your hand on his hip as he thrusts faster than before. "Pound my little pussy with your big dick, daddy," You moaned, looking up at him.

Terry immediately started pounding, moving his hand from your hip to grip your neck. "Fuck, fuck...Oh...I love hearing the sound of our skin slapping against each other."

"Push your ass back towards me, baby. I want to feel all of you," Terry said, smacking your ass, and you bit your lip, placing your hands on the edge of the couch and pushing it back against him.

"Like this, Daddy?" You asked with a moan, trying to match the rhymes of his rough, pounding thrusts. "Yes, baby, just like that, fuck. Take this dick so well," He moaned, His eyebrow furrowed.

Terry gripping the hand full of your ass before giving it a smack. You knew by the end of this that your ass was gonna probably slightly bruised, but you didn't care, so caught up with desire.

"Ahh, yes, don't stop, Daddy, fuck me," You moaned, feeling so much cream coming from your pussy, and Terry pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you.

He kissed you while still pounding into you. "I don't think I can stop until I can cum, Fuck, why is your pussy so perfect, girl," Terry moaned, burying his face in your neck while grabbing your breasts.

"I’ll only cum when you tell me to, Daddy. I wanna feel your cum, I want to be filled with your cum, please; I'm on the pill, so worries," You moaned, reaching between your legs and rubbing your clit.

"Fuck, baby, I want you to cum with me. Can you do that for me? Be a good girl and cum with your daddy," Terry said, grabbing your neck, and in minutes, both of them moaned and climaxed together.

Terry pulled you into a kiss as his hot cum came shooting out inside of you, causing you to moan into the kiss. He pulls out of your pussy, watching his cum drip out with a smirk.

Terry lost his balance and fell onto the soft carpet, trying to catch his breath. You giggled and propped yourself up on the couch. "That was...something!" you said, looking at Terry as his chest rose and fell.

"I can't believe we just did." You said softly, shocked your own damn self. When his eyes met yours, his face brightened with a smile.

"You're welcome, "Terry laughed, and you rolled your eyes, getting up from the couch to leave the living room.

Terry's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Hey, where you think you goin'?" He looked at you with a playful smirk, making your heart race faster.

"I'm just gonna shower, you know, clean up," you replied with a shy smile, trying to play it cool, but something in his gaze made you flutter.

"Okay! Mind if I join, sweetheart," Terry suggested, his tone light but the invitation lingering in the air. You thought for a moment, then nodded with a grin. "Sure, come on!"

"What? Really Damn, I think fucked you too good, got you acting like a whole different person," Terry joked, and you playfully hit him as you both went to the bathroom.

Once in the shower, the warm water cascaded down, and the playful banter began. "You better not hog all the hot water," Terry teased, splashing some soap suds your way.

"Terry, I'm not," you shot back, a playful smile on your lips. The laughter between you two quickly turned into something more intense.

The steam enveloped you as he kissed you, and you found yourselves fucking again, losing track of time. After the shower, you felt a wave of relaxation wash over you.

Terry pulled you close, his hands gentle on your skin as he started the aftercare routine, concern etched on his face. "You good? You feeling okay?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yeah, I’m cool. Thanks, Terry,” you replied, your heart fluttering at his tenderness. Terry then gestured towards his bedroom, his eyes brightening. “Wanna come cuddle for a bit?”

You paused, your stomach doing flips. "Uh, sure. just give me a minute to get dressed," You said, and he nodded. You made your way to your bedroom to throw on something comfortable.

You felt all kinds of butterflies as you changed. Once dressed, you headed to Terry's bedroom, pushing the door open slowly. He was waiting there, a soft smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.

“Took you long enough,” Terry joked, but his warmth made you feel at home. You climbed onto his bed, his familiar scent surrounding you—cologne mixed with something uniquely Terry.

Nestling into his arms felt like slipping into a soft cloud, safe and secure. "This is nice," you murmured, melting against him. “Yeah...you know,” Terry suddenly started.

“I really, really like you.” His honesty caught you off guard, making your heart race again. “You like me? For real?” you blurted out, surprise shifting into clarity.

It was time to lay it all out there. “I…I like you too Terry. A lot, actually.” A mischievous smile crept onto his face. “I know, baby girl. So, how ‘bout we go out on a date?”

“Yes. I’d love that,” you replied, feeling a wave of exhilaration wash over you. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full-on fireworks show.

This was it—everything was changing, and all you could think was that you had never felt so alive. With that, you settled into each other’s arms, ready for whatever came next.

Over the next few months, you and Terry kept your relationship under wraps, enjoying the sweet thrill of being together without drawing too much attention.

The other folks at the farm could sense a change, though. Your laughter was brighter, your smiles broader, and Terry—oh, he was positively glowing.

The two of you knew how to flirt and play around casually and efficiently despite the deeper feelings simmering beneath the surface.

One sunny afternoon, you decided to escape the hustle of the farm for a picnic. You picked a spot amongst the wildflowers, vibrant and full of life, just like you both felt.

The sun kissed your dark-brown skin as you lay back on the blanket, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Terry, ever the teaser, leaned in closer.

“You know, it's crazy, just not a few months ago. You hated my guts, and now you let me be in your guts,” Terry said, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“I didn't hate you, Terry, and stop playing with me,” you replied, laughing as you playfully swatted his arm. "Just making a jokey, jokey. You know you always look so gorgeous in sunlight," He said, cupping your cheek.

"I do?" You asked, smiling happily at him. “Yeah, you got that glow, like the sun loves to see your shine bright; I can’t get enough of it,” Terry said, leaning closer, his voice dropping softer.

With a spark in his eyes, he leaned in before you even realized what he was about to say. "I love you, baby!" Your eyes lit up, and you said, "I love you too, Terry." He smiled as both of your lips met.

It was a sweet moment that you wanted to freeze in time. As you both pulled away, laughing, you heard the distant sound of hooves approaching.

“Oh shit, we might be busted,” Terry whispered, a hint of panic in his voice, but you felt a rush of thrill at the possibility of being caught. It was Jenna and Mike, riding in casually on their horses.

Their expressions shifted from surprise to playful disbelief when they spotted you two. “Whoa, what’s goin’ on here?” Jenna called, a teasing grin stretching across her face as she and Mike dismounted.

“Looks like y’all been busy!” Mike said, giving his cousin, Terry, a look. “Uh… we can explain?” Terry stammered, hoping to smooth things over before it got out of hand.

Mike laughed, crossing his arms. “Explain what, cuz? This ain’t exactly rocket science. Look at you two; it’s obvious!” You exchanged a glance with Terry, suppressing a laugh.

“Okay, fine! We’re together,” you finally admitted, trying to sound nonchalant. “The best news I’ve heard all week!” Jenna chimed in, her excitement bubbling over.

“Hate to interrupt the lovey-dovey moment, but we need some help back at the farm,” Mike said, shifting gears as he glanced at the scattered picnic items.

“Things are a bit chaotic, and we could use an extra set of hands. You two can sit here and kiss some other time.” Jenna added with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we’ll help! Just give us a second to pack up,” you said, rolling up the picnic blanket, and Terry helped you pack up before throwing his arm around your shoulders.

He pulled you close as you walked back toward the horses. “Guess we can save this date for later then,” Terry said softly, fighting back a grin.

“Yeah, duty calls," You started. "But don’t worry big daddy; there’ll be plenty of time for us to make it up if you know what I mean," you whispered, nudging him as his eyes slightly darkened.

As you reached the horses, with smiles on your faces, the four of you rode back to the farm, the air buzzing with determination. You were in love, and nothing felt better like this.

#terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond #terry richmond x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black fem reader #terry richmond x fem reader #terry richmond fluff

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 10 months ago

Text

[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader

Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.

Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending

“Are you married?”

He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.

“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.

He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.

The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.

It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?

He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.

No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.

He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.

I’m sorry.

The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.

Please stay.

The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.

Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.

He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.

Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.

His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.

Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.

I miss you so much.

but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.

That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.

You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.

He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.

The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.

You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.

“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.

“Hey.” He mumbles.

The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.

Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...

He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.

“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.

because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.

It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.

“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”

“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”

“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”

“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”

“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”

“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”

“Anything else you want to say?”

“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”

“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”

He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.

Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.

“My pleasure.”

a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

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acid-ixx · 3 months ago

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Ohhhhhhhmisggashoosghhh

I love everything about "before the bell rings"

Such masterpiece such peakness oh my goodkdasssdffrddf. Couldnt stop thinking abt it couldnt stop rereading it its ltrly currently 3:11 am rn i wasnt aware of the time all i know was that i was obsessively drawing this man with your story in my mind my god i couldnt stop giggling and blushing n i had to take few breaks n paces in my room to cool off

HOPE U ARENT TOO WEIRDED OUT

— related post ! (tw: a bit nsfw, non-con kissing)

OHMYGOD. OHMYGOD!!! user luffyadolover you are the gift that keeps on giving because WHAT THE HELL??? more than five sketches of this feral, horny man and HE'S SO HANDSOME ILYSM FOR THIS!!! i'm actually so down bad i had to stare at the last image for a few minutes because YOU DREW THE ENTIRE SCENE SO WELL.

i love the first image, you drew him so well, the slick-back hair and everything!?!? with him looking all so proud of himself when he chooses something for his spouse that they actually really like, as if he didn't just planned to ignore you or to simply hastily choose whichever looks the fanciest; that was the plan until his brain haywires just witnessing the absolute joy on your face every time he picks something right; imprinting the memory of your smile in his brain to the point he sees it every time he blinks— so now it's become his daily mission after falling for you to traverse each and every shopping site and malls in his batcave to ensure you only get the highest quality of gifts. mind you, he is a very dedicated man, bruce wayne doesn't give up so easily.

AND THE SECOND AND THIRD IMAGES TOO !!! with his mask on, you couldn't really tell just how obsessed he is, due to the blunt face he always has to wear, but the comparison of him without; with the stare that speaks of a million promises all dedicated to honoring and cherishing his beloved spouse. he doesn't need wedding vows when his eyes (always almost unexpressive, unable to fully show the full range of his emotions; vulnerable in the midst of worshipping his sleeping, little deity) already presents what your future life would like with him.

it doesn't matter if you're drooling, or butt-fuck naked. if i say he's remembering every small, incoherent detail about how you sleep, what position you sleep in, even the position you bury your head in the pillow, let that devotion cement in the very crevices of his mind and in every corner of his heart. it wouldn't matter anyways that you're sleeping alone, hugging a pillow (that should've been him) now, because soon, you'd be quickly migrated in his bed, in his arms, and you won't be getting out. he'd be too invested in the smell of your hair, the feel of the pudge in your stomach, and the seams of your clothing rubbing against his thighs to even allow you to let go.

AND GOD, THE SKETCH WHERE HE'S JUST LICKING THE SPIT AND ALL?!? my brain is malfunctioning, i'm going insane. this is my favorite fanart of yours so far, i'm so grateful for your existence because you've graced me 😭 i'm absolutely not going to deny the future accusations of me writing for debauched and absolutely feral and/or horny bruce wayne!!! trust me when i'm telling you that he's not only memorizing exterior parts of you, but bruce promises (it's actually just him justifying his actions) himself that he has to remember what the inside of your mouth feels like to fully and properly kiss you before your wedding date arrives, just to establish how much of an absolutely perfect husband he will be for you.

to make up for all his past mistakes of absolutely ignoring you, to ensure you that it's not you who's the problem— it's him and he has to fix it all. he has to guarantee that you won't even dare look at another man; even if it means watching you every night disguised as the bat, then coming home to the manor (your shared home, soon) by the time the sun breaks out of its sleepy stupor, just to dream about what it'd feel like pinning you willingly and taking you all for himself after your honeymoon— how could a man like him stop dreaming about his beloved spouse? how could he control his hands to stop lingering beneath his utility belt just to touch and pleasure his body the same way he wishes to worship yours?

the answer is: you don't. or rather, you couldn't.

so if you ever feel your lips becoming more and more sore every other night, and notice the trinkets from your desk and even undergarments from your closet now missing... well, you'll soon know who the culprit is...

a/n: no, i do not tolerate this behavior irl. once again, pls be aware guys that this is a yandere blog (and i've been writing content like this for years) and i'm bound to write more extreme concepts compared to this. the only element that never disappears from this is that i'm writing under the sub-"category" of soft yandere. that doesn't mean it doesn't stray away from the eventual dub-con/non-con.

once again, thank u so much for the dedication to send me so many good fanarts @luffyadolover 😭🥹, although i may not always reply quickly, i appreciate you and all the other fanartists who spend their time drawing inspired by my content. it's truly an honor, and in all my years of writing, you guys are one of the reason why i still continue to write <333

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months ago

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What about princess reader who falls for Konig? He's a retired royal soldier (Bit of an age gap but I was thinking more like he was so good he was able to retire early) that she saw every once and a while and she does the typical "disguise myself as a commoner so i can sneak into town" routine and he pretends he doesn't know but he used to serve her family so ofc he fucking recognizes her

He tries to be gentle with her but honestly she should just be happy he isn't ratting her out to her family 🙄🙄🙄 (not that she minds)

CW: 18+ MDNI. Medieval AU, forbidden love, mutual pining, virgin!princess!reader x veteran!knight!König. Undefined age gap (reader is of legal age which means she’s "old" for an unmarried woman of this period). Reader is kinda coercive, König is implied to be a virgin too. Bittersweet romance vibes, brooding guy/gentle girl trope, ambiguous ending.

Word count: 6.4 k

You never thought you’d have the guts to slap a knight.

Violence is unladylike, and even if you’re a princess, it doesn’t mean you should force your status down someone’s throat like that. Far less his, the man you were taught to respect and listen to because he’s a man, and older than you.

The fact that he was also an anointed knight didn’t seem as important as the simple truth that he possessed a cock between his legs, and it always annoyed you to no end that this was the reason why men ruled the world. As a lady still unwed, you’re supposed to be afraid of cocks, especially if they’re old and gruff.

But you never were afraid in the presence of your father’s most loyal knight. He was your sworn shield too, and the only time he had been away from your side was when he asked to go on a pilgrimage to some chapel nearby. Said he wanted to seek forgiveness for his sins.

A man like him must have a lot to pray forgiveness for, but knowing that he could split a man in half with that greatsword of his doesn’t stop you from sneaking out one night as you follow him outside the castle walls and into the local inn.

Dressed as a stable boy, you watch with wide eyes how he gulps down three pints of beer and doesn’t turn any dumber from it. His speech never slurs, his shoulders never slump, but when some kitchen wench sits down beside him, your breath gets caught in your throat.

You look at the odd couple for a moment or two, watch how your father’s knight, the secret object of your silly daydreams, finally loosens the strings of his purse and offers the girl a copper coin.

It’s more than you can take, so you shoot up from your bench and march to him. The woman looks up at you with lousy disinterest as you ask the man of your dreams if he’d like to have another pint of ale. Your knight recognizes you immediately, even in your too-big tunic and your uncomely hose, even with that dirty felt hat covering your hair.

And he’s mortified, from what you can tell.

Both your eyes are wide now, and the woman beside him is smart enough to leave. She slides herself off the bench and sneaks past your side, and your valiant knight just looks at you, looks at you, looks at you.

You should be worried that he’ll snitch about your adventures to your father, but right now, all you can do is stare at him like he’s the thief, caught fresh and red-handed. Because he is a thief, and a devil, the worst man on earth when he was supposed to be the best. You snort to let him know how much you despise him—for coming here and bedding women for money when he’s supposed to be a sworn, celibate knight—but what truly hurts here is that he’s bedding someone else than you.

When you march out of the inn, he follows you, even dares to lay his hand on you by grabbing your arm outside. That’s when you turn on your heels and deliver a fat slap on his cheek, lightly stubbled and sweet, something you had hoped to plant a kiss on for many, many years.

“Your grace,” He grunts and rubs his chin, slightly amused. “Have I offended you?”

The slap couldn’t hurt that much, and this man never does amused. Even now, the mirth extends only to his eyes, never to his lips.

“You know perfectly well that you have, sir,” you clasp your hands in front of you, now entirely his princess even though you’re dressed like a peasant.

“My lady,” he bows both in body and in voice. “I truly don’t know what crime I have committed.”

You’ve never seen him so… jovial.

Usually this knight looks like there’s a stick up his ass, that someone pissed in his porridge and shat in his stew, that there’s nothing but hailstorms and calamity in his life.

Were you any more clever, you’d leave him be, but God has made it so that you’re drawn to battered and beaten animals. Of course you’re drawn to him too, lonely and spiteful as he is. This man broods so much you sometimes wonder if he’s the reason why it rains so violently up here in the hills. He probably summons dark clouds above the castle with those ponderous frowns alone – but now he’s looking at you as if he just woke up from the dead and walked into the shy sunshine after a long, harsh winter.

“You… You shouldn’t bed women,” you tell him, and he looks at you even more curiously.

“You shouldn’t pay for it,” you mumble next – unladylike, again, especially when your eyes turn to your shoes and away from that hawk-like, calm stare.

There’s a short silence after that, and you almost turn heel and walk back to the castle from the desire to escape the weight of his eyes. Eventually, he shifts his weight to the other leg and clears his throat.

“I sometimes pay for women to hold me. There’s nothing more to it.”

You raise your eyes to meet his, but the mirth is all gone now. It’s replaced by solemn acceptance, some sorrow you never even knew he had. Yes, he’s always silent and looks a bit pissed, but he’s not heartbroken, no, not your brave knight…

“To “hold you”, sir?”

The sorrow is covered with white lashes before you get to the bottom of it. Something tugs at the corner of his mouth—shame and frustration, probably.

“To hold me. Like a mother would. Is that a sin?”

His eyes search for yours from under dark brows, they beg for your consent as if it mattered to him. They’re quite catching, his eyes; enchanting in their intangibility. You know he doesn’t need your acceptance, nor is he threatened by your disgust. He’s unreachable, untouchable, forbidden—a mountain you can never climb because you wouldn't even find it among the mist. And those eyes see everything but feel nothing: they haven’t taken part in the troubles of this world in years.

…

He evades you for the whole of next week.

Leaves the hall if you choose to dine there, walks away when he sees you at the stables, looks through you if you have the courage to address him. You stand watch by the window every night to see if he slips out of the castle, but it seems your knight has lost his interest in kitchen wenches and copper hugs.

It burns like hot broth in your stomach, the thought of him in some other woman’s embrace. This mighty giant of a knight, kneeling in front of a girl, paying for her to simply put her arms around him.

You’re not sure if you’re childish to believe him and his words. To trust that he truly goes to them just to be held. You’re not sure if you’re the worst lover of poor, crippled creatures for not wanting to let him have even that...

Because you wish to hold him yourself, here, in the softest of all beds. Just wrap your arms around him after you’ve unburdened him of that heavy mail and thick gambeson; you’d help him with anything he needs. Let him sigh against you and have those lines of worry on his brooding face smooth somewhat. Maybe sing a soft song for him to help him sleep...

The thought of him being so lonely that he spends his wage on girls just to have a hug is driving you to madness.

It’s tearing you to pieces because he would never, ever have to pay you to hold him.

It’s forbidden, you know: this love you’ve harboured for years. He’s far below your rank, even as a bannerman, he’s far below you even if he’s taller than the tallest war horse in your father’s stables. He’s older than you too, but that’s hardly the biggest problem: your father took his second wife when he was five and thirty and the maid was seventeen. The match was considered perfectly normal, even healthy, but this would not. This would cause an outrage.

Oh yes, you’re to be wed far away to some sadistic young lord if your father has his way. You’re sure they’re already gossiping about it in the streets: how you should’ve been sold like a horse years ago. How is it that you’re still here, burdening the kingdom with your presence and swallowing up coin?

If they only knew that you’ve fought against every match with tooth and nail, the townsfolk would work themselves into a small uprising. And you’re not against marriage because you like it here so much... You’re against it because the knight who dresses himself in black mail and makes the servants piss themselves with his heavy footsteps alone makes your heart flutter like never before.

Your father would kill both of you if he knew.

And you wonder… What would he do? Your pale, brooding knight?

Would he scoff and turn his head away if he knew you dreamed of him before sleep, would he be appalled to hear that you’ve touched yourself to the thoughts of him? Would he think you a whore…?

You dress differently that night, the night you catch him escape the dull horrors of the castle once more. Boredom oozes out of the walls here, a poison of nothingness and despair. The stones won’t offer warmth, not even during the height of spring, so it’s no wonder that your knight is headed elsewhere for warmth and a mug of ale.

You dress accordingly to see what this toughest of knights is made of: with a brown woolen skirt and a white cotton blouse, you look the part of a kitchen maid who forgot half her garments at home.

People look at you in the streets, but without your usual attire and with your hair styled differently, they wouldn’t know who they’re looking at even if they saw you frolic around like this in court. You know they’re looking at you because you're a half naked woman ripe for taking, stubbornly out at night and dressed so suggestively it’s a miracle no guard rapes you before you reach the inn.

Maybe it’s the royal pride that keeps them away: you certainly look like you haven’t toiled in the fields or shoveled horse dung in your poor miserable life. There’s an air about you, and he notices it too, far before you’ve sat your pretty bum on the bench next to him.

“What are you doing,” he asks with a slightly alarmed voice.

He has that stick up his arse again, sits so straight that you’ve never seen such a ramrod back on anyone. When you set your hand over his, he only blinks.

“One silver to hold you, sir,” you lean to whisper on his skin, the shaved cheek you’ve wanted to kiss for so, so long. “What do you say...?”

He’s still breathing, even if there’s no sound to prove that he is. You can only see it from the rise and fall of his chest, covered by a stained, cream-white gambeson, that he’s breathing. He’s big, even without his armor, big and strong and intimidating, a tower of strength in one man.

“I cannot bed women,” he talks to the stout logs that make the walls of the inn, refusing to even look at you after one quick horrified glimpse.

“Who said anything about bedding?”

“This is a dangerous game, your grace,” he warns with a low purr when you won’t relent.

His voice is parched but smooth, and you smell smoke; delicious smoke from the fire that sticks to the clothes of a person who spends too many hours staring into a fire. You smell ham and earth and leather and sweat, horses and metal, the rusty stench of mail gone bad.

You wonder how you smell to his nostrils – is it something sweet? Fresh herbs and lavender oil maybe, or soft, spun wool, some tangerines and summer wine?

“I’m not your grace,” you tell him, nose now touching the bridge of his ear. “Not in here.”

You see from the turned sleeve of his padded tunic that the hairs on his arm are standing on end. His eyes are closed, and you can finally hear his ragged breaths. Desire speaks in them, or then you’re in over your head... Why else would he sound like that, like he’s already making love?

“One silver, sir, and I’ll hold you all night,” you repeat softly, and he swallows with a dry, open mouth.

“I don’t have such money on me,” he rasps, voice drenched in slow, drowsy want.

He wants this; wants, wants, wants….

“Really? Is my price too high?”

“Far too high for a man like me.”

You breathe a smile upon his skin, the place where his neck meets his jaw. Running your fingers across his wrist, you leave little to the imagination and you both know it.

“You can pay for the room and we’ll see how much you have left after that.”

“Princess, this is–”

“Hush.”

He’s in pain now, you can see it: the sharpness, the distant eagle gaze from his eyes is gone. He can barely keep his lids open, and when you peel the sleeve back with your hand, pet him like he’s one of your cats, press your lips on the spot you know is the most sensitive, he groans.

“You’re going too far,” he whispers, but won’t move. Breathless now, he can’t even speak with dignity. Gone are the distanced grunts and the composure, even the stick in his arse has melted away.

If a touch of your lips and the softest caress can do this to him, what would happen if you straddled his lap? How would it feel to be pressed against him, naked and entwined in a mutual embrace?

“You didn’t say no to that other girl,” you breathe more kisses on his skin. “Am I so horrendous…?”

“You–” he starts, opens his eyes somewhat. “You are teasing me on purpose.”

“You never were the brightest of my father’s knights,” you smile a little laugh in his ear.

He grabs his pint as if that could save him; out of fury or lust, you don’t know. And that’s when your little adventure gets interrupted: someone must’ve had enough of this disgusting display of seduction and whoring.

“Pardon me, lovebirds. The room’s a copper, if it please you,” a tired voice says from somewhere above. “And the ale is–”

“Ja, ja. I’ll pay,” your knight grunts with such annoyance that you’re not sure if he’s mad at you or the poor soul who interrupted you two.

Everyone here must think that you’re here to make some coin on a lonesome, desperate man. And he’s desperate, by God, he’s desperate… But when you walk upstairs and into your room, he takes a dip in cold waters without you knowing anything about it. When the door shuts behind you, your knight is back to the unbroken effigy he was last week, as he has always been.

“You sleep there,” he points at the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“There’s plenty of room on the–”

“One more word from that pretty mouth and I’ll tell your father what you’ve been up to.”

You’re sent to your bed without supper, in your silly clothes, and get to watch how he barely takes his boots off before setting himself down on the floor, back turned to you. The innocent question “You think my mouth is pretty?” only gets an irritated scoff for an answer.

From under the linens, you watch him sigh and slowly turn to stone on the cold floor. There’s a big rug there but it’s barely enough to keep the chill out, and the hearth is cold during late days of spring. You’re warm enough here under your sheet, but you would be warmer if your knight was here with you… Warm body against yours as you both hold each other through the night.

If only he could be enticed here by lying that you’re freezing... His honor would force him to share the bed with you, and your poor knight wouldn’t have to wake up with sore joints. The more you listen to him let out those occasional sighs, the more you want to shake this man. This silly act of martyrdom has to come to an end, now.

Slipping out from the warmth of your bed, you tiptoe to him. You know he can hear you, probably cursing in his mind with that crude foreign tongue of his. Laying yourself down behind him, you snuggle close until your front is glued to his back.

It must pain him to have a maiden leave the comfort of her bed and trade it for the dirty floor, but you wonder if there’s pleasure in the pain when your touch finds him once more. And it’s not just want and lust you feel when you place your arm around him. It’s not motherly love either, although you do feel like you’re embracing a giant child who doesn’t want to be comforted. You know nothing about how lovers touch or hold each other, you’ve never touched a man other than your father, and those touches were never affectionate and warm, those touches were barely there at all.

You wonder if you should be scared: you were taught that men will fuck everything that moves when given the chance. If a man of his size chose to take you here on this floor, there would be nothing left of you. Such an outcome seems dubious, however, when your sworn shield acts like he would rather be anywhere but here.

“Let me hold you,” you whisper when he continues to be stiff as a rock in your embrace. “You don’t have to pay me. Surely you know that you don’t have to–”

He moves, and at first you fear he’s about to rise and dart to the door. Make a run for it and slam it shut because you pushed it too far, his dumb, danger seeking maiden.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he turns around and buries his face somewhere in your neck. He does it so forcefully that you’re almost sent to lie on your back, and you barely catch the naked pain in his eyes before a rough arm snakes itself around your waist and pulls you close.

Warm breaths hit your skin, sending all the little hairs in your body shooting up – were he to move an inch further down, his face would be buried in your tits…

And then come the tears.

You’ve never heard a man cry like that – well, you’ve never heard a man cry at all. You didn’t even know they knew how to weep. It’s like all the tears in the world are reserved for women and children because there’s no wetness even now: your knight cries in thick, dry sobs, shudders that shake the both of you, years and years of suffering sighed through gritted teeth and into your hair.

Slowly, so slowly, you place your arm around him once more. Your hand barely reaches the middle of his back, so vast is this man, now only a crumbling mountain in your embrace. But when you won’t waver, when you refuse to turn your tail and run, he slowly melts in your arms like spring snow.

He still breathes as if in pain, the sounds that come out of his mouth heartbroken and strained. You’re not surprised to see that even his crying is an act of violence; he’s a man inconsolable.

And yet, you console him. Comfort him. Like a mother, you stay and let him cry his fill in your ear as he clutches you, threatening to tear the back of your poor cotton blouse while doing it.

When he’s done, the shakes recede and his body is warm and calm, soft, almost. He pants and swallows, comes down from it with so much shame that you’re sure he has never done this with anyone, not ever before.

And then…

“I beg for your forgiveness, my lady,” he gruffs on your skin. “That was–”

“Shh... It’s alright.”

You caress the back of his neck, sweaty from the toil. He releases the fabric of your blouse only to grab it again in an even tighter fist. The face in your neck is buried deeper, his lips now pressed right over your throat.

“It has always been you, Geliebte... God knows it has always been you.”

You freeze in the middle of his confession, the panting on your skin intolerably thick now. When you swallow against his mouth, he pulls you against him, the body that used to be rigid and cold now like a hot, thick furnace, threatening to devour yours.

“You must know it too,” he whispers. “You must. You’ve seen my torment. Tell me you’ve seen it…”

He’s not demanding more than he is desperate, some dam suddenly being breached by a long-held flood.

If anything, you thought he hated you... You thought you were alone in your anguish, but it turns out he has carried the same soft secret all these years.

And it drowns you for a moment, his want and yours. Hands trying to touch whatever they can, mouth searching yours like he’s about to die if he can’t have a sip. You’ve heard what happens to women who allow themselves to get groped in dark hallways and winding steps; they hardly ever escape a man’s touch with their maidenhood still intact. And yet, this is what you’ve always dreamed of; a hot, blunt, forbidden encounter with this man.

Now that he’s finally on fire for you, you’re not so sure though. What if you’re about to mate with a beast?

“Sir…” you whisper when he plants trembling kisses down your throat. He thinks you’re only moaning his title in the throes of pleasure, and squeezes you against him so hard that a tight little whimper is squished out of your mouth.

“I’m–I’m untouched,” you tell him before he sends his face between your tits, and it finally has the effect you feared and hoped for.

He freezes too, in the middle of tearing down your blouse. A shivering hand releases the fabric slowly, reverently; it rises to cup your face as your flushed knight meets your stare with shame.

“Of course you are,” he hushes upon your lips, strokes your cheek softly. “I cannot bed you. I know. But let me…”

He blushes while searching for the right words. That’s the moment when you start to suspect if he’s ever even been with a woman. What kind of a womanizer would blush when they’re about to make love to a lady?

“Let me make you feel good,” he finally suggests. “I’ve heard… of a way.”

He almost stutters when he says it, and you wonder if this is what he’s prayed forgiveness for. If he’s been thinking about different ways of wrecking you so much that it’s enough to send him to hell…

“And then,” he continues, “we’ll never speak of this again. You’ll become my lady, and I’ll become your sworn shield once more. We’ll be as we always were. As it always was...”

You’re not sure if you like that – returning to your status quo, becoming who you were before clutching each other on the floor like mad animals about to mate. But you nod.

Whatever he wishes to do to you, it must be something good, and you trust him. Even after he showed you a side of him you’ve never seen before, you’d trust this man with your life.

Your valiant knight carries you back to bed, and delivers on his promise. He never undresses you, he never defiles you. He just lifts your ankle to his lips and gives it a soft, reverent kiss, grazes your shin with his mouth before starting to worship you like a pagan idol of old.

You don’t know where he heard about it–at the stables, or the kitchen, at the barracks or the taverns–but the way with which he makes you squirm doesn’t require a cock, not even a hand. His lips are gentle, but his mouth is hungry, and you don’t know how to feel shame when he’s buried under your dress like that. You can’t even see his face when he makes you his, claims you with his mouth alone.

It must be a sin to not take you like a man takes a woman on a wedding night; it must be a sin that it does not hurt at all, what he wants to do to you. But you don’t care. Love is much better and far messier than how they depict it in the songs, and no one ever talks about the noises a man can make when they pleasure a woman.

He groans like a beast, but moans like a whore – it sends a flush of hot blood up your cheeks to hear him so utterly needy and vile. Your knight who barely gave you a grunt as a greeting in your father’s hall now whines with a broken pitch between your legs. His hot sighs drown your own, and you thank Saint Mary and all the angels that there’s loud music and booming laughter downstairs. It’s still there, the dirty tavern, even if you’re being sent to heaven on this bed...

He gives you mercy only after you break upon his mouth with a series of tight cries. Spends a lengthy amount of time under your dress too, licking and kissing you clean.

He doesn’t appear to be in any hurry to get out of there, but when he emerges, he looks like a drowned, happy puppy, this giant, brooding knight… The sight seizes your heart in a flaming hand that you know will never let go: it’s forever engraved in your heart, that drunken, devoted stare. You thought that men had the needs of an animal and that women were put on this earth just for them to have their fill, but when you look at your knight, it appears it’s the other way around... This man has finally found what he was looking for. Between your legs, he just found his Heaven on earth, his Holy Grail.

And so he returns from his quest with a devotion that leaves you breathless. Takes you in his arms like an injured bird, making you feel like it’s summer already, and the world is nothing but songs and tales and long nights of bliss.

“Know that I am yours,” he says. “Until my dying breath and even beyond, I’m yours.”

It’s a pledge, not a statement, and it’s said with so much weight that the vow he swore to your father pales in comparison.

“Sir... You always say such silly things,” you whisper back while lying in a pool of shimmering love, a heaven on earth indeed. Not even anointed, true to their faith knights talk like this… And he just smiles languidly when you raise a hand to brush his cheek.

He looks like another hug could save him, like a simple adoring stare from you is all that is needed to keep him going for another year. It irks you that he’s ready to settle for so little when you’re ready to give him everything he’s ever wanted and more. With what just happened, he’ll live on for a thousand, thousand years, he’ll survive even the coldest of nights – but you won’t.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you tell him, and a flash of fresh panic crosses his eyes.

“Süssling…”

He says it with worry, but does nothing when you send an exploring hand to his bulge. Drawing a sharp breath when you sweep your hand over it, he goes rigid again, this time for reasons other than just nervousness.

You’re younger and therefore more impatient, which means you’re at the strings of his pants in no time. He looks at your greed with a slack jaw and a set of furrowed brows, but never tries to prevent you. It only spurs you on that he’s acting so shy in front of an eager maiden when other men would already be bullying their cocks in your unexplored heat.

“This is madness,” he whispers when you pull out the heavy, hard cock that reminds you of the members you’ve seen on horses and bulls.

Of course the man’s big down there when he’s practically a myth walking… And there must be a way to pleasure him too, some lovely devilry that will leave you a maiden. A virgin for him to take on your wedding night – because you will marry this man, no matter what anyone says. You’ll burn the whole kingdom down before giving yourself to any other man.

You wrap your fingers around him to punctuate it that he’s yours. If he feared you might mirror what he just did to you, he makes no comment about it when you don’t, only whines when his cock is snared by a frail but eager hand.

“Princess,” he warns, slightly out of breath. “I will stain your dress…”

“Shh. Show me how to please you.”

The worry in his eyes is wild and bright, but the way your fingers mold around him leaves no space for arguments. A broken, stiff sigh is punched out of him when you begin to move: if he won’t show you how, it’s no trouble at all to try and find out yourself.

But when your thumb sweeps over the weeping tip of him, he finally brings a trembling hand upon yours. He starts to guide you, adjusts your grip, huffs when you both apply pressure on it. The curious creature that you are, you look down to witness the ugly beauty of it all.

It’s intimidating and rough, the cock in your hand... It looks like a weapon, honestly, a battering ram that leaks heady liquid from the head. Smooth and heavy and ripped with veins, it’s like a too hard muscle about to bludgeon something, and your hand is making it drool profusely. Would that it were inside you, you would be in grave danger, and why is it that you find the prospect so seductive?

His hand is far bigger than yours, and it makes your heart run wild, the way he tries to be gentle while using your grip to get himself off. He can’t even keep his eyes open from the shame, just takes a quick glance at your enthralled face before squeezing his eyes shut once more.

“Look at me,” you command softly, and he obeys – what else can a sworn knight do? – but you can see that the poor man is on the verge of tears. Shaking and panting, he stares at you while fucking himself with your hand, and when you close the small breath of air between you and kiss him, he melts.

The first thick spurt surprises you completely, you even mewl into his mouth when it shoots to stain your dress. You didn’t expect that to happen, at least not so fast… And because this is the first time you’ve seen a man come undone, you quickly leave the panting, moaning mouth and look down.

There’s so much of it, and the release is so violent; it looks and sounds like it hurts because the man is shuddering and groaning as if stabbed. Thick, white pulses of seed coat the brown wool of your dress, but it soaks the semen gladly: there’s nothing left of his cum other than dark, damp stains after he’s done.

And there’s no end to his shame. He pries your hand away from his cock as soon as he’s somewhat composed. Does it with a shaky hand, wipes what little stains of hot, wet seed you have on your palm to his pants, and all you’re thinking about is what it would feel like to have this giant trembling and groaning like that above you, inside you… If you could even take all of that thick, brutal length. If he would be able to move away when inside your heat, if he’d let you hug him again, just hold him close so that he’d never ever leave anymore…

“I have soiled you,” he mutters while looking at your skirt.

“Nonsense. You have only claimed me... I’m yours now.”

“Princess… No amount of silver–”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

You actually manage to kiss him silent. Tears begin to run down his face when you show him where he belongs. It’s the final surrender as he pulls you into his arms and finally drowns you in love – at last, you find yourself under him as he takes what's his. What seems like hours later, he breaks the kiss, only to look into your eyes with full-blown adoration.

“How am I to live without you after this?”

“You don’t have to. Not ever,” you say.

“Princess. If there was any hope for me to have your hand, if there was any hope that your father would give it, I would have carried you away from this place years ago.”

For a while, you fear it’s the fear of sin that burns him. But then you realize it was always only just you.

He looks so anguished now, even more in pain, when all you wanted to do was relieve his agonies. This was only a taste of what he can’t have. You both took a bite of the forbidden fruit but can’t eat the entire thing – no wonder he looks like he’s cast out of heaven he didn’t know even existed.

“Sir, I cannot do this,” you grab his face with both hands now. “Please don’t make me do this...”

He sighs and looks at the mess you just made. He’s broken every oath he’s ever taken, and the evidence is scattered right there between you. The only thing deadlier than this would’ve been if he pumped all of that hot, fluid sin inside you.

“Sweetling,” he laments. “Look at us. You’ve already ruined me. Ruined us both…”

“It’s called love, silly.”

He breathes a short, shy smile, the first you’ve ever seen on him. It’s cute and makes him look young, the quick flash of teeth between unruly lips, the almost bashful, downcast eyes that are not quite ready to meet the full brunt of your devotion.

“Ja,” he breathes. “Ich weiss.”

Then he brings his eyes back to yours, his smile slowly making way for a more serious expression. He lifts a hand to touch your cheek, and you find yourself soaring in the sky like a bird, a phoenix that has risen from the dead. It’s heavenly, the way you both caress each other, here on the lowly tavern’s bed, covered in salt, sweetness and sin.

“Your father will have both our heads if he finds out,” he tells you as if you needed the reminder.

“I pray our heads will never be separated then.”

He snorts a quick smile again. It makes you heady, that you’re apparently the only one who can make this gruesome giant laugh.

“You’re dangerous, princess,” he gruffs. “I knew you were trouble… And yet I curse all the years I left you in peace.”

“I know,” you smile. “Never the brightest one, my love...”

When you lie in his arms that night and tell him about your silly little fantasies, he grows hard again. When you tell him you now have new ones—ones where you’d want to feel him inside you—he looks like a man condemned to death.

The stares he shoots your way make it clear that he’s lost – no matter what he says, he can’t be kept away from you, not anymore. You suppose he’ll forsake even more secret promises and vows before forsaking the pledge he swore to you. Even at the cost of your lives, he’ll come scratching at your door, howling for some quick, hot love in the night, begging for you to give him everything he has denied himself.

And eventually, you grow more serious too. While lying in his arms, safe and tucked away from all the horrors of this world, you play with the leather strings of his gambeson, tugging them and twisting them around your finger like a child.

“There will come a day when they promise me to another,” you whisper, wondering if he’s already asleep.

He promised to never leave your side again, he promised. And still… What will happen when the carriage and horses take you to some distant, hostile kingdom, far away from him? What if you only get this summer together, and then nothing no more?

“They’ll take me away,” you tell him, almost without a voice.

A soft, hearty grumble answers, a man who finally knows what he’s fighting for.

“No one will take you away, sweetling. Not as long as I live.”

#könig x reader #könig x you #medieval au #konig x reader #könig fanfiction #cheesy romance warning

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