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just-aake · 11 hours ago

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A Feline Connection Part 7

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has to face the harsh reality that she can’t help everyone.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, light fluff

Words: 3790

“Whitney Frost, daughter of Byron Frost—a typical Wall Street tycoon,” Tony’s voice echoes through the phone as he reads out the details FRIDAY managed to dig up.

On Natasha’s screen, she can see multiple files and articles pulled up on Tony’s monitors, the holographic images casting a blue glow on his face as he continues.

“There are plenty of articles about her earlier years. Standard socialite magazine garbage—life of a spoiled rich kid, extravagant parties, lavish vacations. You get the idea.”

Natasha lets out a dry scoff at the irony, her lips curling slightly.

“Coming from the playboy billionaire who once blew up half of his mansion?”

Tony gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his chest in a wounded gesture.

“Watch it, Romanoff. I’m helping you here.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha nods. “My bad. Please, continue.”

Tony huffs, turning his attention back to his screens.

“After her father’s death, she goes dark for a couple of years. No public appearances, no sightings—nothing. Coincidentally, around the same time, reports start cropping up about a new leader rising within one of the East Coast’s major crime families. Descriptions of the leader consistently include one distinct detail: a golden mask, giving them the title–”

“Madame Masque,” Natasha finishes for him, her tone flat.

“Bingo,” Tony confirms. “Over the years, she’s pulled off some pretty big moves. Arms deals, arson, major heists—she’s dangerous, Nat.”

There’s a shuffle of papers in the background, and Peter’s voice chimes in.

“I don’t get it, Mr. Stark. If she was already rich, why turn to crime?”

Natasha doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“It’s not always about money,” she says. “Sometimes it’s just about power and control.”

A brief silence follows, the weight of her words sinking in.

Tony’s expression darkens slightly, and even Peter doesn’t offer a rebuttal. They all know Natasha is right.

People like Whitney thrive on domination, bending others to their will.

Natasha’s frown deepens, her thoughts drifting back to the night before—the memory of you leaving with Whitney still fresh and raw. She exhales slowly, the sting of hurt in her chest flaring again, though she pushes it down.

Suddenly, Tony’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“Okay, I can’t ignore this anymore. What are you doing?”

Natasha’s brows knit in confusion as she glances at the screen. “What do you mean?”

Tony leans closer to the camera, pointing a finger at her with exaggerated disbelief.

“Why are you bottle-feeding that cat like it’s a baby?”

Natasha pulls Widow closer, cradling the tiny feline protectively against her chest. In her free hand, she holds a small baby bottle filled with water, offering it near the cat’s mouth.

“She still won’t eat complete meals,” Natasha explains defensively. “At least this way, she’s staying hydrated.”

Widow lets out a faint, sad meow, turning away from the bottle and burrowing deeper into Natasha’s arm.

Natasha sighs softly, her expression tinged with disappointment as she looks down at the cat.

Peter’s voice pipes up from off-screen.

“Miss Romanoff, I could go pick up some different kinds of cat food if you’d like?”

Before Natasha can respond, Tony waves him off.

“Great idea, kid. Take my card and have at it.”

“Awesome,” Peter replies, his excitement evident as he disappears from view.

As soon as Peter is gone, Natasha raises an eyebrow at Tony.

“Was that really a good idea?”

Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Eh, it’ll be fine.”

“So, what is it?” Natasha asks knowingly. She can tell Tony got rid of Peter so that he would not hear whatever it is Tony was holding back.

“Some tough love,” he says bluntly, his relaxed demeanor shifting into something more serious. He leans forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “Look, Nat, if your friend is running with people like Whitney Frost, you might need to face the facts.”

“Which are?” Natasha’s tone grows colder, her jaw tightening.

“She’s a criminal,” Tony states flatly, the words landing like a stone.

Natasha’s frown deepens, the label grating against her as she reflexively clutches Widow a little tighter. “And?”

Tony sighs, shaking his head as if she’s missing the obvious.

“You need to start treating her like one.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow.

“Did you forget I used to be an assassin?” she counters, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

“And now you’re an Avenger,” Tony fires back without missing a beat. “Not everyone’s like you, Nat. Not everyone wants to change.”

The silence stretches between them, tension simmering as Natasha processes his words.

Seeing her still hesitant to accept the fact, he adds softly, “You can’t help someone who doesn’t even want it.”

Natasha frowns, her eyes drifting down to the little cat in her arms. She strokes her fur delicately, and Widow returns a faint purr in response, though she still refuses to move much more than that.

“Send me everything you have on Whitney and Madame Masque,” Natasha says, her determination resolving.

She’s not going to give up on you so easily.

Tony studies her for a moment, his expression knowing before he sighs and leans back in his chair.

“Already done.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A deep sigh escapes Natasha as she rubs her tired eyes, trying to dispel the exhaustion. The hours have stretched into the late night, a glance at the window and then at the clock on her tablet confirming just how much time has passed.

Beside her on the couch, Widow is curled into a small ball, her tiny body seeming to shrink further with every passing moment.

The meal Natasha had prepared for her earlier sits barely touched—a few nibbles at best.

Though, in her tired mind, Natasha can’t help but let a stray thought creep in: maybe her cooking is bad enough to deter a cat.

The self-deprecating humor makes her sigh again, a sure sign of just how drained she feels.

Setting the tablet on the table, Natasha leans back against the armrest of the couch, her head tilting to rest against the cushion. She raises an arm to cover her eyes, allowing herself just a brief reprieve, not planning to sleep but needing the darkness to ease the strain from hours of research.

For a while, the silence wraps around her like a blanket.

Natasha focuses on her breathing, the steady rise and fall helping her ground herself.

Eventually, she debates whether she has it in her to dive back into her work for the night when a sudden movement shifts at her side.

Tiny paws pad up her torso, and then a soft weight settles against her stomach.

A familiar, distinct meow breaks the quiet—a chirping, happy sound Natasha hasn’t heard from Widow in days.

She freezes, her body going rigid as suspicion blooms in her chest. Breathing slowly, Natasha tries to maintain her sleeping position so as not to give herself away.

Widow’s sudden shift in mood—it could only mean one thing.

“I know you’re awake,” your voice cuts through the stillness, warm and teasing from just above her.

Realizing she’s caught, Natasha exhales softly with a mix of both relief at your presence but also mild frustration at the fact that you were able to sneak up on her again.

She removes her arm from her eyes, blinking up to meet your gaze.

You’re leaning casually against the back of the couch, your head tilted and resting atop the cushion, a small smirk on your lips.

“It’s way too early for you to have fallen asleep,” you tease lightly, your voice carrying that familiar playful lilt.

Your attention shifts to Widow, who’s now eagerly leaning against the cushion to lick at your outstretched hand.

“Isn’t that right, Widow?” you coo, your tone softening as you address the little cat.

Widow chirps again, louder this time, in agreement and nuzzles against your hand with obvious affection.

Natasha can’t help but scoff, shaking her head at the way the two of you seem to operate as a perfect team.

Carefully, she sits up, trying not to disturb Widow perched atop her.

However, the movement brings her face unintentionally close to yours. She stills as she realizes the proximity, her lips parting slightly as the quip she intended to deliver gets caught in her throat.

Instead, all that escapes is a soft exhale.

Your smirk falters, replaced by a small, almost sad smile. Your eyes search hers, lingering as if you can see something more beyond her carefully maintained exterior.

The intensity of the moment steals Natasha’s breath, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

Breaking the tension, you lift a hand into view, holding up a bag of takeout containers.

“I brought dinner,” you say softly, the warmth in your tone cutting through the charged silence.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha sits cross-legged on the couch, a takeout box resting limply on her lap as her attention drifts away from the half-eaten meal inside.

Instead, her gaze falls on the two of you.

You’re seated on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, also cross-legged, with Widow nestled comfortably in your lap.

The little cat looks more content than she has in days, her tiny paws resting on the edge of the table as she eagerly eats the torn-up pieces of meat you prepared for her.

A wave of relief washes over Natasha at the sight of Widow eating normally again, her movements lively and natural. It eases the knot of worry that’s been sitting in her chest, but as always, her focus inevitably drifts to you.

It’s a pull she can’t resist, her gaze lingering on the subtle details in your expression, the quiet ease with which you handle the moment.

Natasha absently stirs the noodles in her box, her mind turning over the question she’s been holding back since you arrived. It gnaws at her, but finding the right way to ask feels like navigating a minefield.

“How…” she begins, her voice hesitant, but the words falter.

Natasha bites her lip, uncertain whether she has the right to pry into your life any deeper.

You glance up at her, catching on to the unfinished question. Setting your takeout container on the table, you tilt your head slightly, offering her an easy opening.

“How am I here?” you ask knowingly, your voice gentle.

Wordlessly, Natasha nods, grateful but wary of the answer.

“You didn’t look at the USB?” you ask, a touch of curiosity in your tone.

Natasha shakes her head.

“I was busy worrying about more pressing matters,” she says, her eyes flicking meaningfully to Widow, who’s still munching happily in your lap. “And anyway, it didn’t seem like she wanted me to have it in the first place.”

You huff lightly at her words, and with an amused shake of your head, you turn Widow to face you, your fingers gently scratching behind her ears.

“You were supposed to give it to her,” you chide playfully.

Widow lets out a small, sassy meow, as if to argue her point, and then wiggles free from your grasp.

Natasha watches with mild curiosity as the little cat pads over to the side table, where the USB has sat untouched for days. Widow grabs the small device in her mouth and trots back toward Natasha.

Stopping at her side, Widow drops the USB onto Natasha’s lap with a decisive plop before looking up at her with a smug little chirp, her tail swishing behind her.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile as she picks up the USB.

“Thank you,” she remarks dryly, her tone soft but teasing.

Widow lets out a pleased meow, circling once before hopping back into your lap, her little body nestling comfortably against you.

Natasha’s gaze shifts to the USB, her fingers brushing over its surface thoughtfully, before lifting her eyes to meet yours.

“So,” she says, her tone calm but tinged with curiosity, “what exactly am I going to find on here?”

You glance down at Widow, stroking her head absently as you answer, your voice steady but carrying an undertone of something more.

“Whitney had a scheduled meeting out of state with some buyers tonight.”

At the mention of the other woman, Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, reading between the lines.

“So this is…?”

“Everything you need to finish your original mission,” you reply evenly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression. “The buyers’ identities, their locations, the details of each weapons deal. Enough to track them down and stop the weapons from being used in the wrong hands.”

Natasha studies you closely, her sharp instinct catching on to the underlying reason for your sudden assistance in her original mission.

“To shift my attention from Whitney.”

Your silence at her pointed remark is telling.

Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, the unspoken truth hanging between you. She tilts her head, her voice firmer now.

“Why are you protecting her?”

You flinch slightly at the accusation, your hand pausing mid-stroke on Widow’s fur. After a moment, you let out a sigh, your gaze drifting downward.

“You know, it wasn’t always like this between us,” you say quietly.

Natasha stays silent, letting you continue.

“Her dad—her real dad—was the original leader of the organization,” you explain, your voice tinged with something softer, almost nostalgic. “I met her when she was training to take over his position. Or, rather, she found me. I was just a simple thief back then. But not to her.”

You pause, your hand resuming its slow strokes over Widow’s fur as you collect your thoughts.

“She made me an offer—something I never expected. Another opportunity for my life. To join her. She saw something in me. Something…more.”

The words hang in the air, and Natasha feels a pang of understanding, recalling her own experience from the past.

“It felt good,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Having someone look at you like that, like you’re worth something. Like you could be more than you ever thought of yourself.”

You let out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“She’s always been good at that. Making you feel special. Like you’re the only one who matters.”

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly, her arms folding across her chest as she listens. She doesn’t interrupt, sensing the weight behind your words.

“No matter what she did—how far she went—I always found a way to forgive her,” you continue, your tone darkening. “Until I couldn’t anymore.”

There’s a long pause, the quiet broken only by the faint sounds of Widow’s contented purring. Finally, you lift your gaze to Natasha’s, the vulnerability in your eyes stark, unguarded, and disarming.

“And then I met you,” you say softly, your voice carrying a bittersweet edge. “And for a while, I felt that same thing again. That feeling from the beginning—when it was just lighthearted, fun, and flirty, intoxicating even.”

Natasha’s breath catches, her chest tightening at the quiet admission. The honesty in your words cuts through the usual banter and teasing, leaving her unsure how to respond.

“But I already know how this ends,” you add, your voice softer now, tinged with resignation. “I’ve seen it before. And I can’t…” You trail off, shaking your head slightly, the words left unfinished.

Natasha watches you closely, her sharp gaze softening despite the weight of your rejection. She leans forward, her voice low but steady in understanding.

“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

Her tone shifts, gaining a quiet intensity and insistence.

“But you don’t need to stay with her either. We can figure out a way to disengage the bomb without you returning to her. A way to keep you both safe.”

Your gaze lowers, regret flickering in your expression. When you finally speak, your voice is heavy with sorrow.

“I have to go back.”

Natasha’s lips part in protest, her brows knitting together in frustration, but before she can speak, you cut her off, your tone firmer now.

“Not because of the bomb,” you clarify. “But because of what I did to her.”

You rise slowly, retrieving the tablet from the table, its screen still displaying the research Tony sent on Whitney. Sensing the shift, Widow hops into Natasha’s lap, purring softly as Natasha strokes her fur, grounding herself.

Sitting down beside her, you scroll through the files until you find what you’re looking for. Wordlessly, you turn the screen toward her.

Natasha scans the report, her frown deepening with each line.

It details a failed raid on a Stark Industries facility, ending in a catastrophic explosion. Operatives were killed or gravely injured. Their leader, however, was not discovered among those found.

“I abandoned her that night,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “None of that would have happened if I had stayed.”

“You don’t know that,” Natasha counters firmly, her gaze snapping to yours, her hand reaching out instinctively to rest atop yours.

A faint, sad smile tugs at your lips at her touch, and you shake your head slightly.

“I appreciate the thought,” you reply, your voice tinged with bittersweet humor, “but we both know that’s not true—especially considering how I’ve managed to sneak past Stark’s defenses twice now without any problems.”

The smirk you add at the end is small, almost fleeting, but it carries a sting of truth that Natasha can’t ignore.

You’re exceptionally skilled. She can’t deny that.

Your fingers brush hers lightly, tracing the bandages covering her knuckles. A contemplative sadness crosses your face.

Then slowly, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft, almost apologetic kiss against her skin before lowering it back onto Widow’s fur.

“I’m not innocent here, Natasha,” you continue resolutely, your voice low, as if the words are for you as much as for her. “I never was.”

Natasha’s jaw tightens at your words, but she doesn’t interrupt as you continue.

“I owe her a lot,” you admit, your voice heavy with the weight of your past. “She gave me a chance when no one else did. She saw something in me that I couldn’t. And yet…” Your voice falters slightly, but you press on.

“I still betrayed her in the end.”

Your gaze shifts to Natasha, your eyes meeting hers with a depth of emotion that makes her chest ache.

“You deserve more than to wait for me to eventually do the same to you,” you say softly. “More than I already have.”

Natasha’s chest tightens, the quiet ache spreading as she watches you, her gaze taking in every flicker of pain and regret etched across your features.

But this time, it’s not sadness that rises within her—it’s anger. Not at you, but at everything else.

At Whitney, for manipulating you. At the circumstances that have pushed you to this breaking point. And most of all, at the invisible chains of guilt that hold you hostage, preventing you from seeing a way out.

Her hands twitch, the urge to reach for you almost overwhelming. She wants to close the distance between you, to grasp your shoulders and shake you free from the weight of your past, to tell you that this isn’t your only option.

But she hesitates, her fingers curling into fists as she forces herself to stop.

Forcing you to accept her help, no matter how badly she wants to, would make her no different from Whitney. It would just be another form of control, another pressure you don’t deserve.

And Natasha refuses to become that.

Instead, after a long pause, she speaks with quiet determination.

“What will happen to Widow?”

You look down at the small cat, curled up peacefully in Natasha’s lap, and sigh.

“I can’t bring her back with me,” you admit, your voice thick with regret. “But I’ll stay with her as long as I can tonight. Make sure she’s okay, and I’ll explain it to her—let her think it’s like last time, when she stayed with you while I was away.”

You glance at Natasha, searching for her response.

“If…you’re still willing to take care of her?”

Natasha straightens slightly, her expression softening as a small smirk forms on her lips.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

Your lips twitch into a faint smile at her answer, gratitude flickering in your eyes.

But Natasha isn’t done. She leans forward, her tone resolute as her gaze locks onto yours.

“You don’t have to keep punishing yourself,” she says, her words deliberate and carefully chosen. “If you feel guilty about what you’ve done, you can always make it right for yourself. You still have that choice.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, an unspoken plea woven into her steady tone.

Natasha’s expression holds no judgment, only quiet insistence and something deeper—hope.

The silence that follows feels fragile, as if it could shatter at the wrong move.

Widow shifts slightly in her lap, her tiny body curling closer as her soft purring fills the space between you.

It’s a faint sound, but comforting nonetheless, grounding you in a moment that feels far too heavy for words.

For a fleeting second, Natasha sees something in your eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker, as if her words might be reaching you.

But then your gaze drops, breaking the connection, and the moment slips away.

Without a word, you gently lift Widow from her lap, cradling her with the same care Natasha has come to associate with you, and rise to your feet.

Natasha sits up a little straighter, her sharp eyes following your movements as you step toward the hallway, your figure outlined by the dim glow of the room.

“Try to get some rest, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone steady but carrying a subtle finality that roots her in place. You pause just before disappearing from sight, your head turning slightly as if debating whether to say more.

“You, out of everyone, deserve it.”

The words linger in the air long after you’ve gone into your bedroom, wrapping around Natasha like a quiet echo.

She stays where she is, her fingers drifting absentmindedly over the fabric of the couch where you’d been sitting just moments ago, as if tracing the memory of you.

The warmth of your presence is gone, replaced by an emptiness that spreads through the room, making it feel colder, quieter.

Natasha exhales slowly, leaning back against the couch and staring at the space where you had disappeared from her view.

She knows you meant those words for her, but the ache in her chest tells her they’re something you’ve denied yourself for far too long.

“So do you,” she whispers into the empty room, her voice barely audible but filled with a longing that she knows you’ll never let yourself hear.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Fair warning, I believe there’s only a couple parts left in this series. But don’t quote me on this cause we all know I’ve never been good at predicting the number of chapters left. Again thanks for reading!

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it or if the tag did not work for you, please let me know.

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jasvtsc · 2 days ago

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demon!dean x angel!reader.

tw! mentions of death, anxiety, blood, graphic language, manipulation, dean being an a-hole, corruption, grammar mistakes (ig)

word count! 2.1k

it was hard seeing dean in this state.

at first, you thought he was dead. you watched him die in your arms. then, you found out that he was a demon? and to make everything worse, no one wanted to tell you anything — they thought it was for the best.

why? you had no clue.

so, when they brought him in, back to the bunker, you almost got a heart attack. you wanted to scream, cry, throw up and do everything else that humans do when they’re overstimulated with emotions. however, your state of distressed euphoria didn’t last for long when the bad news came crashing down on you, making you hyperventilate and experience what was called a panic attack. while you were getting more human, your beloved was turning into his worst nightmare.

dean was a demon.

yeah, he indeed died a year prior, but because he was bearing the Mark Of Cain at that time, he was resurrected. and you weren’t exactly sure if you were happy about that.

sure, it was dean. he looked the same.

but it wasn’t your dean.

those green eyes, once full of love and adoration for you, now were as empty as the hole in your heart that his death left. whenever you looked at him, you didn’t see him — the soul once shattered but put back together by you. now, it was only darkness which consumed every tiny bit of light you tried so hard to put in him.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were sitting in the war room in your usual place — an armchair in the corner, right next to the cabinet stuffed with lore books and other things. nervously picking at your wings, you let the feathers drop to the ground as you stared with empty eyes at the wall in front of you. castiel and sam were discussing what to do with dean and how could they possibly save him — if the whole process was even reversible.

you had no idea how they managed to catch him in the first place and drag him back here — no one was telling you anything. you were as clueless as you could be, knowing only that the man you loved the most was now the creature of darkness you were taught to despise since the early stage of creation.

you didn’t get a chance to talk to him yet. and you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to. you only saw how they dragged his unconscious body to the basement and locked him up in there, chained to the chair in the middle of the anti-possession symbol.

as more and more feathers covered the wooden floor, the man and your angel brother noticed the state you were in. they looked at each other and then back at you. sam sighed and came closer, placing his hand on your shoulder. you shivered lightly and looked at the younger winchester.

“hey, listen, we think that we found something which can help bring dean back. but we can’t leave him alone here so—“ sam explained with a soft smile, and you could see that when he turned his head towards cas, he wanted him to continue. the angel widened his eyes and nodded.

“oh, yeah. we want you to stay with him,” as always, painfully straightforward.

“why me? can’t one of you stay?” because frankly, you didn’t want to face him. not yet.

“birdie, you’re—“ sam started, but you quickly cut him off.

“don’t call me that,” you said with a stern voice, your tone almost threatening. it was what dean used to call you. no way you’d let this word slip from someone else’s mouth — it was reserved only for dean winchester.

“okay, fine, i won’t,” he raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as he felt like you were about to hit him with something. “it’s just… you’re in no shape to go outside at the moment. look what you’ve done to your wings—“

“what i do with them is my fucking business,” you hissed, and both of them were stunned. you just cursed.

they were looking at you in disbelief, and suddenly, you felt embarrassed with your little outburst. however, you weren’t going to apologize for your feelings — you had an absolute right to be upset and frustrated. so, shooting them both a cold glare, you left the room.

in the end, you were left alone with dean. it took you some time to mentally prepare for the confrontation. but eventually, you pulled your shit together and decided to go down to the basement.

carrying a tray with some food, you slowly opened the door and peeked inside. suddenly, you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and your mouth was dry as if you hadn’t seen a drop of water in days. you slowly walked out into the dim light, showing yourself to him after god knows how long.

and then, you heard it — a mocking, cold-hearted chuckle that echoed through the air.

“oh, now, who do we have here? my little birdie. i missed you so much, baby. did you miss me, too?” he asked with a cruel smirk, tilting his head to the side as he sized you up, his eyes flashing a pitch-black colour for a second.

for some reason, all the courage you built up in yourself vanished as soon as you made eye contact with him. he was scary. you never thought you’d admit it, but you were genuinely scared of the man who once used to hold you so dearly in his arms, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he placed small kisses on your temple. now, he had this darkness in his soul that made you want to hurl — your angelic nature physically declining being anywhere near such evil.

you tightened your fingers on the tray, looking around the room, thinking what you should do. you couldn’t free him from his restraints, but then again, he had to eat, somehow. because still, you cared about him. fuck, you still loved him.

“come on, birdie. you’re not even going to say hi to me? please, let me have a look at your pretty face. it’s been so long,” he cooed, suddenly putting on that soft voice you were so used to hearing. but then again, you could just sense the mockery and the dark intention behind his words. everything coming out of his mouth in this moment was insincere.

but was that enough to make you weak? yes.

because, oh god, even if it was just for your delusions and how naive you were, you just wanted him back. you wanted your dean back, and you were ready to pretend as long as it was needed.

so, slowly, you looked up at him, trying to hold back your tears as they dwelled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your rosy cheeks.

dean smirked menacingly, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly white teeth, letting out a grunt as he bit his lower lip, slightly thrusting his hips forward and spreading his legs.

“there we go. my good little angel,” he taunted, eyeing you up and down with a predatory smile.

“what happened to you?” you asked meekly, your voice trembling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. you were sick to your stomach, and the smell of evil basically radiating from him didn’t help.

“me? nothing, birdie. it’s me, dean. your dean. your precious human, don’t you remember?” he tried acting clueless and innocent but quickly gave in to his demonic nature, letting out a cruel laugh as he threw his head back. “come on, don’t act so fucking dense. i’m a demon, now. you should’ve gathered that much by now. or did they not tell you? no wonder. you’re so fucking infantile that it’s just straight-up pathetic. you’re not a fucking kid. sure, you’re this cute, little, clueless angel. but come on, use your damn feathered brain sometimes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

and holy shit, did that hurt.

you bit your lower lip, your eyes now obviously glossy when you let out a small sniffle. you just wanted to run and hide somewhere, away from him and his cruel insults. now, you were 100% sure.

it wasn’t your dean.

you were ready to leave the basement. you turned around and took a deep breath, but dean wouldn’t let you go so easily. as soon as he noticed that you wanted to escape, he used his soft voice. again.

“hey, hey, hey. birdie, i’m sorry. you know i didn’t mean that. it’s just—“ he grunted as if he was struggling. “it’s this demon in me. i can’t control it,” he started panting heavily, a smirk still on his face as you were turned with your back facing him. “birdie, please. you have to believe me. i would never hurt you.”

damn, did that work.

hearing him struggle and be in pain just cut at your heartstrings. quickly, you turned around with a panicked expression and stepped closer to him.

“dean?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears flooded your face, dropping from your chin onto his thighs. he nodded, putting on an act and using his most pathetic expression.

“it’s me, birdie. please, help me,” he almost choked on his words, his voice pained and hurting. “please, baby, you’re the only one i can count on.”

you knew you’d probably regret that later. but jesus, you were so gullible, and you loved him so much.

almost immediately, you freed him from his restraints, cupping his face and stroking his stubbled cheeks. he sighed and grabbed your wrists, giving them a gentle squeeze as he leaned into your touch. at this point, you were long gone.

“tell me what’s happening, dean. let me help you,” you whispered, carefully scanning his face, still clueless that all of it was just a scene.

“it hurts. baby, it hurts so badly,” he whimpered, squeezing your wrists tighter. hearing that only made you panic even more.

“where? tell me where, i’ll heal you,” you sobbed, your vision blurry because of your tears.

“you can’t. you can’t heal it,” he panted, closing his eyes shut and grunting in mock pain.

“what do you mean?” you widened your eyes. “why not?”

“there’s only one way you can help me,” and you were ready to do anything for him, your self-preservation instincts turned off instantly. with a nod, you encouraged him to continue. “birdie, i need your blood.”

and that was enough for you to freeze on the spot. your mouth went dry, and you exhaled a shaky breath. he needed your blood, which was probably the most sacred thing in the universe. angel blood was the rarest to get, and it had its power.

“h-how? why?” you stuttered, shaking your head as you tried to understand it. you didn’t know anything about angels helping someone with their blood. and you were scared of the possible consequences.

dean cursed in his head, trying his best not to frown and scoff. instead, he kept on with the pathetic act. he whimpered again and then grunted, leaning forward as he put his hand on his chest, pretending that he struggled to breathe.

“please. i- i can’t,” he groaned and then screamed in pain.

“okay, what do i do?” you asked, widening your eyes as even more panic flooding your system.

“feed it to me. please, birdie. let me drink your blood,” he begged and then, you acted purely on your feelings, throwing any remaining logical thought out the window.

without much further ado, you lifted one of your wings and took a single feather. you slit your wrist with the sharper end, and as the crimson liquid started dripping down your skin at high speed, you put it closer to his face.

dean closed his eyes and inhaled the metallic scent. it took him a lot of effort not to moan in pure pleasure and excitement. he licked his lips and then grabbed your hand, putting his mouth in your wrist and drinking your blood like a man starved. you gasped and scrunched your eyes, tilting your head away as he dug his teeth into your skin for a better grip.

you began to feel more and more lightheaded as he drank more and more of your blood. when you finally looked back at him, only then did you realize your mistake. his eyes were pitch black, and his mouth was covered in your blood. he pulled away and smiled sadistically, looking at you like a feral animal.

he pushed you onto the floor and chuckled darkly, looking around the room. he grabbed the feather you dropped and it practically rotted in his hand, turning into a dark blade-like object. you widened your eyes, crawling away from him as he started to walk towards you with a bloodthirsty smile. and then, only one word slipped from his blood-covered mouth.

“run.”

a/n: idea inspired by @angelicjackles !! lmk what you think, all feedback is very much appreciated:))

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @a1ecmcdowell @angelicp0etry @figthoughts @fitxgrld @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01

#jasvtsc #jasvtsc writing #dean winchester x angel!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester one shot #demon!dean #demon!dean x angel!reader #supernatural one shot #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader

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cherry-pop-elf · 1 day ago

Text

Kiss it Better Pt:3

Curly x Reader

AN: I am just speechless. All this support is making me tear up. Like holy shit. Thank you. Don’t worry! When this finishes(god idk how it will I’m making up as I go since yall want more chapters) I’ll make sure to post it to AO3 for easier access! Just thank you again! And uh. Don’t forget I have a Kofi and Wishlist if you wanna like tip or something. NO PRESSURE! Just a reminder to anyone who WANTS and CAN! You come first! Just. Thank you again!

SUM: You couldn’t sleep, so you try and remember things with Curly to lull you to sleep. As you do, you remember things that are important for a captain to have. Very important, and you are gonna be certain to find them

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, mentions of abortion (it’s a rather calm chapter really. Take it as a pallet cleanser because the next chapter imma really show you how fucked up Jimmy is))

You just couldn’t sleep. It felt criminal to right now. So much was going through your head. So much has happened and now you had time to let it all soak in. The crash, Anya, why there was a crash, Curly’s condition, it made sleep impossible. Especially alone in that big bed that was meant for you and your husband.

You tried to take in deep breaths, and just let the thoughts wash over you. There was responsibility as the Captains Spouse. You weren’t just ‘eye candy’ like Jimmy said. You had worth, and were just as much important to the team as everyone else.

Such as learning a thing or two about what Captain should do in case of an emergency.

Curly was in no state to help, and Jimmy sure as fuck won’t help either. He was the reason everyone crashed after all. He’s a loose cannon and you needed to tip toe around him. Who knows what he might do next. You weren’t even sure if telling Swansea and Daisuke about what’s going on was smart.

Swansea has little girls of his own after all. He won’t react well at all. Then there’s Daisuke. Barely nineteen and thrown into this mess. He might panic or maybe even do something crazy like confront Jimmy. There was just to many what ifs.

So you were left on your own.

You would wrap yourself up in what was once Curly’s sleep robe and grab his spare ID card. The very thing that can unlock any door, and be the one thing that can lock your bedroom door. Definitely should have Anya sleep in here for a while. She deserves to be able to sleep soundly.

While you were waiting for everyone to sleep as well you would explore the bedroom. Looking into nook and cranny to see if there was anything of use. The Captains always were given a bunch of extra shit after all. Even Pony Express had to meet some safety protocols. Curly was their best after all. Even went as far as to try and help him fine work else where. That’s what he explained to you.

Shame. Was just a normal bedroom. The only thing that made it special was it was bigger, and had a lock. Dammit all to hell.

That’s when you tried to think back on past memories of you and your husband. To try and recall any kind of special thing the ships carry. Oh how you felt so guilty for never paying enough attention. Made you feel stupid and useless, but you weren’t.

At least not in comparison to Jimmy.

With a deep breath, you managed to recall something. Something not long before the crash even. You had knocked on the cockpit door to enter it, and was greeted to your husband and Jimmy working. Curly was rambling on about something, while Jimmy kept eyeing the locker suspiciously. As if he wanted to get inside of it for some reason.

That’s your best lead now. God dammit was it a shitty one. The cockpit was stuffed to the brim with foam. But then again that’s the front of the cockpit. If you were careful, and cut the right spot, maybe you can access the locker.

It’s something. Something is better than nothing.

With the robe tossed aside, a change into your jump suit, gloves slipped on, and beanie pulled on to keep your head safe you would make your way to the kitchen. Card key tucked securely inside of your jumpsuit compared to a pocket.

Jimmy can’t know.

Can’t know that you were stealing the only knife that the ship had.

Was going to be a pain in the ass to cut that foam but you really had nothing better to do. So, you unlocked the cock pit and focused on remembering its layout.

“For Anya, for Curly, for Swansea, for Daisuke, and all our families back home.”

You would start the slow and agonizing cutting. Little by little. Just chopping away to try and reach the right side of the pit. To get to that locker and see what was inside. That locker was in the cockpit for a reason. It can only be accessed by the pilots for a reason. There was a reason.

Any time you felt like your arms would give out you thought back to Curly. How he didn’t really have arms anymore to begin with. How Anya was busy throwing up right now. How they needed you. They both needed you.

It had been well over a hour, but you managed to reach the locker. You allowed yourself a breather at the sight of it. Damn was that a pain, but it’ll be worth it. Right?

With your breather over you would use the key card to access the locker. Inside was….Honestly junk. That had you very disappointed. You were honestly ready to cry out of frustration, only to see there were a few locked cabinets inside.

Ones that needed codes.

Codes you knew.

Curly made you memorize them in case of an emergency. He just said to memorize them. That it’s meant to just unlock pin pads. That Pony Express never bothered to change them.

You went to the lower locker and typed it in.

Strange, there was nothing inside. Suppose whatever was inside was taken out. You wondered what could have been in there. Was a very small locker so maybe it was some code scanner or universal unlocking device. Just wasn’t big enough for something you hoped for.

A transmitter.

He prayed it was near the front of the ship. That a transmitter would stuck in the heart of the foam, or as far as just shatter on contact. They had to have a spare communicator. Pony Express had to follow SOME rules after all. Imagine the ship being discovered and the people who found it saw it was missing something as important as that.

So you typed in the code for the larger locker. You were kinda afraid of opening it. To be met with another empty void of metal and dust.

You took a deep breath, and opened.

There really was a god.

There was what you were looking for. A real deal communicator. It was real, it looked untouched and even had dust on it to show that Jimmy never reached it.

Before you grabbed it you made sure to close the door behind you. Just to be sure. Was the dead of night, well from what the clocks say, and everyone should be asleep. Even Jimmy had to sleep. You had to make you move now.

Remain calm, and focus.

You can’t fuck this up.

You snuggled yourself into the corner of the pit, with the communication device in your lap. You hooked the head phones onto your head, and turned it on.

As you waited for it to boot up you made sure you were positioned so that if anyone came through the door, for some reason, you’ll notice. As far as anyone was aware though this room was basically a wall. No purpose to enter. You should be safe, but you had to think ahead. Jimmy was unpredictable, and so full of himself.

Better to be over prepared than see what happens if Jimmy finds out what you are doing.

Couldn’t help but give a squeak of surprise when someone finally spoke to you.

“This is the Emergency Spaceship Retrieval Sector. What seems to be the problem?”

A woman, through the static, spoke to you. Tears of relief fell down your face but you forced yourself to remain focused. You can’t mess this up now. No way no how.

“This is Tulpar for Pony Express. We have suffered a crash about a month ago. From what I can recall we had been a little over four months into our twelve month journey-“ You immediately explained, as to best help them get an estimation on how far the ship had traveled.

“Alright, who may I be speaking to at this moment?”

Deep breaths.

“I am the Spouse to Captain Curly. It is me, Jimmy the co-pilot, Anya the nurse, Swansea the mechanic, and Daisuke our intern.” Deep breaths, keep things quick and to the point.

“Are you all in any immediate danger?”

You had to think about that a moment. Jimmy is a dangerous man. Who knows what he might do next if you don’t play along. So, you had to be honest. You felt guilty for telling the operator what happened. That Curly suffered greatly and needed immediate medical attention, how Anya was a victim of assault and required an abortion as soon as possible, and that the reason for it all was because of Jimmy. He crashed the ship, he raped Anya, he destroyed Curly, and god knows what he will do next.

“Estimated arrival time will be about a month. We have your exact location thanks to the communicator. Remain calm, and know that help is on the way. We have logged this down in the report. Take care of your crew the best you can, Captain.”

And she would log off. You would let your head thump back, and simply cried. Cried in pure relief and joy. That a real person heard you, and was aware of what’s going on. That if anything did go wrong that at least someone knows. Someone will know what happened.

There was hope.

Now was a matter of survival.

One month.

You all needed to survive one month.

One Month Until Rescue…

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@dinkyzoop @danart501 @spudfromspace @niyamamiya

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sme7ktjun · 3 days ago

Photo

COMMA SEPPA

Seperated from plants is not the way to end, a beginning of a new world is first water, and then.

See it as a sea full of seeds, eencellig, censored by plushy scruff and a microdove. The plants said, well yea of course, but you know MTV, got blocked.

Humans rather wanted the beep to be the kaching Ching, which would be better if the planet was algorithmically, seatbelt on there goes another bomb, cathedrals for human beings where plenty is not what you need.

Yin and Yang right? So how does the wheel spin, spines are the bones of your cells that are fragile as ceramic, yet the dog does like to chew on a bone. Is what cartoons made us believe.

Again, did I mention? What did you think?

Tik tok? I didn’t hear. Door knob wrinkle tears.

Is it right to be soludivating to steel, silicone from bones that are away from human ears, cause they would cry for help right? Drinking milk nobody liked, chocomel commercionnel makes you believe in placebo beer, if you would had been with high scaled degrees. Which is?

Huh, I thought y’all did been thought to not drink the beer, I would already mention taurine as stier. Plasma, keep it. LCD screen it. XPC you’ve seen it, where? On your own home tv. But tv is to make you believe that pixels are more advanced than things you can already hear. What you ask is what I’ll respond within the mind starting with. The second thing the musketeer that is already in our atmosphere. As in not here. He said we stand for breaking bonds with entities that would explain us how to believe, their only answer was we come in peace. Yet harvesting the things we even wouldn’t eat, turning it into gold as magic would happen with other beings, also coming from far away but still from here. Earth I mean.

They walk on tears that’s why their footprints are already more than enough to know that they live in harmony with the sounds they hear, but a scope would already made them disappear. Flashing away faster even where the lightning of gunpowder, or is that old skool weapons of western? I thought it was more Nordic, to hunt on teers, what they would hope for and if not would get enough flesh to eat off from a rabbit. Batted, spooky or granite do you really still want to go downhill. Craters are marks of the moon saving us from meteors commits would always miss us but not in a bright way. The gravity was too almighty, yet nobody believes in lightning. They do see Thor “the actor” as a superhuman, Loki was Nike by which I mean the one that would strike it, burn the three and made well I won’t say and y’all still know which one I mean would get the talk with almighty might better not repeat that in this verse before the sun burns. The suns earth well the sun is not choosy when it’s about what might be. Never mind let’s go to the next phase, side part, cops glocks would even evolve into teasers before nun chucks was fighting. By that I mean everybody is king fu fighting, a soccer cross over super hero skills movie that would made us all say, wow, at that time was not aware of the start off the next war. Which I already explained. So Thor would have the hammer where didn’t my hammer was made out of wood Yabi. We shouldn’t argue about what or who’s father would be called by that name. Next part is about what started it all, the thing that is still keeping us apart, humanity I mean. The waiter doesn’t want the accident to occur to make it a PUNKED episode of the Greece well he would aim for that to happen to introduce you as the masculine for the feam anyway let’s go to the part or should we skip the beat.

Well the plant said no comment so let’s end it here. Snow White didn’t shed blood but in the movie she did. So JESUS is not here trapping us from what two destined Lords would end it with a golden hour of video warframe by just hi there we’ve already seen. Time ends the next one doesn’t come and every and each second of the message buzz is you that would be, the prince.

MARKED BY THE LORD IF YOU DON’T THEN BE GONE

Russell Drake, How To Make Electronic Music, 1975

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lady-pug · 2 days ago

Text

The Ballad of Green Snakes and Honey Badgers

Prologue

Summary: When your former friend and current Triwizard champion Aemond Targaryen sends you a note asking you to meet him after years having last spoken to each other, you are left wondering what he could possibly want. So when, to your surprise, he asks you to be his date to the Yule Ball, you make a decision that will either mend your broken friendship with the Slytherin boy or irreparably shatter it forever.

Pairing: Slytherin!Aemond Targaryen x Hufflepuff!Tully!Reader

Word count: 2,1k

Warnings: none

Notes: Hello hello, dearest readers! How have you all been?

I offer you the prologue to a new story I am now incredibly excited to write. The idea for this came from the lovely @peachysunrize, whom I admire very much and love her works (I’ve actually been saving Tangerine Dreams for when I have enough free time to binge read it, ‘cause I know once I start I won’t be able to stop), after Mr. Ewan Mitchell was spotted serving cunt looks at the British GQ’s Men of The Year last night. It was supposed to be a one-shot howeeeeever I ended up getting a little carried away and dicided to go for a slightly longer story (so I’m so so sorry, Aemond actually wearing the infamous outfit at the Yule Ball won’t show up for a few chapters, please forgive me).

Just to explain a few details of this story: Hogwarts is in Westeros, located in the Crownlands near the border between these lands, the Reach, the Riverlands and the Stormlands. Volaena Academy of Magic is situated in Volantis, houses female students from Volantis, Pentos and Lys (equivalent to Beauxbatons) and Green Grass Institute is situated in Braavos, houses male students, mainly Dothraki, from Braavos, Pentos and Tyrosh (equivalent to Durmstrang)

I never thought I’d write a Hogwarts!AU but here we are! Although the HP/WW universe was a very important part of my childhood, I haven’t consumed any content related to it in a very long time (except for random memes on ig I often trade with a friend) because that woman (you know which one) pisses me the fuck off. But since no one will be profiting from me writing this (at least I don’t think so), and I still quite like the universe even if my love for it got diminished somewhat, I decided to give it a try. I won’t lie, I had fun!

I’d just like to warn that the next update for this series will take a little while, as I have quite a lot of work to get done (the semester is ending and Uni is kicking me in the butt once more, what’s new) and I’d like to finish writing a new chapter of Written Between the Lines, the other Aemond series I have on going, first.

Although Reader is a Tully I didn’t write her with a specific appearance in mind, and the same goes for Kermit Tully, so it is up to you to imagine what she looks like. I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it! And thank you so much @peachysunrize for coming up with the idea in the first place! If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

When you woke up on that rainy morning, you had expected it to be just another normal Tuesday, only barely over a week into the school year. The day had started out like any other: you had met with Oscar for breakfast at the Great Hall, being joined shortly after by Kermit and Davos, and avoided at all costs glancing in Cregan’s general direction. Then you had headed for your classes of the day, being paired with Doreah, a lyseni girl from Volaena, for your year-long Herbology project.

While Doreah seemed nice, and you believed you would find a friend in her still, it was moments like this when you found yourself missing Helaena the most. You had promised to write to one another, of course, with you assuring you’d keep her updated in all the latest gossip around Hogwarts, yet it just wasn’t the same. You had become so used to seeing her at the farthest corner of the Ravenclaw table, waiting for you at supper, or sneaking out of the Hufflepuff common room together and into the kitchens to arrange snacks for your late night study sessions that you didn’t realize how much you’d miss this small things until she was actually gone, only just starting her career as a Magientomologist. Still, all you had to do was survive one more year until you could take your N.E.W.T.s and leave this place to search for a career of your own, and perhaps achieve your dream of sharing a flat with your best friend.

It was only after you left your Defense Against the Dark Arts class, having been squished between two quite large dothraki students from Green Grass, that you noticed something was different. A small piece of parchment was sticking out from inside your book, yet you didn’t remember putting it there; while you often used random papers as bookmarkers, it didn’t seem to be the case here, as the pages holding the parchment were ones you did not remember having ever read. As you turned the paper around you realized it was not just some paper, it was in fact a note, and you wondered how someone managed to place it inside your book, as you hadn’t left it unattended at all. But as you read the words, it would soon become clear to you.

Meet me at the library after dinner ~ A. T.

The note carried a neat, flourished handwriting, written in expensive green ink. And yet, as your eyes skimmed over the words once more your heart started beating faster and faster, the flow of blood seemingly thundering on the inside of your eardrums. A. T., the person had signed.

Aemond Targaryen.

What could he possibly want with you? Him, of all people? After all these years? Why did he want to speak to you now? It made sense then, how the note had appeared in your book without you realizing it; Aemond was quite good at Transfiguration, one of the top students even (but was there anything he wasn’t good at?), he excelled in it so for him to conjure a note inside your book was a piece of cake. But that didn’t explain what he wanted.

Sighing, you crumpled the paper in your hand, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pondered upon a decision you were most likely to regret.

There was only one way to find out.

You were quiet during supper, deep in thought as you poked at your food. Kermit and Davos both believed it had to do with the fact that Cregan and Alysanne were sitting right in front of you at the Gryffindor table, choosing then to sit on the bench across the table from you to try and block your view from the happy couple. But only Oscar knew the real reason for your silent demeanor.

Even though Kermit was your twin, you often felt closer to your younger brother, especially after you and Kermit got sorted to different houses on your first year, him being a Gryffindor through and through and you becoming the true embodiment of a Hufflepuff, and Oscar being selected for the same house as yours a year later. In truth, Oscar just understood you better and the other way around was also true, so you ended up becoming one another's confidants, telling each other everything and anything. So once you got back to the common room you had immediately spilled the beans about the mysterious note you had received.

He had begged you not to go. He just knew that whatever Aemond wanted couldn’t possibly be good. Not after everything. But you were curious, and although he would never admit to it, his curiosity on the back burner in face of his concern for you, so was he. So he agreed to your plan of simply listening to what Aemond had to say and leaving.

Or that would have been the plan, had what Aemond asked not left you completely flabbergasted.

Arriving at the library, now almost completely void of students, save for one or two first year nerds, you noticed Aemond was already there, punctual as ever.

“You came.” he seemed surprised as he raised from his chair, the book he had been absentmindedly flipping through forgotten over the hardwood table.

You shrugged, not willing to let him see how affected you were by his presence.

“Let’s hear it then.” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to appear more confident than you felt.

“What?”

“You called me here for a reason, right? What do you want?”

“Can I not just wish to see an old friend?” it was his turn to shrug.

You scoffed, gritting your teeth as you glanced away from him. Old friend my ass, you thought. You weren’t friends. Not anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.

“Right.” he must have noticed something in your expression, for he dropped the innocent act “I need your help.”

What could he possibly need your help with?

“Be my date for the Yule Ball.”

What?

“What, why?” you were honestly dumbfounded by his suggestion, because that was what it was; it wasn’t a question, it was closer to a demand. And how dare he demand something from you?

“It is mandatory for the champions to dance at the Ball. And for that they need a partner.”

That’s right, Aemond had been selected as the champion to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament against Green Grass and Volaena. The professors had explained what that entailed, and how dangerous it could be, and for a fleeting moment, your heart twinged in worry over him, before it was snuffed out and replaced by the usual cold indifference you felt towards him. Furthermore, they had let all students know that a special ball would be held at Christmas, and that all three champions were required not only to attend but to dance as well.

“I know that.” you huffed, feeling a little offended “I mean why me?”

His stare turned quizzical, as if he couldn’t quite possibly understand what you were implying.

“Why not take your girlfriend?” you asked, confused “I mean, she may have graduated already, but professor Mellos said we could bring dates from outside the school.”

He glanced away from you, his expression turning dark for a split second, before returning his gaze to you.

“Alys and I broke up over summer.” he said with a nonchalance you suspected to be fake.

You wanted to ask, you were desperate to know why, but you had to remind yourself it was none of your business. His life was none of your business and it was better that way.

“Why not some other girl then? They seem to line up for your attention nowadays. Floris has always had a thing for you.”

Aemond was already considered a pretty boy even for normal standards, always having one admirer or another. It lessened a bit after he started dating Alys, a sixth year student, in his fourth year in school, but you knew for a fact people still pinned after him in silence. But after he was named Hogwarts’ triwizard champion, a lot of girls and even some guys flocked around him, vying for his undivided attention. You knew most of them would die for a chance to be his date at the Ball, to be his even if only for one night.

“It would give them the false hope that something more could happen when it won’t.” he tipped his chin, staring at you from under his lashes, and something in the way he was looking at you was deeply unsettling “At least we know where we stand with one another.”

Ouch.

“Why would I ever agree to go with you?”

“Well you certainly aren’t going with Stark, that’s for sure.” the corner of his lip twitch in the tiniest of smirks.

A pang of shame assaulted your heart, heat spreading in your chest and settling in your cheeks.

“How do you know about that?” your voice faltered, small and almost afraid.

His face fell, then, as if he didn’t expect this reaction from you.

“Everyone knows about it.”

Humiliation burned in your chest, the sting of tears steadily brimming in your eyes forcing you to glance away from him to stop yourself from breaking down in front of him. Great, now the whole school (and perhaps even the other two guest schools) knew how your boyfriend of four, almost five years had dumped you and practically immediately after started dating your cooler, prettier, hotter cousin. He couldn’t even be bothered to show his face, he had broken up with you through a letter, a majestic white owl bringing the news one summer morning.

“No.” you sniffled, daring yourself not to cry, and turning away from him, ready to leave and forget this conversation ever happened.

“Wait!” he grabbed your arm, halting your movements. His face was soft when you glanced back at him, something akin to guilt clouding his own features “Please. Just- please.”

That was new. For as long as you had known him, you knew one thing was certain: Aemond Targaryen didn’t beg. For him to stoop this low, at least for his standards, must mean he was indeed desperate.

“What’s in it for me?” you asked in turn.

He pondered for a moment, a surprised look on his face, as if he didn’t expect to get this far into the conversation.

“You’ll get to make Stark jealous?” he offered, and you chuckled mirthlessly in response.

“I don’t want to make him jealous.” and you couldn’t even if you tried, not in comparison to Alysanne of all people “I just want to move on from him.”

“Then you’ll get to show him just that. That you have moved on from him and are already seeing new people.”

His reasoning made sense and you were intrigued, sure, especially considering you weren’t totally over Cregan just yet. But it definitely wasn’t worth the hassle.

“And I’ll help you study for your History of Magic N.E.W.T!” he was quick to add.

Now that was a really tempting offer. History of Magic was one of the subjects you struggled with the most, having a really hard time memorizing all the dates and events, ever since your very first year. And you knew he was well versed in history; he studied the subject even when not required, just for fun. To have someone like him help you study would definitely help you not fail the test.

“Okay.” you sighed out between, biting your tongue “I’ll be your date to the Yule Ball.”

His face lit up then, almost bouncing in his heels from excitement, before feigning indifference.

“Good.” he nodded to himself “We’ll have to spend more time together until then.”

“I didn’t agree to that!” you squealed, the thought of spending any more time than necessary with him making you uneasy.

“We need to be convincing. Otherwise Stark will see right through it.”

He was right. Of course he was right.

“Fine then. When do we start?”

He smiled brightly then, and for a moment you saw that young boy he once was, the one who held your hand on the first train ride to school all those years ago.

“I’ll find you for breakfast tomorrow then and we can go to Potions together. After lunch we can start revising History. How does that sound?”

It could be worse.

“Alright by me, I guess.”

Aemond grinned cheekily, and you knew then that you were screwed.

“It’s a date then.” he sauntered away, but not before throwing you a quick wink to match his smirk.

Oscar was going to kill you.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen fic #slytherin!aemond targaryen x hufflepuff!reader #aemond targaryen x tully!reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hogwarts au

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anonymousewrites · 3 days ago

Text

Apple of My Eye Chapter Four

Eventual! Harry Hook x Child of Snow White! Reader

Platonic! Descendants x Reader

Chapter Four: Out There

Summary: Family Day goes extraordinarily wrong.

“I’m guessing you got Mal ready for her date with Ben?” said (Y/N) as they sprawled across Evie’s bed.

“I picked out her outfit, did her makeup, reminded her that him being nice isn’t disrespectful like on the Isle, and tried to remind her to have a good time,” said Evie.

“A whole bootcamp,” chuckled (Y/N). “I did the same for Ben. Sure, he and Audrey were…something, but it was mostly Audrey dragging him around at organized events. This was the first time he actually asked someone out. He’s nervous.” They looked at Evie as she sewed. “What about Mal?”

“Mal doesn’t get nervous. But this isn’t something she’s used to. It’s not like her mom told her how to date,” said Evie. “My mom was the only one really interested in having her child learn about that. The others…it wasn’t encouraged.”

“Is that why you’re trying to find a prince?” asked (Y/N).

“I’m the daughter of a queen. My mom has high standards for me and whoever I date,” said Evie.

“You should be able to fall in love with whoever you want,” said (Y/N).

Evie smiled slightly. “It would be nice to fall in love and just…be.”

(Y/N) grinned. “It sounds like you’re thinking of someone?”

Evie’s eyes widened, she blushed, and she chuckled nervously. “I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” said (Y/N). “He likes you, too.” They didn’t have to say Doug’s name for Evie to know. “He was going on and on about how well you’re doing in chemistry today at lunch.”

“He told you about that?” said Evie, smiling.

“He’s always talking about you,” said (Y/N). “Always, ‘did you see Evie’s outfit today? She looks amazing. And she’s so smart, and she explained how she made her jewelry, and she’s so creative.’ ”

“He thinks all that about me,” said Evie softly.

“He thinks the world of you,” said (Y/N). “You shouldn’t hold yourself back from that if you like him.”

Evie smiled, and then her smile fell. Soon…soon this would all be over. The villains would be freed and overrun Auradon. It wouldn’t matter what her feelings towards Doug or anyone else at Auradon were.

“I’ll think about it,” said Evie. She cleared her throat and smiled at (Y/N). “And you’re still certain no one here interests you? I think I’ve seen a few different people looking at you. Merida’s daughter is pretty dashing, and Esmeralda’s child is very good-looking.” Evie grinned. “And I saw you watching them dance. You like someone with some sway.” Evie got up and pretended to dance with a wink.

(Y/N) laughed and sat up. “I find them attractive, sure. Who wouldn’t love those green eyes and hips? But I don’t feel…”

“The spark of True Love?” said Evie.

“That,” agreed (Y/N).

“Do you get worried you won’t find it?” said Evie.

“Sometimes,” admitted (Y/N). “But it would be a disservice to myself to settle for less than what I want.” And (Y/N) wasn’t just saying that about themself.

Evie smiled. “I hope you find who you’re looking for.”

“I hope you do, too,” said (Y/N). “And until then, we’ve got good friends, right?”

“Right.” Evie grinned.

“Oh, by the way,” said (Y/N), leaning in. “Speaking of good friends, would you do me a favor as one?”

“What is it?” said Evie.

“Would you design an outfit for me? For the coronation?” said (Y/N). They smiled. “I love your designs, so it would be really cool if you would make me one. Even just a sketch.”

They could have sworn Evie’s eyes lit up. “I have been waiting for this moment.”

“Is that a yes?” said (Y/N).

Evie grabbed (Y/N) and pulled them to their feet. She already had a measuring tape in her hands. “I have free reign?”

“I’m scared and excited by this intensity,” said (Y/N).

Evie gave them a positively evil grin. Royalty to dress up? Her friend to dress up? She was going to have a field day.

“(Y/N), your mother might be the fairest of them all, but we’re about to give these royals their first taste of real style,” said Evie.

(Y/N) grinned.

“As you know, this Sunday is Family Day at Auradon Prep,” said Fairy Godmother, smiling at her Remedial Goodness 101 class. “And because your parents can’t be here due to…distance—” she laughed awkwardly “—we’ve arranged for a special treat.” She turned on a computer, and the screen displayed four familiar, infamous villains.

Their kids straightened and paled. This would be a…very special treat.

“Do you think Family Day is going to go well?” said Ben.

“We do the same things every year other than changing the song-and-dance routine,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “So, yes. You shouldn’t be worrying about this of all things.”

Ben cleared his throat. “But things are…different this year. I’m with Mal, now, and I want her to meet my parents.”

“That’s a big step,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “You really like her.”

Ben’s smile softened shyly. “I do.”

“I’m happy for you,” said (Y/N).

“Do you think my parents will like her?” said Ben. “I know they were hesitant about the program, but Mal and her friends are really great.”

“Your parents learned to see past prejudice, so they should come around,” said (Y/N). They paused. “Eventually.”

Ben sighed. “I just want this to go well.”

“I’ll be there to help,” promised (Y/N). “My mom and dad know I’m part of the organizing committee, so if you need to call me away for some help, it’s fine.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” said Ben.

“Anytime, my prince,” teased (Y/N).

Ben groaned at the title, and (Y/N) laughed.

One disastrous videocall later, all thoughts of happiness over being at Auradon had flitted from the VKs’ minds. They knew what they had to do the day of the coronation. They knew what would happen to them if they didn’t pull it off. They knew the consequences for everyone if they did.

“Okay, we all know what it looks like,” said Mal. “So, we’ll be up on the dais under Beast’s spell jar, and we’re coming in from here. I will be in the very front. You all will be up on the balcony.”

“Okay,” said Evie.

“Carlos?” said Mal.

“Okay, so I’ll find our limo, so we can break the barrier and get back on the Isle with the wand,” said Carlos.

“Perfect,” said Mal. “Evie?”

“Yeah?” said Evie.

“You will use this to take out the driver.” Mal held up a perfume bottle. “Two sprays, and he’ll be out like a light.”

“Okay.” Evie nodded solemnly.

Carlos and Jay nodded. Mal looked at each of them and nodded. The plan was set. They just needed to follow it through. However, Mal found herself slouching down in her seat as she gazed at the potion she wanted to make.

Evie’s eyes widened as she saw the page. “M?” She furrowed her brow. “You want to break Ben’s love spell?”

“Yeah.” Mal cleared her throat and tried to defend herself without letting her true feelings shine through. “You know, for after. I don’t…” Evie sat down next to her, and Mal swallowed. “I’ve just been thinking, you know, when the villains finally do invade Auradon and begin to loot and kick everyone out of their castles and imprison their leaders and destroy all that is good and beautiful…” Mal pursed her lips. “Ben still being in love with me just seems a little extra…cruel.”

Evie’s gaze softened. Mal cared, truly, about Ben. Evie understood. They had all made friends and bonds here at Auradon, and those would all be burned away when their parents came and took over Auradon.

“I’ve been thinking about that, too,” said Evie. “My mother…she’s going to kill Snow White this time. She’s going to make sure of it. She’ll have her revenge and be the fairest in the land again.” Evie paused. “And I don’t know what she’ll do to (Y/N) just for being Snow White’s child.” She looked at Mal. “They’re…kind. I don’t want them to—” She looked down. Her friend was going to be hurt because they were kind like their mother.

“I know,” said Mal. “I know, E.”

(Y/N) stood behind Ben in blue slacks and a white blouse with yellow bows as Family Day began. He stepped into the small group of students performing and put on a charming smile.

(Ben) “Ma chere Mademoiselle, It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure, That we welcome you tonight, And now we invite you to relax, Let us pull up a chair, As the dining room proudly presents, Your dinner.”

He bowed, and the group began to dance.

(All) “Be our guest, be our guest, Put our service to the test, Tie your napkin ‘round your neck, Cherie, And we’ll provide the rest.” (Ben) “That’s right.” (All) “Soup du jour, Hot hors d’oeuvres, Why we only live to serve, Try the gray stuff, it’s delicious.” (Ben) “Don’t believe me? Ask the dishes.”

He grinned, and (Y/N) and a few men moved up to dance with him.

(All) “They can sing, sing, sing, They can dance, dance, dance, After all, miss, this is France, And the dinner here is never, never second best! Come on, go on, unfold your menu, Go on, take a glance, and then you’ll Be our guest, be our guest, be our guest. Yeah, be our guest.”

Everyone came together and weaved in and out of lines.

(Ben) “We tell jokes, I do tricks, With my fellow candlesticks.” (All) “And it’s all in perfect taste, That you can bet. Come on and lift your glass, You’ve won your own free pass, To be our guest.” ((Y/N)) “If you’re stressed, It’s fine dining we suggest.” (All) “Be our guest, be our guest, be our guest. Yeah, yeah! Come on, be our guest, be our guest, Come on, come on, Be our guest!”

They finished with a flourish and a bow. They were met with cheers and claps, and so the group bowed again.

(Y/N) spotted their friends, smiled, and walked over. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed that,” said Mal. “It’s cheesier than the snacks.”

(Y/N) laughed sheepishly. “You should’ve seen a few years ago. It was a rendition of ‘Heigh-Ho.’ That was a trainwreck.” They glanced at their phone. “My parents are arriving soon, so I’m going to say ‘hi’ to them, but if you need me, just come and find me. My parents and I won’t mind.” They waved. “Bye.”

“(Y/N).” Snow hugged their child tightly, and Florian joined the hug a moment after her. “Oh, it’s been too long.”

(Y/N) laughed. “I saw you just two weeks ago,” they said.

“Still too long,” said Florian, smiling. “Tell us about everything.”

“We’ve heard about Prince Ben’s new program. Is it going well?” said Snow.

“I think it is,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Ben’s fighting to do what’s right, and I think it’s going to pay off.”

“That’s wonderful,” said Florian. “Who are the four students? You haven’t told us anything.”

“We have Jay, son of Jafar. He’s really strong and a great leader at sports. Then there’s Carlos, son of Cruella. He’s a real sweetheart with a big heart,” said (Y/N).

“I like the sound of them,” said Snow.

“And then there’s Mal, daughter of Maleficent,” said (Y/N). “A little rougher around the edges, but she’s really funny and cares about her friends. I admire her strength.” They paused and glanced between their parents. “And last we have Evie, the best fashion designer I’ve met and a girl with the strongest, sweetest heart. She’s basically my best friend. She’s the daughter of…the Evil Queen.”

Florian stiffened slightly, and Snow paused. (Y/N) bit their lip.

“Mom?” they said.

“It’s…unexpected,” said Snow. “I can’t say it doesn’t make me nervous to know that someone raised by my stepmother in a place with very few good influences is near you.” She smiled. “But if you believe they have good hearts, then I’ll believe it.”

(Y/N) relaxed. “They really are great people. I think it’s taking time for some people to see it, but—”

“You!” A frightened, furious voice pierced the air.

All heads turned to the croquet field. Queen Leah, mother of Aurora—Sleeping Beauty—stood staring at Mal, who took a step back at her cry.

“How are you here?” demanded Leah. “And how have you stayed so young?”

(Y/N) moved to the field before their parents could even say a word, and everyone watched as they stepped between Leah and Mal.

“Queen Leah, it’s alright,” said (Y/N). “This isn’t Maleficent. She’s still on the Isle.”

Ben stepped up beside them and smiled. “This is her daughter, Mal. Don’t you remember my proclamation to give the new generation a chance?”

“A chance to what, Ben?” said Leah sharply. “Destroy us?” She looked around at everyone. “Come on, you remember, don’t you?” She looked at Snow and Florian and then at (Y/N). “The poison apples?”

Evie’s eyes went to the ground, and (Y/N) tried to catch her gaze and shake their head, to remind Evie it was alright, but Leah was still speaking, still hurting, still turning people’s heads away from the kids who deserved a chance.

“And the spells,” said Leah. “Spells. My daughter was raised by fairies because of your mother’s curse.” Mal flinched. “So her first words, her first steps, I missed it all. You mustn’t trust her.”

“Queen Leah, your daughter was cruelly punished for a simple mistake,” said (Y/N) softly. “But it would be unfair to Mal to punish her for what her mother did. We can’t change if we continue the same cycle of hurting people.”

The VKs’ lips parted at (Y/N)’s words, and their eyes went to the ground. All this hurt, and they were going to—

“I’m sorry,” said Mal, stepping forward.

Chad moved in and pushed Mal back. (Y/N) instantly took a step forward, and Chad stepped back slightly.

Still, he glared at Mal. “Stay away from them.”

“Don’t do this, Chad,” said (Y/N).

“What?” Chad scoffed incredulously. “They were raised by their parents, (Y/N). What do you think villains teach their kids, huh? Kindness? Fair-play? No way, okay? Nuh-uh.” He looked at Mal. “You stole another girl’s boyfriend.” Ben almost lunged, but Chad just held up his hands. “Hey, hey!” He looked at Jay. “You enjoy hurting people.” He looked at Evie. “And you’re nothing but a gold digger and a cheater.”

“Chad!” said (Y/N), raising their voice. “You do not speak to my friends that way.”

“Friends? You think they’re your friends?” Chad stepped forward. “You’re just the idiot idealist who is playing pretend that villains could ever become good. Wake up. You’re going to be the first in line to get hurt, playing ‘besties’ with the Evil Queen’s daughter. Let’s just hope you don’t take a bit of any food she gives you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened at the accusation, and Evie’s hands quivered. She pulled her mirror from her bag.

“Mirror, mirror, in my hand, who’s the biggest jerk in the land?” She sneered and held it up to display Chad’s face.

He scoffed and batted her hand away. “Come on.”

“Hey!” Jay grabbed Chad for putting his hands on Evie. “Back off, Chad!”

“Alright, hey!” Doug nervously tried to intervene.

“Just back off!” said Jay.

Evie dug a perfume bottle out of her bag and pushed into Chad’s face. She pulled the pump twice, and a mist fell into Chad’s face. Instantly, he collapsed.

“Chad? Chad?!” Audrey gasped as Doug caught him.

Horrified gasps and cries went up in the crowd at the sight.

“Evie did something to Chad!” cried Lonnie.

“Come on, Mal,” said Evie, grabbing Mal’s hand as everyone stared at them like they were a freakshow.

“Chad, wake up!” cried Audrey.

The VKs ran from the party. Ben and (Y/N) were left to stare helplessly at one another. Ben’s gaze went to his parents and then to the floor upon seeing their disappointment. (Y/N) turned and ran after their friends.

“Guys,” said (Y/N), catching up to them. “Are you…” They trailed off. Of course they weren’t alright. “Can I help at all?”

“We don’t need your pity,” said Mal.

“Mal, I’m not trying to pity you, I want to help,” said (Y/N). “What Chad said was unfair, and your reactions were provoked. That wasn’t your fault.”

The other VKs just looked away from them.

“Yeah, well, it felt pretty good anyways,” said Mal coldly. “Just leave us alone, royal. It’ll be better for all of us.”

(Y/N)’s heart ached, and they looked at the others. Jay crossed his arms. Carlos looked down. Their gaze landed on Evie. “Evie?”

“Just go,” said Evie softly.

“…Alright.” (Y/N) stepped back and turned away. “I’m sorry.”

Taglist:

@neenieweenie

@hampterfae

@american-idiot-jpg

@lunalixya

@roo024

@unholycheesesnack

@paastaboi

@lbee13

@rory-cakes

@theeghosted

#apple of my eye #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #child of snow white #evie descendants #carlos descendants #descendants #disney descendants #descendants 1 #descendants x reader #descendants harry #harry hook #harry hook x reader

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froppy-butterflyfan2000 · 6 hours ago

Text

Hiraya produced one energy sphere then another at ease. There is a smug written in her face. Janaya rolled his eyes towards Hiraya’s boasting attitude. Hiraya and Janaya are taught how to use energy magic by their father in the magic training room of their family home. Janaya is having trouble in making an energy ball.

“You’ll get it. You just need to try harder.” Said Kyle.

Janaya scowled and side eyes at Hiraya. “I am trying. I’m trying harder than anyone else. Do you know how humiliating it is to struggle with something everyone else can just do?”

“You are not, concentrate son.” Said Kyle, ignoring Janaya’s feelings. Janaya frowned. He saw how Nebula demonstrate herself in creating an energy ball (only because she has the power of the Royal Wand) and she did give tips to him. It is always concentration!

Janaya gritting his teeth out of anger. A burning rage inside in belly. He gather all the energy from his surrounding and the mana in his body as much he could. Especially his own anger, converting it into Noir Fuel Spirt. He finally made a energy ball. It is a blue colour that look exactly like a kill ball. Janaya lashes out, throwing it to the wall, sending it flying and disintegrating and splitting the target. Hiraya flinch, seeing another one of her brother’s angry outbursts. Next thing Hiraya and Kyle knew, they watch Janaya fall down to the floor. All Janaya know after he fell, are the the black dots form in his vision and soon he passed out.

“Janaya!” Said Kyle, letting out a gasp. He picks up his son and makes attempts to wake him up. He checks for concussion as well. Kyle realize that his son is not waking up as he check his pulse, still alive but slow due to exhaustion.

Janaya lifts himself up from bed, he rubs his eyes in circle motions. He realizes he is in his room. Janaya see his mother, sitting on a chair, next to her son lying in bed.

“Mom?” Janaya asked. “What happened?” He said confused.

“Your dad says you have a hissy fit during magic practice again.” Janna explained. Janaya nodded.

“Did I unintentionally started a fire again?” He asked another question.

“No.” Janna replied with an answer, relieving Janaya of his anguished thoughts. He did not start fire, that means he is making good progress with his magic.

“After what happened, we can deny it no longer. Me and your father decided that he won’t be your instructor in energy magic. Since you are magically disable in this attribute.” Said Janna.

“But… I wants to be a master wizard likes dad…” he said, looking at his mom in pleading eyes and fear that he disappoints his dad.

Janna felt sympathetic towards her son. “You will be just like him Janaya, just not wielding energy magic.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

That was a back then when he was a child, Janaya watch from afar to see Second Summer Campers casting spells in The Arena of Camp Synonymous Island. In his time in Townsville, as a part of his magic journey, he had met many magic users. Some are super heroes. Some as civilians. Some as superheroes. He has seen some who have potential to be master wizards. A few who would become Sorcerer Supreme in Eugenia’s eyes.

“You okay Jan?”, Ethan asked.

“I confirm that I am fine with my emotions,” Janaya replied, maintaining his pace and volume and express openness and gratitude to not get caught up on something that bother him. “I appreciate you asking; thank you.”

Janaya out on a half smile, Ethan respond in silence, looking at Janaya’s half smile.

“Trying to get the cat to catch my tongue?” Said Ethan. “Nice try. I know that you are staring at the campers from afar. They won’t be catching up to us anytime soon. Our time right now is young. Don’t be so negative and hard on yourself.”

“……I don’t know what you are talking about.” Janaya lied.

Ethan Corduroy and Nebula Butterfly-Lucitor (mentioned) belong to @ej-cappy-universe

Eugenia Maximoff (mentioned), Hiraya B.C. Bloodworth-Thomason and Janaya A. Bloodworth-Thomason belong to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me)

"You'll get it. You just need to try harder."

"I am trying. I'm trying harder than anyone. Do you know how humiliating it is to struggle with something everyone else can just do?"

#Janaya A. Bloodworth-Thomason #cappyverse #Hiraya B.C. Bloodworth-Thomason #cappyverse oc #Ethan Corduroy

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evervigilantnightshade · 3 days ago

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The Line - Part 4

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings for series: Angst, violence towards reader, reader attacked by men, a pup gets hurt (but don't worry he's ok) Blood, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions, Father of reader's death mentioned.

Authors note: Price is mean in this one so apologies in advance. Also soft Konig is my favorite.

MASTERLIST

Y/N woke up the next morning, her head pounding. She barely slept because she kept wanting to go to Price’s room and just explain herself. She wanted to tell him everything. Including how she felt about him. But then she thought about what Simon said and he was right. They couldn’t be sure no one was listening to them.

After showering and packing up her things Y/N headed downstairs and dropped her bag at the bottom of the stairs. She grabbed Simon’s pack and made her way to the kitchen, slightly limping. When she saw he was the only one up she was relieved.

“You got any more painkillers in here?” She asked dropping his bag at his side.

“Your leg hurtin ya?” He asked, rummaging in his bag.

“Leg, head, heart.” She replied while she made herself a coffee.

“Well this will help your head and your leg, and as much as I’d like to help your heart I can’t. Yet.”

“It’s ok.” Y/N said, swallowing the pills down.

She stretched her leg out in front of her and hissed.

“We should rebandage that, while no one else is around.” he said and grabbed his kit out of his bag.

“Right here?” Y/N asked, glancing around.

“No one else is up, it’s just you an me. What are ya worried about anyways? Someone seeing your arse.’”

Y/N glared at him and stood up, undoing her pants. She had them about half way down when Soap walked into the kitchen.

“Whoa. Sorra.” He said turning around instantly.

“Oh for fuck sakes get in here you idiot.” Y/N said and then sat down on the chair in front of Simon.

Soap walked by them and he glanced over as Simon took off the bandage around the wound.

“Jesus lass, ye git tha’ last night?”

“Yeah, that patrol. It’s nothing.”

Simon was inspecting the wound. He frowned and then pressed the edge of it.

“What the fuck Si.” Y/N said, gripping her leg above the wound.

“It’s lookin a little red around the edges. I’m going to give you a shot of penicillin.”

“Ye git a whole drugstore in there ol man?” Soap grinned

“Been caught out one too many times. Now I’m always prepared.” Simon grunted as he filled the syringe.

He was just plunging the needle into Y/N’s thigh when Price and Gaz walked in.

“What the hell happened.” Price asked

He was looking at her with concern and for a moment she thought he might actually still care about her.

“Happened last night, just a scratch. She’ll be fine.” Simon answered

Y/N was watching him closely and his face went from concern to anger.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t tell me Sergeant.”

Y/N felt her heart break. She looked at Simon who gave her leg a small squeeze of encouragement. She straightened her back and looked at Price.

“Apologies Captain, I won't let it happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t.”

“Cap,” Soap started but Price turned and left the room.

“Y/N, he’ll come around, just give ‘em time.” Gaz said and Soap gave her an encouraging smile.

“Just hurry up will you. We have a plane to catch.”

The flight to Germany was quiet. Soaps contact had gotten them a private jet which shocked the team. Gaz kept taking selfies of himself drinking champagne and talking about how one day he’d have a plane like this. Everyone could tell she wanted to be left alone so Y/N sat in the back staring out the window.

It was a short flight, and when they landed there was a blacked out SUV waiting for them. A woman got out and told Simon that Konig was waiting for them at the safe house and gave them the keys. The drive took about an hour and the air was tense. Eventually they arrived at a house in seemingly the middle of nowhere, forest surrounding them.

Konig was waiting at the front door to greet the team. He was so big he took up the whole door frame and was wearing his signature black mask that covered his entire face except his eyes. As they exited the car Konig spread his arms out and motioned around them.

“Zis is good, nein?”

Y/N chuckled as her and Simon made their way over to him.

“You never disappoint.” She said to him and he winked at her.

“If only you knew liebling (darling).”

When she reached him he pulled into a massive bone breaking hug, lifting her off her feet and then placing her back down.

“Ven are you going to leave zis tiny man for me?”

“Don’t push it Konig.” Simon grunted beside them.

“Nein, nein I joke.” He said but then looked over at Y/N and shook his head and whispered. “I don’t joke.”

“Konig as much as I adore you, I have a team that I’m not willing to leave, Ghost included.”

“Ja but I can offer you freedom to kill vo you vant. Tempting nein?”

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

“Alright you maniac, let’s get you introduced to the team.”

They walked over to where Soap, Gaz and Price were standing. Y/N motioned at Simon to make the introductions. They all shook his hand and though the team seemed a bit taken back by Konig they were all polite and respectful. When they were done with the introductions Konig clapped his hands together.

“Ok time to drink.” He started heading for the house.

Simon followed and Y/N stood back. Gaz walked up to her with concern on his face.

“Do we really have to start drinking? It’s like two in the afternoon!”

Y/N patted him on the back and smiled.

“Just pace yourself.” He started to walk towards the house but Y/N grabbed his arm “Don’t drink any Jagger until after dinner.” He nodded and turned again but she grabbed his arm “Or Asbach. Or really anything you can’t pronounce.”

“Y/N…” Gaz said, looking at her and shaking his head.

“You’ll be fine.” She said her voice was a bit higher than usual.

“Oh god.” He mumbled as he made his way towards the house.

Soap had been watching the interaction with amusement but then looked over at Y/N and Price realizing it was just the three of them left. He felt the tension and called out to Gaz to wait up.

They stood there for a minute and then Y/N turned to speak to him but he just walked past her without saying a word. She rubbed her hands over her face and held back her tears, then took a deep breath to gather herself before making her way into the house.

Several hours later and the team was well past drunk with the exception of Y/N. She had been nursing her one and only beer for hours and everyone else was too drunk to notice. So slowly picked at the label as she was lost in her thoughts, no longer listening to the conversations around her.

Gaz and Ghost were signing Come on Eileen and butchering the lyrics while Konig and Soap were attempting to speak to each other but their respective accents were so thick they were going nowhere.

And then there was Price, the one member of the team that always remains mostly sober was now way past tipsy. He had his arms crossed and was leaning back in his chair, eyes on Y/N. She felt it and looked up to see him glaring at her and that pushed her over the edge.

“I’m going to bed” she mumbled and got up from the table despite the many protests for her to stay.

She had made it down the hall to her room and was about to close the door when a hand reached over and pushed it open. Y/N, knowing who it was, just turned and walked over to her bag, allowing Price into her room.

“Listen John, you’re drunk and angry. This isn’t the time to do this.”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” He said angrily and Y/N rubbed her temples

“Fine Captain, Price, Sir.. whatever you want me to call you. It’s not a good time.”

“I think it’s the perfect time. You said I’m angry, damn right I am. You lied to me, kept things for me and played games with me. Thank god it was only about sex or I would be even madder than I am now.”

“Just about sex?” Y/N asked her back still to Price.

“Yeah, no feelings right? That’s how you do things? At least that’s what you told Gaz. I assume now it’s because of Ghost.”

“You don’t know the situation John. I’m not what you think I am.”

“I told you not to call me that. And you’re exactly what I think you are.”

“And what’s that? A whore? A homewrecker?” She was starting to get mad

“If the shoe fits.” He huffed, glaring at her with hate in his eyes. “Brings up a good question actually, does he know? I mean I know he doesn’t mind you flirting you do it all the time, even with the crazy German down there. But thinking back, the times you got real dirty it was just you and me. So does he know? Or is this like a deal you two have? I mean personally I think it’s fucked up but seeing you now for what you really are I can see you’re morals are non existent and you have absolutely no loyalty to anyone.”

“Get out.” Y/N said a single tear running down her face. “Just get the fuck out.”

John turned towards the door and then stopped.

“I want you off the team. Now that I know the only reason you’re here is because Ghost pulled some strings to get you on the team I have no use for you. I should’ve known. I hand picked every member of this team but then Kate hands me a file that had next to no info and insisted you be on the team. So what was it? Did he refuse to join unless we brought you on? Doesn’t matter anyways. I don’t want you anymore and if I lose him in the process so be it. I only want soldiers that deserve to be here, that get in on merit and not their ability to ride a cock. As soon as Bako is dealt with you’re gone.”

With that he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Y/N’s legs gave out from under her and she collapsed as a scream formed in her chest. She lost it. Letting herself completely meltdown. She sat like that for a few moments before big strong hands picked her up and she buried her face into Konig’s chest.

“I’ve got vu liebling. Let it vout.” He cooed as he cradled her in his arms.

Her body shook as she sobbed for a long time. Konig said nothing, just holding her and rubbing his hand up and down her back.

When her sobs subsided, he picked her up and moved her to the bed. She laid down and curled herself into the fetal position.

“Do you vant me to leave?” Konig asked softly and she shook her head no. He climbed into the bed next to her and spooned her.

“Do you vant to talk about it?”

Y/N shook her head no again so they laid there for about an hour as tears streamed down her face silently. A million thoughts ran through her mind and John's words cut through her over and over. Eventually she turned over so she was face to face with him.

“You serious about wanting me to join Kortac?”

“You know I voud take you in ein heartbeat. Are you zure that you’d vant to join us though? It’s pretty different from vhat you’re doing now. Sometimes ve’re not zee good guys.”

“I know.” Y/N acknowledged

“And vat about Ghost? You vould just leave him? You two have been together for years.”

“Maybe it’s time we work apart.”

“Listen, I heard vat your Captain zaid to you at zee end. That vasn’t fair. You're ein impressive soldier and if vu go on the market, Kortac von’t be zee only ones vanting you. Your reputation alone is formidable.”

“Yeah well you’d be high on my list.”

“Danke. Vu should know though, Keegan joined us not too long ago. Vould zat be an issue?”

“Nah, we fought each other, he shot me, I shot him, we worked out our issues and we’re good now . Plus that was a long time ago.”

Konig nodded and then yawned.

“I can’t believe you’re still awake, you drank more than the rest of the team.”

“Light Veights.” He said Y/N smiled.

“Alright you go to bed, I have some things to think about.”

“Vu sure vu don’t vant me to spend zee night?” He asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Yeah that would be perfect! And then in the morning John will see you walk out of the room and he’ll call me a whore again.” Y/N said sarcastically.

“I vould crush his tiny head. Almost did earlier, came to vu instead.” He said sleepily

“Thank you.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead through his mask. “Now go, before you fall asleep.”

“Ok but vu come to me if vu need ja?”

“Ja” Y/N replied as he got up and left the room.

After he left the room Y/N reached for her phone. She put in the number, her finger then hovered over the call button. If she did this, it was real. She was admitting defeat.

“You’re already defeated.” She thought to herself and hit the button.

It didn’t ring for long before the call connected.

#john price x y/n #captain john price angst #captain john price #captain john price x reader #cod #john price #captain price x reader angst #john price angst #task force 141

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patolemus · 10 hours ago

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Wip Thursday

Got tagged by @gege-wondering-around and @dontcallpanic so here you have another snippet for my demon!stiles au!

“So. I know what this thing is,” because there comes a point where your only option is ripping off the bandaid, and also, Stiles has exhausted all his other resources. “The good news is I know how to get rid of it.”

“And the bad news?” Derek already sounds like he doesn’t want to know the answer. Stiles would feel guilty, he really would. Only, Derek brought this on himself, really, letting Stiles into the pack all those years ago. He should just accept that Stiles will do his thing and rest easy.

“Uuuh… I’m going to have to talk to my Father and that always sucks,” and he’d been doing so well, too, dodging his messengers and little notice-me calls. The fire had been a little too on point, though.

“The Sheriff? What for?” Scott tilts his head in that way that makes him look exactly like a puppy. Stiles has a sudden urge to squeeze him until he bursts.

Heh, good old cute rage.

“Oh, no, not my dad. My Father. Completely different people,” Stiles is met with blank expressions. Huh. Right, the puppies don’t know who his Father is. Eh. Not his problem. Derek can explain it to them on his own time. “Anyways, it’ll be a pain in the ass because I’ve been trying to avoid his calls for a while now and he’ll be so clingy and smug, but I’ll take one for the team,” he says, ever so graciously. Ugh, Belial is going to be unbearable, too. Stiles is so not looking forward to that conversation.

More blank stares. Stiles smiles, nods once and turns around. He’ll have to go kill an animal or something for his sacrifice, since his Father still refuses to get signal on Hell. So messy. Stiles hopes his Father understands he won’t be returning until he gets stable wi-fi connection because he is not giving up Google.

“What? Stiles that explains nothing!” Lydia says, exasperated. Stiles doesn’t know what she’s talking about, he made perfect sense of himself! “You haven’t even told us what this thing is!”

Oh. Okay, maybe that one’s on him.

Please don't take this seriously. I beg of you. Also I know this makes absolutely no sense at all but it will be. Eventually. Maybe. Hopefully. Tagging @oldefashioned @salty-fryingpan @novasillies @hedwig221b and of course @dontcallpanic and @gege-wondering-around again, thank you so much for the tag!

#demon!stiles au #from the pits of hell au #stiles stilinksi #derek hale #scott mccall #lydia martin #sterek #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #wip #my wip #fanfic

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theogbadbitch · 3 days ago

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Long reblog😭

Opening up this app to see an update of R.E.L.L.S felt like this and I’m not even joking:

“and she’d hope to jump right into being jumped on. “ nami so #real🙂‍↕️

“Currently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. “ why I’m nervous like he coming over my damn house chile

“Her thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. “ lol I hope this is not foreshadowing anything…

“She’d have to talk to him about it. “ this conversation will either go really well or be hell no in between (we might have to jump Terry if he hurt my girl feelings)

“I’ve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.”

“Then there was Terry. He told her it wasn’t a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. “ what the hell is he like Batman I’m confused. Why is this is so ominous 😭😭😭😭😭

“Sir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious. “ well now I’m curious and slightly intrigued. Ain’t no way he can get any meaner than Sir, Terry must be a damn villain

“She convinced him to watch a movie with her. “ Nami got his mean ass doing relationship type stuff I know thats right🙂‍↕️

“I haven’t heard from you since we went out. Busy?” Mona’s tone was both cautious and blunt. “ yes actually she is busy weirdo

“Did he get tired of you yet?” Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her. “ both of them weird as hell I’m irritated

“You know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.” Mona says, ‘so, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?” Mind you he in the bathroom as they speak

“Let me tell you something bitch,’ he growls, “Don’t you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ain’t some little bitch to fuck with.” I JUST BUSTED OUT LAUGHING! HELLO???????

Coming to MY HOME to threaten me , I would’ve had something hot for both their asses

“She does what I tell her and if you don’t get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.” Lord Terry about to whoop his ass ain’t it

“You brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.” Like Nami should really beat Mona’s ass because??????????

“ I love me a brat,’ he says, looking at Nami with a smirk”

Terry and Nami so better than me , soon as I heard that “bitch” word I would’ve crashed out

“with my girl” HIS girl🙂‍↕️

“His devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers.” a #REAL eater we love to see it!

“Let’s go to bed,’ he says, ‘I’m ready to fuck you.” We all cheered!!!

“She knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasn’t prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her. “ He about to tear my girl UP

“Sir, I don't,’ she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words.”

“Talk to me so I know you’re okay. Tell Daddy what’s wrong,’ he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. “ y’all let’s start picking out rings and baby names , I’ll start , I really like Amara for a girl

“You’re so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,’ he praised, ‘letting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?” Wow.

“nine and a half inches. “ I KNEW IT.

“Ain’t no other nigga gon’ fuck you like this.” This is some I’m in your bushes stalking you type of dick, like this is insane

“Tell me what you need,’ he said, slowing his thrusts to enjoy the way she sighed in content.” AN EXORCISM

“Touch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so. “ This doesn’t explain why at this point you still won’t let her touch you but we’ll circle back to this sir. Something tells me Nami isn’t going to stop asking.

“It’s okay baby,’ he cooed. “ no it isn’t you are some type of succubus omg she gotta sage her apartment after this

“Just feel it,’ he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. “ smh he sick need him so bad

“Let me touch you, Sir,’ she begged”

“How about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.” I shouldn’t have laughed at this😭😭😭

“Finish eating so we can play again.” Hey so this is actually insane! He would’ve had to get the hell out my house fr😭

.summary.: what's a little conversation among friends? nami and terry have some Play Time.

Kinks (in order they appear): oral m receiving, facefucking, terry is a chatty dom, fingering, oral f receiving, anal play (plug insertion), slight degradation, spanking, cum play, nami experiences sub space (cnc) Wordcount: 8k+ graphics: @firefly-graphics / @cafekitsune note: this is broken into two parts @zillasvilla watched me all weekend work on this and was like "Break it apart"

Terry had given Nami a week to reset. He would send her a text or call every now and then, but she hadn’t seen him in a week. She counted down the days until Friday and now that it was here she was anticipating so much. He had promised so much and all she had to do was behave. He was going to be spending the weekend at her place which mean it was a weekend of Play Time. A reward for getting through the long week of school, work, and her personal life.

Nami had spent the whole weekend prepping her apartment for Terry. She switched her sheets to black so they looked like the ones in his guest room that she used. There were some light yellow accents. Water was stocked in the fridge along with enough snacks to get them through whatever he had planned. She didn’t want to have to leave the bedroom for anything.

Currently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. The light fruity scent came from multiple candles. He was supposed to come at eight and they’d have breakfast and she’d hope to jump right into being jumped on.

Satisfied with the cleaning she did, Nami dashed to her bedroom and turned on her shower. She had everything to do once she was in; shave, exfoliate, cleanse, moisturize! She wanted this weekend to go as smooth as she was trying to make her skin. She had coco butter and a light scented body oil waiting on the counter.

Her thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. Being here for his pleasure was all good and she was a willing participant, but her need for the closeness of a partner was rearing its ugly head. She wanted more of a connection that wasn’t just his hands on her body. She’d have to talk to him about it.

Nami finished in the shower and patted herself dry. She lathered her body in lotion and oil, creating a sweet vanilla scent that would linger as the day passed. She removed the rollers from her hair, the blow-out keeping it’s shape and curls. She found it much easier to have her hair down. He could wrap it around his hand better and the feeling of his fist against the back of her head made her cunt quiver. Playtimes were meant to be fun and light, no real lesson or teaching moment. It was about her pleasure. But she wanted him to manhandle her, without it being tied to punishment. She loved the build up.

Terry hadn’t told her what to wear, but she knew what to not put on. Reaching into her closet, she pulled out a pair of white soffee shorts and a yellow crop top. Just as she was coming out of her room, her doorbell went off. Nami slid over to the door and yanked it open.

“Hi,’ she greeted while leaning against the door frame.

Terry looked down at her and her outfit, humming in satisfaction, then pulled her to him as he stepped inside the apartment. He dropped his bag beside the door and kicked off his shoes while holding her still with his hands on her face and his lips on hers. He guided her towards her couch and made her sit.

“It’s been a long week,’ he whispered, ‘Daddy just needs you to suck his dick first,’ he pushed down the waistband of his sweats and she watched his dick pop up and smack against his stomach. “Hands on your knees and keep them there.”

He grabbed the back of her head and guided her mouth towards his leaking tip.

“Relax.” He reminded her.

Guiding his tip past her lips she relaxed her jaw and stuck out her tongue. Nami’s eyes clenched as he pushed further into her mouth. She breathed rapidly through her nose, managing to keep herself calm enough for him to slide down her throat. Her nose brushed his pelvis as he held her there. Her nails dug into her knees, leaving half crescent shapes.

“Good girl,’ he cooed, ‘I’ve been edging myself all week for you.”

Terry pulled his hips back and pushed them forward, using her mouth to get off.

“I’ve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.”

Nami looked up at him as the tip of his dick poked down her throat. Drool slid over her chin and over the front of her top. His stance widened as he moved her head up and down faster. Her spit covered his balls and she wanted to reach out to grab them.

“I’m going to hold myself off,’ he pulled her mouth off his dick and watched the spit and drool fall out of her mouth in a thick string connecting to his dick. “Suck the tip,’ he ordered.

She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head of his dick, sucking as he asked. Her cheeks hollowed out each time and he hissed, stroking the rest of his length with a tight fist.

“Head back,’ he grunted roughly, tugging on her curls, ‘mouth open.”

She stuck her tongue out for good measure and Terry watched her brown eyes look up at him in anticipation. His hand twisted up and down his dick. Above her, Terry jacked off against her lips. She listened to him bite back his moans. She felt emboldened by her position in front of him. Her tongue darted out and lapped at his tip again, smearing his pre-cum like frosting on a cake.

“That’s not being good,’ he gritted his teeth together and she giggled, repeating the action, much to his satisfaction. “Shit.”

Yanking her head backward, Terry leered over her as he choked his dick with his hand. His cum flew out in thick ropes of cum, hot and sticky on her mouth and tongue. He tasted a little salty, but it seemed like he had just come from working out. The thought of sucking his dick right after a workout was a kink she didn’t realize she wanted to act out. Terry pushed his dick into her mouth and she sucked him clean, the mess on her face cooling as her head bobbed up and down. He pushed her back into the couch and admired his work of art on her face.

Twenty minutes later, Nami was cleaned up and sitting at the kitchen island. Terry cooked breakfast; eggs, sausage, and grits. While eating he sat next to her with one of his hands between her legs. He wasn’t touching her pussy, yet, but his hand was close enough she could feel a little heat.

“You know it’s Play Time but let me give you a few ground rules. You get to cum as much as you want to but there are still boundaries.”

He grabbed her thigh. “No touching me or yourself unless you have permission.”

“You already know how to address me.” he paused. “And you understand when that changes.”

He told her it would be easy to tell who she was dealing with when they were together. Sir would have told her to drop to her knees at the door. He would have bent her over the arm of the couch and fucked her mouth. Daddy was nicer, sweeter, the man in front of her right now, and that she was excited about it. Then there was Terry. He told her it wasn’t a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. He made himself sound like a caged animal locked away to keep the public safe. Terry was unforgiving. A disciplinarian to the highest degree. Sir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious.

“Daddy,’ she says, eyes on her plate as she shoves her fork into her eggs.

“Let me know if it gets to be too much.”

Terry turned in his chair and pulled her chair closer to him. The hand between her legs moved and she felt two of his fingers snake themselves into her pussy. He wiggled them deep and watched her head loll backwards. Her mouth parted and she struggled to keep still and let him touch her how he wanted to.

Standing up, Terry moved behind her. He kept his hand between her legs, stroking her pussy with two fingers. His other hand snaked under her shirt, cupping her breast before tugging and pulling on her taut nipple. His lips found her neck, the three feelings overwhelming her body like a flood.

“I want to make you feel good.” He moved to the other nipple, tugging cowards on it. “Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

His fingers stroked up to her clit, painting it in her slick before he plunged them back into her hole. His thumb pressed on her clit, pushing the throbbing bundle of nerves until she shook on the stool.

“Talk to me Nami,’ he says, ‘tell me to play with your pussy.”

The hand that was playing with her nipples wrapped around her throat. Leaning back against his chest, Terry held her still with his upper body while his fingers strummed her pussy like a guitar.

“I like when you touch me like this,’ she panted. Her chest rose and fell in time with her beating heart. “Your fingers feel so good, Daddy.”

“Do they?” He asked. Terry pulled them out and put them into her mouth.

She sucked slowly on his fingers as he pulled her from the stool. He walked her to the dining table and laid her across it. He pulled up a chair and pushed her legs to her chest as he sat down. Served up for his tasting, Terry did just that.

Terry excused himself to the bathroom. Nami cleaned up from breakfast, dumping the cold food and putting the coffee into the fridge to use later. She slipped on her shorts and wiped down the dining table. She brought out throw blankets and tossed them on the couch. She convinced him to watch a movie with her. As she spread out her favorite blanket there was a hard knock on her door.

She wasn’t expecting anyone so when she opened the door and saw Mona and her dom standing there she was surprised.

“What are you doing here,’ Nami asked.

“I haven’t heard from you since we went out. Busy?” Mona’s tone was both cautious and blunt. She kept looking at her dom, who was standing by the foyer. He didn’t look happy at all.

“School, you know it’s my last semester.” Nami replied. “Is everything okay?”

Mona didn’t just stop by. At least not without calling ahead first.

“Did he get tired of you yet?” Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her.

“You know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.” Mona says, ‘so, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?”

Nami shook her head. “No, no, no, he’s still my dominant.”

The same dominant that was in her bathroom and probably listening to this very conversation.

“He’s not here, so it doesn’t matter,’ her dom says annoyed. “Let me tell you something bitch,’ he growls, turning his sudden fury on Nami. “Don’t you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ain’t some little bitch to fuck with.”

Shirtless, Nami saw Terry step out of the room, a scowl on his face. It was very clear he heard everything that was said.

“Mona, you brought him here to tell me that,’ Nami says as she takes a step backwards.

“She does what I tell her and if you don’t get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.”

“A business you’re failing.” Terry said.

Four sets of eyes turned to him in shock. Mona’s eyes raked over Terry’s bare chest and the way his sweats hung low on his hips. Terry couldn’t remember their names and didn’t care either, but he wasn’t going to let them speak to Nami like that.

“You brought your dominant to your friend’s place,’ Terry says as he assesses the situation before him. “You brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.”

“We-’

”I just want to get the story straight.”

He walked over to Mona, the same way her dominant had walked up on Nami. Except, Mona was enjoying the attention. He could see it in her eyes; this is what she wanted. Her tight lip expression might fool the other man in the room, but he knew all he had to do was speak and Mona would drop to her knees.

“Tell her you’re jealous,’ Terry says. “Tell Nami, you’re jealous of her.”

“I’m not…no! Nami, I’m not-’

In a sweet voice, Terry folded his arms over his chest. “Tell. Her.” He looked at Nami and motioned her to move towards him. Just within reach, he had her stop. “I like submissives who listen. Your defiance is a turn off. That’s why I’ve never looked your way. I love me a brat,’ he says, looking at Nami with a smirk, ‘but you are a petulant brat. The worst kind.”

Mona’s mouth dropped open and her eyes darted between the two men in the room. Only one of them had control and she looked over her shoulder at Nami. Terry snapped his fingers in her face.

“Look at me when you say it,’ he says, ‘and mean it. Or you’ll stand here and say it until I tell you to stop.”

Her chance with Terry was long gone at this point. She knew that the moment he pulled her from the bar in the club.

“I’m jealous of Nami.”

“Why?” Terry asked. “Tell her why you’re jealous.”

Mona looked at her dominant and Terry laughed.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at him. He’s a switch at best, he’s not going to do anything for you.”

Nami’s Play Time was being interrupted and he could see was getting frustrated with the situation. As much as he wanted to draw this out, and he should, he didn’t want to completely ruin Nami’s day. He had a lot planned for her.

Terry stared at Mona causing her to fidget and eventually look up at him.

“I’m jealous of Nami because you picked her to be your submissive.” Terry leaned in, his voice low. He only wanted Mona to hear what he was about to tell her.

“I should make you tell her exactly how you really feel about her.”

Nami could sense that when they were getting dressed for the party. Her line of questioning had made her feel undesirable and to know Terry picked up on it as well didn’t make her feel as crazy as she thought she was.

“You’re lucky Nami is here.” Terry turned to the other man in the room and approached him. “Handling an overstepping submissive? I know you weren’t talking about Nami.”

“Nah,” he says, ‘Mona wanted to come see her friend.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.” Nami says. “Leave please.”

“You heard her,’ Terry says, though his eyes dare the man in front of her to move.

Mona turned around and gave Nami an apologetic look. “Call him off,’ she says, gesturing towards the stand off between the men.

Nami’s euphoric state of bliss was being compromised. This disruption was toying with her Play Time and she didn’t want Terry to be too annoyed to play with her. Nami felt hot in the face but it wasn’t from anger. She was getting upset and frustrated. Terry stood there, stoic and squared off, his stance defensive.

“Nami please,’ Mona says.

“Why should she do anything for you?” Terry taunted. He says, turning his head to glance at Mona and Nami behind him.

“The way you called me about her, you don’t get to speak to Mona that way.”

“Oh, wheres the bass you had with my girl,’ Terry grinned, ‘all that bravado is gone now that I’m in the room huh.”

“No one is scared of you,’ he replied, brows knitting together as his jaw tensed.

“I don’t want you to be,’ Terry replied. “I want you to be uncomfortable. I want you to not be weak. Defend your submissive,’ he taunted, ‘you don’t want me to talk to her?” He whispered. “Tell me.”

The tension in the room was high. Nami took a step towards Terry, hoping to diffuse the situation and get them out.

“Just go, Mona,’ Nami says.

Walking towards her bedroom she put space between her and the chaos swirling around her kitchen. She sat on the edge of her bed, legs folded as she dropped her head into her hands. Her friendship with Mona had been great. She never once did she think Mona had ill feelings towards her. Hearing her be jealous, and mean, over her relationship with Terry was hard. She wanted to share all her experiences with Terry with her. Finally diving into BDSM led to the break down of a friendship, if it ever was there.

“Hey,’ Nami looked up, face wet.

“Yes, Sir?” She says.

“Lie back.”

She did as she was told and they both moved on from what happened in the kitchen. She didn’t want to talk about it anyway and further mess up her morning. Terry moved to stand by the head of her bed. Her cuffs were slung over his shoulder and something silver was resting in his palm.

“Shorts off, bend your legs and keep them open for me.”

Nami did as told and also removed her top, Terry laughed at her haste and kissed her forehead. He cuffed her hands before kissing them.

“Keep them up,’ he says.

Crawling into the bed, Terry kissed his way up her leg, sucking the soft skin into his mouth as he watched her chest rise and fall. She anticipated things and her body responded to it. She knew his mouth was about to touch her pussy, so she anticipated it. Her body warmed and she started to leak slick from her lower lips. His warm breath heightened that feeling and she almost kicked him in the face when his lips landed on her knee.

“Relax,’ he says, ‘you will need to relax for what I’m about to do.”

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking slowly, while his fingers stroked around her wet hole. Terry pushed them in slowly, curling his fingers upwards as his tongue flattened against her clit. She was lost in the sensation of his mouth and fingers that when something cold, wet, and hard pressed against her asshole, she jumped. Terry pulled away from her pussy, licking his lips as he eyed the messed between her legs.

“Sir?”

“It’s a plug.”

“A plug? For what?”

“I think you know what it’s for. You asked for it.”

Nami breathed out and Terry’s head went back down between her legs. She focused on the way he devoured her pussy, licked and sucked until she was trembling again. She felt his hands moved, but not the anal plug. Instead, Terry licked his way down from her pussy to her ass then back up.

His devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers. He was doing it because he wanted to and it was for his own desires. There was a pool of her slickness on the bed between her legs, around his mouth, and coating the inside of her thighs. She got so messy.

As Nami began to wiggle and squirm to keep from riding his face, Terry used one hand to spread her left ass cheek. The anal plug rubbed against her puckered hole while his tongue licked back into her weeping sex. Both his tongue and the plug surged froward at the same time.

“Oh fuck,’ she cursed.

Terry smacked her outer thigh. “Watch that mouth.”

He pushed it to the hilt, making sure it was snug. The stretch was different and it made her clit throb. She clenched around it, only pulling it further in before it would relax as she unclenched. She felt full. The bulbous head of the plug stretched her deliciously.

“Oh that’s pretty.”

Netflix was on but Nami wasn’t sure what was playing any more. She straddled Terry’s lap, his hands on her thighs, smoothing around to her ass while another scratched up her naked back. The only thing she wore was the anal plug, firmly nestled in her ass, and her cuffs. The yellow material really looked like bracelets when they weren’t hooked together and to the bed. She held her own arms behind her back as they kissed. Her hips and his doing a motion against each other. She’d rocked side to side and he would jerk his hips up and down. The friction of his dick pressing against her led to more anticipation of what was to come.

Naked, Nami was exposed to him. Her body on display as she pulled away from his mouth to breathe.

“Let’s go to bed,’ he says, ‘I’m ready to fuck you.”

It was noon, the sun w as high in the sky as Terry tossed Nami on the bed. She bounced and moved towards the pillows, her hands in front of her. Terry dropped his sweats. She had seen his dick numerous times but there was something about this time that was different. She watched as he touched himself, his hand stroking upwards towards his tip when he grimaced from the touch. Sensitive, she logged that for later. He always ended their night in her mouth and if she got the chance she’d make sure to play with the sensitive tip.

He had another bottle in his hands before he squeezed a clear gel into his palm.

“Fucking your throat is one thing,’ he says, dropping a knee to the bed as he palmed his dick again. “Fucking you is another and I want to make sure I slide right in.”

This had been the moment Nami was waiting for. She knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasn’t prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her.

“Sir, I don't,’ she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words. She didn’t know if she wanted Terry to stop fucking her or keep going, but the inbetween felt too good to care. Her legs had long fallen to the bed, open and pliant in his hands. His hips snapped between hers slamming his balls against her ass as his dick finally split her open. As he finally fucked her like the dominant he was, uncaring, crazed, feral. Using her pussy in ways that made her more gushy than a Gusher candy.

“Mhn,’ he called, “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Ah!,’ she keened.

His hips snapped upwards, then rutted against her, applying pressure to her clit.

“Talk to me so I know you’re okay. Tell Daddy what’s wrong,’ he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. He looked into her eyes, watching as she forced them straight but couldn’t help but cross them when he hit that spongy spot deep in her cunt.

“You’re so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,’ he praised, ‘letting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?” He looked down where their bodies were joined. The mess between her legs was hypnotizing. She was so wet and creaming so much. “Giving Daddy such good pussy tonight.”

“I’m good,’ she repeated, as if she was asking him a question, not believing she was.

“Yes,’ he hissed, licking a long swipe up her neck before sucking a red spot into the side of it. Nami arched her chest into his, find some strength to wrap her legs around his waist, crying out at the way he began to wine his hips. “You gonna let Daddy play in his pussy, right?”

Her hands were tied above her head this time and she pulled on her restraints as she felt his fingers slid into her mouth for her to suck on.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ she hummed over and over. “Play in my sweet pussy Daddy,’ she mumbled, the words coming out between her moans.

“I know you are,’ he hummed a familiar beat, ‘gimmie that sweet,’ he flexed, his dick jumped, she cried out, ‘that nasty,’ he leaned down, going from two feet to one foot on the bed beside her open hips, ‘that gushy stuff.”

The sounds she made were wet and sticky; sloshing almost and it just kept spilling out of her this way. The position sent him deeper, stuffing her nice and full with all nine and a half inches.

Her lower body wiggled, trying to fight the pressure building as he stilled his body. Terry used her mouth like a toy, sucking her tongue into his, biting her lips, drawing a little of pain from the pleasure she was feeling between her legs. The stretch burned, but fuck, he made it feel so good. He hoisted her legs up so they fell over his arms. Fully seated in her pussy, he rubbed against her.

“You look so good taking my dick,’ he praises.

Nami ached to touch him. It was the one thing she had been working to earn since their first night, but he always bound her hands away from him. Avoided her finger like the plague. He knew her body so intimately her pussy clenched around his dick at the thought. Terry’s hands dropped to her waist in a bruising hold.

“That’s it, cum on my dick,’ he said, finally finding a rhythm she could rock her hips to.

Nami squirmed beneath him as he he fucked her into the bed. She was already running like a faucet, but when Terry pushed her legs towards her her head she gushed, a cord snapping as she came, squirting on him as he chased his high. Fuck he was so big. She thought, trying to catch her breath as her body tensed and jerked beneath him.

The wet sound of their skin slapping as Terry dug her out as he chased his high. His ball clenched tight as he held her throat and hip to keep her still. Him wearing his pussy out was the only thing on his mind, making her so tired she purred for his mouth to make it feel better. Terry could see how fucked out she was, her body coming down from her orgasm. He dropped his weight to her body, pushing them both up the bed and rutting against her as he placed her legs on his shoulders and leaned down. Still deep in that shit, Terry made sure she could feel him, poking that g-spot over and over. All she could do is scream out for him, cry, and beg him to not stop, and that he felt so good. Her sweet voice was slurred, each work leaving her lips like she was drunk off his dick.

Nami felt like she was in a tunnel. Terry’s voice was muffled to her, the intense feeling her body was experiencing had filled her head with so much pleasure she couldn’t think straight. It hurt to think about anything other than how he was making her body feel.

“Why you fucking me like this, ma’ he asks, hissing from how tight her pussy gripped him. “Why you sucking me in so deep, baby.”

Nami cried, too overwhelmed to respond with anything else. Her body, down to her tippy toes, was numb. She was barely holding onto reality.

“Ain’t no other nigga gon’ fuck you like this.”

She heard him speaking but it was more to himself, stroking his big ass ego the way his big ass dick was stroking her tight walls.

Terry looked at her, tears running from her eyes, her body shaking as she took his hard thrusts. He turned his head, kissing her both of her ankles he swiveled his hips side to side and she quivered.

“You want to nut again don’t you.” He grit his teeth together, the squishy sounds permeating the air the same way the smell of their sex did. “Hold that shit in,’ he snapped, ‘let me play in my pussy a lil’ longer.”

He could feel her about to cum and knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold it in. Her body had betrayed her twice already and those orgasms damn near made him bust. Terry yanked his dick out and dropped her legs to the bed. Nami whimpered and tried to reach for him, forgetting her hands were tied to the bed post. Splayed out, Terry bent down between her legs, his tongue replacing his dick. He slurped her clit into his mouth, flattened his tongue and dragged it up and down, coating his face in her slick.

“Oh Daddy,’ she drawled out. She planted one foot on the bed and arched towards his mouth.

His hand slapped against her ass, twice. “Pretty ass pussy,’ he mumbled, fisting his dick to stroke as he lapped at her drenched lips. “Why you so fucking wet hm? I can drown in this shit.” Terry released her clit with a soft popping sound and grabbed her legs again. His thrust back in jerked her upwards on the bed. He bottomed out and watched her grab the rope of her restraints.

“Tell me what you need,’ he said, slowing his thrusts so enjoy the way she sighed in content. He had abused this pussy for at least an hour, taking what he needed from her.

“Let me touch you,’ she whined, ‘please.”

Touch. Fuck. He knew the moment her hands touched him he would lose it. He always did. There was something about his girl, his sub, clinging to him for dear life, raking nails down his back like he knew she wanted to do.

“Please, please, please…’ she begged, a fresh set of tears springing from her eyes as she cried. His pace quickened.

She never asked before and he could see the longing in her eyes when they were together or in a scene. Touch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so.

He shook the thought away and continued to fuck her into the bed. Her pussy gripped his dick right and he groaned.

“Daddy just had to give this pussy something to do.” He grunted. He saw Nani’s arms and body slowly begin to relax. “That’s it,’ he coached.

Nami began to cry. The sensation she was feeling was out of body. She felt so high and weightless but at the same time grounded and heavy from his thrusts. She didn’t cry from pain but the pleasure just needed another way out. She unclenched her fists as he rocked his hips into hers. His dick curved slightly to the left and stretched her just as good. Terry’s dick was big.

“It’s okay baby,’ he cooed.

Nami whines and whimpered. Her thigh began to shake from her resolve snapping. She felt too exposed. The room light suddenly blinded her as he took off the scarf. Blurry she blinked out her tears as she turned her head to the side and went to bite down on her arm when Terry grabbed her face.

“Just feel it,’ he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. His tongue darted out and he licked her tears before sucking her lips into a kiss.

“Let Daddy take care of you, hm?” He wrapped his hand around her throat and held her to the bed. He looked into her eyes. They were glossy and she had a dazed expression on her face though she was fighting it.

“But….Daddy,’ she protested, her hips trying to get his to move again.

“Be a good girl,’ he says as he thrusts once more.

He resumed fucking Nami, filling her inch by inch with his dick. He held her hips and gave her slow but forceful thrusts. Her pussy choked his dick.

“Shit I’m going to fuck this pussy open.” He popped Nami on the thighs and she looked at him with doey brown eyes. “You're sitting on this dick all weekend.”

“Oh!” She whimpered, her pussy making wet sounds as his words make her gush a little.

Terry noticed and smirked. “You like when I talk to you like that, hm?”

He leans over her, his forehead pressing against hers as he watches his dick slide in an out of her cunt. There was a mess between their legs. A sticky, slippery, wet, mess. He sunk himself deep each thrust, caging her body between him and the bed so she didn’t slide across the sheets. Terry rubbed his hands down her thigh and then hooked it behind her knee before pushing it to the bed.

“Open up,’ he growled, eyes rolling backwards as she clenched around him. “Fuck, open that pussy up.”

Nami tugged on her restraints until they shook the headboard. Her body was slipping from her control and all she could do was let it happen. He had a tight grip on her leg, holding her still as he pummeled her into the mattress. The sheets were askew and pillows were somewhere on the floor. His sweat dripped onto her body, the cold droplets adding to the sensations her body was experiencing. Her clit throbbed for release, but it went ignored, and pulsed. Her toes were curling and her back was arching up off the bed, seeking out more contact from her dominate.

“I got you baby,’ he groaned. His own body shuddered. “Let me fuck this pussy like it deserves to be.”

Nami made the mistake of looking at Terry. He was staring right at her. His eyes had darkened. His brows were knitted together and when his tongue darted out to lick his thick lips, Nami whined. She could feel his hands on her body; slapping her thigh,

“Soggy ass pussy,’ he spoke, his thumb reached between their bodies and rubbed her neglected clit. “I wish you could see how sloppy this shit looks,’ he laughed. “Fuck, Nami.”

Terry was stroking something deep inside of her. He reached places no one had prior. He fucked her towards another orgasm, but this one felt uncontrolled. She scrunched her nose, thumbs pressing into the link on her cuffs, and he hips fell back to the bed. New sounds of pleasure fell from her lips. High pitched squeals as he snapped his hips over and over between her legs. Stuffing her with his fat dick to the point she could feel the recoil in her thighs. Speaking of, her thighs fell to the bed, fully opening herself to Terry and his hands.

“That’s it baby,’ he praised, ‘give Daddy his pussy.”

He used his hands to rub her sides, massaging her into relaxing. She stopped tugging on her cuffs and her arms slackened. Nami’s breath shuddered with each thrust between her legs, her pussy was stuffed full and she felt like she was feeling him in her stomach. The depths he reached mad her lift her hips for more.

“Be Daddy’s little doll,’ he whispered.

“Doll?” Her voice trembled and her bottom lip quivered. “I…..doll?”

She could barely form words, eyes crossed now that he could finally see them. As tight as her pussy was around his dick, that wasn’t the only thing turning him on. Her lack of speech made his ego puff up just a little. He warned her of his plans to fuck her and now that he was inside of her he didn’t want to leave. He enjoyed the other physical and mental effects of sex just as much as the actual act of sex.

“Yeah,’ he replied, his voice even as he stroked himself with her cunt.

Each slide back in Nami could feel the thick tip of his dick slide against her spot. Every. Time. he hit it directly and she saw stars. Her vision became a little spotty from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving her.

“My little ragdoll.”

Terry’s hands moved up her chest, tugging down on her nipples after rolling them between his fingers. He admired the bruises on her hips from his hands. The dark spots a reminded for her long after he was done. Respectfully he was going to make sure she had as many orgasms as he body could give. Disrespectfully? He was going to dig her pussy out and dick her down. He just needed her to-

“Daddy,’ she weeped, ‘I feel-’

“Let go for me,’ he coaches, kissing her quickly to ground her for a moment. Aware of her body, Terry wrapped a hand around her throat and applied just enough pressure she could focus on him. “Let it happen okay?” He says. “You’re slipping into sub space.” He noted, more to himself than her. “Let me take you there, Nami.”

His voice sounded like whispers to her. She hadn’t realized her eyes were closed until she opened them and he was watching her face. His expression was soft and a stark contrast to the roughness of his dick fucking her. She couldn’t hear her moans any more and her body started to float. Her thighs rose on their own, needing a little friction but it was pushed back to the bed.

A fucking faucet.

Dripping so fucking much.

Wet. Ass. Pussy!

His stamina was insane and Nami’s body was his outlet. That same body betrayed her. She felt like she was in a dream state. In a trance. She thought she was tugging on her restraints, but Terry had already unhooked it and her arms were laying above her head. She knew to keep them there but with the euphoric feeling course through her body she had no strength to move them anyway.

She felt like mush in hands. Pliant, Terry grabbed her neck again.

“Feels good,’ he asked. He knew getting her to talk in this state would be hard, he could see the pleasure in her eyes with how slack her mouth was.

Nami’s mouth dropped open and a trail of drool followed. She could see Terry but wasn’t really seeing him. She could feel him deep and each thrust drove her to the brink.

“Good,’ she choked out, ‘so big,’ she cried.

“I know baby,’ he hissed.

“Give it up, Nami.” He pushed her into the bed with a hand around her neck. “Submit, to Daddy.”

She couldn’t reach to hold him and the grip on the sheets wasn’t enough to keep Nami from jerking upwards as her climax sacked into her body. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as the arch in her back brought her body upwards so suddenly she gasped; unable to speak anything other than Daddy. She was a river of slick and emotions, her body levitating and grounded at the same time. The feeling was out of body and it was like she was watching herself get fucked. Terry pulled out long enough to roll her to her hands and knees. There was no hesitation as he slid right back into her velvety walls. He held her hips still as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust and as her arms stretched above her head she wanted to reach back and cup his sack in her hands, feel how heavy he was, and stroke him that way towards pleasure.

“Push back on it,’ he ordered, grabbing a hand full of her hair to yank her head back. “Show me you want it, doll.”

Mindlessly, Nami pushed her hips back, letting his dick stretch her in the new position. Terry’s breathing began to change. His breaths were shorter, staggered, and he was trying to control them, but couldn’t. He snatched out of her cunt and pulled her to her feet. Weak, Nami fell into him and he popped her on the thighs.

Terry spun her around and forced her to bend over at the waist. At the perfect height, Nami touched her toes then wrapped her hands around her ankles. His feet kicked her legs apart right before he lined his dick up and slid back in. He moved her back and forth. There was a lack of balance but her trust in his strength to hold her up, kept her from worrying. She could feel her slick sliding down her legs.

“Fuck,’ Terry shouted. He moved her to the bed and laid her on her stomach at the edge. His hips slammed into her ass, his dick searching for that gummy spot that made her squirt earlier.

His eyes dropped to the anal plug he fitted into her earlier. He reached down and tapped it, causing it to move up and down. Nami’s hand swung back the new sensation jolting her body forward. Terry grabbed her wrist and folded her arm across her back.

“You want me in there,’ he taunted, using his other hand to twist the plug. “You want me to fuck this ass too huh?” He kissed between her shoulder blades as his hand pulled the plug halfway out and pushed it back in. “Yeah, you are,’ he cooed. “You’re going to give Daddy all your holes mmhm,’ he joked, smacking her ass as he fucked her.

This was his show. Terry felt on top, on cloud nine, and euphoric. The high seeping into his body was making him a bit feral. His grip on Nami tightened, his sack seizing up as Nami soaked his dick again. He was on the precipice of an orgasm when his eyes clenched shut. He bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood, as he thrust became shallow and staggered. His rhythm was thrown off as Nami turned her head after lifting up on her arms to glance back at him. Her eyes were closed in pleasure and her mouth was swollen and parted. She looked fucked out while in sub space. She made soft cooing sounds instead of moans, egging him on.

“Fuck,’ he cursed, realized it was his favorite of the night, ‘it’s coming, shit I’m gonna cum.” He wasn’t wearing a condom and he hadn’t discussed with Nami where he should shoot his load. He wanted to fill her with it and watch it ooze out. So he was going to.

“Daddy’s gonna nut in this pussy,’ he pulled her backwards, grunting as ropes of hot cum painted her cervix and slippery walls.

Terry held her still white he emptied his sack, smacking her ass in time to the spurts leaving his tip. Stilling, he let her spasm around his dick, squeezing him deeper as she shook. Terry brought her hips up and pushed her shoulders into the bed. Inch by inch, Terry pulled out. When his tip was left he pushed back in once and Nami’s pussy gushed. Over sensitive, she was spent. Her pussy was spent. Clarity was setting and she inhaled suddenly, dropping to the bed as Terry pulled all the way out. He rolled her over and leaned over her. His lips slanted over hers and she sighed into his mouth.

“You did so good.” He praises her with kisses. Soft and sweet while her soul found its way back into her body. “See what being good for me gets you?” He reached between her legs and plunged two fingers into her pussy, churning them around while using his load as lubricant. “I told you I was going to teach this pussy what to do.”

He added his thumb and stroked her clit. He was playing with her now, toying with her over sensitive body. He was slowly bringing her down from that intense pleasure. Safely guiding her down so she didn’t hit the sub drop too hard.

“Talk to me, beautiful,’ he whispers. “What do you need from me?”

Nami licked her dry lips, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Speaking felt difficult and she cried suddenly from not being able to form words. She felt good. Everything about what she just experienced was perfect. She just couldn’t form the words to tell him that. Terry pulled his fingers out and smacked her pussy a few times.

“Water,’ she croaked, finding her voice amid her moaning, ‘please.”

Terry kissed her cheek. “There’s my girl,’ he noted, seeing the clarity returning in her eyes. She was looking at him now, not through him earlier. Fully present in her body, she tried to sit up. Terry pushed her gently back to the bed and helped her crawl towards the top. He grabbed the pillows from the floor and made a cocoon for her to curl up in. His cum leaked out her hole, smeared across her thigh as she moved. Wiping a hand down his face, he shook his head. He snatched up his sweats and strode towards her bathroom.

He ran her bath first and then slipped into her kitchen. He left the door open so the AC could kick on and cool the room. He grabbed a few waters and some fruit for her to snack on. Coming to the side of the bed, he opened one of the water bottles and pulled Nami to sit up. The cold water cools Nami as soon as it hit her tongue. Terry pulled the bottle away as she choked.

“Slow,’ he murmured. “Take it easy.”

She ate strawberries from his hands in between kisses.

“You were well worth the wait,’ he pulls her face in with a hand on her chin. “How do you feel?”

“Overwhelmed,’ she sighed, the word falling out of her lips blissfully. Though the haze of pleasure was gone, she was still feel the effects of submitting to Terry. High on his attention, she leaned into him, seeking out his mouth for another kiss.

Terry entertained her, pulling her to his lap, but keeping her hands in one of his behind her back. Nami wiggled against his hand.

“Let me touch you, Sir,’ she begged, her lips going from his jaw, to behind his ear, then his neck. She worked her hips against his bulge, aftercare becoming a fleeting thought as Nami worked herself back up.

“How about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.”

Terry stood up, Nami in his arms as he carried her to the bathroom. He supported her with one hand, the other keeping her wrists locked. Placing her on her feet, he brought her hands above her head and helped her into the bath. Nami grimaced as a cool sticky substance rolled down her leg.

“You’re still leaking out of me,’ she lowered herself into the tub.

“As I should be.” He kissed the top of her head and opened the cabinet under the sink. She had multiple scents and soaps and he settled on a lavender body wash and pine scented lotion.

Terry bathed her and carried her back to her bed. He remade it while she soaked in the warm water. Drying her off, he motioned for her to lie down. Back against the pillows he knelt on the bed at her feet and began working lotion into her skin. His thumbs pressed into the arches of her foot, drawing out soft groans. Her calves were next, and Terry took his time there, sucking on her toes. He massaged her body, sucking on her skin in random places. He tugged on a shirt and she noticed it wasn’t yellow, but the black one he came over in.

Yanking back the sheets, he tucked Nami into them. The bedside lamp turning off as he pulled the little string.

“I’m not tired,’ she yawned, stretching her limbs.

“Nap. I’ll have lunch when you wake up.”

She didn’t remember falling asleep or hear when her bedroom door opened up. Now, something was pulling her awake. Terry, kneeling beside the bed, had pulled her to the edge of it and opened her legs, exposing her sore cunt to his greedy mouth. Each swipe of his tongue wetted his lips. His tongue flicked across her clit before it slipped into her hole, fucking her how his dick had earlier.

“I got a little hungry,’ he admitted. “I knew this pussy would still be swollen so I came to kiss it better.”

Nami raised up on her arms to watch his tongue work between her legs. He kept her legs open with his heavy hands. His tongue split her lips apart so he could suck her clit into his mouth. Terry tongued her pussy until she was rocking her hips against his face. The anal plug bumped against his chin and he pulled back to glance at it.

Pulling away from her, Terry stood up and pulled Nami to her feet. She was able to walk now and followed behind him to the kitchen. Next to the glass of water was another bowl of fruit and a plate of salmon and rice.

“Do you remember submitting to me?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“A little. It was a lot going on,’ she admitted, ‘it just felt good. My body just gave out.” She chewed on the end of her fork. “Being used like that felt really good.”

“It’s called sub space. Where your body just feels intensely good yes and you can't put it into words?”

Nami nodded.

“Being able to fuck you senseless like that,’ he whistled. “Nami, I’m ready to be back in that pussy. Finish eating so we can play again.”

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