#i will be lurking in the deep waters
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leiascully · 2 years ago
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You know what, I am unbothered by disputes in TXF fandom because I have been here since almost time immemorial, longer than a goodly number of you have been alive, and I will be here at the end of time when the universe cools, listening to “Walking After You” as everything goes stiff and cold.  I have forgotten more thoughts about Mulder and Scully and the rest of the crew than most people have even had, and I have written and written and written until these blorbos are engraved in my bones.  Look for me in the deep places; find me at the wellspring writing with water on slates.  Listen for me on the wind, whispering “fuuuuuuuck chris carterrrrrrrrr.”
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juliamccartney · 2 years ago
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ok the story in mag 195 (adrift) is one of those stories that are just so. fear-affirming
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liuisi · 3 months ago
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Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said: “Who is this who darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Now prepare yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer Me.
Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? To what were its foundations fastened? Or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? Or who shut in the sea with doors, when it burst forth and issued from the womb; when I made the clouds its garment, and thick darkness its swaddling band; when I fixed My limit for it, and set bars and doors; when I said, ‘This far you may come, but no farther, And here your proud waves must stop!’
Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place, that it might take hold of the ends of the earth, and the wicked be shaken out of it? It takes on form like clay under a seal, and stands out like a garment. From the wicked their light is withheld, and the upraised arm is broken.
Have you entered the springs of the sea? Or have you walked in search of the depths? Have the gates of death been revealed to you? Or have you seen the doors of the shadow of death? Have you comprehended the breadth of the earth? Tell Me, if you know all this. Where is the way to the dwelling of light? And darkness, where is its place, that you may take it to its territory, that you may know the paths to its home? Do you know it, because you were born then, or because the number of your days is great? Have you entered the treasury of snow, or have you seen the treasury of hail, which I have reserved for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war? By what way is light diffused, or the east wind scattered over the earth?
Who has divided a channel for the overflowing water, or a path for the thunderbolt, to cause it to rain on a land where there is no one, a wilderness in which there is no man; to satisfy the desolate waste, and cause to spring forth the growth of tender grass? Has the rain a father? Or who has begotten the drops of dew? From whose womb comes the ice? And the frost of heaven, who gives it birth? The waters harden like stone, and the surface of the deep is frozen. Can you bind the cluster of the Pleiades, Or loose the belt of Orion? Can you bring out Mazzaroth in its season? Or can you guide the Great Bear with its cubs? Do you know the ordinances of the heavens? Can you set their dominion over the earth?
Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, that an abundance of water may cover you? Can you send out lightnings, that they may go, and say to you, ‘Here we are! ’? Who has put wisdom in the mind? Or who has given understanding to the heart? Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can pour out the bottles of heaven, when the dust hardens in clumps, and the clods cling together? Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, When they crouch in their dens, or lurk in their lairs to lie in wait? Who provides food for the raven, when its young ones cry to God, and wander about for lack of food?'
Job 38:1-41
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not-neverland06 · 4 months ago
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Kid?
Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I haven’t watched X-Men since I was a child, so I can’t promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I haven’t watched DP & W either, I’ve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So you’re a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Don’t judge me, I’m just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)
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It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jean’s bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment. 
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You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, you’re blind to all logic when it comes to Logan. 
You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know he’s lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadn’t paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All you’d heard was Logan’s name and you’d zoned out for the rest of the conversation. 
And, of course, you don’t knock. You grab the door’s handle and bust in, “Hey!” Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. He’s leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling. 
Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jean’s cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. There’s no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding. 
The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you can’t decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. “Charles,” you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. “Sorry,” you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. “Charles needs us all for a mission.”
You don’t give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name. 
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You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. It’s not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didn’t make your heart crumble away into nothing.
Maybe it’s because you’re a mutant that you’re so used to rejection. You’re used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back can’t compare to half of what you went through. 
That’s what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you can’t feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesn’t turn down at the corners, your eyes don’t water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected. 
He sits down beside you and leans towards you. “I can explain-”
You cut him off and shake your head. “Forget about it. I should have knocked.” You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head. 
Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns don’t exist. “Jean, Logan, glad that you’ve finally joined us.”
Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit. 
You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadn’t believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles. 
Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything you’ve done together. And you’re hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?
You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesn’t see your major mental freakout. 
You’re not that much younger than him. Well, it’s not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when you’ve been falling harder and harder for him, he’s just been platonically taking care of you? You’ve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it. 
You’re spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea what’s even being discussed or what’s going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what you’re doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldn’t be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.
You nod your head, moving like you’re in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. “You alright, kid?”
The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesn’t want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean. 
There’s a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that you’re grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Logan’s idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly. 
You ignore Logan and instead catch Jean’s eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.
You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, “Kid.” You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like she’s ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath. 
“Scott,” he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize you’re planning something. 
Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, “Mind checking my cuffs?” Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. She’s not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check. 
You’re still new to welding them. And they’re too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadn’t had the cuffs on this morning, you’re afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.
“They look fine, Flux.” His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesn’t know why you’d come to him for this when it’s Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasn’t for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull. 
You’ve got leverage over her that you’ve never had before. Scott wouldn’t take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what you’d seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. You’re sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesn’t seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, she’d never choose him over Scott. 
“Thanks,” there’s a bite to your tone that you’re not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you won’t have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. You’re channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger. 
You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charle’s and Storm’s chairs so you don’t have to look at the others. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps. 
Logan’s arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you can’t escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why you’re angry when you’re faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because he’s so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him. 
“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be. 
You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. “What? Just needed some help.” Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes. 
Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. “Put a pin in the lover’s spat, we’re landing.” Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. There’s a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and you’re practically running into the snowy forest. 
You don’t know where you are, mainly because you weren’t paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isn’t doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. You’re partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, you’re not stupid enough to argue against it.
You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You can’t risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space. 
You both linger behind the other’s as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Logan’s face, you’re not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices. 
You’re startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?”
You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. “Nothing,” you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jean’s head. You’re surprised you haven’t chipped a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth together. 
He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “I’m a little surprised that’s all.”
“Oh yeah, ‘bout what?” You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didn’t just break your stupid fucking heart. 
You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you can’t tell if you love or hate. “You and little Miss Perfect.” You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen. 
Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. “Guys, really?” Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. “Not the time,” she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others. 
You come upon a warehouse, it’s nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal. 
Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. There’s a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside. 
“No one here?” Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?
Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, “Guys! Over here,” mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear. 
As awful as it is, you’ve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There aren’t usually many mutants in one place. They don’t like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. There’s nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers. 
They don’t want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that you’re not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. You’re nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds. 
You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, “Behind you!” A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. There’s a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, they’re useless. One won’t work without the other. 
You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. It’s been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs. 
“We need to get you out of here!” He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan. 
You listen to the other’s worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You don’t know their powers yet. Don’t know what might go wrong if they get too scared and can’t control their abilities. 
You can’t speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know it’s delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyone’s hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid. 
You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. “You need to get out,” you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode. 
“We’re not leaving you,” Logan snaps. There’s shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns. 
“Wasn’t a question,” you grit out. You look towards Jean and there’s a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much he’ll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like you’re already altering the atoms of their being. 
This is why you’re only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you can’t. You’re not sure you’re going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare-”
His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. “I’ll cover you,” you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like you’re being tugged in a hundred different directions. “Just get them out,” you nod towards the kids. 
Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isn’t hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone. 
“They’re in the jet,” Charles's voice rings out. “Don’t do this,” he warns. You can’t think of a response, you’re not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission. 
At least those kids are safe. It’s not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave. 
It feels like a dam exploding. It doesn’t leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as men’s bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. You’re blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy. 
You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you can’t even feel. You don’t know when the screams stop, or when you’re finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black. 
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“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though it’s Charles who is holding him back. He’s got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse. 
They’re waiting for the all-clear. The others know there’s always the possibility that they’re going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Logan’s face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much he’s fighting against Charles’s hold. 
Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she can’t take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as they’d started. Seeing the way he’s acting now, she’s starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen. 
He’d looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems he’s only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. He’s terrified that they're going to walk in there and you’re going to be dead. 
Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. They’ve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didn’t have enough time to shut you down. 
Jean, as much as she’s tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, can’t look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. It’s never been her that he’s wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until you’re pissy and mouthing off. It’s not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesn’t view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. You’re something else to him, something she doesn’t want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue. 
Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him he’s running out of the jet. “Logan,” Jean tries to call after him but he’s already a distant blur. 
Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. “Come on,” he mutters. He’s the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, he’ll end up being Logan’s punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, she’s not sure she wants to see what’s happened. 
Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesn’t want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash. 
They reach where the warehouse should be. It’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesn’t see your body, none of them do. But Logan isn’t giving up. 
He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesn’t sense your presence anywhere but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she can’t see him anymore. He’s disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if you’re breathing. And he doesn’t say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout that’s going to happen after this. 
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The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that you’re in a bed you don’t recognize. 
You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus. 
A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, “Finally awake, princess?”
Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but there’s something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up. 
You can’t help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe it’s the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you can’t remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more. 
He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. “How do you feel?”
Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize you’re in the medbay. It’s why everything smells so sterile. “Like I got hit by a semi.”
He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, “What the fuck were you thinking?” He doesn’t ease you into this at all and you frown. You’re not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. That’s not his style, he’s always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldn’t be. 
“What else was I supposed to do?” You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like it’s been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal. 
“Not put yourself at risk like that.” He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know he’s holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, he’s stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. “Not have Jean knock me out like that. You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”
It’s completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you can’t help but scoff at the mention of Jean’s name. Can you not have one conversation that’s not tainted by the mention of the redhead?
Logan’s mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. You’re not exactly acting like an adult. You’re being a brat and for such a stupid reason too. 
Just because you like him doesn’t mean he has to reciprocate. You can’t just force your feelings on someone. “Logan,” you whisper his name, “Sorry. I’m sorry-”
He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like he’s smiling. “Jean? That’s what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?”
You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you don’t know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, “Who?” If you weren’t so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didn’t know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia. 
Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You don’t have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze. 
“Come on,” he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until you’re forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but you’d only ever seen it directed at Jean. It’s the same way you’ve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire. 
The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. “Only ever wanted you, darlin'.’”
The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldn’t, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold. 
His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. It’s cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when he’s holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you. 
He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like it’s a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you can’t hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you don’t feel anything other than each other. You think you’re going to devour each other like you’ll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You don’t want to let go of him, don’t want to lose this moment. 
But you have to breathe. You don’t get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire. 
You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it can’t betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You don’t waste a second before you’re draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you. 
“Can’t believe you were jealous of Jean.”
“Shut up,” you snipe. You look up at him and glare, “How else do you explain what you two were doing?”
He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. “She came onto me, sweetheart.” Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. She’s going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. “Relax, you’re gonna blow your fuse again.”
You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You can’t believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when you’ve got him. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve got my cuffs.”
His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. “I don’t ever want to see that again.” You’re a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming. 
“I had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.”
Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, “Next time, take me with you. I’m not fucking dealing with Summers without you.”
You can’t help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. “Deal,” you whisper, still smiling at him. 
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A/N: Okay, this might be shit, I’m not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess I’m officially off my hiatus. 
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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rippersz · 2 months ago
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𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨
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(Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader) (NSFW; Thigh-riding; Titles) (~4.7k words)
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“I think this is my favouritest place in the entire universe,” you admitted softly, your words slurred and muffled against the sweet-smelling skin of your lover’s neck. 
“I thought your favourite place was your bed,” she huffed, lips twisted into a smirk. 
“It is. But this is my most favouritest.” You moved your head, pushed your nose further beneath the curve of her jaw, and nuzzled closer into the corner of her shoulder and neck with a dizzy blissful smile. 
The urge to sigh took over quickly and as you breathed deep, utterly content with your soft witchy pillow, the mixed smells of wildflowers, bourbon, jasmine, and gardenia filled your lungs. It was the most comforting combination, full of happy memories, a reminder of home, a staple of your Lilia, and when you breathed out, you caught the notes of the lemon shampoo clinging to her damp curls. Which, as beautiful as they were, were still incredibly unruly and slow to dry after a relaxing shower. They tickled your nose and chin, drawing damp streaks of water, and you reached up to tuck them away behind Lilia’s neck. 
“Quit it,” she nudged you gently, shifting you on her hip. 
“I’m not doing anything, your hair is getting in my way.” 
“Oh now she blames the hair,” your lover drawled, “What next? Is my lap not comfortable enough for you?” 
“It is. And it would be even more comfortable if you weren’t reading that stupid book.” 
She knew you weren’t being serious–you loved when Lilia got a moment to calm down and read peacefully–but she’d had her nose buried between the pages of the damn thing since the moment you settled. It was about flowers and sigils and ancient forms of casting and other things you didn’t care to remember because you were snuggled up on the right side of Lilia Calderu’s body and you would not move even if the Divine Mother herself had begged you to do so. She was simply too comfortable, simply too soft, simply too perfect. Braless, relaxed, matching your rare choice of pyjamas for the evening: Underwear and a T-shirt, the latter having been stolen from Lilia’s closet even though you had your own. It was flimsy, old, thin, and also the best thing you had ever worn as you’d straddled her thigh, wrapped your arms around her waist, and happily realised that you could still feel each warm part of her body through the two layers of cloth. 
That alone was a feat you had to accomplish together once upon a time—getting out of your comfort zones. It took a while before you were secure enough to open yourselves up intimately, to even think of getting undressed in the same room, to even kiss without skirting around each other first. You had your fair share of insecurities, but Lilia was a different story. She’d lived a life unlike any other, being a fugitive witch, skilled in divination, who travelled the waves of time as a skipping rock rather than a sailboat. Her upbringing wasn’t very liberal, much less accepting of homosexuals, and though she managed to get through life regardless, her preoccupied on-the-run mind steered her away from debauchery. All in all, that meant sex and intimacy simply was not as important to Ms. Lilia Calderu as it was to most of the population. She still felt the urge of course, she was a woman with such needs, but there was no time to desire a physical outlet - no time and no energy and no candidates. There was one girl in her youth, part of her original coven, and maybe a few flings in her mid-200’s, even something a little more long lasting toward the end of her 300’s, but the itch was never so persistent. It didn’t wait in the back of her head or lurk around right before going to bed, and it never came up in her thoughts when out in public. She was an adult woman with too many things to think about, focus on, and consider. She didn’t have time for desire. She didn’t have time to want.
And then you walked into her little shop on a rainy humid Wednesday afternoon, fuzzy-haired and wild-eyed, and the sight of you sent her careening into the future. She returned quickly, with an awed look, serious eyes, and the soft murmur of “The Wheel of Fortune”, and only after some time passed did you both realise that yes, change for the better was indeed in the cards. 
And Lilia found herself wanting that day. 
Then most of the days after it. 
For about three years, that was her normal. The sudden uproar of desire, not incredibly strong (for her subconscious would not let it get that far) but definitely noticeable. She found herself thinking about you often, about your skin, your hair, your hands, your fingertips, your legs, your smile. She found herself wanting to touch. To reach. To caress and to kiss and to bite. Once the two of you recognised your attraction, you quickly agreed that anything sexual or intimate would be postponed. It simply had to come at a time in which you were both ready, open, and uninhibited. And if it took a while, then it took a while.  
It took only two years, after which you finally gave yourself to Lilia and she gave herself to you. It was all very romantic; a dark evening, slow and desperate, wet and hot, quiet and needy. Completely unforgettable. It opened a gateway of sorts, a chance for you both to expand and explore, and after a lifetime of not being able to embrace sexual liberation, Lilia was finally given the opportunity. You encouraged her as best you could without overstepping boundaries, always willing to try what she wanted to try (even though she often found herself on the receiving end of your innovative thoughts instead of the other way around but nevertheless), always eager to do the necessary research if that’s what your time together required, never a complaint on your tongue whenever she admitted she wasn’t in the mood. No corners were ever cut when it came to the desire you had for your lover. 
Except when it came to book corners. Those were cut instantly. 
“What would you rather have me do, hm? Movie marathon? Bake a cake? Swim my way to Egypt? This is how I relax, now deal with it or get off,” Lilia snarked, moving her hand from the cover of her book down to your thigh to give you a small pinch. She was too quick for you to jump away. 
“Owch! Mean!” You flinched from the sting, dislodging yourself from your comfy drape over her shoulder to fix her with a playful glare. 
Lilia didn’t hesitate to meet you head on, taking her eyes away from her book to look up at you through dark lashes, right over the rims of her glasses. Glasses that she only wore when alone, when with you, with a little chain that held them in the place, with a shape that complimented her face so perfectly. They made her seem so… sophisticated. So… strict. A red candy-apple coloured body, slight cat eye details around the rims, and curved well enough to always be perched at a very specific angle on her nose at all times. You hated them. You really hated them. You wanted them gone. You wanted them away. You wanted them to stop being so tempting. She was already attractive enough - she didn’t need the fucking things setting your pants on fire every two seconds. And whether she knew about their effect or not, you weren’t sure, but it didn’t matter either way - her attention was excruciating, and to it you would never be immune. 
“Get rid of this book right now,” you started strong, straightening up in her lap with a haughty cross of your arms. 
“I’m busy with it,” she tightened her hold on her prized possession as if you were about to lunge forward and take it from her. 
“Yeah? Well I’m busy with you, so lose the book Calderu.” 
Her perfect lips pursed, displaying playful disdain, and you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow - just to be bratty. You watched as she considered her options, as she glanced down at her book, then back at you, then back at her book. And when she looked up for the last time, you changed your tactics and shuffled closer, moving up from her thighs to the curve of her torso - right by her lower belly. You pressed yourself there, dropped your eyebrow, and gave her the sweetest eyes you could conjure. 
“I just want to cuddle, Lili. Is that too much to ask for?” You sighed, moved your hands, and placed them on top of the book. 
Without fail, as you’d hoped, Lilia conceded. She almost always did whenever you addressed her like that, being so unaccustomed to pet names and terms of endearment as she was. To hear it from your lips was a tantalising thing, a sign of worthiness and ongoing love, and you saved it for your more intimate moments - just to coax her into doing something you knew she wanted to do but was simply too stubborn to go through with. Like putting her book down and giving you all of her attention. 
“I guess not,” she grumbled a few seconds later, melting into your efforts, and you grinned as she moved to set her book down on the bedside table. 
“See?” You hummed as you reached forward to gently pull the glasses from her face, being careful to first slide the chain from around her neck. “I knew you’d come around.” They were placed next to the book a moment later and you didn’t even wait a passing second before you were pouncing into Lilia’s arms. 
Like an overexcited puppy, your body went squirming and pushing into your lover’s, wiggling playfully as you worked your arms around her waist. She accepted you happily, letting out a sigh and a big eye roll before you tucked your face into her shoulder again and finally let the stress of the day properly wash off of your body. As Lilia’s muscles relaxed, allowing herself to give into the comforting weight of your clinging, she placed her lips to your shoulder and gave it a small kiss. 
“You’re going soft on me,” you murmured into her ear, delighting in the low hum that rumbled from her chest. 
“That’s the point,” she whispered, lighthearted and gentle.
Lilia couldn’t see the smile that spread across your face, but it was most certainly all soppy, soft, and loving. Utterly gormless, completely bewitched. She had you wrapped around every one of her fingers, oh her delightfully nimble fingers, and you never wanted to be unravelled. Not when paradise existed in her arms, flashing itself behind your closed eyes as Lilia began rubbing your back and tracing mindless shapes through the fabric of your shirt. Circles, squares, stars, triangles, trapezoids, words and phrases, squiggles and lines, suns and moons. Eventually, her pattern changed and she began following the same familiar loops and curves you’d seen her do a million times. 
From the top of your left shoulder blade diagonally to the plush fold of your right hip. 
L
I
L
I
A
A pause.
From the top of your right shoulder blade diagonally to the curve of your left hip.
C
A
L
D
E
R
U
Jesus fucking Christ. 
Lilia retraced her writing with the lightest press of her fingernails, going back over the loops of her ‘L’, the hills and dips of each letter, until she reached the tail of her ‘u’ and lingered there. One second. Two seconds. Until your skin began to tingle, and then she started to draw little circles, going from small to big in a slow spiral, and your skin began to buzz. Her caresses made it sensitive, bringing it to life, forcing the expectant attentiveness only an eager body could have as you sat in her lap and started to squirm. The circles quickly faded into nothing before the pattern reset. Back up to your shoulder blade, again across her name. 
“L-Lilia,” you breathed, feeling your body grow hot beneath her attention. 
“What?” Came her whispered response, soft like satin against your ear as she closed her eyes and placed her chin on your shoulder. 
She didn’t seem to realise what she was doing. All the warmth that she spread through you, continuously, while her traces turned to touches and she started pressing her palms to your back. She felt so good and gentle, so caring and calm, and when you took a deep stuttering breath to try and grasp your bearings, to delay the inevitable downfall of desire, you were once again overcome by her scent. It blanketed your lungs, purred within your soul, and the wildflowers, bourbon, jasmine, gardenia, lemon, love… the smell of love… made you whine. It was just so Lilia. So nostalgic, gentle, light and intoxicating. 
She sparked a warmth—a stringy, viscous, thick warmth that settled in you. Like a pool in your abdomen, it burned and lapped. It called to her from the inside, reaching for the sweet kiss of her mouth, the gentle curl of her fingers, the way her tongue felt when it dragged along the inside of your thigh. You’d felt it before, yearned for it before, gone hours with and without the careful delicate heat Lilia always managed to coax from you. And it didn’t take much. It never did. All you needed was a thigh between your legs. Pressed up against a thin piece of cloth, the only thing separating your cunt from her skin. Hands on your back. Warm and grounding, the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. A mouth by your neck. Soft breaths fanning onto your shoulder, the only thing that broke your flimsy resolve.
“You’re making me horny.” It was blunt, soft, and said with such  tightness, you knew that it was obvious you were embarrassed.
You clenched your eyes shut. 
How pathetic was it, after all, to be incapable of lasting a few minutes on your lover’s lap, receiving all of her attention, without succumbing to an eager lust? How pathetic was it to be unable to focus when she felt so good beneath you? Was that how your mind worked? So one-tracked? Was that how your body worked? So easy and loose for Lilia Calderu? Like a slut?
Yes. Yes, exactly. 
You would do anything she asked of you. You’d be anything she wanted you to be. If Lilia woke up one morning and boldly decided that she always wanted you on top, that she wanted to stay in her pillow princess luxury and succumb to your tongue and hands until she couldn’t take it anymore, you’d do it. If Lilia decided that she never wanted you to touch her ever again, in history, and that she was the only one to harness any control in the bedroom, then you’d relinquish your own. If Lilia wanted you on a leash, if Lilia wanted you chained to a bed, if Lilia wanted you in a crate, on the floor, against a wall, against a table, against a ceiling, wearing nothing, wearing everything, wearing too much or too little, you wouldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t refute. Not because you couldn’t, but because you didn’t want to. She was a witch, a powerful witch, and a woman, a powerful woman, and the very second you looked into those neverending puppy dog eyes and saw the sadness and the strength, you were whipped. You were totally, absolutely hers. Lilia’s slut. No — Lilia’s girl. 
But even Lilia’s girl made mistakes sometimes. Even Lilia’s girl was, in certain moments, too greedy. And the moment the words were out of your mouth, your depraved confession, her touch stopped. 
It was excruciating. 
Your chest hit hers with every deep inhale you drew, growing deeper the longer you sat there, and it began to shudder as your heart crawled into your ears. She was so still, so rigid, that your mind descended into worry. Did you ruin it? Did you say the wrong thing? Should you have left it? Ignored it? Maybe she just wanted to cuddle. Maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself, tried controlling it better, and returned to it in the bathroom after she fell asleep. Maybe you screwed up the evening because you couldn’t cuddle with Lilia for one second without wanting to fuck her brains out. Maybe..
“Do you want me to stop?” 
You blinked. You didn’t really have a response. Of course the answer was God, no, but if Lilia wanted to stop, then you wouldn’t push her. You didn’t want her to feel obligated. 
Lilia breathed slowly through her nose, off put by your silence, and pressed her still hands harder into your back. 
“I- if-... if you want to,” you whispered quickly, terribly unsure with your wavering confidence but so desperate for her touch that you felt your mind grow hazy. Goodness, she was so close and she felt so warm. Your heart returned to your chest, eager to beat in sync with your lover’s as you felt her body slowly relax underneath you. 
She let out a steady breath, so quiet you could barely hear, and then shattered the peace a second later.
One of the lingering palms on your back shot up to your hair, wrapped a thick handful of it into the curl of a fist, and wrenched your head back. You squealed, eyes tearing up with the sudden sharp pain in your scalp, and your body went falling into Lilia’s other hand. She held you up with only a flex and kept you there, suspended, unable to move.
“Be assertive,” Lilia commanded, not even giving you a moment to recover. “Do you want me to stop?” Her whisper was gone, replaced with a quiet serious depth, and you shivered as you looked into her eyes. 
They were dark. Hypnotising. Swirling with chocolate desire, with the honour of love, and at the sight of her focus, her undivided attention, the knowledge that she knew — she knew you were dying for her – the flame in you soared into a blaze. It was a wicked sludgy sort of thing, intense and impulsive, and its hunger, its ache made you throb. Lilia’s hand twitched in your hair, feeling so much better the longer the sting settled, and the words were tumbling off of your tongue before you could catch them. 
“No, no please. Please don’t stop Lili…,” your chest heaved with breath, affected by the feverish way she handled you, and you could feel the sickening helplessness of your expression. Brows furrowed, eyes wide and glossy, lips licked and cheeks dark. Pure want for your lover. Pure desperation. 
“Please.” 
Lilia considered you, running her deep gaze over your face. She took in the look of you, the need, and you watched her perfect lips purse, her beautiful eyes narrow, her dark brows furrow - before she hummed, relaxed the hand holding your hair hostage, and went to cradle the back of your head. You let her do it all without worry, knowing she wouldn’t hurt you, and sighed with bliss as she put pressure behind her fingers and brought you forward. Your eyes closed as your body was returned to its previous position, propped up against her, forehead pressed to the curve of her shoulder. Your legs clenched at her gentleness, at the contrast of her touch, and you shuddered as you felt her thigh, thick and soft and heavenly, stop you from getting any friction. 
“Lilia-” you didn’t even know what you were going to say, if you were going to beg or if you were going to question or what you were going to do - but it didn’t matter. 
She cut you off like a knife through flesh as her hands moved to trail down your sides, from the swell of your breasts to the soft plush of your waist to the dip and bend of your hips. Her touch was sure, strong, certain, and your hands flailed to grip at the back of her shirt when she suddenly settled her fingers into the hinge of your thighs and slowly, slowly, pushed you back. Slightly, a few inches, enough to have your legs falling open, leaving you there for a quarter of a second……. and then forward, slowly, to erase the space she made, to close the distance, to drag your core along her thigh. Once. Twice. Until you got the memo and started moving with her, whimpering as the ache in your abdomen started to ebb and flow. 
Your forehead pressed further into her shoulder, lightly muffling the whimpers that dripped from your lips, and you moaned when she shifted herself forward to move her mouth up to your ear. It was velvet against your heated skin, teasing and sensitive, and Lilia took a soft breath in before she kissed the shell and whispered, quietly, like there were others in the room and she didn’t want any other soul on Earth to hear… 
“You look like a whore.”
Then she sped up the pace, grasping your hips with more strength, nearing the point of bruising, and began pushing and pulling with smooth, quick tugs. You couldn’t do anything but hold on and move with her, shifting your hips back and forth on her thigh, and shiver every time your clit caught the fabric of your underwear. Your body had no trouble reacting; throbbing for her, dripping for her, ruining your panties while you clutched at her back and eventually abandoned her shirt to run your hands up over her bare skin. She was smooth, perfect, she felt like a woman beneath your touch, a lover, and you squished your cheek into her shoulder as you moaned. Loud, desperate, and unashamed. 
“Lilia… oh god.” And she let out little pants for her efforts, lips parted and eyes hooded while she watched the way your hips moved for her, gliding with grace, slow like a dance, and the breaths quickly tumbled into soft groans as you shuffled closer and pressed your right knee up against her core. 
“You feel so good,” you turned your head to whisper hurriedly, raggedly, into her ear. “S-so good…” And Lilia shuddered, biting her lip to hold back a moan as you began lifting your hips every time you were dragged forward. 
Your sounds mixed so well, soft and loud and husky and whiny, twirling together in a lustful little symphony as your movements got faster and sloppier. And when your eyes fluttered closed and open in lazy blinks, you saw the tantalising skin of Lilia’s neck, shifting as she breathed, and you couldn’t resist. A strangled moan rumbled up from her throat at the feel of your tongue, wet and hot while you leaned in, closer, more, until your nose was also pressed to her neck and you could breathe her in. She tasted, smelled, felt like Lilia. Your Lilia. Sweet Lilia. Her head dipped as she pressed her nose to your neck, making you pant with desire at the closeness of her lips. You just needed them on you, painting you, opening up so she could be free to sink her teeth in and drink your life from your body if that’s what she wanted. 
“I love you,” she husked, her breath making her deep voice shaky, and you responded with a harder thrust of your hips against her thigh and an open-mouthed kiss against her throat. 
You were too far gone for words at that point, with her practically wrapped around you. Your mouth was open, your tongue was licking lazily, lolling like a dog’s, and your mind was fuzzy, dripping toward your cunt, only working to move you back and forth on your lover’s leg like a depraved little animal. A sickened beast. You couldn’t help it. Her thigh was the perfect surface, strong when she flexed, soft when she relaxed, thick and delicious, and shivers wracked your body as you followed the gestures of her hands. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A heavenly friction against your clit, leaving the desperate weep of your hole to ache. It felt neglected, throbbing for Lilia’s fingers, but riding her thigh felt so good and you didn’t want to get up, you didn’t want to stop, even when your panties began sticking to your skin. You didn’t want to stop, even when your head got so fuzzy, your belly got so warm, your body got so hot that your grinding started to slow. It was hard to keep the pace as you felt your muscles burn, but Lilia wasn’t having it. 
“A little longer,” she huffed, finally kissing your skin, melting you from the inside out with her soft lips. “Just a little.” 
You nodded, choking on a whine as you started up again and forced all your strength into your grinding. 
“Good girl,” Lilia hummed, pushing the hem of your shirt away from your neck with her chin so she could have more room to kiss. “Good girl…” 
“L- Lili-a- I’m… hngg… I wanna- mmmnnn….” Cum. You wanted to cum. You wanted to cum on Lilia’s thigh, you wanted her to help, to encourage, and you nearly fell apart instantly when her teeth started pressing lightly, gently, into your shoulder and her tongue began to swirl around your skin.
“Come on,” she moved her mouth to your ear. “Come on, baby,” her tone was soft, coaxing, and you could sense the tease in her words. 
But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. You were left on the burning edge, singing your fingers, whining to near tears in Lilia’s arms as you heaved, shuddered, whispered pleads and begs beneath your breath. The pool of desire only grew, glistening below you as you hung above, so close to falling, dangling by a thread, rutting your hips over and over like it would help. The friction was barely enough, pressing so deliciously against your swollen clit, but you were so wet that only the smallest thrusts, the littlest shifts, were all you could handle before the sensation slipped away. It was so frustrating, pulling a groan then a distressed whimper from your lips as your legs began to shake and your hands scratched at Lilia’s back. Not too hard, you didn’t want to hurt her, but the little red lines and the sting were enough to signal that you were having trouble. 
“Relax,” Lilia whispered, making you choke on a breathy whine. “Relax for me.” She spoke slowly, softly, and you breathed in deeply through your nose to calm your pounding heart. “Listen.”
You nodded and nuzzled into her shoulder, slowing the pace of your hips but pressing harder into her leg. It felt so good, so good, but not enough- not enough.
“You’re beautiful,” Lilia panted, making your thighs twitch, “My beautiful girl.” 
“Hmmpngg- Lilia- Lilia-,” you whimpered, letting out a little moan each time you moved. 
“I know. I know you need it,” she nodded, then pressed another kiss to your neck. “Can you let go for me?” Her voice was like warm honey drizzled over your bones and your skin. “Can you let go for Momma?” 
A thick, blinding bolt of heat flashed through your body, making you sweat and shiver against Lilia’s body. No no no- Momma’s body. You felt the desire bubbling, brimming, so close to falling into bliss that you could only close your eyes and go quiet.
“I know you can do it,” she spoke slowly, taking the reins back and using more force to speed up your thrusts. “Let go for me, sweetheart.” Her lips brushed your ear. “Be good and give in.” 
“M- Mo-” you were red-faced, vision blurred with tears, your lower lip quivering, and Lilia came to your rescue.
“Momma gives you permission.”
And just like that, saved by the same woman that tortured you, the thread was cut, the ledge crumbled, and you fell.
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BOO. - Rip x
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arabellasleopardcoat · 8 months ago
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To Conquer (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: Incest is common amongst Targaryens, Daemon assures you. Unfortunately, Alicent got to you first.
Warnings: Mentions of sex. Cursing. Arranged marriage. Periods. Daddy issues. Religious guilt. One death aside from canon ones (Daemon murders a man)
A/N: In which I rewrite the scene of my first encounter with incest in a book. If you get it, you get it.
YOU NEVER dared call Alicent mother out loud. But in your mind, she was.
The woman who had birthed you had passed away the same day you had been born. Out of her womb you had been pulled, alongside your twin. He had not survived the day.
Queen Aemma Arryn was a mere name to you, a woman who existed in paintings and shadows, a ghost that lurked on the Red Keep. Your father never once spoke of her too you, too consumed by guilt and grief. In fact, he did his best to never speak to you at all.
You were an uncomfortable reminder of the crime he had committed. Robbing a woman of life so a man may live. It hadn’t even worked in the end. Your brother had faded from this world, nothing of him remaining.
Against all odds, you had. You had clung to life, the Maesters would later say. Fought tooth and nail to stay in this world. And somehow, it hadn’t been enough. Your father avoided you like the plague, but Alicent, guilty, scared, lonely Alicent, did not. She was all you had.
You stared at your reflection in the mirror. Despite your dramatic entrance to the world, and your eventful first few months of life, your life had turned out to be quite lackluster. There were no exciting adventures or claiming of dragons, much less a moniker attached to your name like there was to Rhaenyra or Daemon. You wondered why this, out of all things, had to be different.
The robes looked graceful enough on you, you supposed. Your father had called you a true Valyrian beauty, the very image of your mother. You knew it wasn’t true. King Viserys didn’t remember her. How could he, if he had done his best attempts to erase her? He had replaced her at once, and he never once spoke of her again. At least, not with you.
His presence in your life could be defined with one word: Absence. But he had thought it fair to reappear when he needs you to do something for him. The least he could have done would have been asking for your input about the wedding.
If you had been asked, you would have chosen a traditional wedding ceremony, with a Septon and a hand fasting. You would have worn a Targaryen cloak… To be exchanged for another Targaryen cloak. No. Perhaps it had been for the best, not to desecrate such a beautiful ritual with this nonsense.
Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of not being really married. You didn’t like it. And you liked the man who was waiting for you on the other side of the door much less.
“Are you done, niece?” The knock on the door forced you into action, once again. You reached into the basin, watching the cool water shift under your fingers. There was something about the cold that cleared your head, helped you think. You took a deep breath, and tried to focus.
Alicent had told you that you should obey him in all things. That you had to do your duty, just as she had done hers. But you had seen the fear in her eyes when you were getting ready for the ceremony, and how her hands had grasped at you desperately during the feast. It had taken Ser Otto’s intervention to make her let go of you.
Your bedtime stories had not prepared either of you for this. When you were a young girl, plagued by night terrors, she would sit at the foot of your bed and pretend to read your destiny.
“One day, you will fly to the moon wearing spiderwebs as wings.” She would squint at your hand, making a show of reading the lines there.
“Tell me more!” You would squeal, fears forgotten. Despite not being the motherly type, she would always indulge you. Perhaps, because she saw herself in you. Another little girl, her mother dead, her father defined by his lack of presence.
“It says here…” Alicent would tickle your palm. “That you will grow up into a beautiful, beautiful princess who will marry a handsome lord. He will love you very much.”
Out of all the lies you had been told, it was your favorite. Each night, you would ask to hear it again and again, and think, tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I will be all grown, and the lady of a great castle. My father will love me then.
It had been a consolation you had clung on through all your childhood. You were a princess, worthy of being appreciated by your future husband. He would love you, you knew. You would build something together, something only yours. You would raise your children to be better than you, following Alicent’s example. You would be happy.
You had never realized how much she had clung to that thought too. Her frustrated dreams for herself had been turned into hope for your future. Alicent had spoken them into the night like an enchantment, as if she could bring them to life by repeating the words over and over. So you could have what she hadn’t had. Like all parents wished.
What both of you had imagined wasn't this. You wanted to scream from rage.
“Just a bit more.” You said, your resolve hardening. The faith of the Seven dictated that laying with a relative was a sin, the same for laying with a man who was not your husband. They barely recognized Valyrian wedding ceremonies.
Had you really married him? Your High Valyrian was sloppy. Your mother had not taught you much, and your lessons had often been interrupted because of Aegon. Out of all your siblings, Aemond had been the most proficient one. He had not been present at the ceremony, being judged too young to attend.
It had been your parents, Daemon, Aegon. An intimate ceremony, just as they liked. Could your father betray you so? Give you away as a whore to appease his brother?
You opened the table’s drawers. Daemon’s bathing room was unfamiliar to you, but he must have used something to shave and you would find it. You riffled through various oils and soaps before finding the blade you were seeking.
With your non-dominant hand, you bunched the robes up. Bracing yourself, you used your other hand to slit your upper thigh. At first, you didn’t draw blood, despite feeling the sting of the blade. Your grip was too shaky. But your determination didn’t waver. Your father had asked too much of you already, there was no power in the world that could force you to share your Uncle’s bed.
Your second attempt was much more successful. Despite having tensed the muscles of your thigh anticipating pain, it didn’t hurt as much as you expected. Blood rushed out. You grabbed a rag and rubbed it on it. You examined it, coldly. No matter how Valyrian, you bled red, like any Andal.
You schooled yourself into faux embarrassment before you spoke.
“Could you… Husband…. Could you fetch my mother?”
Despite your calculations, you make the mistake regardless. The noun slips from your tongue, unprompted. A slip. The first of many to come. The temperature dropped in the room, Daemon’s anger a near palpable thing.
“Your mother is dead, niece.” He stressed the last word in a way you didn’t like. Despite the door separating the two of you, you could tell his mood had shifted from bad to something much worse. You feared what he might do to you, were you to backtrack in your plan. “Whatever Alicent has been teaching you, you should know you are not hers.”
“Queen Alicent.” You corrected, annoyed. How did he dare criticize the way she had raised you, when there had been literally no one else around up to the task. How did he dare speak down to you, as if you were a simpleton? You fought to keep your tone steady and stomped on the anger bubbling up. “I have… lady troubles.”
“Lady troubles?” Daemon asked, sounding puzzled.
You pondered the merits of skirting around the issue. You weren’t in the mood to enter a euphemism’s discussion, and so, decided to be more graphic.
The bloody rag was held gently between your fingers when you opened the door. No more words were needed. Daemon cursed and went to get your mother.
HE DOESN’T dare ask at first. Daemon understands that women’s bodies work different from his own. He has never bedded one in her moonblood, and doesn’t intend to start with you.
Despite your beauty, Daemon felt oddly disappointed. He had hoped, with you being fully Rhaenyra’s sister and not half, like his younger nephews, that you would be similar to her.
You weren’t. You lacked her fierceness and the respect for your heritage. The only thing Valyrian about you was your looks. You didn’t even have a dragon of your own, and were so damn timid, he might confuse you with a mouse rather than a Princess.
Because of that same reason, he let you be during your moonblood. While Daemon didn’t object to some blood, he doubted you would be the same. Bedding unwilling maidens wasn’t his thing. He preferred his girls willing, be it from the promise of coin or delirious from their own lust.
Somehow, he was getting the feeling you weren’t going to be the second type anytime soon. Every time he attempted to kiss you, you squirmed away, as if he were initiating something sinful and not simply trying to kiss his wife.
“Seven Hells, would it kill you to remain still?” He asked as you nervously avoided his grip on your waist. “I am not trying to initiate anything. I know you are still on your courses. Stand still. I command it.”
“I… I…” You had looked at him, all hesitant eyes. Alicent had done scarcely any things right when raising you, but at least she had instilled you obedience. But blood couldn’t be denied, and every so often your Valyrian nature reared its head. Mostly, playing against Daemon rather than in his favor. Little dragon that you were, you weren’t keen on following orders.
Ah, but bring you a Septa. Then you were jumping out of your seat to offer the damn woman your chair and observing her earnestly for non-verbal cues, tending to her every need like a commoner. Ridiculous.
“The Mother obeys the Father, from what I understand.” Daemon kept his tone matter of fact. He wasn’t certain that the Seven Pointed Star said that, but it sounded right, and it suited him, so he spoke the words with as much conviction as he could muster. In truth, Daemon had never opened the damn book in his life. A waste of time. The Septons he knew were a bunch of cunts and their followers weren’t any better.
“Maidens are supposed to be demure.” You protested. “Not indulge on indecent displays.”
“You are not meant to be a maiden any longer.” He grabbed you by the waist regardless, coaxing you to stroll next to him. “And wives obey their husbands.”
While you remained unconvinced, you allowed him to lead you around the Red Keep’s gardens. He kept a constant stream of chatter, using all his best lines, but you answered in monosyllables. Not only did Daemon wish to cultivate a better relationship with you, but he also wanted to flaunt his new bride. It was only fair that the other cunts here got a look at Targaryen superiority. Kept them from being too uppity.
Like everything else in this marriage, though, that too proved elusive. Soon, whispers began to circulate about his virility. One of your maids had a loose tongue, it seemed. The whole castle was snickering about it not even a week later. You, like usual, were oblivious.
In a fit of anger Daemon would later not be proud of, he got all the little chits whipped. But their attitudes about your moonblood made him begin to suspect something was amiss. A fortnight of bleeding seemed… Strange. While he was never particularly interested in women’s bodies beyond fucking them, something had to be wrong. An inquiry with the Maester proved him right. Apparently, over a week was unusual, a fortnight near impossible.
That night, he sat on the foot of your shared bed, watching you fret around the room. Daemon had asked for shared chambers, thinking it would bring the two of you closer. With his constant exiles and marriages, and the fact that Alicent had coddled you during your whole existence, you were a stranger with a familiar face. He had hoped to entice you by appealing to your curiosity about marital duties. Safe to say, it didn’t work.
You had put up barriers. Both metaphorical and physical ones. Right now, you were at it again. Laying down a towel on your side of the bed and a pillow in the middle of it. As he watched you, he found himself struck by the beauty of your hands. They were firm and precise in their movements, fixing down the towel and then neatly delimiting your side of the bed with the pillow.
You were wearing the most hideous nightshirt know to man, more adequate for a Septa than a newlywed. Slightly bent over, fluffing up your pillows, Daemon noticed that it was as white as fresh snow. Now that he thought of it, all your shifts were. And yet, none of them had ever been stained. Nor had the towel you placed on the bed and loudly proclaimed it was to avoid leakages. An effort to make yourself more unappealing, perhaps?
Somehow, the realization didn’t anger him. Instead, it made him more curious. Was this your way of rebelling? Were you scared? What went on behind your eyes, inside that skull of yours?
“Wife.” Daemon finally spoke, when you were starting to kneel for your nightly prayers. You paused, kneeling gracefully. You looked up at him, all curious eyes and nervous smile. “Have your courses always been this long?”
This time, he watches your reaction closely. During these past days, Daemon has not pressured you about it. But now, he waits on bated breath.
Your eyes widen. The hands you have clasped in prayer get even tighter pressed together.
“Oh, you shouldn’t… These are womanly concerns.” You are a terrible liar. He would laugh, were it not such a cruel thing to do when in the face of a little fool.
“I insist.” Daemon arches an eyebrow at you. You squirm on your knees like there are ants on your shift. You are visibly distraught. Does it pain you, pious girl that you are, to be committing a sin?
“Yes, they are.”
Another lie. He had asked some of the fools in Viserys’ employment. Yours didn’t last more than a week. But Daemon finds all the twitching you are doing entertaining, and so, decides to give you more rope to hang yourself.
“And yet, your father promised that you were fertile.” He drawls, cruel amusement almost leaking into his tone. He can’t help the way his lips twitch. This is too entertaining. It’s like toying with a mouse before eating it.
“I… I am.” You weakly defend yourself. Your face is looking more distressed by the second. And is that..? Oh, wonderful, you are starting to sweat a little.
“No, you are not. You are either lying about that, or about your moonblood.”
“I am not!” You protest, finally getting up from your kneeling position. A shame. You looked positively delicious in your predicament.
“Yes, you are! But I am giving you a chance to tell me the truth. Which one are you lying about?”
“I am not.” You look about to flee the room, so Daemon gets up and places himself on your path. You flinch a bit, but stubbornly refuse to admit the truth. His amusement at your attitude is starting to turn sour. Not only it is unflattering that you are making up excuses to avoid bedding him, but they are so stupid half the court is laughing at him behind his back about it. And you, absolute fool, can’t admit it.
“Wrong answer, niece.” He steps closer, trying to intimidate you. “I know the truth.”
“You do?” You startle. You take a step back, nearly tripping on the hem of that ugly nightgown. Daemon reaches to steady you, his grip on your arms punishingly. You twitch, as if sensing that you are caught in the maws of a hungry beast that could pounce at any moment.
“You are not on your moonblood. You can't be every single day of the moon!” He shakes you a little, making you yelp. But then, the most astounding thing happens. Because instead of going very still, as the frightened bird that you are, you shove him hard.
“What would you know!” You scream at him, pointing one finger at his face. Daemon wishes to say he is unbothered by your hysterics, but instead, he grabs your accusing hand and tugs it. The delicate bones shift inside his hand, threatening to snap, and you're left with no choice but go towards him or break your finger.
Wisely, you choose the second. You are breathing hard, and looking up at him in righteous indignation.
“Brute!”
“I asked your maids.” Daemon smirks at you, something ugly appearing on his face. In truth, whatever you see spooks you because you deflate a little. “So? Shall you tell me the truth? Or must I find it myself?”
He makes it as if to lift your shift. You bat his hand away, hard. Interesting enough, you harden then.
“What else is there to know? Beyond that I am not on my moonblood?”
“We can start with why you lied. Or why you don’t wish to lay with me.” Daemon suggests, gripping you tightly so you cannot escape. He brings his face closer to yours.
Your eyes are wide. Your face is frozen into a terrified expression, like you are realizing all your lies are catching up to you.
“I didn’t want you to force me.” You say, voice barely a whisper. Who do you think he is? Some sort of monster? Your depraved half brother, perhaps? Daemon had already heard the exploits that one was up to. Jerking off in a window, of all things.
“Force you! If I wanted to force you, I could already have.” Daemon rolls his eyes. You were not trained in any sort of combat, and you were the kind who had her head in the clouds more often than not. You were not a match for him. If Daemon wanted to force you, he just had to pin you down or pull out Dark Sister.
You stay quiet, perhaps coming to the same realization. You have gone to bed next to him for nearly two weeks, only in thin shifts. Every day, you have woken up untouched. Doubt starts to cloud up your face, as if you are noticing how vulnerable you truly have been and how well Daemon has behaved.
As if he were going to be deterred by a little blood. He was a true Targaryen. It was in his house’s words. Plenty of maidens bled when being split open on his cock. Your moonblood would not be very different.
Daemon decides to appeal to your more… Hightower side. Perhaps that would get you to yield to him. He uses his more Otto-like tone, trying to sound as cunty as possible.
“It’s your duty.”
You shake your head, frantically.
“We can’t. It's not right. You are my uncle.”
Your words are spoken with such conviction, he has to fight the urge to scream. That was your problem? You? A daughter of the house of the dragon, complaining about incest?
“It is not unprecedented. Our whole line begins because Aegon the conqueror had his sister wives. And then, Maegor married his niece, too.” Daemon’s words are sharp. He lets go of you and starts to pace the room. Good Gods, what had Alicent done to you? Had she twisted your mind so, you now thought marrying him was wrong because you were related?
“And their marriage was cursed. No child was born out of their union.” You reply, with an ugly smile. He wants to slap it out of your little face. Smug little girl, thinking she knows everything about the world.
“Jaehaerys married his sister, the Good Queen Alyssane. They had plenty of children.” He insists, trying to get you to notice the flaws in your argument. Everyone knew that the only way to preserve the Valyrian bloodline was by marrying other Valyrians. Otherwise, the magic in their blood would dilute, and they would no longer be able to claim dragons. It was common sense.
“All of them turned out very… queer.”
“My parents..!” But you interrupt him before he can finish.
“Exceptionally queer, too.”
Daemon feels his face heating up. No one before has managed to infuriate him so. He wants to shake some sense into you. His hands itch for something to punish you with. Impudent little thing, daring to suggest his parents had been queer!
Queer! The queer one here was you! A Targaryen who opposed incest!
“Listen here, you awful little…”
“Stop that. Stop insulting me, by the Seven. You won’t change my mind.” You raise one of your hands, in the universal halt sign. “I will never share your bed.”
At that, Daemon thinks actual steam must be coming out of his ears. Never. As if. You would change your mind, he knows it. No one can resist him for long. He is experienced, charming, and handsome. A prince and a true dragon. What more could anyone want?
He would make you regret your words. He would show you. Under all your repressed, Hightower ways, you were a dragon. Targaryen blood ran thick. Daemon would have you eating out of the palm of his hand before you could realize. Before, he hadn’t really been trying. But now? He was ready for war.
“Come here.” He orders. You stare at him, and do not move. “You will disobey me in this, too?”
You step closer, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I wish to make a deal.” Daemon says. You cross your arms over your chest. “You don’t have to bed me if you don’t want to. But you will have to give me something in exchange.”
“What?” You tap your foot against the floor, impatiently. Yet your face, as always, betrays you. His offer has made you lower your guard, interested in what he has to say. Probably because you are seeing a way out of this whole issue.
“I want you to let me be as affectionate as I wish with you.”
“Fine.” You snarl at him, trying to look fierce. But you are too new to this game of pretending for Daemon to not see through your mask. You are confused.
He steps closer. He gathers you into his arms, and hugs you.
At first, you tense. Your arms remain glued to your sides, body stiff in his arms. Daemon enjoys the feel of it regardless. You smell like innocence, sweet and young. Your body is soft and feminine, nothing like the hard muscles of his first wife. He allows himself to relax into you.
Eventually, your body sags a bit. You relax into the hug.
“I wish… I wish….” You start speaking, face hidden in his shoulder. Daemon doesn’t let go. His gut tells him that whatever you are going to say, it is important. “I wish I wasn’t ashamed. And that… In our wedding ceremony, I would have liked to know what was being said.”
Daemon’s heart aches. His poor little Hightower, denied of her birthright. And then, a giant grin spreads on his face. Here it was. The opportunity he needed.
“I will teach you.” Daemon whispers, against your hair. He kisses it. It’s a lovely thing, an icy blonde that doesn’t fit your warm personality. Now that you are not fighting him, he is starting to notice you are very sweet natured. “I promise.”
“You will?” You look up at him, wary. “And what will the price be?”
Daemon chuckles.
“No price.” He caresses the bridge of your nose, tracing your features. You seem bashful at the attention, and it is so adorable, he can’t help but kiss you.
You startle. All coltish, you nearly elbow him in your haste to move away.
“What are you doing? We said no bedding!”
“I know.” Daemon smiles at you, indulgently. Now is the time to tread carefully, less you spook, and he ends up losing all his progress. “I just want to kiss my wife. Affection, for the sake of it. Kissing doesn’t need to lead to anything.”
You nod. You don’t seem convinced. But he soon discovers your hesitance comes from something else.
“I have never kissed anyone.” You whisper, almost ashamed.
“Then let me teach you that too.” And he is leaning in, and capturing your mouth with his.
“I GOT you something.” Daemon suddenly says, one morning. You lift your gaze from your book, an historic account about the doom of old Valyria, and watch him with curious eyes.
Your husband is carrying a bundle of cloth on his arms. He is back from his usual shenanigans in the city. Betting and drinking, but no longer any whoring, he assures you. The Lord of Flea Bottom is no more, or so he says.
It is quite early. You have just broke your fast with your mother, after the two of you did your morning prayers together. It is a ritual you find great comfort in, despite Daemon doing his best to discourage you. He doesn’t like that you worship the Faith of the Seven.
He has grown slightly more tolerant of Alicent as time goes by. You cannot say the same for her. Despite the fact that Daemon treats you well, she still can’t seem to get over the fact that he is Daemon Targaryen, the same man who had terrorized her father, courted her best friend and possibly murdered his last wife.
The bundle of clothes moves in Daemon’s arms. You place your book down, and creep closer, wondering about its contents. It’s then that you hear it. A soft, quiet mewl.
A grin spreads across your face. You cross the distance between the two of you, and watch as a small paw reaches out from the cloth, flexing its tiny claws. It is covered in white fur, the cushions on the bottom of it a soft pink.
“A kitten!” You say, delighted. You take it from Daemon and cradle it against you. The kitten can’t be older than a few weeks. His eyes are already open, a cloudy gray that takes your breath away. It’s love at first sight. “Oh, husband, thank you!”
“I saw it when I was coming back this morning. Thought you would like the damn thing.” Daemon says, gruffly. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I will name him… Quicksilver!” You say, cheerily. It makes his lips twitch a bit, unable to hide his amusement. This week, Daemon has been helping you practice your High Valyrian by reading a more recent text, accounting the times of King Aerys.
The language practice has brought the two of you closer. You are no longer as resentful or scared of him as you once were. You spend nearly all your evenings with him, pouring over gigantic tomes written in the language of your ancestors. Daemon patiently corrects your pronunciation, teaching you the right way of rolling the vocals, and how to accentuate your consonants.
You would have never thought you would enjoy learning so much. He is a very compelling teacher, clearly passionate about the subject yet stern enough to make you do all your assignments before their due date. Daemon is patient and encouraging, willing to explain things to you over and over again until you understand them fully.
The kitten yawns, showing a row of tiny white teeth and a pink tongue. You coo.
“Tiny but fierce.” Daemon smirks. “The Seven preserve us all.”
“How pious.” You tease, and Daemon steps closer. He grabs your waist and pulls you in for a kiss, Quicksilver still in your arms.
Despite having kissed him many times before now, you feel as weak to his advances as you had felt the first time he had kissed you. Daemon kisses like he is conquering, nipping at your lower lip until you open for him, and taking complete ownership of your mouth. His hands grasp at your nape, holding you against him. There is no escape from his kisses, and it fills you with a thrill you had never expected to feel before. Daemon wants you. He desires you, as a man desires a woman. There is no headier feeling than that.
At first, you had thought he was lonely. Why else would he ask for affection, when he was able to ask for anything else from you? That night, when he had found out you had been lying to him, Daemon could have asked for anything, done anything to you. Not a man in the realm would have judged him for it.
His behavior after that only seemed to confirm it. When the two of you were in public, his hands would linger on you, as if fearing you would leave his side. When someone told a funny joke, his eyes would seek yours before laughing, making sure you were still there.
It was an urge you understood too well. Abandonment was something you had learned to fear as well. Your mother had left you unwillingly. Your father and sister had both been eager to wash their hands from you. You guessed Daemon’s life had been a bit like that, too. From what you had heard, his mother had passed when he was a child. Your father had grown tired of him. And your sister… Well. That had been his fault.
When you grew up like that, you clung to every kindness, to every slice of warmth you could get. It was no wonder Daemon clung to you as hard as he did. It was difficult to live like that, not knowing what kindness feels like, grasping desperately to any scraps of it until you can almost piece together what the real thing feels like.
Despite having all reasons not to, Daemon’s attention never turned suffocating. Perhaps, you too, were starved for affection. You had gone your whole life with no positive male attention, being overshadowed by your sister and forced into almost a Septa-like life by your mother. His touches were never beyond the proper attention a man would show his wife in public. It felt almost… fatherly.
As a child, your father had never sat with you, or listened to anything you said. Daemon, instead, seemed to pay close attention to everything you did or told him. He sat for hours with you, pouring over myths and historical accounts, correcting your pronunciation of High Valyrian, teaching you the meaning behind old rituals.
It was as if a door had been opened for you. One you could use to glimpse inside his mind, and your father’s and even Rhaenyra’s. You understood now much more about how they behaved, and why they did. You didn’t necessarily agree, but you understood.
Some confusing feelings had begun to arise with all this new information stuffed into your head. You liked Daemon’s attention. He was charming, and it made you feel good about yourself, being able to keep someone as worldly and cultured as him interested in you. It made you wish, sometimes, to have been his daughter instead of King Viserys’. But at the same time, the way you felt and the things you did with him weren’t the kind of things you imagined daughters feeling for their parents.
When Daemon kissed you, as he did now, you felt your stomach swoop. His skilled mouth made your skin tingle, and all your hairs stand up on edge. It made you feel ashamed of yourself. You weren’t supposed to feel such things for your uncle. No matter how Valyrian, it was just not right.
What made you feel even more ashamed was the fact that sometimes, when he kissed you for too long, the place between your legs would get slick with arousal. You wanted him too, you realized, with the utmost horror. You wanted him like a woman desires a man. A wife desires her husband.
It is then the game starts. Daemon kisses you, and you kiss back, eagerly exploring his mouth and learning how to play his game. You make out with him for what feels like hours, until you feel drunk from his kisses and become as pliant and soft as clay being molded in his hands. It is then that you let him touch you a bit more, push the boundaries your previous truce has set. His hands grasp at your hips, his lips mouth at your neck. And when the edge of your shift starts to ride up, or his lips trail too close to the neckline of it, you jolt out of your stupor.
Shame licks at your spine, grabs tightly at the back of your head. Makes you stiffen under him, body set into a hard line. How can you be so wanton? Why do you behave in such whorish ways? You struggle then, overcome by the embarrassment you feel at your own behavior.
Daemon tries to subdue you. Sometimes, you fold, other times you spend the night tossing and turning on the bed, trying to get the upper hand. Sometimes, he wins, and pins you down on the mattress. But instead of forcing you, he kisses you again and the game begins anew.
You spend the nights like this. Kissing and struggling with anxious violence, until it has begun to replace the act of love. You can tell Daemon enjoys your struggles, the feel of your buttocks against his clothed crotch. You can feel the weight of him against your hip, burning hot and hard.
Eventually, he tires and heads out. You don’t know if he pleasures himself then, or if he just ignores his arousal until it goes away. You prefer the second when it comes to yourself. For hours, you stare at the ceiling, willing the heat in your blood to go away. Sleeps evades you, yet when it does not, it feels even more torturous. You dream of him, of the act, conjuring lewd positions and thoughts, until morning comes, and you feel like you have not slept at all.
This precarious balance could never last. You are not good at the court’s games, having been a wallflower most of your life. You are a stranger to waging tongues, and malicious comments, but Daemon is not. He is doomed to always be the center of attention, this husband of yours.
Someone notices that almost three moons after marriage, you are still a maiden And someone remembers Daemon’s lack of children with his first wife. One plus one makes two.
He comes to find you in the Royal Sept, as you are lighting candles with your mother. He grabs you briskly by the arm and drags you away, the match still alight between your fingers.
“Have you heard?” Daemon asks, breathless. It is clear that he has rushed to you. “What they are saying about me?”
You shake your head.
“How would I?” You are, after all, as isolated as you were before the wedding. Your only companions are Quicksilver, Daemon, your mother, and your siblings. And Aegon is at that terrible age, where he behaves like a little deviant. The others are too young to provide true companionship, Helaena stuck on her imaginary worlds and Aemond not quite a boy, not yet a man.
“They say I am impotent. That your womb has not quickened because I have not taken you. Because I am unable to.” The crude words Daemon speaks make your eyes widen. You have grown protected from the nastier side of court life, forgotten as you were. You cannot believe how someone would dare comment on a married couple’s bedroom activities, which are meant to be one of the more sacred things to happen between man and wife according to the Seven. Much less, how someone would dare to utter such poisonous slander.
“We know it’s not the truth.” You place your hand on his arm, trying to soothe his wounded pride. Daemon is, above all, impulsive. You fear he is about to do something rash, even if you do not imagine yet what.
Isn’t it enough that the two of you know the courtiers are in the wrong? You have felt the press of his member, hard against your hip, in the nights the two of you struggle. You have felt his hips rutting against yours, as his kisses mapped unknown constellations on your shoulders. What does it matter if Daemon hasn’t taken you? How can these people dare interfere, or even mention what the two of you do or do not do?
Shame, once again, grips you in its clutches. You feel your face warm at the thought of how these strangers must view you. Queer. Twisted. You wonder if they blame his inability to perform on your blood ties. If they think the Seven are cursing your marriage, just as they had with the ones of King Maegor.
“It isn’t.” Daemon says, coldly. He walks away, a tense line on his shoulders, and you walk back inside the Sept.
Alicent is still lighting candles. You sense that there are not enough of them to make a difference for what is about to happen.
That night, a disgruntled looking Harwin Strong wakes you up. He tells you how he is there to supervise your packing. You are leaving the city, he explains, to your bewilderment. Effective immediately.
As you place your dresses inside some linens, and ready Quicksilver, you manage to coax the story out of him.
Daemon had been at his usual haunt in Flea Bottom, betting on some cockfights. You could picture the scene clearly. Daemon, lazily counting his winnings with that infuriating smug look he got when he was proud of himself. An angry patron, getting up and on his face after losing to him.
“Maybe that cock will work for your wife!”
The whole establishment erupting into laughter. Daemon, cold smile on his lips.
“Go to your manse, and arm yourself. Because I am going to kill you tonight.”
After that, there was little he could say in his own defense to King Viserys. It had been a premeditated act, in front of multiple witnesses. No way of denying it, or trying to shift the blame.
You stood outside the city gates, observing Caraxes. He looked as done with Daemon’s antics as you felt. In front of you, stood the world.
Daemon strode by, being dragged by Ser Harwin. He was chained, but managed to look as carefree as any free man.
“You know the rules.” Ser Harwin said, unchaining him, before turning towards you. There was a bit of sorrow in his brown eyes, perhaps feeling pity for you. “Farewell, Princess.”
“Where to, Lady Wife?” Daemon asked, cheekily. There was no hint of remorse on his face. It seemed exile reinvigorated him like nothing else.
Your lips pursed into a thin line. You didn’t want to leave. It was scary, the thought of being away from home. The times you had been outside the Red Keep could be counted with the fingers of your hands alone. And what were you to do, friendless in the big world that opened in front of you?
You wanted to punish him. If he was giving you a choice, you were going to give him a lesson.
“To the North. Perhaps that hot blood of yours will fare better there.”
“ARE YOU sure?” You ask him, all pleading eyes. Daemon nods, already sitting inside the hot spring. You are strangely fearful of the warm water, perhaps, having already grown used to the cold of the North.
“If this scalds me alive, I will come back to haunt you.” You warn, turning to face away before beginning to undress. Daemon can’t help but let his eyes linger on your body, despite knowing how indignant it would get you were you to notice. He has promised to avert his eyes, after all.
Naive as you are, you never check to see that he actually does.
He watches as you remove your furs, and unlace your dress. It has taken him quite some effort to get you to feel comfortable enough to be naked in his presence. There might come a day when you are desensitized to nakedness, but Daemon guesses you are still far away from it. He has to keep trying.
You are worth the effort, though. His precious niece, sweet as the Maiden herself and twice as pretty.
“Dragons don’t burn.” He answers, absentmindedly. You are only wearing your chemise and your hoses, and as you lean down to remove those, he gets a perfect view of your cute rear.
“Perhaps. But I am no dragon.” You pull the chemise over your head, unaware of the fact that you are being watched. Daemon drinks in the sight of your naked legs, strong yet delicate, leading up to beautiful hips and a soft back. As you pull your hair up, he notices how the muscles of your arms and back move in a graceful combination that can’t be anything more but a natural gift. He spends a few seconds mesmerized by you, before you start to turn around and Daemon remembers he is supposed to be averting his eyes.
He fixes them politely on the other side of the hot spring, careful to not let you catch him looking out of the corner of his eyes. You are becoming sloppy in your old age, he scolds himself. Daemon can't help it. Lately, he feels more like the boy he once was than the man he is. His attempts at seduction are fumbled, he gets carried away by his passion, a single one of your smiles can render him tongue twisted.
Everything that you do is charming. The slight sway of your hips as you walk, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, but most of all, your personality. Freed from the cage of Alicent’s judgmental stares, you seem to be growing into yourself. Life on the road seems to suit you, despite your fearful nature. Surrounded by strangers, you no longer feel the weight of being judged for imaginary sins.
“You are. Just one with a more…. Fragile constitution.” How he wishes to be able to turn back time, sometimes. Gather the girl you once were into his arms and soothe all the old hurts. Raise you the right way, give you all the attention you had desperately needed and watch you bloom into an impressive woman. You were already a creature of impossible beauty. How much better could you have been, if they hadn’t stunted your growth?
You were too much of a Hightower, Daemon himself had thought once. But Alicent had thought you not Hightower enough, and she had tried to mold you into one, keeping you well away from what she thought of as queer customs.
Who had told you weren't a dragon? And how had they made that awful lesson stick, until you felt adrift, and belonged nowhere?
The sudden sound of water shifting, and you hissing makes him jolt out of his contemplation. Daemon turns his head the barest bit, managing to catch sight of your hips sinking into the water, and the shape of one of your breasts. There is one puffy nipple crowning it, hard and proud and begging to be bitten. He fights the urge to pounce on you, and instead remains sitting on his side of the natural pool and tries to relax into the warm water. Patience is of the essence in seduction, after all. You need to come to him convinced it is your idea.
“Ready.” You say, sounding a bit too close. He turns and there you are, right in front of him. You sit on the shallower end, water covering you to nearly your collarbones. Daemon playfully reaches out with his foot and touches your leg, making you jump. He laughs.
“It isn’t so bad, is it?” Daemon’s voice still carries a bit of mirth. He can’t help it, you have such cute reactions.
“No. Almost like a warm bath.” You fan your face with your hands. Seeing you lose your composure a little, Daemon feels a bit guilty about pressuring you to enter the pool. It’s true you are not as used to extreme heat as he is. He rushes to your side, uncaring of his own nakedness.
“Too hot?” He asks you, wiping away a stray drop of sweat before it can get into your eyes. You mumble something incoherent, so he presses a hand to your forehead. He doesn’t want you to swoon from heat exhaustion, out of all things. But your temperature is normal. It is then he realizes your eyes are fixated on his chest.
Ah. Poor thing. Daemon can feel his lips stretching into a proud smile. Finally, succumbing to your lust. He should press his advantage, but he finds himself hesitating to do so. Despite how appealing he finds you, he understands that you are different. A being that walks the world of the divine and the mundane that skirts the two but was not made for the more carnal things.
Instead, he commits the sight to memory, for when he decides to touch himself. Perhaps tonight, even. It is something he has been doing more and more often. Daemon has found intercourse with whores is nowhere near as fun as laying on the bed, with you by his side, and tugging at his cock until completion.
He is never quiet about what he is doing. Soft grunts and moans fill your chambers each time he does. You pretend to be asleep, but Daemon can tell you are listening. The next day, you turn fevered with lust. It is you who kisses him, who rakes her claws along his back.
There is no consummation yet. But it is becoming clearer than once fully freed from the judgment of your family, there will be.
You sway slightly. Daemon opens his arms, and lets you curl into him. He guides the two of you into a sitting position, placing you firmly on his lap. Your hair falls into a mess of curls thanks to the humidity, up do barely resisting. He fixes it for you, tightening the ribbon keeping it up. Then, he starts massaging your neck and shoulders.
The pleasure of your bare skin under his hands is undescribable. It’s a luxury he has worked hard to get, and for that, tastes even sweeter. Your sweet little face is scrunched up, in a rare show of pain and pleasure. Daemon wonders if it is the face you would make when he spears you open on his cock.
An annoying hardness begins to make itself known in his groin. He feels like a mere boy, getting excited about the smallest touch. You are driving him mad. And Daemon is enjoying every second of it.
Almost as if listening to his inner monologue, you shift on his lap. Something seems to be bothering you. You can’t get comfortable, and you squirm on his lap more than a seasoned whore. Daemon can pinpoint the exact moment you notice what you are squirming on. Your eyes go wide and you freeze. An embarrassed look takes over your face.
He fights the urge to laugh, wrapping his arms more firmly around you and encouraging to rest against his chest. Daemon could spend years like this. Denial is a fun game. Months have passed, and he has yet to grow tired of it, of taking away your innocence little by little.
You lean in. You give him a playful little smile, and you bite, hard. The pain from your teeth blooms on his shoulder, making his cock throb.
“Impudent little thing.” He chastises, softly. “I should spank the defiance out of you.”
You laugh. You have come to realize that he is not as much of a brute as everyone painted him to be, and that he is too soft to make good on his threat. Ever since your argument, Daemon has never hurt you. He likes you too much for it. He wouldn’t force you to bed him, nor would he willingly do anything to upset you. Not even if you announced you didn’t want him touching you ever again.
Was this what love felt like, he wondered? Being happy with just sharing the same air you did, watching you play with your cat, being honored that he was trusted enough to feed the damn thing?
It probably was. But hell, if he was going to let it stop this corruption of your innocence. No. Instead, Daemon grabbed you by the shoulders and bit down on the hollow of your throat, playfully. You made a small sound, like a caught animal. He could tell you were getting ready to succumb to pleasure once more. His hedonist little wife, always ready to be put in a kiss drunk state. You turned liquid in his arms when it happened, going lax over him.
Daemon could tease you some more. Or… He leans in, breathing in your scent, before blowing a giant raspberry by the side of your neck. You shriek in laughter, squirming on his lap. Water is sent flying everywhere. He peppers your face and neck in kisses as you do, laughing st your squeals and squirming.
“Daemon.” You say, after a while, when the both of you have calmed down. Your head rests on his shoulder, expression hidden.
“Little niece.” He whispers, and you tremble at the endearment.
“I have decided something.” You whisper back. Somehow, your voice feels loud in the cave of the hot spring, nothing but the soft murmur of water being heard.
“You have?” Daemon asks, heart thumping in his chest as if he has just taken to the skies in Caraxes. He pulls you out of hiding, lifting your head towards him.
“I want to marry you right.” You say, shyly. You look deeply embarrassed. “Under my faith. So we can…” You trail off, averting your eyes.
“So we can..?” Daemon asks, feeling a triumphant grin spread over his face.
“Have a child.”
And oh, it is the most wonderful thing he has even heard. He will buy you a cloak, and a couple of ribbons for the hand fasting. He will find the two of you a home. Daemon says all this, as he presses his forehead against yours. Not even his conquest of the Stepstones felt as sweet.
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revehae · 8 months ago
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rose creek motel
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pairing ↠ jaehyun x (f) reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, age gap (18+), drowning, noncon, baby trapping, unprotected sex, oral, angst
summary ↠ after eighteen years of complying with the rules of your domineering parents, you finally decide it’s time to wipe the slate clean and move away. rose creek motel is nothing in the grand scheme of your life, especially with a history of serial killers lurking around, but when you meet jaehyun, you decide that you’re not in any hurry after all.
wc ↠ 15.8k (i…dont Know)
a/n ↠ okay tbh i intended for the last smut scene to be Darker but you have to understand i was listening to horizon and forever only giggling and smiling and shit. cut me some slack pls. before you read, heed the warnings. i do not intend to glorify age gaps or predatory behaviors.
don’t like it, don’t read.
after a three-hour train ride to another city and another hour of wandering, you were thrilled to stumble across a motel before dusk. at first, there didn’t seem to be any nearby.
it was a smaller one, not part of any major chains throughout the country. there didn’t appear to be many staff nor customers. there was one dude who checked you in at the front desk and maybe a handful of cars in the lot.
not that it mattered. you wouldn’t be here long enough to be concerned about the sheer size of the place. a few days, maybe less, but certainly not more. the grand city of newark was waiting for you and you were borderline impatient to get there. but on the other hand, you wanted to savor this little trip. 
it would mark the first of your own, and the true beginning of your lifelong journey to find yourself.
any other person most likely would have been desperate to kick off their shoes and head to their room for the night, but the creek across the road from the motel caught your eye. you rushed over in spite of your aching feet as though it wouldn’t be there tomorrow, ambling along the riverbank. 
the waters rushed and crashed into slew of rocks, and you closed your eyes as you took in the sound. you could hear birds singing late afternoon songs and the rustling of trees in the early march spring. 
footsteps behind you startled you out of your peace. your foot slipped and your body lurched forward. had not a pair of big, burly arms clasped around you tightly, you would have slipped into the tiny creek. 
you glanced up in shock, meeting a handsome pair of innocent eyes. “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, pulling you away from the bank. 
when you were safely on your own feet again, the handsome stranger released you. you straightened your skirt and smiled up at him. “it’s fine. thank you for catching me.”
“no problem. it would have been my fault if you fell.” he introduced, “i’m jaehyun. i work at the motel across here.”
you glanced back at the motel, as if you hadn’t seen it before. “oh,” you said, surprised. but the uniform clinging to him gave that away. “not much staff, huh?”
jaehyun smiled. he had deep, adorable dimples. “well, we are a pretty small motel. we do what we can with what we have.”
“do you get a lot of visitors?”
“usually just people with a road trip gone bad,” jaehyun said. “i’d ask what a girl like you is doing out here by yourself, but i don’t want to seem like a creep.”
you laughed, wondering how that would be possible. when you were as handsome as this boy was, it would’ve been more difficult. “no, it’s okay. i’m actually not having a car trouble. i got here by train. i’m on my way to newark.”
“newark,” jaehyun repeated, seemingly interested. “where from?”
“boston,” you chirped. “i’m starting afresh. my birthday was a few days ago and as my parents like to put it, i’ve ‘gone rogue.’”
jaehyun’s eyes went a little wider in surprise. “happy belated birthday,” he said. “how old are you now?”
you shrugged, deciding not to reveal too much information. you were maybe naive to a fault, but not a complete idiot. “that’s a secret. i’m an adult, though.”
jaehyun snickered. “that’s obvious. you checked yourself into the motel, didn’t you?”
well, that was true. but the exterior of the building seemed so shady, you’d initially doubted they would even bother with identification. you were grateful they didn’t require you to be twenty-one. a second longer of wandering and you would have collapsed on the side of the road. 
ignoring his question, you gave one of your own. “how old are you?”
mocking you, jaehyun put a finger to his lip and said, “that’s a secret. but i’m an adult, too.”
you shook your head, but there was an amused smile on your face. “fair enough,” you mumbled, turning towards the creek.
jaehyun’s attention shifted with yours. “it’s called rose creek, our namesake,” he told you. “not much to see out here.”
“that’s not true,” you disagreed. “there’s a ton to see in nature. you just have to open your eyes and look.”
jaehyun seemed amused, giving you a look. 
noticing his furrowed brows, you pointed towards the middle of the water. “look,” you said softly. “there’s a cute little baby turtle right there. they love creeks, because they’re an easy place to find tasty victims.”
jaehyun’s eyes focused, landing on what he had thought was a rock and only noticed upon further inspection was indeed a turtle, chilling in its leathery shell. “damn, you’ve got a good eye.”
you giggled. “i grew up near a creek. you learn to pick up on those sort of things.”
“ah,” jaehyun replied, nodding his understanding. “should we name it?”
“what would we name it?”
jaehyun shrugged. “squirtle.”
that almost prompted you to roll your eyes. “that’s too cliché.”
“then, what do you suggest?” jaehyun asked with a grin, crossing his arms. 
“i don’t know,” you mumbled. “donatello.”
jaehyun snickered. “and that’s any better?”
you threw up your hands. “okay. fine. how about… archie.”
well, that was different from the other suggestions. “why archie?”
“because turtles remind me of that one studio ghibli film about the red turtle,” you told him, lowering your head shyly as you explained yourself. “and when i think of red, i think of that guy from riverdale.”
“isn’t that that show about teens dying?”
you shrugged. “don’t know. never watched it.”
something about that was amusing to jaehyun and he decided that your suggestion was fitting. “alright. then, archie it is.”
you beamed. 
“well, it’s getting dark. i don’t think i have to tell you not to wander too late. you seem like a smart girl,” jaehyun said.
you glanced around at the shadows falling onto the rustling trees and the last gleams of today’s light shimmering on the creek. “you’re right. i should head up,” you replied, turning to face him. “have a good night, jaehyun.”
when you turned away, jaehyun realized he never got your name.
after a long night of trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep, you decided to head down to the pool. it was nice to see a motel with a couple of accommodations. they would make a good enough resting spot before you returned to your travels tomorrow.
there were a number of lounge chairs facing the pool, but instead you chose to climb into a hammock a few feet away from it. it was a nice spring day, neither too hot nor too cold, and you folded your arms behind your head while fighting the urge to close your eyes.
there weren’t a lot of people staying at or near the hotel, so you weren’t surprised to be alone. to think of it, you hadn’t seen anyone but a couple of staff. although you did walk past a room blasting heavy rock.
you heard footsteps, and turned to see jaehyun, sporting his burgundy uniform. he had a cart of towels, probably coming to restock. “jaehyun,” you called out.
jaehyun blinked up in surprise, likely not expecting to see you there. but when he did, he smiled and started to step over. “hey,” he said, digging his hands in his pockets. “you never told me your name.”
“whoops. silly me,” you replied, then told him your name. 
you watched him process it, as if he was deciding in his head whether he liked it or not. he repeated it quietly to himself and said, “that’s very pretty.”
“thanks,” you replied, bursting into giggles. “how’s work going so far?”
“oh, you know,” jaehyun started, gesturing over to his cart with his shoulder. “nothing new. i never thought i would complain about not having enough work to do.”
you snorted. “i get what you mean. i was a camp counselor one summer. those kids drove me mad, you know. but when they were gone, i cried.”
there was a shimmer in jaehyun’s eyes. “do you like kids?”
“yeah. they can be a handful, but they’re delightful. honestly, i don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like kids. how can you be mad at someone so innocent and full of life?”
jaehyun nodded his agreement. “i realized a long time ago that people who don’t like kids are always bitter and unhappy with their own lives.”
that made you snicker, and the more you thought about it, he was probably right. “look at that. projection at its finest.”
“can i ask a personal question?”
“sure,” you said reluctantly. “what’s on your mind?”
jaehyun seemed to hesitate, battling with himself in his head for a long minute before he asked, “would you ever have kids?”
that wasn’t so bad of a question. you hummed, not really having to think about it. you already knew your answer. “i’ve dreamt of settling down and having kids with the right person since i was young.”
jaehyun gawked a bit. “really?”
“yes, really,” you told him, laughing at his astonishment. “i guess you can say i’ve always had big dreams. is that surprising?”
“no, it’s…,” jaehyun trailed, finding no words. “those big dreams of yours. they couldn’t happen in boston?”
now that was a bit more personal. you blew out a breath. “well,” you began, glancing at the unnervingly still pool. “i just wanted a new environment.”
jaehyun was tempted to press, to figure you out even more, but he didn’t want to risk startling you off. “maybe you were fated to stop by a really old motel in the middle of nowhere.”
“and meet you?”
something about that made jaehyun smile. you were so smart. “and meet me,” he repeated.
by now, you knew that jaehyun was kind of into you, the same way you were kind of into him. so, you decided to test the waters. “too bad that i’m leaving tomorrow,” you murmured quietly. 
jaehyun heard you, and he frowned, though there was nothing he could do. it’s not like he expected you to put your whole life on hold for a guy you’d just met.
or maybe there was something he could do. “what if i gave you a couple of days on the house?” jaehyun asked.
your eyes flitted up at his deep brown pair. “really?”
jaehyun nodded. “what’s a few days?”
he had a solid point there. what was a few days? newark would still be there later on, and plus you had been taking your sweet time to make it there anyways. you weren’t in a hurry to get to this new life.
“then, i guess i’d stay,” you said, grinning wildly.
jaehyun mimicked a victorious grin. “i think i’d like it if you stayed much longer than that, but i know you’ve got big plans.”
in all honesty, that surprised you a little. he was talking to you as if you had been here weeks, and not less than twenty-four hours. “what would someone like me do in connecticut?”
jaehyun shrugged. “we’ve got… yale.”
you snorted. “and what makes you think i’m smart enough to get into yale?”
“actually, a lot of things. but i’d better get to work before i get caught slacking on the job,” jaehyun said, pointing to a camera projecting from the side of the motel that had a complete overview of the pool.
you gawked. “those things work?”
jaehyun laughed at your surprise. it was addictively cute, seeing his dimples deepen and his eyes sparkle. “you’re surprised?”
“a little bit,” you confessed quietly.
to your surprise, jaehyun’s hand softly brushed your arm. it was so gentle, so fleeting, you could’ve convinced yourself it never happened had you not felt a lingering tickle where he’d touched you. “see you around,” he said to you featherly.
“see you,” you replied in a small voice, having lost it all. your eyes were fixed to his back as he walked away.
damn it, you were wanting more of this guy you barely knew.
almost half an hour passed before you eventually decided to head back up to your room. you wanted nothing more than to get to know jaehyun better, but you would never interfere with a man’s pay. plus you were pretty confident that he would come to you when he was free enough.
there was a guy hovering over the railing next to your room, because he had been staying in the one beside yours. there was a joint between his fingers, although you had noted a couple of signs prohibiting it, not that anyone seemed to care. the stench of marijuana was all you could smell when you passed certain doors.
you had expected to slip past him and enter your room without interruption, so imagine your shock when he said, “i wouldn’t walk around here wearing stuff like that if i were you.”
like first nature, you tightened the towel around you. “excuse me?” 
the man didn’t look at you, facing the world. you could see the creek from here, and that was where his gaze seemed to be rooted, too. “when you’ve lived as long as me, you know things,” he told you. “you see that creek over there? a lot of bodies used to turn up there in the eighties. young girls that stayed here a night or two.”
you said nothing, because you had nothing to say. the obvious discomfort on your face was enough. 
“i’m just saying. you look like you’re alone. wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you,” he said, putting out the joint and walking away.
well, that was single-handedly the weirdest interaction you’d had at this motel so far. you hurried to unlock your room, immediately locking the door behind yourself.
you tried not to think much of it as you changed clothes, but you couldn’t help but wonder if that man was telling the truth or if he’d just had a little too much to smoke. either way, it was over twenty years ago. jaehyun had mentioned nothing to you about any serial killers.
then again, he was clearly trying to get you to stay. the last thing he would’ve wanted was to scare you off.
chill the fuck out. just don’t hang around any old people. like that guy, you told yourself, comforting.
given that you didn’t go out again that day, you didn’t see jaehyun at all until you finally emerged from your room the next afternoon in pursuit of a late breakfast. but when you glanced across the railing, you saw a figure all too familiar facing the creek.
forgoing breakfast for now, you raced downstairs and headed the road. they weren’t busy at all, although you still had a habit of checking before you crossed. 
jaehyun heard you approaching, but didn’t turn around to face you. “how come i just know that it’s you?” he asked. 
you snickered, but it wasn’t like too many people would be strolling around this creek out of a curious interest. “maybe i have really distinguishable footsteps?”
laughing, jaehyun finally met your eyes and beckoned you closer. you obliged, cautiously stepping to his side.
it was quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. the two of you were marveling at the beauty of nature together, enticed by what you saw. it was sunnier today than it was yesterday and sunlight filtered through the trees, shimmering on the water.
“i’ve been thinking about what you told me,” jaehyun finally said after a minute or two. “when you said there’s a lot to see in nature. and ever since, i’ve been looking and appreciating the little things i didn’t notice before. you were right.”
“of course, i am,” you replied, but the cockiness was to hide the flutter of your heart. “when i’m sick of human nature, it’s always nice to come back to earth. it’s beautiful.”
jaehyun bobbed his head in agreement. “archie’s over there.” he pointed somewhere along the far end of the creek. “it likes the sun.”
“yeah. sun basking is, like, a turtle’s favorite hobby,” you said, poking your head out to spot the cute baby turtle. you were grinning from ear to ear. 
“what a simple life,” jaehyun said, lightheartedly shaking his head in envy.
you burst into giggles. but that reminded you of one of the many curious thoughts you had about jaehyun, and you figured now was a great time to ask. “hey, i didn’t want to ask this before because i didn’t know how you take it. but you don’t look like the typical guy in motel business.”
from the look on his face, jaehyun was anything but offended. “it’s my parents’ business,” he explained. “i just work here part-time.”
“ah.” you nodded your understanding, finding that a satisfactory answer. but it only made you want to know who jaehyun was when he wasn’t hard at work, donning the family uniform.
then, you remembered what that guy told you about the murders and realized that perhaps jaehyun knew more about if they genuinely existed. 
jaehyun beat you to a word. “by the way, are you going to tell me how old you really are? because adult could mean you’re twenty-four or forty-two.”
you rolled your eyes. he was being funny. “i’m eighteen.”
“damn,” jaehyun said, wincing. “i’m nine years older than you.”
that was totally surprising. “really?”
“you don’t see the wrinkles?” jaehyun asked, pointing to his smooth, wrinkleless face.
god, he was alarmingly handsome. not to mention his skin looked literally poreless. “please. i thought you were twenty-three at the oldest.”
“that’s funny,” jaehyun said with amusement. “i thought you were at least old enough to drink. damn, you carry yourself like you’re older.”
that wasn’t the first time you had heard something along the line of those words, but damn, this guy was pushing thirty?
jaehyun seemed to have sobered a little the next time you glanced at his face, like he was worried about something. “is it weird now?”
“no,” you told him too quickly, maybe because you didn’t want it to be. “not unless you make it weird.”
it seemed like time stopped and the world was no longer spinning for a minute as you and jaehyun gazed into each other’s eyes. and the closer he came to you, your noses nearly brushing, the less you could breathe. “am i making it weird?” he whispered.
you couldn’t speak, so you simply shook your head, gaze lowering to his perfect lips.
everything happened in an instant. one second, you were thinking about how he was perfect from head to toe, and the very next, your heart was soaring as his lips met yours. your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt as if you were being whisked away into a wonderland.
the two of you kissed with heat and passion, overcome with the urge to swallow one another whole, and jaehyun was somewhat surprised by how talented of a kisser you were. the feeling was mutual. you had kissed a handful of boys, but never any with this much finesse.
maybe you had been wanting to kiss jaehyun this whole time, and never knew until you had him.
jaehyun broke away after a moment or two, impressed that you weren’t the first to tap out. something about kissing you was addictive. damn, it made a pretty picture in his head, your arms thrown around his neck and his on your back.
“damn, baby,” jaehyun said, catching his breath. “where’d you learn to kiss like that?”
you peered up at him with a smile, wondering if he somehow got even handsomer in the time your eyes had been closed. “you say i carry myself like i’m older than i am. well, my folks would beg to differ.”
that answer was vague as hell, but jaehyun understood what you meant perfectly. “ah, teenage rebellion? you make out with a lot of guys to piss your parents off?”
“sure, let’s go with that,” you mumbled, still none too keen on disclosing what was officially your old life. then, you caught a glimpse of his lips, and burst into laughter. “you’ve got a little something there.”
“yeah?” jaehyun asked, swiping his thumb over a lipgloss stain that you’d left on the corner of his mouth.
“a little bit to the left,” you told him, trying - and failing miserably - to keep a straight face. “no, my left.”
jaehyun pretended to get annoyed, grumbling, “if i kiss you again, will it matter that i wipe it off?”
at the thought of kissing jaehyun again, your heart skipped a beat or two, but you tried not to show it on your face. “i think that would defeat the purpose.”
jaehyun smiled, and before you knew it, your lips were pressed together again. all you could hear was the obvious wet smacking of your lips, the soft murmuring of the wind, and the quiet rippling of the water.
but you could feel his touch, his hand gingerly falling from the middle of your back to the apex of your thighs. jaehyun pulled away from your lips again, but only to kiss you on your jaw and neck. and everything about it made you feel hot inside out, as if you were scalding.
feeling you tensing beneath his fingertips, jaehyun grinned smugly. he leaned into your ear, whispering, “how about we head up to your room, yeah?”
you were no idiot. it was plain what that meant and a kind of nervous excitement settled in the pit of your stomach like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. “okay,” you replied, letting him take you by the hand.
almost the second you were safely behind closed doors, jaehyun pressed you against the nearest wall and kissed you fiercely. although you were taken by surprise, you returned the kiss with the same amount of fervor, slightly sticking your tongue into his mouth.
mischief curled onto jaehyun’s lips, pleasantly surprised by all the little things you were initiating. his hands slowly wandered down your body for a minute, one hand at your ass and the other cupping your breasts over your shirt. you made a soft breathy noise that had jaehyun scorching with the itch to fuck you, and it only increased tenfold when he noticed your eager hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt.
while your fingers were hard at work, jaehyun’s were too, waiting for the perfect time to slip underneath your shirt. you shuddered when the tips of his fingers brushed against your stiff nipples, whispering jaehyun’s name. 
“come over here,” jaehyun said, leading you over to the bed. 
he gently lowered you down onto the mattress and started to undress you piece by piece in between kisses, pressing his lips against every bit he exposed. it was all you could do to contain your agitation, holding your breath as his face crept lower. 
to keep the more uneasy thoughts out of your head, you focused on jaehyun, asking, “aren’t you on the clock?”
“that’s the thing about working for your parents,” jaehyun said without looking up, giving his undivided attention to your legs as he yanked your skirt off. “what are the odds that they’ll fire their only son?”
“oh,” you said. he did look damn fine in that burgundy uniform, but you would’ve liked to see him without it on.
the more naked you became, jaehyun saw the way you shuddered nervously, and chuckled quietly to himself. “you’ve never done this before.”
he wasn’t asking. that was clear by his tone. it was an astute observation that you couldn’t even deny.
you frowned. “is it obvious?”
“a little bit,” jaehyun replied honestly, smiling at you. “i was a virgin before, too.”
you grinned bashfully. not a second later, your eyes made the mistake of glancing down and getting a eyeful of the imprint of his dick, and you looked away, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i don’t mind kissing assholes, but they say that your body is a temple, and i’ve never met anyone worthy, i guess.”
jaehyun raised a brow and pressed, “until now?”
that made you chuckle. jaehyun was very good at reading in between the lines, like you. “until now,” you repeated. “you’re my first.”
“and hopefully your last,” jaehyun flirted.
the stupidest smile was on your face. it was a foolish thing to hope, all things considered, but it made you feel pined after. “jaehyun, what was your first time like?” you asked.
jaehyun seemed a little grim when he heard your question, but before you could apologize for potentially overstepping, he replied, “it was with someone i had been with for a very long time, and thought i would be with forever.”
there was no doubt in your mind that it had been someone jaehyun loved and lost, and you couldn’t help but feel for him. 
not wanting the mood to shift, jaehyun quickly changed the topic back to you, and everything he wanted to do to you. “trust me,” he said. “i’m going to do everything i can to make sure that even if you go, you never forget me.”
you barely had time to respond before jaehyun tugged your panties away, dragging a pair of fingers through your wet folds. you made a tiny noise as he used them to gauge how wet you were. dissatisfied, he sank to his knees, lips meeting your folds. 
jaehyun darted his tongue out, circling your sensitive clit immediately after. you hadn’t expected the sensation to be so sharp, especially so soon, and you gasped, thighs tensing together. jaehyun got a hold of them and kept them apart as he pleased, making you take every second. 
“jae,” you rasped, unable to get his full name out. 
jaehyun grinned, lips curling against your pussy. damn, you were a sensitive one. if you were reacting like this already, what would you do when he got inside you?
you squirmed as jaehyun continued to go down on you, but it was useless. he was so strong, holding you in place as your body reacted to every single swipe of his tongue against your bundle of nerves. it was too much stimulation and yet jaehyun didn’t seem to be bothered, thriving on your pleasure.
god, every sound you made was a whimper of jaehyun’s name. he couldn’t deny that it made his dick twitch in his underwear, aching to be buried balls deep inside you, but he was holding out for your sake. as badly as he wanted to fuck you senseless, he wanted your first time together to be unforgettable for the right reasons even more.
if he didn’t, what would make him any different from those assholes you let kiss you purely to make some kind of rebellious statement?
jaehyun didn’t want to be a statement, the thing you fell back to after all else had failed. he wanted to be the answer, the one to stitch you back together, the one you crashed into when the tides got high.
you had never felt anything like this before in your entire life. of course, there had been plenty times where you had gotten yourself off, but you had never known pleasure of this magnitude until now. your own hands had nothing on jaehyun’s and his damn skilled mouth.
jaehyun liked how sensitive your body was. it was all too easy to get a reaction out of you, and he was so attracted to how you couldn’t help but respond to every suck and lick, shuddering in his grasp without control.
“jaehyun, i can’t…,” you trailed, fingers desperate to clasp something, to anchor yourself. you would have wound them through his hair, but you were afraid of accidentally hurting him, and settled for the sheets.
“yes, you can,” he said, pulling away from your dripping cunt for a few seconds. “you’re doing good, baby. cum on my tongue.”
it felt as if you were going to burst from the inside and you didn’t really want him to stop, regardless of how incessant the pleasure was. no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to keep still. you wanted more than you knew your body could handle.
to say nothing of the fact that jaehyun was doing everything in his power to drag you to your breaking point. he knew exactly what to do to have you crying out his name. for a moment or three, he had you convinced that he was everything you ever wanted. now, it was too hard to think.
in a matter of minutes, you were coming undone with a whimper so sharp you were certain your temporary neighbor would come knocking on the door.
“that’s it,” jaehyun crooned with the slyest fucking grin on his face, replacing his tongue with a pair of hefty fingers.
you tried to shove his hand away, the stimulation tearing you to shreds, but jaehyun was keen on breaking you down until you couldn’t be destroyed any further. until he had ruined you for any other man.
your bare chest heaved violently as you fought to catch your breath, blinking a couple times to clear the wet daze of your eyes. there was nothing you could do except silently gawk at jaehyun like he had singlehandedly just stolen your heart.
he finally pulled away, smugly asking, “need a break?”
after a few seconds of gathering your bearings, you rose to your knees and grabbed jaehyun by the back of his head to bring his lips to yours, pulling him down to the creaky mattress beneath you. jaehyun was surprised, but he liked how assertive you were, resting his hands at the back of your legs and letting you sink your weight onto him. 
it was criminal how good of a kisser he was. and if that didn’t already have you dripping, then the way he touched you all over would have. you felt his hard dick against your thigh and couldn’t think of a time where you had wanted anything so badly. 
“take these off,” you said to him when you pulled away from his mouth, tapping his underwear. “and i want to be on top.”
jaehyun snickered in amusement. “whatever she wants,” he said, reaching for his underwear the second you climbed off.
your mouth ran dry the moment you caught a glimpse of jaehyun’s intimidatingly thick length and you were certain that he was going to split you in half. you desperately didn’t want to come off as a shy virgin, but every second that passes made you slightly antsy.
fortunately, there was something to steal your attention away from jaehyun’s impressively large size, and your entire demeanor shifted. “wait, fuck. do you have a condom?”
“close your eyes,” jaehyun said. 
you immediately furrowed your brows, wondering what he was up to. 
noticing your wariness, jaehyun added reassuringly, “five seconds. come on, i won’t do anything weird. i promise.”
reluctance was written all over your face in a large bold font and you had your doubts, but you chose to trust him, watching the back of your eyelids and counting up to five in your head. 
when your eyes fluttered open, jaehyun was grinning like an idiot with a condom between his fingers.
you gawked, astonished. “where’d you get that from so fast - up your ass?”
jaehyun burst into laughter and only said, “a magician never reveals his secrets.”
“give me this,” you said, taking the condom packet out of his hands to tear it open. 
“bossy,” jaehyun mumbled under his breath.
that made you giggle, gingerly placing the condom over the head of his cock, and jaehyun noticed how your bottom lip stuck out when you were heavily concentrated.
you were too enamored with his dick to notice that he was staring at you as though you were the prettiest thing in the whole universe. for some odd reason, the more you looked at it, the less scary it seemed. “it’s actually kind of cute.”
jaehyun wasn’t expecting to hear those words and it completely snapped him out of his little daze. you glanced up at him when you heard him quietly snickering. “you’re something else, you know?” he asked.
“i know,” you replied, having heard many things along the lines of that statement. “you ready?”
it was ironic that you were the one asking him, but jaehyun played along anyway. “show me what you got, baby.”
you moved to straddle him again, raising yourself over his size and grabbing him in your hands to steadily lower yourself. the two of you sighed together in unison as your slick walls clamped around him.
there was one reason why you firmly chose to be on top and that was because you wanted to directly control the pace in case things got to be too much for you. you took your sweet time to sink down deeper and deeper, never too keen on doing too much too fast. in spite of the great lengths jaehyun went to prepare you, it was still a tight fit.
it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, as if you were choking on your own breaths, and your heart was pounding louder than ever.
“that’s it, baby,” jaehyun said, gathering your soft thighs in his big hands. “is it too big for you?”
you shook your head, having your pride to protect and defend with your entire body. “no, i can take it.”
jaehyun grinned proudly. “i know you can. that’s my girl.”
now that was a sure-fire way to get you hot and bothered. your heart fluttered at the praise and you hid your smile in your elbow, tempted to ride the soul out of him.
you were maybe somewhat impressed by how deep inside of you jaehyun was and definitely plenty aroused. you had feared how far he could go, but now that your cunt was involuntarily tightening around him, gushing around him hotly, it was everything you wanted.
jaehyun was as astonished by you as you were by him, watching you take his cock like a fucking champ. you may have been fighting to let all of him inside, but you were doing a mighty good job, all things considered. there weren’t too many girls he’d had with your determination to ride.
you had finally found a comfortable pace and although there was a little pain, the rapture on your expression was something that you couldn’t deny. you were watching jaehyun watch you, noticing his face tense in a similar manner beneath you. 
and it was to die for. 
“oh my god,” you moaned, hands falling down onto his naked chest. 
jaehyun couldn’t help but think the same thing with how you were gripping him for dear life and he was barely holding it together. to say nothing of the way you were crying out his name again like it was the only word you knew. he couldn’t help but think about how nobody else had ever heard your lips part open to whimper their name. 
and he would be keeping it that way, no matter the measures he had to take to ensure he kept you in his big, strong arms. 
you leaned into jaehyun, pressing your lips to his as you fucked yourself on him. the tiny room was overwhelmed with sound, the bed creaking and your lips locking, and your bodies meeting in a loud wet smack. something about it turned you on more than you thought you were capable. 
jaehyun thought he could watch you on top of him for hours upon hours. his hands wandered to your breasts as you kissed him, tenderly fondling them and brushing his thumbs over your stiff tits. you were riding him into the night like there was no tomorrow, like you had something to prove, and he loved every second of it.
the softest of whimpers escaped your mouth when you pulled back, brushing your hair behind your ears. you couldn’t fathom the ecstasy hanging over you, blindsiding you. maybe it was in your head, but you swore you could feel him in the pit of your stomach, and you didn’t know whether that was normal or not.
jaehyun affectionately gathered your hands in his, holding them as you desperately tried to anchor yourself and make sense of the many things you were feeling at once.
it wasn’t an overstatement to say that you were seeing stars. you and jaehyun were getting each other off, every guttural sound he made taking you to the moon, and every twist your face made sending him crashing into the atmosphere.
you were flush against him, kneading his cock perfectly, and that made jaehyun mumble curses underneath his breath. “goddamn, beautiful. slow down,” he said.
but you didn’t want to slow down the pace, you only wanted to keep the fire burning. you laughed breathlessly and teased, “why? is it too much for you?”
jaehyun chuckled and swore as he closed his eyes, not wanting to admit that you were unraveling him quicker than he’d expected. if this was your first time, why did it feel like you were deflowering him, exposing him to a kind of euphoria that was unlike anything he had felt before. 
he had been intent on dragging things out, but you were making him weak underneath your fingertips. damn, he wanted to thrust his hips up into yours, but he had a feeling you wanted to take the lead, for your own sake. 
“maybe it is,” jaehyun confessed, much to your surprise. “maybe you’re getting me off too fast and it’s hurting my pride.”
“cum, baby,” you whispered sultrily, wanting to see a guy like him fold under pressure. it would be like making a grown man cry. “i want to see it.”
jaehyun sucked in a breath at those words, accepting his fate. you were bringing him closer to the end and there was nothing that he could do about it, even if he wanted to.
you were glistening in coats of sweat from head to toe, and your thighs were starting to ache, but all you had to do was hold on for a little while longer. it was obvious that jaehyun wasn’t far from the finish line, and in truth, neither were you.
it didn’t help that jaehyun was unintentionally imagining things that would get him off sooner. thoughts of you were all that occupied him, picturing how it feel to fuck you raw and hard, holding you squarely beneath him. you were pretty on top of him, but he was enamored with how you had squirmed and cried out underneath him, too.
you had forgotten about everything else in the entire world while you rode jaehyun to the ends of it and back. no part of you thought about your hectic life back home, about the life you’d planned in boston, and everything in between.
the only thing on your mind was jaehyun and in spite of being totally consumed by something, it was the most peaceful your thoughts had been in months.
you could feel jaehyun’s eyes rooted on you and glanced down to meet his gaze, noticing him smiling up at you. when he looked at you like that, he made you feel so wanted. you were naked and bare in front of him, in a literal sense, and he’d accepted every piece of you.
“what are you smiling at, silly?” you asked in between thick breaths. 
“you,” jaehyun replied, like it was obvious. “you’re so damn beautiful, you know. i could fuck you forever.”
not wanting to show how much that had gotten to you, you quipped, “i think i’m the one doing the fucking here.”
jaehyun chuckled, and you thought it was because of what you had said, but he had felt you pulsing around his cock, and he was amused by how easy it was.
the room was getting hotter than ever and it was becoming harder to breathe with the stuffy air. you almost thought that your skin was on fire, and you were scalding on the inside. you were going even harder now, chasing relief.
jaehyun was losing his self-control and he couldn’t help but lift his hips into yours, making you gasp loudly. your head leaned back as you both rocked your hips, desperately trying to finish yourselves.
“jay,” you cried out again, tightening your hold on your hands to ground yourself like you thought you might fly off somewhere.
“i’m right here, darling,” jaehyun crooned, holding your hands firmly. “i’m not going anywhere.”
you nodded your head, trusting him, giving in to him. 
everything after that was almost a blur. the rapture had you lightheaded, and all you remembered was the heat spitting through your core and your toes curling. 
but jaehyun remembered so much more than that. he could picture the exact look on your face that did it for him, unraveling him, sending him cursing at the stars. the tremble that shuddered through his thighs as his cock twitched. he remembered the way your pussy throttled him as you orgasmed, moaning his name. 
when it was over, you collapsed onto his chest, panting and heaving as if you had ran a marathon together. 
neither of you made a move to shift positions for a long while, jaehyun simply admiring the feeling of your bodies sticking together. “are you okay?”
you weakly nodded your head. that word was an understatement, but you didn’t have the strength in your bones to muster a better one yet. few pleasures came close to the kind you were currently reaping the afterhighs of. 
god, you weren’t stupid enough to throw everything away for some boy you’d just met, but he made you want to. 
jaehyun preciously kissed your neck and shoulders. “go to the bathroom,” he whispered. “i’ll go in after you.”
“okay,” you replied obediently, starting to peel yourself off him, until you had a thought. “are you gonna stay?”
jaehyun’s brows furrowed. “do you want me to stay?”
of course, you did. you had just lost your virginity to him in the best way possible, exposed yourself to him in a way no one else had ever seen, including yourself. not only that, but considering you were a young girl in the middle of essentially nowhere, being around a kindhearted, strong guy made you feel safer.
“please,” you said, wanting to be nowhere else but in his arms for the meantime. 
jaehyun smiled and kissed you again, the corner of your mouth this time. “okay, but i have to leave early in the morning. i can’t slack off forever.”
you did the same, throwing your arms around his neck, before bringing your lips to his neck and whispering, “couldn’t you?”
“you drive me insane, woman,” jaehyun groaned, sensing himself getting riled up again. 
you giggled, finally crawling off him and heading towards the bathroom, but not before demanding, “don’t move.”
jaehyun had no place else that he’d rather be, even if he was in some moderately crappy motel that was understaffed and a playground to creeps. you were there, so it might as well have been like home.
when you returned to the room, jaehyun was still there, only he had disposed of the condom now and he was no longer naked. he went in after you, like he said he would, and came back to also find you redressed.
well, sort of. beyond putting back on your bra and panties, your efforts were a little more nonexistent.
“well, now i feel overdressed,” was the first thing jaehyun said when he came back. 
you burst into giggles. “because you are.”
with that, jaehyun stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and came to join you on the bed, melting into your side. he couldn’t help but steal a few more kisses, completely under your spell now. 
the two of you got comfortable. it was clear that jaehyun had no intention of returning to work tonight and had the motel been busier, you would’ve urged him back to his shift. rose creek would be fine without him for a few hours, maybe longer.
you were more important, and jaehyun seemed to think so too, eager to know you better. “so,” he started. “does your family know you’re in connecticut right now?”
you couldn’t help but laugh. “hell no. as far as they know, i just vanished in the middle of the night. i didn’t tell them i was going to boston, either. i probably should’ve picked somewhere down south, or on the west coast, but i don’t think they’d bother looking.”
jaehyun frowned the more he heard your words, displeased by how much strife it seemed you had with your own blood. “why not? disobedient soul or not, you’re still their flesh.”
try telling them that, please, you thought, but didn’t say. “because i’m the black sheep,” you explained. “i’m the child that didn’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer.”
“what do you want to be?” jaehyun asked, pulling you closer. looking at you as if he genuinely wanted to know.
it surprised you, because rarely did you meet anyone who seemed to have cared. “a vet,” you grumbled, feeling stupid.
“now that’s a surprise,” jaehyun replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. and when you smiled an inch, he felt like he was getting somewhere. “but i think it suits you. you’d be a great vet.”
your cheeks were burning. it was embarrassing and heartwarming at the same time to have your aspirations validated for once. it was too strange for you and you said, “i’m talking about myself too much. what about you? you said this was part-time. do you have a full-time job?”
“to be honest, i haven’t really worked a lot since i graduated. my parents own a lot of property in the state and this is just one of them. the others are better, i promise,” jaehyun said.
for some reason, that made a lot of sense. jaehyun seemed a little too extravagant for this sort of environment. “you know, that clears up a lot questions i had about you. but then, why work here instead of someplace better?”
“in case you haven’t noticed, hardly anyone comes out here.”
you snickered to yourself when you realized the appeal of working here for a guy like jaehyun. fewer crowds, fewer interactions, and more excuses to be sleeping around with pretty girls instead of legitimately working.
“but i do work for certain things. i didn’t have everything handed to me,” jaehyun said to clarify. “i’ve been trying to settle down. i know it doesn’t look like it right now, but i have. and i want to give my future family everything.”
that didn’t surprise you either, but it did garner your attention. “oh?”
jaehyun nodded. “yup. my parents have been begging me to bring a girl home for three, four years now. they said that they know i’ll be married someday, but they’re not as confident that they’ll be around to see it.”
considering that jaehyun did come across as slow and steady, for the most part at least, you laughed, because the only reason they weren’t right to be unconfident was jaehyun’s good looks and charming personality. 
you tossed an arm over him, peering into his eyes. “what’s stopping you?”
jaehyun shrugged. if he had it his way, he would’ve brought someone home forever ago, but he’d found that few things went according to plan in his love life. “haven’t found the one, i guess.”
that was fair. you wanted a family too someday, but never in your life had you met somebody that you would let do more than kiss you, until jaehyun. 
“the thing with love is that it’s trial and error,” jaehyun told you, coming from a place of obvious experience. “so many girls i thought were perfect, until they showed me their true colors. and it hurts to cut them loose, but you have to.”
“i wouldn’t know,” you mumbled. “i’ve never been in love.”
jaehyun’s eyes fell down to your gorgeous hand that was resting above his happy trail and smiled to himself. “you will be, i’m sure. i think love is out there for all of us, patiently waiting.”
you furrowed your brows, like those were the last words you expected to here out of his mouth. “so, you’re one of those.”
the look on jaehyun’s face matched yours. “one of what?”
“a hopeless romantic,” you sighed, but there was a smile on your face. 
jaehyun laughed. “i guess you could say that, but i just tell people that i’m ambitious.”
“well, mister ambitious,” you said, stifling a yawn. “i’m sleepy, and you’ve worn me out for one day. promise to tell me more about yourself tomorrow?”
jaehyun nodded, then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “i promise. i get off early tomorrow, so we’ll have more time together. goodnight, baby.”
“goodnight, jaehyun,” you whispered, snuggling into his chest.
like he couldn’t get enough of you, jaehyun gave you one final kiss on your forehead before he turned off the lamp on the nightstand. he had his arms around you, your back flush against his chest, and you stayed that way until night’s end.
it was some of the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. being in jaehyun’s arms made you feel comfortable, protected. you weren’t certain why, but it was like no harm could reach you there. you were untouchable and you didn’t have to worry about anything.
when you woke up, you were surprised to still find him there, barely awake himself. “you’re still here?” you asked, unexpectant.
jaehyun grinned at you when you turned to rest your head on his chest and replied groggily, “i thought i’d stay to hear your pretty voice one more time before i left.”
you rolled your eyes at his obvious flirting, but there was a huge beaming smile on your face and you were kissing him affectionately merely seconds later.
one thing lead to another. you swore you didn’t know how it happened. slow, sweet kisses were met by languid, intentional touches, until jaehyun was on top of you, fucking every bit of sleepiness out of your body.
the tiniest moans escaped you as jaehyun rocked his hips into you, slow and gentle, and you clung onto his forearms to anchor yourself back down to earth. he was whispering dirty little nothings in your ear, telling you how good you were to him, unraveling by the minute. 
it just felt too good having him inside you, filling you to the hilt and making your bodies seem inseparable. you loved being tangled together, limb to limb, pleasuring each other like there was no other option. it was the first time you had craved someone so desperately. 
you didn’t want to get out of bed when he was gone. you had all the energy in the world, but you were unfathomably sore. somehow, in a good way. you liked feeling the traces of jaehyun in your bones long after he had slipped away. 
deciding not to rot in bed while you waited for him to return, you got up to take a shower and rinse away the scent of sex from your body. it would be a while, anyway. jaehyun had mentioned something about going back to his place for a minute. 
part of you wanted to feel guilty for keeping him overnight, but you couldn’t. not when you knew that he had enjoyed it as much as you had. you wanted jaehyun, and he wanted you. there were no doubts. 
drying off, you noticed that you had used the last towel and you would need more to cover the last two days of your extended stay here. you got dressed and headed down to the main lobby, requesting some from the guy that had been working the desk since you got there. 
you leaned against the wall while you waited, your thoughts naturally wandering off to jaehyun and his handsome face and stupidly adorable dimples. and maybe his unthinkably talented cock, but only for a second or two. maybe three.
it was strange that he had been the only thing you knew your entire time here, and even then, you barely knew him. under different circumstances, you would have wanted to know all there was to know about jaehyun. you would always remember him, even when he was forever gone. 
“those towels you wanted,” said the guy working the desk, snapping you out of your daydream. 
you walked up to the desk, smiling kindly as you accepted them. “thank you. sorry for the inconvenience.”
“it’s fine. have a good day,” he replied, smiling back suspiciously wide. 
you didn’t comment on it, wishing him the same and heading for the door. 
before you could reach it though, you heard his voice again. “by the way, i heard you getting it good when i was making my rounds,” he told you slyly. “how much for the inconvenience?”
dickhead, you thought. your smile dropped and you switched on a dime, shooting him a hefty glare. “i’m not for sale,” you grumbled, storming the fuck out of there. 
god, why were the interactions you had with men at this motel getting increasingly weirder? had not jaehyun been keeping you around, you would have been on the next train to boston days ago. 
you were angry as hell at being propositioned for sex by some random stranger, but you tried to let it go. although you would definitely be ranting to jaehyun about it later. speaking of, on the way back to your room, you noticed the door to one a few rooms down was ajar. 
it was frequented by jaehyun, you’d accidentally noticed. sometimes, you would see him come and go, way too often for any customers to be staying there.
you didn’t mean to pry. you had only gone up to check if he had already arrived, but there was no sight of him anywhere. the one thing that was clear was that he spent a hell of a lot of time here.
there weren’t too many things, considering he didn’t live there, but there were a couple of uneaten snacks sitting on the table. and a purple hair tie that you barely paid any mind to. on the nightstand, there was a framed picture of jaehyun with some girl you’d never seen.
it seemed like they were pretty close, all things considered. he had an arm wound tightly around her, and her head was resting on his shoulder. you weren’t jealous, especially considering he looked nearly a decade younger in the picture, and you instead found it cute that he looked so different and not at the same time. 
given the different trends at the time, his hair was in a completely different style. his cheeks were a little rounder. but he still had the same silly, goofy smile. 
realizing what you were doing was definitely a major invasion of privacy, you scurried out of there with your towels and headed back to your room to restock. 
jaehyun came knocking way too many hours later, but the second you heard, you leapt up, swinging the door open and throwing them around his shoulders. “what took you so long?” you asked sullenly. 
jaehyun was pleasantly surprised by the abrupt display of affection, embracing you. “i decided to get everything done so that i could come straight to you, and didn’t have to leave.”
well, that made sense. when you pulled back, you noticed that he wasn’t in his uniform for a change. “this is my first time seeing you in normal person’s clothes. you look different. good different.”
“thanks, beautiful,” he replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. “may i come in?”
you stepped to the side, letting him enter, and shut the door behind him. 
jaehyun seemed amused when he noticed the television was on, showing some anthropology program he had never watched. “did i interrupt?”
it took you a second to realize what he meant, but when you did, you were all giggles. “no, you’re way more important.”
jaehyun was glad to hear that. “by the way, did you have fun sneaking into my room?”
the sudden accusation startled you, but you didn’t deny what you had done. he somehow clearly already knew that you’d nosed around, and you weren’t one to make excuses nor lie. “that was rude. i should’ve asked for your permission. i’m sorry.”
something about your sincerity made jaehyun smile and wave it off. “it’s fine. i don’t have anything to hide.”
either way, you still felt a little guilty. you wanted to ask him who that girl in the picture was, but you decided that you’d done enough snooping.
noticing the shame on your face, jaehyun beckoned you over, commanding, “come here.” and when you promptly did as told, he smoothed his fingers through your hair and reassured, “i told you, it’s fine. forget about it. now, talk to me.”
you melted into jaehyun’s touch, and forgave yourself, forgetting about what you had done, forgetting about all of the awful parts of your day that were no longer relevant now that you were comfortable in jaehyun’s arms.
minutes turned into hours before you were ready for them to, and you almost couldn’t believe how easily you had made a friend out of jaehyun. he was just so easy to talk to, getting you to confess about your less than happy past and chat about your hopes for the future like you were lifelong buddies.
and to your surprise, he made no attempt to try and sleep with you that night. it seemed that jaehyun was fully intent on getting to know you for the young woman that you were.
every now and then, you got the feeling that he was more into you than it was safe for him to be, and more than you could fathom him being so quickly, and knowing that you would be leaving soon, it crushed you. no part of you wanted to see his face when it was time to say goodbye.
but when you woke up the next day, you were smiling. jaehyun had slipped away, something about having errands to run unrelated to work, and you were counting down the seconds until he would come back. 
it was your last full day together.
the thought saddened and excited you all at once, overwhelming you to the core. you had convinced yourself that although jaehyun had made you feel something nobody else ever had, you would move on the second you got a step closer to bringing your dreams to fruition. but until then, you were a little heartbroken.
you had to be real with yourself for a second. could there be a way for a guy almost a decade older than you to be someone you spent the better half of your life with?
you didn’t think so. you and jaehyun led different lives. and while you hoped he would soon find the girl he had long dreamed of, you knew that she wasn’t you. 
who were you to keep him down, when he could be searching for her?
not to mention you weren’t even ready for such large of a commitment. you wanted to complete school and graduate, eight years of your life at least that you would be hard at work, studying your ass off. jaehyun struck you as the marriage and kids kind of boy, none of which you were prepared for.
he’ll be fine. you’re acting like he’s in love with you or something, you told yourself, sitting on your empty bed. there was no way someone as handsome as jaehyun hadn’t had his fair share of short-term flings.
at some point, you quickly became bored of waiting and decided to go on your phone, which you shockingly hadn’t been giving much attention lately. there were some texts from your friends, the only ones you had mentioned connecticut to, and you promptly messaged them back. 
there weren’t any notifications from your family, but whether that was only because you blocked them or not, you didn’t know. 
then, you opened google and started to search random questions, as you often did when there was nothing more exhilarating to do. you had a couple of questions about toothbrushes, a word your friend had sent that you had never seen before, and finally, the motel itself.
you didn’t know why you hadn’t googled any information about it sooner. most likely because you didn’t think you would be welcomed for so long, but either way, it should’ve been one of the first things you’d done.
out of weary curiosity, you typed the name of the motel into your search engine, and the first thing you saw was a picture of the front exterior.
the next thing you saw, however, was a little more appalling. there was a news article from a little more than a month ago reporting the death of a girl named alyssa gardner.
rose creek, named in memory of rose bellori who was found there after being tragically murdered thirty-eight years ago, suffers another victims, says local police department. twenty-four year old alyssa gardner was found in the creek three weeks after being reported missing. her last known location prior to her murder was rose creek motel, according to her bank statements.
once you read the first sentence, you couldn’t stop, remembering what that old man had told you about the bodies that turned up in the creek. and as you continued to look into the murder, you froze, reading something about how she had last been wearing a purple hair tie.
there had been a purple hair tie in jaehyun’s room, you remembered, because it was on the table beside the snacks. it could have been a coincidence, but although his hair was long enough, you had never seen jaehyun tie up his hair.
now you had to know. there was a picture of alyssa wearing the tie and it was so specific, there was no way you wouldn’t know if they were the same just by looking. but you had no clue how you would get in there. after your invasion yesterday, there was no way jaehyun would reasonably make the mistake of leaving it open again, even if he claimed to have nothing to hide.
you slipped on your shoes, brainstorming on your way to the room, considering jaehyun wouldn’t have been back for a few hours, according to himself. your first thought was the guy at the front desk, but if he did do you a favor, he would want something in return that wasn’t cheap. nor were you selling.
fortunately, another man started to walk by, an employee, judging by his uniform. “excuse me, sir,” you said, donning your most helpless voice. “is there a way you could help me get in this room? i left my key inside by mistake.”
obviously believing you, the man said, “yeah, of course. i have a general key card right here.”
and just that easily, he opened the door for you. 
“thank you so much,” you told him, expressing your gratitude before closing the door to jaehyun’s room behind yourself. 
you felt bad for lying, but your gut was screaming at you right now and you were tempted to trust her now more than ever. you raced to the table, shoving the snack box out of the way, and gawking in horror when you found what you were looking for.
it was the purple hair tie, and not only was it the exact same color and design as you had seen in the picture, but there were traces of hair on it that didn’t match the dark color on jaehyun’s head.
you backed away, the blood freezing over in your veins. the shock was too cruel, too icy, and there were a billion thoughts racing through your mind. 
but at the forefront of them all, you were thinking, i’ve got to get the fuck out of here.
you stepped out of the room, clearing the hallway before you made a beeline for yours, making a call and shoving your things into your suitcase. you weren’t supposed to be leaving until tomorrow, but you figured it was in your best interest to escape before things had the opportunity to go wrong.
there was no time to think about how your judgment could have been so awful, because all you wanted to do was go far, far away from this place, where you would finally be safe from all the things in this world that wanted to hurt you.
the second your belongings were packed, you checked out at the front desk, noticing that the dude from yesterday was strangely no longer there, replaced by a woman you had never seen before. but you didn’t ask questions, didn’t press.
because the second you were free to go, you were dragging your suitcase to the road and praying that uber would get here before jaehyun could.
until you felt something cold pressing into your back, and every bone in your body went stiff. “leaving without saying goodbye?” asked a familiar voice, coming out of nowhere. 
tears began to sting your eyes, fear making your blood run cold. you couldn’t see him, but your whole body knew who it was. “please.”
“let’s take a walk,” jaehyun said nonchalantly, pointing with the hand that wasn’t discreetly holding a gun to your back.
given the circumstances, there was no way in hell that you wouldn’t do as told. you walked to the right of the motel with your suitcase in tow, far out of sight of any cameras that might’ve been privy to your predicament, willing yourself to breathe lest you fell apart then and there.
it had never been more of a struggle to walk, and it was like you had nearly forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. your brain was hyper aware of the weapon not even an inch away from you.
through your blurry vision, you could make out a car coming into view. jaehyun asked, “do you have your license?” 
you nodded, afraid to speak. 
“good. this suitcase could’ve been you,” jaehyun said, taking the suitcase out of your hands to throw into the trunk. “you’re driving.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. it terrified you how indifferent jaehyun seemed, walking you over to the driver’s side of the car and opening the door for you, meanwhile you looked as if you had seen a ghost.
only when he got in on the other side did he hand over the keys, still pointing the gun at you and calmly ordering, “drive. i’ll tell you where to go.”
and that was exactly what he did, telling you directions as you made every turn he told you to, not that there were very many.
every second was spent fighting tears and trying to keep your thoughts from racing. you could’ve never seen something like this coming. you had felt so safe, so secure around jaehyun, and now he was threatening you with a weapon.
god, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to you. would he murder you in cold blood like that girl in the news article?
your first thought was to try and coax your way out of it. as if killers listened to logic and reasoning, outside of their own. “jaehyun, you don’t have to do this. you can let me go.”
jaehyun laughed, although you were dead serious. “so that you can go straight to the police? or worse, leave me here by myself?”
“it doesn’t have to be like that,” you whispered. “i like you a lot, jaehyun.”
“i like you a lot, too. that’s why i have to do this, darling.”
“i don’t understand.”
“i know,” jaehyun replied coolly. “it’ll all make sense soon.”
that statement didn’t make you feel any better. instead, you were enveloped by a deep feeling of cold dread, sensing that the worst had yet to come and you needed to brace yourself for the inevitable.
no more than thirty minutes of driving later, jaehyun told you to pull into the driveway of some house along the creek. you wanted to scream when he pulled you out of the car, but the house you were at was isolated from the rest of the world. nobody would have ever heard you even if the cry came from the very tip of your lungs.
but you noticed that he had left his gun in the car. 
you tried to break out of his grasp, but jaehyun was tremendously stronger than you, and he didn’t seem to like your actions much, hissing, “i don’t want to hurt you, but don’t think i won’t.”
no part of you believed that he didn’t want to hurt you, not even for a second. “let me go. i want to go home!”
“no, you don’t,” jaehyun shot back, tightening his clasp on your bicep. “you want to be anywhere but there. don’t act like i haven’t been doing you a favor.”
“don’t act like you know me,” you snapped, still trying to wrest your way out of his hold. 
jaehyun laughed, but it was mirthless. “honey, i do know you. you told me enough about you. i know what you like, and what you don’t like, and how vicious your parents are to you. i know that you don’t ever want to go back home.”
you didn’t know what was worse between being here right now and being home, and that thought made ache spring into your chest ravishingly. 
“i should’ve known you’d find out sooner than i’d hoped,” jaehyun said. “you’re a smart woman, but that’s one of the many things i love about you.”
tears continued to well your eyes, but they were angry now. “let go of me!”
jaehyun began to become exasperated, dragging you over to the edge of the creek, but you didn’t stop demanding to be freed, flailing and thrashing. 
not until you finally exclaimed, “if you’re going to kill me, then kill me already!”
to your surprise, that made jaehyun root in place for a moment or two. “i think you’re confused.”
you were glaring up at him. “wasn’t that your plan?”
for an unsettling amount of time, jaehyun just stared at you emptily. then, he began to laugh heartily, amused to no end. “now why on earth would i want to do that?” he asked.
you said nothing, startled and baffled altogether.
jaehyun smiled at you. the sight warmed your heart no more than a day ago, but now, you were thoroughly unnerved. “baby, you’re perfect. you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. you may be a little younger than i usually go for, but maybe that’s where i went wrong. with you, it’s not too late to fix the little things. like all this resistance.”
nothing could have prepared you for the sudden change in him, for him to throw you to the ground and submerge your head underneath the water of the creek.
it felt and sounded like the whole world had stopped for a moment before the panic started to settle in cruelly, and you inhaled more water than you had been prepared to. your body desperately missed air, and every time it tried to breathe, only more water entered your mouth. 
when jaehyun yanked you back up by your hair, you spat out a load of water, and began to cough. he asked, “learn your lesson?”
you said nothing. you couldn’t at that point. 
jaehyun took it as defiance and lowered your head back underneath the water again, giving you no time to recover from the previous plunge, and your entire body fought against it, but your efforts were in vain. 
and like before, he pulled you up and asked, “learn your lesson?”
“fuck you,” you spat as belligerently as you could between breaths, even though it hurt to talk. 
jaehyun said nothing, throwing your head back down. 
at this point, your lungs were scorching and your nose was burning. your chest was smoldering with pain and panic and everything in between. helpless, your mind was begging for mercy, but the more you prayed for the water to escape, the more you inhaled.
your muscles were screaming for air and you genuinely thought that you were going to die, that this was the end. you would never know the life you had long dreamed of, the life you had risked everything to have, and the one you had always wanted.
it felt like an eternity had passed when jaehyun brought you back up to the surface and asked you again boredly, “learn your lesson?”
you said nothing, spitting out more bursts of water and gasping for breaths that burned your throat.
jaehyun was about to submerge you again, but at the very last second, you blurted, “okay, okay! i’m sorry. i learned my lesson!”
“good,” jaehyun said, pulling you up and dusting his hands off. “let’s go inside.”
you didn’t dare disobey, letting him lead you inside the house, which you assumed he owned. there wasn’t any time to marvel at the sheer beauty of it before he was tugging you downstairs to the basement where there was already a mattress waiting for you. 
whether that had been prepared for you, or leftovers from the last victim, you didn’t want to know.
jaehyun took one look at your flushed, tear-stained face and softened. he brought a finger to your cheek, but you lurched away from him, like a startled animal in a cage. which, to be fair, wasn’t too far from the truth. 
he frowned. “i wish you didn’t have to be so nosy, baby. i didn’t want you to see me any differently than before.”
it’s too late for that, you huffed to yourself. you fell to the ground beside the mattress, hugging your knees.
jaehyun glanced down at you sighing, debating coming over to join you, but decided against it. for now. “but you don’t have to worry anymore. you’re safe with me. nothing can hurt you as long as i’m here. god, i’ve made sure of it. it angered me to no end when i saw that guy in the lobby flirting with you.”
you immediately remembered what had happened in that lobby, something you had been intent to mention to him but forgot, and the blood drained from your face. “what did you do to him?” you asked. 
“what do you think?”
you shook your head. no wonder there had been another person working the front desk earlier. you hugged your knees tighter and cried, “he was just some jerk, jaehyun. you didn’t need to kill him.”
“yes, i did. i would kill anyone who ever dare dreamed of touching you,” jaehyun insisted darkly.
now that you thought about it even harder, there was no reason for jaehyun to even know that that whole ordeal went down in the first place. he hadn’t been there when it happened. you slowly glanced up, asking, “how did you… know?”
jaehyun chuckled. “because i’ve been watching you, silly. how else?”
no shame, no guilt. he seemed proud of himself, grinning from ear to ear. the sight made you sick, but not as sick as it did to know that he had been essentially spying on you in his free time. you remembered, only a few days ago, asking him if the cameras were really functioning.
your stomach churned. that was why he always seemed to know where you were, to always drop into the places you were. that was how he knew you has been in his room, and how he knew you were fleeing.
even though you felt like vomiting the more information you learned, you needed to know the truth. “why did you kill that girl?”
“which one?” jaehyun asked, which made your heart stop in absolute terror. “if you’re talking about alyssa, i found out she was addicted to drugs. god, everything was going so smoothly until all of that.”
if you could’ve convinced yourself that you were only in a nightmare, you would have, but the pain in your chest and throat was too aggressive. “i bet you killed that girl in the picture too,” you replied hoarsely.
jaehyun’s eyes darkened, but it was less anger and more of a morose kind of emotion. “no, that’s not true. she died in a car accident.”
given the pain tensing his features, you believed him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to have any sympathy.
jaehyun continued, “we were eighteen and we had just graduated. she was the girl everyone wanted me to be with, and the one i thought would always be with. then one day, she was just gone. i’ll never forget getting that phone call in the middle of the night.”
the words he used made you remember something. you had asked him what his first time was like, and jaehyun had told you something along the lines of it being with someone he thought he would spend forever with.
that was her, the girl he had loved and lost. 
“i’m sorry you went through that,” you whispered, feeling as though you were obligated to console him in some way. 
“i am, too,” jaehyun mumbled. “but life goes on. and i found you. god, you don’t know how many times i had to go through this to find you, but it’s over now. you remind me of her a lot.”
you froze in your own skin, suddenly having an epiphany. you didn’t understand before, why jaehyun was doing all this, but it was all coming together now.
life may have moved on, but jaehyun had not. instead of getting over the girl he had lost so many years ago, he was trying to recreate her, to get her back in some sick, twisted way. you would be the vessel needed to resuscitate her, and the girls before you were the other candidates that didn’t meet the mark. 
he had told you that. not outright, but it was what he’d meant, and the confession went right over your head. so many girls i thought were perfect, until they showed me their true colors. and it hurts to cut them loose, but you have to.
jaehyun wasn’t killing girls out of some sadistic hatred. matter of fact, he didn’t even want to kill them, but he felt obligated to eliminate the unworthy. he was killing because they ultimately didn’t meet his standards.
which implied that someway, somehow, you did. as he put it, you were everything he’d ever wanted. 
“why me?” you asked, rubbing your eyes clear of tears.
jaehyun at last approached you, and although you wanted to back away and hide, there was nowhere for you to go. “easy. from what you’ve told me, you’re the black sheep of your family. you didn’t even tell them where you were going. nobody is going to look for you. nobody will miss you. you’re perfect.”
those words were crueler than he intended for them to be, but jaehyun wanted to be truthful with you, because that was the key to a long-lasting relationship. he wouldn’t hide from you, and he wouldn’t allow you to hide from him. you would be perfectly honest with each other.
“we’re going to have kids together someday,” jaehyun rambled, holding your cheeks in his hands gingerly, almost with affection. “i’m going to take you to meet my parents, and they’re going to love you, because i love you. and we’re going to stay in this house.”
you glanced around. “here?”
jaehyun sported a beaming smile. “it’s perfect, isn’t it? you love nature, and we’ll live right here along the creek. it’ll be just like how you grew up, except you’ll be accepted here.”
perfect, you repeated in your head bitterly. jaehyun seemed to be as obsessed with that word as he was with you. he couldn’t stop saying it, and that revealed even more about his intentions the more he used it.
noticing the tension in your face, jaehyun squeezed your hand and tried to console you. “don’t worry, i’m not going to keep you from your dreams. but you’re going to stay in this basement until you understand that you belong to me, and i belong to you.”
“i’m not your fucking property,” you hissed with unadulterated vitriol.
obviously, jaehyun was growing exhausted of having to put up with your less than meek behavior, and before you could apologize, he hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed. you made a tiny, broken noise when he began to squeeze your throat instead. “i will whip you into shape if i have to,” jaehyun growled. “i will fuck you into shape, everyday, if that’s what it takes, dear. i already made up my mind. you’re mine and i won’t let anyone else have you.”
your throat still ached from the pain of nearly drowning three times over, sorely pleading for quiet remorse, but jaehyun was nothing short of committed. he would stop at nothing to bend you into submission, no matter the price needed, because when he wanted something enough, there was nobody that could tell him that it wasn’t his for the reaping.
not his parents, not you, not anyone.
true to his word, jaehyun began to force one his hands underneath your pleaded skirt. he liked that you wore them, initially because he found them strangely cute on you, but now because of the easy access he had to everything he wanted.
you thrashed again enervatedly, sore from head to toe, but you told yourself endlessly that you weren’t a quitter. you couldn’t let him break you, not until he had broken all the fight out of you first. it would go against everything you stood for, everything you believed.
“behave,” jaehyun said. “behave, or you’ll only make it worse on yourself.”
you roared expletives into his palm that jaehyun couldn’t understand, nor did he bother to. not after he had caught a glimpse of your precious cunt and he had already begun to imagine making sweet love to you. the lingering picture was all he could think of.
how you had gripped his biceps, brows tensing together, calling out his name and his name only. jaehyun knew you reciprocated his pining. he had seen the proof, felt it dripping and pulsing around his cock, milking his release out of him even quicker than he had hoped.
and really, honestly, jaehyun didn’t want to hurt you or cause you any needless pain. one day, you would understand that he was only doing this from of a place of love and endearment. you gasped for breath when the hand on your throat finally slackened, sucking in the sharpest one you had ever inhaled, and could feel the basement reeling.
while you were busy blinking the misty daze out of your eyes, jaehyun ran a hand between your legs, touching your clit. “jaehyun, stop,” you rasped. 
“shh, let me make you feel good,” jaehyun crooned softly in your ear. 
it was maddening that your body still reacted fondly to his deep voice and tender touches, and you hated every second of it. you resisted him, pressing your thighs together, but it took little to nothing for jaehyun to spread them apart again, and your body naturally liked his strength, too. 
still, you tried to swat his hand away. now that you knew the truth of who he was really was, what he really was, you couldn’t stand to let a monster like jaehyun to touch you. 
jaehyun sighed irritably, and the look on his face made you shudder. “you’re just going to keep being a bitch about it, aren’t you?”
he only wanted to pleasure you, for fuck’s sake. why wouldn’t you let him?
“i don’t want this,” you whimpered, peering up at jaehyun as you welled up with tears. 
“yes, you do,” jaehyun told you, as if he was trying to convince you of something you already knew wasn’t true. “you do want it. remember?”
you shook your head, defiant. “that was before. it’s different now.”
“nothing has changed between us.” 
“everything has changed!” you cried out, bursting into sobs. “you’re not who i thought you were. you… hurt me.”
“i didn’t want to. i promise that i didn’t, honey,” jaehyun whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “and the sooner you listen to me, the sooner i can make you feel better.”
he started to do exactly that, returning between your legs, this time sticking his face beneath your skirt. jaehyun went to town, pulling out all the stops that he remembered had you singing his praises. 
not a moment later, you slumped in defeat, too weak from your unwanted orgasm to deny him any longer. jaehyun smirked when he noticed you twitching from the aftershocks, licking his wet lips that had gotten soaked with your arousal.
“that’s it, baby,” jaehyun said, proud of himself. he liked worshiping you, and even if you didn’t want to admit it, he knew he brought you to elysian heights. “ready to take my cock?”
you shook your head wearily, but jaehyun didn’t believe you. only the day before yesterday, you had been so eager.
“come on, don’t be that way. you know you love this dick,” jaehyun said. he had never looked more sure of himself, not hesitating to step out of his clothes.
although you wanted nothing more than to defy him, to spring up and make a beeline for the nearest door, you couldn’t bring yourself to. there wasn’t even time for you to tell him to stop before jaehyun was spreading you open, prodding your entrance with the head of his cock.
and you were so wet that in spite of his size, he slipped inside with ease.
jaehyun grunted at the first push of his cock inside you, slowly coaxing his way deeper. he slipped his fingers through yours, knowing that you liked to use his hand to anchor yourself because you quickly got overwhelmed by his size.
but he noticed that each time you were taking him even better, and jaehyun liked the thought of successfully breaking you in. to him, it was the perfect fit. it was a sign that you were made for him to fuck and breed. your vice-like walls were gushing around him, kneading him, swallowing him whole. only him.
“that’s good, baby. don’t run from it,” jaehyun crooned in your ears before sealing your lips together.
jaehyun didn’t notice that you weren’t kissing him back. when his eyes were closed and he was buried some inches deep inside your pussy, it became easier to convince himself anything. because you may have denied him, but jaehyun thought the body never lied, and yours was calling out to him. 
the weight of your body rocked in tandem with his thrusts and jaehyun, wanting a better view of you, started to tug your shirt off. he already knew how to make you weak for him, sucking at your breasts.
every cry of protest you made fell on deaf ears, because all jaehyun heard was that familiar breathlessness in your voice when he was making you feel good. 
and that was more than enough to jaehyun. because if he had you, and you had him, nothing else mattered. why would you need some other guy in some faraway place when he had made you feel things you never knew you were even capable of?
he never even thought about how of those feelings he had plucked out of you, something could’ve completely overpowered any pleasant feelings you ever had.
it surprised you when jaehyun grinded to a halt and pulled out of you, but you should’ve known better than to think he was finished. “get on top of me,” jaehyun told you, overcome by memories. “i want you to ride me. like how you rode me that day.”
jaehyun had this dazed look in his eyes that made him look more dangerous and unhinged than he ever had, and that was the sole reason you were so quick to scramble on top of him, but jaehyun smiled, because he only saw it as unadulterated desire.
you grabbed his shoulders as you forced yourself to mount him, his hands slipping down to your backside, supporting you with his palms. it hadn’t been too long since they were someplace you could feel secure for the first time in a long while. and now that comfort was gone, and you had nowhere else to go, nothing else to turn to but yourself.
maybe you had been naive to think that someone could genuinely, truthfully like you. whatever jaehyun felt for you, or at least thought that he did, was purebred obsession and without it there would be nothing left. 
it was the one thing keeping you breathing, and yet the one thing killing you slowly.
something wet dripped onto the pillar of jaehyun’s shoulder and he saw that you were sobbing. tears of pleasure, he told himself. he remembered the wet glaze in your stare when the two of you had fucked the other day, too. nothing as theatrical as this, though he was certain it didn’t make a difference. 
but jaehyun wasn’t afraid to hurt you, that much was clear. he may not have particularly liked it anymore than you did, but he would use it to justify everything. it’s okay if it hurts, because love hurts, he would console himself, telling himself that you would be okay.
“one day you’ll understand that i’m doing this because i want what’s best for us,” jaehyun whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ll make you happy every day until you die. anything you could ever want, i’ll make it happen, i promise.”
the way he spoke, you knew that he believed it in his very bones, and that only made it scarier. someway, somehow, jaehyun had convinced himself that you were god walking, and now you weren’t sure what lengths he wouldn’t go to for your sake. 
tenderly kissing your jaw, jaehyun continued, “i love you.”
you shook your head, knowing that it wasn’t true. “you can’t love me, jaehyun. it’s only been five days.”
jaehyun disagreed. he thought he had loved you from the second he laid eyes on you, a beautiful girl ambling along the creek line. he could smell your sweet scent on him and it made him remember catching you in his arms, pulling you close, and breathing you in for the first time. “i loved you long before i met you. you may not feel it right now, but you will soon. i’ll make sure of it.”
you exhaled a breath. there was no arguing with a mad man.
“i’ll make sure you’ll never want to live without me again,” jaehyun whispered, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “that you can’t live without me.”
all you wanted was to get away from him. you were wishing you would’ve never came here, never gave him or this godforsaken place the time of day.
jaehyun was nearing the threshold of what he could take and it was plain on his face. you weren’t fucking yourself on him with the same amount of fervor as you had in the none too distant past, but he was too close to the edge to complain, driving his hips upwards into yours.
he was no longer listening to the pleas falling from between your lips, imagining that you were begging for him never to stop, never to let go of you. because he knew that deep down, that was what you wanted. you would get over these temporary, tiny frustrations. the same way he had gotten over them over and over.
did you think it was all fun and games for him? if you knew how many times he had been crushed and disappointed, how many times he had to let of something he wanted more than anything, you would finally understand that there nobody who understood you more than jaehyun.
in a way, you were completing each other. he would give you the family you needed, and you would give him the relationship he always wanted.
“jaehyun, you have to pull out,” you said to him, remembering he had gone in without a condom. “you have to…”
“shh,” jaehyun shushed you, pressing your back to the mattress again, and seizing control.
when you tried to speak, jaehyun just clamped his hand over your mouth to keep you silent and pliant, wanting to hear none of it. “didn’t i tell you? we’re going to build a family together, right here in this house.”
there was total, chaotic horror in your eyes. you hadn’t thought he meant so soon, so quickly. you were barely an adult and still sometimes felt like a child yourself, and you tried to tell him as much, but every word bled together and died on his palm.
with a few more unrelenting smacks of his hips into yours, jaehyun leaned over and clamped his teeth into your shoulder as he came. and when he stilled, he kissed you, ignoring the taste of tears that had ran onto your lips.
“it’ll always be you and me now,” he panted, breathless. “you can’t leave me. you can’t.”
you lay there, helpless and hopeless, feeling something like bile scorching up your throat as you stared at him in disbelief.
“i’ll fuck you every day, i will,” jaehyun said with every bit of conviction. “if it means that one of those days, i put a baby in you.”
there was nothing that you could say that your face wasn’t already saying for you. never in your life had you felt more used and violated, and that said a lot. 
and jaehyun didn’t seem to be bothered. he lay down beside your shaking body, tightening his arms around you, loving the way the layers of sweat made you stick to each other, and made you a dirty promise. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you both,” he said. “i swear.”
you closed your eyes, screaming inside your head, but having none of the strength to really do it. he had stolen it from you, stolen everything from you. your body wasn’t your own anymore.
“say it,” jaehyun prompted, nibbling gently at your neck. “say you love me.”
you didn’t, and there wasn’t a single bone in your body that did, but jaehyun terrified you now. this would haunt you more than the gun pressed to your back, or the throwing your head underwater. compared to now, those things seemed mild.
so you sucked in a breath, trying to will yourself to stay still even though there was no possible way with how close he was to you, and you lied, “i love you.”
jaehyun grinned from ear to ear. “i know.”
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misotsukiiyeooo · 17 days ago
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No Kisses?
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol xF! Reader
A/N: Honestly, I just need Seuncheol...
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 4.3k
Synopsis: Seungcheol attempts to deny your kisses, but not for too long.
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You were on your period, and feeling emotional, which led to some unnecessary bickering with Seungcheol. He didn't appreciate the attitude you were giving him, and as the days passed, you brushed the entire incident aside as if it had never occurred.
Your constant mood swings during that week pushed Seungcheol to his limit, prompting him to declare a "kissing strike." You simply assumed he was being dramatic. However, now that your period has ended, you’re looking for Seungcheol to cuddle with you.
You find him sitting on the couch in the living room. Before you can step closer, he lifts a finger, stopping you in your tracks. "Don't come here, Y/n. I told you, no kisses and cuddles for a whole week!" His tone is firm, yet there’s a hint of playful frustration lurking beneath.
You take a step closer to him, testing the waters to see if he’s genuinely serious about this rule. "Oh, come on… a week is too long!" you pout at him.
Seungcheol crosses his arms tightly over his chest and turns his head away from you, still upset. "A week is not enough for the way you acted last week."
Realizing that he is indeed serious, you plop down next to him on the couch. He scoots away from you just a bit, arms still crossed. "Stop sitting next to me; I'm still upset."
"My baby, Cheollie, I'm sorry, okay?" you say, softening your tone and patiently waiting for a reaction. He tries to hide his smile after hearing his nickname.
"I get that you're sorry," he replies, still trying to maintain his serious demeanor, "but I still have to teach you a lesson."
Feeling bold, you respond, "You can’t stay mad at me for too long… you love me too much for that." You give him a playful, teasing smile, knowing deep down that he can’t resist for long.
He rolls his eyes dramatically but finally turns to look at you. "That's not the point. I'm still going to be mad at you for a week," he insists, though you can see the corners of his mouth twitching up.
You gently cup his cheeks in your hands, maintaining eye contact as you say, "I am sorry, you know." Your sincerity hangs in the air between you.
He lets out a heavy sigh, still avoiding your gaze. "I know, but I still need some time to forgive you," he admits, his tone softening just a fraction.
With a playful grin, you propose, "Fine, how about we make it a day? Not a whole week, hmm?" You keep your hands on his face. He pretends to think for a moment before sighing in defeat once more.
"A day… but only because you look so cute right now," he concedes, fighting to keep the smile off his face.
Seizing the moment, you lean in and peck his lips, completely forgetting the "rules" he just laid out. "A day it is!" you declare triumphantly.
But as soon as you back away, he sulks cutely, shaking his head. "I said no kisses for a day…"
You pause, realization dawning on you. "Oh right, oops," you reply, grinning widely.
"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Seungcheol says, arching an eyebrow at you, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Doing what?" You grin, pretending to be oblivious to your actions.
He scoffs, "Acting all cute so I won't stay mad at you…"
Your eyes widen in mock shock. "Me, acting cute?" The corners of your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. He rolls his eyes dramatically before reaching for your waist and effortlessly pulling you onto his lap. "Yes, you; and you know it," he replies.
You tease him, "I thought you said no cuddles?"
In response, Seungcheol wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck. "I changed my mind."
"That fast?" You giggle, earning a nod against your neck. His grip on you tightens. "I can't resist you when you're being cute like this," he murmurs.
You wrap your arms around his neck. "I knew you couldn't," you reply, teasing evident in your voice.
He pouts, pulling away slightly to face you. "Yeah, yeah. But next time you’re on your…" He trails off. "You know, can you try your absolute best not to start arguments with me?"
You smile at his cuteness. "Yes, of course. I’ll try my absolute best!" You echo his words with a small laugh.
"Good…" he says, and with that, he kisses your lips before leaning back in, nuzzling his face into your neck once more, enveloping you in warmth and comfort as he holds you close.
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Taglist!!
@jjunie-0 @minminghao @black-swan-blog27 @cherrylvrr @honglynights @allieyaaa @bath1lda @hanniehae-yoon
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cameronsprincess · 2 months ago
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KINKTOBER DAY FIVE: Mask Kink + DP w/ Rafe & JJ
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CW: DUBCON, threesome, ghostface!rafe, ghostface!jj, dp, unprotected piv sex, anal, praise & degrading. 18+ ONLY!
kinktober masterlist — deadly duo masterlist
𓆩♡𓆪
the sound of your heart thumping wildly in your chest was all you could hear. not even the sound of your heavy breathing could be heard over the blood rushing in your ears. you’re running through the dark woods, dodging low hanging branches and jumping over large rocks, trying to escape the two masked men chasing you.
but do you really want to escape them? this has always been a secret fantasy of yours, to be hunted, caught and taken by a man— or men— in masks. you have a feeling you know who the two men are as well, and that thought alone has your pussy throbbing more than it already was.
you rush behind a large tree, pressing your back firmly against it, trying to calm your breathing. the dark night is eerily silent, making your heart pound harder in your chest. slowly, you turn your body, pressing your chest against the thick tree and slowly peeking your head around to see if the two masked men were nearby.
no one’s there. where could they have gone? you slowly turn back around, a scream pulled from your chest when you come face to face with the two men, their ghostface masks inches from your face. how the fuck?
a gloved hand is slapped over your face, a deep, altered voice saying, “caught you.”
you begin to fight the man whose hand is tightly pressed against your face, screaming and kicking as he effortlessly whips your body around. his bicep works its way around your neck, flexing it as he continues to cover your mouth and nose with his large, gloved hand. 
the second man steps forward, running his gloved fingers down the side of your face.
“stop fightin’ it, baby girl. we’re gonna take good care of you, alright?”
rafe cameron. he didn’t alter his voice, but that doesn’t shock you. rafe is the kind of man who never hides — minus his face being hidden by the ghostface mask, but you know that’s purely because he knows you’re into it.
tears fill your eyes, and you begin kicking and screaming behind the gloved hand of the other man, trying to break yourself free from his hold.
the man holding you captive tightens his palm against your face, flexing his muscular arm and completely cutting off your air. your eyes widen, fear wracking your body as he continues to squeeze tightly, taking away your air.
“don’t kill her, maybank,” rafe says, “pick her ass up and let’s get her to the spot.”
your breathing picks up when the other man— who you now know is jj maybank— lifts your feet off the ground and tosses you over his shoulder.
you kick and scream as jj carries you through the woods, your fists pounding into his back. jj grunts, his free hand landing a harsh slap to your ass. “stop kickin’ and screamin’, princess. it’s a worthless fight.”
“fuck… you… jj.” you say through heavy breaths.
rafe and jj both chuckle, the sound making you stiffen in jj’s hold. “oh don’t worry, princess. we’re going to.” rafe says, amusement lacing his voice.
the two of them walk for about five minutes, finally reaching an old, abandoned fishing dock. they slowly make their way onto the old wooden dock, jj’s arms tightening against your thighs. you lift your head to try and take in your surroundings, but nothing but darkness greets you. a cool breeze sends a shiver down your spine, the sound of the calm water swishing about and all the nighttime creatures making noises all you hear.
jj drops you onto your back, and you instinctively back away. rafe tuts, taking a step toward you. “i wouldn’t recommend that, princess. you never know what kinda monsters lurk in these waters at night.”
you take a glance behind you, seeing nothing but the dark, deep, ocean waters. you could say fuck it, jump in and try to escape, but do you really want to? as much as you fight them, you can help but feel a tinge of excitement rush through you at the thought of what they’ll do to you.
“maybank. strip her.” rafe demands.
jj is on you before you can even think to move, his unforgiving grip on your upper arms making you cry out in pain. he yanks you to a standing position, long fingers toying with the hem of your t-shirt before he pulls it up and over your head, tossing it to the side. he slowly runs his fingers up and down your bare sides, his hands snaking around your waist and trailing down to pop the button of your light denim jeans, slowly pulling the zipper down next.
“little help, sweetheart?”
jj begins to push the rough material down your legs, and you help him out by wiggling your hips, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side once they’re completely down. you stand before the two fully clothed men, wearing nothing but a tiny lace thong— you’d opted for no bra tonight, stupid, but does it even matter? the answer is no.
you toss your hands out to your sides, “okay. you got me here, and you’ve stripped me. now what?”
rafe steps closer to you, working at the belt he wears before pulling it off and doubling it over. he snaps it once, making you flinch before he tosses it onto the old wooden dock. he works his jeans off next, leaving himself in nothing but a tight, black t-shirt, his mask and a pair of baby blue boxers. cute.
“now. we’re gonna have fun using you, princess. you down with that?”
“do i have a choice?”
rafe taps his finger against the bottom of his mask as if in thought. he straightens his head, his masked face landing on yours again as he says, “no, you don’t.”
jj’s strong arms wrap around your waist once more and you begin to kick and fight against him. his mask covered face leans in close to your ear, his voice— no longer altered — whispering, “i love the fight, sweetheart. it turns me on, keep it up.”
jj presses his front into your backside, giving you a feel of his hard cock through his boxers. when did he strip his lower half? jj’s a silent one, but rafe also had all your attention there for a minute, so anything is possible.
jj drops onto the dock with you in tow, falling into a sitting position. he tightens his hold on your waist and presses your ass harder against his cock. he groans, and the sound sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy.
“you’re gonna feel so fucking good, so tight, wet, throbbing.”
rafe steps toward the two of you, kneeling down in front of you, but his attention on jj.
“remember, maybank. you get her ass, i get her pussy, yeah?”
jj chuckles, tossing your body forward and into rafe’s strong hold. “yeah, yeah. i remember the plan. lucky for you, i prefer an ass over a pussy.”
rafe laughs at jj’s response, his fingers slowly sliding your soaked thong down your shaking legs. he keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling one glove off before moving to do the same with the other. your eyes flit down to his large, veiny hands. god, he has nice fucking hands. you can’t help the thoughts of how good his fingers would feel buried inside your cunt, shoved down your throat…
your train of thought dies and you gasp when rafe runs two fingers through your slick folds, groaning at how wet you are. “fuck, princess. you’re soaked. we knew this shit turned you on.”
you throw your head back onto his shoulder, rocking your hips back and forth as he continues to play with your pussy. a whimper escapes you when he shoves two fingers inside, scissoring them before slowly pulling them back out.
jj huffs. “alright bro, my cock is painfully hard, quit messin’ around.”
rafe just laughs at that. and you roll your eyes. these two. even in a sexual, very intimate moment— and working together you might add— they’re at each others throats.
rafe pulls his boxers down his legs before laying himself back on the dock, pulling your body flush against his in the process. he grips his hard cock in his right hand, running the tip through your folds a few times, teasing your swollen clit with the head before he slowly pushes himself inside your pussy. a loud whine escapes you as he stretches you out.
“goddamnit, she’s so wet and tight. fuck.”
once rafe is buried completely inside you, he slaps at your ass once, “stick your ass out a bit, help maybank out.”
you do as he says, arching your back a bit and giving jj a better angle of your ass. you hear him moan behind you, twisting your head to look at him. he’s stroking his cock, spitting down onto it and coating his thick length with his saliva.
“don’t worry, sweetheart. s’gonna feel amazing.”
you whimper when the head of his dick presses into your ass, a burning sensation rushing through your body. “oh fuck, jj, it’s.. s’too much.” you cry out, trying to pull away, but rafe’s hand slapping your ass stops you.
“stop fightin’ him, princess. it’ll hurt less if you just let him in.”
tears fill your eyes, and you choke out a sob as jj presses his dick farther into your ass. you’ve never been fucked in the ass before, and they didn’t even attempt to prep you, but that’s what this is, right? for their pleasure. not yours. it’ll feel good for jj no matter what.
“halfway in, sweetheart.” jj groans, slowly pulling out of your ass before pushing forward again.
rafe thrusts his hips up once, trying to help distract your mind from the burning pain you feel in your ass. he tightly grips your hip in one hand, using his free hand to play with your tits. he pinches your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it and pulling on it.
jj takes advantage of your being distracted, slowly pulling his cock from your ass completely. he spits onto his shaft again, stroking it and coating his hard dick before pressing the tip back into your ass, slamming his hips forward and burying himself inside you.
“oh shit!” you cry out, your palms laid flat against rafe’s t-shirt covered chest. you dig your nails into the cotton material, making him hiss in a breath.
“that’s it, such a good fucking whore for us.” jj coos.
tears fall freely down your face, your entire body on fire. you feel so full, you’ve never in your life experienced this feeling, but it’s strangely… not bad. rafe finally begins to move his hips, fucking himself into you from below. his large hands splay out on your lower back, pushing you forward a bit, allowing him to suck one of your nipples into his mouth.
jj places his hands on your hips, holding you in place as he begins thrusting his hips, fucking your ass at a slow and steady pace. a moan escapes you, immense pleasure rushing through your veins. holy fuck. they both feel so good inside you, filling you, stretching you, using you.
“goddamn, princess. your ass is fuckin’ squeezin’ my dick, swallowing me whole,” jj slowly pulls out to where only the tip remains inside your ass before slamming forward. you scream out in both pain and pleasure, “such a good slut, lettin’ us use her for our pleasure.”
rafe chuckles from beneath you, and your eyes find his mask covered face. fuck, the mask makes this so much more erotic. he picks up his pace, fucking himself inside you at a fast and rough pace. “gonna let us fill your ass ‘n pussy with our cum? let us fuckin’ use you ‘n have you dripping our cum for the rest of the night like the good little slut you are, right?”
unintelligible words fall from your lips, your mind foggy and body completely numb from the pleasure they were giving you. drool slips past your slightly parted lips, opening and closing them, trying and failing to give a response.
rafe’s dark laughter fills the air around you, “aww, look at that, maybank.. we got her so fuckin’ stupid off our cocks already. fuckin’ slut can’t even form a coherent sentence.”
jj lands a harsh slap to your ass cheek, his hands finding your hips and gripping them, fucking into your ass harder. your legs are shaking uncontrollably and your stomach tightens. stars explode behind your eyes and you’re so close to coming undone for them.
“f-fuuuuck… r-rafe… j-jj… ple-ase…” you manage to choke out through sobs.
“oh, what was that, baby? please? please what? use your words.” rafe says, slowing his thrusts and stilling inside you.
jj’s thrusts come to a halt as well, both men’s cocks filling your holes but not moving, not giving you the stimulation you so desperately crave. jj slaps your ass, the already raw, burning skin tingling. “he asked you a question, princess. s’not nice to ignore a question.”
“please… c-can i… can i cum?” you sob out, tears and snot running down your face as you wiggle your hips, trying to chase the friction you’re craving.
rafe breathes out a sigh, “you hear that? she wants to cum, j. should we let her?”
“dunno, rafe. i don’t think she’s earned it.”
your body stiffens, screaming for a release.
“please! please let me cum, i- i’ll do anything, please? please rafe… jj… please?”
rafe brings a hand to your tear stained face, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheek. “god you’re so fuckin’ pathetic. beggin’ us to let you cum,”
both men begin thrusting their hips again, fucking into you at slow, steady paces. your body screams for a release, but every time you’re close to tumbling over the edge, they stop, teasing you and edging you.
“tell us you’re our good little cum slut, and maybe we’ll let you cum.” rafe says lowly, his dick slowly pushing and pulling from inside you.
you try and form the words, but your brain is so weak, so foggy from being denied what it needs most, you can’t seem to get them out. jj’s hands on your hips tighten, pulling your ass roughly against his front, his cock so deep in your ass you swear you feel him in your stomach.
“go on, princess. say it. tell us you’re our good little cum slut, that you’re nothin’ more than holes for our pleasure.” jj demands, his tone harsh.
“i— fuck… ‘m y-your good li-little cum s-slut.. oh fuck.. please?”
rafe and jj both groan, the satisfaction of hearing you say the words greater than they could’ve imagined.
“s’right.. ours. ours to fuck,” thrust. “ours to use,” thrust. “ours to do whatever the fuck we want with.”
they both begin pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping skin, their groans and your loud whines fill the night sky. the band in your belly tightens just as jj’s thrusts grow sloppy. jj slams his hips into your backside one final time, his dick twitching inside you as he fills your ass with his thick, white cum.
he slowly pulls himself from your ass, and you flinch, whining at the loss of him there. rafe’s cock pounding into your aching pussy quickly makes you forget though.
“come on, baby. cum with me, cum all over my cock while i fuck my load deep into this sweet cunt.”
you cry out rafe’s name, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you come undone around him. you soak his cock, crying out his and jj’s names. rafe’s thrusts slow, his cock swelling inside you before he comes with one final thrust, his cum painting your inner walls white.
rafe pulls himself from inside you, rolling you off of his body and onto your back. he pushes himself to his feet, quickly dressing before standing beside jj. both of them slowly remove their ghostface masks, their gorgeous faces illuminated beautifully under the bright moonlight. rafe smirks down at your weak, limp body, lightly nudging jj’s shoulder.
“best halloween ever, right? and now… she’s all ours.”
𓆩♡𓆪
note: i just wanna thank everyone for taking the time and reading my kinktober fics! it was so much fun participating in this event!❤️🖤 happy halloween, MWAH😚
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lordprettyflackotara · 8 months ago
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till dawn || eyeless jack || part three
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SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. TW: LOTS OF PLOT, being chased teehee scary, unrealistic demon sex bc be so honest w yourself that’s why you’re here, breeding kink, bondage/choking kink. there will be one more part, a finale to this lil series :’) i think for my next series for the creeps im gonna go with either jeff or masky, haven’t decided yet. ANYWAYS, enjoy!!
the finale to till dawn is here
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to burst through your rib cage.
The sound of crunching leafs echoed behind you, one set of footsteps in particular on your heels. Eerie laughter filled your ears as you threw one foot in front of the other, desperate to get away.
You had decided to follow Jack once he left your house. It wasn’t a logical thing to do, knowing that from what Jack talked about other beings like him existed. You knew Jack was a one of one and so were the others he told you stories about. He promised to introduce you to them someday, but not today.
Curiosity got a hold of your better judgment, causing you to slowly trail behind him. Curiosity was about to kill the cat. You could feel your lungs burning, a whooshing sound flying past your ear. You gasped as a rusty axe had been thrown into the tree beside your head. It had nearly nipped you, your ear millimeters from the blade.
What you didn’t realize, was that the moment you walked into these predators territory, you’d become the prey.
Jack knew you had followed him. He was fine with you doing so. Up until now, he had assumed the Supernatural borders prevented any human from entering. As an animalistic growl escaped his throat, weaving through the trees, he realized he had never been more wrong.
Toby was close behind you, Jack could hear his mouth twitching with pride as he got closer to you. Your presence had alerted every creep within a five mile radius, none of them aware of who you were. It was Jacks job to stop them from getting to you, ignoring the loud drum of your heartbeat. Thankfully Jack was the fastest, his killing style driven by animalistic primal hunger. He was gaining distance on Toby, reaching one hand out and grabbing him by his hair.
You forced yourself to not look back, to not question the sudden silence of your purser. Typically you thought of yourself to be a decent runner, now realizing track in high school could’ve never prepared you for a situation like this. Once all you heard was silence, you allowed yourself to slow down. Panting, you leaned against the sharp forest bark of one of the trees. Everything around you looked the exact same, like a never ending loop.
It was official. You were lost.
The sound of rushing water intrigued you, your eyes darting in each direction to find the source. Despite the eerie feeling of being alone in such a dark forest, you felt like multiple sets of eyes were watching you. Stalking you. Hunting you. The moonlight dimly lit the forest floor, your feet carrying you in what you believed to be the direction of the river. You had been camping before, the sounds of bugs or owls having previously been a comfort.
But here, in this forest, there were neither of those things. You trudged towards the river, a large river bank coming into view. The water was harsh as it crashed against the rocks below it. Murkiness and darkness prevented you from seeing the bottom of the river, unaware of how deep it was. Or from seeing what creatures lurked below.
Jack was close to catching up with you, his focus on Jeff and Jane as they slowly closed in on you. Jane was nimble, using her small frame and agility to swing through the trees. As Jack watched them both close in on you, it occurred to him neither of them realized the other was present. If the situation wasn’t so dire of your safety he’d watch in amusement just to see what happened next. Jeff went for the kill first, Jacks body flying forward to stop him. But Jane had beat him to it.
The loud crashing sound behind you caused you to jump, instantly turning around. A man and woman, whom you could almost think to be siblings, were visibly fighting in front of you. “What the fuck Jane? Can you not see i’m doing something here?” The man growled. Unsettling crimson blood dripped down the carvings on the side of his face. His cheeks were mutilated beyond belief, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.
Fight or flight was not crossing your mind, your body frozen in fear. “I found her long before you did dipshit,” Jane snarled. Knives occupied both of their hands, her unsettling, soulless black abyss for eyes glancing at you. “She’s a cute one, I can see why you wanted the kill. Sadly she’s mine Jeffrey, all mine,” She smirked. Jack went to intervene, the overwhelming sound of two more heartbeats stopping him. Shit, Masky and Hoody. Surely Slender had sent the proxies to check on the situation, Toby beating them due to his speed.
Jack felt conflicted, trying to rationalize what to do. If he intervened Jeff and Jane now, he would have to take both of them on as well as the proxies. His gaze landed on the two pale killers, both of them still bickering. But, if he managed to stop the proxies fast enough, he could come back and retrieve you. The proxies wouldn’t be hard to find, their heartbeats and smell practically giving Jack a map. He felt awful leaving you, the petrified look of horror written across your face as you watched the fight in front of you.
As the sound of the proxies grew closer, Jack turned around, chasing after the sound of pounding hearts.
“You always do this! I find a good kill and here comes Jane!” Jeff argued. Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault we have the same type,” She debated. Slowly you tried to back away, hoping they’d be so involved in their debate they’d forget about your presence. “You’re such a bitch, always copying me and my shit, find another hobby will ya?”Jeff spat harshly.You swallowed as you kept your eyes on them, trying to figure out if you could out run them.
Snap.
Both sets of eyes landed on you, your blood running cold. You could feel the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, everything in you screaming to run. Their eyes contained a certain unnatural hunger, the kind that would only be satisfied by watching you bleed. “You know, the more I think about it, maybe we can call it even just this once, since it’s a special occasion,” Jeff said softly, glancing at Jane. As his eyes moved you noticed that he didn’t blink, his never ending gaze shifting back and forth. His eye sockets were hollow, your mind struggling to make sense of his rancid appearance. He had no eyelids?
“Maybe we should, how often do humans stumble through our forest like this?” Jane replied, chuckling. The two had seemed to come to a decision, moving in unison. They seemed to be patiently waiting for a chase, waiting for you to run. As you turned your back you heard an animalistic growl, one that you could only assume came from one of the pale killers.
What you didn’t realize, was that Jack was ready to rip Jeff apart limb by limb. The two pale killers were blindsided, Jane gasping as she fell to the ground. The demon had Jeff pinned to the ground, snarling above him. It was forbidden to kill another creep, especially on Slender’s grounds. “EJ what-” Jeff began babbling, the animalistic snarl from Jacks throat silencing him. Jane scoffed as she stood up, brushing off her dress.
“If you wanted the kill yourself there’s no sense in being so dramatic, just say so,” She quipped. Jacks gaze stranded from Jeff, settling on Jane as she fully regained her confidence. Jack was never one to hurt a lady, so instead he came up with a different solution. Standing up fully he picked her up, harshly gripping her arms as he tossed her into the nearby river.
You could hear her screams of despair as you continued running into the forest. Whipping your head around to look behind you, for the first time since you had entered the land of terror no one was following you. Your legs burned, your mind spinning. You felt dizzy, your vision beginning to be clouded with stars. The only thing you had on you was your phone. Shakily you took it out of your pocket, thumbing in the password.
Who would you even call? Jack didn’t have a phone, you had no service. You sighed, blankly scrolling between the apps you couldn’t use. Your eyes widened as your screen went black. Did it die? On seventy nine percent? You tilted your head to the side as a camera came into focus, a young blonde man with black and red eyes staring back at you. “Oh wow, hello there gorgeous! EJ sure does know how to pick em huh?” He asked. His pointy ears twitched. That was the final straw. You tossed your phone onto the ground, stomping on it with your boot. The glass shattered, your once prized possession now garbage.
Tilting your head back you let out a pained sigh. How long was it before these maniacs caught up with you? Looking around you found a decent stick. In comparison to the knives and axes the others were equipped with it would be nothing, but you’d go down fighting.
Snap.
You quickly turned around, gripping your stick tightly. Wincing as the wood cut the palm of your hand, you braced yourself. Swallowing, you tried to find the noises creator. A gush of wind breezed past you from a different direction, your eyes darting to your left. What if they were all circling you? Like a pack of wolves? What if this was in the end?
In the dull moonlight you were able to make out a tall figure, your fight or flight kicking in. Hastily you rose your stick, slamming it down on the shadow in front of you. A large hand grabbed your stick, snapping it half, before sending you on the ground. Your collision with the ground knocked the air out of your lungs, your back hitting the dirt below. Instinctively you began thrashing, a strong set of hands pinning you down.
“Hey, hey, HEY, calm down! Look at me!” Jacks voice was firm, filled with worry. Were you going insane? Seeing Jeff was definitely enough to make someone do so. He didn’t want you to end up like Nina. You blinked a few times, Jacks mask long discarded. Blood dripped down his nose, staining his upper lip. A gash sliced across his cheek, the same crimson paint dripping down his gray skin. “Jack?” You panted.
Your heart was beating a mile a minute, Jacks attention temporarily preoccupied as you attempted to catch your breath. His mind returned to normal the moment you began rambling.
“Holy shit there was a guy with an axe who sounded literally like a ticking time bomb and then this like mutilated albino couple wanted to kill me as well and then this dwarf-”
Jack gripped your shoulders, shaking you.
“Why would you come here? Do you understand how difficult it is for me to protect you here?” He panted. His body was becoming tired. Sprinting across Slender forest and fighting off all of his friends was exhausting, even for him. Your eyes were widened as his hands gripped you harder unintentionally. “You single handedly alerted every monster in the goddamn area that there was fresh meat on the market,” Jack continued. You winced in pain as his grip tightened.
“Jack, you’re hurting me.”
His eye sockets widened, the demon releasing you. He stayed on top of you, the two of you blankly staring at one another. “You’re bleeding,” Jack commented. The deeper he inhaled the stronger the scent became, electric cravings crawling across his skin. You didn’t have a chance to tell him where it was coming from, the demon grabbing your wrist to examine your palm.
The blood wasn’t bad, a small stream dripping down the precious little lines of your palm. To think that when he wanted to, he could hunt down whoever he wanted. That truly, you belonged to him. No matter the danger that he created or that others around you did, he was able to restrain himself. To protect you. The scent of your blood made his stomach flip, his body flooding with desire. Your legs shifted under him, your body becoming warmer as he touched you.
Your voice was low, a desperate whisper, “Jack…”
The worry that clouded Jacks mind was washed away by the sound of your soft voice. The only sound that could calm him down and make him feel at ease,was the enchanting sound of you saying his name. You yanked his hoodie, desperately bringing his lips to yours. Your blood soaked into the clothing, a groan escaping Jacks throat.
The delicious sound of your heart beginning to race flooded his ears, his hips slowly grinding on yours. You whimpered, pawing at his hoodie to bring him impossibly closer. Your lips melted against his, submitting to his rougher desperate kisses. His large hands slithered up your shirt, squeezing and kneading at your breast. You groaned into his mouth, the demon trying to be careful as to not nip you with his teeth.
“Here?” You panted, whimpering as he pushed up your bra. Jack kissed down the side of your neck gently, the throbbing pulse of your throat almost too much for him to handle. “I’ll make it quick love, I just need to let everyone in a five mile radius know who you belong to,” Jack huffed, bringing your right nipple into his mouth. You felt his multiple tongues attack the bud, his name spilling from your lips. With a pop he released your nipple, kissing down your stomach.
“How long until they come looking for us again?” You asked nervously, Jacks nimble fingers quickly unbuttoning and sliding down your jeans. He looked up at the sky. “I’d say till dawn,” He guessed. You giggled as he repositioned himself between your legs, your jeans shoved down to your ankles. “Guess you better hurry up then,” You say. His slender fingers began teasingly rubbing your slick through your panties, the thin cloth drenched.
“Let’s make sure you can take me first you troublemaker,” Jack teased, grinning at the sound of you moaning for him. He slid two of his slender fingers in front of you, your walls squeezing him as he curled them inside of you. Desperately you bucked your hips upwards, throwing your head back as he hit your g spot. “All that running made you awfully sensitive, huh?” Jack joked, relishing in the sight of you grabbing at his wrist, the one that was connected to the hand inside of you.
“Jack, fuck, please,” You whined. Jacks eye sockets widened.
He hesitated, “Please what?”
Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, the humiliation of him making you say what you needed settling in. “Please fuck me,” You pleaded, your voice cracking. Jacks hands were quick to work on his belt, the sound of the metal clinking sending a chill down your spine. You bit your lip as you eyed the leather, Jack noticing. A devilish sadistic thought entered his mind, his lips curling upwards.
“You want to try something new?” Jack asked, slightly guessing. You nodded, meeting his gaze. You vocalized a plea, Jack quick to flip you over. Your bare knees hit the dirt of the forest, the smell of the earth flooding your nostrils. Instinctively you went to arch your back, Jack stopping you by yanking you back by your shirt. “You might want to stay on all fours,” He purred in your ear, kissing your earlobe. He wrapped his belt around your neck, holding the metal buckle in his hand.
It cut off a decent portion of your airway, a groan escaping your lips at the sensation of being choked. “You’re into bondage now? Such a whore for me,” Jack chuckled darkly, stroking his cock. He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, trying to lubricate his cock as best as possible. Despite how drenched you got every time he was around, you always struggled to accommodate his size. And every single time it sent Jack into a frenzy, determination to make it fit ensuing.
He glanced up at the sky, the sun rising very faintly in the distance. “We don’t have very long, be a good girl and take it,” Jack snarled, shoving himself inside of you. You felt your body being split in two, his spare hand snaking down to your clit. He rubbed circles around the sensitive bud, trying to relax your body as much as possible. “You wanna be good for me don’t you slut? Relax for me,” He huffed, bottoming out inside of you. You were tense, grabbing handfuls of leafs and dirt.
He could feel you spasm around him as you struggled to accommodate to his size, whimpering as your vision became hazy. After what felt like forever to Jack, he could feel your body relax. “There we go, such a good girl for me aren’t you?” Jack purred in satisfaction. He pulled back his hips, taking himself out of you. He then brought himself back inside, pleased to hear the sound of you letting out a choked out moan. He continued to swirl around your clit, his thrust becoming faster.
You felt light headed as the leather pressed against your throat, choking on the sinful noises that echoed through out the forest. “Fuck, if I had known letting you into Slender’s forest would’ve gotten you so hot and bothered, I would’ve done it a long time ago,” Jack panted, his cock abusing your g spot. You were seeing stars, each thrust sending you into orbit. “Taking me so well, just like a good mate should,” He growled. His grip on the belt tightened, your airway temporarily cut off.
His thrust became more animalistic, the gears in his head turning. The savage and primal instinct washed over him, his coherent thoughts now vanished. Instead they were replaced with one thought and one thought only:
Breed breed breed.
“Fuck, you’re going to look so pretty with my cum leaking from that pretty cunt of yours,” Jack snarled. He released the belt, the leather flying forward and onto the ground. His large hands instead grabbed your waist, squeezing the flesh so harshly you swore you’d have bruise in the shape of his fingers. “Jack, fucking shit,” You moaned, his thrust merciless and brutal. He showed no sign of stopping, no sign of slowing. You could feel a familiar knot form in your stomach, one that Jack had made more times than you could count.
“I can feel you getting close for me. Need you to cum for me, need to fill you,” Jack huffed, holding back his own orgasm. Your back arched as you fell further forward, the side of your face pressed against the dirt. The sun was beginning to rise, your thighs trembling. “Jack I-,” You mewled, your orgasm washing over you like a ton of bricks. Jack couldn’t resist himself, fucking you through your orgasm. His hips began to stutter, the demon screwing his eyes shut as he came deep inside of you.
Dazed, you continued to hold your ass up in the air as Jack pulled out of you. The sight of his cum seeping out of your cunt was divine. With two fingers he scooped up the dripping cum, pushing it back inside of you, ignoring your whimpers. Gently he guided you onto his lap, wiping the dirt off of your face with his thumb. The sun began rising, the beams of sunlight dancing in between the trees as they hit the forest floor.
Jack could hear your heart rate begin to turn to normal as you inhaled deeper breaths. “Cmon, gotta get you dressed before the others get back from their hunt,” Jack murmured encouraging, readjusting your bra to fit you correctly. Still in a daze, you leaned your head against Jacks shoulder, allowing him to redress you. A small breeze blew past the two of you, the faint smell of blood hitting Jacks nose. He was sure the other creeps would be back any moment now, their kills fresh blood still staining their skin and clothes.
Quickly he dressed himself, scooping you into his arms. You had never been picked up bridal style before, instinctively you nuzzled your head against Jacks chest. Making sure you both had everything, Jack quickly looked around, noticing your shattered phone. He began walking towards the mansion, taking note you were beginning to drift off.
“Yeah, I think it’s time you met Ben. He owes you a new phone anyways.”
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regal-bones · 3 months ago
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SWORDTEMBER DAY 25: KRAKEN
The Deepmother, of lurking abyss and watching eyes 🐙🪸 I see you from all the way down here. Your dark silhouette against the bright sky, the waves rippling across the surface of the water like a great ceiling of shifting glass. You tread the water in fast, floundering movements, so uncertain of what lurks beneath watching with a keen and curious eye. It’s so clear to us that you don’t belong here, your motion is so alien in this smooth, liquid world. Your limbs are so rigid, skin so soft, eyes so small and scared. Take a deep breath, and pray that it isn’t your last.
Queen of the reef, and all that swims below the surface 🐟🐠🐡
Yesterday’s sword!
You can support me on Patreon for £1 and help me make stuff like this!
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pucksandpower · 11 months ago
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Pretty Woman Moment
Max Verstappen x wife!Reader
Summary: you have your very own Pretty Woman moment in the glittering shops of Monaco
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You take a deep breath of the fresh Monaco air as you walk hand-in-hand with Max down the cobbled streets. He gives your hand a little squeeze and smiles at you. Even after all this time, his smile still makes your heart skip a beat.
You’re both dressed casually — just simple jeans and t-shirts, with caps pulled low over your faces. It’s one of the things you love most about your life here. The two of you can blend in and just be yourselves, without the glare of fame and fortune.
As you pass a small cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out. Your mouth waters.
“I’m dying for an iced coffee,” you say longingly. “Do you mind if we stop for a quick drink?”
Max chuckles. “Of course, schatje. You stay here and keep browsing. I’ll go grab us something.”
He gives you a peck on the cheek before heading into the cafe. You watch him go, your eyes drifting down to admire his cute butt in those jeans. Yup, you’ve definitely still got it bad for him.
Humming to yourself, you continue down the street, peering in shop windows at the latest fashions.
Up ahead you spot the iconic red awnings of Cartier. On a whim, you decide to browse the opulent jewelry shop.
As soon as you enter the store, you can feel the receptionist’s eyes sweep over you, no doubt taking in your casual outfit. Her gaze lingers on your much-loved sneakers. You pretend not to notice as you begin looking at a display of gem-encrusted watches.
Moments later, a saleswoman approaches you. “May I help you find something?” The saleswoman asks in a frosty tone.
You give her a polite smile. “Just looking, thanks.”
The woman’s eyes flick to your sneakers again, and her lips press together in disapproval. Still, she gives a curt nod and stands stiffly nearby like she is waiting for you to leave.
You feel a flare of annoyance at her judgmental attitude, but brush it off. You don’t have anything to prove to her. You know who you are, sneakers and all.
As you admire a display of delicate tennis bracelets, you feel the saleswoman’s eyes on you. She hovers over your shoulder, as if worried you might steal something. You bite back an amused laugh. If only she knew the size of your jewelry collection back home. Max loves spoiling you with extravagant gifts just because.
You wander towards the case of Panthère de Cartier rings, their tiny emerald eyes glinting up at you. As you lean down to admire them, the saleswoman swoops in.
“I’m afraid those particular pieces are off limits to handle without intent to purchase,” she says crisply.
You straighten up slowly. “Of course. My apologies.”
You turn away, irritation prickling. The other salespeople eye you suspiciously too now. Pretentious snobs, you think.
Just then, the glint of your own diamond tennis bracelet catches your eye — the one Max gave you for your anniversary last year. It’s slipped partially down your wrist unnoticed. You nudge it back into place just as the first saleswoman appears at your elbow.
“Excuse me, but I believe you’re attempting to steal that bracelet,” she hisses.
You gape at her. “What? This is mine, I’ve been wearing it since I came in.”
“Likely story,” she snaps. “Jacques, could you please call security?”
A bulky guard steps forward, eyeing you distrustfully. “Let’s just take a look at that bracelet, miss.”
Mortified anger rises in you. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say heatedly.
The saleswoman’s expression hardens. “If you make a scene, we’ll be forced to restrain you until the police get here.”
Just then, the door opens and Max strides in, caramel-drizzled iced coffee in hand. His eyes instantly take in the situation. He steps forward, eyes blazing.
“What the hell is going on here?” He demands, voice dangerous. You’ve never seen his racing temper directed at you, though you know it lurks beneath his calm demeanor.
“It’s fine, Max, just a misunderstanding-” you start gently.
He silences you with a look, then turns his glare on the cringing salespeople. When he speaks again, his voice is lethally quiet.
“This is my wife, Y/N, and I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect. She is the most important person in my world.” Though his words are soft, they crack sharply like a whip. “Now apologize. Immediately.”
The saleswoman who accused you blanches paper-white. “M-Mr. Verstappen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”
Max holds up a hand, cutting off her stammering. His sharp features are carved from stone. “Save it. Your behavior was unacceptable. We’ll be taking our business elsewhere and you can be assured that I will be speaking to corporate.”
But the security guard blocks your path. “Just a moment. I still need to verify this bracelet did not come from our store.” He reaches out towards your wrist.
Quick as a flash, Max grabs the man’s arm, halting him. “Don’t touch her,” Max says in a low, dangerous voice. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the ice in his tone.
The security guard tries to yank his arm away, but Max holds firm. “I suggest you let us leave right now, before I call my lawyer.”
He drops the offending arm as the security guard takes several steps back, then takes your hand gently. “Come, schatje. Let’s get you home.”
Once outside, Max halts and turns you gently to face him. His handsome face is creased with concern.
“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from your face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
You lean into his touch, letting it soothe away the sting. “I’m okay now that you’re here. But Max … the way she looked at me, treated me like I was garbage just because of what I was wearing …” You trail off, throat tightening.
Max’s jaw tightens, a storm brewing in his beautiful eyes again. “She had no right to talk down to you that way. No one has the right to make assumptions and treat you like anything less than the amazing woman I know you are.”
Despite everything, you feel yourself smile slightly. No one can make you feel better like Max can but furious tremors in his fingers tell you his wrath still simmers below the surface. You squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, really. Don’t let them ruin our day.”
His expression softens as he looks down at you. “Of course. I just can’t stand to see anyone disrespecting you.” He smiles ruefully. “I may have overreacted.”
You laugh. “Just a bit. But it was gallant of you to come to my defense.” You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly.
Max wraps you in his arms. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. I love you.”
“And I love you.” You take his hand again. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I saw the most adorable baby swans in the harbor earlier.”
The tension eases from Max’s shoulders as you stroll together along the glittering marina. You chat and laugh, the unpleasant scene at the jewelry store already forgotten. Because nothing can touch the happiness you’ve found here, in the sun-drenched streets of Monaco, hand-in-hand with the love of your life.
***
The next evening, you and Max stride arm in arm into Cartier, looking every inch the glamorous millionaire couple that you are. You’re dressed in a slinky black gown with diamond earrings while Max cuts a sharp figure in an Armani tuxedo. The salespeople gape as you saunter in, not recognizing you as the girl from yesterday.
You head straight for the saleswoman who accused you of stealing. “Remember me?” You ask breezily.
She flushes, stammering apologies. You silence her with one manicured finger.
“Let’s start fresh, shall we?” You extend a hand. “I’m Y/N.”
“S-Suzanne,” she manages.
“Suzanne, my husband Max and I are looking to make a significant purchase tonight.” You gesture around the lavish store. “You have some beautiful pieces. Why don’t you show us some options?”
“Of course, right this way.” Suzanne leads you to a private viewing room. Hands shaking, she brings out diamond necklaces, tennis bracelets, rings — tens of millions of dollars in jewels laid across velvet.
You and Max pretend to consider each item seriously, before waving it away. “Oh no, that won’t do … this one’s not quite right either …” With each rejection, Suzanne’s smile grows tighter.
Finally you turn to her, feigning disappointment. “Well Suzanne, I’m afraid nothing here has caught my eye. It all seems a bit … subpar.”
She gapes. “S-subpar?”
“Mmhm. I think we’ll try Bulgari next. Their quality is much more superior.” You pause, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully.
“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I realize this just isn’t going to work out between us.” You gesture around the store. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure this is a fine jewelry store for some people with lower standards, but for me ...” You trail off, shaking your head sadly.
Suzanne is white-faced, swallowing hard. “Please, give us another chance. I’m certain we can find something to your satisfaction.”
You pretend to consider it. “Well … I suppose we could take another look.”
For the next hour, Suzanne desperately shows you their most elite pieces, diamond necklaces worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You and Max have a gleeful time trying them on, admiring yourselves, but ultimately waving each one away.
Finally, after rejecting a spectacular €500,000 art deco diamond choker, you say airily, “You know what, Suzanne? I just don’t think Cartier is right for me. It’s been … educational, but I believe Max and I will be going now.”
As you saunter out, Suzanne calls desperately, “Please come again soon!”
You pause, looking back with a dazzling smile. “I would … but you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.”
And linking your arm through Max’s, you sashay into the balmy Monaco night, leaving the frantic saleswoman behind.
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fayes-fics · 4 months ago
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NSFW Alphabet for Benedict Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: The A-Z of sexual experiences with Benedict Bridgerton.
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, vaginal sex, sex acts, kink. Mentions of: oral sex (m to f, f to m), cum play, poly/bisexual experiences, sexual fantasies, voyeurism, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, public sex acts, vaginal fingering, breeding kink, dirty talk, masturbation, bondage, breath play, suspension/rope play, object insertion, sex toys, pegging, cock rings, sensory deprivation, blindfolds, sensory play, temperature play, period sex, pregnancy kink.
Authors Note: This is a version of the classic nsfw alphabet challenge. Template available here. I found this lurking in my Google Docs recently. I wrote it two years ago, but I still agree with it all. Enjoy! 🫶
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Benedict is the king of aftercare. As much as this artistic boy loves a bit of kinky play, what he loves even more is cherishing you after a vigorous session. He will cleanse your body, apply balm to any areas that need salving and wrap you in a loving embrace as you float down from your high. He loves to take soothing baths together and unwind with sensual touches and gentle kisses before climbing into bed, your bodies still damp, smelling like soap and radiating warmth from the hot water.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favourite body parts of his own are his talented, artistic hands. Not only does he create beautiful art with them - including a private collection of nudes of you - but he knows exactly how to use his hands to please you. To not only soothe you through gentle touches or massage but also to get you off with his fingers buried deep inside you. 
His favourite body part of yours is your lips. He loves to watch your mouth move as you talk, the little smirks when you are amused, the way you bite your bottom lip when aroused. The way they taste and feel against his lips, and the way they look wrapped around his cock when you are taking him down as far as you can.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
His favourite place for his cum to be is deep inside you. He doesn't have a particular fetish for seeing it on your body, despite being an artist. He would prefer to paint your skin with actual paint. The only exception was when you licked the cum off his fingers after you found him masturbating, and he couldn't stop thinking about it for days. To this day, when he masturbates, he still thinks about it.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Benedict is full of surprises. One dirty secret he hasn’t told you yet is that he fantasises about you getting fucked by another man while he watches. There’s only one person he would trust to be intimate with his partner: his older brother, Anthony. One day, he might pluck up the courage to ask if you’re amenable to it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Before meeting you, he had many years of varying levels of sowing his wild oats. His hedonistic nature has drawn him into bohemian crowds, so he has experiences of threesomes and plenty of flings with all genders. He knows what he is doing with the female and male body but is never boastful about it, more enthusiastic about applying the knowledge he has gained and adapting it to your wants and desires.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Anything where he can watch your face, he loves to see all the little expressions you pull in the throes of ecstasy. So, face-to-face works best. But it doesn't necessarily have to be in a bed. In fact, he quite enjoys it anywhere and has the stamina to hold you up against a wall if you want it. He also loves taking you from behind in front of a mirror so he can see your face, and you can watch yourself being fucked by him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
Benedict is a natural comedian and the king of the reactionary goofy face. So yes, humour during intimacy is a natural extension of his fun-loving personality. He loves to make you giggle in bed; after all, naked bodies and the noises they make can be funny, especially during sex. He loves to laugh with you, his nose buried into your neck as his rich laugh vibrates his chest against yours as you share an amusing moment. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This boy has a beautiful head of chestnut hair but has surprisingly little body hair. You have to really search for the four tiny chest hairs he has. So he doesn't have a lot of hair down there (yes, it matches, with a slight gingery hue). Both modern AU and Regency trim a little to keep it neat—he appreciates the beauty of a well-maintained body.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)
This man is an artistic soul and a true romantic to his core. Romance and intimacy are his sweet spots, and he is effortless in both. Depending on his mood, he can be filthy, romantic, funny or sometimes all three at once in the moment. He is always hyper-aware of your needs, intuiting them often before you know yourself. And he is a giver by nature, ensuring your satisfaction as well as his own. He is very loving and caring; he enjoys kissing a lot during sex.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He has a private stash of sketch (and, if modern, artsy photo) nudes of you and will use them to fuel his fantasies if you are apart. But when it comes close to the moment of coming, his eyes are screwed shut as he pictures you panting his name, knees splayed apart, his cock leaking down his own fist. The quintessential masturbating Benedict to me can be found in my fic Temptation, to be honest. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He enjoys powerplay and is a switch to his very core - he can take charge, but he enjoys submitting to you, too. He loves bondage but just light. He loves to tie you up in beautiful silks or his cravats. Either tying your hands together or sometimes to an object like a bedpost. He enjoys it when you tie him up, too, especially if it's with your stockings taken off your warm body, his eyes dilated, and his lips quivering as you tease him and then ride him.
He has a strong exhibitionist streak, and with your permission, he loves to finger you in public, especially during a theatrical or music recital. He loves to watch you try to conceal your reactions from those around you, watching you struggle to come quietly and then discreetly licking his fingers clean afterwards, just to tease you further.
Lastly, he never knew he had a breeding kink until he met you. But now… he wants nothing more than to come deep inside you, hold you down and tell you to take every last drop of his seed. 
L = Location (favourite places to ‘do the do’)
If he's honest, his favourite location is the plush daybed/chaise in the greenhouse he has repurposed as an art studio attached to the side of your home. Sometimes you will be modelling for him, and the urge overtakes him, and you will fuck right then. He loves to take you bent over the arm of the chaise or have you ride him, holding on to the arm of the chaise as he sucks your nipples. If he is working into the night as his muse strikes, he appreciates it when you come to visit him to take him to bed, but you usually end up right on that chaise, Falling asleep looking through the glass roof to the stars. He keeps pillows and blankets stored in a nearby ottoman for just such occasions.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You, really. Especially if you are being playful or just paying him loving attention. He loves good banter sometimes, but mostly, it's the sight of your smiling face and the way your pupils dilate when you look at him that really has him aroused. Especally when you voice your desires–just walk up to him and say you want to fuck and he is instantly putty in your hands and raring to go. The more details you whisper, the more turned-on he gets; he loves when you talk dirty.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
This man is a try-anything-once type of person who isn't quick to judge anything that may occur between consenting adults. He is, however, not into anything that involves inflicting lasting pain (beyond the sting of a good spanking) or drawing blood.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He LOVES oral, both giving and receiving. He will give and not expect reciprocation, but nothing makes him weaker than someone just dropping to their knees before him and taking him in their mouth. He is VERY skilled at oral too. Whoever gets to sit on that pretty face is one lucky person. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
His usual pace tends towards slow and sensual, but sometimes when the need is great in both of you, there is nothing quite like a fast and rough fuck. Just breaking out into an alleyway behind a restaurant, pushing aside underwear and fucking so hard you both carry fingermarks and light abrasions from the wall.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
It's not his preference; he would prefer to indulge time in lovemaking, but he is always amendable, especially if you demand it, like sneaking away during an event. Modern Ben isn’t against climbing into the backseat of the car together and having a round if you just can't wait until you get home. That usually happens when he picks you up tipsy from a girls' night out, and you just can't resist hopping on board.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
He is very open and willing to experiment. He will take some risks, yes, but only calculated ones that are consensual with his partner. He is always responsible if he is in a dominant role, if, say, undertaking breathplay or suspension during rope play. He willingly submits, too, loving being a switch. Semi-public sex with the risk you could get caught makes him so desperately horny; he will quietly beg in your ear to take you outside and fuck you against the garden wall mid-party. And you will let him, liking nothing more than his hot breath panting into your ear, your dress rucked up around your hips, as he makes your toes curl with breath-stealing thrusts.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
Surprisingly good stamina; he can undoubtedly last as long as you need to be satisfied—every single time. He will need some refractory time between rounds, of course, but you have the ability to arouse him more than anyone else. One memorable night, he kept you up until dawn, eating you out while he recovered from each fucking session, ready to go again as soon as you come screaming on his tongue, ploughing his cock into you while you are still fluttering from your orgasm. You lost your voice that night from all the screaming.  
T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
The Regency period was somewhat lacking in sex toys, but he is an inventive boy. He can find a use for many everyday objects in the pursuit of pleasure, including paintbrushes, mahl sticks, and even hairpins. Modern Ben has a few toys but considers them your joint toys as a couple. He will mostly use them on you, but once in a while, he will let you use a vibrating cock ring on him, and occasionally, yes, he will allow himself to be pegged by you with a special dildo just for him. Those days are very special for you, him giving you all his trust and body.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
This man was born to tease. Be it with filthy words, dirty promises or with his hands and tongue, he loves to drive you insane. One of his favourites is to blindfold you and engage in sensory play, running items like feathers or ice over your skin, teasing your senses until you are writhing and quivering. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He is not theatrical, but he does make the most delicious low noises, and he moans so beautifully when you are riding him, his hands clamped around your hips. And, of course, there is LOTS of dirty talk. The man is a poet; he can and will spout knee-trembling filth as easy as breathing. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He loves to wait until you are so turned on that you are almost shaking before he will enter you. Body quivering, pussy leaking profusely, clinging to him and begging him in a raspy voice. He loves to arouse you to the point of mindlessness, babbling for him, for his cock… then he will grab your hips and thrust into you so deep and hard you cry out, scraping your nails down his back. 
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
The statue of David made flesh—broad shoulders and a trim waist, strong but lean. He is more lithe and less hirsute than Anthony or Colin. His skin is soft, pale and smattered with some freckles with downy hair on his surprisingly muscular thighs. Even in Regency, he keeps his pubic hair trimmed a touch, just neatly, not excessively. His cock, even unaroused, is appealing to look at. Although you mostly see it raring to go, red at the tip, leaking just a little for you. Not so enormous as to be intimidating but substantial enough in length and girth to make your eyes roll with pleasure when he pushes into you and feel so full when he’s buried in you, never failing to bring you off. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
When you first get together it is intense, barely leaving the bed except to eat and cleanse. But as your relationship evolves, so does the sex. He will have sex every day if you want, but he can go a few days without before he may get a little too horny. He has no fear of sex when you are on your period, so if you are up for it, so is he. If you are apart for a few days, he will masturbate to the private collection of art he has drawn of you. Modern Ben will Facetime you for remote sexy times. When you are pregnant with all of his babies, he is VERY horny for your pregnant body and will have sex all the time, right up until you give birth. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He is out like a light. It’s actually quite endearing. He will get all like a sleepy cat after sex. He will curl into and around you and make little contented noises, then within seconds of kissing and bidding you goodnight, his breathing is deep and even. Luckily he doesn’t snore much at all. You bring him such peace and solace—he just wants you close, in his arms, and he is instantly asleep. 
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Benedict Taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies
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sturnioz · 4 months ago
Note
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE A PART 2 OF THE FRATBOY CHRIS X SHY READER ANGST PRETTY PLEASERE (ily btw)
──── ⭑ ( part 0.1 | part 1 ) .ᐟ
after going home that night, you were almost positive that you were never going to see chris again.
you took every precaution possible to avoid him ─ parking your car far from campus, you deliberately chose the longest routes to your classes, and in the hallways you kept your head down, pretending to be focussed on your phone while your heart raced at the thought of crossing paths.
you deleted pictures on your phone, even blocked his number and his socials, determined to erase him from your life. the idea of him posting pictures with another girl twisted your stomach in uncomfortable knots, leaving you feeling utterly miserable.
during your time alone, you began to realise just how dull your life actually was without chris. sure, frat parties had never been your scene, but you used to enjoy being tucked against his side, watching him in his element ─ dealing, taking drugs, and drinking with his frat brothers before he took you into his bedroom where you spent the night.
and then there were the midnight food runs when the munchies hit, him bringing you along to the nearest 24-hour store and buying all your favourite treats and snacks which you shared.
but that was gone now, you were sure of it. you were never going to experience those moments with him again.
until he opened your bedroom door one night while your were episodes deep into one of your favourite rewatchable series. your heart raced and your eyes widened in disbelief, nearly dropping your cup of water that you've been sipping. you hastily place it on the bedside table, pausing your show mid-scene.
you stammer, confusion flooding your voice. "what.. what are you─"
"your uh, your mom let me in," chris cuts you off with a reply, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the stillness.
you weren't a bad daughter, but you couldn't help but curse your mother out in your head for allowing chris inside the house. she's always had a soft spot for him, drawn to his charm and charisma, even if she didn't know him like you did.
"jus' wanna talk to you, alright? 'cos you leavin' like you did... yeah, it doesn't sit well with me ─ got this..." chris pauses as he prods his chest with his two fingers, his expression a mix of frustration and slight vulnerability. "here. got me feelin' this weird shit and ─ and i can't take it, alright? so jus'... jus' talk to me. use that fuckin' mouth of yours and talk. 'cos i must've done somethin' right?"
you sit in silence, your heart racing as you stare at him from your position on the bed, lips curling into a frown.
the sight of him stirs a whirlwind on emotions in you ─ hurt, anger, longing. you don't want to talk to him; you don't want to bring up the painful memories of his cruel words that still, undoubtedly, echo in your mind. you knew that confronting him would only remind you that he wanted nothing to do with you, but you also understand that conversation is important... even if it felt like a trap to you.
"i... heard you," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. you chew the skin of your cheek, your gaze dropping to your lap, unable to meet his intense stare.
"heard me what, kid?" he presses, his tone blunt, yet you sense a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface. his directness catches you off guard, and you feel the room closing in around you.
he leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. the posture is defensive, and you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, analysing every twitch of your expression, searching for any sign of what you're thinking. it's unnerving, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling exposed.
you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "i heard you say that you want nothing to do with me," you confess, the words tasting bitter on your tongue as the tears begin to brim in your eyes. "you're so... so cruel, chris."
chris' expression shifts a little, "you uh, you heard that?" he runs a hand through his messy hair, tongue prodding at his cheek, frustration evident in his movements. "jesus, kid, i ─ i didn't mean it like that, alright? i jus'... you think i wanna hurt you? huh?"
"then why did you say it?" your voice cracks, a mix of hurt and confusion spilling out.
"i didn't mean it," he repeats again, his voice rough around the edges, but there's a sincerity that catches you a little off guard. he pushes himself off the door, taking a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you. "look at me, kid. i didn't mean it... you ─ you listen t'me, okay? jus' listen for a sec."
you finally lift your head, meeting his gaze, and you can see the struggle in his eyes. the air is thick between you both as he sits down at the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.
"i..." chris exhales deeply through his nose, visibly struggling with his words. "what we have ─ this shit between us? it.. it's new f'me, okay? and ─ and i'm not the type to get all romantic and relationship-like, you know that. but i get this weird fuckin' shit in my chest whenever i'm with you, and i'm tryin' to figure out how this all works, yeah? i'm not... i'm not used to this."
you continue watching him in silence, your heart racing as you stare at him. the vulnerability in his expression surprises you.
"when i said that shit, about how i want nothin' to do with you? that was jus' to get him off my back, s'all ─ 'cos he kept goin' on and on, and it was pissin' me off and i needed him to shut the fuck up," chris explains to you. "i... i shouldn't have said it, alright? and ─ and i'm... i'm sorry, yeah? i'm sorry."
his apology hangs in the air, and you can see the seriousness etched on his face. the weight of his words settles over you, and you feel the walls around your heart begin to crack. the raw honesty in his voice makes you reconsider everything.
"didn't mean to hurt you, kid," chris adds, his tone softer than usual. "don't know how to handle everythin'. it scares the shit outta me, y'know?"
you nod slowly, "i... i get it," you reply, frowning softly. "but i don't know if i can trust you."
chris' jaw clenches for a moment, the muscles ticking rhythmically as he processes your words. "yeah, well, gonna have to try 'cos uh, i can't let you walk away like that again... yeah, s'not happenin'."
he clears his throat, scrunching his nose as he sniffs, and the familiar gesture brings a slight smile to your lips despite the heaviness of the moment.
"now wipe your face 'n scoot over, told your mom m'stayin' the night."
© STURNIOZ
authors note. writing fratboy!chris so vulnerable and soft is WEIRD EEE this isnt my fratboy!chris !!! bring back the pain !!!! (hope you like it tho anon i did this for you)
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heavenlyraindrops · 1 month ago
Text
The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter One
also on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), profanity, mentions of death, addiction, and prostitution
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summary:
In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.
Chapter One:
The undercity was certainly something.
Especially at night, when shadows extended their smoky tendrils to allow those dabbling in unsavoury business to lurk, gloomy buildings hiding things you’d be safer off not knowing within. People milling about, going about their private, dangerous business.
Water splashed across the street as your foot landed in a puddle, ankle twisting the wrong way as you tore through the filthy streets, enforcers hot on your heels. All this for heckling an officer? You clutched your shawl around you as the wind almost buffered it away.
It was ridiculous.
After bumping into a large man, a mother and her child, and knocking over a crate of sludge-y creatures, shouts trailing after you, you found an alleyway to disappear into. You scrambled up some wooden beams, eventually emerging onto the flat roof of the low, squatting building. You watched the idiotic Pilties run straight ahead, missing your small detour entirely, and scoffed, stepping away from the edge.
You turned, and made your way across the rooftops of Zaun. 
You’d reached an impasse. Well, not really- nothing a simple jump couldn’t fix. You squinted down into the dusty darkness of the narrow alley below your feet. This part of the undercity was silent- but you could hear the lapping water, and knew you were close to the river.
Vaulting over a concrete bar and pushing off with your feet, you landed on the other side of the gap with a thud. The roof shook, and you yelped as a tile slid off the edge, and crashed into the darkness.
Holding your breath, you heard nothing. The water continued to rumble. You turned to leave.
Until- 
“Fuck.”
You froze in horror. 
Creeping back towards the piped edge of the roof, weight on the backs of your feet, you peered into the darkness. The glowing end of a cigarette burned orange. You gulped.
A man emerged, stepping into your view. His brow was furrowed. Your hands were shaking. “I-I’m sorry!” You called out, and he scowled. 
“You nearly hit me!” He almost-yelled back. But taking a look at your face his expression softened. Against better judgement, you slid down the pipe, feet landing on the ground with an oof.
He looked at you, eyebrows raised. Someone in the undercity coming down to personally apologise for something like that instead of laughing in one’s face and running away was rare. He looked at the apologetic look on your face, and watched as you opened your mouth to speak while also stretching out your hand.
“I’m sorry…”
He reached for your hand too, ready to dismissively accept your apology and move on with his night.
“…But can I have a cigarette?”
His expression dropped.
You lazily took the cigarette from his hands and took a long, deep drag, tendrils of smoke curling from your mouth. At his frown, you moved it from your lips to speak.
“What? You don’t have herpes, do you? I’m not going to get it, am I?”
Wordlessly, he shook his head. You studied his face. Strong features, blue-green eyes. He wasn’t half bad looking.
I wouldn’t mind getting an STD from him.
Without a single reaction to your rather graphic thought you took another drag on the cigarette, before handing it back to him. “Thanks. Not everyone here knows that sharing is caring.”
He laughs, guarded, and then stops himself, surprised such a sound even came out at your words. You smiled at him sweetly. “And sorry for almost hitting your head and bashing it in with a tile. Though it wasn’t my fault, was it?”
“I suppose it was an accident,” he said stiffly, a strand of hair falling in front of his face. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel. “Miss…”
“[name]. Janna, I really needed to calm my nerves.” You stretched, arching your back like a cat, feeling the bones pop and muscles stretch deliciously. The man wet his lips, looking out at the street through the alley.
“And why would that be?” His voice was smooth. You readjusted your shawl. 
“Some enforcers were chasing me. The usual.” You let out a slow sigh, going to leave the alley without as much as a goodbye. He didn’t say anything, just watched you leave.
You planted a foot out into the street.
“That’s her!” 
You whipped your head around, watching a gaggle enforcers charging towards you. A scream tore from your lips you rushed back into the alleyway. The man grabbed you as you almost crashed into his chest.
“Fucking run!”
Shimmying up the pipe, you were back on the roof. You didn’t spare a turn to look back as your heavy lunges rattled the roofs, leaping over bars and gaps. You turned and saw an enforcer slip through a gap in the roofs, crashing into the street below. The man from the alley was just at your shoulder. Without a sparing a second you turned and left.
Once you were certain you’d lost the enforcers you stopped, chest heaving, and slumped onto the ground- roof- beneath you. The man stayed standing, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.
“Okay,” you gasped, turning over. “Now I’m actually sorry.” Coughing while trying to catch your breath you extended a hand. “Do you have water or something? I’m sorry.”
He let out a heavy sigh, not knowing how to behave in this situation as he took out a flask, crouching down and holding it out to you as you continuously mumbled apologies. You gulped down the water inside. “It isn’t poisoned, is it?” You sighed, wiping your mouth as you handed it back. He sat down as he took it, joining you on the slanted roof. 
“You only think to ask that after you’ve downed half the thing?” His voice was filled with amusement. You ignored him.
“I’m sorry, mister…”
“Silco.”
You stared at him as he took out another cigarette, patting his pockets for a lighter. Without a word you took one out, flicking it open and pushing down to activate the flame. You held it in front of his face. “I’m sorry, Silco.”
The cigarette lit up. You studied his profile, mainly the line of his sharp nose as he inhaled deeply.
“It’s fine. Why do you keep apologizing?”
“I got you involved in a chase with enforcers after almost dropping a tile on your head and taking your cigarette.”
“You didn’t have to take the cigarette,” he muttered, miffed. You ignored him, the lighter snapping shut. “And my plans for the night have been ruined…”
“I’m sorry,” you repeated. He looked at you, chuckling. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, if you want.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Such generosity is rare.”
“Not generosity. Justice.”
He laughed again, at your dramatics this time as he rolled the cigarette in between his long fingers. “Right. Justice.”
“So, one favour.”
“That’s a dangerous offer, [name].” A thought struck him, and he furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me you’re from topside.”
You stared at him for a minute, then scoffed. “Of course I’m not. What makes you think that?”
“Your naivety.” He blew smoke from his lungs, and you watched as it curled over the rooftops. “It’s not a good idea to go around offering favours to strangers.”
“I’m as much of a trencher as you are, Silco,” you scoffed.
At this, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You stared at him in shock as his lip curled, expression furious. You blinked, unmoving. 
“Zaunite.”
“Wh-what?”
“Use Zaunite. Not the name they gave us.” His grip on your wrist loosened before falling away completely. You nodded.
“Right.”
It fell silent.
“And I’ll never cash in that favour.”
You tilted your head. “Why not?”
“Because, it’s a stupid idea. If anything, I’m doing you a favour.” Another drag. You turned over to look at the sky.
“Thanks… I guess?”
He chuckled again, smoke curling from in between his teeth. Your face felt warm. “You’re strange.”
“So I’ve been told. What exactly were the plans for your night that I so rudely ruined?”
He didn’t say anything.
“I hope you weren’t visiting a cathouse.”
He groaned, and you laughed, snatching the cigarette off of him. He didn’t stop you. “Certainly not. Not for the cats, at least.”
“The cats?”
“The women, [name].”
“Well, what else would you go there for?”
“You’d be surprised.”
You frown. “Right… so no prostitutes.”
“Definitely not. It’s an immoral practice.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “A trencher with morals. I see.”
“Zaunite,” he said through gritted teeth.
You shrugged, sucking on the cigarette. “Well, I don’t care. They’re just making a living.”
“And what would you consider immoral?”
You blew out a cloud of smoke, and for a moment you considered saying something that he’d agree with, racking your brains for an appropriate answer. He clearly hated topside…
“What those Pilties are doing. Their prejudice against us,” you said proudly. He gave a small laugh.
“Right. Everyone thinks that. Something unique, please.”
You stayed silent. “Well… I do believe capitalising on addiction is quite immoral.”
“Ironic, considering that cigarette you’re holding.”
“There are extremes.” Your voice was low, and it was clear there was a story behind the subject. He didn’t press you, simply watching you put out the cigarette on the tin roof, your appetite for nicotine crushed.
After a quiet moment you spoke. “My sister was pregnant. Some… drug lord got her hooked onto something.” You rested your head down. “It was dangerous. They don’t make it anymore.” He hummed silently. “I lost both her and the baby. And she was all I had left, so…”
“The father?”
You scoffed, and that told him more than he needed to know.
“That… drug… business owner… whatever he was- he didn’t need money. He was filthy rich,” you spat. “A-“ your eyes slid to Silco- “A Zaunite, hoarding money, sucking life out of his own people, and not sharing a single drop. I hate that bastard.”
“What became of him?”
“Business crushed, killed by enforcers.” Your response was curt.
He hummed. “Well, in that case, I certainly won’t go down that path.”
“…I suppose I won’t work in a brothel either.”
“Or own one,” he added. You laughed.
“Or own one.”
You sighed gently, standing up. “Well, I hope whatever business you missed gets resolved. Goodbye, Silco.” You made to climb down to the street.
“Wait-“
You looked up.
“You said you don’t have anyone. If you’re ever… looking for company, go to the Last Drop. Tell the bartender you’re looking for Silco.”
Your eyes enlarged as you stowed the name in your memory. “The Last Drop,” you repeated, then nodded.
“Goodbye, [name].” 
You smiled again, and dropped down into the crowd.
When you looked back up to the sky, to the roof, he was gone.
-
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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months ago
Text
Mʏ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Bɪʀᴅ || 𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐝 ||
A/n: I've become obsessed with him
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"Little bird! Hold up...you do not know which creatures could be lurking about." Elrond shouted trailing behind you.
"How will I be able to protect you when you are unable to stay in one place for more than two seconds!" He shouted glancing at the wet stones as you seemed to be gliding across.
An airy laugh escaped your lips as you paused on one of the rocks, your fingers clutching your dress as you tilted your head to the side. "Oh yes! Protect me dear Eldron....from the ankle deep water." You teased continuing on your way.
Elrond huffed, following you on the stones, his light and careful footsteps making sure not to even get his boots wet
"I will not be mocked" His voice as he carefully maneuvered across the rocks. "The water can be hiding dangerous things and not to mention it's easy to trip....I do not wish for you to injure yourself."
Letting out a hum, you continued to hop from rock to rock until you finally reached the spot of land dropping your dress into the dirt.
"And pray tell me what dangerous things could be hiding in the waters?" You teased.
Finally managing to cross and step down on the land, he made his way towards you not even thinking about the question.
"well there could be fish" he paused "or a very angry otter maybe, or the most dangerous of all: frogs, you clearly can't take on a frog on your own"
Throwing your head back for a laugh you stepped close to the man placing your hand on his chest with a grin forming on your face."Oh yes! My dear Elrond! Please protect me from the vicious frog. He may hop at me!"
Elrond chuckled, his chest moving under your hand as he gently wrapped his arm around your waist.
"Do not under estimate the frog, their looks are deceiving"
The elf warned playfully before his arm pulled you even closer, your chest gently colliding with his chest.
Gaze softening, you let your lips brush across his cheek. "You're adorable."
"and you're reckless" he said, his tone more serious, as he felt your lips against his cheek and his breath hitched and his cheeks began to flush a very soft shade of pink, but a pink shade none the less, despite being centuries old he still wasn't used to the affect you had on him.
Letting your fingers clutch his robe, a giggle left your lips.
'Cute' you couldn't help but think.
"Since I am so reckless...I bet you can't catch me." With a wink you gave him a playful shove then took off running through the forest.
Elrond could help but just stare for a split second, a little speechless, his cheeks a soft pink as he watched you run off before he snapped out of it the thoughts racing through his mind.
"oh that just isn't fair!"
He shouted as he started to run after you, managing to keep up with you despite you having a head start off of your earlier push and shoving, the elf was determined to catch you.
Your laugh echoed throughout the forest, feet barely touching the ground as you ran, your hair flowing behind you intending on taking him to one of your favorite spots.
The elven lord could only manage to curse under his breath,as he found it hard to catch up to you, the elf was fast and agile but his robes were slowing him down quite a bit, the only thing he was thankful for was the fact the forest was mainly open, so he wasn't having to duck under low branches and weave in-between trees to get to you.
Rushing through the fields, you slowed to a stop nearing the edge of a cliff that over looked a lake. Chest heaving as you glanced over your shoulder flashing him a grin.
"Fancy a swim?"
Holding your hand out for him, you tiled your head to the side.
It took a moment or two for the poor elf to finally catch up to you, his own chest heaving and breath heavy in an attempt to properly breathe, a hand on a tree supporting his weight.
"you...You are a menace" Elrond wheezed between breaths, before looking up at you then down towards the lake below as he grasped your hand softly.
"But you love it." You whispered, your eyes mischievous as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
A deep chuckle escaped his chest as he gently squeezed your hand. "Anything for you, my little bird."
Smile brimming with happiness, you tugged him forward leaping off the edge of the cliff still holding his hand into the water bellow.
A shout leaving his lips, a laugh leaving yours.
He would do anything for you, for his little bird.
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