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#i think it makes way more sense for it to be around 8 hours between the double and triple events lol
unnonexistence · 4 months
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im going to have to rewatch pacific rim again and take my own notes on the timeline because the timeline given on the wiki makes NO SENSE. supposedly the double event was jan. 8 and pitfall was jan. 12, but newt was in the bone slums from before otachi's attack right up until his drift with hermann, which was DURING pitfall. you cannot tell me that was four days.
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ken-jaku · 7 months
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happy valentine. zayne from love and deepspace
content warnings. smut, fem!reader, use of drugs (aphrodisiacs in choco-covered strawberries ), evol malfunctions, zayne's got a huge dick, inspired by mr. & mrs. smith, fucking you full nelson, cervix-hitting but realistic? aka it hurts like a bitch (might do a fantasy one next time idk), reverse cowgirl, riding, creampie oops, mentions of impregnating (could be just be a kink, up to interpretation), erm.. mentions of sharing wine.. via the mouth.. in a lewd way
word count. 1.3k (done in a timestamp format)
8:00PM
the two of you found solace in italy, going there for vacations whenever zayne was granted his leave of absence.
with his money saved and ready to spend on you, he bought a secluded house surrounded by a lake and mountainous terrain. it was perfect, especially for a guy like zayne who wasn't entirely a fan of pda but liked the idea of it.
zayne catches you outside, lying on an armchair, drinking your wine as you watch the sun disappear into the freshwater body. your skin looked oh, so radiant as golden hour did its job. sun-kissed skin, plump lips sipping your wine and your eyes appeared lighter than usual thanks to the beaming light.
"started without me, i see? did you bring them?" you smile, craning your neck to look at the tall man behind you.
"mhm!" you pull out a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, taking a bite of one before handing the rest over to your boyfriend. taking them, he takes a seat in the chair beside you.
8:25PM
"c'mere," zayne's words came out in pants, his face damp with sweat while you were practically drowning in your own. the aphrodisiacs were finally kicking in.
smiling, you take a sip of your wine before leaning over to kiss him. zayne wastes no time in prodding your mouth with his tongue, the kiss getting sloppy unusually fast as you two share the small drops of wine between you.
you break the kiss to put down your glass of wine, turning your face away from his for just a moment. as you're about to turn back, you find zayne standing right in front of you, impatience riddling his core. he bends over, his hand grabbing your neck as his lips find yours again.
just as he's about to lift your shirt, a loud firework startles the both of you.
"oh, fuck-" you almost shout before laughing. the startled look on zayne's makes you swoon- his eyes wide as his mouth parts just slightly. he's just so cute! the man can only rest his head on your chest in a sulky manner as he tries to calm his heart. you had honestly scared him more than the fireworks did.
his sneaky hands still find their way under your shirt and on your tits in an attempt to save the mood- as well as for his own pleasure... and comfort.
but you just can't hold in your laugh as you replay the image of zayne almost shitting himself, "i'm so-sorry." you snicker. zayne sighs, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. your hand over was your mouth, cheekbones struggling to stay down as you just couldn't resist smiling. god, were you gorgeous.
8:30PM
"hm- fuck!" the atmosphere was no longer light-hearted. the sound of skin on skin with the distant drums of music and laughter from the festival across the lake could be heard.
zayne had you in full nelson. his thick cock bullying its way up into your cunt at a delicious speed. his cheeks were flushed red, lips bleeding as he broke the skin from biting it too much- too focused on pleasuring you. he also hopes that pounding you is enough for you to forget about the scare earlier.
the aphrodisiac fucking with your bodies gave you two an increased sense of pleasure, senses heightening as all he could think about was your pussy wrapped around his cock.
"fuck, you feel so good." he grunts. all you can do is helplessly moan as you look down at the sight before you. his cock was angled so right but zayne, not thinking straight, attempts to bottom out inside of you. he successfully does it... at your expense. holding you tighter, he pounds you, rapidly hitting your cervix a numerous amounts of time.
the pain makes you jolt as you hiss, tears welling, "zayne! fuck, it hurts! stop!"
zayne, himself, is startled. stopping his movements, he tends to you.
"are...are you alright?"
"fuck, zayne that really hurt. you know not to go that deep!" you pout, his dick still in you, deliciously filling you to the brim and deliciously filing your brain with him, your teary eyes severely dilated. he's not gonna lie, you saying that, especially with that face, made his dick twitch.
"fuck-baby. i'm sorry," he pants, "do you want to stop?"
"i wanna continue... just don't do it again," you mumble, a slight ache running through your body as you begin to ride his cock, your back facing him. moans start to build up again as the two of you continue to chase that high.
"hmm- d-does it feel good?" the sentence sounds borderline pornographic when you say it, chasing his validation. your thighs shake as zayne grabs your tits to squeeze, teeth biting at your collarbone as he lets you use him.
"mhm, so good, pretty girl. so good." he whispers even more praises by your ear, stumbling over most of his words considering he can't seem to keep a single notion in his head. the way you have him wrapped around your finger makes you smile and you lift yourself off of your lover to turn around and face him. you just had to see that pretty face before you came. sinking yourself back down on his cock, you speed up, the constant praises were doing wonders for your ego.
"mmphf- you're so pretty zayne. so pretty," you smile deliriously, " 'n i'm so happy i get to be with you-fuck!" your head finds its way to zayne's neck. diving nose first, you snuggle into him while his arms find their way around your waist, hugging you tight as he basks in the proximity.
"shit. are you close?" your thighs were beginning to burn but the way his burly cock jabbed at your spot, you couldn't let up- not when your orgasm was closely approaching.
zayne can only nod as his eyes roll back into his head. you were fucking him dumb. cunt clamping around his dick so deliciously.
"gonna-cum." your boyfriend chokes out, his hand reaching for your waist to lift you off him but you don't budge. shaking your head, you babble some words coherently while the others make no sense at all, "cum inside me. gimmeababy, please, fuck a baby up into me."
wasting no time, zayne attempts to meet your thrusts just enough so it doesn't hurt you again and instead coaxes both your highs with the utmost pleasure, his hands gripping your waist roughly.
"zayne, i'm cum-ming!" you cry out, nails digging into his collarbones and he follows right after you, spurting load after load inside of you, a whiny moan leaving him in the process as his evol malfunctions- frost covering his palm and your waist, specifically where his nails dug into. finally coming to your senses, blinking slowly, you feel the wet coldness, your body shivering despite the warm temperatures. looking down, you spot the transparent crystals sticking you to your boyfriend.
"zayne?" you whisper as you shudder. he hums, looking at you before he spots the crystals in the corner of his eyes. he stares at it, blinking once. twice. jolting up, he accidentally bucks his hips up into you, causing you both to hiss at the overstim, as he realizes what he was looking at was, in fact, real.
"shit, i'm sorry. you okay?" you nod, curiously poking at the crystals.
zayne closes his eyes in an attempt to relax, allowing the crystals to shrink in size before ultimately disappearing. he kisses your cheek, murmuring apologies as he runs his hand alongside your cold waist.
"you don't have to apologize... it's not you'll give me frostbite." you joke though zayne doesn't take it lightly, humming in response.
"happy valentines day, my love." zayne kisses your hand, his thumb rubbing it softly.
"mmm, happy valentines." you say drowsily, rubbing your cheek against his chest.
the two of you sit there, basking in the afterglow and silence as you watch the fireworks in the sky, cuddled up against each other.
with his cock still stuffing you full, of course!
note. dis shit late asl especially considering i wrote this so long ago, so sawry y'all! also the "fuck, zayne that really hurt." section kinda gave me ideas but i shan't speak on them. oh lawdy!
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gigabyte-flare · 11 months
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He Comes Alive (Part 6)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Summary: Your mother informs you that your father is missing and a search party is formed. You start to notice Leon's acting strange, too. In the weeks that follow, you start getting sick; it must just be stress, right?
Word Count: 5k
Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]
A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists
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Leon walks through the front door, glancing over at the kitchen clock as he walks through; it’s just past three in the morning. He takes a moment to toss the shirt clutched in his left hand into the washing machine. He then makes his way up the stairs, into the master bedroom and stopping in the threshold of the master bathroom, checking to make sure his angel is still asleep. He smirks upon seeing she is out like a light still; the sleeping drug he laced her drink with last night is working wonders. She was asleep by 8 last night.
Satisfied that she’s asleep, he walks into the bathroom, softly closing the door and turning on the light, revealing that from his head to just above his hips, with the exception of one spot on his pants where he had wiped his dominant hand off, he is covered in blood. He stares at himself in the mirror, his crimson eyes dilating at the sight of her father’s blood all over him.
Leon was surprised Mick had put up quite the fight, despite being unarmed; having chased him for a couple hours before finally wearing him down; he certainly had made it fun for Leon. When he had finally gotten him cornered, Leon made sure his death was slow and agonizing, after getting his fill of blood, of course. Fish and Game is going to have a really hard time finding what’s left of Mick.
Leon turns around, turning the shower on and letting it warm up, taking a moment to take off the rest of his clothing before stepping into the shower to clean himself up. After getting all the blood off and ensuring the shower is clean, he steps out, putting on a pair of sweatpants and retracing his steps to ensure he didn’t drip or get blood on anything. Once he’s satisfied that he left no trace of blood behind, he returns to the master bedroom, to his sleeping angel.
Upon entering the bedroom, he stands at the foot of the bed for a moment, admiring her sleeping form. He leans down, gently pulling the comforter off her. She’s lying on her back, wearing a thin white tank top and light pink underwear with lace on the hem, having a small pink bow in the middle. Leon can’t help but think how perfect that is. Beneath that little bow, he can sense that his seed is growing inside her; the larvae having successfully attached itself to the embryo.
Overcome with emotion, Leon gingerly climbs onto her, placing his lips onto her lower stomach and giving tender kisses as his hands rub up and down the sides of her thighs and hips. She stirs in her sleep, letting out a soft groan as she begins to awaken.
“Leon…? Your hair’s wet, did you take a shower?”
Leon lifts his head, giving her a gentle smile, “I did, I couldn’t sleep. Good morning, angel.”
He crawls over her before kissing her deeply, his fingers running through her hair as he slips his tongue into her mouth. She reciprocates without any hesitation, her arms draping around his shoulders to pull him closer. He brings his hand between their bodies, his fingers sliding across the soft fabric of her underwear, finding her clit and rubbing gentle circles into it, eliciting a soft moan from her as they continue to kiss. 
The sound of the phone ringing downstairs instantly ruins the moment, Leon letting out a frustrated sigh as he glances over at the clock on the bedside table. It reads 5:42am. 
“Let me get that, must be important if someone’s calling at this hour,” Leon says as he crawls off his angel. 
He makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen, picking up the phone off the receiver, “hello?”
“Leon, it’s Sandi. I’m so sorry for calling this early. Is my daughter around?”
“It’s no trouble at all, no need to apologize,” he says before holding the phone away from his mouth to call out, “angel! It’s your mom!”
“I’m coming!” he hears her reply.
He listens intently at the soft sounds of her bare feet coming down the stairs. She comes into the kitchen, taking the phone from Leon.
“Hey Mom, what’s going on?” she asks.
Leon doesn’t need to hear what Sandi is saying to her, he knows exactly what she’s calling about. He watches as her face slowly transforms, filled with worry.
“No, neither of us have heard from Dad, why?”
Another pause, the worry on her face is then consumed by complete distress.
“What do you mean Dad’s missing?! Have you reported this to the police yet?”
It takes everything in Leon to not smile as an overwhelming sense of dominance and pride fills him, his eyes locked on his angel as she continues to talk on the phone.
“Alright, please keep us posted. If you need us, we’ll be there in a heartbeat. Take care Mom.”
She puts the phone on the receiver, letting out a heavy sigh.
“What was that all about, everything ok?” Leon asks, feigning concern. 
She looks at him, “Mom woke up this morning and Dad wasn’t in bed. She thought maybe he had just fallen asleep in the recliner but when she went down to check, the TV was on but he was nowhere to be found.”
“Where the hell could he have gone?” Leon asks, shaking his head.
“That’s the weird part, I have no idea, unless…” he watches as she consumes herself in thought for a moment before continuing, “oh god… you don’t think he tried to go after the B.O.W. himself, do you?”
To be honest, Leon is impressed that she came to that conclusion, but knowing how much her father wanted to get Leon out of the picture, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still, her intellect just confirms to him that he picked the perfect mate, the perfect mother to his offspring. 
Leon furrows his brows, rubbing them with his fingers before replying, “shit…”
She grabs the phone again, dialing her parents’ house.
“Mom it’s me, have you called the police to report Dad missing yet? I… I think I know where he went…”
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You, your mother and Leon sit at your parents’ dining room in complete silence. Upon your arrival there, Chief Bob and several members of New Hampshire Fish and Game were there with your mother; you had let them know to search the woods behind the fairgrounds, suspecting that your father had gone out to take care of the B.O.W. himself. Or rather, as you told the officers, ‘the animal.’
What impresses you is how calm Leon is. There’s almost a strange aura of serenity surrounding him and it’s clearly having an effect on both you and your mother. 
“Of course Mick would do something so stupid,” your mother says, breaking the silence as she stands up from the table, going over to the kitchen sink to do up the dishes from the impromptu breakfast she had made the three of you. 
Leon then abruptly gets up, following your mother over to the sink, “Sandi, let me do these for you. You have enough to worry about right now.”
You watch as Leon gently moves your mother away from the sink, gesturing her to sit back down at the table, clearly not taking no for an answer. Your mother simply nods, sitting back down next to you as Leon begins washing the dishes.
“What was Mick hoping to accomplish, going out on his own like that?” Sandi asks as she sits back down next to you at the table, “he’s heard about what this animal has done to people!”
“I have no idea…” you lie.
But you do have an idea. Knowing your father, he wanted Leon out of the picture in any possible way he could get him out. No B.O.W.? No Leon. Mick’s dilemma was solved in his mind. A sudden knock at the door rips you from your thoughts and you watch as your mother immediately gets up to answer the door. You get up and follow her.
On the other side is Chief Bob and judging by the look on his face, he isn’t the bearer of good news; he clears his throat before he speaks, “we found… evidence of a struggle and this.”
Chief Bob lifts his clenched hand, opening it to reveal a ring caked in blood. You could recognize that plain titanium wedding band anywhere; it is your father’s.
“Sandi I’m so sorry… it’s likely that your husband is dead.”
The wailing sound your mother then begins to make is almost inhuman. She takes the ring from Chief Bob’s palm, clutching it in her own hands and falling to her knees. You feel tears form in your own eyes as well. Yeah, your father was a pain in the ass, yeah he was hard on you, but it was never from a place of malice. He always wanted what was best for you, being his only child.
You get on your knees, wrapping your arms around your mother in an attempt to comfort her. It’s then that the reality of your father being gone sinks in and you join your mother in sobbing. You look up to Leon, who’s still standing at the kitchen sink. You open your mouth to speak but you cut yourself short when you see Leon was looking at you, adverting his gaze away and back to the dishes. That in itself was strange, however what you had seen on his face unsettles you.
He had been smiling. 
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In the weeks that follow after your father’s death, you do everything in your power to distract yourself; not only of the fact that your father is gone but of Leon’s strange behavior that day. You try to brush it off as maybe his nerves getting the better of him, after all, everyone deals with grief and traumatic events differently. But the more you try not to think about it, the more you realize that each time another body had turned up, Leon was always weirdly calm.
Was your father right about him? Is he somehow involved?
“Don’t be stupid,” you say to yourself quietly as you climb out of bed to go into the bathroom, “he’s a government agent, he’s probably trained to be calm…”
You can hear Leon working in the living room downstairs as you go into the bathroom. A sudden wave of nausea had come over you, as it had the past few mornings. You close the bathroom door and barely make it to the sink when you retch up the contents of your stomach; granted it hadn’t been much. Your arms tremble as you prop yourself over the bathroom sink; at this point you’re dry heaving, your stomach in literal knots. After a few minutes, the nausea passes. You try to wrap your head around what has been making you sick the last few mornings, not recalling eating something that would make you this violently ill. One thought suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks: pregnancy.
It’s been a few weeks since that night when you came home from the Harvest Festival; when Leon had fucked you in this very spot and came in you. Your blood runs cold at the realization. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you go back into the bedroom and get dressed. You decide to go to the store, buy some pregnancy tests just to be sure. It could be something totally unrelated; how often do people get pregnant after having unprotected sex just once, right? You recall your parent’s had struggled to have you. 
Once dressed, you head downstairs, smiling at Leon as you walk past him working, “Leon I’m going to head to the store real quick, I’ll be back.”
Leon stops what he’s working on, turning to you, “Oh? I’ll go with you,” he says as he puts down his tools.
You feel the color leave your face as you internally panic, “No Leon it’s fine! I don’t want to distract you from your work. I won’t be gone long, I promise.”
Leon’s eyes are locked on you as you figure he’s contemplating letting you go alone or not. You internally let out a sigh of relief when he picks his tools back up to continue working.
“Alright, but come right back, ok?” he says, focusing his attention back to what he was working on.
“I will,” you say, not wasting time walking into the kitchen to grab your purse and your jacket. 
You go outside, the chill November air going straight to your bones despite having a jacket on. You climb into your car, turning the ignition. As soon as the car revs to life, you drive off.
You decide to go to the grocery store in Plymouth, not wanting to risk bumping into anyone you knew while buying pregnancy tests. Plus, it felt good to go for a ride alone; a chance to go through your thoughts and feelings. 
Why hadn’t you made him pull out that night? Why had you been so completely lost in the moment? The words he growled into your ear that night were very much etched in your mind. Even so, would he even want a baby with you? Do you even want a baby?
You shake your head, doing your best to convince yourself you’re not pregnant and the sickness was just from all the stress; that the pregnancy tests were just a precaution, something to ease your mind. You pull your car into the grocery store, heading in and picking up some snacks so that you weren’t just buying the tests. 
You go into the feminine hygiene aisle, locating the pregnancy tests. There were several brands, so you decide to pick a couple different ones, putting them into your cart and going to the check out to purchase everything. You feel like everyone’s eyes are on you as you go up to the cash register, even the cashier seems to give you a weird look as they ring up the pregnancy tests. You do your best not to make eye contact as you pay for your things and leave.
You drive back to Leon’s house, making sure the tests were buried beneath the snacks in the grocery bags as you walk inside.
“Leon I’m back!” you call out as you walk into the living room to go up the stairs.
You watch as Leon again stops what he’s doing, smiling over at you as you ascend the stairs, “welcome back, angel. Did you buy anything good?”
You swallow hard, stopping mid-way up the stairs and turn to him, “I got us some snacks, want some?”
“Sure!” Leon replies with a smile.
You pull out a bag of Doritos, tossing them gently to him, watching as he catches the bag with ease, “there you are, don’t eat the whole thing.”
Leon chuckles and gives you a playful wink before returning his focus to his work. You let out a sigh of relief, going back up the stairs to go into the bathroom. Upon entering, you quickly close the bathroom door and lock it, setting the grocery bag onto the bathroom counter, fishing the pregnancy tests out. 
The actual tests proved to be more complicated than you ever imagined, requiring you to somehow get it so that you pee on them; easier said than done. After a few minutes of struggling, you manage to use all the tests you got, setting them face down onto the bathroom counter to process. You clean yourself up and sit on the toilet seat to anxiously wait.
After what seems like an eternity, you reluctantly stand up and walk over to the bathroom counter, you flip each test over, one by one. Each of them has the same result: Positive.
In that moment, every single swear word runs through your mind. Your eyes widen and your heart races. What if Leon gets mad? Are you even ready to raise a child? What will your mother think? What will the town think? Getting pregnant out of wedlock isn’t as uncommon as it used to be, but Oakvale is still a fairly religious community; you fear the worst.
You gather up the tests in your hand, opening the bathroom door to go back downstairs. When you reach the bottom, you simply stop and watch Leon work, your hand holding the tests trembling as you try to think of what to say to him. 
As if sensing your presence, Leon once again stops, turning to you and seeing your pained expression, “angel, what’s wrong?”
“I…” you begin, a sob catching your voice as fear completely envelopes you, “I think I’m pregnant…”
You watch Leon’s mouth hang open for a second before a smile consumes it, “really?!”
Much to your surprise, Leon drops everything, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you, his face burying itself in your hair and placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. He steps back, seeing the tests clutched in your hand. He takes them from you, looking at each, seeing how all of them say positive for pregnancy. 
“You’re… not mad?” you ask, your voice still trembling.
“Why on Earth would I be mad?”
You shake your head, relief flooding over you now that you know Leon seems to be thrilled with the news.
“We can turn the spare bedroom into a nursery! Wait until we tell your Mom, she’s going to be so happy to have some good news for a change!”
“Th…Thanksgiving is in a few days, we should tell her then!” you say, your worry being replaced by enthusiasm.
You feel so much better now knowing that Leon’s not angry and clearly wants a family with you. The morning of Thanksgiving arrives and you and Leon are working on a green bean casserole to bring over to your mother’s house. Once that’s made up, you and Leon get it packed up in his Jeep and waste no time driving to your parents’ house.
Once there, your mother greets you enthusiastically, you can hear some of your extended family members already inside. You place the warm casserole by the other dishes before taking a seat at the dining table. Leon wastes no time getting to know your family, seated at the table is your uncle Dennis, who’s married to your Mom’s sister Donna, who’s helping your Mom with the turkey in the kitchen and your other aunt and uncle on your Dad’s side: Joel and his wife Marlene with their two young kids Adam and Mary-Ann, who are seated at a ‘kids table’ off to the side of the dining room. 
Leon didn’t tell your family much about himself, giving them the same retired government agent story he had told you and your parents when you first met him. You remain quiet, becoming a bundle of nerves as the day wears on, scared of how your family is going to react to your pregnancy. Your Mom and your aunt coming in with the turkey snaps you out of your nervous thoughts and you take the opportunity to stand up and help them bring all the other food into the dining room.
You watch as Marlene helps her two children get their food, which isn't much because they are ridiculously picky. You on the other hand take a little bit of almost everything, especially the green bean casserole since that’s your favorite. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon doesn’t take that much either; mostly the dark meat of the turkey, potatoes and some stuffing. 
Once everyone has their food, everyone at the ‘adults’ table engages in mindless small talk, meanwhile your focus is on eating and making sure you don’t throw up from your nerves. After a while, you hear Leon clear his throat to get everyone’s attention, putting a huge pit into your stomach.
“So… we have something really exciting to tell everyone,” Leon begins, placing his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it in small circles; he looks over to you, giving you a soft smile, “do you want to tell them the good news?”
You take a deep breath before giving him a slight nod; when you speak, your voice is just above a whisper, “I’m… um… we’re…”
At this point, everyone is staring at you. You feel yourself freeze up, your mind racing and your heart pounding.
“It’s alright, I’m right here,” you hear Leon encourage as he leans in to whisper in your ear.
“Sorry…” you say, swallowing hard, “we’re expecting…”
You watch your aunt Donna blink a few times before widening her eyes, “I’m sorry… you’re what?”
“I’m… I’m pregnant.” you finally say, cutting to the chase. 
Your uncle Dennis practically spits out the beer he had been sipping on and your uncle Joel nearly chokes on the food he was eating. Your mother simply stares at you, seemingly dumbfounded. You immediately feel embarrassed.
“Was this… intentional?” your aunt Marlene asks, the concern evident in her voice.
“Well, no--”
“Yes. We love each other so much, so we’re very eager to start a family together, isn’t that right angel?” Leon says, cutting you off as he looks over to you, smiling and rubbing your back.
You look at him for a second, raising an eyebrow. The realization that his every intention that night after coming home from the festival was to get you pregnant sends chills through your entire body. You didn’t know how to feel about that at all. 
Not wanting to cause a scene, you nod, addressing your family, “yes, it just felt right to start a family together. With all the sadness lately, we thought bringing a new life into the world would raise our family’s spirits.”
Your Mom then smiles, a single tear running down her cheek, “honey that’s wonderful news. When are you due?”
“We figured out it's around the end of July, give or take," Leon replies, a proud smirk spreading across his lips.
The mood in the room immediately shifts, your family now seemingly excited for you and Leon. Everyone is throwing out name suggestions, making bets on whether it’ll be a boy or a girl. All the while, you can’t seem to shake the uneasiness growing inside you. You unconsciously place a hand on your lower stomach. After a moment, you flinch your hand away, surprise overwhelming you.
You felt it move, that’s not possible, right?
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The weeks that follow feel like a blur. When Christmas comes around, you and Leon are overwhelmed with gifts for the baby: clothes, toys and even furniture for the nursery. With each day, your pregnancy is beginning to show more and more, so much so that you had to go out and buy new clothes. Sleeping is also becoming a challenge, as you can’t seem to find a comfortable position with your swollen belly.
It’s New Year’s Eve and you are awoken to Leon touching, kissing and talking to your belly. It’s his daily ritual now. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you smile when you see Leon kissing and rubbing your belly. You would even say that Leon is more excited about this baby than you are, not that you’re not, of course. The baby always seems to react to him, becoming especially mobile in your belly when he talks to it, but you knew that had to be a coincidence. He notices you awake, propping himself on top of you and crawling up to you, kissing you deeply.
“How’s my favorite Momma doing?” he asks before kissing along your jawline.
“Very tired,” you admit, shifting yourself so that you’re sitting up in bed, “this big belly makes it hard to get comfortable.”
Leon sits down on the bed next to you, his concern written on his face as he caresses your belly with the back of his fingers, “I know. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. Our little one is growing like a weed.”
“I wasn’t expecting my belly to get this big so soon, everyone in town thinks we’re having twins,” you reply with a laugh as you rub your belly.
Leon lets out a chuckle, “we’re definitely not. Just one very healthy baby.”
Leon’s hand moves from your belly, across your thigh and settling between your legs, his fingers caressing your clit through your underwear. A soft gasp escapes you, your legs unconsciously spreading open as you lean your head back against the headboard of the bed.
“That’s it, angel, make yourself comfortable. I’ll take care of you,” Leon coos as his fingers push your underwear aside, his middle and ring fingers slipping into your leaking hole with ease as his thumb continues to rub your throbbing clit. 
His fingers caress your g-spot just right every time, causing you to arch your back and let out soft moans as you close your eyes, enjoying the moment. You feel his hand gently grasp one of your breasts, wincing a moment as they had become extremely sensitive since you had fallen pregnant. With each thrust of his fingers you are brought closer to your release, your fingers gripping onto the sheets in the bed as your legs begin to tremble.
Then, Leon pushes his fingers as deep inside you as he possibly can, causing you to cry out as you come all over his fingers. Leon rests his head on your shoulder as he gently massages your breast, pulling his fingers out but still rubbing gentle circles into your clit. 
“Such a good Momma you are,” he praises, kissing the crook of your neck as he starts to pull down his sweatpants.
A loud banging on the front door interrupts him; he lets out an audible growl in annoyance. He waits a moment, hoping the person would go away, but the banging resumes, making the whole house shake.
“Better see who that is,” Leon says, his tone flat as he climbs out of the bed. 
As Leon makes his way downstairs, you decide to get up and throw some clothes on yourself, grabbing a pair of maternity jeans and one of Leon’s t-shirts to put on. 
“What the fuck?!” you hear Leon shout, followed by what sounds like a struggle.
“Leon!” you call out, rushing yourself down the stairs to the front door.
What greets you outside is like something out of a movie. Several armored trucks are in the driveway, men with guns and full tactical gear surround the house. One of the men has Leon pinned onto the ground, seemingly injecting some kind of liquid into his neck.
“What are you doing to him?!” you cry out, bursting out the front door to come to Leon’s aid, “stop it!”
As soon as you’re outside, two men grab each of your arms, holding you back. Looking around, you also see that there are large light panels on the armored trucks, emitting a strange, purple light, piercing the darkness of the early morning.
“Ma’am you need to come with us, it’s not safe here,” one of the men commands.
“What on Earth are you talking about?! Let me go!” you protest, desperately trying to pull yourself away from the men's grasp.
“We’re gonna have to tranq her,” you hear the other man say.
“Let me go! I’m fucking pregnan--!”
You feel something pierce your neck and in that next moment, the whole world is spinning, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you lose consciousness.
You awake to the most massive headache you have ever experienced in your life, your eyes open and promptly closing when you find you’re laying in a bed in a completely white room with bright, blinding lights. You slowly sit up, rubbing your neck where you had gotten injected with the tranquilizer; it’s very sore and tender there. You look around at your surroundings. The walls are covered in a white padding, much like you’d find at a mental hospital with what you assume is a locked door on the other side. After a few minutes, a man with a white lab coat comes into the room, stating your name with a questioning inflection in his voice.
“Yeah…” you reply, your voice still groggy from having been drugged, “that’s me.”
“Come with me, the director would like to see you.”
The man helps you stand up, holding you gently by the arm as he leads you out of the room. Going down a hallway, he then turns and brings you into another room, this one has the same white walls, but this time there is a table with two chairs on either side. The man sits you down in the chair farthest from the door.
“The director will be with you shortly,” the man says before leaving the room, the door audibly locking upon his exit.
You wrap your arms around yourself, pinching your arm to make sure you’re not dreaming. Your thoughts are immediately on Leon, wondering where he is and hoping that he’s ok. You then focus your attention on your belly, rubbing it softly, hoping the tranquilizer didn’t hurt your baby. The sound of the door unlocking breaks you out of your thoughts and you look up to the door and watch a different man wearing a dark green jacket with salt and pepper dark hair walk in. He reminds you of the character Columbo, the bumbling detective from a murder mystery show that your mother enjoyed watching when you were growing up.
The man walks up to the opposite chair, pulling it out before taking a seat, “my name is Clive R. O’Brian and I imagine you have a lot of questions for me.”
Part 7
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georgiapeach30513 · 11 months
Text
Your Mark on Me, Part 8
Summary: Steve would pay for what he did.
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  dark!, explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentioned forced marking, teasing, ab riding, implied cheating, oral sex, squirting, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.6K
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Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
*Steve edit by @nixakimbo
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“I own him,” you whisper as you lay his phone back down. Beginning to pace around the bedroom as your hunger starts to invade your thoughts. Wishing that the noise of your loud stomach would shut up so you could think. This deserved all your attention.
“I own him,” that didn’t even make sense. Between your stomach and your throbbing neck everything was overwhelming. What did owning him even mean? Now that Shy had brought it up, you knew that Steve could get in this bedroom if he wanted to. He didn’t.
Not only did he not bust into the bedroom to bring you to your knees, he was asleep. Had moved a sofa chair in front of the bedroom door, and was waiting. How did Steve own you? He owned your every sick sexual desires. Clearly he owned your allegiance. You didn’t even hesitate when Shy asked you about the tattoo.
You didn’t even get a chance to realize what was happening, and that man was piercing your skin with a needle. Wincing, you walk into the bathroom to look at the mess of your neck. It wasn’t ugly. It was just a bit grotesque from the rawness. It needed to be cleaned. Covered. Something to help it not get infected.
How did Steve make you weak? He was who he was. He exuded this raw sex appeal. He was nasty, but there was a moment. For a few hours it felt sweet. He could deny it if he wanted to, but you felt it. Steve was too hard, so when those soft moments of just you and him happen, you take note of them. Steve was scared of his feelings.
Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply. It was crazy. It was going to possibly be dangerous, but you knew what you needed to do. Centering yourself, and giving yourself a minor pep talk, you walk into his giant closet. Your fingers run over his perfectly organized shirts, until you find just the right one.
Pulling it off the hanger, you remove all your clothes, before undoing the buttons, and adding on Steve’s shirt. Looking in the mirror, you undo a few more buttons before nervously walking towards the bedroom door. This was either going to be easy, or Steve was going to show you who was boss.
Gulping, you creak the door open, but he remains asleep. Good. Maybe you can get some food in before having to deal with him. A hungry self doesn’t make for one in control. Stepping past him, you just know he’s going to reach out and grab you, but he doesn’t. You can hear his deep breathing in his sleep, and almost — almost want to give him a tender kiss, but you were going to make him pay in the best way you could think of. You did own him now.
Grabbing out the bread, and a few things from the fridge, you lay out two plates and begin to make you both a sandwich. Had made it into the kitchen, so didn’t bother to be quiet. Your eyes flit up, watching the door for his entrance because you know it’s coming. Getting almost finished with the sandwiches, you look up to see him leaning against the door, and you look away. You aren’t going to be tricked by his sexual prowess. And that was hot.
Didn’t need to look into his eyes to see if they were heavy with lust. You wanted to make your sandwich, “Dovey, I’m sorry,” he whispers as he walks further into the kitchen. You don’t respond, just take a bite of a strawberry. “You ignoring me?”
“What are you sorry for, Steven?” You ask, taking another bite of the strawberry. His crystal blue eyes dart to your neck, but you want him to say it. “Was it because you made me watch you fuck me with your gun?” His stomach rumbles as a growl moves up his throat.
“Oh, no, you don’t get to tell me what language I can use. What you can tell me is why you’re sorry. Here,” you slide the plate across the bar to him. Complete with his sandwich, chips, and strawberries. Reaching into the fridge you pull out two beers. Sliding one over to Steve.
His eyes watch you as you open it, and take a drink. Placing it on the bar before he reaches over, and slides it to him, “Steve!”
“No drinking.”
“No marking me permanently.”
“I already did that,” you grit your teeth, glaring at him. “I said that I was sorry.”
“You don’t sound fucking sorry. And don’t you dare tell me how to speak. You made me get your goddamn mark on my neck. I can’t hide this, Steve.”
“I’ll get it removed,” he leans over his sandwich, taking a bite of it, while you try not to explode on him.
“That’s beside the point. You got me good and vulnerable. Begging for you to fuck me, and you held me down while some man I’ve never met shoved a needle in me. You didn’t care that I was screaming, crying, and begging you to stop. You just wanted to have a mark that claims me as yours. And you want to know the fucked up part about it?”
He doesn’t look up at you, just stares at his plate. Slamming your hands on the counter, your voice rises in pitch, “Look at me!” His icy stare meets your own. His eyes are glossy with tears, and you don’t even care. “I would have done it if you asked. I would have put this ugly mark anywhere. But you didn’t ask. You…you made me.”
“Dove, I’m sorry.”
“Are you? Do you realize the fucked up shit you have put me through? And I do it every fucking time. I take whatever you give me like a good little girl, and you just push further. And I’m tired of receiving nothing in return,” he sits up straighter. His eyes comb over every inch of your body. Finally realizing what you have on, and you rip open the shirt, exposing your fully nude body to him.
“You want me to fuck you now?”
“I want you to fucking suffer. I want you to stare at what I am not allowing you to touch. I won’t be the one begging anymore, Steve. You like these tits, and sucking on them? You like my tight little virgin pussy?” Your hands run over your body, cupping your tits, before drifting down your front. Spreading your pussy lips apart, your finger runs through your slick. Pulling it up for Steve to see how wet you became by your own strength. Loving as his eyes darken, but still he doesn't attempt to destroy you like before. There are no snide remarks.
Walking towards him, you press your finger soaked in your juices into his mouth, “Clean it off,” his response is to suck on your fingers like a baby suckling on its mother’s breast before you pull them out of him, and walk into the bedroom. Leaving him waiting and figuring out what just happened.
He didn’t touch you. He didn’t push you to do anything else. He allowed you to talk to him like that. Pulling his shirt back around you, you hiss when the collar touches your fresh ink. Just in time for Steve to walk in carrying a container.
“I’m just here to clean up your tattoo. Sit on the bed, please,” you weren’t in the mood to argue, and you sit down. Staring up at him owlishly as he cleans the surface. “I’ve had enough of these to know how to care for them. Ehh, he went too deep,” flinching away from him, he clicks his tongue. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not being more gentle with the cleaning,” tearing a piece of clear tape, he presses it up against your skin. “That’ll keep it from getting any bacteria in it,” he kneels before you. Spreading your legs, and you try to resist, “Stop. I don’t…” even though he settles between your spread thighs, instead of being sexual, he lays his head in your lap. “Dovey, I am sorry. Do you forgive me?”
Your hand pets through his hair as his beard tickles your bare skin. You didn’t hate him. But you still wanted him to suffer. “I forgive you,” his hand starts to slide up your thigh, but you smack it, causing him to lift up to stare at you, “But you’re going to have to earn my trust. I don’t let people fuck me if I don’t trust them. Not with their fingers, their tongue, their gun, knife, or their cock. You can sleep in here, but I’m going to be naked, and you’re going to have to earn my trust again. And then, you can have my virgin pussy.”
“How do I earn your trust?” Dammit. He had this pout that was completely irresistible to you. The way his blue eyes shined up at you. He was listening. You did own him.
“When you love me,” pushing him completely off your lap, you crawl in under the covers, and hold open his side for him to join you. “Get in the bed, Steve,” exhaling slowly, he removes all his clothes, letting them fall into the floor.
Just as his knees hit the mattress, you yawn, “Your dirty clothes belong in the hamper,” without making a comment, he walks back to his shirt and pants. Picking them up, he tosses them into the hamper. With just his boxers on, he crawls in behind you, but doesn’t touch you. Waiting on your permission.
“I’m not going to bite.”
“I didn’t know if I was allowed to touch you.”
“You can touch me. You just don’t get to have me,” the tables had switched. You owned him. And he would suffer. He would realize how frustrating teasing could be. His arm reaches around you, and he pulls you tight against his body.
“Are you serious?” You whine as his hard cock presses against your ass. He is throbbing. Aching at your touch. “Down boy.”
“That’s cruel.”
“Yeah, well, you tattooed me,” and he couldn’t argue that. On this side, he could see the dark curves of his mark. His shield. His little bird. His Dove. All he had to do now was to learn to love, and he could have you fully. But he isn’t sure he could do that. And then he had to question if it was worth it. Was a piece of ass worth going against everything? He’d just have to wait and see.
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The moment he takes his arm from around you to flip to the other side, you feel it. Huffing, and ready to pout when you sit up. Steve is beautiful in his way. Kept his face clean of any tattoos. While his body showed the scars of his career, and the hard lines of his life etched into his skin. You had wanted to ask him about specific tattoos, but he rarely afforded you that time.
But now that you have the chance to be irritated that he isn’t touching you, you look over his hard body. He covered it with the tattoos to make himself seem more menacing. The ink was acting as his shield, you just knew it.
Your neck is sore, and your body was vibrating with a need to have him, but you also needed to punish him for his ridiculous behavior. He was going to regret the day that he put that on your neck. And it was so visible. It would serve as a reminder of how you might have been burnt, but you were going to rise up out of the ashes, and own him.
There were ways for you to get off, while he had to suffer. He yawns, placing his hands behind his head. So peaceful, and he was going to wake up with you grinding on his stomach, or at the very least, he was going to fuck you back into submission.
Throwing your leg over his body, you start to settle over him. Getting a low sleepy hum from Steve before your core presses on his stomach. Your hips roll over him, and you moan at the feeling. It wasn’t Steve’s hard demanding touch, but this feels amazing. Is this a form of marking your territory? You aren’t sure, but it feels fantastic.
His eyes flutter open, and his hands drift up your thighs, landing on your hips. “Dovey, what are you doing?”
“I was horny,” his brow cocks up as he watches you. Marveling over how well you are moving.
“You can have me. I wouldn’t advise taking my cock when you’re on top, but I’ll let you be the boss.”
“No.”
“No?” His grip tightens on your hip, but you pay him no mind.
“No. I told you that you were going to suffer. You’re not getting me, Stevie. This — it’s all you get. Until I say you can touch me,” his jaw clenches as you move over him. You had him. He wanted you more than ever now.
“You like the way my wet little cunt feels on you?” You give him a little smirk, and he tries to glare at you, but instead whimpers. “I’m giving you a gift in feeling me, Captain. You feel how dripping wet I am just riding your abs?”
“Little bird, I feel your clit throbbing on me. I smell your arousal, and I can see the lust in your eyes. I can make you feel so much better if you only…”
“You tattooed my neck. Put your mark on me for everyone to see. You can — mmm,” you sigh as you start to grind harder. “You can — fuck,” your breathing picks up as your sleepy self starts to feel the ultimate high. “Yeah! Yeah!”
Normally you aren’t quite this vocal, but seeing Steve squirm underneath you as you refuse to give him what he wanted makes it worth it. “Oh fuck, Captain!” You collapse on his chest, your dainty little fingers starting to rub up and down his arms.
“That’s all you got, Dove?”
“That’s all I want right now. It’s very late.”
“I could fuck you to sleep,” sitting up, you shimmy your shoulders, watching Steve stare hungrily at your body. He was starting to beg. “I could have your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, while your eyes start to close in pleasure.”
“No, thank you,” just as quickly as you crawled on top of Steve, you remove your leg, but cuddle into him. “Oh, what are you going to do about your little problem?”
“My hard cock is not little. I’ll let you…”
“No,” you yawn, smacking your lips, and hug more onto him. “I’m tired. Goodnight, Captain.”
You were becoming a little bitchy brat. Steve didn’t know how to feel about that. Didn’t know why he was allowing you to control his emotions. He could go to the club and find a line of women who would spread their legs out for him. Women that would crawl on the floor as they knelt in front of him, ready to suck his cock.
And yet, here you were, looking all sweet and cute, but you had an evilness. It was something Steve noticed early on. It was attractive to him. He craved it, and you. He’d have you. He’ll play along for now. But only for now.
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“Where’s Bucky?” Steve looks up from his desk, glaring at some man in the doorway. “Never mind. Fuck,” his hand was starting to get tired of all the stroking he had been doing. He couldn’t go home without you walking around in nothing but one of his shirts. Just enough buttons undone to show him what will be his, but not enough to see much. And every night, you slept completely naked.
You hadn’t so much as let him put his fingers in you, or taste you. You were holding out in a big way, and it was getting frustrating. “I need the utmost discretion,” he tells him. Had he been in a different mindset, he would never ask a newbie for that type of responsibility. “Bring me a few of the dancers. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” he nods his head as he runs to the main floor. Steve settles back in his chair. Getting his cock sucked is just what he needed. Whoever he brought was never going to be you, and you would be none the wiser. It wouldn’t hurt anyone.
A brunette and a redhead too scantily clad are brought into the room, and he’s already annoyed. They didn’t have your sweet innocent look to their eyes. Realizing where they are they get excited knowing that they would be handsomely compensated for their time. He snaps his finger, and points to the floor, and neither hesitate dropping to their knees.
Wiggling his finger, they both crawl towards him with the prowess of a woman who knew what she was doing. They weren’t you, and he’d never make you crawl on the floor. Collaring you is something he has considered. These two would never get that opportunity.
He leans back even further, letting the two of their hands roam up his legs as they palm him over his jeans. He wasn’t even hard. He has to lean his head back with his eyes closed envisioning you. Even then, it didn’t feel the same.
You turn back to look at Sam who nods his head forward. Wrapping the trench coat tighter around your body, you realize this had to be the most ridiculous idea. You didn’t want your first time to be at this disgusting club. You deserve something sweeter than this.
“We’re almost there, Dove. Same room you came to that first night,” his words cut off shortly as two stupid girls walk out of the room. Looking at you before giggling to themselves.
“Maybe she can help him out,” one says under her breath, and your pulse is so hard it makes the noise completely stop. You were an idiot to believe holding out on Steve was going to do anything but make him stray.
You sling the door wide open, and glare at Steve. He didn’t even argue or lie about what trash just walked out of his office. “Sam, close the door,” Sam nods, and you’re too baffled to think of a response. “Dove.”
“Don’t fucking call me that, you asshole.”
“I’m the asshole here?” His voice raises, matching your own. Before it would have terrified you, but now you see Steve for the coward that he is.
“Yes! You…what was that?”
“Two women who came in here to suck my cock.”
Not a stutter. Not even a lie. The fucking truth, and you hate him. Picking up the closest thing you can get your hand on, you throw it towards him. “What the fuck?”
“I hate you, Steve Rogers!”
“You hate me? You hate me so much you fucking grind yourself on my stomach every goddamn night? You leave me with the worst case of blue balls because you’re trying to prove a point, huh? Prove that you think you can control me. No one controls Steve Rogers, baby,” his voice cracks at the end. A tiny show of emotion that neither of you thought he had.
Your body trembles with the rage that you have locked up inside of you. Letting out a gut wrenching scream. “Then let me go! You don’t own me! I own you!”
“The hell you do,” he stares at you with his eyes wide. “I can have whatever fucking piece of ass I want.”
“Except mine. Don’t call me,” he stands up from his chair, his jeans still zipped up, and completely clean. But all you see is red. “Don’t follow me. Don’t watch me. I’m not doing this. You want whatever piece of ass you can have. Have them. Have every last fucking one of them, Steve, because you’re not getting mine,” spinning on your heels, you go to stomp out of his office, but his thick arms wrap around you.
“Let me go! Don’t touch me! Steve!” You growl out, trying to slap him off you. “Don’t touch me!”
“You’re not leaving me. You’re stuck…”
“No, I’m not! I’d rather die than be with you. Let me go! Get off! Get! Off!”
“Don’t leave me,” his voice squeaks out. Hiding his face in your neck, he kisses his mark, holding you even tighter. “Dovey, don’t leave me, baby, please.”
“I’m not going to have some girls mouth fucking what is mine!”
“They didn’t.”
“Yes, the fuck they did!”
“They didn’t even touch me. Or unzip me. I couldn't’ get hard because they’re not you. Dovey, please, stop fighting me. Just listen,” you don’t want to listen. It was always games with him. He was just now trying to convince you otherwise, and you didn’t want to hear a word of it.
“Can we go home?”
“No,” you respond quickly. “Let me go, and I’ll listen.”
“I’ll let you go, if you promise not to leave, and you take off the jacket.”
“Promise,” you croak out, and he drops his arms. Turning to look at him, you open the trench coat wide, and he bites his tongue at the sexy lingerie you’re wearing. Wishing he wouldn’t have asked that question. It isn’t overtly sexy. There’s still a sweetness to it that is entirely you.
“Why were you coming here?”
“I was going to give you a taste. Not sex, but now, I’m not. Steve, I can’t do this with you. I don’t want to be at home waiting on you and worrying about what whore you’re going to have bobbing on your dick. I am it. If you are it for me, I am the only woman you touch, and the only woman that touches you. That…I won’t have surprises like that. Had I not come here, I wouldn’t have known that.”
“There’s nothing to know. They came, and I sent them away because I couldn’t do it. My mind is wrapped up in thoughts of you, and it fucking pisses me off. I can’t even focus on what I need to fucking do because all I can see is you curled into me while you make that cute adorable noise in your sleep that you swear isn’t snoring. And it’s not fair.”
“This isn’t fair, Steve. You…don’t own me. I own you,” he shakes his head no, walking over to the couch, where he sits down. Rubbing along his thigh, and inviting you to sit on him. You didn’t want to sit where they touched. Instead you sit on the opposite side, keeping your legs spread for him to gaze upon.
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about. I’m Steve Rogers, and I’m the one that owns people.”
“What’s on your mind right now?” Your mouth turns into a grin as your hand starts to drift in between your legs. Rubbing over your covered core as you watch him. “What have you been thinking about all day?”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“About how you taste. How I know where that special spot inside of you is, and how I can make your pussy cry and crave for more. About how the first time my cock enters into you, you’re going to cry these beautiful tears, and how that moment is mine. I think about how I wish you would straddle my face instead of my stomach. About how I want you to suck my cock while I feast on your cunt. I think about….”
“That’s all I am? Just a sex doll?” You move aside your panties, letting him see how drenched you are before plunging two fingers into you.
“No, you’re not. I also think about how sweet you look when you’re trying to be sexy,” rolling your eyes, you pull your fingers out, and close your legs. “Your inexperience is sexy. I don’t need you to pretend you’re something you’re not. Because they all want to be you.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you have me,” you scoff, wrapping your arms around your chest. “You get to go to a cabin that no one gets to go to. You get to have me all night, and into the morning.”
“And no one gets your love, hmm?” His mouth closes quickly, and you shake your head with annoyance. “I don’t want just your body. I want you.”
“I don’t have that to give. You can settle for my protection and loyalty.”
“Is that the best you have to offer?” He nods his head slowly one time, while you lick your lips. That was the best you were going to get. His loyalty and with that came his protection. “You have nothing left to say to me?”
“What do you want to hear?”
“You know exactly what I want to hear. You say it, and we can start back fresh. I don’t mind you being a mean asshole, but when I say no, I mean it. When I am begging you not to do something, it doesn’t mean that you keep going. I want my safe word to be pineapple, and if I tap your mark it means I’ve had enough,” you had a lot of time to think, and prepare how you wanted your relationship to proceed.
“I will be yours, but you will be mine. If Sam thinks you’re pushing things too far, listen to him. Now, tell me.”
Steve pops his neck, and he twists himself on the couch. Getting to his knees, he crawls towards you. Pulling apart your tights, and his body positions himself in between you. His broad shoulders keep you spread, “Steve!”
“You own me,” Steve’s hands rip apart your panties, and he lays on his stomach in one motion. His mouth finds your weeping cunt, and he devours you. His tongue lapping up your honey like a man starved. Deprived of any nourishment as if between your thighs was the promised land.
Leaning your head back on the couch you revel in his magic tongue. You had been punishing yourself as well because this was heavenly. Even more so was the fact that while Steve couldn’t love you, you owned him. He was yours. He admitted it to you, but finally to himself.
He doesn’t even come up for air when he plants his hands on your breasts. His meaty fingers tweak your nipples as he slurps up your arousal. Your orgasm comes too fast, and you try to close your legs, but he pushes them further apart. His lips circle around your clit and he suckles on the sensitive bean. “Steve!”
He isn’t going to stop. Not until he gets what he really wants. To be covered in your essence. Staring up at you over your mound as your body writhes in pleasure. “Captain!” There is a good girl. He needed to hear you shout that as his hips hunch into the couch. He wouldn’t get the divine gratification of feeling your wet skin on him, but dammit, you were a goddess.
This moment you are letting the pleasure override every other sense as your hips buck into him. Quivering and barely coherent. Your fingers weave into his hair, and your nails scratch at the surface. He knows you're close. Knows that you’re about to give him his favorite treat, directly into his greedy mouth.
“Captain, oh my god!” He tastes the sweet nectar as it messily drips down his chin, and into his mouth. You are a messy little thing, and you are his. Your body goes slack as he looks up at you. Peeking at him through heavy lidded as. “Say it again.”
“You own me.”
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weirdkpopgirl · 7 months
Text
Embrace | Haechan Imagine #8
Title: Embrace
Genre: Fluff, slight angst
Warnings: vague mentions of reader struggling with insomnia
Word Count: 616
Author's Note: This story was inspired by my bad habit of not going to sleep, even when I'm tired lol. It's not like I do it on purpose, but my mind just cries out for a distraction sometimes. I don't know how to explain it. Anyway if any of you can relate to this, I hope this story can give you some comfort ^ ^
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
In the quiet space of your apartment, you were sprawled out on the couch as your thumb absentmindedly scrolled through the world of social media. Every so often, your eyes subconsciously flickered to the time on the left corner of the screen, reminding you that one a.m. was now closely bordering two.
The back of your mind was screaming at you to go to sleep, thinking of all the things you were supposed to do the following day. Yet, the apprehension of not being able to fall asleep made you hesitate. The fear wasn’t large, but enough to keep you trapped in the scrolling abyss, a dance between fatigue and distraction.
Eventually, you heard the soft echoes of your boyfriend’s slippers padding against the wooden floor, drawing him closer to where you were stationed. Rubbing his eyes, he approached you with a slight frown on his lips. 
“Baby, it’s late. Why are you still up?” Haechan murmured with a touch of concern in his voice. 
Although he was accustomed to being awake in the odd hours due to his work, seeing you deviate from a regular sleep schedule puzzled him.
You glanced up at him with weary eyes. “Just can’t seem to quiet my mind,” you muttered with a small shrug.
Haechan sighed as he witnessed you fight back a yawn. He moved to sit beside you for a moment and gently removed your phone from your hands and set it down on the coffee table.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said, taking your hand in his. “Maybe I can help you relax.”
Reluctantly, you gave in and allowed him to guide you to the bedroom. The subtle glow of the lamp on your nightstand casted a gentle ambiance in the room. Once you were tucked under the soft comforter, Haechan settled down beside you.
“Close your eyes, baby,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you in a comfortable position. 
His lips brushed against your temple, sending a tingling shock down your spine. The warmth of his touch prompted you to snuggle closer, your head finding the perfect spot on his chest. The echoes of his steady heartbeat were calming and the warmth of his embrace gradually melted away any troublesome thoughts that lingered within you.
You let out a heavy exhale before mumbling, “You really have a way of making everything feel okay.”
Haechan chuckled and brushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. The corners of his lips curled into a small smirk.
“Of course, you just happen to have the most caring, loving, and devastatingly handsome boyfriend,” he said, flashing you a teasing smile.
You knew he was only joking. But as his words sank in through your mind, you recognized the truth in them. The longer you were with Haechan, the more you realized that you didn’t know what you’d do without him in your life.
Instinctively, your hand drifted to cradle his face, lightly tracing over the moles adorning his cheek. Gazing into his eyes, a sense of vulnerability washed over you.
“You’re right. I do,” you quietly admitted.
Caught off guard by your serious response, Haechan’s heart ached at your simple words. This overwhelming surge of deep love and affection he had for you hit him all at once. Without holding back, he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You stayed like this for a while, before breaking away with a smile. The two of you eventually succumbed to sleep, peacefully nestled in each other’s embrace.
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year
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The Monarch
Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader (Platonic)
Word Count: 3543
Summary: You’re staying on the mothership with who you thought was your lover. It was the mating season. Before your hunter goes off, he tells you that. You’re left heart broken and in shock. When he doesn’t return in a reasonable time, you leave the quarters and wander the ship. You find yourself at a private area. Out comes her.
Author Note: I told myself I would never make a pink Yautja (just my own preferences) but here I am, making another mommy Yautja to love on.
Masterlist
Ao3
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17
“You’re nothing but a burden.” World shattering words. Gut wrenching words. Words that leave you devastated. No ground to stand on. Nothing to stable yourself.
Your mate, your everything, the person you dropped everything for to be with. He… he, god. No. He couldn’t do this. This wasn’t real! You had to be dreaming. Why would he say that to you? What led to this moment to be dropped nothing more than a pack of potatoes? You were too overwhelmed to think properly. To show any emotion besides a dropped jaw and just to stare into harden eyes. Eyes that used to soften when they found your form.
There was nothing soft or gentle about your giant. No. All of it was gone. Gone from existence.
“Why?”
It’s all that you could muster in the fog clouding your thoughts. Your hands shook at your side, trembling with uncontrollable anxiety. Blood rushed in your ears, the only sound you hear clearly. You just stared into his eyes, not a clear thought between your eyes.
He scoffed, mandibles pulled tight to show his disgust. “You are ooman. You not understand Yautja way. Breeding season, you are of no use to me.”
When you thought it couldn’t get worse, the universe willingly showed how wrong you are. How could a shattered heart break even more? You stumbled a couple steps away from him to hold onto the back of a couch behind me. Even that barely gave you any stability in this moment.
“But-but we, you, how….” All you wanted to do was break down and sob and do everything in your power to keep him. What did he except from you now? What were the next steps to proceed?
The now unfamiliar Yautja kept his head high with pride and arms firmly crossed  over a chest you were laying on last night. Last night. Everything was fine last night. Just any normal night. Nothing to show the next morning your mate would abandon you.
He grunted before turning around, putting his back to you and walking away. His claws lightly clicking against the metal floors. Your vision went blurry as he left, unfocused. Mind blank as you tried to make sense of the situation. Then, you fell to your knees with a hearty sob. One that shook you to your very core. You released everything.
For hours, you leaned all your weight against the back of the couch and cried your eyes out. Even after your voice grew hoarse and hurt, you didn’t stop. Now, what were you going to do? Here you were, stuck on an alien ship, with no way back to earth. Your mate abandoned you for… for others. It’s not like you ask or buy a ticket home. With no Yautja to protect you now, you were fresh meat to the younglings or freshly blooded to screw with you. You weren’t going to last a week before someone went too far.
Your pride didn’t allow you to even think about asking your… your ex mate about helping you home. He already just abandoned you without a second thought. Why the change? Why had it changed? You roughly wiped at the tears rolling down you sticky, salty cheeks. More came to wet the skin there. It was pointless until your emotions finally run dry.
A hopeful, hopeless thought kept you there for an unknown amount of time. Maybe he would come to his senses and come back. Anything to give you an ounce of hope this was all a dream, a nightmare. But he didn’t come back in a reasonable amount of time. That made your chest ache somehow more.
That’s when you pulled yourself up by your pants, took a deep breath, and ventured out. Since, your mate decided to up and leave you out of nowhere, there was an unpredictable aura to what he might do to you if he returned and found you. There was nothing in the honor code from truly stopping him from killing you. You were prey. A small part of you didn’t want to believe it but now, you were thrust upon the world of predators as meek prey. Now, you had to survive all by yourself. Out in a world that was fully against you. Just that thought made you want to break down crying again.
The predators that you scuttled past could smell your sorrow, a nasty smell. Many of them already had a distain for the fact you were on the ship. None of this new to you. It was a small uproar at first. But your mate, oh your mate, he defended you and did what had to be done for your sake. Which was claim you as a pet so no one could touch or cause any sort of harm to you.
That’s why this whole change in behavior didn’t make sense.
Your feet carried you as your mind just wandered to all spectrums of the situation. All you were trying to do was reel in some sort of survival plan for the new future. All you had to was survive. Could you do that? Was it possible? You took a shuttering breath and dipped down an empty hall. As you did this, you felt the piercing eyes of predators slowly leaving your trembling frame. The weight finally being lifted off of your shoulders.
From there, you just lumbered along. Not in any rush or hurry. Not paying much attention to the surrounding area. Not caring about what could happen.
One of the wall’s of the hall turned to glass, revealing the vast void of empty space. Stars in distant galaxies sparkled, shining bright like diamonds. There were no nearby planets that you could make out. The sight made you shiver harshly. Here you were, nothing more than a bundle of atoms in a galaxy that didn’t give a shit about you. You were going to die.
So be it. You sat down, back to the wall and gazed out to the galaxy. Despite being dangerous and unforgiving, it was stunning. The stars and colors that the galaxy held took your breath away. Part of the reason you said yes to joining your mate and leaving your planet behind. Look where that got you know. At lease before you die, you can say you’re the only human to go this deep into space. Let alone see this far into the universe. You couldn’t help the shy smile on your lips at the thought.
As you sat there, you smacked your lips together and realized how thirsty you were. All the crying has made you dehydrated. Could you even make it out of the mess hall alive without him? Would you accidentally run into him? If you did, what would h-
A shadow casted over your tiny frame. Fear entered your body like freezing water. Your breath got caught as you didn’t know what to do. Should you dare to look, risk the wrath of a stranger, see the person possible for murdering you? Or just let them have their way and go?
Massive, dark green and mixes of browns, feet could be seen at the edge of your vision. Double shit. You were dead. The feet shifted then you felt a heavy weight settle down next to you. A deep, gruttle groan vibrating the air. All you did was pin your eyes on the ground and refused to move. Or wish death upon yourself.
The new form leaned back against the wall, same as you. Their shadow still blocked out some of the light on you, even sitting next to you.
Finally, you peeked look and felt like you were to shit yourself. Her eyes were already on you, as if she was waiting for you to sneak a glance. Her head wasn’t fully facing you, just looking out the corner of her eyes. You swore you saw an upper mandible quirk up once the two of you eyes met. A massive female was sat comfortably next to you, as if it was completely normal. She was adorn us beautifully created and wrapped clothing and jewelry. You immediately recognized her.
How could you not? A figure that was incredibly posing for just her title. But it wasn’t just that had you trembling in terror. We’ar-ow. Monarch of this mothership. Monarch. Who was sitting next to you without batting an eye about your presence. At this point, you swore there was beads of sweat rolling down your face.
We’ar-ow peacefully rested, eyes now gazing out into the vast universe her kind explores and hunts through. Though, she showed no interest either in a good or bad way, you scrambled to your feet. A swift, unsteady pace started to put as much di- “Wait.” The voice of battle worn yet gentle leader commanded. Despite not being one of her kind, all of your muscles froze. Nothing would listen to the instinct to dash away to somewhere safer.
There was soft tink sound of her metal jewelry behind you. Nothing major nor did a creeping feeling of dread grow. Which told you she hadn’t gotten up to chase you. Maybe she turned her head? Oh, you felt the stare of a predator now.
Claws tapped against metal. “Sit,” We’ar-ow commanded with a voice that held no room for arguing. It sounded like she didn’t even need to try. Like the tone was built in, intergraded since she was a child. Everything atom in your body shuttered; and gave in. You timidly turned back around and found her patting the spot you were just in with a massive hand. Hands that could easily tear your head from your shoulders without much hassle.
Your lungs wheezed quietly as you timidly stepped back over to her, giving yourself an extra foot. Then, you slowly lowered yourself onto the ground.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed how much she towered over you. Not reaching her midriff in this state, probably worse when standing next to each other. Why does she want you here? Your mind was running a thousand miles per minute trying to come up with a reason on why. But nothing logical came to mind, just thoughts of her luring you in to kill you. Even that doesn’t make much sense, yet here you are.
The massive female drew her hand back into her lap and stilled. From what you could feel – not daring to look, she was focused on what was outside the window. You could hear your heart pounding wildly in your ear. The only sound you could hear as you sat tense and rigid. A terrified animal resting next to a predator.
Through the overwhelming sound of blood pumping, you heard that tale tell sign of extra air. “You are that pet I’ve heard much about.” A flare of anger surged through you before a cold dose of water splashed it out. Calm, it’s okay.
Despite her speaking directly at you, you didn’t dare to respond, let alone look at her. “You know it is dangerous to be without your master, correct?” Shit, a question. Nervous of doing something wrong, I just dipped my head. Your mate had warned about going anywhere without him on the first day here. Being a pet gave you protection but some Yautjas don’t believe that humans deserve to be in the presence of them.
She hummed, voice deep and grumbly. “You reek of sorrow.” More of a statement than a question. Right, their kind have a great sense of smell. That meant she could smell everything. Once more, you didn’t say or do anything, afraid of angering her.
Chuckling, guttural in sound. We’ar-ow presence grew incredibly close, suddenly. Her warmth radiating off of her to soak into your skin. You couldn’t help but flinch. An arm raising to cover your head as if that would do a thing against her. “You are pet. I cannot harm you,” she reminded you like that would help your situation.
Almost, you scoffed and were close to opening your mouth to a make remark. One that would cost you your life. Instead, you held your tongue and waited for her to lose interest in you.
“Oomans are strange creatures. So diverse in personality and culture. Why do you k-ri? Why do you sorrow?” Those are questions that required words. Words you didn’t want to speak. Why was she so interested in you? We’ar-ow is an old monarch. She’s had to seen hundreds of humans before. So this whole interaction confused you.
A lump in your throat prevented any sounds from being voiced. Probably for the better.
There was a heavy huff next to you. “I asked you a question. Answer.” Oh, you were so screwed, incredibly fucked. She didn’t even have to pull the title card to have you even more petrified.
You finally were able to swallow the major part of the lump down and nervously cleared your throat. “N-no reason,” is all you can get out. Not daring to spill your trouble to the monarch of this mothership and clan.
She growled at your lie but didn’t move. “I hear your lie,” like a mother scolding their child. Nothing more needed to be said to know that was the wrong route. You flinched by curling into a ball and protecting your head with a terrified yelp. Words that could sound like ‘sorry’ could barely be made out behind your arms and legs. “Speak the truth. I’m curious what had upset a pet to run idiotically through my ship without their master.”
Nothing could move you from your ball. You swallowed once more. “I-I,” you started, immediately stumbling over your words. We’ar-or growled lowly. If it wasn’t for the earlier command earlier, you would’ve been up and out quicker than she could blink. You squeaked and curled up tighter.
“Speak clearly and firm. You make yourself prey by acting like one,” she said, eyes boring into your skull. You didn’t need to see to know this.
You gave a timid nod and breathed in. Gaining a few drops of courage from her words, I straightened back but couldn’t find it in myself to look at her. “My-my master, he abandoned-“ your heart ached at the reminder of what he told you earlier- “me. Told me I was a burden then left.”
Her response was a deep hum before the silence engulfed us again. You didn’t know if that was better than hearing her talk. All you could hear was your heart pounding and the air circulating through the vents. You had to stop yourself from curling up again. Don’t act like prey. Was it better to act argonaut or to be prey surrounded by predators?
“Abandoned you say? Disgusting. He took you into his care, you are his responsibility. I warned him, to ensure this is what he wanted. Dishonorable to abandon you,” she spoke, voice hardened with disgust. Like, she cared about the situation. Did she? Why would she? You found it in yourself to turn your head and looked at her. Her eyes finding yours immediately. “Now, you’re a pet without a master…” Now, you flinched and bowed your head
Rough, textured fingers pinched your chin and lifted your head. We’ar-ow turned your head this and that way. Her piercing eyes studying you. She bummed while in thought before dipping her head for a second. “So be it. You will be my new pet. I’ll challenge that pathetic male just to ensure he cannot say I stole you. Even if he dared to accuse that to me, I would best in a match.” Your heart felt like it exploded in your chest. The monarch… Oh my god. She just-no-I huh?!
You find your voice. “Why?” Immediately, you tried to bow your head again. That was incredibly rude. But her hand simply kept it raised. “Sorry.”
We’ar-ow chuckled. She wasn’t angered or offended. Relief flooded your veins. Almost, you almost relaxed but kept vigilant. After your mate had broken your heart, you weren’t going to be so naïve anymore. The female Yautja leaned in, long tresses slipping over her shoulder. Her hot, moist breath fanning over your face. “Because, I’m the Monarch.” You shuttered. And she was right. She needed no reason to give for taking what she wants. Even if it lands her in a battle.
Her hand was still on your chin and keeping your face towards her. You desperately wanted to pull away, shy away, but she didn’t let you. It seemed like she wanted to make you squirm and sweat under her gaze. “And I take what I want.” That sounded everything besides arrogant. It was truth. Both of you knew it without a doubt.
Your throat bobbed with a nervous swallow. “Okay,” you whispered, barely above silence. One of her upper mandibles quirked up. Her eyes scanned up and down your body before a look of disgust falling over her features. Her free hand pinched at the fabric hanging off of your shoulders that made up your shirt. Clothing that your ex-mate had created for you.
“This will have to change. You reek of that male. No more,” she stated firmly. For once, you agreed with her. It would be a good change, possibly for the better. Though, the pet thing will never sit right with you, you’ll have to work with it.
“And some jewelry. I will not have my pet look so meek or low status. You are pet of Tourk’on Clan’s Monarch. Keep your chin level and be proud of who owns you,” We’ar-ow offered for advice. You timidly looked into her eyes and held the longest eye contact before. It earned you a chuff and a smirk. “Good pet.” Praise that sent your heart fluttering. This time, in a good way.
With the hand not holding onto your chin, she ran a deadly claw down your temple, over the crest of your cheek bone, and down to your jawline before falling over. “You are mine now. I won’t abandon you like that scum male.” Fuck, that caused something deep inside of you to ignite. Yet, you kept your guard up. Your trust had been broken, harshly and without care less than two hours ago. You still ached. You still hurt. But, a small part of you desperately wanted to have what you had with your ex-mate again. It would be difficult to move on after everything that has happened. You could do it though. You have made it this far in a universe destined to kill you.
Then, a yawn broke the scene. You ensured your teeth were kept covered, something you were taught. We’ar-ow slightly pulled back before laughing and shaking her massive head. Today has worn you down to the bone. “Tired, my pet? Already?” You believed yourself to be crazy to think you heard a teasing tone in her voice.
Before you had a chance to do or say anything, two sturdy, thickly corded arms slipped underneath your form. You were simply lifted to be curled against a chest. By god’s grace. You felt like you were dead or dreaming because she didn’t just pick you. God, did she? You looked down. It was her arms holding you to her body. The Monarch was carrying you. Carrying you. She was holding you in her grasp. Her powerful, lethal legs started a path to the designation in her mind. Wherever that might be.
Through the halls of a ship We’ar-ow ruled, the Monarch carried you like a sack of potatoes. All the Yautjas that crowded the halls either stared or did a double take. Many mandibles dropped. Almost an uproar of whispering between everyone sounded the moment the two of past. We’ar-ow didn’t even twitch a muscle in response. As if she was expecting this to happen.
After an elevator ride to the highest floor on the ship, one you’ve never could even dream to be on, she stepped into her room. Or what you believed as hers. We’ar-ow dismissed everything and head straight to a room off to the side. It was around twice the size of your ex-mate’s bedroom.
Off in one corner was an hugely oversized dog bed, more considered a normal bed in your eyes. A large bowl was set close by to said bed, filled with clear liquid. Toys and such, like cat or dog toys sat neatly on the mattress covered bed. Blankets and furs as well.
We’ar-ow didn’t let you have much time to take in the room from her arms and brought you over to the bed. You were placed down. It was heaven. Your body sunk into the fabric as it swaddled you. She stood above you at her full height, apposing and known as fatal. Her piercing eyes pinned on your form and nothing more. “I will let you sleep before retrieving you at a later time. I will change your old master to a duel and win you over.” If this was anyone else, it would be arrogant and boastful. This wasn’t just anyone. We’ar-ow has set out a plan of action she will proceed with.
No if, and, or but’s about it.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17
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“Got You”
Jey Uso x IndigenousFMC
8 chapters- 22k words
🚨It’s so smutty I’m so sorry - no one under 18 plz!
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🚨 second alarm, there is a triggering scene but it is an attempted assault that is interrupted - there is a note around it so it is easy to skip!
Just collecting all 4 parts into one loooong post. It’s unedited so I apologize for mistakes and timelines messiness
Summary: Rori Begay is Jey Uso’s nanny. Inappropriate feelings begin to brew between them over lockdown and they try to avoid it. Unfortunately the violence in Rori’s home life boils over and so do their feelings for each other when he comes to her rescue.
Chapter 1:
Aurora POV
“My Rori’s here!” Jason lunged from his father’s arms into mine as soon as I made it through the door of the unassuming but well kept blue house.
“Hey little dude!” I gladly received the three year old, doing my best to avoid touching Josh too much in doing so. Every time we so much as brushed hands it caused a rolling wave of butterflies and warmth. Not unpleasant but also not an appropriate thing to feel for someone who was technically my boss. And the last thing I needed in my life right now was to lose my job, especially over a stupid crush.
Due to the pandemic ramping up Josh was home from his job that normally demanded a lot of travel. Even though he wasn’t traveling he still had commitments and a job that required several hours of training daily in the gym on top of meetings and zoom calls. He’d explained the plan his company had until they could safely begin touring again, a plan that would see them staying here in Florida for several months to a year.
Long enough for me to save up enough to get out of my own place, even if my mother was demanding a high rent. I was glad I’d fibbed about just how much Josh was paying me weekly or she would have demanded even more.
“Swim! Swim! Wanna go swimming!” I juggled the excited toddler in my arms trying not to drop my day bag.
Coming to the rescue Josh grabbed the green backpack and smiled at me in a way that turned my insides to mush. “We gotta eat first little man.”
“Are you free today?” I hoped I didn’t sound as excited as I felt. At first I’d found it odd he still wanted me there even when he wasn’t going to be busy for the day but quickly started to look forward to spending time with both of them.
“Yeah, my meetings were cancelled. I was thinking I’d join y’all for swimming lessons and whatever else you got planned. If that’s cool with you.”
As if I was going to say no.
I looked at Jason with a grin. “Whaddya think? Want Daddy to hang out with us today?”
“Hang out with daddy AND Rori! Swim!”
“What about you?” It was hard not to read too much into his expression or the way his voice seemed to drop a little. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Oh, of course. He’s trying to be considerate of my feelings as a person and I’m drooling at the way his voice changes when he is speaking to another adult. I swallowed my embarrassment and put on a big grin. “Not at all, it’ll be great to hangout! Now how about some breakfast?”
There wasn’t much Jason loved more than swimming but one thing was for certain.
“PANCAKES!”
—-
Jey POV
It did things to me when she called me “Daddy”, even if it was in this context.
Maybe I could get Joe or Braun to hit me in the head next time we’re wrestling.
Really, really hard.
Well, maybe not Braun, I didn’t want to die after all.
I needed some sense knocked back into me around this girl though. I can’t keep my eyes off her and thought about her way too often. She’s only eighteen and I should not be feeling this way about my sons *nanny.* Watching her as she moved around the kitchen, letting little man help her with making breakfast it brought an excited sense of peace.
My eyes dutifully followed the sway of her curvy bottom as she sidestepped small feet with a laugh. I wanted to wind my hands into that waist length brunette hair while I devoured her pouty lips.
Wanted to see her pretty green eyes tear up with those lips wrapped around my dick.
I wanted a lot of things from Miss Aurora Begay.
Isolating was hard, I hadn’t had a chance to go out or hookup with a chick since New Year’s Eve. Maybe that was my problem. She was close, pretty and had a great laugh.
But the truth was I hadn’t wanted someone so bad in a long time. Jason’s mom had burned me pretty hard when she decided she didn’t want to be invested in his life, or mine.
You travel too much she’d said. Come to find out “you travel too much” really meant I’d rather be fucking other dudes in another country.
More power to her. We’d started out casual but when she fell pregnant I’d stepped up and even offered to marry her and let myself get invested. Not the best way to start but I was willing to give it a shot for him.
“How many?”
“Huh?”
Rori pulled me out of my thoughts with a light tough to my shoulder and a giggle. She smiled down at me. “I asked you how many pancakes would you like? I’m using the protein mix.”
Of course she’d ferreted out the healthiest pancakes for someone with my training regime. She was always doing thoughtful shit like that and I loved it. Loved that she would modify things for me, make me a plate or keep one warm for me in the oven when something ran longer than planned.
It was hard not to let all that spill.
She raised her eyebrows. “Josh?”
I’m so fucked.
“Uh, make it four.”
Thirty minutes later and I’m waiting for them the come downstairs. Jason appeared at the top of the steps first in his matching swimming trunks and shirt all decked out with tiger sharks. His favorite animal at the moment. He proudly held up his shark goggles. “Look daddy, I’m a shark!”
In a weird way I was grateful for the lockdown. I’d never been able to spend so much time with him and it made me happier than I’d ever been. “I see little man! Where’s Rori?”
“Coming, sorry!”
Chapter 2 -
Aurora POV
Josh stood at the bottom of the steps in nothing but black swimming trunks. My mouth went dry and heart pounded as I tried not to stare at him while Jason and I made our way downstairs hand in hand. It was tough though, his dark bronze skin and spiraling tattoos were mesmerizing.
He’d given me a cursory glance before looking away and even though I’m not terribly vain, it stung my pride a little. I should be ashamed that I picked the cheap and simple but pretty blue mesh halter and boy short set because I thought be would like it. As if he’d ever look at me the same way I do him.
Tucking the sadness away I padded out to the pool with Jason who was already fighting with his arm floats before he’d made it to the water. “Here let me help-“
The words were cut off by splash of water, my own shriek of surprise and Jason’s shriek of laughter. Josh had blown by us to canon ball into the water before surfacing with a challenging smirk.
It would be hard to ignore the heat pooling between my legs.
Well, until little man threw his arms up and demanded to be thrown in for a big splash that is. Happy to oblige and to cool off I scooped him up and we jumped in. What I’d planned as a swimming lesson turned into lots of laughing and splashing with Jason getting brave enough to paddle back and forth between us a few times.
After a while he was tired and become more preoccupied with making his pool toy shark eat his other action figures. Josh drifted over to where I stood in the shallow water while Jason played nearby on the step. “Hey.”
“Hey?”
“What happened here?” Gently he brought his fingers to a healing bruise on my arm. Anxiety twisted my stomach painfully. I had to come up with something, my mother had trained me to lie about this sort of thing.
“Oh, uh, I just, I just dropped something when I was reaching for a can on a shelf at home. Clumsy, just brought my arm up so it wouldn’t like hit me on the face or anything. Nothing, no worries.” I realized I was rambling when his brow furrowed and he narrowed his eyes.
Fuck. He didn’t need to know mom’s latest boyfriend was a real dick, even for her.
“A can huh?”
The truth was I hadn’t moved fast enough to get out of his way a couple days ago and so he grabbed me by the arm, hard enough to leave those prints, shook me and slung me across the room. Not the first time one of the men she’d brought home had done something similar but no one had ever really paid attention and my mom had threatened me with much worse if I ever told.
“Yeah, just a stupid accident.” I tried to smile reassuringly but could tell it wasn’t working. Josh opened his mouth but fortunately for me, little man chose then to pounce, throwing himself at us with abandon only a happy toddler could achieve.
“Make splashes Rori!”
“You sure did! How about we get dried off and go watch a movie?” I was grateful for the distraction. Hopefully he would let it go.
—-
Jey POV
Late that night I laid in bed scrolling through photos from the last few weeks, looking for clues and wracking my brain for an explanation. Aurora had never lied to me before and I should have her drug tested if she thought I bought that story about the can. I know what a bruise from someone gripping you too tightly looks like. Why was she being so evasive about it?
*Does she have a boyfriend? Some little shit who thinks he’s tough?*
An intense anger erupted in my chest at the thought of anyone putting their hands on her. In any way. Thinking about her kissing someone else, *fucking* someone else, made me physically sick.
I resolved to get the the bottom of it. Why weren’t her parents doing anything about it? Did they notice?
Wait. Does she live with them?
It dawned on me that I know next to nothing about her or her living situation. Most of our conversations revolve around Jason or the chores or how my day had been or what I wanted for dinner. I knew she was a college student and we’d chatted about a few times about things like music or movies or my job but never had she mentioned her family or friends or relationships at all, except one girl named Jamie. And all I knew about her was that they’d seen a movie together recently.
I’d snapped a few pictures today. Only one of just her but that was the one I settled on looking at. She stood mid thigh in the pool, her golden skin wet and the red of her messy bun stood out in the sunlight. The swimsuit wasn’t too revealing but I’d almost embarrassed myself. Seeing her coming down the steps it that simple but sexy outfit had me at half mast in no time, I’d had no choice but to hustle my ass into the cold pool or risk her noticing.
Looking at the picture now I had the same problem, my cock twitching to life at the thought of tasting her everywhere. Closing my eyes I dropped my phone and let myself pull my boxers down. Picturing her sweet smile I imagined she was there with me, straddling my waist, her walls clenched tightly around me.
Slowly I started stroking myself, imaginary Aurora’s movements were careful and shy and gentle, just like everything else about her. Her small hands braced against my chest, fingers digging in as her cheeks flushed with pleasure and she panted in need.
*”Daddy, please.”*
Increasing my pace I imagined taking control, clutching her hips and bracing myself with my ankles as I thrust up at a much more aggressive pace. My knees drew up and I clutched the sheet with my free hand as her cries filled my ears.
*”Harder Daddy, yes yes! I’m gonna cum!”*
I didn’t fight the groan that rose in my throat as I sped up even more. It was my fantasy and we would finish together.
“Fuck Rori, baby…” I bit my lip when I came, spilling hot ropes of cum onto my stomach as my hips bucked and twitched. For a few seconds I lay there panting.
I’d lost count of how many times I’d gotten off this exact same way now. I knew I should stop but it was becoming something of an obsession. It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’d developed a fixation, just not quite so focused in on a particular female before.
I hoped it would pass when the lockdowns lifted and I could go out again but deep inside I knew that wouldn’t be the case.
No, something about those big hazel eyes and loving personality had dug itself deep inside me. I swiped at the mess I’d made with my shirt before throwing it in the hamper in the corner of the room. A twisted part of me hoped she’d notice when she did laundry and wonder if I was thinking about her but the realistic part of me would kick in and handle the mess in the morning.
Settling in to the covers I hoped she was comfortable and safe, wherever she was.
Chapter 3
Aurora POV -
I didn’t mind biking the thirty minutes from the trailer park where I lived to the nice suburb. Being alone with my music and a direction was meditative. This morning however it wasn’t as nice as usual. Unable to stand for leverage I was moving slower than usual, my injured right side making the whole process more difficult.
Janine’s latest catch, ‘Paul’, was becoming increasingly violent. I did my best to stay out of his way but the two bedroom single wide trailer was tiny, cramped and rundown. Most of my time at home was spent locked up in my bedroom, venturing out only to fix everyone dinner or use the restroom.
Not long now and I would be able to afford a deposit for a room somewhere. I let daydreams of the day I left that place forever fuel me through the pain in my ribs and ankle. I’d gotten distracted, inadvertently letting the dinner pot boil over. Paul took offense and sent me to the floor with a nasty shove before a swift kick to the ribs. I’d scrambled to my feet and limped to my room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me. A fresh wave of anxiety shuddered through me.
I planned to ask Josh today if he would show me a few things I could do to be stronger and defend myself better. It might rouse his suspicions but I was just going to tell him a half truth, I wanted to be safe when I returned to campus someday. That was a safe and believable excuse in my mind.
Taking a deep breath I tried to force myself to walk normally in spite of the sharp pain that came with each step. Maybe I was naive to think I could disguise my injuries but I was going to try.
Answering the door rather quickly he welcomed me in and our day progressed as usual. Fortunately for me Josh had to tend to those cancelled meetings and would be busy until lunch time. I thought I had it under control with some Tylenol but was proven wrong.
Jason wanted a specific shark cup and plate set that was stored on a high shelf. Normally pulling out the little step stool and grabbing those things wouldn’t have been an issue.
Normally.
When I tried to put weight on that right ankle it gave and I yelped, falling backwards fully expecting to land hard on the kitchen tile.
Instead a strong pair of arms encircled my middle and I made contact with a hard, warm chest instead of cold, unforgiving floor. The pressure on my ribs hurt and I gasped, clutching at Josh’s forearms.
“Rori!” Jason’s alarmed voice hit my ears and I immediately tried to right myself and go to him but struggling against the hold hurt too much.
“It’s okay kiddo, I got her. Where are you hurt? Other than your foot?”
“Ribs.” It hurt to take in a breath to speak.
Nodding he maneuvered one arm under my knees and one under my shoulders, easily hefting me up into his arms. “I got you.”
I wanted to curl into a ball and never look at him again, this was too embarrassing. Settling me in a chair at the kitchen table he took a very clinical approach to examining my ankle and ribs. If I hadn’t been so upset the feeling of his fingers dancing on my rib cage would have made me dizzy. He let me catch my breath before asking the dreaded question.
“What happened Rori?” Josh sounded calm and collected as he went to retrieve an ice pack. Passing it to me he set about fixing lunch while waiting patiently for an answer.
“I tripped walking up my steps last night and fell. Nothing major, just some bruises.”
“You’re lucky they’re not broken.” My stomach dropped. It sounded like he was scolding me.
“Rori okay?”
“Yeah little man, I’m all good! Just an accident, no big deal!” I raised my hands in the air and smiled at Jason who looked relieved before going back to playing with his toys.
Josh set lunch on the table, ravioli, before collecting the little boy and depositing him in his booster seat next to me. Sitting down on my other side all of his moments were stiff. “You wouldn’t lie to me would you?”
My palms went sweaty and my heart pounded. I hoped my panic didn’t show on my face. Not trusting my voice I shook my head no and stuffed a piece of pasta in my mouth, making a pleased sound. I swallowed the food and the emotion all in one go. “No. I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t stop me from what I need to do again.”
“It’s fine. You rode your bike here yeah?”
I nodded and shoveled another bite in my mouth to avoid talking.
“Me and Jason are gonna drive you home this afternoon, once my meetings are done.”
A fresh wave of panic rolled through me. “No-no, please you don’t have to do that.”
“You’re in no shape to be riding your bike anywhere.” His voice was so cold. It made me want to cry.
“I don’t want to be a pain. I can ride the bus-“
Jason and I both jumped when Josh slapped the table. He seemed to catch himself before slamming it with full force but still made a loud noise. Quickly he looked at his son with a grin to ease any fear the little boy had.
But when he turned to me I could see it didn’t reach his eyes. His expression flattened out and it was like he was reigning himself back in.
I squeezed my thighs together as a confusing rush of emotions hit me. Fear of the consequences since I’d angered him and a strange flash of arousal that felt out of place but there it was all the same.
“Don’t argue with me.”
“Yes sir.”
Jey POV
Sitting through these afternoon meetings around the new Bloodline merchandise was torture. I’d never been a fan of this side of the job anyway and whatever was going on with Aurora was eating at me. Had I been a little bit of a bully and let my anger win for a minute? Absolutely but it will get me what I want which is some more information.
I was pretty sure someone was hurting her at home or she had a boyfriend. Thinking through my options I texted my twin who was also on the zoom call looking like he’d rather eat a shoe than look at yet another piece of concept art.
‘**Can yall take little man this weekend?**
I watched him respond on the call.
**’Yeah, you got something to do?’**
**Yeah**
It wasn’t often that I hid things from Jon but he didn’t need to know I was planning on essentially stalking my barely legal nanny for a couple of days. I sure as hell didn’t want to see Trinity’s face if she found out. But I had to know what was going on and figure out how to help her.
As of right now my plan was little more than to storm in, beat the ever living shit out of whoever I needed to, sweep her up and move her into my home and bed permanently. Far from foolproof but it was a work progress.
Finally the meeting came to a close. Heading downstairs I took a few deep breaths to make sure I had my temper fully back under control. It had been hard not to shake her by the shoulders and demand she tell me the truth so I’d settled on slapping the table for emphasis. I’d instantly felt like a jerk when both Jason and Aurora jumped in fear but we’d recovered.
The sounds of their laughter came from the kitchen, she was letting Jason ‘help’ her make pizza for dinner. Looked more to me like she was chasing the veggies he threw every which direction except at the dough in front of him but I enjoyed watching them together all the same. She genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time with him and he loved her already, taking to calling her “my Rori”. Clearing my throat to announce my presence I felt a stab of regret when anxiety fell over her face and she quieted instantly. Jason on the other hand clambered down from the step stool and rushed over, arms outstretched.
“Daddy! Look, making pizzas!” He waved excitedly towards where Rori leaned against the counter next to the bowls of ingredients. I tried to smile reassuringly at her but she just ducked her head, hiding her face with her hair.
“Nice, want some extra help Rori?” Jason was already trying to get down and back into the mix so I let him. It wasn’t the nicest thing, forcing her to talk to me, but she’ll learn to speak up for herself in time.
She would have to as my woman. I don’t know exactly when I decided that was going to happen but here we are.
Finally glancing up at me she bit her lip nervously. “Yes sir.”
An image of her doing that while on her knees in front of me flashed through my mind. I liked that a little too much, liked this oddly submissive behavior. It told me a lot to, her response to my anger. Fawning is what they call it, if I recalled the therapist correctly.
I stepped into her space deliberately, causing her to shy away from my hand. Persisting I gently caught her chin with my thumb and forefinger making her eyes go wide. Tempting as it was to push further and run my thumb over her abused lip I settled for making her look at me.
“M’sorry I scared you earlier.”
She blinked, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “You’re what?”
I snorted. “Girl I’m tryin to apologize to you. Pay attention.”
To her credit she recovered quickly. “I’m sorry, I am. I - it’s okay. Let’s get these pizzas in the oven.”
She pulled away but before I saw her pulse pounding in her neck and her eyes dilate. It was obvious she was into what I was doing. Perfect.
A little over an hour later found us loading up her bike into the back of my truck and heading down the highway. It never ceased to amaze me what being on either side of the highway could look like. Some trailer parks were nice with well kept homes, flowers and friendly neighbors. Some were like ‘Martin’s Cove’ complete with meth trailers, cars on blocks and folks toting guns in the waist bands of their jeans. I bristled at the thought of leaving her here but dutifully got out to retrieve her bike once we’d pulled up to #37.
An ugly white man stood on the porch with a stupid look on his face. I hated him. Rori’s face showed a flicker of fear when her eyes landed on him and I wanted to kill him. I had a feeling I knew who was leaving the bruises. I held onto her bike when she went to take it from me.
“Uh, Josh? I got it. Thank you so much again.” I could feel my blood pounding in my ears. The man hadn’t spoken but hadn’t looked away from Aurora either.
“Promise to call if you ever need help.” She tilted her head but must have remembered earlier today.
“Okay, I promise.”
I nodded. “I’ll pull up at eight.”
It made me physically sick to let her walk away but I did it. Once they’d both gone inside I pulled away. Jason fell asleep before we made it home so I got him tucked into bed and set about putting a bag together for his stay at his aunt and uncles this weekend.
I was too worried to sleep well, knowing full well she could be in trouble. Instead I found myself praying whatever gods or ancestors might be listening. The morning couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter 4
Aurora POV
I stood on the embarrassingly cluttered porch the following morning at 7:30 A.M. Janine and Paul were still in bed. Much to my surprise they hadn’t questioned me in depth, instead disappearing into her room after I made their dinner. I checked the calendar, it was the third.
Ah, her disability check had come in. They’d be flush with drugs for a couple days.
Great, that usually meant they’d leave me alone. And they had. Looking back at the front door yet again, it felt as if it were going to open and swallow me. That’s how it felt to walk into this house, like I was being eaten by a beast snd may never claw my way out.
Turning back I settled on the steps, flipping through my music. “Dirty Thoughts” started playing and I felt a flush start up my neck remembering what I’d done listening to this song last night. After securing my door that lacked a proper lock I’d lain in bed playing my interactions with Josh over in my head. Mostly the feeling of his thick arms and hard chest and calloused hands.
Only a few times, mostly due to lack of privacy, did I indulge the growing heat between my legs. Thinking about Josh had made the throbbing ache there unbearable and when I slid my fingers below the elastic waistband of my underwear I found myself soaked. While still very much a virgin I’d read enough romance novels to know what my body wanted from him. My heart and mind did too but they were a lot harder to make happy.
Carefully I’d started to feel myself, fingers dipping into my wet slit to awkwardly circle my clit while my other hand cupped a breast, lightly playing over a sensitive nipple. My inexperience was a pain though and after a few moments of awkward strokes I was worse off than before I started. Annoyed at myself for struggling I switched tactics to what I knew would provide at least a little relief.
Grabbing my ancient pillow I shoved it between my legs, balled up and pressed tightly to the small bud I was struggling to figure out. Closing my eyes I’d imagined sitting on his lap, straddling one of his big thighs while his hands cupped my bottom and his voice, deep and husky with want, encouraged me to move.
*”C’mon girl, that’s it. Move for Daddy.”*
It shamed me to think of him that way but I was so lost to the feeling it didn’t stick. Doing as imaginary Josh instructed I ground against the pillow, desperately seeking the short but intense flashes of pleasure it brought. If I did it long and hard enough I’d get a sharp spike that would somewhat ease the tension filling my body. It was nothing like “rolling waves” I read about but it did the trick and wore me out enough to sleep.
The sound of his truck rumbling up pulled me out of my memory and I stood, checking the time. 7:40 A.M., he was early. I needed to get myself under control, this crush was a distraction I didn’t need. What I needed was to get the hell out of this place before things escalated further and finish my degree.
And yeah I wanted kids and a husband and all that lovely stuff but I wasn’t naive enough to believe that Josh was the guy. He smiled at me, opening the passenger door and ushering me in. My heart did a cartwheel in my chest.
He had his choice of anyone. It would never be me and I was alright with that.
It didn’t stop me from wishing it were though.
“My Rori!” Jason’s voice was music to my ears. It was just Josh I’d fallen hard for after all. The toddler waving happily from his car seat in the back lit up my world and motivated me to get out of bed some mornings when I was depressed.
“Hey little man!” I smiled at him before turning to Josh as he pulled out of our driveway. This felt so normal and nice it was almost enough to make me forget where we were driving away from.
“Mornin. How was your night?” I noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
I blushed in spite of myself. “It was good. How about you?”
Josh raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the red in my cheeks. “S’fine.”
I mulled over my idea about asking for his help while chattering along with Jason. I’d couched the idea when he was so stern yesterday but he didn’t seem angry any longer and had apologized after all. By the time we pulled into the driveway I’d made up my mind. I spoke before he could open the door.
“Hey, Josh?”
“Hmm?” He tilted his head my way.
“Could-is it okay to ask- because if not I understand-“
“It’s fine just ask your question baby.”
My brain shorted out for a split second. He’s tired, don’t overthink it.
“Can you show me how to like, get stronger? And maybe how to, ya know, throw a punch? For when I go back to campus.” I bit my lip nervously, his expression was so neutral it was impossible to know what he was thinking.
Josh reached over to give my knee a squeeze and my warmth flooded through me. It was so quick I wondered if I’d imagined it but the genuinely warm half smile said otherwise.
“Hell yeah I’ll show you some stuff.”
My heart pounded as I followed the boys inside. I have to get a grip, he’s just being nice. A single quick squeeze doesn’t mean he’s into me.
I noticed the bag of Jason’s things on the couch and my heart dropped. If he was going somewhere else I may not have work for a while.
“Is little man going somewhere?”
“Yeah, my brother’s coming by to get him later, just for the weekend. I’m gonna get some sleep but we can workout some this afternoon, if you’re up for starting now. Just have to work around what’s hurtin.”
My heart soared. “Great, thank you so much.”
——
Jey POV
It was easy to sleep knowing she was safe downstairs with Jason and I made up for what I lost the night before. In my dreams Rori was beneath me, writhing in
pleasure while her fingernails dug into my shoulders and her lips whispered my name over and over like a prayer. Her voice got louder the closer she came to orgasm and I ground into her harder and harder.
“Josh…Josh…Hey Josh?”
Her voice went from thick with pleasure to confusingly loud. Slowly I became aware of someone shaking my shoulder.
“Huh?”
There was a soft giggle from next to me as the bed dipped a little. I realized the object of my dreams was sitting next to me nudging my shoulder. At the same time I realized I had a raging hard on.
“Jon’s here, figured you’d want to say bye to Jason before they took off.”
Shit was it after five already?
I had to get rid of her so I could get this under control. “Yeah. Be right there.”
When I didn’t move immediately she jumped up and ran like she’d been scalded. Maybe she realized she may have crossed a line coming in here, even if it was to get me up for something important.
I couldn’t wait to cross a hell of a lot more lines with her in this room.
But right this minute I needed to get myself presentable, something easy enough to achieve, at least temporarily, with a few deep breaths and splashing some ice cold water on my face.
Loading Jason into the car didn’t take long, he always loved staying with his cousins. Hugging him one last time I stepped back. My brother looked at me from the drivers seat, clearly wanting an explanation. Clapping his shoulder I smiled. “Thanks, got a leak and it’ll just be a lot easier to have guys out to fix it without him under my feet.”
The suspicion in his face melted away and we said our goodbyes. I’d miss Jason but I was excited about “working out” with Aurora, all alone. Not to mention I’d finally have a good chance to question her some. She stood in the kitchen tying up her hair when I walked back in.
“You ready?”
Aurora swallowed but nodded and I noticed her eyes flicker over me. My cock twitched, it was hot thinking she wanted me too. I still needed to clarify whether or not she had a boyfriend and while I couldn’t be certain it was that weird guy at her house who was hurting her I was pretty confident that was the case.
“Good, c’mon.” Leading her into the gym I flicked the lights on.
About 45 minutes later and she flopped on the floor, panting but smiling. Turns out she could throw a decent punch already. Settling behind her on my knees I let my hands fall on her shoulders and waited to see what she would do. Aurora stiffened but didn’t pull away so I slowly began to knead the muscles.
“You did good.” I don’t know if it was my fingers or my words that did it but she moaned softly, her cheeks blushing.
“Thank you.” Her voice was soft and shy.
Continuing up her neck I was gentle as I worked the tension there, surprised at just how tight she was. I decided to get down to what I wanted to know. “Got a boyfriend Rori?”
She blinked her pretty hazel eyes before huffing out a nervous laugh. “A boyfriend? No.”
Relieved, I let that concern go. “Aight. I didn’t think that guy in the porch yesterday was him but ya know, wanted to make sure.” I dug my fingers in a little harder and she drew in a breath with a gasp. My thumbs worked their way down her shoulder blades and her eyes drifted closed. Her muscles quivered under the threadbare tshirt she wore but my eyes were trained on the wet skin of her jaw and neck. I imagined what it would taste like to run my tongue along them in a long stroke.
“Nah, that’s just my mom’s latest boyfriend.”
“Latest?” I didn’t like the sound of that and based on where they lived I doubted these were high quality men drifting in and out of their lives. Already I hated this woman for putting Aurora in danger.
“Yeah, she’s just…I don’t know. She’s got some issues.” Aurora trailed off and I debated how hard to push. This was more than I’d gotten out of her before but I didn’t want her to shut down if I asked the wrong thing. I kept massaging her neck, working my way a little lower to her collar bone and she didn’t resist.
“How’s that feel?”
“Mmm, good.” Just when I thought she was really going to relax into me her phone buzzed. I hated the way she looked panicked when she opened the message. “Oh no, it’s getting really late, I should go.”
Reluctantly I let her stand and got to my feet as well. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”
Her nerves seemed to get worse and worse during the car ride. Every instinct in me screamed to make her stay, to not drop her off at that trailer. Something bad was going to happen and I knew it.
This time I reached over her to stop her from opening the door with one hand and grabbed her knee with the other. “Aurora look at me.”
She was startled but did as I asked.
“You don’t have to get out of this truck. But if you do, just promise to call me if you’re in trouble.” For a second I thought she was going to stay or maybe burst into tears. Instead she took a deep breath and smiled at me but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“I promise. Again.”
I squeezed her leg one more time before sitting back and letting her go. Something screamed at me to stop her but I didn’t.
I’d regret that sooner than later.
Chapter 5
Aurora POV -
I knew something was up the minute I walked in the front door, a sixth sense of sorts from years of living with a volatile drug addict. My heart skipped a beat when I realized my mother was in the dingy kitchenette stirring away at something on the stove. She never cooked anymore and anything out of the ordinary was cause for concern.
“Oh you’re home, I wondered if we’d see you tonight.”
Stomach twisting I approached her carefully. I’d only responded to her message five times apologizing for being late. “I’m sorry mama, I had to stay late for work.”
“You’re sure it was just for work? I didn’t see a baby in the car today.” Of course she’d been watching from the windows.
“Yes mama, Mr. Fatu offered me rides and I felt rude saying no.” Her face pinched but she recovered into a smile. I could feel the dread building in my lower spine.
“Go sit down honey, dinner is ready and Paul just pulled up with his friend.” Almost anyone else would have written her words off as a normal statement but from her it was a threat, I just didn’t know for what.
“Yes ma’am.”
Paul came clattering in followed closely by another white man who looked meaner and uglier than him. He smiled when he saw me, licking his chapped lips from behind a patchy beard. I shivered in disgust.
“This here is Danny. Aurora, be nice and say hi.” Awkwardly I waved, in fear of what would happen if I didn’t.
He looked at Paul with his beady, murky blue eyes. “She always quiet?”
Paul nodded. “Whaddya think?”
Danny smirked. “How much did you say?”
My heart plummeted to my feet as I stood. “What’s going on?”
All three other people stopped what they were doing. Danny looked amused and Paul looked at my mother expectantly. She came to pat my shoulder with a fake, cold smile.
“Well since you’ve been whoring yourself to your boss we figured you wouldn’t mind if we set you up with some new clients. And this way we make sure we get our cut, fair and square.” Her voice was so calm, mocking me with how caring and sweet she sounded even though her words were poison.
My jaw fell open and my stomach heaved. I couldn’t believe what just was hearing.
“I’m not sleeping with my boss!”
She’d sunk low before but this was completely unreal. I couldn’t believe she would actually agree to pimp me out.
“So, uh, where we gonna do this?” Danny reminded me of his presence.
I wanted to claw the nasty man’s eyes out and run. To where?
*Josh.*
“We’re not! Mom, tell him this is ridiculous, you can’t be serious!”
Pulling out my phone I got off a single message to Josh before Paul was snatching for it.
“SOS” with an alarm emoji.
^^^Trigger warning for attempted SA scene^^^
“Her bedroom is that way.” I’d never hated her so much as I did in that moment when she pointed down the narrow hall.
“No! Mom! Mom!” I shrieked as each man grabbed an arm and begin pulling me.
Danny snarled when I twisted and landed a nasty blow between my shoulders, sending me to the floor. He looked at Paul who gave me another swift kick to the side. “Didn’t tell me you hadn’t broken her in yet.”
“I’ll let you have the next session for free if you wanna help with that.”
With a shrug the other man grabbed my wrist and pulled hard in spite of my struggling. Throwing me onto my rickety twin bed I scrambled, trying to get to a weapon but he was already laying into me with the leather belt he’d pulled from around his waist. My ancient tshirt gave way easily under his hands, giving him direct access to the flesh of my back and shoulders. Blows rained down, burning so fiercely my eyes stung with tears. I curled into the fetal position, covering my head and trying to escape the worst of it.
He stopped hitting me to wrap the leather strap around my wrists and flipped me onto my abused back. Kicking at him didn’t do much even with my healthy ankle. I was tired and sore from the injuries and work out Josh had put me through earlier. My strength to fight was waining fast but I couldn’t just give up. Danny responded to a kick in the shoulder with a powerful punch to the stomach, making me gag and cough.
My jeans didn’t come off as easily as my tshirt but he managed with a few vicious yanks. I didn’t know how to get out of this. Closing my eyes I tried to picture Josh, Jason, my friends, my school, anything to get away from the gut wrenching reality of what was happening. My mother had sold me to this man and his awfully slimy hands were running up my thighs and over my ribs to squeeze my breasts with so much force it tore a lot sob of pain out of my chest.
End of triggering scene
And then, with a yelp of pained surprise, he was gone. For a few seconds all I could hear was the thundering of my pulse but once my body realized he was no longer bearing down on me my senses began to adjust. Shouts and thuds from the living room went on for a few more moments before a particularly nasty sounding crash and then it all went quiet. Unsure of what was going on I remained where I was, shaking and trying to get a grip on my breathing.
Finally I could hear a voice speaking clearly. A voice I knew.
“Don’t move you fuckin cunt.”
Josh appeared in the doorway of my tiny and now destroyed room looking every inch the enraged hero he was. With what strength I had left I launched myself into his arms and he met me halfway, scooping me up and holding me against his chest tightly while I buried my face in his neck.
He pressed his lips to the top of my head and spoke softly. “Do you need anything at all from here?”
I shook my head, unable to form words. With shaking hands he pulled the belt from around my wrists and threw it. Snatching the thin blanket he wrapped it around my shoulders before standing, holding me up bridal style. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders I leaned into him like I never had another.
I’d needed him and there he was.
He’d *saved* me.
The carnage in the living room was testament to his anger. Both men were laid out in the remains of the broken kitchen table, Danny bleeding from a head wound onto the floor. The door had been kicked in and Josh walked through splinters from the flimsy piece of fake wood he’d demolished like he owned the place. My mother sat wordlessly on the couch, her eyes wide in terror as she watched him stalk across the room and out the door.
I wouldn’t remember being bundled or being carried into the house or being carefully dressed in his clothes.
All the rest I would remember from that night came as Josh tucked me into bed next to him, his arms wound tightly around me as he whispered comforting words. Turning slightly I let my heart take the lead for once in my life.
Pressing my lips to his softly as I touched his face I said the only thing I could think of.
“Thank you.”
Reciprocating my kiss gently he held me tighter still. “S’okay now, Daddy’s got you.”
——
Jey POV
My plan may not have been foolproof but it had worked and Rori would never be going back to that awful place. Each time she woke up crying and screaming for me it wrenched my heart and made me murderous at the same. I hoped I’d done permanent damage and seriously considered going back to make sure the job was done.
While I’d let her go I hadn’t gone far, just pulling off the road about a mile away to mull over my options. Banging on the trailer door within minutes after getting her text her mother had creaked it open and tried to tell me to mind my own business and go away.
So I’d done the logical thing and kicked the damn thing as hard as I could, flimsy wood exploding everywhere on impact. Even as angry as I was I wouldn’t hurt a woman but Rori’s sad excuse for a mother didn’t know that. I’d sent her down to the couch with a relatively soft shove, at least compared to what I did to her man, and fear did the rest.
Paul got a firm right to the jaw before a couple swift kicks to the ribs just to show him how it felt. The other male, whose name I didn’t bother to learn, was dealt a couple body blows and some well aimed shots to the face before I threw him head first through their shitty table. The irony of that was the only part of the whole ordeal that made my mouth twitch to remember.
Just because I only pretended to throw hands on television didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck someone up for real if I decided to.
Aurora stirring in my arms got my attention. At first she burrowed deeper into my side, her cheek pressed into my collarbone. Thankfully it seemed like she was just waking up naturally rather than being scared awake by a nightmare. Ten hours punctuated by several rounds of panic wouldn’t be nearly enough to fully recover but maybe I could get her to eat something or shower before sleep claimed her again. Pressing my lips to her forehead I smiled and tried to be reassuring. “Hey sleepy head.”
She jumped so hard it was like I’d electrocuted her and I immediately felt bad for breaking the spell. Tumbling out of the bed Aurora yelped in pain when she hit the dark wood floor. Not what I had been expecting. Kicking the covers off my own legs I knelt down next to her and touched her leg gently. Her hazel eyes were blown wide and she looked a little dazed.
“Hey, hey you with me baby?”
Her throat moved as she swallowed and it looked uncomfortable. “I- Jesus Christ.” Burying her face in her hands she began to sob. Hard, heaving cries from deep in her chest. Pulling her into my lap I let her cling to me and cry it out. I could only imagine how she must feel.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there with her fist balled into my shirt and her tears soaking it but my left foot had gone completely numb by the time her sobs quieted into hiccups.
“She sold me.” I hated hearing her normally lyrical accent so hoarse and broken. She’d never cry so hard again, I’d make sure of it.
“I know baby girl.” I was very gentle with where I rubbed her arms and sides, minding as best I could all the places she was bruised.
“Why? I was paying her rent, she could have just asked for more money. I could have got another job. I could have worked nights or-or-“
“Aurora.” She paused and I cupped her chin, gently making her look at me. “There was nothing you coulda done. That’s greed baby, greed and addiction.”
Her eyes welled with fresh tears and she sniffed. “She’s gonna be so mad.”
As realization took hold I could see the panic in her swell. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, I don’t - I haven’t been able to get a room somewhere yet and she’s not gonna let me come back after that. Not unless…” Her voice dropped off and she shuddered.
I waited another beat to make sure she was done talking. “You don’t need to worry.”
She swiped a hand across her eyes. “What do you mean? I’m - this is so inappropriate Mr. Fatu.”
Barking a laugh I pulled her in and dropped another kiss on her forehead before moving to each of her cheeks and then the tip of her nose. “Since when do you call me that? And I mean I’m gonna take care of you from now on but you better start listenin or I’mma spank that fine ass.”
Not the most ‘appropriate’ thing to say but it had the desired effect and she let out a little laugh in spite of her self. Aurora sobered quickly though, worrying her lip and looking up at me through those long lashes. “I didn’t think you saw me that way.”
I shifted, trying to get some feeling back in my foot. “Yeah.” Now it was my turn to feel a little nervous. “Was I wrong thinking you felt that way?”
Maybe I had been wrong taking that little kiss as confirmation.
But I didn’t need to worry. Aurora shook her head emphatically. “No, I do. I have, since like, I started. It’s just that everything over the last few days barely feels real, ya know?”
That made sense. Trauma, especially something so violent and unexpected could shake your mental state up pretty badly. “Makes sense. But hey, I know what I’m feeling right this minute.”
She leaned back to look at me. “Yeah? Gonna share?”
Having finally regained feeling in my foot, I stood up with her in my arms and she reflexively wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hungry. I want breakfast.”
She laughed and hugged me tightly as I carried her to the kitchen.
——
Chapter 6
Aurora POV
Most of the day passed in a blur, I was so tired and slept a lot but Josh had made sure I got what I needed, only leaving my side when I took a shower.
I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was raw, possessed by an urgent need to purge the feeling of Danny’s hands on my body. Closing my eyes I tried to let the water ease the ache I could feel so deep it was like it was in my bones and focus on the positive.
Focus on Josh.
My heart fluttered when I thought about how it felt to be safe in his embrace and the feel of his lips. I was so used to everything being temporary or untrustworthy it was hard not to feel anxiety about it too. Well, more so that he would come to his senses and send me back there. I tightened my arms around myself when it was like my whole body rebelled at the notion.
I’d sleep in a dumpster before I went back there.
That thought sent off a fresh wave of fears and stresses I just couldn’t deal with in the moment. I found myself wanting nothing more than to curl up into Josh’s arms and beg for it all to go away. As if he could read my thoughts a gentle knocking on the door interrupted the free fall into disassociation.
“You okay?” He sounded worried.
I turned off the water, unaware it had progressively gone cold and stepped out, noticing the time on the wall clock. It was eleven, I’d been in here for almost an hour. My whole body warmed at the thought of his concern, mitigating the chill a little bit. I wasn’t used to someone worrying about me.
“Yeah…I just realized I don’t have any clothes though.” I felt young and stupid and vulnerable. Like a child who had forgotten their away bag for a sleepover and was too scared to tell anyone.
“I got you, so long as you don’t mind wearing my stuff again. We can take care o’the rest tomorrow.”
Wrapping myself in a towel I opened the door enough to receive the bundle of clothes he held. A makeshift tank top of his and pair of basketball shorts. It made me smile to myself to think of him chopping up tshirts various ways before his matches. The shorts were a no go, they wouldn’t stay up unless I had something to secure them. I’d have to settle for the shirt and the only ancient pair of panties I had from…that place. Not home. I’d never think of it as home again.
I loved being enveloped by his smell though, just wearing this made me feel safer and more relaxed. Another idea flitted through the back of my mind. One that would surely help me forget Danny and his slimy hands.
Instead of continuing to try and figure out how to get the shorts to stay up, I folded them up. Hesitantly I stepped into the hallway to find him waiting, scrolling on his phone.
His coffee colored eyes swept over me from head to toe and I couldn’t fight the blush I felt blooming. He straightened and I held out the shorts. “I’m sorry, they won’t stay up.”
Josh didn’t speak right away but licked his lips and blinked before looking from my exposed thighs to the floor as he took the garment back and tossed them unceremoniously. When he did talk it was low and soft. “S’okay. You don need to apologize all the time anymore baby.”
My brain was scrambled but hormones were a hell of a thing. I just wanted a little piece of good amid the crazy. Fuck it, what do I have to lose by teasing him a little? “Or what? You gonna spank me for that too?”
His head snapped up with a surprised expression that shifted quickly into a predatory smirk and my breath caught in my throat. When he stepped into my space, crowding me back against the doorframe I wasn’t even aware of the pain from the bruises but focused solely on him instead. Leaning down so our noses touched he never broke eye contact when he answered in a heated whisper.
“Baby girl, Daddy’s gonna spank you for all sorts of things and you gonna beg for more.” Bringing a hand up he cupped my chin and slid a thumb over my bottom lip, dipping into my mouth just a little. “And more. Once you’re feelin better you’ll be screaming for mercy all night, every night.”
I was pretty sure I was going to faint. Fear and need crashed through me together with an overwhelming intensity, the throb between my legs for him roared to life with a vengeance. All I could muster was a whimper and he chuckled softly.
“Gotta be careful what games you play baby, I always win.”
Now that sparked something defiant in me. An aroused defiance, but defiance all the same. I wanted to show him I could play too, this felt good and it worked towards my plan of making me forget all about yesterday.
I pressed my body into his, my nipples becoming hard and sensitive with the friction from pressing into his chest. My arms encircled his neck and his eyes widened in surprise. A hard lump rose against my belly as I tried to get my hips closer to him somehow, seeking relief for my aching pussy. Josh seemed a little uncertain but his arms came around my middle, melding us together nicely.
I didn’t know the right way to ask for what I wanted so I’d just have to go for it. “I want you.”
Simple and to the point.
He groaned, deep in his chest and started peppering kisses down my jaw and neck before retracing the path with a languid stroke of his tongue. My head spun and my hands clutched at his shoulders. I whimpered when his teeth grazed my neck, it felt so good it chased away the doubts and fears, replacing them with blind want and need. In this moment I’d do anything to be closer still.
Josh pressed a knee between my legs, making my head fall back with a gasp. Memories of my fantasy about riding his thigh caused a fresh rush of heat to my core and I ground against him with a helpless abandon. One of his big hands tunneled into my hair and then his lips were crushing mine, tongue thrusting between my teeth to explore and coax my own into action.
The hand not controlling my head began to slide up my thigh, I could feel his strength as he massaged his way up to my hip. Once there, he dug in hard.
Directly into a bruise.
I cried out against his mouth as my body went rigid in an unexpected flash of pain. He let go instantly with a curse but wrapped his arms around me to comfort me. Gritting my teeth against the hurt I pressed my face into his shirt and gave a frustrated whine. I felt him take a deep breath before he spoke.
“I’m sorry baby.”
Wrapping my own arms around him I gave his middle a squeeze, my voice mumbled against his chest. “Not your fault.”
He sighed and pulled back, looking down at me with a soft smile he ran a hand over my hair in a comforting gesture. “Needed to slow down anyway. You ain’t in the right place right now.”
Disappointment and insecurity flared to life within me. “I want to make my own choice.”
“I know baby girl but I don’t want you to hate me tomorrow. *I* don’t want to hate me tomorrow. And I will if I take advantage of you right now.”
Irrational tears burned my nose. Fear and shame made me think he didn’t actually want me and I tried to push away. “I’m sorry.”
“Where you goin?” He didn’t let me go and I fussed against him.
“I don’t know.” I sniffed, feeling confused and ridiculous. Some part of my brain tried to reason with me but the negative parts were louder. “Being close to you like this makes me feel some type of way. Lemme go.”
He laughed, deep a low and sexy and I hated him a little for how I was feeling. “Now hold on. We can still do somethin about that.”
I stopped wiggling and the half hearted pushing, my attention coming back to the warmth I could feel everywhere we touched. Jeez, trauma really does fuck with your ability to regulate.
“What do you mean?”
Stepping back he ran his hand along my arm until our fingers were interlocked and gave me a soft tug. “I just had to get myself together so I don’t cross that big line too early. But I said I’d take care of you and I meant it, now c’mon.”
I’d follow him anywhere right now even if I didn’t have a full picture of what he had in mind. Letting him lead me felt right and my fears he didn’t actually want me were soothed somewhat.
Once in his bedroom he let me go to strip down to his boxers. Shyly I averted my eyes and he snorted. “Better get used to this.”
He pulled me with him as he climbed into the bed, maneuvering until we were facing each other on our knees. “I want you to show me what you like.”
I blinked, suddenly feeling very silly and uncertain. “Uh, what do you mean?”
Josh’s smile was sexy, his beard felt good against my skin as he kissed the corner of my mouth. “Girl, you are somethin else. Show your Daddy how you like to be touched, show him what gets you off.”
Oh I’d understood him the first time but I wasn’t sure how I felt about showing him. “I-uh—I don’t know, it-I feel stupid.”
“There ain’t nothing stupid ‘bouta woman feeling pleasure Rori. Now, show me or there’ll be consequences.”
That bratty desire to be defiant rose in me again, wanted to test him and see what he meant by consequences. Maybe I’d explore that feeling another time, when I wasn’t so nervous. He seemed determined and I was too turned on to argue. At least I’d get a little relief from the ache between my legs. With a defeated sigh I caved. “Okay.”
Josh looked bemused but satisfied he was getting his way. Avoiding eye contact I grabbed a pillow and closed my eyes as I situated it between my knees, trying to find the right spot to put the most pressure. It was never easy and being watched made it so much worse.
“Rori?”
I froze, shame exploding in my gut. “Y-yeah?”
“Have you ever had sex?” His voice was gentle.
I shook my head no. He nodded.
“Been touched by someone else?”
Again I shook my head no and again he nodded.
“Hell have *you* ever touched yourself?”
Biting my lip I shook my head for a third time. “Well, I’ve tried a couple times but I just get frustrated and stop. This makes me -“ I shook my hands nervously, not wanting to say the words -“ya know, makes me feel good. It’s short but it helps.”
Running a hand over his face Josh took a few deep breaths and gripped his growing erection through the plaid fabric he wore. It was hard not to look down but his obvious size made me nervous.
“Whaddya think about when you do it?”
I shifted, seeking some relief. May as well tell him, I was getting frustrated, my nipples tingling and my pussy aching. I was so turned on I was fighting shivers. “Last time I thought about rubbing myself on your thigh instead of the pillow. You held me and helped me move.”
Josh groaned and bit the knuckle on his middle finger before speaking, his voice raw. “You’re makin the whole waiting a couple days part real hard right now baby.”
My own frustration was peaking, he was torturing me and I think he knew it. I sounded petulant but I didn’t care. “You asked!”
Ever so gently he encircled my neck with a hand, exerting a tiny bit of pressure. I felt my bones melt.
“Mind that attitude baby.” He smirked, watching my reaction with the same expression of a cat who’d caught a canary. “I’m decidin how I’m gonna get you off the first time.”
Before I could respond he was moving, shifting so he was situated behind me and slightly to my right, his chest pressed to my back. One of his calloused hands glided up underneath his shirt to cup my breast, rolling the hard pebble there between his thumb and forefinger. He nipped at my neck, alternating his pressure and soothing the spots where he bit me harder with his tongue.
I thought I might cum just from him playing with my breasts, I could feel every roll and pinch in my pussy. “Oh, oh, feels so good!”
I felt him smile against my neck. “Just wait baby, Daddy’s gonna blow your mind.”
Tauntingly the fingers of his other hand ran across the top of my panties, back and forth a few times before finally dipping below the elastic. I bucked against him involuntarily with a gasp when his finger brushed the top of my soaked slit for the first time. “Josh!”
He flat out growled, his fingers becoming more insistent in their exploration, dipping into my wetness. “Jesus fucking Christ, your body’s just beggin to be fucked huh baby? You want Daddy to fuck you?”
If it weren’t mad with need I’d have been ashamed of the noise I made, somewhere between a keen and a wail. When his fingers started circling my swollen clit, swiping over the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure I thought I was going to break apart. “Yes! Yes Daddy please!”
Letting go of my breast he used that hand to guide one of mine into his boxers to circle around his cock. I moaned, even if I couldn’t see him just feeling the thick, veiny staff in my hand was enthralling and so, so hot. Guiding my hand with his own he began making long strokes as he slid his other middle finger inside me. My walls clamped down around the digit, it was slightly uncomfortable but the added sensation of the heel of his hand pressed into my clit over road it with pleasure.
Pressing his lips to my ear he smirked even as he began to pant, his own pleasure building. “Ride my hand baby, ride it til you cum for me.”
It didn’t take a genius to know what he meant by “ride”. Doing what I would have if it were just the pillow I rolled my hips and lights exploded behind my eyes. “Oh my god!”
My whole body shuddered and I felt my control slip away, completely lost to the insane pleasure grinding into his hand brought me. I’d never managed a fraction of how good this felt on my own. Waves began to build within me and suddenly all those romance novels made sense.
“That’s it baby, give it all to me.” His hand sped up and so did I, feeling an explosion building within me.
“I-Josh, oh-I think I’m gonna cum!”
“Hmm, go for it baby girl, lemme see your face while you cum for me.”
I let my head drop back against his shoulder and opened my eyes to watch his face. The pressure in me erupted, sending shock after shock of intense pleasure through me. It felt like my whole body from head to toe was racked with the overwhelming sensation of my orgasm as my walls clamped around his finger over and over again. Relaxation like I’d never felt before washed through me amid the aftershocks and I slumped against him.
Wetness coated my fingers now as he continued to use my hand to jack off. Josh’s own noises were becoming more erratic as his release drew near. I leaned up to kiss him, deciding I’d try talking to him like he did me.
“Cum for me Daddy, I wanna make you feel good too.”
Removing his finger from me he brought it to his mouth and sucked my essence off, his eyes drifting closed as he moaned low and deep and long. After another few strokes his whole body stiffened, his dick pulsing in my hand with his release. I loved the look on his face as he orgasmed, it was so hot I felt a fresh spark of want.
“Shit baby, that was good.” Slowly, reluctantly he got up and padded over to the bathroom. He was completely naked when he came back with a hand towel. “Here sexy, clean up and I’m gonna get some clean boxers.”
Removing my underwear I did as he said, tossing the soaked garment and towel into the hamper as he crawled back into bed with me. Settling into his arms, my ear pressed to his heartbeat, I sighed contentedly, sleep already blurring my vision. “Thank you, this still hardly feels real.”
“You ain’t never gonna have to worry again baby. Now get some sleep.”
The last thing I remembered was him pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
—-
Jey POV
The first thing I became aware of the next morning were the long strands of sweet smelling auburn hair tickling my nose. The second thing I became aware of was her naked bottom pressed firmly against my morning wood, making me grateful I wore boxers to sleep. In a few weeks I’d be able to just roll her over on my stomach and slide into her soft heat, waking her up by fucking her.
Carefully so as not to wake her I shifted out of bed. She gave a slight whimper before burying her face in my pillow and settling back into sleep. Good. She needed it.
I played last night back over in my head as I filled a bottle of water, wrote a quick note that said “gym or kitchen” to leave on the bedside table to she wouldn’t panic about waking up alone and moved on into my morning workout. It felt good to move the weights around and lose myself to the focus it brought. A lot had changed in a short amount of time and it felt good to do something normal and consistent.
It had taken every shred of control I had not to push all the way and just take what I wanted. I’d been lost for a minute when she’d pressed that sweet, curvy little body against me, the want clouding her hazel eyes and her hips grinding deliciously against my leg. I don’t think I would have held back if she hadn’t cried out in pain and she deserved better for her first time than being rutted into against a doorframe. Not to mention I wanted her healthy and clear headed, not bruised and freshly traumatized.
Remembering the way her body had clutched my finger like a fucking fist caused a rush of blood to my cock. It turned a dark part of me on to know I would be the only man to ever have her. Normally I didn’t mess with younger women or virgins, I could be a hothead and made some stupid choices here and there but I really wasn’t interested in breaking some innocent girls heart. Sex was great, tears not so much.
A ding from my phone brought me back to the present and I dropped down from the pull up handles. A message from Jonathan along several others from Sami and Joe and Phil. Only one of them had my son and I didn’t have the wherewithal to chat about much else right now. At least not without spilling the whole ordeal.
“**when’s good? we can bring dinner w/ little man**
I wondered if he’d drop off food and Jason on the porch and drive away. I doubted it but I also felt a twinge of anxiety at the thought of explaining the situation to anyone, let alone my twin. And Trinity.
The longer I waited the worse it would be though.
Taking a deep breath I responded.
**yeah thanks. 7?**
While I waited for him to respond I hopped on the delivery app and ordered a few pairs of underwear and simple blue tank top dress in Medium. I wasn’t an expert on women’s sizes but I figured that was safe. I’d let Rori go shopping for herself when she felt up for it. The thought of spoiling her, of dressing her in nice clothes and other nice things made me grin. I’d never mentioned it but I’d noticed she wore the same few ancient articles all the time.
**bet, c u later**
Wrapping up my workout I moved to the kitchen to make breakfast and debated waking her up. I didn’t have to wonder what to do long when she appeared in the room, making me jump and swear which was followed by her giggling.
“Gonna get you a damn bell.” I went to her and pulled her close as a blush stole across her cheeks. “How’d you sleep baby?”
“Not bad. Was pretty tired after last night.” Her fingers were drawing shapes on my chest, causing a tingling feeling to spread into my lower body.
I laughed and stroked her hair. “Did you like that?”
Aurora nodded shyly and ducked her head to avoid eye contact.
Dropping my head to kiss the shell of her ear I smiled when I felt her shiver. “You want Daddy to touch you some more baby?”
Embarrassed she pressed her face into my chest and nodded again.
“Nah girl, you gotta look at me when you ask me to make you cum.”
Biting her lip she looked up at me through those lashes, the same look that had me thinking about her on her knees, and whispered.
“Please?”
Hauling her over my shoulder made her shriek but the laughter it dissolved into told me she wasn’t upset. Breakfast forgotten I headed for the bathroom, an entirely different meal now on my mind. Swatting her ass lightly made her squirm and whimper deliciously. I couldn’t wait to hear the noises she’d make with my tongue buried in her while orgasm after orgasm tore through her.
“What’re you doing?”
“You’ll see baby.” I liked the sound of her laugh so I tickled her bare thighs making her wiggle even more. She gasped then froze when we got to the master bath and I sat her on the cool marble counter.
“Uh, Josh?” Aurora sounded uncertain.
“Hmm? You gonna get nervous now?” I cranked in the water and turned to her.
She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “No…”
I smiled and held the sides of her face, guiding her in for a deep kiss. Coaxing her with my tongue I felt her relax and return the kiss, gently pressing back against my invasion as she slid her hands up my chest to my shoulders. Waiting was going to be so hard. Breaking away I grinned down at her.
“We don have to do anythin you ain’t ready for. All you ever gotta do is say ‘stop it’ and I promise I will.”
Aurora sighed and I could feel the relief roll over her shoulders. “Thank you. I want you so much I can’t think one minute and then the next I’m really nervous and then I’m sad.”
It made sense, she had been through so much. “Well where you at right now?”
Glancing at the shower before looking back at me she answered in a shy whisper. “Can’t think.”
I ran my hands up her thighs until my thumbs rested against her lips there, hovering just outside her slit. She trembled and whined. “You wet for me?”
She nodded and I took my hands away to pull the shirt off, leaving her completely exposed before stripping down myself. I liked the little gasp she gave before averting her eyes again. Mindful of our states I wrapped her legs around my waist and carried her to the shower. The hot water was incredible but didn’t come close to the feeling of her nakedness pressed against me. All I would have to do is pin her to the wall and thrust.
I set her down under the spray but pressed her to the cold wall with a kiss, trailing down her neck to her shoulder. Her hands slid up and down my wet biceps, squeezing and clawing. Closing my mouth around one of her brown nipples she cried out when I sucked, rolling my tongue over the sensitive bud.
“Josh! Oh!” Girl had some sensitive nipples. Good, I couldn’t wait to torture them and try to make her cum that way. But another time, right now I had something else planned.
Careful to as not to slip on the slick floor I got to my knees in front of her while kissing my way down her belly. I loved the way her whole body twitched when I gently bit her inner thighs.
“Put your legs on my shoulders baby.” I kissed her lower belly one more time before lifting her bottom. She did as instructed but she looked off balance as her hands fought for purchase on the stone wall. “And your hands in my hair.”
“What’re you gonna-oh god!” Aurora’s hands tunneled into my hair as I slid my tongue along her wet seam. She tasted so good it made me moan and I continued lapping at her.
Nails dug into my scalp as I picked up the pace, alternating between circling her clit and plunging deep into her pussy, thighs quivered and tightened around my ears and her heels dug into my back. She moaned and cried out, my name tumbling off her lips over and over again. But I wanted something else.
Carefully I shifted most of her weight to my shoulders in order to free up a hand. She whined when I pulled back a bit but kept teasing her opening with a finger. “Wanna hear you call me Daddy baby girl. I want you to beg Daddy to let you cum.”
When our eyes met I was rewarded with a gorgeous sight, her lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed, eyes half lidded and cheeks bright. She was completely mine to do with whatever I wanted in that moment and the power of her trust was better than any drink.
“P-please Daddy, please let me cum for you.” Her lack of control was evident in the tremble of her voice. I wouldn’t make her suffer too long. We could play those games another time.
Pressing my face back to her pussy I slid my middle finger into her slowly while sucking on that delicate bundle of nerves. Her head fell back and she arched into me with a wail as her walls spasmed around my finger. I kept going, kept feasting at her through the waves of her first orgasm and into the next as she began to twist and buck, now crying out for mercy.
“Too much! Too much! JOSH!” As her second release peaked her voice cracked with a scream I’d never forget. I slowed down but kept licking until she began tapping out on my arm and pleading with me to stop.
As promised I let her go and she melted into my arms, we sat that way for a few moments while she caught her breath. After a few minutes I nudged her chin so she’d look up at me. “You good?”
“I didn’t know my body could do that twice in a row.” The shock in her voice was a nice stroke to my ego. I prided myself on being a giving partner, I loved a woman’s face lost in pleasure.
“That’s just a taste too baby girl. I bet we can get more than that outta ya.”
Her grin took on a mischievous quirk. “What about you? Can I do that?” Inquisitive fingers encircled my cock and I grunted. Righting myself I put a hand on her shoulder indicating she stay down on her knees.
And there it was, that look where she bit her lip and looked up at me, only this time droplets of water caught in her long lashes giving her an unearthly beauty. Copying my earlier motions she ran her hands up my thighs before finally touching me again, carefully stroking my length. Gently grabbing a fistful of her hair I guided her until the tip was pressed to her lips.
“Breathe through your nose and take your time. So long as you don’t bite me I’ll prolly like whatever you do.”
I knew exactly what I liked in a blow job but this wasn’t the time for that kind of roughness. Instead I wanted to let her explore and take it at her own pace for now, until she was more comfortable. Then I’d worry about getting all the way down her throat.
It was impossible to contain my hiss when her tongue flicked out over the tip, she gave a few more licks before taking the tip fully into her mouth for few sucks. The sight of her like this was so hot, I never wanted to forget. Carefully, she inched a little farther, taking an another inch or so. She still had a long way to go and it was hard fighting the urge to thrust forward.
“Gimme your hand baby.”
She did as instructed without stopping the back and forth motion she’d started on those first few inches. Taking her fist I wrapped it around the base and showed her how to move her hand in time with her mouth. Wet and sloppy with her saliva her hand glided up and down smoothly, pretty soon I was the one twitching with my head thrown back.
Taking a little more Aurora moaned around me before taking so much she finally gagged. Knowing it was getting her turned on too and that she wanted more was just about enough to send me over. I stopped her by pulling her head back. “Lemme cum on that pretty face baby.”
She nodded and using her hand it only took a few more seconds of stroking before I painted her face and hair and chest with a deeply satisfied groan. Watching her pink tongue swipe my essence off her lips was almost enough to get me hard again even so soon.
“Did I do okay?” I loved the shy but hopeful expression as I pulled her to her feet to rinse us both off.
“Nah baby, you did great.” I kissed the top of her head, turning off the water and stepping out, pulling her along.
My phone buzzed letting me know her clothes were here. Good, I needed to tell her about Jon and Trinity coming for dinner anyway.
Aurora smiled at me and went about drying off, sneaking looks over as we exited the room.
“I ordered you some clothes and they’re here, I’mma get dressed and go grab em. Need to talk over some food so meet me in the kitchen?”
With a nod she danced off to the kitchen in her towel and I smiled after her. Now I just had to get over the hurdle of explaining this to my brother and his wife without sounding like a total head case.
Chapter 7
Aurora POV
“Josh…”
“We don *have* to say anything specific. These things, it’s just gonna be hard to keep it from Jon anyway. Can’t ever hide shit from each other.”
I nodded but it didn’t make me feel any better. It was easy to accept that he had strong bonds to his family, I just didn’t know how that felt. Everything still felt new and raw, I wasn’t even a whole 72 hours into this relationship before he’s talking about letting people know. It felt rushed and I couldn’t tell if I would feel that way normally or just because of the situation.
“Okay.” His eyes narrowed, my tone must not have been very convincing.
“Bullshit. You better learn t’speak up for yourself ‘round here.”
Crossing my arms I tried to force the words out of my throat. It wasn’t easy, I’d never been asked directly how I felt about things. Not unless I was going to be punished for those feelings.
“Promise you won’t be angry?”
Understanding dawned in his eyes and his whole face softened. Gently he tucked a loose strand of my crazy hair behind an ear. “Promise.”
“It feels rushed. This-us-I don’t even know what we are. I don’t know what’s safe to assume or not. I’m nervous. What if they don’t like me? Or thin-mmph!”
Josh cut me off by pressing his lips to mine with a grin. His hands ran gently over my arms and back up to stop at my shoulders with a comforting pressure. “Relax baby girl. You and Trinity are gonna make a great team and Jon’s gon love you just because. It’s me they’re gonna be mad at.”
That didn’t make sense. Why would they be mad at him when he’d saved me? “Why?”
With a groan he swiped a hand over his face. “Cuz anyone with sense would assume I’m completely takin advantage of you. Hell I am. Never shoulda touched you.”
Tears built in my eyes as fear rippled through me again when his face became clouded with guilt. What if he decided he didn’t really want me or this was all too wrong? I didn’t want that. My heart hurt at the thought of not feeling him close anymore.
“But-but-“
“Shhh, baby.” His calloused hands cupped my face and his thumbs ran along my jaw. “Doesn’t mean I plan t’stop.”
My emotions were a roller coaster and I really didn’t appreciate him sending me for another loop. I reared back and punched him in the shoulder, not hard enough apparently, but he was right again about winning games. He acted as if I’d dislocated it, making a dramatic noise and falling to his knees in front of me, effective in making me laugh as he’d planned.
When he started running his hands up and down my thighs while kissing my stomach through the soft cotton dress he’d presented me earlier my laughter dissolved into soft sighs. I gripped the counter and tried to grit my teeth in an effort to hold onto my frustration.
“Not fair.”
He was pushing the knee length hem up past my waist with one hand while the other ran two fingers over my clothed slit. Even through the underwear the sensation made me twitch, my hips seeking more. As much as my body wanted it I needed to think, to get ready. I pushed him away
“Stop it.”
The twist of his lips was contrite but he stood and guided me to the table. “Here, sit and I’ll make us somethin to eat.”
“What do we tell them?” Fidgeting I realized for the first time since texting Josh I didn’t have my phone. “Dammit.”
“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow at me.
“My phone. Oh man, my laptop. How am I gonna get schoolwork done?” All the overwhelming feelings that felt like they were hovering just behind a dam threatened to spill over. Panic tightened my chest and made my head swim, I dropped it into my hands, grinding the heels of my palms into my eyes. Josh was by my side right away, murmuring soft, comforting words in my ear while he petted my hair.
“Hey, hey, you gotta breathe Aurora. We’re gonna take care of all that, I was just waiting for you to feel better before I brought it up. Get you a new phone, new computer, new clothes, all of it, whatever you need.”
Instead of stopping my tears his words broke the dam and I started crying again, this time in a weird mix of sadness, stress, gratitude and love. It was hard to believe he cared so much but I had no choice but to trust him. Not something I was inherently unhappy about but also not something I was used to. Everyone in my life had let me down so far. Would Josh really be different?
“Let it out baby.” He cradled me against his shoulder and let me sob. Faster than before I felt the immense waves of emotions subsiding and my cries faded only for my stomach to growl loudly.
Josh laughed, rubbing my neck and kissing my forehead as he stood and went about fixing sandwiches.
“Thanks.”
“You don’t have to thank me but you’re welcome. As for your first question, we’re gonna tell ‘em the truth. I don’t like lying to Jon an there’s no point. Now, what we tell everyone else may be different. But don’t worry bout that tonight.”
I was struggling with the thought of talking to his closest relative, I couldn’t conceive the thought of more people right now. Taking a bite of my meal I nodded, using the time I needed to chew to think over what I wanted to say.
“I don’t really understand your need to tell him but I can be okay with it. But can we keep it at them for now please?”
“Course baby.”
“I really miss Jason, can’t wait to hug him.” The little boys love would be a much needed balm right now.
“Me too.”
It felt good to be listened to even if I didn’t understand how I was feeling. I just have zoned out because Josh laid a hand over one of my and called my name quietly.
“You with me Rori?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you really wanna be together? We don’t-“ he paused and worked his jaw for a second “-don’t have to be together ya know. I’ll make sure you’re okay and I’m gonna keep paying you for taking care of Jason. If you know, you wanna leave at some point.” He was squeezing my hand now, almost to the point of pain.
I loved his touch. Raising my gaze from where our hands rested on the table to his dark eyes I swallowed and tried to make sure whatever I said next captured what I wanted to say. ‘Yeah, duh’ didn’t seem right.
“You asked me earlier and my answer is the same. No body else I’ve met has made me feel like this.” I paused and tilted my head in thought. “I like our lives together so far. I don’t wanna go anywhere. Just scared. Like it’s too good to be true.”
He nodded. “You been through a lot, hell I don’t hardly know what all, but we can make something outta this, something real good. Just gotta do the work.”
“No you sound like the school counselor.” I felt my lips quirk into a grin when he made a face.
“Ugh don’t remind me how young you are. And I sound like that cuz I went to therapy. You’re gonna go too.” Now that surprised me.
“You go to therapy?”
“Yeah. Ever since little man was born. Can’t be mad all the time with a kid around, ya know?” He tilted his head and smiled with a shrug.
“Yeah. I don’t even know my dad’s name.” I laughed when he winced. “It’s okay. I’ve have a long time to make peace with it.”
“Still. I know it’ll take some time but I want you to trust I’m not gonna go anywhere or hurt you or throw you out.” I don’t know how he read my mind so well but I appreciated hearing it all.
“Now c’mere.” Pulling me into his lap Josh buried his face in my neck, nipping and kissing and licking softly while he massaged my thigh. Smacking his shoulder I shrieked a laugh.
“You’re the worst!”
“Oh you have no idea.” And with that he slid a hand up my dress again, pressing that most sensitive spot while his lips worked their way to my ear. “Don’t want you thinkin of sad stuff. Want you all hot and bothered and moaning.”
He got his wish as he worked me with his hand until I was clutching his shoulders and making a mess in his lap. Laying against his chest as the aftershocks receded I closed my eyes and let the remaining exhaustion steal me under again. My last coherent thoughts were on his voice murming to me softly.
“I got you baby, Daddy’s gonna keep you safe, I promise. You’re home with me now.” I thought I dreamed the last part but I would have sworn he said, “I love you.”
—-
Jey POV
Carrying the small woman in my arms was becoming a habit I didn’t want to get rid of. I loved how she melded into me as if she was fucking custom fitted. Loved how easily she let me maneuver her and the warmth of her curves. Loved her laugh and her accent and the way she moved.
I loved Aurora Begay.
Goddamit.
It wasn’t easy to come to terms with the fact that I was, indeed, taking advantage of her situation. It was impossible not to be touching her all the time, like I needed to make sure she was really here, really okay and really wanted me back. I wanted her to forget the bad she’d been through but was also painfully aware that isn’t how it works.
Settling her sleeping form on the sofa I went to work on the house. There wasn’t much to do without little man leaving a trail of crumbs and toys behind him. Something a dog would be good for helping clean up. An idea occurred to me. Maybe Aurora would like a companion? Jason would lose it for a dog.
I decided we were going to the local shelter if that’s what Rori ended up wanting. Running the easy mop over the floor I looked over at her on the couch. I’d do just about whatever she wanted to make her happy, something I had a feeling fancy things wouldn’t accomplish but another being to love and be loved by would.
Jason. I was thankful they already got on so well and that he was so young. At three there wouldn’t be much of a difference in his perception of the situation. If anything, having ‘his Rori’ around more often and closer would be a good thing in his mind. Once I was satisfied with the state of the downstairs I settled in next to her and checked the time. Almost 7, my brother would be rolling up any minute.
Reaching over I nudged her shoulder. “Hey baby, wake up.”
“Hmm?” She stretched and looked disoriented upon opening her eyes at first but smiled when they landed on me. Again I tugged her close to me, enjoying the smell of her hair and the way she giggled when my beard tickled her neck.
“They gon be here soon. You feel ready? Need to do anything?”
No sooner than she shook her heard no the doorbell rang. I could see the anxiety flicker in the way her brows drew together and her lips tightened. Kissing her forehead I went to let them in.
“It’ll be okay, I promise.”
My brother and his family tumbled in like usual, talking and laughing about something or other while handing a waving Jason over to me for a hug. Trinity noticed Aurora standing in the living room first and turned to me with a confused expression. She nudged Jonathan and he did the same, before Jason finally noticed her from my arms. His scream of joy was piercing.
“MY RORI HERE!”
Rushing to him with a huge smile I was happy to see she wasn’t shy about showing her love for him. Her whole face was heart stopping as she swept him away from me and his chubby arms locked her neck in a vice.
“Sure am little dude!”
“Let’s move this to the dining room.” Neither Jon nor Trinity were satisfied but did what I asked. “Aurora? Can you start setting up while I get drinks baby?”
I made sure to add that to the end and avoided meeting their gazes. They’d have it explained soon enough.
Of course my twin followed me through the swinging door into the kitchen, putting a hand against the refrigerator door so I couldn’t open it before he finally spoke. “Excuse me.”
I sighed. “Yeah?”
“The fuck you calling Jason’s nanny “baby” for? Why is she here Joshua?”
I knew he’d be mad but using my whole first name let me know we were starting off at a solid 7.5 on the Richter scale.
“I’ll explain everything after dinner and the kids are occupied k?”
He pushed away with a huff, his anger palpable but helped me gather beers and cups of water. When we got back to the dining room Aurora and Trinity had all three kids settled in their seats as they portioned out food, making small talk about the kids. I was relieved they seemed to have slipped into conversation on their own. Dinner was nice but quick as they caught Aurora and I up in what everyone had done that weekend. It was obvious they were rushing and I couldn’t blame them, I may or may not have dropped the “baby” just to aggravate the situation but also to give them a heads up in a weird way.
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secret-sturniolo · 11 months
Text
under the stars - matt sturniolo
summary - it's y/n and Matt's 1 year anniversary, and she can't wait to see what Matt has planned...
warnings - angsty beginning but a fluffy ending, one kiss
a/n - thank you so much for all the love on my first fic "Hot Tub"! i'm so glad you guys liked it, and i am so excited to keep writing!
When I woke up to my alarm this morning, I felt super groggy, and my first instinct was to hit snooze and go back to sleep. That is, until I remembered what day it was. Matt and I have been dating for one year today! I immediately checked for any messages from Matt, but I didn't see any. That's strange I thought, but I figured he had something planned and he wanted to surprise me, so I didn't think much of it. Instead, I decided to get ready for the day so I would be prepared for when Matt told me what he had planned.
I started with my makeup, doing a simple, natural look like Matt always liked. Then I picked out a baby blue crop top, (Matt's favorite color), a pair of high waisted jeans, and I planned to wear my white Air Force 1's. Then I put on my silver necklace with 2 small hearts intertwined, which had been a gift from Matt for Valentine's Day. When I was done getting ready, I checked my phone again, but still nothing from Matt. I'm not going to lie, I felt my heart sink a little, but I decided to call him. Maybe he's just sleeping still I thought as I clicked on Matt's contact. I let it ring all the way through, but there was no answer. I began to get a little worried, so I decided to text Chris and Nick.
Hey, are you guys with Matt, he's not answering his phone? 1:32pm
I waited for a response, but still nothing. My heart began to sink even deeper, my hands shaky and thoughts racing. How could he forget? Hot tears began to roll down my face as I lost all hope, smearing my freshly done makeup down my cheeks. I decided to stop trying, figuring that he obviously didn't want to talk to me. Feeling heartbroken, I took off my carefully planned outfit and changed into sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, and crawled back under my blankets. I guess I'm ending up going back to sleep anyways I thought. The tears slowly turned into wracking sobs, until finally I was so exhausted that I could no longer keep my eyes open, and I fell into a deep slumber.
When I awoke, I couldn't immediately tell whether it was morning or night. I rolled over to check my phone, and the time read 8:57pm. I didn't mean to sleep that long I thought, as I began looking at my unread notifications.
hey babe, im so sorry but everything will make sense soon 8:46pm
im picking you up in an hour, wear something cozy :) 8:48pm
I stared at the screen, frozen in place as I re-read the texts. So he didn't forget? I quickly text back okay :) love you and I get out of bed once again to get ready. As I look in the bathroom mirror, I can see that my mascara is no longer on my lashes, but instead smeared around my eyes and cheeks. I gently wipe the old makeup off, but decide to leave my face bare rather than reapply more makeup. I leave my sweatpants on, and swap out my baggy tee for a better fitting hoodie, remembering how Matt told me to dress comfortably. Finally, I put the heart necklace back on, pausing to hold the hearts between the fingers as I wonder what could possibly have taken Matt all day. I remember how Matt thinks I look extra cute with braids in my hair, and I decide to put two dutch braids into my dirty blonde hair. Just as I was finishing up, I heard a knock at my front door, and I immediately knew who it was.
I ran to open the door, and just as I thought, Matt was standing there with a smile on his face, looking as handsome as ever. I jumped into his arms, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.
"Matt, I thought you forgot!" I say, slightly exasperated.
"I know, I'm so sorry sweetheart." he says, holding me tighter. "I could never forget this day. I just had to make sure that my plans were perfect for you."
Smirking slightly, I ask him, "What do you have planned?"
"Get in the car, and you'll find out." Matt tells me, grabbing my hand and pulling me out the door.
The ride was about 20 minutes. The whole time, Matt had his left hand on the wheel, and the other was tightly gripping mine, our hands resting on the center console. As the night sky got darker, I admired the stars in the sky. I had always loved them, and I had told Matt multiple times before about my dream of going stargazing one day.
"Matt, look at the stars, aren't they beautiful?" I said, turning to look at him. Matt just giggled in return.
When we reached our destination at the top of a hill, Matt put the car in park and motioned for me to get out and follow him. Once again, he grabbed onto my hand, waiting for me to notice what he had set up. When I saw it, my jaw dropped in awe.
Firstly, Matt had set up a circle of small lanterns, each one giving off just the right amount of light. At the center of the circle, there was a luscious pink blanket big enough for two people, along with two matching pillows at one end of the blanket. At the other end, he had set up a bottle of sparkling juice with two glasses, and an assortment of some of mine and his favorite snacks. It was so perfect, better than I ever could have imagined. All of the stress from earlier in the day melted away, as I turned to look at Matt.
"I hope you like it, I know I upset you earlier but-"
I quickly cut him off with a short, but passionate kiss that said everything that words couldn't.
"Matt, this is perfect! You know I've always wanted to do this!" I buried my head in his shoulder as he laughed and squeezed me back.
"C'mon, let's go lay down." Matt guided us into the circle of light, and we laid side by side, my head on his chest.
"What, am I a better pillow than the one I got you?" he teased.
"The pillow is great, but you're even better." I replied.
As we looked up into the sky, we took turns pointing out the constellations that we could see, just simply being in the moment with each other's company. I couldn't imagine a better way to spend our anniversary, or a more perfect perfect person to spend it with.
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defectivevillain · 2 months
Text
this winding labyrinth, ch9
chapter nine: the crawl
pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader is not gendered, race-ambiguous, and no physical descriptors are used)
summary:
You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.
this is chapter 9, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapters 1-8, this won't make too much sense.
ao3 version | Spotify playlist
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Warnings: smoking, addiction, withdrawal symptoms, suicidal ideation; animal death, typical gore/violence
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A bit of a disclaimer here: the reader is somewhat forced to curb their smoking addiction, which results in several withdrawal symptoms. Their addiction isn’t intended to be a centerpiece of this fic in the slightest, so the pacing of that part of the story may seem a little fast. I want to restate that I don’t intend to romanticize addiction or substance abuse in the slightest—I tried my best to do some research and ensure that this depiction was as accurate as possible. Hopefully, I haven’t made any missteps along the way.
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Jack took away your lighter and your cigarettes. He even went so far as to appear on your front doorstep and demand that you turn over any remaining materials you had at home. It was utterly humiliating and dehumanizing to have your privacy so swiftly broken. Not to mention, it felt incredibly patronizing. You’re a fully-grown adult, not a child who needs disciplining. You’re able to make rational decisions and monitor your own health. And yes, smoking was having a poor effect on your health. But you had already considered its adverse effects and decided to ignore them (and even embrace them). 
Truthfully, you hadn’t thought that your new habit was consistent enough to create an addiction, but you were wrong. In the hours following Jack’s house visit, you’re shaking and trembling as you stare off into the wall in front of you. Your mouth feels dry, your eyelids feel heavy, and a persistent nausea climbs up your throat, threatening to spill past your lips. Most of all, you feel terribly… empty. There is an utter lack of emotion and color to your life. Everything bores you, nothing excites you. 
Typically, when you feel uncertain or are struggling with something, you’re able to throw yourself into work. But now, when you focus your attention on work, you find yourself experiencing a new emotion as you meet the hazy eyes of the corpses of victims: envy. When you blink and look down at them, you see yourself lying on the cold metal table—skin mottled and entirely motionless. 
You’re starting to think you won’t feel anything ever again; you’re succumbing to the seemingly infinite fog suffocating everything and everyone around you. Everything lacks substance. Nothing gives you fulfillment. Life is horribly muted and painfully monotonous. You wake up in the morning, pretend that your breakfast tastes like something, drive to work, toil away at your desk (and occasionally find yourself in the field), force yourself to eat lunch, do more work, go home and pretend your dinner isn’t the same meal as the night before—only to fall asleep and repeat the cycle all over again. It’s all an act—a performance to convince yourself and Jack that you’re capable of getting better—even when you don’t believe it to be true.  
Surprisingly, somewhere along the way, going through the motions—as miserable as they are—begins to yield results. You begin to feel the familiar stirrings of rage and disgust in your gut as you come across corpses; grief and remorse when you’re left to the shadows seeping through the corners of your home. You’re slowly picking up the pieces of your shattered psyche. 
…But then the card tower of coping skills you spent time delicately arranging topples down into a scattered mess. But then the pendulum tears through the air in front of your eyes, until you’re standing at the top of a carpeted staircase and looking down at a woman’s sprawled body with the taste of copper settling on your tongue.
Through the shadows, you can see her husband crawling on the ground—dragging himself towards you in a futile attempt at resistance. You grab his hair and yank his head up, promptly pushing the barrel of your gun to his temple and firing a shot he will not survive. The children are swiftly eliminated with the same unapologetic cruelty—necks twisted brutally and viciously. 
You look down at your bloodied hands and inhale slowly, feeling a strange sense of serenity and peace overtake you. The Jacobis and the Leedses were small steps towards your desires; this family is a much bigger lunge towards them. Even so, you feel a magnetic pull towards the bathroom tucked away in the corner—a visceral urge to punch the mirror and dig your fingers into the shards of glass. But you cannot leave fingerprints, so you have to settle for placing a shard in your pocket and making a quick departure. There is nothing left for you here. 
The pendulum is unyielding in its descent, as it roughly pulls you back to the present moment: back to the chilly white walls of the lab and away from the trickling warmth of crimson running down your fingers. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you entered the laboratory—nor do you really recall entering the space in the first place. Yet here you are: staring down at the mother’s wide, milky eyes and wishing they could tell you more. 
Jack and you are standing over the table in utter silence. You can’t pinpoint exactly what Jack’s feeling, but you’d wager it’s a mix of guilt, frustration, pain, and exhaustion. Well, the pain and exhaustion may be projections. Your limbs have been trapped in an eternal state of dull aching; the skin on your face feels drawn far too tight across your cheekbones and jaw. There’s a weird taste settling on your tongue and a desperate tremble to your hands. You haven’t been sleeping well lately either. It’s almost as if your body knew that something was about to happen, because, in the past few days, you’ve only slept for a collective few hours. And you doubt your sleep is going to get much better, now that the image of the fresh corpses is thoroughly cemented in your mind. 
While the pain ebbs and flows, as you suspect, your sleep gets worse in the coming days. The unfounded dread from before gives way to skin-deep grief and persevering self-loathing. You’re sleeping at short intervals—with long periods of restlessly staring up at the ceiling interspersed across them. Even as your withdrawal symptoms start to fade and color slowly bleeds back into the world, you still feel miserable. You’re exhausted and overworked. Life as an FBI agent is hard enough on a full ten hours of sleep and a complete breakfast. You’re lucky if you get five hours and a bite to eat on the way out of your house in the mornings. 
Throwing yourself into your work has never been a healthy solution to your problems, and this newest attempt is no exception. Bloodied, misshapen corpses follow you into your dreams and your waking mind. You can’t stop contemplating the nature of your existence—what has gifted you continued life, while children’s flames are brutally snuffed out without a moment’s hesitation. You’re going more and more fidgety as time passes—a confusing contradiction to the lethargy and fatigue that assault you the moment you wake. You’re trapped in a strange state of unreality, bogged down by reminders of the life you reunite with every morning. 
You can barely think straight. Your mind feels like a giant mess of a cobweb, with strings shooting around in all the wrong directions. There is no clear path to the answers you seek—and, frighteningly enough, you don’t think you can even remember why you want those answers in the first place. What are you fighting for? What are you running towards? Is this really your fate: waking up to fall asleep, avenging the dead to live? What happened to that determination from your training years—that visceral desire to push yourself up from the ground and keep at it? You can’t remember the last time you felt genuinely motivated to walk into work.
Even Jack has noticed your changes in behavior, but he’s so swamped in work that he never seems to address it. Besides, that responsibility isn’t his—you should know when you’ve reached your limits; you should be able to call things off when it gets to be too much. You’re an experienced agent by now—you should have some sort of process for all this. But you don’t have anything. Instead, you’re falling victim to a merciless cycle of hope and despair; anger and remorse; anticipation and apprehension. You’re fading, just as the lifeless corpses on the spotless lab tables.
It certainly doesn’t help that the newest murder comes with a frustrating lack of substantial evidence. Shattered mirror fragments can only reveal so much. Jack and you seem to come to the same troubling conclusion, as you lock eyes in the dim warmth of his office. 
“We need to talk to Hannibal,” you realize aloud. The recognition settles into the air uncomfortably. 
“I’m afraid so.” Jack appears resigned, but not defeated. The two of you both know that Hannibal likely has information. The only problem… is trying to get him to reveal it. “Would you like me to accompany you?” 
“No, I’ll be fine,” you deny the offer. Sensing that Jack is impatient, you push yourself out of your chair and head for the door—only for him to interject just before you can leave.
“Agent,” Jack remarks. You freeze and turn back around to face him, unsurprised to find a grave expression on his face. “Don’t let your guard down. He is not assisting us out of the goodness of his heart.”
Then why are we seeking him out again?  You think wryly. 
“I think you know we have few other options,” Jack responds. You hadn’t realized that you uttered that last thought aloud. “Believe me, I would love nothing more than to leave Lecter to rot in his cell. But this killer is far too similar to him. He will have valuable insight, even if he hasn’t revealed it yet.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “What if he never reveals it?”
“Then we’re in trouble,” Jack admits darkly. On that note, you leave his office and head out of the building. Once you make it to your car, you’re quick to pull out of the parking lot and begin the drive to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. You don’t have to use navigation to get there anymore—and that small realization is rather frightening. You never wanted this—never wanted him —to be a part of your life again. In the years following Hannibal’s surrender, your life was blissfully quiet. The voices in your head were subdued. Now, they’re back in full force—scolding you for everything you haven’t yet done. 
You go through the motions of the entrance procedure, coming back to yourself just a few steps from the door that leads to the corridor with Hannibal’s cell. You contemplate turning around and walking away, as you have done many times before. And, just as you always do, you reach out and open the door. The door lets out an ominous creak, betraying the fear and apprehension that keep you firmly frozen in the doorway.
Eventually, you somehow manage to convince yourself to keep moving forward. You take one step, then another, then another. Through this process, you find yourself standing in front of the ever-familiar glass-wall of the Ripper’s enclosure. You take a slow breath and attempt to steel your nerves, despite knowing the effort is futile. 
To your surprise, Hannibal doesn’t notice you right away. Instead, he seems to be looking at some sort of paper with rapt attention. You squint and attempt to get a glimpse of what he’s reading, only to recoil upon reading the headline. It’s an article from TattleCrime—the one about you that was published a few years ago. There’s a picture of you on the front cover—glancing off to the side with a stormy expression on your face, the scar ripping through your cheek fully visible—underneath a bolded headline speculating about the nature of your “relationship” with Hannibal. 
Fortunately, you haven’t been featured in TattleCrime since your unplanned friendship with Freddie. But seeing that paper in Hannibal’s hands transports you back in time: to a deceptive tranquility and a comfortable silence that clung to your home’s walls. You remember the feeling that stirred within you as you read the article for the first time. After all, back then, you were doing a rather good job at compartmentalizing any and all thoughts about Hannibal. But that article was the first to crack through the walls you erected and invade your mind with unwanted thoughts. 
When you remember your surroundings and refocus on Hannibal, you find that he’s already staring at you unabashedly. Your gaze falls to the paper in his hands and he makes no attempt of concealing it, instead offering you a smile and placing it on his desk. Something ticks in your jaw. You hold back any sharp remarks as Hannibal gets up from his chair, stalking over to stand across from you. His hands folded behind his back, he levels you with an intent look. He seems to be scrutinizing you—and it almost appears as if he doesn’t like whatever he finds. 
“You look…” Hannibal starts. You’re suddenly incredibly irritated. 
“Awful, I know,” you finish for him, sick of everyone you meet scrutinizing your appearance. Well, “everyone” is a bit of an exaggeration—a playful remark from Bev and a quick inquiry from Jack was all you really received. But you’ve noticed the wary glances that have been paid to you at crime scenes; the way everyone has been giving you a wide berth, as if waiting for you to snap and lash out. There aren’t any words that can overstate your exhaustion. 
“I was going to say exhausted,” Hannibal says with a thin smile. He pins you down with an attentive gaze. Your hand twitches at your side as you notice just how close he’s standing. Taking a deep breath, you try your best to maintain your composure and remain frozen where you are—even as your heart races along your skin. Your eyes are burning from fatigue. “How much sleep did you get last night?” He asks. 
“Is this a doctor’s appointment?” you snap bitterly. Hannibal doesn’t respond. You take a deep breath again, recognizing that he isn’t the source of your frustration. “…Three hours.” You decide to answer honestly, after a few moments of contemplation. There’s really no harm in providing him with such a useless detail. 
“Have you been having difficulty concentrating?” Hannibal hums, his gaze flitting about your face. He almost looks concerned. You may be tired, but you’re not dazed enough to mistake the turn of his lips as genuine distress. You cross your arms over your chest, then let them fall to your sides when you remember how much you’ve been doing that simple gesture in front of Hannibal—as if you’re attempting to shield yourself from him. The effort is futile, though. You have no agency in the affair—if Hannibal wants to know something, he will learn of it. “Memory problems? Worsened moods?” He presses. You’re idly reminded of his background as a surgeon… and then sickened by the subsequent contemplation of how many people he covertly harmed under the knife. 
You’re beginning to get a headache. Admittedly, you have been experiencing all of the symptoms he mentioned—in varying degrees of severity.  “What’s the prognosis?” You ask in lieu of providing an answer. Hannibal nods knowingly. He’s more than familiar with your avoidance, just as you are more than familiar with his loaded questions and ambiguous answers. 
“Sleep deprivation,” he remarks. You exhale in amusement. That’s far from a revolutionary diagnosis—you could’ve pieced that together yourself, even with your minimal medicinal knowledge. (After all, the FBI never taught you how to heal people–only how to hurt them.) “And the lingering traces of withdrawal. Why haven’t you been sleeping?” Hannibal continues.
“Nightmares,” you admit. A phantom shiver rolls down your spine, sending goosebumps across your arms. 
“About what?” Hannibal is practically leaning forward in interest. You don’t want to give him more ammunition, but damn it, you need information on the Tooth Fairy. And, perhaps, if you can get him in a good mood… then he’ll be a bit more forthcoming. After all, that’s what you’re here for… right? …Right?
“The newest victims,” You respond. Hannibal is staring at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to elaborate. Somehow, that’s when your mind shuts off and the desire to speak fades into obscurity. You settle for shaking your head silently, not wishing to summon more thoughts of bloodied stains splattered across homey walls. 
“Perhaps you should return home,” Hannibal suggests a moment later, clearly sensing that you would rather be anywhere else. You pay a fleeting glance at the security door from which you came, wishing you had such a luxury.
“No, I need to keep working on this,” you maintain. “Here.” You take a few steps to the side and slide a photo through the small mail slot. The photograph has been burning a hole in your pocket since you prepared for your visit here. And regardless of how many times you ran your fingers over it and ensured there wasn’t so much as a single paper clip attached to it, Hannibal’s predatory approach to the mail slot puts you on edge. Standing across from you once more, Hannibal looks down at the mail slot and stares down at the photograph. Your stomach churns as he takes it in his hands. But he barely gives it more than a second of his attention. Just as quickly as he picked the photo up, Hannibal places it back down in the slot. 
“I don’t wish to look at this,” he announces, sliding it back through the slot. 
You choke on a laugh. “What?” You stare at him in surprise. The expression on his face is completely blank. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.” You scoff and stare at him, irritation and helplessness assaulting you. 
“You need to go home, Detective.” Hannibal asserts, enunciating his words carefully. What is it with everyone treating you as if you’re made of glass? Do you really look that pathetic? Sure, you have impossibly dark circles under your eyes and a general sluggishness about you, but that doesn’t seem like cause for such concern. 
“The newest victims,” you continue determinedly, pretending as if he hadn’t spoken. “Another family, two parents, one child. Mirrors shattered. The wife had strangulation marks, bite marks on the neck.”
“Enough.” Hannibal orders, his voice cutting through the static in your mind. You blink and lurch forward, placing a hand on the glass to brace yourself as a wave of vertigo hits you. When your vision finally clears, you’re surprised to find Hannibal on the other side of the glass, his hand extended to match yours. There’s a stormy expression on his face. 
“Leave,” he says. “If you return well-rested, I will discuss the murder with you.” Hannibal doesn’t leave you much of a choice. If you want his perspective, you’re going to have to come back later. You grit your teeth and walk away, bidding him a quick goodbye and shoving your trembling hands in your pockets. 
Your suffering doesn’t end there, however, as you nearly crash into Frederick Chilton on your way out. He steadies you with hands on your shoulders, looking at you intently. “Lecter seems worried about you,” he prompts. 
“Hm?” You ask, admittedly zoned out.
“Lecter seems worried about you,” Chilton repeats, his brows furrowing. 
You squint at him in disbelief. “Sure,” you decide to say, if only to appease Chilton. Unfortunately, Frederick Chilton must be the densest person on the planet, because he refuses to drop the subject. 
“I have to admit, you look tired,” Chilton says after a moment. Somehow, the look on your face must be enough to convince him that you don’t want to talk, because he holds his hands up in surrender.  “Alright, I won’t fight you on this. Get home and get some rest.” 
You mutter a goodbye and head back to your car. The ride home is uneventful, save for your eyes stinging with exhaustion. Unfortunately, you don’t get rest. Rather, you find yourself sitting across from Jack as he brainstorms a way to draw the Tooth Fairy out of hiding. It’s clear that the killer will continue to kill every full moon, and you’re regretfully lacking in evidence. If you don’t have a new lead soon, another group of innocent people will die. The thought keeps you tossing and turning that night, until you’re walking into the bureau the following morning with a renewed vigor. You restlessly ruminated over the Tooth Fairy murders that night, neglecting sleep in favor of attempting to dissect the same few pieces of evidence again. Is it insanity to do the same thing over and over again, expecting different results? You’re not sure. 
Regardless, you do come to some sort of conclusion. It doesn't necessarily have to do with the existing evidence; rather, you have an idea of how to draw the Tooth Fairy out of hiding. You tell Jack as much that early morning, and he looks at you tiredly over his mug of steaming hot coffee. He eventually places the drink aside and asks you to elaborate. 
You go through your existing characterization of the Tooth Fairy, starting with what he looks like and moving on to his personality. There, you remind Jack of the man’s pride—and how that pride and arrogance led you to develop an idea. At that point, Jack is practically foaming at the mouth with how much you’ve been leading him on. You eventually abandon pretense and tell him outright. 
“I think we should set up a TattleCrime article,” you say. “In it, we’ll characterize him to be a sexual deviant and a monster, amongst other things. Then, when he sees the article—which he will—he’ll take out his anger on the closest target.”
“Which is…?” Jack trails off, staring at you expectantly. You gesture to yourself and understanding passes over his face. He contemplates the idea for several minutes, his hands folded in front of him as his elbows rest on his desk. You almost want to accuse him of being distracted, but it’s clear from the look in his eyes that he’s meticulously analyzing the plan you’re suggesting. You both know it’s risky, but at this point, you don’t feel as if you have a choice. You need to catch this guy—or, hell, at least get something on him.
Hours later, you find yourself in a conference room at the Bureau with a rather unique group of individuals: Jack, of course; Freddie Lounds, journalist for TattleCrime; and Frederick Chilton, the head administrator at the Baltimore State Hospital of the Criminally Insane. The four of you quickly review the basic information on the Tooth Fairy, before Jack takes the lead with creating a suitable narrative for the story. Freddie types notes rapidly on her laptop, while Chilton divides his attention between staring at you and providing unwanted commentary to Jack. 
Then comes the fun part: inventing provocative remarks about the killer. It isn’t exactly hard to do, considering the mirror fragments he always leaves behind. The Tooth Fairy is a man deeply wounded inside—longing for acceptance amidst a society and world that doesn’t understand him. That’s the sugarcoated way to put it. 
“He is a sexual deviant,” you say, the words practically slipping from your lips of their own accord. “A predator that preys on innocent people and gets off on killing women because that is the only time when he is able to exude power and authority. In all other aspects, I daresay he is small—in stature and in presence. He is hopelessly insecure, and seeks external enlightenment to mask his many flaws.” If there’s one generalization that can be made about the Tooth Fairy’s ego, it is that he loathes being underestimated, objectified, and otherwise scrutinized. No doubt these comments will drive him absolutely crazy. At least, that’s your hope. And judging from the somewhat surprised and impressed look on Jack’s face, you think your statements are suitable. After all, if the killer is secretly as fragile as you suspect him to be,  he will take offense at virtually any insult—even if there isn’t a grain of truth in it. 
Some time later, Freddie has gathered everything she needs for the article—save for an accompanying photo. She seems to think that a picture of Chilton and you will do nicely, and Jack agrees. Outnumbered, you suppress your objections and stand next to Chilton. Freddie adjusts the angle and the camera flashes, freezing everything around you. A feeling you thought to be vanquished has just reared its ugly head: fear. You will be faced with the brunt of this killer’s attack, unless you somehow divert it. 
In a spur of the moment decision, you clap a hand on Chilton’s shoulder. Admittedly, the physical contact is entirely purposeful and pointed. Through the gesture, you’re forging an association in the killer’s mind and passing off the blame to Chilton himself. If you’ve characterized the killer accurately so far, there’s a good chance he’ll take his anger out on Chilton. 
The irony is not lost on you. When you were held captive by Abel Gideon and forced to point a gun at Frederick, you couldn’t take the shot. You had pushed him to the floor and inadvertently saved his life. Now, you’re holding the gun… and you’ve just fired the trigger. 
You tilt your head in what feels like slow motion to look at Chilton. Suddenly you can see him lying dazed on the kitchen floor, eyes glazed and hazily crooning at you, “See?” Suddenly there’s a bullet carved neatly through his temple, and his body lurches backwards and falls to the floor of the dimly lit hallway of that crumbling house you were trapped in. Suddenly he’s ripping his way out of a horse’s womb, covered in blood and guts, and you’re firing at him with nothing but rage in your heart… 
You blink again and look ahead. The camera flashes once more, sending dizzying spirals across your vision. 
You just sent Frederick Chilton to the gallows.
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next chapter
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endnotes: I really don’t think I did the TattleCrime article justice. In the TV show, Will goes OFF on the Tooth Fairy and it’s savage as hell.
Recent movies/shows I've watched: Chucky (1-3), Halloween 2 (the bloody tears almost made me cry), Late Night with the Devil, and The Patient (went back and finished it; it was fucking awesome)
thanks for reading!
look forward to a new POV in the next chapter Ψ(`_´ # )↝
hannibal taglist: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69 @flow33didontsmoke @mrgatotortuga @house-of-1000-corpses-fan
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utilitycaster · 4 months
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i've seen some people say kipperlilly is neurodivergent but it's more them being like BUT THE RATGRINDERS ARE KIDS!!! and it's like yeah??? so are most of the characters in this show? it's set in high school? penelope everpetal is in hell right now? so idk why THESE kids are being treated differently
RIGHT.
I'm trying to answer a question about both the D20 discourse and the CR discourse but like. There is a post going around in the CR fandom about how it doesn't make sense to apply real-world morality to ttrpgs, which firstly is not entirely wrong but it's much more complicated than that and secondly and more importantly I'd take it way more seriously if it weren't coming from the people who threw a fit when I said that treating Imogen's powers as a metaphor for real-world queerness is reductive and stupid and who keep treating Orym's status as a guard as a member of like, the US Military. The real answer is "D&D settings have their own moral framework, and you need to make arguments based on those, rather than the real world, but there is often some overlap."
I think, as your post points out, this is one of those cases where you do need to work within the moral framework of the show. Penelope is in hell. It is a show about teenage adventurers. Two of the Bad Kids died in the second episode, famously. While I suspect they'd never cross the line of like, a serious romantic or sexual relationship between and adult and one of the high schoolers, in basically any other context the students of the Aguefort Academy are treated as children or adults based on, essentially, which is funnier. The way to get your magic GED is to battle monsters to the death. The way to graduate is to go on a full D&D adventure. It's normal for a high school senior to have access to like, Power Word Kill. The premise of this world is "D&D but in a John Hughes movie setting" and the premise of a lot of D&D is "killing your enemies is part of the story." Like, I've said this before (as has Brennan) but a big appeal of D&D is that you don't need to be patient and send a polite email and let the person who dangerously cut you off on the highway merge in because otherwise you'll get in an accident and smile through the microagressions (let alone put up with larger injustices); you can just straight up kill your way through problems and wake up the next morning fresh and refreshed with full HP and 8 hours of sleep behind you. You don't have to swallow your anger; you can cast fireball on a bitch. As I've also said before, if your entire table likes finding peaceful solutions in D&D, fine, play that way, but I came here to cast fireball and I find you preachy, boring, and stupid.
The rules of this world are "teens are full-blown adventurers and are treated as such." The Rat Grinders are on the same footing as the Bad Kids; there is no imbalance of power here (indeed, they even have the favor of some teachers themselves)! Yeah, if the Bad Kids were actually a bunch of 30-somethings this would play much differently but if they're their classmates? go off.
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More celebration shenanigans 💕
Jake + fluff numbers 2, 7, & 8!
Love you baby 🐿️!
Xoxo Mama May
Ooh, Jake fluff shenanigans? Ask and you shall receive, Mama May! I hope you enjoy this combination between “You’re beautiful, you know that, right?”, Person A stealing person B’s sweater/clothes and Having a tender moment in the early morning. This is so fluffy and sweet, I think it's going to give me cavities! Enjoy!
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Oh, Sweet Baby of Mine
You hate waking up in the mornings, especially on days when you'd slept terribly the night before. You'd been up every couple of hours all night, walking up and down the hallway cradling your bump while avoiding those spots where the hardwood floor creaked and groaned. It wasn't indigestion or the baby completing a Cirque du Soleil routine against your bladder. Those were normal, and most of the time, the baby slept as long as your husband’s hand was over the bump now that they were older. Truthfully, you’ve been on edge for a while. You’re 35 weeks pregnant, and nothing feels right anymore. Your skin is stretched paper-thin across your bump, so thin you can trace the bludgeoning bumps of little hands and feet as they prod at the external stimuli. You can’t see your feet anymore, your ankles are swollen, and everything hurts.
And you’re exhausted all the time. Of course, it takes you ten minutes to settle into a position where you and the baby are comfortable, and Jake can slide an arm around your non-existent waist. You’d think your exhaustion would be enough to send you to sleep. Not true. Not true at all. You’d spent fifteen minutes staring at the wall before your eyes fluttered closed, only to wake up a few hours later. That cycle had repeated until around 4 in the morning when you’d finally slept, only to be woken up by Jake’s alarm two and a half hours later. When he’d crawled out of your bed and pressed a kiss to your head, you’d craned your head in his direction and hissed like a feral cat. 
“M’sorry, darlin’. I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out for my run and will bring breakfast for you and our kiddo when I return. I love you!” He’d sounded so amused as he’d walked away, his pert ass on display in the sinfully tight shorts he insisted on wearing to run in each morning. It was a habit he kept even on weekend mornings when his wife was warm and waiting in his bed, and an early source of strife in your marriage. Your resulting response was a growl you know turned into a snore as you fell back asleep. Did you forget to mention the snoring? With Baby Seresin all up in your business, breathing while standing up was hard. Forget while you were on your side.
When you wake up this time, you feel better, if only because long fingers are on your feet, massaging all the knots from your swollen ankles.
“Jake?” Your voice is soft, sleep still clouding every sense as you melt into the mattress.
 “Yeah, darlin’. I’m back. I brought breakfast for you and the kiddo and your favorite herbal tea blend. And coffee for Daddy.” His voice never fails to make you smile, even when you’re a million years pregnant and feeling like a whale. 
You brace yourself on his forearm and carefully lever yourself up. Jake is, as expected, golden and gorgeous, and sweaty. It makes you long for the days you weren’t carrying a watermelon-sized child around in your body. The early days of your marriage and even the early days of your pregnancy had resulted in many a romp with your sweaty husband in the sheets, shower, and kitchen counter when he returned from his run. Now, you can’t even think of it. The baby is in the way, and as much as you love them, they get in the way of all your Mommy and Daddy time. 
It’s also not often that you’re in the mood anymore. You’re too pregnant, round, exhausted, and bloated to even think about it very often. It makes you huff as you scrounge around in the dresser for a sweater of Jake’s you can steal. Yours are all too uncomfortable, and Jake’s are perfectly soft and loose. You drag out his Longhorns hoodie and pull it on over your lace cami and shorts.
“You’re beautiful, you know that, right?” His voice is reverent as he pulls you into his arms, carefully sliding his hands under the orange fabric so he can draw your belly up just until it takes the pressure off of your frame.
Your sigh as you melt into his skin is indecent. You can feel the ever-present ache in your shoulders and back ease as he takes the baby’s weight. You tip your head back to kiss Jake’s jaw, nuzzling further into his arms. He releases his hold on your stomach after about five minutes, pressing a kiss into the top of your head before taking your hand in his. 
“Breakfast, darlin’?” He’s got this admiring, possessive look in his eyes, one you adore and only see more as your belly grows.
“Yeah, Jake. Momma and Baby are both hungry. What’d you bring us?” He’s got eagle eyes on you as you carefully waddle your way down the stairs.
“I bought those bagel sandwiches that bubba was craving a few days ago. On yours, I have chicken sausage, egg, and cheese. To go with it, I got those spicy Jalapeno home fries with that cheesy chipotle sauce you drown everything in. And your tea, of course.”
Your tongue waters at the thought of getting breakfast in your mouth. So much so that you don’t even wait to sit at the table before you unwrap your sandwich and take a colossal bite. Jake’s eating at a much more measured pace standing next to you. It’s a few minutes before you slow down. Jake’s grinning fondly at you when you turn to him. 
“Darlin’, you’ve got a little something smeared on your cheek.” You scrunch your nose before dragging the napkin holder towards yourself and dragging a napkin over your entire face.
“Did I get it?” Your voice is a little sheepish as you hand him another napkin.
His voice is tender as he drags you close, tipping your face up and swabbing at your cheeks before slanting his mouth over yours. You can feel the cool metal of his ring against your cheek as you kiss him back with everything you have.
“God, Mr. Seresin. What was that for?” You’re a little breathless when he finally lets you go.
“For making me the happiest man in the world. I love you, Mrs. Seresin.” You kiss him one more time before cuddling into his arms and continuing to eat your breakfast. You love Jake with all your heart, and you love these early mornings with him even more, no matter how terribly you’ve slept or how early they have to be. You’re looking forward to these sleepy breakfasts even once your baby is born.
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cybercasket · 2 months
Text
Sally Williams headcanons
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(CW for discussion of coping with death + trauma. I go in-depth into Sally's mentality towards what happened, but I don't talk about the trauma itself.)
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To start things off, this is based off of Sally's official character sheets (2017/most recent sheet) (2013) and what I remember from the story more than they are the fandom's perception of her. These headcanons might make more sense if you check those out first!
🧸 According to her creator La-Mishi-Mish, her body's age can change. She's chronologically in her 60s, mentally + spiritually 12 (her age at death), and typically appears 8. She used to have the ability to turn any age she wanted, but it got retconned because La-Mishi-Mish kept getting called out for being irresponsible and creepy with it.
So, I think that Sally's form can shift ages to some extent, though it's mostly subconscious and based on her state of mind. It's a little bit like the early Steven Universe episode "So Many Birthdays" except a bit more stable.
🎀 Sally is actually deathly afraid of becoming older, and does everything she can to maintain the persona of an innocent 8 year old girl.
To her, 8 was one of the last few good years of her short life--afterwards is when everything became bad and wrong, and she was subject to so much judgement, criticism, responsibility, and predatory behavior from the people around her that she couldn't handle at the time.
She's afraid that being much older than 8 will make her a target.
🎠 Sally romanticizes being younger a lot, though she also likes the way it makes other people perceive her. By behaving more incompetent, temperamental, and oblivious than she really is, she can make people believe that she's cute, innocent, and incapable of wrong. She has a strong internalized belief that being older is dangerous, while being younger is safe.
🧸 She age regresses intentionally (from 12 to 8) by heavily focusing on her more childish interests (eg. Dolls, girl toys, and princesses) and by pushing away/repressing parts of her that she seems too mature or grown-up (eg. Certain words, ways of speaking, and knowledge/awareness she has).
🎀 According to her creator, Sally spends a lot of time in the woods near her house playing with kids at the local playground.
I think she is absolutely DEDICATED to the act of being a completely normal 8 year old girl. She'll bandage the bleeding from her head, watch all their shows, learn all their games and slang, and even collect the toys they like so she can fit in and play with them.
🎠 Lately though, she's been having to tell kids that her parents don't let her use her iPad much. There's always a bit of an adjustment period for her between each new generation of kids, but she really struggles to wrap her head around Gen Alpha's modern technology.
🧸 Speaking of technology... She's not good at it. For a long time she didn't really bother to learn since stuff like computers and phones were associated with older people, and her not knowing how to use them fed into an image of her being cute and childlike. However, it's genuinely bewildering and confusing to her.
🎀 Do NOT play Roblox with her, it will take 20 minutes for her to join your game and she won't know the first thing about how to play it 😭😭😭. Though with enough patience, you could probably get her hooked on something like Adopt Me.
She's not good at other games either, though she usually doesn't try in competitive video games (eg. Mario Kart) on purpose because she doesn't really understand them, and likes seeing how happy the people she's playing with get when they win :-).
🎠 She has a ton of excuses memorized for why her parents are never there with her at the playground, and why the parents of other kids can't meet her parents.
Sometimes it doesn't work out so well, and she has to spend a few hours trying to find a way to wiggle out of a missing person's report... She usually hangs out farther away from where the adults are to avoid ending up in awkward situations like that.
🧸 Over time, her perception of her years from 0-8 and her years from 9-12 became really polarized--in her mind, her younger years were all really good, happy, and romanticized, and her older years were completely terrible and miserable.
Like, in her head 1st and 2nd grade were happy and peaceful, meanwhile 4th and 5th grade were completely miserable and that's when her life became terrible. Realistically there was good and bad in both, but she isn't able to see it that way.
🎀 Everything past 9 for her is a blur until she has to connect with people closer to her death age, which then makes her shift her physical appearance back to where it'd normally sit. Her older years become a little bit easier to process in that state.
She tries to act a bit more like a "big kid" to fit in, but she's extremely out of practice since she's almost always acting 8, so she ends up coming off a bit immature.
🎠 She misremembers herself dying younger often.
🧸 She doesn't like throwing temper-tantrums (especially around strangers) because it's difficult to tell how people will react to them, however she plans them out strategically and WILL have them if it means she gets what she wants. She represses a lot of her emotions and releases them during these (Though she does have plenty of genuine breakdowns as well, since she's mentally 12 and has been suffering from PTSD and depression for the past 50 or so years.)
🎀 Maintaining her appearance as a young girl takes stamina/energy, though being 12 takes the least because it's more authentic to her.
🎠 According to Sally's creator, she also haunts her childhood home. I think her house is her safe space where she can be herself without worrying about how she's perceived by others.
It's really messy (she's a bit of a hoarder and only cleans when the mess becomes inconvenient to her,) and she has a huge collection of toys and books.
🧸 Her toy collection spans multiple decades, and she even still has some toys from back when she was alive deep in her collection somewhere in terrible condition. She doesn't usually have whole sets, just a few pieces here and there she decided to keep from the people she plays with (whether they left them at the playground or she decides to pocket something small she likes but the other kid doesn't seem to care about while they're playing) or from CVS or something.
🎀 Sally really likes reading, but she's a little self-conscious about it because she likes to read books that are far above the reading level and outside of the interests of the average 8 year old, like Pride and Prejudice. She also likes watching old movies from the 50s, 60s, and 70s, and has a secret obsession with Marilyn Monroe.
She also likes reading romance, but sex scenes trigger the hell out of her so when she comes across one, she gets out a giant black crayon (because black covers the words the best,) and just starts madly scribbling over it.
🎠 Sally likes horror a little bit too, because darker stories and themes often reflect how miserable she feels deep down. However, since she's 12 and doesn't have a large capacity for tolerating the heavier stuff, she usually keeps it light.
Most of it isn't worth much, but there's probably a couple things that are like $200 or something and she has no idea because she barely uses the internet.
🧸 When she runs out of stamina or gets too triggered, her body morphs into a very pale, bony, frail old woman with sunken cheeks. It's terrifying for both her and whoever witnesses it.
🎀 She doesn't kill, but I feel like it's less of a morality thing and more because she's too squeamish and also terrified of the consequences of getting aggressive/violent with someone who ends up attacking her back. Rapists in particular make her angry enough to almost want to kill.
🎠 She's emotionally attached to and chases Ben, but he doesn't reciprocate it. They're both technically the same age (both being dead at 12), but while Sally embraces her childishness and immaturity almost to a fault, Ben is deeply ashamed of and uncomfortable with his which leads to him feeling easily annoyed or disgusted by Sally. Basically, Ben is too much of an "Ew, that's for babies" type of kid to enjoy playing with Sally 😭😭.
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princesscolumbia · 5 months
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It's been...
So something happened a week ago that is neither bad nor good, it simply is, and it's happened before, so thankfully the knowledge exists on how to manage and cope.
Now to explain.
Back in the 80s I experienced some mental trauma that hurt me so significantly I wound up 'splitting' into what we now call a system or a plural (I've also seen "plurality"). By the time I was in my early 20s, there were about 8-9 people rattling around in my head and the ones that got the driver's seat had proper names. Of course, at the time we only had Sybil as an "example" of "multiple personality disorder," so people like me kept our damn mouth's SHUT 'cause we knew the second we showed any sign of being neurodivergent in any way that resembled schizophrenic, we'd be marginalized HARD. The person in the driver's seat always (always) responded to my given name and assigned pronouns and never let slip there were whole conversations going on in my head as I was going about my day.
Around the middle 00s there began appearing in online spaces, mostly instant messaging spaces and BBS forums, where people began to express themselves as "multiples" and, I'll confess, the system that was me had too much programmed fear to be one (heh) of those brave souls. Nonetheless I started to see the acceptance (and the pushback) that has become more commonplace today.
Between 2015-2019 I experienced trauma so severe I was in CPTSD hyperarousal for a good chunk of it, which pretty much shattered my mental landscape. I was mentally just completely broken and had no way of really paying attention to more than the moment I was in. By the time I emerged from the 'fog,' I was functionally a 'singleton,' that is, not a system.
Starting earlier this year, there were a few signs that, in retrospect, should have made me well aware of something coming. I started feeling 'foggy' again, but I thought that was the depression and insomnia. The depression and insomnia were major contributors, as well, and REALLY should have been a wake-up call...but that's depression for you. I think the biggest "20/20 hindsight" indicator was starting to write "Double Isekai," a story about a single person who winds up isekai'ing into two people. This was in March.
One week ago yesterday I was in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher when I started, for lack of a better term, talking to myself and expecting an answer. I actually had the thought, "Things would sure be easier if I was a system again."
Considering I'm a transwoman and, with slightly different wording, that's classic egg behavior, the penny dropped and I figured out what was going on.
One week ago plus a few hours I sat my GF down and explained what happened back then, what was happening now, and that I was likely to 'split' soon. She just...accepted it. Barely batted an eye, made sure she still had the right pronouns, and went back to her computer.
I was so relieved I nearly cried. Before the divorce when I'd tried to 'come out' as a system to my then-wife, she had NOT reacted well. (And, in retrospect, it makes more sense how upset she was with me that I seemed so, in her words, "unreliable and inconsistent." All she ever knew of me was a 'guy' who kept changing behavior patterns in, to her, random ways)
As though my GF's acceptance were like permission, the split...happened. I could almost physically feel my head-mate separating from me.
And, as I'm sure you've guessed, I've been writing as though it was me going through all of this, and, more or less, it has. Since this split wasn't due to trauma and had been developing over time, it was far more organic and gentle. There wasn't a horrible tear where suddenly there's this nasty, goth punk with a scar around one eye, a penchant for black leather, and absolutely zero compunction to kill because of how traumatic the creation event was (yes, that was one of my alts in my original system, she was a nasty piece of work that never got a name and was never allowed the driver's seat, but did she ever enjoy hurting our stepmother) We both are full participating members with equal access to all our previous memories, even if we're looking at our past self with different lenses.
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That's right, Bunnies, I'm back! The EGS fandom will know the name Helen from my days as "Dame Helen the Leather-clad." Even though I'm knight-emeritus now, I'm still quite proud of what we did during those years of the Order of the Bunny. Still she/her, still so very, very sapphic, and still a bit of a useless lesbian.
That said, there's been some changes.
I'm a dragon, along the lines of the crazy-famous Dragon HRT comic that's been super popular this year. If the body were mine alone and Dragon HRT were a real thing, I'd be partially covered in scales by now. I'm not as into gaming and music and art as my new other half is or the old me was. I'm a mother where the previous alt to bear my name was still trying to figure out how to people, and I'm the one with the head for numbers and driving and focusing on work. Also, even though I'm a woman with she/her pronouns, I'm NB and what might be called 'intersex' or 'futanari,' depending on what generation you're in and what part of the Internet you spend most of your time in.
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Yes, I know, not a terribly creative name if you know my given name, but it's the one I chose when I emerged. I started out as what us systems call a fictive. If you go back into some of the comments sections on our writing on AO3, you can see references to proto-me scattered around and referred to as "the little author that lives in my head and looks an awful lot like Ranma-chan." On a somewhat silly note, though the pre-fully-realized version of me served as a sort of mental author for our previously unified self, I'm not the writer. That's Helen.
She/her, all girl, and SUPER sex-positive! I'm a bit (I'll confess) of a horny slut and since I'm bi/pan and Helen pretty much gave me control of the NSFW blog, you're probably going to start seeing more guys there than have shown up in the past. I've got a 'type,' though, and that type does NOT include facial hair or bears.
I can't STAND office work! One of our top priorities right now is to get something else...ANYTHING else to earn money so we can drop the office job we've been doing. It's boring anyway! I wanna get started on streaming, though I will NOT be streaming Star Trek: Fleet Command! That game is a bag of stress and I don't know how Helen plays it without wanting to hurt someone!
One thing that is pretty much ALL me is I like fitness! Before we knew fitness was good and it was something we learned to appreciate, but when I got all that I also got a LOVE for it! I can't wait to get back out there and run again! (...but it's getting into the hot season in Arizona, so we may not be able to just yet)
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One amusing thing about this is we both realized we're redheads. The body is, sadly, very blond, but now we've got our first body mod goal we can both agree on and get behind.
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Speaking of body mods, we're getting booba! I'm tired of being tiny in the chest 'cause of lousy genetics and craptastic HRT timing! We talked about it and our second major shared goal is saving up for top surgery. And we both want FFS and facial hair removal. Basically, I'm in charge of the body, which means FITNESS UPDATES!
That's right, I'm gonna be one of those annoying running fanatics and there's nothing you can do to stop me! 😆😆😆
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In any case, expect changes as we figure things out. One thing we didn't really expect that has, nonetheless, had a pretty major impact is our energy level. It takes A LOT of sugars to keep us both going! There've been times one of us has basically taken a nap just to keep from burning too many calories before the end of the day.
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Oh, and do you like these identifier bars? I made 'em! Turns out I'm the artist! If you want your own version for you and/or your alts, check out my new store on ko-fi!
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coneyislandbabey · 1 year
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my back is broad, but it's a-hurtin'. -> e. roundtree
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WARNINGS: profanities, sexual tension lol
SYNOPSIS: The push and pull between you and Eddie Roundtree was never-ending. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, you always came back together. word count: 2,120
NOTES: this is part 2/8 of the beast of burden series. Part one can be found here!
Pittsburgh, 1969
“What do you think of her?” Warren asked. You, him, and Eddie were standing in a row against the bar of the nightclub you’d be playing a couple hours later. He was staring in the direction of the stage, where Billy stood messing around with the microphone, his new girlfriend, Camila, standing on the floor in front of him, angling her camera up to capture him in photos. 
“I like her,” you responded. She’d only been hanging around a week or two at that point, but she was kind even while being a little bossy. She had the kind of attitude a girl needed to have any kind of equal partnership with a guy like Billy Dunne, surely. 
“Yeah, but I don’t think she’ll last long,” Eddie said from your other side. That was a fair assessment. Billy had gone through quite the impressive string of girlfriends, just in the two years you’d been with the band. They stuck around for a few weeks, a month or two tops, and then they were gone, and Billy would start bringing around a new one.
“I don’t know,” you hum. “Seems like maybe it’s different this time.” You hoped it would be, at least. You really liked Camila, she got involved and tried to get to know the rest of you guys a lot more than any of the other girls Billy had brought around. She didn’t know much about the technical side of the music, but she made up for that in enthusiasm. Plus, it would be nice to have another girl around, in a more permanent sense. You’d known that rock music, and The Dunne Brothers band itself, were a real boys’ club, but man did it really fucking feel extra like a boys’ club sometimes. 
“I hope she stays. She got us that spot in the paper last week,” Warren said. That was true, too. Camila would come along to every gig and take photos the whole time, and then submit them to the local papers to try to get the band a little spot in the ink. It didn’t work, usually, but you all got lucky with the last one. It was more than surreal to see the shot of the five of you up on stage, rendered in newsprint black and white. 
Things were picking up, in a subtle way, sure, but a way none of you could ignore. You were booking more gigs, more people in the area were recognizing you. Hell, you were getting out of Pittsburgh fairly often, booking in Ocean City and Philly and Wilmington and a half dozen other places. It felt good. Really fucking good. It felt like you were proving your talent, your worth in this band, with every crowded and well-received show you performed. 
“Alright, sound check!” Billy called from the stage, gathering your attention. “We’re just gonna do one song and make sure everything is good.” 
You pushed off the bar and made your way to the stage, slinging your bass over your torso as you went. 
“Let’s do When the Sun Shines on You, yeah?” Billy asked, stepping up to the mic. You all started in on the song, and you immediately lost yourself in playing your bass. As usual, as the song progressed, you and Eddie seemed to drift nearer and nearer to each other on the stage. Your parts, musically, already played off of each other so often, so it only made sense to you that it was reflected physically. It was as if you and Eddie were playing to each other, or at each other, a frenetic conversation. During the more intense songs, you would drift so close that your hands almost bumped each other whilst playing, before you’d sweep around and head back to your side of the stage.
When the song was done and the sound was thoroughly checked, you sat your bass down and stretched your arms over your head. The guys vacated the stage quickly, but you came to sit on the edge, swinging your legs and looking out at the venue, where the employees were readying the space to open soon. Shortly after you sat down, Camila ambled over to you, her camera dangling from a strap around her neck and a sly smile on her face. 
“Hey, Camila,” you smiled, nodding at her. 
“Hey,” she said brightly. “So.” 
The way she drew out ‘so’ into three syllables was incredibly suggestive, and you only raised your eyebrow at her in question. She stepped closer, lowering her voice as if she was about to impart a secret. “What’s the deal with you and Eddie?”
For a moment, all you could do was blink at her. “What?”
“Oh, come on,” she scoffed. “I think every stranger in this building could tell there’s something there. So, what is it? Are you guys a thing?”
You burst out into bright, sharp laughter, shaking your head. “God, no, Cami, it’s not like that at all. There’s nothing going on between me and Eddie.”
Camila weathered you with a stare, both unimpressed and unconvinced. “Right. Sure. I have never seen two people behave the way you do when there's ‘nothing going on’.”
You laughed again, deftly changing the subject to talk about her and Billy, hoping to god that your cheeks weren’t dark with blush. Were you that obvious with your crush on him? The thought was so mortifying that it made you want to die. For a while, you had managed to convince yourself that it was a minute, meaningless thing, your crush. That it had only come to be because he’d helped you learn those songs back in ‘67, helped you earn your spot in the band. You had assumed it would go away after a while, but it didn’t. All it did was grow into something more pathetic and embarrassing every time you saw him, because there was no way he was experiencing the same turmoil over your relationship, and more importantly, there was no way you could act on your feelings even if he was. 
Later, the whole group of you were hanging out in your garage, getting drunk off the cases of beers Warren bought immediately after you left the gig. You were curled up on the middle cushion of your ratty leather couch, feet tucked up underneath you and a beer nestled in your lap. Graham was on one side of you, fast asleep on the arm of the couch, his own empty beer bottle having fallen from his prone hand and rolled away. Eddie sat on the other side of you, one arm stretched on the back of the couch behind you, his thigh touching yours. Billy was drunkenly playing some old nursery song on Graham’s guitar, and Warren was loudly (and also drunkenly) cheering along with it. 
Camila, who was sitting on the rug next to Billy, caught your eye from across the room. She looked pointedly from you to Eddie and back to you, quirking an eyebrow in a silent question. You narrowed your eyes at her in return, imperceptibly shaking your head. She shot you a disbelieving look, but dropped it for the moment. 
“I’m starving,” Warren said suddenly, hand to his stomach. 
“Of course you’re starving, man, you’ve got the munchies,” Eddie laughed. 
“My stomach is eating itself,” he responded pitifully. 
You rolled your eyes at his antics, but you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. “Alright, I hear you. I’ll go get you a snack.”
“I love you more than anyone else here,” Warren said emphatically as you stood, and you just laughed at him, ruffling his hair as you passed him. 
“I’ll help you carry stuff out,” Eddie announced, getting up to follow you across the yard and to the house. 
You walked up the back steps, before stopping abruptly at the door and peering inside to see if any lights were on. Not expecting your sudden stop, Eddie walked directly into you. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, but you couldn’t help but acutely notice how close to you he stayed. 
“Okay, my whole family is asleep in there,” you said, turning around to face him. You were standing so close that your face almost met his chest before you looked up. “That means we have to be absolutely silent on this mission.”
“Mission?” he asked, amused. 
“Yes. The very important mission of providing famine relief to the dying Warren Rojas,” you nodded solemnly. 
“If you want me to be quiet, you have to stop being funny.”
“I can’t help my charisma, you’ll just have to be strong, Eddie boy,” you responded, and he nodded seriously, doing his best to keep a straight face. In your drunken state, you fumbled with the knob of the door trying to get in, and cursed yourself for the noise. Your parents knew about the band by now, obviously, and being as you were an adult at this point, it was not like they could stop you from being in the band even if they wanted to. However, you weren’t exactly of age quite yet, and if they found you standing in the kitchen, drunk and with a boy they weren’t fond of at that, you’d have hell to pay.  
Finally, you managed the knob and swung the door open slowly. You turned to Eddie and pointed to the pantry, mouthing the word ‘chips’ to him. He nodded, tip-toeing his way over in exaggerated movements that made you want to fall to the floor with laughter. Instead, you turned your back to him and headed toward the fridge, intent on grabbing some of the water bottles that your parents kept on top of it. You were able to reach one, but the rest had been pushed further back by someone, and your fingertips could only brush the plastic, not grasp them. Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you, and you turned to see Eddie watching you struggle. 
“Let me help,” he whispered, stepping forward and reaching above your head. His free hand went to your waist to balance himself as the other grabbed enough bottles for the group, passing them down to you one by one. You did your best to ignore his hand, to ignore the way it set every single nerve ending of yours on fire. When he was done grabbing water bottles, you turned around to go, but Eddie didn’t move. Moments passed, and the two of you stood there facing each other in the dark of the kitchen. Dimly, you were aware that Eddie’s hand was still on your waist. It would be so easy, you thought, to cross the mere inches between you and just kiss him the way you’d imagined doing dozens of times before. It would be so easy to just drop all of the water bottles on the floor and grasp his face instead, so easy to– 
But no. The only thing that could come out of you making a move on Eddie or him making a move on you would be teasing from the rest of the band, probably even them suspecting that the only reason Eddie suggested you for bassist way back when was because he had a thing for you, not because you were talented. But you were talented. That was why you got the spot in the band. It didn’t matter how true that was, though; the minute you became anything other than one of the guys here, your very integrity would be questioned. 
You stepped backward until your back was against the fridge, putting some space between the two of you. Eddie cleared his throat, the sound impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet room, and stepped back as well. This had been your dance for the last two years; get close, closer than close, tip-toe right up to the edge until all there was to do was take the leap or fall backwards. Every time, for one fleeting moment, you thought you’d finally decide to take the leap, but you never did. And neither did he. So, the dance continued. 
“Let’s get out of here before my parents wake up,” you said, and Eddie nodded, turning around to lead you back to the kitchen door. When you got back to the garage, the two of you distributed chips and water, before sitting back down on the couch. Eddie’s arm stretched back out along the back of the couch, your thighs touching. Just like you had been before. Just like nothing at all had changed. Because nothing had, had it? Nothing ever did. You couldn’t decide if that thought was a relief, or a thorn digging ever deeper under your skin.
tag list: @eonnyx @celestialstar111 @whataloadofmalarkey @sapphiclm
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habken · 1 year
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Just- how long does it take you to just draw? Because the sheer amount of details you put and the coloring must take ages
I mean ofc it depends in the piece, but like aprox?? In a fully rendered piece?? Just how
It really does depend haha and I’m super bad at judging time, so I just have guesses and approximations on how long stuff took but I can try and give examples!
It’s long so I’m putting them under the cut
Usually sketches and the busts I do with a bunch of different expressions take the shortest amount of time, something like the nimona sketches I did took maybe an hour or two ? Sometimes takes a bit longer if it’s a character I’m unfamiliar with because I want to make sure I have their design right and also that I’m illustrating their personality in a more or less accurate way.
The drawings with Kaminari, I think those took 5-7 hours?? Again super hard for me to figure out exact times cause I don’t really keep track of it and I like wandering in the middle of drawing so my sense of time is real bad. The expressions probably were an hour or under, and the full bodies took a lot longer, cause there was posing, styling, shoe drawing, colouring etc. involved.
The domestic bkdk comic I did for the top tier zine took way way longer, I want to say anywhere between 40-60 hours lol. I worked on it for months so that’s about as accurate as I can give in terms of time spent. I got hung up on a lot of details with it and the colouring took forever.
The villain attack comic took about 35+ hours ? The backgrounds took forever lol, I was trying to get better with freehand perspective, I struggle the most with environments and I wanted to challenge myself with both that and with drawing a comic with more action.
Finally, the one with little bakugou and deku holding hands I think took somewhere around 8 hours ? I was trying some new stuff with colouring and also background stuff
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mikhailwrites · 1 year
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The road / Ghost x Soap
Kinktober #8 - Napping together (from the SFW prompt list)
Return to the base is by far Soap’s least favourite part of any deployment. The deal is done; there’s no more danger, there’s no objective—only the countless hours spent on the road or in the air.
Thankfully, Ghost knows him well enough by now and provides some comfort.
Return to the base is by far Soap’s least favourite part of any deployment. The deal is done; there’s no more danger, there’s no objective—only the countless hours spent on the road or in the air. Adrenaline has fizzled out of his system, leaving him tired and way too lucid at the same time. The flights and rides home are when the regrets register. What went wrong, what could he have done better, what are the lessons to learn. Most of the time, it’s completely useless. The reflection and analysis only make sense with a level of distance. So soon after the mission, there’s no way he can see the full picture and disregard irrelevant information. He knows all this, yet is unable to stop his brain.
Soap startles as something big and heavy flops down on the bench next to him. In the low, red-tinged light of the cargo bay, he can’t make out much. Soap relaxes the moment he realises it’s Ghost.
“Ghost?” he addresses his Lieutenant over the comms as the plane engines are too bloody loud.
There’s no answer, but suddenly, there is Ghost’s arm around Soap’s shoulders, pulling him close. Soap goes willingly, leaning against Ghost’s solid frame. Johnny sighs, feeling the tension gradually leave his body.
“Better?” The soothing timbre of Ghost’s voice sounds intimately close in the comms.
“Aye,” Soap admits, leaning on Ghost more. “Could you… keep talking? Please?” That’s a tall order, and they both know it. Between the two of them, there’s only one talker, and it’s not Ghost.
Ghost hums, clearly contemplating the request. “What would you have me say?”
“Anythin’ really,” Soap closes his eyes, too tired to explain his request.
“Alright,” Ghost’s arm tightens around Johnny’s shoulders, providing even more comfort. There was never any need for him to explain, Ghost knows him well enough by now. He thinks for a minute, searching his memory for something that wouldn’t be a horrible choice, like quoting the field manual or telling some horrible jokes. Both of those have a place in their communication, especially their infamous banter, but it doesn’t fit this moment. A possibility presents itself, and Ghost goes with it. It’s unusual, but he has a feeling that Johnny might appreciate it. “On the far side of the river valley the road passed through a stark black burn. Charred and limbless trunks of trees stretching away on every side. Ash moving over the road and the sagging hands of blind wire strung from the blackened lightpoles whining thinly in the wind.”
Soap filters out everything except Ghost’s nearly monotonous voice, which actually suits the picture he’s painting with his words. It feels melancholic. “’S nice… what is it?” Johnny asks, already on the verge of sleep.
“The Road by Cormac McCarthy. You should read it sometime.”
“Mmm… maybe I will… tell me some more.” He probably won’t read it. Soap’s never been one for reading, unable to focus on the pages for more than fifteen minutes before his mind starts to multitask. However, he’s reasonably sure he could listen to Ghost read him a book. Soap tries to imagine them huddled in a bed like that, simply enjoying a cosy evening. The world could go fuck itself for once.
Ghost rakes his memory for the continuation of the story. “Farther along were billboards advertising motels. Everything as it once had been save faded and weathered. At the top of the hill they stood in the cold and the wind, getting their breath. He looked at the boy. I'm all right, the boy said…,” Ghost trails off as he realises Soap has fallen asleep. Ghost’s gentle chuckle is hidden under the harsh skull mask.
Simon has always considered himself a man of violence—someone who can only take and never give back. Soap has changed that. Not the reality, merely Simon’s perception of self. He’s gentle with Johnny, and, as much as he struggles to understand it, he seems to be able to bring the man peace. It’s a new, uncharted territory, one he’s keen on exploring more.
Carefully, Simon makes himself a little bit more comfortable, resting his chin on Johnny’s mohawk as he, too, closes his eyes and lets his mind drift off.
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