#it only took 4000 words

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lotus

a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)

summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration

word count: 4000

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With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.

“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”

“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”

Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?

Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”

“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.

Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.

“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”

“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”

“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.” 

“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”

Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.

“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”

“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”

“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you. 

He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you. 

As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed. 

A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around. 

Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.

“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound. 

But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”

Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”

“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”

“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”

“Bad breakup?” he guessed. 

“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”

“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”

“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”

Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom. 

Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh. 

“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained. 

“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely. 

It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt. 

You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way. 

Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become. 

As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch. 

It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch. 

You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were. 

“U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.

“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat. 

“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”

And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.

Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”

A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”

Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”

“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”

“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”

“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch. 

“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.

“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”

“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”

“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered. 

“Do you?”  

“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him. 

“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh. 

The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.

“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench. 

Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back. 

Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”

“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”

“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in. 

He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed. 

You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust. 

When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him. 

As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders. 

You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck. 

Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.

Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment. 

You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful. 

Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing. 

When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.

“Everything okay so far?”

“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own. 

His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs. 

After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.

Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.  

As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips. 

Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff. 

You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure. 

But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.

“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak. 

“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you. 

“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch. 

“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high. 

He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance. 

“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”

“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at. 

“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud. 

“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…” 

“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”

“I want–, I want–”

“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes. 

And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”

But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.         

As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp. 

Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”

When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole. 

It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself. 

Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole. 

“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom. 

“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was. 

Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy. 

It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore. 

That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy. 

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel. 

Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock. 

A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards. 

His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass. 

Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more. 

You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.

“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another. 

Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[dreammfyre]

dragon rider ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the only daughter between Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Sir Harwin Strong. The war for the throne had begun and they had to be alert to any attack from King's Landing and the greens, which is why the queen ordered to send Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys to the Arryn Valley under the responsibility of Rhaena Targaryen. You and your older brother, the prince Jacaerys Velaryon are saddened, finding comfort in each other.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister) virgin!reader. +4000 words.

Jacaerys Velaryon had locked himself in his chambers after saying goodbye to his younger brothers, Joffrey, little Aegon and Viserys had gone to the Valley of Arryn under the tutelage of lady Rhaena Targaryen to keep them safe from the dangers of war by order of the queen Rhaenyra. Sadness consumed him and after embracing them for the last time before they go, he disappeared into the corridors of the castle, he needed to be alone for a while, nor did he seek to hide in the most hidden corner of the castle so he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long time. Not even a night had passed and he missed them so hard, but he had to convince himself that even if the decision was painful, it was the best thing they could do to ensure the safety of the children.

How much more would they have to sacrifice?

Before falling back into another spiral of guilt and remorse, the door rang twice. He remained silent in the hope that whoever was on the other side would be convinced of his absence, but persisted.

"I will not attend to anyone!" he shouted angrily, an explicit order that anyone would have understood and much more importantly, obeyed. Once again the noise of the door got him riled up, annoyed he quickly got up almost running to the door, opened it ready to yell at anyone who had dared to disobey, but to his surprise he found the figure of his sister on the other side.

"Jace, you're here." You sounded relieved.

The prince leaned against the door frame watching you impatiently to enjoy the quiet solitude again.

"Yes, are you okay?" he asked unwilling to make conversation, but he wasn't going to take it out on you, you were his sister and had an obligation to take care of you.

You fiddled with your hands anxiously, not wanting to disturb your brother, nervous about the question you were about to ask. "May... I come in?"

Your brother frowned in confusion and concern then looked both sides of the hallway making sure no one was watching to avoid malicious rumors. It was frowned upon for a princess to sneak into her betrothed brother's chambers.

"Sure, come in."

You did the same as he did -tried to avoid being seen by foreign eyes, avoiding any kind of rumor- and entered quickly before being discovered.

"Are you busy?"

"No." He replied closing the door. Seeing you in his chambers was strange, it had been a long time since you had knocked on his door, couldn't even remember the last time. "Is something wrong, sister?"

It was hard for you to speak because you were so sad about the unexpected departure of your brothers and Jacaerys was the only person on the island who could understand that feeling. You were always the most sensitive of all Rhaenyra's children, tried to understand what was best, but you were going to miss reading stories to your broyher Joffrey, playing with little Aegon and Viserys who were beginning to say their first words, you visited them every day and said good night. Now, they were gone, the worst part was the feeling that tightened your chest, a horrible feeling that you would never see them again.

"I miss them... so much." You whispered looking down at your hands, twirling the gold ring on your finger. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding more tears. "I don't want to tell our mother, she has enough to carry."

Jacaerys felt a lump in his throat burn when he noticed you sad, you always had a kind smile that highlighted your natural beauty, but now and before him you looked dull, your appearance was enough reflection of your low mood, your eyes of a slight red color gave away that were crying not long ago. Jace took your hands between his, caressing your knuckles trying to comfort you with the physical contact, you closed your eyes letting a couple of tears escape that fell like waterfalls down your soft pink cheeks. Your brother hugged you immediately, his closeness did you good, Jacaerys always made you feel safe in your worst moments and this was no exception.

"It's for the best, sister. They have to be safe and unfortunately that far away from us." Though his words were more to himself than to you. "This will be over soon…I promise." He broke away only to look into your eyes and wipe your face himself with the gentleness you deserved to be treated with. Your gaze shone in admiration of Jacaerys' beauty, he looked so concerned for you that he had forgotten his own pain to heal yours. "Don't cry more, please." He begged.

Jace's hand on your cheek was gentle but firm.

"Did you realize that now it's just us left?" you whispered as a heart-breaking reality check. Your brother's face turned to absolute sadness, he had no encouraging words that even he couldn't believe. Jacaerys rested his forehead with yours closing his eyes feeling your scent, you were right, unfortunately you were only the only children of Queen Rhaenyra on the island.

Jacaerys' breath against your face felt so warm, he had his eyes closed in a quiet silence, it was just the two of you. Your brother sighed heavily, looked so peaceful, you had never seen him like that, almost vulnerable. Your hand went hesitantly to his face, caressing his skin with your fingers slowly, the prince didn't complain, he only felt a shiver in his body when you brushed his cheek very gently. Jace swallowed saliva with difficulty, trying to control his deepest and most forbidden impulse.

Impulsive, your other hand went to his curly hair, Jace still had his eyes closed because if he opened them he was going to give in to the temptation of your closeness. The truth is that you weren't thinking straight, for years your brother had been provoking things in you that you couldn't explain and other mens never, maybe it was the intense way he looked at you, how much he protected you or how inexplicably good you felt with him. That was one of the reasons why you decided to decline the request of your mother who had offered you to travel to the Arryn Valley to take care of your brothers and not suffer their remoteness, but you had to refuse because the real torture was going to be to leave Jacaerys in Dragonstone.

"Si-sister…" murmured the heir squeezing your wrist. "Don't do this to me."

Fuck. Your cheeks turned red realizing what was really happening. You took a step back to take distance almost falling over from your clumsy steps.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have to. I… I have to go." You apologized in agitation, unable to look your brother in the face because the shame that invaded your body after confusing you. You were a correct princess, daughter of the rightful queen, her blood, you couldn't jeopardize your reputation for an impulse you had managed to keep for years, much less an engaged prince. "Yes, I have to go."

Ashamed of your actions you walked towards the door dragging your long red dress, tearing yourself away from hell. You needed to get out of there before the situation with your own brother led you to make mistakes you might regret. You opened the door without waiting for a goodbye from him imagining that he must be paralyzed without understanding what had happened, however, Jacaerys closed the door preventing you from leaving.

"Don't go... please." His voice sounded more like a command than an invitation. You looked up meeting his dark eyes on you, you glued your back to the wooden door unable to take any more steps back. "And I don't want you to apologize."

Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it inside, Jacaerys carefully analyzing you.

"Jace, I…"

"You can do it." He interrupted needing you more than as a sister.

"It's not right." You tried to convince yourself, your eyes fixed on his parted lips waiting for you. "It's... stupid."

You were the most correct princess who had set foot on the island and that Westeros had seen grow, blameless in her actions and pure for what the knights fought for your attention. But your attention was on the heir, it was always with him.

Jacaerys knew perfectly you were never going to dare take the first step too guilty to live with regret, you were too attached to the rules to break them. So he took your waist breaking the minimal distance between you in a delicate and fragile kiss, a groping touch where his lips touched yours for the first time in a slow rhythm. The prince took your chin with his fingers holding it, he opened his eyes noticing your pink cheeks lit up and your lips moistened.

"Open your mouth." He whispered softly over your lips. You frowned in confusion, but Jace would never do anything bad to you, you trusted him to question it. "You're going to like it."

Jacaerys kissed you again, this time you listened fearing to do it wrong separating your lips a little more feeling his tongue entering your mouth invading your space, exploring and tasting you for the first time so hard that you clung to his shoulders. Jacaerys pressed you with his body against the door, you moved your tongue brushing it against his, had never experienced anything so incredible.

"Let me touch you, sister." He begged against your lips, running his hands down your dress, being the restraint he needed.

"Do it." Amidst the kisses and caresses you were spiraling into madness losing your princess modesty. Jacaerys had you cornered, he pulled your dress up just enough to slip his cold hand underneath, lifting your leg to the height of his hip, squeezing your skin if I understand your softness snatching a sigh from you. The prince's mouth left your lips and went down your neck, leaving traces of burning kisses, kissing your collarbones lost in the moment.

To both your brother and the people you were like a flower, the most delicate, the one Jacaerys always loved, you were his only sister and he had cared for you every day of his life repressing his deepest feelings. But always a dark seed was planted in his mind, he tried to make it disappear, but it clung to him growing, the desire for you.

"You're perfect." Murmured against your skin, intoxicated by your scent and your little moans. He pressed his body against yours in the perfect way for his erection to press against your center.

"Holy crap."

Those words on your lips sounded very wrong, but exciting to Jacaerys.

Just to fuck you he repeated it again, this time deeper, making your body tremble feeling it against you, he also couldn't help moaning against your skin when he pressed his hips against your legs open for him. He reached for your other leg taking you in his arms, started walking in the direction of his perfectly laid bed, you kept kissing him with euphoria, addicted to the sensation between your legs that he unleashed by touching you. Your thighs squeezed his body imprisoning him, one of your shoes had fallen somewhere on the way to the bed. Your brother sat with you on his lap, put one knee on each side of him, lying on his tense body.

"I can't take you, sister." He said caressing your waist, his labored breathing making it difficult to speak so neatly. "I can't do that to you."

You kissed his neck hungry for pleasure, ignoring his words full of reason. "I want you, Jace, you have to do it, not another."

Jacaerys closed his eyes clenching his fists over your dress as the prince heard you so needy, he was trying to push you away being useless, your kisses following a meaningless path.

"You are my downfall." He confessed enjoying your lips claiming his skin. He hugged you tightly around the waist, preventing you from pulling away too far.

"I think I like the sound of it." You responded with your lips millimeters from his, the heat of his breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

And, fuck, it felt better than it sounded.

Jacaerys leaned into you and his lips finally met yours in a deep and passionate kiss. His hands on your back pulling tight against him as he deepened the contact and his tongue sought to enter your mouth again. You opened your mouth for him like the first time, he felt you lose control as you complied with his command.

"We can do it... another way." Jacaerys said breaking the kiss. He watched you for an eternal moment, your face flushed, your dark eyes with dilated pupils, your swollen mouth ajar desperate to keep quenching your thirst for him. Jace touched your face arranging a lock of crossed hair, your skin was burning, imagining his was similar. The heir was dying to make you his at that moment, had waited too long, but he couldn't disrespect his only sister like that. He felt walked into the abyss playing with your virtue and maidenhood wanting to take it knowing it wasn't right.

"What?" you asked with furrowed brows.

"Do you trust me?"

"T-tell me what you want me to do."

Did you want to kill him by hesitating like that? Jacaerys questioned, if only you had any idea of the effect you have on him, that he would give you anything to have you around.

"I want you to stay exactly here…" His hands found your hips underneath your dress, holding you tightly on bare skin, anchoring you to him like two pieces fitting together perfectly. You were comfortable in that position where you could feel a hard nub pressing against your sensitive center, Jacaerys moved your hips over his body slowly re-activating the sensation between your legs that ran up your body like a shiver. "Do it."

His imperative tone made you feel pressured to live up to expectations, wanted to make him feel the same way you were experiencing.

With your knees sinking onto the mattress you moved back and forth carefully feeling his length, never took your eyes off him at any moment too attentive to his reactions, the prince let out a deep sigh as your folds brushed against his throbbing erection for you. Jacaerys felt a surge of desire as you began to move over him gaining more confidence, the slow deliberate friction sent shivers down his spine. His hands on your waist held you steady not letting you go anywhere because that was your place, he encouraged your movements guiding you against him, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched you with burning eyes.

"It feels... good." You said with heavy breathing. You didn't understand the reason, but you couldn't complain, the rubbing between your legs against him wasn't something imagined possible.

"Gods, you have no idea." The prince murmured hoarsely and strained from the effort to contain his growing need to penetrate you if kept speaking in that dulcet tone of voice.

You were so wet that the fabric of Jacaerys' pants was immediately stained by you, you were so ready for him, but Jace was clear with his condition not to take your innocence. You leaned on his shoulders swaying faster rubbing your cunt against his member trapped in his clothing, a torturous but necessary barrier. With you on his lap the prince unraveled the simple ribbon on your back by simply pulling one end of a silk bow, taking the audacity to pull it down just enough to leave your breasts uncovered as you continued to sway your hips increasing the pace guiding by desire.

"I... I c-can't, Jace." You groaned clinging to his shoulder in desperation, your legs were starting to tire but it was the feeling taking over your body that wouldn't let you think straight, unaware of yourself. "Jace-" asked him for help sure he knew what to do.

"Like this… just… a little more." Gasped watching you so perfect on top of him, he wasn't going to be able to get you out of his mind nor did he know how many sluts he was going to need to satiate his desperate need to fuck you. He squeezed your ass leaving marks on your skin, your round breasts moving to your rhythm made him want to take them in his mouth once and for all, he looked at you one last time, the rubbing on his member only made him desperate, brought his mouth close to one of your breasts sucking just out of desire to see your reaction. You were fucking delicious.

"Jacaerys!" You called out to him, closing your eyes tightly. The warm sensation of his tongue circling your nipple made you move faster, claiming him for his foul play.

The correct prince heir could barely form a coherent thought as you spoke when you rode him like the wildest of the dragons, the sound of your broken voice sending another wave of desire through his tortured body.

"Just-a little more... Stay like this." He begged desperately for your mercy. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, guiding you against him, the friction between you was wet and delicious at the same time with a forbidden touch that only made it better. Your folds fit perfectly with his member, spanning his entire hard length, you opened your eyes for a moment finding your brother with his jaw tense and his head back as if instead of enjoying it he was suffering from his desires. For a second, you questioned where Jacaerys had learned to do these things, how long he had kept himself under the mantle of the right prince devoted to duty.

"Like this?" you asked innocently. The prince moaned at your question as the only way to communicate, he was ecstatic under your legs, grip on your hips tightened burying his fingers leaving marks. This time, the innocent tone of voice didn't fool him for a second, he could see the same spark of mischief and desire in your eyes.

You could ride him as many times as you wanted and he would find it insufficient, it was just a way of not feeling so guilty about what you were doing. He was so needy especially for you that he was about to give in to his orgasm just at the thought of pulling down his pants releasing his desire by sliding into your tight interior.

Jacaerys felt himself losing control, right now he didn't care at all if the door opened right now and he was found taking immoral pleasure in you. The feel of your body against his was something he had only fantasized about, the way you rode him letting out gasps at every movement, it was driving crazy. His hands roamed your body as if this was the last time, caressing it gently and squeezing it possessively, his breath hitching against your skin was the sign that he was about to come.

"You feel so good, love. So fucking good…" He murmured almost angrily, in a voice charged with desire you'd never heard coming out of him before, now his hips moved involuntarily in time with your movements. Couldn't get enough of you, he wanted you.

"I can... feel you." You said resting your forehead on Jace's who kept his eyes closed holding his release from giving you the pleasure you deserved. The truth of your statement was hard to ignore, the reaction of his body to you was undeniable. You could feel him very hard beneath you.

"Yes… you can feel me, sister…. I can't take it… not when you're like this…"

"But I want to feel you." Your request was only adrenaline for Jacaerys who obedient to your wishes lifted his lap with you on top so hard you had to stop to take it in, you felt his member harder than ever trying to enter being stopped by the fabric, this time you moaned differently, it was a different adrenaline. You squeezed your legs tighter taking in the sensation. "More."

"I'll give you anything you want… just… please…" he gasped with difficulty. "Don't stop."

You had become his most precious and wrong object of pleasure. Your brother let out another strangled moan, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands on your hips gripping tightly as he held on to the tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him. It was the first time Jacaerys had ever cared about female pleasure, specifically yours, wanting to give you the best with what little he had to offer at that moment.

"Oh, Jacaerys!" You exclaimed in a high pitched tone squeezing his shoulder, legs shaking moving fast on top of him so much it burned, Jacaerys lifting his hips in response only dragged you to orgasm, the friction of your body on him was driving him mad making question the fragility of his morals at the thought of taking you as his right there and then and stop fucking himself. Desperately knowing that at some point it was going to end, you sought his mouth to kiss him, however, both of you moaned echoing in your mouths waiting for the other to give in to let you go together. Jacaerys bit your lower lip trapping it between his teeth forcing you to stay close, he wanted to look into your eyes as you fell into sin, your hot skin was red from the effort and the rising pleasure rising from between your legs until a string of higher and higher pitched cries escaped your mouth as you reached the peak of pleasure, your body stopped moving over the prince falling in surrender and exhaustion. Jace let out a deep moan as he watched you reach orgasm feeling his crotch wet but satisfied.

You lay silently on top of him resting on his body, Jacaerys lifted your dress covering your nakedness. Your breathing needed regulating as you felt short of breath and heavy, the heir merely admired you, kissing your neck like a treasure that would soon dissolve from his hands.

"We have to report to the Council." You whispered, delighting in your brother's lips with the same guilt as at first time. "Our absence will arouse suspicion."

"I know… just one more minute." His arms still held you tightly against him, not wanting to let go just yet. He closed his eyes as you rested your cheek against his shoulder, inhaling deeply to take in your natural scent. "I cannot present myself in these conditions."

You laughed under your breath. The moment of calm disappeared when the door to Jacaerys' chambers rang another time. They didn't catch a glance as you immediately stood up and fixed your dress, your hands trembling as you tried to tie the damn knot but your fingers were so clumsy that Jace had to help you.

"One moment, please!" the prince shouted, fixing the messy hair he had been stroking for the last few minutes. The door rattled again, making them both desperate making the adrenaline rush through their blood again. "Just a moment!" Jacaerys repeated so angrily that even you were startled, he grabbed your hand pulling you with him to the door asking you to stand behind it. Your body trembled with fear, what if it was the queen seeking her heir and entering the chambers? They were a mess, their clothes gave them away, even the bed showed their sins. Jace approached your face as slowly as the soft whisper came from his mouth. "You have to be quiet, do you understand?" You nodded immediately, he couldn't resist leaving one last kiss taking advantage of the closeness.

He opened the door to find lady Baela Targaryen, his betrothed.

"Are you well?" She asked with genuine concern for Jacaerys. When you heard his voice, you had to cover your mouth with one hand to keep from saying anything.

"I feel... better, thank you."

The silence that fell was so uncomfortable you'd rather faint than have to endure it. Seconds which guilt took hold of your body.

"Are you coming to the Stone Table?"

"Sure… I just need a second." Her answer sounded so matter-of-fact that Baela nodded, but deep down she felt that something didn't sit right with Jacaerys. "I'll introduce myself in a moment."

"Have you seen your sister? I'm worried about her state of mind after her brothers left."

You closed your eyes praying to the gods to get you out of that horrible situation once and for all. Jacaerys had to lie in a way he was going to feel guilty about for the rest of his life. He shook his shoulders appearing carefree and confident.

"Did you look in the sky? She must be with her dragon, I assure you, my sister is a very good rider."

[skzdarlings]

i do ; skz ; felix x reader

requested by anonymous: ' I would love if you could use these prompts...on Felix x fem reader:❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜I love possessive Felix, istg i would give amything to have him' plus two anonymous requests for: 'i'd say you need someone to put you in your place' for felix.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: look this request was for possessive!felix and so possessive!felix i delivered. he is a little weirdo in this tbh. but i think after all my anti-rich-guy stories, i have earned the right for one problematic possessive mafia boss who throws his money and his dick around hahaha. so yes, possessive!felix, virgin!reader, wedding night, arranged marriage, felix being a criminal boss, insta-love. reader's backstory involves a verbally abusive/neglectful family. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

-

Your new husband is astoundingly pretty.   You expected a different face to be waiting at the end of the wedding aisle: harsh, old, scarred.  Maybe, if you let yourself fantasize, he would be handsome in a rugged way. 

You were not expecting Felix.  Slender, delicate Felix with his high cheekbones and freckles, his dark eyes and feather-soft blonde hair.  He smiled a dimpled smile as your father surrendered your hand. 

That surrender was a visual representation of a literal transaction.  You were a bartering tool to save your father’s business.  You knew an arranged marriage was inevitable when a few trades went sour and the company went bankrupt.  The family could only maintain relevancy and safety through a match to someone more powerful. 

Lee Felix is the heir to a very dirty criminal syndicate that blends in high society.  Everyone knows their money is blood-spattered, but they throw a good party and the jewels sparkle the same.

You knew his name long before the wedding.  Of course you knew his name.  But you did not know his face.  You expected a devil, not a vision of divinity, resplendent in white and gold. 

Your heart has not stopped racing since he first lifted your veil and kissed you with lips softer and gentler than your grandest fantasies. 

Now you are perched on a lavish bed in a beautiful penthouse suite.  The walls are windows, externally tinted but offering you a glorious view of the glittering cityscape at night.  You wonder how much of the city your new husband owns. 

Would that be an impertinent question?  It is not as though there is any real charade to play; this is not a love match and there is no sense pretending otherwise.  Enquiring after financial assets is arguably appropriate insofar as business goes. 

Then the door opens and your new husband enters.  All thoughts of business flitter into nothing, an insignificant detail next to your wedding night.  A night with this powerful and beautiful stranger.

“Are you nervous?” he asks in a voice so deep it keeps surprising you.  It suits his angelic appearance in a way, something so captivating about its low tones, effortlessly melodic.  But that melody is coloured darkly in its depth, scratching a shiver up your spine.  When he speaks, it feels like he is trailing his fingers up your back in a curious, searching touch. 

He looks at you with as much depth, dark eyes penetrating as he circles the bed.  He has been nothing but polite, but you can’t help but feel like prey being circled by a predator. 

Even more concerning, you can’t help but like it.  Since the moment he took your hand, his eyes have not left you.  It is almost overwhelming.  You have been invisible your whole life.  No one ever looked at you.  No one ever wanted you.  Your father scared off anyone who tried. 

Felix is not just anyone.  Anyone sensible would be scared of him.

You are also not just anyone. 

“No,” you answer.

“Really?”  He lifts a curious eyebrow. 

You are both in your wedding clothes, all white and gold.  Your veil is draped over a chair in the corner.  He puts his coat there too. 

He never looks away from you, rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms as he approaches the bed.

“May I ask, why not?” he asks.  It’s a funny question, so polite but only posed because he knows his own reputation.  He knows what you must think of him.  The bloodshed, the ruthlessness, the merciless command he holds over his family’s legacy.  He might look unassuming, but he is not to be trifled with.  That gentle exterior could be unnerving to some people, even more than an outward brute. 

But you have dealt with those brutes your whole life.  An abusive father, cruel brother, an uncaring mother.  Hurt, neglected, ignored. 

Tonight, while you circled the reception to greet everyone, your father and brother pulled you aside.  Your mother had already berated you on the details of your appearance, but they were reprimanding you for every other misstep.

You almost burst into tears, tired and frightened.  You were so afraid you would never escape them.  Even at your wedding, on the cusp of a new life, they were dragging you around, kicking and screaming.

Then you felt a tap on your shoulder.  Bang Chan, one of Felix’s most trusted agents, stood there with a forced but cordial smile.  He looked at you and not your family. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said.  “Your husband is asking for you.  Please, come with me.”

Your father sputtered indignantly, unaccustomed to such blatant disrespect for his authority.  Chan said nothing to him, simply offered you his arm.  He also opened his jacket to flash the gun in his chest holster.  Your family had their weapons stripped before entering the reception.  It was a subtle reminder of who was really in charge. 

So your father and brother were left sputtering helplessly as Chan escorted you across the room.  Felix was sitting with some of his men, smiling his bright smile and looking like any happy young groom. 

That sunny face faltered when he saw your morose expression.  His glance passed to your family, a flicker of anger in his gaze.  Then he smiled at you and held out a welcoming arm. 

“Come here,” he said.  “Sit with me a bit.  Please.” That deep voice.  You felt it like a touch inside you. He had recited the scripted vows earlier.  This invitation was his first real address. 

You nodded.  Your legs were shaky from the confrontation, never mind the wobble from your heels.  Your feet hurt.  Sitting would be a relief if nothing else. 

There was an empty seat behind Felix.  It was the type of seat you were usually given: at the back where you could be forgotten. 

Once you were within reach, Felix grabbed you around the waist.  Your breath caught as you stumbled towards him.  He caught you and held you.  Then you were sitting in his lap, your dress draped everywhere, a glittering ivory prize perched safe and pretty on his knee.  He wrapped a possessive arm around your middle. 

It was more than a power play.  It was one thing to put you on his lap and show your family that he owned you now, but it was another for him to frown as he touched the painfully tight pearl belt around your waist. 

“Why is this so tight?” he asked, looking at you with concern.     

“I’m sorry,” you said automatically, in the habit of grovelling whenever someone took a disappointed tone.  “My mother,” you spoke softly, not wanting the rest of the table to hear. 

He leaned closer to you, offering you his ear directly.  A whisper was all you managed, unaccustomed to such attention.

“They’re real pearls,” you whispered.  “Very expensive.  Very fine.  Too fine for me.  My mother had the belt made small so I would remember to act worthy of them.  Sit straight.  Not over-eat.  You know.”

He frowned, his brow furrowing.  Instinct compelled you to soothe that displeasure, laughing like you were not upset.

“It’s all right,” you said.  “She’s right.  They are very fine pearls.”

“It’s not all right,” Felix said.  He looked at you, held your gaze in his own.  You found yourself counting his freckles.  “Do you like it?” he asked. 

Maybe it was his display of power.  Maybe it was his arm around you.  Maybe it was the freckles.  He looked so sweet, so sincere.  You could not bring yourself to lie.  Though you had defended your cruel family all your life, the truth fell from your lips in a rough exhale. 

“No.”  You felt tears in your eyes.  “I know it’s expensive.  I know it’s beautiful.  But I’ve never hated anything more.” 

He held your gaze, your watery eyes in the dark depths of his own.

Then he grabbed the belt by a thin material strand and yanked.  A couple pearls popped right off and scattered.  The rest dangled on the belt, an absurd amount of wealth in his hand. 

Felix tossed it over his shoulder like it was garbage. Then he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you against him. 

You chanced a look at your family.  They were scandalized.  Horrified.  And you breathed easier for the first time in a long time. You have long suffered the oppressive strangle of control masquerading as love.  His protective arm felt nothing like that pearl belt.

So you look at him now.  You strive to articulate all these feelings.  You are not used to speaking and having someone listen. 

“I can’t explain it,” you say.  “Maybe it’s foolish.  But I… I just feel like I was meant to be here.  With you.  Like this.”

Your heart jumps at his expression, a luminous pleasure that brightens this dimly lit room. 

“That’s funny,” he says.  “I feel the same way.”

You swallow as he sits beside you.  Slowly, touch by touch, breath by breath, he is bringing your bodies together.  His knee touches yours, his arm your arm.  He folds his hands in his lap but he is close enough you can count his freckles again. 

“I need to be honest with you,” he says.  “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.  A year ago.  At the winter masquerade.”

You look at him with surprise.  All at once, his eyes come back to you, gazing at you behind a golden bird mask at the annual winter social.  You couldn’t place the handsome stranger at the time.  His hair was dark then, his face in a mask.  He did not speak.  His distinctive voice would have given him away. 

He danced one dance with you, the only person who danced with you all night.  You were later reprimanded for behaving like a slut, even though he touched your waist and nothing more.

“You were very kind,” he says.  “I watched you with the staff.  You were the only one in that whole room to say please and thank you to them – did you know that?”  He sighs and looks away, thoughts travelling beyond this room.  “I came from nothing,” he says.  “My family… we fought to get where we are now.  But I remember, you know.  What it feels like to be the smallest and least important person in the room.”

You sit straighter when he looks at you.  Oh, your heart has not slowed its thunder.  Excitement and affection swirl together in a motley tempest of sensation, touched by his words and yearning for more.  You thought you had been sold to an uncaring bidder, but Felix touches you slowly, like he would a very fine work of art.  His knuckles caress your cheek, the slope of your jaw. 

“I thought…” He looks at you reverently.  “I thought… I would do anything to preserve that goodness.  I would protect it.  Like your family wasn’t.”  His brow furrows now, a shadow of his face.  “They would have ruined you.” 

His hand continues, knuckles skimming down your throat, your shoulder, your arm.  You shiver.   He has a terrible scar, scoring the whole back of his hand.  A stark difference to your unblemished hand, your manicured nails against his calloused fingers. 

He says, “I know what it’s like to be ruined.”

You look from your hands to his face, his handsome profile, the slope of his nose and his soft lips.  He is still looking at your joined hands. 

“I wasn’t always like this,” he says.  “I’d give anything to have my innocence back.  But I can’t.”

He lifts your hand, cradles it between both of his like something precious.  Your breath catches when he kisses your palm, lips soft against your skin.  

“So I told myself, I would do anything to save yours,” he says.  He looks almost… afraid.  An expression you never expected to see on this man.   “So I destroyed your father’s business,” he says.  “It was all me.  I knew he would never give you to a man like me unless he had no choice.  He would have given you away to one of his friends and they would have broken you.  But you were already mine.  So I left him no choice but to see things my way.” 

“Oh,” you say, surprised beyond all words. 

“I wanted you to know before anything… happens… between us,” he says.  “But I understand if your feeling are complicated.  Or if you… fear me.”

Your father has often boasted how many men fear him.  It does not sound like a boast from Felix, rather something lamentable.  His face is shadowed in shame. 

“My feelings are not complicated,” you say.  He is still holding your hand in both of his.  You lay your other hand there, a complete joining. 

He meets your gaze, an intense and imploring stare.

“I’m not my father’s daughter anymore,” you say.  “I’m my husband’s wife.  My loyalty is to you.  My place is with you.”

“Yes,” he says, spoken on a breath.  His smile returns.  “Your place.  I’d say you need someone to put you in your place.  Your rightful place.” 

He springs off the bed like there is lightning under his feet.  He is all smiles and sunlight again, a beacon in the blue dark of this room.  You cannot help but bask in his warmth, bereft in the chill when he leaves your side. 

He takes something from his discarded coat pocket, a case swathed in velvet, soft to the touch.  You hold it, admiring the texture.

He kneels behind you on the bed while you open it.   Inside is the most breathtaking necklace you have ever seen in your life.  When you lift it, the chain is long, designed to sit low, loose around your neck.  No more chokers.  No more pearls. 

“Oh, Felix,” you say, breathless and amazed, then very embarrassed.  You are not used to such lovely gifts.  Even the pearls were a punishment.  “I can’t accept this…” you say, stunned.

“You can,” he says. 

He takes the clasp then strings the necklace around you.  His fingers on the nape of your neck have you shivering.  The necklace clasps in place, then his lips are on your neck, a chaste press that nonetheless lights fire under your skin.  “It was made for you,” he says.  “Like you were made for me.” 

He takes the zipper of your gown between two careful fingers, so slowly lowering it.  It feels like you are unravelling with it.  The zipper reaches the base of your spine and his fingertips dance across your bare skin. 

He steps off the bed.  He looks down at you, his eyes intense but his smile soft.  He touches your cheek, strokes his thumb across it lovingly. 

Then he is sinking to his knees in front of you.  You already feel weak as jelly, but your whole body goes soft and pliant when he gently grasps your ankle, when he slides your painful shoe off your foot and tosses it aside.  He somehow finds every sore spot and rubs it better. 

“This is how it works,” he says.  He is on his knees but somehow his presence looms bigger than you.  You cannot look away from the thrall of his gaze.  “You are my wife.  And when we are out there, I am your servant.”  He takes your other foot and removes that shoe as well.  He massages you gently.  “I will never deny you anything,” he says.  “You can ask me for anything. All right?  I will give you the whole world.  I will give you my whole heart.  In return, I only want one thing.”

“What’s that?” you ask, already breathless.

“I am your husband,” he says, “and in here, you are my servant.  Only I can touch you.  Only I will have you.  All of you.  In every way.  Always, starting from today.  Starting from right now.”    

“Yes.  Yes.  But I – I’ve never done this before,” you say, aching to surrender but fearful he will regret this.  Though you are knowledgeable, you are lacking in experience from years of isolation.  “I’ve been alone for so long,” you say.  “I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You don’t,” he says.  He lifts your leg, swoops down to kiss your calf, then higher: your knee, your thigh.  “You could never,” he says, guiding your leg to rest on his shoulder.  He gathers the volume of your wedding dress in his hands and pushes it up, up. 

You almost forget to breathe.  He kisses higher on your thigh.  Then he grabs the thin material of your white tights and rips them open.

“You’re mine,” he says.  “You’ve always been mine.” 

You fall back on your elbows, limbs already quivering as he tears through your underclothes as if impatiently ripping open a prettily wrapped gift.   With your expensive lace panties shredded and your tights in tatters, he pushes your skirts up and out of his way.  You hold them while he kisses up your thigh.  He runs his tongue along the seam between your thigh and somewhere much more sensitive. 

“No one else has done this to you?” he asks.  He already looks flushed.  Desperate.      

“No,” you answer.  You swallow hard.  “Never.”  You know some men do not enjoy providing this type of pleasure to their wives, so you are about to tell him that you have no expectations in that regard—

But then he is on you like a starving man, eyes closed and mouth open and licking through all that wet desire.  You fall on your back, pressing your heel into his back.  He groans, pressing deeper, tongue seeking, swiping, stroking. 

He grips your thighs possessively, holding you in place as he ravages you with his mouth.  He takes you up and over a blissful crest.  It leaves you a drenched and panting mess. 

He stands, wiping his arm across his wet mouth.  He does not look satisfied, eyes still hungry as he climbs on top of you. 

“My wife,” he says, like the word is sacred and impossible, like he thought a man like him could never say it.  “All mine,” he says, running his hands up your thighs, up your waist, touching every inch of you until he is cradling your face delicately in his careful but calloused hands.   

It makes your whole body clench up tightly, your breath stuttering as he kisses you.  You melt into the kiss, so different from the chaste peck of your ceremony.  It is a claiming kiss, the taste of you still on his lips, his moan in your mouth, his chest against yours as those sounds of pleasure rumble through him. 

He tugs down your bodice, then he is ripping through your underclothes again.   When your bodice is around your waist and your chest is bare except for his necklace, you find yourself covering your breasts instinctively.  He takes your hands, not forcefully but firmly, holding your gaze.  His mouth is already so pink and raw from kissing.  You wonder if you look as ravished.  Maybe more.  It makes you whimper, surrendering when he pins your hands on either side of your head. 

“This is mine,” he says, kissing your jaw, your throat, then lower.  “All mine, sweetheart.”

He wraps his lips around a pointed nipple and you feel the reaction between your legs, as if connected by a thread.  Your legs try to close around his hips but he presses down.  The crumpled skirt of your dress is between you, but he feels your thighs clenching, feels you desperately bucking. 

Even his chuckle is a deep sound.  He smiles at you, batting his eyelashes as he licks the curve of your breast.  Your whole body twitches again. 

“Mm,” he says.  “You feel that?  You getting all tight… and hot… just for me…”

“Felix,” you say, you beg.

He sits back on his heels to get your wedding dress off.  It is a flurry of ivory and silk, earning some laughter, then it is gone and your husband is staring down at you.   Again, you feel like prey, like a meal spread out helplessly for some predatory creature.  Again, you like it. 

He is just as impatient with his own clothes.  He does not look away from you while tearing his shirt open.  Buttons fly, forgotten, and he rips the material down his arms and off.  His belt is next, leather whistling through the air then joining the heap on the floor.  He grabs your hand and guides it to the hard shape in his white pants, groaning deep in his chest as your palm curves around it. 

You are so captivated him, by the way he feels, by the sounds he makes, that you are surprised when he touches you too.  Your legs part instinctively, then your thighs twitch to close when you are embarrassed by your eagerness. 

“Don’t be shy,” he says.  “Not with me.” His fingers feel divine inside you, gliding as if through silk, pressing at your walls and making you whimper.  “Yeah, my baby.  So nice… ‘n wet… for me…” he murmurs, more to himself than you. It still makes you clench, like your body wants him deeper, pulling tight around him.   “God.  Perfect.” 

“Aren’t we g-gonna—”  Your eyes drop to his waistband, then up to his eyes again. 

He smiles, laughs, and withdraws his fingers slowly. 

“Oh yeah, sweetheart,” he says, unbuttoning his pants.  “We are.  Be patient.  You’re gonna enjoy this.  Gonna remember this night forever.”  He leans down so his body is over yours.  He kisses you, presses you into the pillows.  When he pulls back, he traces a finger along the necklace, smiling brightly. “The first time I made you mine,” he says, speaking low and soft against your lips.   “I’m going to do everything with you,” he says.  “And you’re gonna want it.  All of it and more.” 

He has you begging for more already.  When he finally is pushing inside you, after so much torturous build-up, you are a breathless, sweaty tangle of limbs.  It feels like he is pinning you to the mattress, taking you so deep and so hard, like your whole body is changing to fit him.   There is a long, slow burn, but you are so wet and he is so careful; it is an ache that gives way to pleasure. 

His arms are around you, holding him above you, making you feel so completely shielded and enveloped.  He starts a slow pace that turns more frantic.  Your hands move all over his chest and shoulders to find a grip. 

“I love that no one else has seen you like this,” he says, grabbing your searching hand.  He brings it to his mouth, kisses your palm, your fingers.  He puts your hand on his shoulder, then he slides his hand under your head to cup your neck, holding you steady while he rolls his hips into yours.  “That no one else has felt you before,” he says.  “Been inside you. They don't get to have you, but I do.“

“Yes,” you say.  “Always.  My husband.” 

“Mm.”  He drops his forehead to yours.  “My wife.” 

You come again but it feels different, starting deep inside you and rolling outward, a full-body spasm that has you crying out his name.  He comes too, holding you against him, his lips on your neck as he says your name. 

Then he kisses you.  Then he lays you down.  He wraps you in his arms and squeezes. 

“Sleep for now,” he says.  “It’s been a long day.  And I want you again.”

“You have me,” you say, nestling in his arms, your head under his chin. 

“Yes,” he says with a smile.  He looks so sweet even while his wicked hands hold your body in a strong, possessive grip.  “I do.”      

[w4ndal0ver]

Members Only (Agatha x Reader) [Part 1]

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: milf!tennis!agatha x student!lifeguard!reader

summary: When Agatha notices you've been watching her play tennis every day from your lifeguarding chair, she offers you tennis lessons, an offer which you can't refuse.

content warnings: nothing yet, just build up

word count: 4000

I also know nothing about tennis, I had no idea where this idea came from (I do, its the thought of Milf Agatha in a tennis skirt)

Members Only (Agatha x Reader) [Part 1]

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting golden hues over the country club pool, the warm rays slipping through the trees and shimmering against the water as the few swimmers created ripples as they completed lengths of the pool. From your perch high on the lifeguard chair, you had a view of the entire pool, including the sunbathers basking in the glow. This job was always slightly more interesting when there were children to actually look out for, but at this time of morning no one brought them along. You’d only been a lifeguard at The Westview Country Club for two weeks, wanting to be able to save up some money while you were back from college for the summer. While it could be pretty boring, there were definitely some perks to the job.

From your chair you could just about see the tennis courts in the distance, something that you’d realised was way more interesting than watching the same few people swim up and down the length of the pool. The sounds of the ball ricocheting off rackets and the sharp, breathless calls of the players drifted across the air. You squinted into the sunlight and as you expected, Agatha was there in the same tiny tennis skirt that she always wore, the outfit that drove you up the wall. She was alone today, playing against another club member - a man who, despite his best efforts, couldn’t seem to keep up. You felt a familiar stir of admiration as you watched Agatha’s powerful, fluid movements, her every strike and pivot executed with a grace that made your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. 

Her white tennis skirt fluttered with each swing, her toned legs flexing in rhythm with the force of her game. Her sweat-dappled skin caught the sunlight in a way that made her glow, every movement commanding attention. You couldn’t help but notice how well she fit into this world, this world of country clubs, exclusive memberships, and pristine courts. She belonged here, she usually sauntered confidently throughout the grounds, and you couldn’t help but keep your eyes trained on her. 

You’d always admired Agatha. She’d been your Mother’s best friend for as long as you could remember - always around during family gatherings, always kind but so incredibly elegant, with that same playful smirk that she wore now, even on the tennis court. But over the years, something had shifted. The innocent crush you’d once harbored as a teenager had slowly morphed into something far more consuming, something that you couldn’t ignore. 

And now, with every day you spent lifeguarding at the pool, watching her from afar, that longing had blossomed into a full-fledged fantasy. You’d caught yourself more than once, eyes lingering on her as she walked past the lifeguard station in her tennis gear, or when she’d casually from by the poolside, always making the time to check up on you, and every time she did your cheeks flushed scarlet to the point that you think Agatha must be playing on your reactions now. 

As Agatha’s match came to an end, the string of tense, rapid exchanges turning into a graceful final point, you shifted in your chair, your gaze still locked on her. She took a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Her brunette hair, usually so perfectly styled, was now tousled from the intensity of the game. But there was something about the way she looked, disheveled yet composed, that only made your own heart quicken at a pace that was yet unreached. She tossed her tennis racket into her bag, and you knew she was heading your way before she even looked up. 

It had been like this every day since the start of summer, you would watch her finish her early morning game and you’d sit back in your chair pretending that you’d not been watching her, brushing your own wisps of hair that had fallen from your updo back.

Agatha’s steps were slow but deliberate as she approached the poolside, her eyes flicking upward to meet yours, her hips swaying in that tiny skirt that you couldn’t help but glance at. A playful smile tugged at the corner of her lips, one you knew too well. It was the same smile she’d worn when she’d tease you as a kid. 

“Busy up there?” She asked, her voice light and teasing, like she already knew the answer. She tilted her head back slightly, looking up at you as if she was taking her time to study you. Her gaze lingered on you in a way that made the corners of your lips twitch and the look she gave you made you understand that she found something amusing in the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the sudden attention, and forced a smile. “Oh you know, the usual,” You said, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably, “Just keeping an eye on things.” You gestured to the calm pool, the stillness that filled the space between the two of you. 

She hummed in acknowledgement, her gaze flicking over the pool for a moment before returning to you, “Mm, must be pretty dull up there all day,” She said, her words dripping with playful mockery. “Just sitting up there, I bet you get so bored,” She raised an eyebrow, the slight curve of her mouth betraying the way she was enjoying the effect she had on you.

You fidgeted with the whistle around your neck, suddenly self-conscious, wishing you could hide behind the safety of the high chair that had always been a buffer between you and everyone else. “I don’t mind,” you mumbled, your voice coming out softer than you’d intended. “It’s peaceful, I guess.”

Agatha let out a soft laugh, the sound making your pulse spike. “Peaceful, huh?” she said, her tone laced with amusement. “Seems like the kind of thing someone would say when they’re just waiting for something to happen. But then again,” she paused, eyeing you up and down, “maybe you don’t mind the stillness. You get to watch everything, don’t you?” Her voice dipped a little lower at the end, as if the words were meant only for you.

You swallowed, the heat creeping into your cheeks once more. You were certain that Agatha knew exactly what she was doing - playing this game with you, reading your reactions like an open book. The way she lingered, just close enough for you to smell the faint scent of her sweat mixed with her perfume, it was all just too much. 

“Anyway,” She continued, stepping back just a little, her hands resting on her hips as she glanced at the tennis courts in the distance, “Your mum was supposed to meet me this evening for a play around, but she cancelled on me.” Agatha explained, “So what do you say? Care to take a break from watching me play all day and actually play against me instead?” 

You heart skipped, you, on the court with Agatha. It felt like a fantasy, something completely out of your reach. You opened your mouth to protest the idea, knowing that being opposite her in that outfit would be way too much for you to handle, but the words get caught in your throat. “I don’t think so,” You say quickly, almost apologetically, “I’ve never played tennis before, not really.” 

A smirk tugged at her lips, “Oh you’ve never played?” Her tone was almost too sweet, as if the idea of teaching you was the plan all along, “Well that’s a shame, but I suppose I could teach you if you wanted.” Her eyes flicked back to you, her mouth dragging the words out, drawing attention to each one, as if she was savoring the thought of showing you something new.

You swallowed again, your mouth dry. “I’m not sure I’d be any good at it”

“I’ll go easy on you. But you have to promise me that you’ll come play. It’ll be fun I promise.” Her eyes twinkled with something dangerous and exciting, and you couldn't help but feel like you were on the verge of something you had no control over. 

You hesitated for a moment, your thoughts swirling with uncertainty and the sudden thrill of her offer. Finally, you nodded, your voice small but firm. “Fine, I’ll be there.” 

Agatha’s smile deepened, and she straightened up, letting the silence hang between you for a moment longer. “Good,” she said softly. “I’ll be waiting.”

And with that, she turned and started walking toward the courts, her hips swaying effortlessly with each step, her tennis skirt fluttering in the light breeze. You watched her go, your pulse still racing, and realized you might’ve just made a promise you weren’t quite ready to keep.

The rest of the day felt like a blur. Agatha had disappeared into the club’s main building not long after her invitation, leaving you to sit in the high lifeguard chair, mind spinning. The sound of her voice, her teasing smile, the way her body moved when she turned to walk away, every detail replayed in your mind over and over. You couldn’t stop thinking about the offer she’d made, the warmth in her eyes when she’d mentioned teaching you tennis.

It was ridiculous, right? You, playing tennis with Agatha. You didn’t even know the first thing about tennis. But something about the way she had said it made it seem almost inevitable, like she knew you'd come around. Her words lingered in the air, vibrating against your skin, making it feel like everything else had faded into the background. The only thing that mattered was her, and the way she made you feel.

You tried to focus on the pool, the few swimmers in the water now lazily stretching out their laps. But the thought of Agatha, flushed from her match, walking away with that knowing smirk made it impossible to concentrate. How had she done it? How had she managed to turn your entire world upside down with a few words, a couple of steps, and that teasing look? You’d never been so unsettled in your life.

Finally, your shift ended. You had a brief moment of respite before you had to face the inevitable. The thought of changing and heading over to the tennis courts made your stomach twist with nerves. You grabbed your bag and headed to the locker room. The sounds of muffled conversations and the hum of the air conditioning made you feel oddly detached as you changed into the only clothes you had brought with you—a pair of shorts and a baggy top that barely fit over your damp swimsuit. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, but there was no turning back now.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were nervous. Terribly nervous. Your fingers fumbled with the hem of your shirt as you glanced at yourself in the mirror. It wasn’t exactly tennis attire, and you could already picture Agatha’s teasing comment about how out of place you looked, but something deep inside you urged you to go anyway. You didn’t want to disappoint her, not after everything she’d said, not after that look she’d given you. Besides, you weren’t backing down now. You were going to play tennis with Agatha, even if you had no clue how to.

You took a deep breath, grabbed your water bottle, and made your way out the locker room door and towards the courts.

When you got to the tennis courts, there was no sign of Agatha yet. You stood awkwardly by the fence, clutching your water bottle, feeling every inch the outsider in your mismatched outfit. You could hear the faint thwack of tennis balls being hit in the distance, and when you rounded the corner, there she was, standing at the edge of the court, pulling a ball from her bag, her tennis skirt fluttering gently in the breeze.

The sight of her made your heart skip a beat. She looked even more effortlessly stunning up close, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail that framed her face perfectly, her posture confident as she adjusted the strings on her racket.

You swallowed hard, your stomach doing flips as she turned toward you, catching sight of you standing there.

“Well, well,” Agatha said, her eyes scanning you briefly, her lips curling into a smile. “You actually came.” There was a twinkle in her eyes, the same playful glint that always seemed to be there whenever she looked at you. “Not bad, considering this,” she motioned to your outfit, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “But I suppose it’ll do for now.”

You flushed but didn’t say anything, suddenly feeling very self-conscious as she walked over to you, tennis racket in hand.

“Ready to learn?” Agatha asked, her voice low and teasing, almost like a dare. You nodded, trying to keep your cool, but your mind was racing. There was something about the way she looked at you that made everything feel so much more intense.

“Let’s start with the basics.” She placed her hand lightly on your shoulder to guide you to the other side of the court, her fingers lingering just a moment too long. The touch sent a jolt through you that made your skin tingle. You barely managed to steady yourself as she positioned you correctly, stepping close enough that her breath brushed your ear.

Her hands hovered over your arms, adjusting your grip on the racket, her fingers brushing the skin of your wrist just a little longer than necessary. You couldn’t help but notice how warm her touch was, how the slight pressure of her hands on your body sent waves of heat through your chest. Her fingers slid down your arm, adjusting your posture just a little more. It felt almost like an intimate dance, the closeness making everything else fade into the background.

“You’ll need to get the ball over the net first,” Agatha said, her voice smooth and steady, but with that same teasing edge. “You don’t want to hit it into the net, or you’ll look like a real amateur.”

Her eyes locked with yours as she handed you the tennis ball. You could feel the weight of her gaze, the subtle pressure it created in the air between you. “Ready?” she asked softly, her lips curling at the edges.

You nodded, your throat dry. You tossed the ball in the air, trying to focus on her instructions, but when you swung your racket, it went completely off-target. You missed by a mile.

Agatha let out a soft laugh, and you felt your face flush. “Not quite,” she said, stepping closer, her body warm and solid beside yours as she moved behind you. “You need to angle your racket like this" Her breath was warm against your neck as her hands came to rest on your waist, guiding you into position. Her fingers lingered just a moment longer than necessary on your skin, and you stiffened, your heart pounding.

Her body was so close now, and the pressure of her hands on you made everything feel different. Intimate. You could feel her chest lightly brushing against your back, the heat of her body so palpable you felt like you were drowning in it.

“That’s better,” Agatha said, her voice low, her breath sending a shiver down your spine. “But now, you need to follow through with your arms.” She stepped even closer, if that was even possible, her body practically flush against yours. You could feel every inch of her as she moved, the soft fabric of her skirt brushing against your legs. Her hands moved from your waist to your hips, positioning you perfectly. “Let me show you,” she whispered, her voice like a velvet caress.

She placed her hands on the sides of your hips, guiding you as she demonstrated the motion, her body pressing into yours as she bent over your shoulder, her fingers brushing against your skin, lingering for just a second too long before she pulled back. You could feel the heat radiating from her, her closeness sending an electric current through you.

You couldn’t concentrate on the tennis lesson at all anymore. Every touch, every movement she made, was burning itself into your memory, making it impossible to focus on anything else but her. The way her hands lingered on you, the soft teasing in her voice—it was too much. You tried to clear your mind, but it felt like the air itself was thick with unspoken tension, with everything left unsaid between the two of you.

"Ready to try again sweetheart?" Agatha asked, pulling back just enough to give you space but still staying close enough that her presence was overwhelming. Her gaze never left yours as she handed you the ball again, her smile slow and suggestive.

“Alright,” you murmured, trying to push past the haze of nerves and desire swirling in your chest. “I’m ready.”

Agatha’s smile softened, that same teasing glint still in her eyes, but there was something else there now, something more intense. She took a step back, just enough to give you some space to swing the racket, but not far enough to lose that magnetic pull between you. “Good,” she said, her voice smooth, but with an edge that sent a thrill down your spine. “Now, show me what you’ve got honey.”

You tossed the ball into the air, trying to focus on the instructions she’d given you, but the whole world seemed to narrow down to just her, the scent of her perfume mixing with the fresh air, the soft rustle of her skirt as she moved. You swung the racket again, this time making contact, but the ball barely skimmed the top of the net and fell to the ground with a soft thud.

Agatha’s soft laugh rang out, and your face flushed. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, even though you knew she was just being playful. She took a few steps toward you, her heels clicking against the court, her eyes glinting with amusement.

“You’ve got a nice swing,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “But you’re not quite putting enough into it. Here let me help.”

Before you could protest, she was behind you again, her presence overwhelming as her hands moved to adjust your stance. She placed her hands on your hips, guiding you into position, her fingers grazing against your skin, sending a shockwave through your body. The closeness, the heat of her touch, made it nearly impossible to think straight. You could feel the rapid beat of your heart, the warmth spreading from her hands to the rest of you, the way your body seemed to react to her presence without your permission.

Her body brushed against yours as she leaned in, just enough for you to feel the soft pressure of her chest against your back. “Relax,” she murmured, her voice soft but commanding, as her fingers lightly traced the curve of your waist. “Just let go. It’s all about feeling the motion, not forcing it.”

Her breath was warm against your ear, and the scent of her—a mix of fresh linen and something floral—invaded your senses, making your pulse spike. You were hyper-aware of every part of her, her hands lingering on your skin for just a moment longer than necessary, like she was savoring the contact. You could feel the way her fingertips barely brushed the waistband of your shorts, a touch so light, but it was enough to make your body hum with awareness.

She shifted slightly, guiding your body into the right position, her fingers dancing across your skin like she was memorizing every inch of you. Her grip tightened just a little on your waist, and you felt a sharp jolt shoot through you. “There,” she whispered, her voice like silk, sending shivers down your spine. “That’s it. Now, try again.”

Your body was on autopilot as you tossed the ball into the air once more, trying to focus on her instructions, but all you could think about was her hands on you, the way they moved with such precision and care, the way her body was pressed so close to yours. The world seemed to fade away, and all you could hear was her soft, encouraging voice and the rhythmic sound of your own breath, fast and shallow.

You swung again, and this time, the ball soared over the net, landing neatly on the other side. You couldn’t help but let out a relieved breath, a small smile tugging at your lips as you looked back at her. “I did it.”

Agatha’s smile was slow and knowing, her eyes flashing with something unreadable. “See? I told you I’d teach you,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re a quick learner.”

Before you could respond, she was moving again, closing the space between you with that same fluid grace that made your heart race. “You know,” she said casually, her voice light, but there was an undercurrent of something more in it, something deeper, “it’s not just about hitting the ball. Tennis is about control, about using your body, your movements, to keep things in balance.”

Her hands rested gently on your shoulders, her fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your collarbone, the sensation of her touch making your breath catch. She was so close now, her body practically flush against yours. You could feel the heat from her, the steady rhythm of her breathing as she moved behind you once more. She wasn’t just guiding you anymore. She was positioning you, shifting your hips, your shoulders, all while her hands moved with such delicate precision that it was almost impossible to focus on anything but her.

The tension between you both was undeniable now. The air was thick, heavy with the weight of her presence, her touch, and her soft, teasing words. “Don’t tense up honey,” Agatha murmured as she positioned you to swing once more. “Let the movement come naturally.”

Her hands glided down your arms, her fingers lingering on your skin, tracing the muscles in your forearm with careful attention. Her touch was slow, deliberate, each contact sending a shockwave through your body. She wasn’t just teaching you tennis anymore. She was holding you, guiding you in ways that felt far more intimate than any lesson could.

You swung again, the ball landing in bounds, and Agatha smiled, her lips curling at the edges. “You’re doing so much better sweetheart,” she said, her voice smooth, but there was something more in it now, something that made your pulse quicken.

Agatha stepped back for a moment, her eyes never leaving you as she ran a hand through her hair, fixing her ponytail. “I think you’re ready,” She said, a playful glint in her eyes, “How about I book you in for some more lessons hon?” 

“I’d like that,” You say, your voice quieter than usual. 

Agatha’s smile widened, and she stepped closer again, her body coming into your personal space with the same casual grace that made your breath hitch. “I knew you would.” Her fingers brushed over your arm once more as she retrieved her racket from the ground, and for a moment, her touch lingered. “You’re a quick learner, I like that. But we’ll need to work on your form a bit more.”

Her hands slid over your shoulder, a warm, firm pressure that left a lingering warmth in its wake. “But don’t worry,” she continued, her voice low and almost seductive, “I’ll be here to guide you every step of the way.” Agatha moved back slightly, just enough to give you space to breathe. “I’ll make sure to go easy on you for your first real lesson. Just remember, I’m a patient teacher. But I don’t take too kindly to bad form, darling.” She grinned as she swiped her racket from the ground, the smooth movement making her look effortless, almost untouchable.

You nodded, still dazed, your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn’t decide whether to collapse from the tension or leap into the next lesson with her. It wasn’t just tennis anymore. It was something else entirely, something far more thrilling and dangerous than you’d ever expected.

“You can’t get better if you don’t keep trying,” she added with a wink, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of challenge and something far deeper.

Your gaze dropped to her lips, her teasing grin still there, and you felt the pull again. This wasn’t just about tennis, and you both knew it.

Agatha was playing a game, and you were already too far in to back out now. You nodded again, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. “I’ll be ready,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Good,” she replied with a soft, satisfied hum. “Right I could use a drink after that, the bar’s open for another hour, you coming?” 

You nodded quickly, the words coming easily. “Yeah, sure.”

You couldn't help but smile. Yeah, you thought to yourself with a little internal smirk. I’m sure I’ll be coming real soon.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You've given Bradley one job to do, and he's not quite sure how successful he has been. But he couldn't care less whether or not you're on birth control. Not when he's in love with his family. Not when there are so many other things starting to press on his mind.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley loved La Jolla. He loved this hotel. He loved the people that you and he became every time you stayed at this hotel. By Friday night, he'd eaten two seafood platters at the beachside restaurant, taken two naps on a blanket in the sand while you played with his hair, consumed a lot of your breast milk, and fucked you all over the hotel room.

"Let's call and check on Rose again," you mused, laying across Bradley's lap on the couch. He had his hand tucked inside the front of the fluffy, white robe you were wearing, gently caressing the soft underside of your breast and your belly. He had just finished making sure you didn't feel too full, and now you were yawning and snuggling up against his thigh.

"If you want to FaceTime your parents, we should get dressed."

"Why? I think the robes are fine," you said, gesturing to the matching one he was wearing that was a little too small on him. "It's not like they don't know what we're doing here."

Bradley felt himself blushing. He supposed anyone would make the same assumption, but he pulled your robe tight up to your neck and tied the sash anyway. As if that would ward off the idea that all he wanted to do for the rest of the weekend was fuck you until you couldn't walk.

"Okay, let's call and check on Rose."

A few seconds later, you were sitting next to him on the couch, and both of you were staring at your phone screen. Rose was on her play mat in the living room, holding her head up like a total boss, trying to reach Tramp.

"I swear she's almost crawling," your mom's voice said through the phone.

"She's only three months old!" you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Almost three and a half," Bradley supplied, pulling your phone closer to him. "I told you she's a damn genius."

"She is," your mom said. "She holds the bottle by herself when we feed her, and she reaches for the pages in her board books when she likes the colors."

"See?" Bradley asked you, gesturing like he was right all along.

"And she's just adorable, too," your mom gushed, moving the phone closer to Rose's face. "Such a sweet baby. Just like you were."

"An adorable genius," Bradley reiterated, making you bury your face against his neck while you laughed. "Everything's going okay there?"

"Of course," your mom promised. "Dad's taking a little nap so he can do the nighttime feeding. He took Tramp for a long walk earlier. Rose has been eating like a pro. Everything is good. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

There was a hint of teasing in her tone while she said the last sentence, and Bradley cradled his face in his hand as you said goodbye and ended the call. 

"It's like she knows we did a bunch of dirty shit on the balcony last night," Bradley murmured.

"Do not start with me, Bradley. Dr. Morris knows you've had your cock in my ass because you can't keep your mouth shut."

"Oh," he said, immediately perking up. "Can we do that again? Zero risk of you getting pregnant even if I don't pull out."

Your lips were all over his even as you laughed. "I didn't bring the fancy lube. It's probably on my nightstand with my pill pack."

He wanted to suggest he knew how to get you so wet you would be fine without the fancy lube, but he wasn't about to press his luck or hurt you. And now he was distracted as you yanked at the sash securing his robe before kissing your way down his chest. "Okay," he grunted, watching your every move. "I like this, too." Your wide eyes were aimed up at his as you trailed your tongue down along his abs and settled on the floor between his legs. You let your cheek rest on his thigh, close enough to his hardening cock that he could feel your breath when you spoke.

"I have an idea."

"Jesus," he whispered, licking his lips as yours grazed his sparse leg hairs. "Tell me, Baby Girl," he coaxed, running his knuckles softly along your cheek. "Anything you want is what we'll do."

Your lips brushed his balls, warm and deliberate, and a shiver surged through his spine like electricity. A low groan escaped before he could stop it. His eyelids fluttered shut, head tipping back as you kissed him delicately.

"How about we get drunk on champagne and mess around for the rest of the night?"

He cracked his eyes open. You were waiting for an answer, but you'd never rush him when it came to this. He didn't love the idea of drunk sex. Consent was important to him, especially because of the manner in which he'd lost his virginity. But you were the only woman he ever trusted with his whole heart, and he knew you would never take advantage of him.

"Change drunk to tipsy, and you've got yourself a deal, Sweetheart."

----------------------------

You kept tugging your robe shut while Bradley kept trying to discreetly open it further. "Roo," you whispered on a laugh, perched with your legs straddling his lap.

"Hmm?" His own robe had been discarded behind him on the couch, and he was holding a chilled bottle of champagne against your thigh while he sucked on your neck. His mustache was sinful, and his thick cock was heavy against your core. "You're so pretty." He flashed his brown eyes up at you. "I love you so much. Why you trying to hide those titties from me?"

Oh, he was definitely a bit tipsy now, but so were you. Getting him to mess around like this was always a bit of a hard sell, and you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. But he really turned you on when his lips loosened up a bit. It was always a perfectly mixed combination of sweet sentiments and dirty talk, and you ate it right up.

This time, when he tried to nudge open your robe with his nose against your collarbone, you let him. His eyes lit up as he pushed the sleeves down your arms. "That's better," he whispered as the fluffy fabric fell to the floor at his feet. He leaned back and took a long sip of champagne while he studied you with half lidded eyes. "Oh god. Sometimes I can't believe you married me." Your cheeks felt warm from the champagne as well as from his words as his cool fingertip traced your dainty rooster tattoo. "You didn't have this last time we were here."

You shook your head slightly. "That was your wedding gift."

One big hand slid down your back until he was cupping your ass, and he stood up in one fluid motion while you scrambled to hang on. "Bradley," you shrieked as he walked past the open balcony door and carried you all the way to the bathroom. "Where are we going?"

"I want to fuck my wife," he replied casually, setting you down on the marble counter. "Where we can get a little messy."

You shivered when he tipped the champagne bottle and let some of the bubbly drink trickle down your breasts and across your hard nipples. "It's so cold!" you complained, but his mouth smothered your words and you moaned. When you tried to squeeze your thighs together, he was wedged firmly between them. You were grabbing along the vanity, at his mercy, and you were so turned on.

"I want to fuck you," he repeated before another kiss left you reeling. Then he trailed sloppy kisses down to your breasts, licking away the sticky, bubbly mess. "I want to fuck you so hard, Sweetheart."

His cock was right at your opening, begging for entrance, but all you could do was whimper his name. Then there was more cold champagne on your sensitive skin followed by his warm tongue. You were so turned on, you wanted to cry as you scooted closer to his body.

"Please?" Bradley begged as just the tip of his cock slipped inside you. His voice was like honey as he set the bottle down and wrapped his hand around your hip. "I'll make you feel so good," he crooned, staring at your lips while he stroked your tattoo. He pushed his cock a little deeper still and kissed your forehead.

"Fuck me, Bradley," you moaned as he held eye contact. You were a little tipsy and very needy at the moment as you added, "Hard."

You wrapped your calf around his hip, trying to get what he promised you, but instead you got another slow inch and his cool lips on your temple. Gently, he tipped your head back and whispered, "Are you sure that's what you want? Because you're allowed to have anything. I'll gladly give you anything."

"Why are you like this, Roo? You're sweet and so fucking dirty. Just fuck me."

You squealed when his big fingers dug into your thighs, guiding them further apart, watching the place the two of you were intimately connected. His gaze trailed slowly up your body to your face. "God, you are so fucking sexy," he whispered with a snap of his hips. He bottomed out as you reached for his shoulders to keep yourself steady. "You look like my little slut, the way you're taking me. But you're my wife, which is so much better."

Bradley's words were filthy, and his lips were soft and sweet. But his hands and the pace at which he fucked you were demanding and unrelenting. When his thumb found your clit, circling at a pace that left you breathless, your teeth began to chatter as your back arched. When you came for him, he slammed into you. He let you have him, hard. Breasts bouncing and voice jerky as he went all the way. Sweat beading on his brow as he moaned your name like he'd never get enough.

Your head was spinning with desire, and he went until he was gasping and grunting, using your body to coax him through his own orgasm. "I love you," he murmured breathlessly, his glistening cock still gliding in and out of your pussy before he pulled himself free, shooting cum all over you. The back of your head tapped the mirror as he kissed you just as hard as he'd fucked you.

When he finally let you breathe again, he whispered, "Somehow I love you even more now than the last time we were here."

-----------------------------

On Sunday morning, Bradley got carried away. There was no more champagne, and the two of you had been out late on the beach watching fireworks the night before. You were tired, and he was tired. But when he woke with your body nestled on top of him like usual, your lips were pressed to his neck, and your tits were leaking onto his chest.

"Fuck," he gasped softly. He'd already had you all to himself so many times this weekend, but he wanted one more. He stroked himself as he whispered your name, but you just snuggled in closer against him, working your lips along his skin. It just turned him on even more.

Sometimes he wondered what on earth happened to him that made him go from countless one night stands to a one woman kind of guy. Then you moaned his name, and your eyes fluttered open as you looked at him. Your pretty lips were parted, and your cheek had a soft imprint from cuddling against him. And you kissed him, replacing his hand on his cock with your own.

"Good morning," you whispered against his lips, and this was the reason why. You were all the reasons why.

"I need it," he whispered, and you settled on your back with your engorged breasts in your hands and let him have everything. He fucked you so slowly, barely moving as he drained your milk until you were comfortable. You combed his hair back from his forehead, in no hurry as he plucked at one nipple and then the other, nuzzling his way along your breasts. He rocked into you with steady pressure, making sure you could feel his body against your clit as he kissed you.

It was a slow build, and the two of you would most definitely be late for your check-out time. But he didn't care. Your fingers were laced with his against the pillow. His nose found the curve of your cheek and then your ear. He inhaled your sweetness and your warmth. He could feel it at the base of his spine, the way you were his. It was powerful. You were close, and he knew it. But he drew it out until your body was tense beneath him before going limp. You shook your head, making the most feral sounds, and when he looked down at you, it was almost too late.

"Oh, shit," he grunted, jerking his hips from your body, sending ribbons of his cum against your pussy and thighs and the bedding.

"Did you pull out in time?" you whispered, circling your pert nipples with your fingers and looking up at him through a lust-filled, post orgasm haze.

"Uh," he replied, gasping for breath as he parted your thighs and kissed your rooster tattoo. "Yeah." But he didn't sound convincing even to his own ears as he waited, looking for the telltale sign of a cream pie in your pretty pussy. He saw no evidence there and repeated himself with a bit more authority as he worked his thumb along your opening. "Yeah. I did."

You propped yourself up on your elbows and raised one eyebrow. "You don't sound so sure." Then you paused and chewed on your lip. "Did you pull out last night? Or when we were on the bathroom counter?"

"Yes," he promised, remembering how badly he didn't want to, but doing it anyway. But now your brow puckered in concern.

"Seriously, Bradley. Are you sure?"

He had offered to drive back to Coronado to get your pills. He'd been good about all of it until this moment, and he was afraid to remind you that he came inside you on the balcony as soon as you and he arrived at the hotel. "I'm doing the best I can here, Sweetheart. Okay? Have you ever tried to pull out of your delicious pussy? No. You haven't. It's hard, Baby Girl."

A smile found your lips as he knelt there between your thighs, red-faced and frustrated. "Oh, Roo."

He kissed your bent knee and climbed out of bed. "I'm sorry I like cumming in my wife," he murmured, starting to pack his stuff to head back home. He really didn't see what the big deal was about you being on the pill or not being on the pill anyway. What difference did it make in the long run?

You scrambled out of bed after him, kissing his scarred cheek as you said, "Thank you for pulling out. I'll get back on the pill as soon as we get home. It's the first thing I'm doing after we give kisses to Rosie."

He paused and smiled. "I missed the Nugget. A lot. Next trip we take will be the three of us."

"Agreed."

-----------------------------

"Did she get bigger since Thursday?" Bradley asked, completely scandalized when you and he ran inside after parking the Bronco in the driveway. "I think she grew!"

"I think you're right." You were on your knees next to the play mat where Rose was chewing on one of her crinkly toys and trying her hardest to roll over onto her back. Neither you nor Bradley greeted your parents before you were both cooing at how cute your daughter looked. Bradley ended up with his big body stretched out on the floor, pressing kisses to Rose's forehead as she looked at him.

"We missed you," he whispered, tickling her cheek. "Next time, we'll all go away together, okay?"

"He's such a good dad," your mom muttered behind you, giving her son-in-law heart eyes. "You picked a good one. Proud of you."

You wanted to roll your eyes at her, but you just smiled. "Thanks for staying with her so we could have a break."

"Your mom wants the house in Maryland up for sale by October at the latest," your dad said casually from the couch. "Less than three months away."

"Really?" you asked, glancing back and forth between the two of them now as Bradley rolled onto his back and placed Rose on his chest. "And you'll start looking for a house here pretty soon?"

Your parents shared a look. "Well... we may have already found one," your mom said slowly.

"Rose and I found it when I was pushing her in her stroller," your dad added.

"It's cute. Two streets over from the water," said your mom.

"You better not be joking," you whispered.

"I would never joke about being able to see my granddaughter every day," your mom promised.

"Well, maybe not every day," Bradley muttered, giving you side eyes while Rose reached for his mustache.

You nudged him with your foot and stood with tears in your eyes. "Keep us posted, okay?" you whispered, giving both your mom and dad a hug at the same time.

Once again, your parents were there to stay with Rose when you went to work on Monday morning. Going back to your regular routine in a few more days was going to be hard and exhausting when they were gone again.

"You really wore me out this weekend," Bradley muttered as he rolled his shoulders at a traffic light on the way to base. "I might need a night off."

"Thirty-eight years old seems rough, huh?" you asked between sips of your coffee. You also desperately needed a night off, but you'd never tell him that as he just grunted at you. Three days of nonstop sex and champagne had been lovely, but you wanted a solid nine hours in your bed tonight. And you knew you wouldn't get it any other night after your parents flew back east again and you had to get up to feed Rose alone. "You may have a night off, Roo. But I expect a foot rub."

"So fucking demaning," he muttered, leaning in to kiss your cheek before the light turned green. "You know you can ask me for that whenever you want it."

"I know," you whispered, still yawning as the guard towers came into view. "I hope to god Bickel doesn't pull some three hour long meeting or something today. I just don't have the patience for it."

"I'm kind of hoping to avoid Maverick altogether," Bradley replied, finding an empty spot in the parking garage. "He's always extra hyper after a holiday weekend."

When the two of you parted ways, you dumped your stuff in your office and grabbed your computer before heading to the lab. You just had a feeling something was going to happen, but your boss wasn't even in there when you arrived. In fact, it was just Cat sitting quietly at the counter, tapping away on her keyboard, entering code with a big, fat diamond engagement ring on her finger.

"Are you serious?" you gasped, nearly dropping your computer as you ditched it on the closest counter to make your way over to her. "Jake proposed?"

Her dark eyes seemed to be all mixed up with emotion, but a smile spread across her lips as she held her hand up for you to see. "Yes," she whispered. "Didn't I tell you the ring was massive?"

"Your sure fucking did," you replied examining the rock which was easily four times the size of Carole Bradshaw's ring on your own finger. "Holy shit."

You pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her up tight. "It's too much," she said. "I told him it's too big and that it could pay for college for Jeremiah, but he said he'd make sure that happened, too." When you released her from the hug and gaped at her, she whispered, "He wants to adopt Jer."

"Let him," you replied immediately. "Oh my god, Cat, he loves you both so much."

"I know," she said, pressing her lips together. "We're talking about the next steps that we want to take together." You watched as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "You're right. He'd be a good dad."

You sat and listened to her recount the way Jake proposed as the two of them tucked Jeremiah in bed in his room at Jake's place. He waited until the Independence Day fireworks were over and they were all alone to do it. She used the word perfect to describe it. 

Just before lunch, you couldn't wait another minute to talk to Jake yourself, so you jogged out through the hangar and across the tarmac to the tower. You were hoping to catch him as well as Bradley in the rec room, and you weren't far off. You could hear both of their voices before you turned the last corner. They must be out in the hallway. Then Bradley said your name with a laugh.

"Fuck you, man. She's going to want another ring if she learns the one you gave Cat is three carats."

You rolled your eyes at the teasing tone in his voice as he went on to congratulate Jake, but you stayed tucked out of sight when Jake asked, "What did Maverick want you for?"

Bradley groaned, keeping his voice low. "This new opportunity to train incoming pilots at Top Gun. Originally I thought the idea of fewer deployments was appealing, but Mav is all hyped up about me going to Fort Worth for a week or two. He wants me to hand pick some promising aviators to train at North Island starting in the fall. It's starting to sound like a lot more work."

"What's the problem?" Jake drawled. "You'll be home with your family more in the long run."

"Yeah, I know," Bradley said with a sigh. "But my in-laws want to move from Maryland to Coronado, and Maverick wants me to transition to this new role as quickly as possible. There's just so much shit going on, and you know how my wife gets. I don't want her stressing out. And... sometimes I just don't know what I want."

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him through the wall. He told you he was excited about all of these things. If he didn't want you to be stressed out, maybe he shouldn't make things difficult.

You ducked around the corner to find them both in their flight suits, and while Bradley looked surprised, he didn't look at all annoyed. "Hey, Sweetheart," he said with a smile, but you threw your arms around Jake instead.

"I heard congratulations are in order," you told him as his arms wrapped around your back. "A wedding and hopefully an adoption?"

He chuckled. "Thanks, Angel. Yeah, I better get both."

"I think you will," you whispered, pecking him on the cheek. As soon as you released him, Bradley pulled you in his direction. "Hi, Roo," you said quietly.

"Does this mean you didn't come all the way over here to see me?"

"I did not," you confirmed. "But since I'm here, you can have a kiss, too." The peck you gave your husband was on the lips, but that's all he got.

"There better be more where that came from," he muttered, cocking his head to the side.

"It's your night off, remember?" you asked, patting his abs. "We can talk about some things when you're rubbing my feet later?"

He nodded in the affirmative, but when the time came, he didn't say a word to you about Maverick or Fort Worth or his new position.

--------------------------

Well, let's just see where this goes. Thank you for reading! And thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 27

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[greengoblinswifey]

3 things. you, nicholas, cooper. in one place. the bed. just saying...

Warnings— unprotected sex, some coop and nick action, praise kink, oral(m&f receiving), anal, double penetration, double creampie, aftercare.

A/N— Since you guys are clamoring for more Cooper content <3 Thank you guys sm for 4000+ followers <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

You had no idea how you ended up in this situation—or maybe you did. Cooper and Nicholas had always had this magnetism about them, the kind that made you weak in the knees during every rehearsal. You were supposed to be acting, but the tension between the three of you had grown so thick over the weeks that you could cut it with a knife.

It was Nicholas who broke the ice first, his subtle touches lingering longer than necessary. Cooper followed suit, his flirtation playful yet deliberate, with comments about how you were the best part of the set. They made you feel seen, desired, and eventually, when the premiere night celebration turned into a more private gathering in Cooper’s hotel room, the unspoken finally gave way.

You were sandwiched between them now, your breaths shallow as Cooper’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips traced the curve of your shoulder and up to your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “God, your hair smells amazing,” he murmured, his voice a low hum that tickled your skin. “Beautiful, just like the rest of you.”

In front of you, Nicholas tilted your chin up, his eyes filled with lust as he leaned in to capture your lips. His kiss was slow and deep, his hands framing your face as though you were something fragile and precious. The heat of his body pressed into yours, making you melt into the two of them.

When Nicholas pulled back, you gasped for air, only to feel Cooper’s lips brush against your ear. “You look so good like this,” he murmured, his tone dripping with admiration. Before you could respond, Nicholas leaned over, and suddenly, the two of them were kissing, Cooper’s hand still firmly on your waist as their lips crashed together passionately.

It was mesmerizing, the way they moved together. Nicholas pulled back first, his lips glistening, and his gaze flickered down to you. “You’re not jealous, are you?” he teased, his smirk evident.

You shook your head, your breath hitching as Nicholas lowered himself between your thighs, his hands spreading them gently but insistently. “Good,” he said, his voice rough. “Because I’m about to make you forget anything else exists.”

Cooper chuckled behind you, guiding your head down toward him. “And I’m not letting you get away either, sweetheart,” he said, his voice warm and teasing.

You took his cock in your hands, your lips parting as you began to move in time with Nicholas’ movements against your pussy below. Cooper’s hands tangled in your curls he loved so much, his head falling back as a guttural moan escaped his lips. “So perfect,” he muttered, his voice strained with pleasure. “You’re both so perfect.”

He looked down, his gaze locking on Nicholas as he worked between your thighs, his focus entirely on you. “You’re doing so good, Nick,” Cooper said, his voice low and rough. “She looks so beautiful like this, doesn’t she?”

Nicholas glanced up briefly, his lips curving into a smirk. “She’s amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick. “So responsive. I can feel her shaking.”

Cooper’s grip in your hair tightened as his hips bucked in your mouth slightly. “That’s it, baby,” he praised, his words breathless. “Take it all—just like that. You’re so fucking good at this.”

The coil in your stomach snapped, and you cried out around Cooper’s cock, your body trembling as Nicholas’ name spilled from your lips like a prayer. He didn’t stop, drawing out every second of your orgasm with his mouth and tongue until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

Cooper’s hips stilled as he couldn’t hold on any longer, a loud moan escaping him as he spilled into your mouth. His hand stroked your cheek gently as he caught his breath. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice softening, as you swallowed his hot load. “You’re amazing.”

Nicholas kissed up your thighs, his hands smoothing over your skin as he grinned up at you. “You’re so perfect, everything about you,” he said, his voice low and sensual.

After catching his breath, he reached for you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he brought you to straddle him. His lips found yours in a deep kiss, his hands roaming your body with purpose, mapping every curve.

Behind you, Cooper’s hands rested on your hips, his body pressing against your back. His lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, drawing a soft gasp from you as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this. Sandwiched between us, exactly where you belong.”

Their attention made your skin tingle, every nerve pulsing as Nicholas kissed down your neck, his hands gripping your thighs firmly. Cooper’s lips trailed along your shoulder, his voice low and teasing. “Nick, I think she’s addicted to us already.”

Nicholas smirked against your skin, his brown eyes meeting Cooper’s over your shoulder. “Who could blame her?” he replied, his voice deep and full of confidence. “Look at us. Look at her.”

They moved in sync, their hands and mouths exploring you with a mix of roughness and care making you shiver and whimper. Nicholas leaned back, his eyes darkening as he took you in. “We’ll take care of you,” he muttered.

Cooper’s hand slid down your spine, his touch comforting. “You can take us both, can’t you, sweetheart?” he asked.

Your breath caught in your throat, but their praise and confidence made you feel invincible. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Nicholas pulled you closer, his hands guiding you onto his cock as Cooper did the same, your bodies connecting in perfect rhythm. The combination of their praise and the way their cocks stretched you, left you breathless. Cooper’s hand brushed over your curls, his voice soft yet commanding. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.”

Nicholas’ lips curled into a grin as he leaned up to kiss you, his words vibrating against your mouth. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Behind you, Cooper’s movements were controlled and slow, giving you time to adjust to his size. His eyes flickered down to watch the way you responded to both of them. “Look at her, Nicholas,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. “She’s taking everything we’re giving her.”

Nicholas’ eyes met Cooper’s again, he leaned back slightly and teased, “Think you can keep up with me, Coop?”

Cooper chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening. “Oh, I don’t think—I know.”

Their dynamic added an extra layer of heat, their movements perfectly synced as they focused on your pleasure by moving inside your holes. You couldn’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips, their praises and teasing making you melt.

“You’re amazing,” Nicholas murmured, his voice low and full of awe.

“So amazing,” Cooper added, his voice possessive yet gentle.

The three of you moved together, the room filled with the sound of heavy breaths and murmured praises. It was intoxicating, the sheer intensity of being between them, their focus overwhelming in the best way as you felt them thrust into you at the same pace.

As the tension in your body built, you felt their hands steadying you, their voices guiding you through every moment. Cooper kissed the side of your neck, his words soft and soothing. “That’s it, baby. Cum for us.”

Nicholas’s voice followed, his tone husky and full of admiration. “We’ve got you. Just feel it, baby.”

And when you finally did, the sensation was like nothing you’d ever experienced, their words and actions leaving you trembling in their arms as your orgasm came over you. They held you close, their praises continuing as they helped you come down from the high.

“You’re incredible,” Nicholas whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

“The best,” Cooper added, his hands running gently along your back.

They both leaned in, their kisses gentle now, full of warmth, their cocks still thrusting inside you.

Nicholas leaned forward, his breath hot against your neck as his load filled you up, a deep moan escaping him. “That’s it,” he murmured, his hands steadying you as his thrusts slowed.

Cooper followed moments later, his grip on your waist firm as he buried himself deep in your ass, his own release paired with a strained whisper of your name as he came inside. “Perfect,” he said, his lips brushing against your skin. “Absolutely perfect.”

As their movements stilled, the three of you remained intertwined, the weight of the moment settling in as they held you close. Nicholas was the first to move, his hands gentle as he helped you shift into a more comfortable position. “Easy,” he murmured, his voice soft now, filled with care. “We’ve got you.”

Cooper pressed a kiss to your temple, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “You were amazing,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “But we need to take care of you now.”

They guided you to lie down between them, their hands moving with tenderness as they cleaned and comforted you. Nicholas retrieved a soft blanket, draping it over you before lying beside you, his hand brushing your hair back with gentle strokes. “You’re incredible,” he said softly, his eyes full of warmth.

Cooper pressed another kiss to your forehead, his fingers lacing with yours. “We’re so lucky to have you,” he said, his voice soothing.

They stayed close, their touches and words reminding you of the trust and connection you shared.

“Rest now,” Nicholas murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” Cooper added, his voice soft and steady.

And with that, you let yourself relax, safe in their arms, knowing they would always take care of you.

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors with Benefits: Part 2 (Joel Miller x f! Reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge put on by @hellishjoel 🙏 Thanks again for this overabundance of Dilfy Pedro content & promotion 🥵

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: Roughly 4000

Warning: Dilfy Smut/ Age Gap (23 & 42)

“(Y/N), do you want some money for pizza?" The voice sounded like a distant echo. "(Y/N)... (Y/N)?"

You finally snapped out of a daydream and turned to your mother in the kitchen from the sink where you aimlessly washed dishes. "Huh?"

"Do you want some money to order a pizza or are you going to have something here?" Your mother waited for a response that was taking you an extra long time to give.

"Oh." You cleared your throat and looked at the soapy bowl in your hands, "No... no I'll eat something here."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. "Yeah there's... soup and stuff."

"Soup?" Your mother asked, "It’s eighty-eighty degrees outside.”

You shrugged. "I had a turkey sub for a late lunch. I'm fine." You managed a smile, "What time will you and Dad be back?"

"Well the banquet starts at seven." She eyed the ceiling as she thought, "I can't see us being out much past ten."

Your father wandered down the stairs straightening his tie that completed a black suit, "How do I look?"

"Dapper dear."

You laughed, "Dapper? Is that still a word?"

"Hey if selfie is a word," your father contested, "Then, yes, dapper is a word. And I'll take it." He kissed your mother on the cheek, "Are we ready to go?"

"Just about." Jennifer glanced at you again.

"I'll be fine." You shoo'd them with your hand, "You guys look great."

Tim reached into his wallet and handed his daughter a twenty. "Just take it," he ordered with a grin when you began to refuse. “In case you change your mind about the pizza.”

"Fine." You smiled and tucked it into your jeans and then kissed them each on the cheek. "Have fun."

The two of them waved and then headed toward the front door, locking it behind them and heading off for the evening.

You continued with the dishes, unable to put the events of the night before out of your mind. You knew you had officially crossed a line - a big line. You had had one of the hottest moments of your life the night before with your much-older neighbor. All day you had kept an eye out for Joel. Once you'd seen him outside watering flowers in the front of the house and another time washing his car. With your parents quite literally over your shoulder it proved to be harder to pursue his offers than you would have thought.

All the more reason to have my own place, you thought.

You turned off the faucet and dried your hands before making your way up into your bedroom. You had begun to feel like a stalker, staking out Joel's every move and looking for some opportunity or excuse to go over there to see him.

"Where ya headed?" Joel's voice filtered in through the open window in your room and you rushed to the window to listen.

You swallowed hard, watching as he sat on a rider lawn mower shouting to your parents who hadn't yet left the driveway.

"Retirement dinner!" Your father shouted, "Open bar!"

"Even better." Joel put his hands out to the sides and gave a wave. "Enjoy!"

You took a breath and saw him kick the mower back into gear before continuing on down the yard. You couldn't take your eyes off of him and only did to watch your parents' vehicle vacate the premises with a friendly double-beep of the horn as they headed a few towns away to a fancy dinner for a friend.

Do I go over there? you wondered. Will I look too desperate? Your heart raced and all of a sudden you felt like you were in high school again - waiting for your parents to leave so you could talk to some guy you were crushing on. Not just some guy, you knew. He was more than you had bargained for in the best of ways.

With a deep breath you took a glance at yourself and changed from the plain, pink t-shirt into a fresh cami from the closet before reapplying some deodorant and giving a spritz from her best Victoria's Secret body spray collection.

I'll just go grab a beer and sit outside, you decided with a nod before ripping the hair-tie from your hair and letting it fall in a naturally messy fashion around your face.

You darted down the steps, reached for a bottle of Bud Lite and headed out the back door to sit on the steps. Your heart was pounding now and flashes of memories from the night before continued to rattle your brain, sending electric currents to every part of your body. You didn't want the encounter to be a one-time ordeal and so when you saw him casually ride up and down in the next yard over you couldn't help but stare.

He's busy. You didn't know if you meant what you were thinking or if you were just scared to go over there and talk to him.

Each second felt like a minute; each minute like an hour. You adjusted from sitting to standing, to sitting again and then decided to pretend to check the mailbox, though you couldn't have cared less if there was mail or not. All you wanted was for Joel to notice you.

Like before, your heart thudded with each step as you crossed the yard and rounded the house that was adjacent to Joel's. His back was to you, and for that you cursed to yourself but you continued the walk toward the driveway, glancing out of the corner of your eye as he put the mower in reverse and turned to face your direction. As your feet waltzed over the pavement you saw him glance over, letting his stare linger as you paced the length of driveway before reaching the mailbox.

You swallowed hard, noting there was nothing to retrieve and then took a deep breath as you prepared your walk back. Again, Joel’s back was to you and he continued what he was doing, mowing perfectly straight rows up and down the lawn.

You sighed, noting it was only halfway done and the impatience that radiated out of you began to drive you mad. Still, next door Joel didn't falter. He carried on with a sense of patience and control that it almost made you feel crazy.

He doesn't seem to be in any rush, why should I?

You sipped your beer again and then reluctantly went in the house when Joel disappeared around the opposite side of his. You scrunched your nose and turned on the television to try to pass some time, though you opened up the living room windows so you could hear the hum of the lawnmower.

You actively felt yourself growing weaker as you relived the moment in the bathroom yet again - his face a few inches from yours while his fingers explored your most sensitive areas. You imagined his inability to control himself in the midst of his climax that left him cursing and moaning with no regard for anything but the way you were making him feel. And his eyes; his eyes burned into your soul and made you submit to him in ways that no other man had. Never in your life had you been enamored so quickly or fallen so hard and fast for someone. It was all brand new and exciting.

It's driving me crazy!

When the lawnmower went off you muted the television and listened, wanting to burst out the front door and run over next door. You knew you couldn't do that - not if you wanted to look like you could handle the passion that was brewing between you and Joel. He wouldn't tolerate some clingy little girl. You knew he needed a woman - a hot, young woman to satisfy him.

You tapped your foot and bit down on your fingernails until they were as short as they could possibly go. As the world grew darker your hopes began to fade. Truthfully, you didn't know if you had the balls to go over and knock on the door of his house. Though, without warning, fate finally appeared to be on your side.

A light knock at the back door made you freeze. Your body went numb and you swallowed hard, able to hear the beating of your own heart. On a second knock, you sprung to your feet and began to rush through the living room. The closer you got, the slower you moved in an attempt to look like you had your shit together. You didn't - not even a little bit. Still, you were addicted to the feeling and the suspense that went along with your short bout of time knowing Joel. If it was anyone else at the back door you knew you might lose it, and so when you flung it open and he stood there still in his yard clothes, you couldn't help but smile as excitement and relief filtered through your body.

"Hi." You smiled at him.

"Hi." Joel's voice cut straight through you. A familiar tantalizing chill ran down your spine.

You stepped aside and held the door, prompting him to slowly ease himself inside. As if it was already a habit he removed his work boots and closed the door behind him, leaving them on a mat so as not to make a mess. The action made you grin and you glanced up at him.

"You, uh... you cool with the shit that went down last night?" Joel asked, leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

You nodded. "Yeah."

"You sure?" The human lie-detector in him studied your features more intently now though he could tell from the smirk you were fighting off, your big excited eyes and the reddening flush in your face that you were being truthful.

"Yeah, I'm sure." You nodded and Joel looked around for a moment. "My parents are... gone."

"Until when?"

"Ten."

His eyes landed on a clock that read seven-thirty-six and then he returned his gaze to meet yours. "The mail doesn't come on Sundays."

"What?" you looked at him, "Yeah, I know..."Your voice trailed off and you felt your face grow a shade darker again.

Joel began to chuckle, "I was sure you did."

You shook your head and sighed, putting your hands on your hips for a moment before casting them out to the sides. He had seen right through your little stroll up the driveway.

"You could've just come over ya know." He gave a closed-mouth smile accompanied by playful eyes.

"I didn't want to bother you when you were mowing the lawn."

Joel smiled, "I was just fuckin’ killing time.. waiting around.. hoping you’d bring by some butter.”

"You were?" You smiled a little wider, pleased to know that you weren’t the only one who felt the anxiety that went along with the cat-and-mouse game you were actively involved in.

"My dick's been hard half the day thinking of last night. Took some serious will power not to fuckin' take care of it myself."

Fuck. What a visual that was.

You giggled but felt that familiar flush in your cheeks again as you leaned back against the counter across from him. Joel grinned when you began to twirl the blinds closed in front of the kitchen window.

For a moment he stared across the room, taking every part of you in from where he stood and eyed each twirl of your fingers around the blinds. When you moved to the next window to assure your privacy, he stalked quietly, waiting for you to begin to close the blinds on the second window before moving in behind to wrap an arm around your midsection.

You felt it again - the electricity. His touch shot currents through your body like you had never experienced. Your eyes closed as he kissed your neck; you whimpered as his fingers carefully undid the button of your jeans. He teased you by letting them dance just an inch or two below your waistline.

Joel reached for your hand, placing it on the front of his jeans and began to nibble on your earlobe. You bit your bottom lip when you felt his hard-on through his pants. "This is what you fuckin' do to me," he whispered.

"Mmm..." you moaned, keeping your eyes closed, "You already know what you do to me,” you told him, pushing his hand farther down your pants so he could feel the dampness that had lingered there since seeing him out on the lawn mower.

He moaned against you, pushing his erection against you from behind and continued to ravage your ear. "I've been dreaming of what you feel like all day." Joel continued to whisper, becoming more aroused by the second.

"God..." you pressed your eyes shut, your arousal spiking now from his words. When you felt his hands sweep down over the thin straps of your cami, you slunk your arms out of it, allowing him the access to grasp both of your breasts from behind. His hot breaths continued to land on your neck. When you heard him undo his zipper you almost couldn't take it. You sighed out loud and reciprocated his advances when he bent you over in front of the back door so your hands were pressed firmly against it.

Joel dropped his pants, stepping out of them with ease and removed himself from the black boxer-briefs he was left standing in. With a swift move he fingered your underwear to the side and positioned himself so at your entrance.The anticipation was almost too much.

You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes as you waited those long couple of seconds until finally feeling him for the first time. Inch by inch he eased in.When Joel pushed fully inside of you, you moaned

“Ughh…”. His deep, desperate breaths from behind made you feel weaker in the knees, though when his big, strong hands clamped down on the outsides of your hips and he started thrusting you were taken to a whole new level of pleasure.

"Fuck..." You were barely able to get the word out as he wasted no time, pumping hard and relentlessly into you; though when he didn’t stop you couldn’t contain yourself. “Oh..my..God.” You couldn’t hold it in.

Joel closed his eyes, switching his hands from your hips to her shoulders. He tried to remain in control of the feeling, but everything about you got the best of him. The way your back was arched; the way his name echoed off the kitchen walls as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn’t help it.

As a man who often prided himself on control, Joel was the one who was overwhelmed with a desire so intense that he felt like he could come already at any second. It was why he was forced to pull out, replacing his dick with fingers so he could continue to pleasure you.

“Joel.” You whined his name and your fingers curled against the door, widening your feet again to assure he could do whatever he wanted. Your head dropped and your midsection went weak. “Fuck.” When he removed his fingers this time he pulled you back to him, spinning your around to face him and then crashed his lips against yours.

Joel's tongue dominated you and you wrapped your arms around him. Both of you moaned together as you took a breath in the kiss before he picked you up by the backs of your legs and set you down on the kitchen counter so you faced him. For another few seconds you continued to make out fiercely until he finally reconnected himself to you again at the edge of the marble.

You met his half-open eyes as he proceed to fuck you raw. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and left the other pressed firmly into the counter with your calves digging into the backs of his legs. He appeared as if he was barely hanging on, though everything he was doing was effectively leading you toward an orgasm.

Your eyes closed now and your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders. You tightened your legs around him and whimpered. It left your thighs aching; your stomach taut. The strength of what was building was mind-blowing, and you begged him not to stop as you let yourself go, releasing a moan you didn’t know you had in you. It was primal and raw, accompanying a burst of pleasure that pulsed with such ferocity that Joel groaned from the recognition of your climatic moment.

"Holy fuck..” He barely got the second word out and gripped your hips harder before releasing inside of you, complimenting your orgasm with a powerful one of his own. Joel let out a guttural moan and had trouble catching his breath as the feeling lingered. Joel kissed you hard as he finished completely, leaving an ache on your lips as he breathed his final breaths into your mouth.

You held onto him hard. Sweat coated his heaving back beneath your palms as he breathed heavily and rested his forehead against yours, now dormant inside of you.

"Fuck," he whispered against your lips and pulled your hips closer to his, thrusting slowly into you once more as if to assure you had gotten every single drop from him.

"Mmm..." you hummed a moan, keeping your arms slung loosely around him. In that moment, you knew you could easily get in too deep, too fast.

When his lips lazily danced against yours again you felt the same electricity as when he'd first entered the house. Your new mission was not to fall in love.

"Any of them college boys ever fuck you like that?" Joel whispered, half-smirking with heavy, satisfied eyes. He hummed another quiet moan and nibbled sensually on your earlobe.

Your senses hadn't quite turned to normal and your face glowed a shade darker. You breathed out the word, “No.”

Joel pecked your lips a few more times in a row before finally separating himself from you.

All of it still felt a bit surreal. For the first time ever you didn't have a care in the world for what kind of consequences could stem from your actions. Joel didn't take his eyes off of you. The lazy post-coital gleam in his eye was unmistakable and you finally chuckled when he failed to look away from here.

"What?" you tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Joel's face twisted into a mischievous smirk. "Let me see your phone." He kissed you once more before pushing back off the counter to retrieve his pants from the floor.

"My phone?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "Your phone." Joel began to get dressed and you slowly slunk off the countertop, feeling a heaviness in your thighs.

You glanced around the kitchen, not wholly aware of where you'd left it and then reached a few feet away across the counter when it finally caught your eye.

Joel waited patiently, still smirking to himself. "Punch the code in, honey."

You did as he asked and were tempted to ask what he was doing, but ultimately decided you had nothing to hide and slipped the phone into his waiting palm.

"What the hell was that friend of yours name from the bar last night?" He asked.

You pressed her eyebrows together, a small bout of jealousy filling your body. "Holly. Why?"

Joel kept his eyes on the small screen in front of him, letting his tongue dance over his lips in amusement as his thumbs began to type away at the screen.

The anxious butterflies returned to your stomach and you were dying to know what he was writing.

Joel continued to smirk, almost laughing to himself, and then a noise went off that indicated he'd successfully sent a text message. "Here." He tossed the phone back and sat down at a chair at the kitchen table, crossing one foot over the other, waiting in anticipation as you read what he'd written.

Your eyes scanned the screen and you couldn't contain a wide grin when you saw that he had texted her parents claiming you were spending the night at Holly's house.

When your eyes lifted to meet his, Joel maintained a smile and waited for what you would say.

You decide to tease him. "I'm not staying at Holly's house tonight."

"I know." He nodded matter-of-factly.

You snickered, knowing what he was getting at. "What about my car? My parents will see it in the garage."

Joel waved a hand again, requesting the phone back.

You handed it over, smiling as he sent another message before tossing it back to you again.

"Holly is on her way to pick me up," you read aloud.

Joel cleared his throat and then rested his hands behind his head. Before either of you could say anything more your phone went off and he chuckled, prompting you to put your finger to your lips over an ear-to-ear grin.

"Now, I thought you were an adult and could do whatever the fuck you wanted." He winked and you fought back a laugh as you answered the phone.

"Hi Mom." You made eye contact with Joel who you knew was gaining far too much amusement from the situation. "Yeah I'll text you when we get to her house... no we're not going out drinking." You paused, “Yeah I'll get us some pizza with the money." Another pause. "Okay, goodnight."

When you hung up the phone you eyed Joel again who appeared more than satisfied about the situation. "How will I get back over here without being noticed?"

“I've put all the pieces of this plan into motion,” he reminded you, “Time for you to be creative." Joel slipped his boots back on. "I'm going to shower," he informed you.

“Okay.” You reached down for your jeans, still standing next-to-naked in the center of the kitchen.

Joel made his way back to you, resting his fingers beneath your chin and tapping just under your lips with his thumb. He then leaned down and gave you a chaste kiss. "Pack a bag. I'll leave my back door unlocked."

CLICK HERE FOR PART 3

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @smolbeanzzz

[killerelysia]

While, La Your Lee, Died with Loving You-No witness end! Solivan Brugmansia x Reader X Crowe (bad end)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 4000

Genre: Angst

Reader : G.N reader!

Summary: No Witness (Bad End)

Spoilers for the game. For anyone who wants to know what happened after the ending Fantasia has said,

https://www.tumblr.com/fantasia-kitt/768505871729868800/spoilers-bad-ending-no-witnesses-aftermath?source=share

Trigger warnings: Violence, Obsession and unhealthy relationships, Death and murder, su1cide, Blood, Slightly gore..?

EXTRA: I hate this.

Hyugo’s knife was quick, precise—he knew where to aim, even if it tore at him to do so. Your mouth moved, trying to speak, but no sound came, only the faint ghost of a word that would never be finished. Your eyes were wide, but unfocused, and Sol… Sol couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

You were gone..

You were dead...

"No… no, no, no!" Sol’s voice cracked, breaking into a desperate scream as he lunged forward. The sun was still high in the sky, its golden rays shining in mockery of the darkness that had just fallen over his heart. He cradled your body, hands trembling, holding you as if you were a fragile doll he could piece back together.

"You’re okay. You have to be okay," he whispered, rocking you back and forth, his tears falling freely onto your face. His voice broke with a hiccup as he tried to force a smile. "Pumpkin, c’mon… the sun’s still up, yeah? We wanted...we'd stay together ‘til sunset, remember?"

The executioner, wanted to show it to the poor peasant which he loved so much....

But you didn’t answer. You didn’t move. The sun didn’t care about promises.

His name meant sun, but now it felt like dusk—cold, hollow, and final. Tears streaked down his face, soaking into the blood-stained fabric of your clothes. His shoulders quaked, and he pulled you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, trying to will you back to life.

"Pumpkin..." Sol whispered, his voice cracking. His dark eyes darted from your pale face to Hyugo, who staggered back, wide-eyed and panicked. "What—what did you do?!"

Hyugo stood over him, his blade stained, his expression cold and detached, but his hands shook just enough to betray him. “Stop this, Sol,” he muttered, his voice devoid of warmth. “You don’t even know what you’re fighting for anymore. They didn’t love you. They loved Crowe.”

That name—it was gasoline on the fire in Sol’s chest. He snapped his head up, his grief twisting into rage. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed, his voice raw. “You’re wrong! They loved me! They— You won't understand!”

He always wanted the best for Sol, But it can get naggy and Hyugo hated naggy people.

Hyugo stood frozen, his knife slipping from his hand, clattering to the ground with a hollow ring. His mouth opened, closed, his own tears blurring his vision. “Sol… I—”

"Don’t. Don’t you dare." Sol’s voice was venom, his usually soft demeanor shattered, replaced by a raw, blistering rage. He laid your body down gently, as if he were tucking you into bed, before he stood, fists clenched, his entire body shaking. "You did this. You."

Hyugo didn’t flinch when Sol lunged at him, fists flying with a fury that words couldn’t convey. But no matter how hard Sol hit, no matter how much he screamed, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Sol collapsed against Hyugo, fists falling limp. His tears soaked into Hyugo’s shoulder as he choked out, "Why?"

There was no answer.

Time passed in fractured moments, each second heavier than the last. Sol’s mind raced through memories—your laugh, your warmth, the way you’d tease him about his name. The sun, always the sun. His name was supposed to mean hope, light, warmth… but without you, he felt nothing but cold.

Sol’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury despite the tears blurring his vision. He gently laid your body down as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, then rose to his feet.

"You took them from me!" Sol’s voice cracked, low and feral, trembling with rage. He lunged at Hyugo, his fists swinging wildly.

He ducked and sidestepped Sol’s blind fury, but he couldn’t escape the onslaught forever. Sol caught him by the collar, slamming him against the wall.

"Why?! WHY DID YOU DO IT?!" Sol screamed, his voice hoarse and raw. His grip tightened as Hyugo clawed at his hands, gasping for air. "They loved me! They loved me like I loved them! We could’ve been happy, but you—"

"Shut up!" Hyugo gasped, his face twisted in a mix of guilt and anger. "You’re lying to yourself! They never wanted you—"

The words hit Sol like a physical blow. He staggered back, releasing Hyugo, who fell to his knees, coughing.

Sol surged to his feet, stumbling toward Hyugo, fist raised. “Why?! Why would you—why did you take them?!” His voice cracked again, his rage faltering under the weight of his sorrow.

But before his fist could land, it dropped to his side, the fight draining out of him. His knees hit the ground as he clutched his head, shaking violently. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…”

The air hung heavy with tension, the kind that seemed to seep into the walls and settle deep in the bones. Sol sat slumped against the cold concrete, blood pooling beneath him, hands trembling as he struggled to hold onto the last shreds of composure. Hyugo stood across from him, his teal hair clinging to his sweat-slicked face, his baby blue eyes unreadable.

“You promised me,” Sol said, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You said it wouldn’t come to this…”

Hyugo’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides. “And you said you’d keep your end of the deal,” he spat, his voice sharp, cutting. “But here we are.”

Sol let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded more like a sob. “What does it even matter now? They’re gone. Pumpkin’s gone.” His voice cracked on your name, his head falling forward as he gripped his hair, tugging hard enough to hurt. “I can’t… I can’t do this without them. I don’t want to.”

Hyugo flinched at Sol’s words, his hands twitching toward the blade at his side. “Don’t ask me to do this,” he said quietly, almost pleading. “We’re friends, Sol. Don’t make me—”

“Friends?” Sol’s head snapped up, his eyes red and wild. “Friends don’t betray each other. Friends don’t kill each other’s whole damn world!”

The accusation hit Hyugo like a punch to the gut, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just stared, his expression blank, but his hands shaking.

“You killed them!” Sol’s voice shattered the silence, echoing in the empty room. “You ripped them away from me, and now you want me to just… just move on?!”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Hyugo finally yelled back, his own tears threatening to spill. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to hurt you, to hurt them?!”

Sol’s laughter was bitter, hollow. “Choice? You talk about choices while their blood is still on your hands! You took everything from me, Hyugo!”

And then, as if his fury had burned itself out, Sol crumpled to his knees, clutching your body even tighter. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over his shaking breaths. “I can’t… I can’t live without them…”

“Don’t say that,” Hyugo pleaded, stepping closer. “Don’t—don’t you dare say that.”

But Sol wasn’t listening. He looked up at Hyugo with tear-filled eyes, his voice trembling as he said the words that would haunt Hyugo forever.

Hyugo recoiled. “What?”

“You owe me this,” Sol whispered. “You took them from me… You owe me.”

Hyugo shook his head, his hands trembling. “Sol, no. You don’t mean that. You’re—You’re just upset. Please, just—”

“DO IT!” Sol’s scream pierced the air, raw and desperate. He stumbled to his feet, dropping you gently on the ground before staggering toward Hyugo. “You’ve already destroyed me. What’s one more cut?!”

“I can’t—” Hyugo’s voice cracked, his entire body shaking. “I can’t kill you, Sol. You’re my friend. You’re my best friend!”

Sol grabbed Hyugo’s wrists, forcing the knife in his hand to point at his own throat. “Friends don’t betray each other! Friends don’t kill each other’s everything!” His voice broke, his tears falling harder now. “Do it, Hyugo. Let me go. Please.”

But Sol wasn’t listening anymore. His grip on Hyugo’s hands tightened, his eyes pleading. “If you ever cared about me… If any of this meant anything… Do it.”

Sol said he will not! didn't keep his end of the deal (and refuses to collaborate with Hyugo afterwards). Hyugo sees Sol as a threat because of that

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking completely.

Sol closed his eyes, his tears still falling, and smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

The blade fell.

When it was over, Hyugo staggered back, the knife slipping from his bloodied hands. He collapsed to his knees, staring at the crimson pooling around him. Sol’s body lay still, crumpled next to yours, his face finally at peace. He held you even before his last breath.

Hyugo’s breath hitched, and he let out a guttural sob, clutching at his chest as the weight of what he’d done crashed down on him. “Why…?” he whispered to no one. “Why did it have to end like this…?”

The silence was deafening, broken only by Hyugo’s choked sigh. He wiped his face with a bloodied hand, smearing red across his cheeks as he looked down at the three lifeless forms before him.

His best friend? Even if he...

And now, all he could think about was how much blood there was to clean.

The kind of silence that screamed louder than any words could. Sol’s body lay still on the ground, blood pooling around him, the faintest hint of a smile on his lifeless face. Hyugo stood over him, knife still clutched in his trembling hand, his expression unreadable.

A blank look. No anger. No sadness. Just… nothing.

He didn’t wipe them away. There was no point. It wasn’t like this was the first time tonight.

First Crowe, then you, and now Sol. Three bodies. Three too many.

Hyugo let out a heavy breath, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. His mind was a whirlwind, but none of the thoughts stuck. Not the screams, not the pleas, not the sound of the blade slicing through flesh. It was all just… static.

Still, frustration bubbled beneath the surface, a bitter laugh threatening to escape. Three bodies. He’d have to clean up three bodies now.

Sol’s last wish echoed in his mind, that broken voice begging him, pleading with him to end it. Hyugo had refused at first, of course he had. They were friends. Best friends. How could he—how should he—have gone through with it? But Sol wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t… let go.

So Hyugo had done it. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Or maybe because Sol made him feel like he had to. Either way, it was over now.

His best friend was gone.

Something about a deal.

Huh. The deal.

What deal, you’re asking?

Why should you care? Didn't know the saying, Curiosity killed the cat?

Leave

The forest was quiet, save for the rhythmic crunch of Hyugo’s boots against the earth. He dragged the bodies, one after the other, his breath labored but steady, his movements methodical. Crowe—or Ichabod, as Hyugo bitterly remembered his true name—was the first.

Ichabod, no—Crowe, lay wrapped in a tattered blanket, his once-proud demeanor now reduced to silence. Hyugo stared at the mound of dirt at his feet and then at the body before him.

Hyugo dug a separate grave for him, far away from the others. The shovel bit into the dirt with a dull thud, over and over, as the mound beside the hole grew larger. He worked in silence, his expression cold and detached.

When the grave was finally deep enough, he let Crowe’s body slide into the earth. Hyugo stood there for a moment, His fingers tightened around the shovel, his knuckles whitening.

“Guess you’ll rest easier this way,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The words felt hollow, like everything else tonight. Crowe was gone, and with him, any semblance of purpose or plan Hyugo had clung to.

Hyugo placed the first scoop of dirt over the body, the sound muffled by the damp earth. Each motion was mechanical, devoid of thought or feeling. When the grave was filled, he stood back, staring at the unmarked mound.

“No words for you,” he said softly, his voice trembling despite the flatness of his tone. “Not after everything. Rest in peace."

And then he turned away, the shovel dragging behind him as he made his way to the next site.

You and Sol lay entwined, limbs tangled in a grotesque reminder of the violence that had unfolded. Your body, once so full of life and warmth, now lay cold against Sol’s, whose amber eyes stared unblinking into the night sky.

Hyugo knelt beside the two of you, the weight of the scene pressing on his chest. He gently reached out, his bloodied gloves trembling as they hovered over Sol’s face. The amber light in Sol’s eyes, so often filled with warmth was gone. Only emptiness remained.

Hyugo’s breath hitched as he closed Sol’s eyes, his touch almost tender, as if he were trying to preserve some fragment of the person he once knew. “You were always so stubborn,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “Always had to make things harder than they needed to be.”

He turned to you, his throat tightening as he stared at your lifeless form. There was no trace of the laughter, the warmth, the spark that had drawn Sol to you so completely. All of it was gone, leaving behind only a fragile shell.

“I don’t even know if you’d want this,” Hyugo said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess… Sol would’ve wanted it. He never let you go, even now.”

Carefully, painstakingly, he untangled your bodies, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid of breaking something already shattered.

Hyugo stood there for a long moment, staring down at the two of you. The sight was almost peaceful, if not for the bloodstains and the harsh reality of it all.

“You should’ve had more time,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “Both of you. Sol… he would’ve done anything for you.”

He swallowed hard, blinking back tears that threatened to spill. Hyugo was no stranger to death, but this—burying his best friend and the person he loved—this was something else entirely.

“Damn it, Sol,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Why’d you have to make this so hard?”

When he finally freed you from Sol’s lifeless embrace, he placed you both beside each other on the ground. His gaze lingered on Sol’s face—his amber eyes, once so full of warmth and fire, now dull and lifeless.

For a moment, Hyugo just stared, his breath hitching as a strange, hollow ache settled in his chest. He knelt beside Sol, his gloved hand reaching out to close those vacant eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hyugo whispered, his voice barely audible. “You’re supposed to haunt me, not pity me.”

He stood and began to dig, the motions mechanical, the sound of the shovel breaking the earth filling the heavy silence. The grave he dug for you and Sol was deeper, wider. Together. That’s what Sol would have wanted, wasn’t it?

When the grave was ready, Hyugo placed your body in first, gently, almost reverently. He glanced at your face—so peaceful, so heartbreakingly still.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Then came Sol. Hyugo carried him with a strange tenderness, lowering him into the grave beside you. He lingered for a moment, his hand brushing against Sol’s cold shoulder as if to wake him. But there was nothing. No warmth, no life.

Hyugo stared at the two of you lying side by side, a bitter lump rising in his throat. He shook his head, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep his composure.

“I hope you’re happy now,” he said, his voice trembling despite his efforts to steady it. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

The words hung in the air, unanswered, as he picked up the shovel again. He buried you together, his movements slowing as the last of the dirt covered your faces. When it was done, he stood there, staring at the freshly turned earth, the weight of it pressing down on him.

When he was done, he stood over the mound, the handle of the shovel gripped so tightly his knuckles turned white. The night stretched on around him, vast and empty, and for a long time, he didn’t move.

“I didn’t want this,” Hyugo muttered, his voice trembling, as though he was pleading with the air itself. “I didn’t… I didn’t ask for this.”

But the words felt hollow, meaningless, even to him. He dropped the shovel, the sound of it hitting the dirt startling in the quiet.

“Y’know, Sol,” he said, forcing a bitter laugh, “you always said I’d be the one to get my hands dirty. Guess you were right about that too.”

He took a step back, his legs feeling like lead. His gaze lingered on the graves for a moment longer, his chest heaving with silent breaths.

Hyugo let himself cry. The tears came in silence, his shoulders shaking, his hands digging into his hair as he fell to his knees. But even as the grief tore through him, the deadness inside him remained.

Because no amount of tears could bring back what he’d lost. And deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel human again.

“Rest easy,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if the words were for you, for Sol, or for himself.

What was your last dream like?

You slowly stirred, your chest tight, breath shallow. There was no sound, no light—just the suffocating weight of the void that pressed in on you from all sides. For a moment, it was as though you were caught between worlds, neither alive nor dead, floating in the nothingness.

And then, a soft warmth, a subtle light that bled through the blackness, a soft glimmer of memory.

A hand.

Crowe’s hand.

It reached toward you, fingers trembling, the wound that had torn through him still fresh, as if time had not dared to move beyond that moment. His face was the same, that familiar mix of warmth and sorrow etched into every line, every subtle crease. His hair was messy, falling in gentle strands, his eyes—those deep blue eyes—still held that glimmer of life. But there was a coldness to them now, something that hadn’t been there before.

You tried to reach for him, but your own body felt foreign, heavy, like it didn’t belong to you anymore. The pain in your chest flared—the wound, the one that had been so final, so permanent—still there, still aching. You looked down at your own hands, at the bloodstains that clung to your skin. Everything was as it had been before, before it all ended. Before the betrayal, the deaths, the endless spiral that led you here.

And yet… Crowe was here. Reaching for you. His eyes locked with yours, and there was something about the look in them—regret, longing, maybe even a little bit of guilt—that made your heart ache all over again.

"You’re still here," you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment.

His lips moved, but no sound came from them. His hand shook more now, the blood still trickling from the gash on his side, staining the air around him like an ominous cloud.

But still, he reached.

You let your hand fall toward his, fingers brushing against the warmth of his palm, the same warmth that had once made you feel safe, whole. But as your fingers touched his, it was like the world started to crack around you. The space you were in—the place that had once been full of sorrow and pain—now seemed to bleed away, replaced by something lighter. The air shifted, and in an instant, you were no longer in the void, but in the midst of something familiar.

A ballroom.

A dance.

The space opened up like a dream, like a memory, a vision of something you could barely touch. A grand, golden ballroom with crystal chandeliers that sparkled like distant stars, the floor polished to a soft shine. It felt like something out of a storybook, something you’d only seen in the corners of your thoughts—before everything fell apart.

Crowe stood before you, dressed as he had been, that familiar black suit, the dark blue vest. His posture was proud, strong, but the blood still marred him, still clung to him like a shadow. You both stood there, silent for a moment, as the music swirled around you, a melody that was both foreign and comforting, haunting and sweet.

You took his hand. His fingers were cold, still stained, but he held you as though nothing had changed. He pulled you into the dance, a soft step at first, just the two of you moving together in time with the music. His movements were graceful, like a prince, and for a fleeting moment, you almost forgot the world you had left behind. It was just the two of you.

And you danced.

You danced and you laughed, even as the truth pressed at the edges of the dream.

The dream of a life that should’ve been, the life that was stolen from both of you, the life where you could’ve been happy.

But as you spun, your eyes met his again, and that unspoken pain, the ache of everything that had gone wrong, flickered between you. His hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer, but it wasn’t enough.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking the silence. "I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you."

You could feel the weight of it—feel the sharp edge of betrayal that cut through the fragile warmth between you both. You had died because of him. He had killed you. And yet, here you were, still in his arms, still tangled in the web of memories and promises that would never come true.

But even now, in this final dream, you danced. You clung to him like he was the last thing keeping you tethered to this world, even as the truth gnawed at the edges of your mind.

The music played on, but it was starting to fade, slipping away, and the dream was unraveling. The ballroom started to crack, the chandeliers dimming, the floor crumbling beneath your feet. You clung to Crowe, but the more you held on, the more you slipped away.

"I can’t keep holding you like this," you said, voice thick with sorrow, knowing that even this last dream was slipping away. "I can’t stay in this moment forever…"

Crowe’s face softened, and for a moment, it was as though everything paused. "Then don’t." He pulled you in closer, his head resting against yours as he whispered, “I’ll always hold you in my heart, no matter where you are.”

But as the world around you crumbled, so did the dream. And with a final, agonizing breath, you were pulled from him. You could hear his voice calling out to you, but it was fading too, slipping further into the distance.

And then, nothing.

No music. No dance. No Crowe.

Just the cold, dark emptiness of death.

And you were buried with him. With the man who had killed your love. With the man you could never leave. In the same grave, tangled together in death, but still apart.

The curse of it all—of never being able to escape, even in death. Of never truly finding peace.

It's not love. It's obsession

The dirt felt wet, sticky—coating your skin in a cold, clinging muck as if it were the only thing that could touch you now. The soil was thick with blood, mixing with the dampness of the grave like some cruel mockery of what was once life. You could feel the texture of it—gritty, gritty, nasty—slowly consuming you as if the grave was swallowing you whole.

Sol’s body lay there next to yours, and the stench of death was overpowering, a rancid, sickening mix of rot and decay that clung to every inch of the air. The sensation of being trapped, entangled with his body—limbs stiff and cold, skin pale and lifeless—was nothing short of revolting. The weight of his corpse beside you felt wrong, like a violation of everything that was once alive. His empty eyes stared into the dark, unseeing, yet the thought that they were once full of light only made the image more grotesque. The blood—so much of it—was still staining the ground beneath you, and it was as if the earth itself was unwilling to let go, clinging to the remnants of pain, betrayal, and broken promises.

His body, once so full of life, now lay frozen beside you, a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. His clothes were stained, torn from the violence that had ended everything. The warmth, the tenderness he once carried, had vanished, replaced by the cold touch of death that seeped into your very bones.

Your own wounds throbbed painfully, fresh but already beginning to rot in the suffocating air of the grave. You could feel the insects crawling over you, hungry and relentless, feasting on the remains of life that were now nothing but husks. The sticky wetness of the earth beneath you felt like it was seeping into your very soul, contaminating everything you were.

The thought of being buried with Sol, the one who had killed your love—killed your love—was the most disgusting thing of all. His presence, the man who had betrayed you, now clung to you like the dirt that held you prisoner in this wretched grave.

The grave was a tomb of rot, of betrayal, of endless suffering. It was a place where nothing would ever grow again, where life would never again touch you. And yet, here you were, buried with him in your own cursed way, but still chained to him, still tangled in the awful, disgusting truth that you could never escape.

HE MADE SURE EVEN DEATH WON'T DO YOU BOTH APART!

[smutoperator]

Aphrodite

Jeon Heejin x Male Reader

Tags: breeding, clitorial fingering, (lots of) cowgirl, creampie, failed facefuck, goddess, mating press, mythology, poolside, public nudity

Word count: 4000.

Santorini, Greece

Heejin's life had changed a lot in such a short span. Winning the lawsuit against her former company, reuniting with her old boss, joining a new group, and getting a new solo were all things that happened to her in under a year. But no memory became more ingrained in her mind than her trip to the beautiful Greek islands of Santorini. Heejin's time in the archipelago could only be described as something straight out of a movie, starting with the moment many people asked her and Jinsoul if they were a married couple due to their matching white dresses that caught people's attention. Filming season's greetings on a Greek island for a group named after a Greek goddess was the perfect fit after all.

Today was one of the couple of free days her group had to enjoy Santorini before heading back to Korea. Haseul, Jinsoul, Kim Lip, and Choerry all went out right in the morning, but Heejin opted to stay in the lodge the group was staying in at the top of one of the many hills of Santorini, intending to enjoy the pool and relax. She took her orange bikini, sprayed plenty of sunscreen on her body, and laid in one of the chairs poolside. Her body was glowing under Helios. Heejin had never felt so confident before, just deciding to spend the whole day playing in the pool by herself, enjoying being all alone in such a cozy and spacious lodge with no eyes watching her.

Heejin loved the total privacy she was getting that day, so much so that she started getting bolder and thinking of things she had never done before. As the hours passed by, she stripped herself naked, laid on the chair, and just closed her eyes, taking a nice and relaxing nap with her bare body on display. However, she would suddenly be disrupted by some noise.

A shocked Heejin rushed to cover her intimate parts as she saw a man repairing one of those classic white-painted houses in Santorini, panicking at the thought of him seeing her naked. She wasn't told anyone was going to make any repairs close to the lodge, unleashing her anger at the man. "What are you doing? Stop looking at me, you pervert. What are you waiting for? Get out!" Heejin furiously yelled. The man climbed down the stairs as Heejin covered her boobs with her left hand. "Are you crazy?" he asked. Indeed, you had the right to be shocked much more than her, as you definitely weren't expecting your little job you got in Santorini during tourist season to deliver such an awkward experience as seeing a naked East Asian woman yelling at you.

Heejin looked petrified, biting her nails as her cheeks turned red out of embarrassment. But her naughtier side was also looking at the sights of a muscular guy whose body seemed sculpted by the gods Greece is so famous for. She thought of the whole scene all night, struggling to sleep. Heejin's thoughts were divided between feeling embarrassed for being seen naked or for her rude behavior towards the guy. As a new day arrived, Heejin surprisingly decided to stay at the lodge once again. "I'll catch you later," she told her groupmates, as her day started like the previous one, but this time with a major headache that permeated her thoughts.

Heejin walked towards the same place where the man was doing his repairs yesterday. Her heart raced the moment she saw you shirtless working on that beautiful house. She set her sights on you, watching how you perform your craft before heading in your direction. "Excuse me?" Heejin asked. "I'm here to say I'm sorry for yesterday; I wasn't aware someone would be in the vicinity," she continued. You didn't say a word to her, pretending not to understand what she said. A saddened Heejin just ended up walking back to her lodge as you kept working.

But she wasn't going to give up easily. Heejin decided she was going to bring the guy she had a crush on by any means. A goddess always gets what she wants, especially the goddess of love and beauty. Heejin found the company the repair guy worked for and sent them a request for work in the lodge. You felt dreaded when you got the call, as you knew it was the address from the woman who had rudely yelled at you, but you had to do the job. But as you arrived at the door and rang the bell, no one was there to answer.

For a moment, you almost thought it was a prank. What if that mad East Asian woman just wanted to take revenge on you for ignoring her? Knowing your company had a 30-minute tolerance policy, Heejin made you wait for nearly the whole time while she was inside the lodge, enjoying you desperately ringing the doorbell multiple times to no avail. She got herself ready, and just as time was about to expire, a familiar silhouette appeared at the door, wearing just a black robe as if she had just gotten out of the shower.

Heejin slowly dropped the robe as she walked through the door, unveling the same body that caused the whole scuffle a day ago. Up close, she was even more stark, beautiful from top to bottom, a goddess-esque beauty. As she walked the final steps towards the door, you could only contemplate every single part of her: her perfect hair, her lustful eyes, her small nose, her cute lips, her sexy collarbones, her perky little tits, her flat belly, her bare legs, and, most importantly, her tight trimmed pussy. Your eyes just moved involuntarly at this point, going toe to head, head to toe, multiple times as if they were looking at the incarnation of a goddess.

"You're crazy," was your first reaction as you smiled. Heejin laughed. "No, I'm Aphrodite," she replied, putting her right hand on your neck as she kissed you. The goddess of love, lust, beauty, passion, pleasure, and most importantly, procreation. Heejin took the initiative from the start, unbuttonning your shirt as she kept kissing you. As she fully took your shirt off, you pushed her body closer to yours, giving her your most passionate kiss yet and running your left hand into her ass.

Heejin placed her hands on your torso and shoved you in the direction of the pool where your first meeting had happened. For a girl of her size, she was surprisingly strong, to the point that you were starting to believe she was indeed a goddess. Once you two had reached poolside, Heejin shoved you once again, this time towards not a regular pool chair but a whole king-size bed waiting for the two of you. The bed wasn't there at any moment previously, serving as a gift from the gods to their little Aphrodite. You looked at her perfect body as you lied on it, the remaining clothes on your body vanishing the moment your back hit the mattress. Heejin slowly climbed on it, crawling on top of your body as she gave you more kisses.

Her smile was beautiful and had you at your weakest every time she showed it. Her mouth sucked yours in a way resembling that of a soul eater. Heejin moved down your body and licked your still flaccid shaft for the first time, instantly turning it into a hard, throbbing, erected pole. You tugged her hair as you watched her lick it, groaning as she closed your eyes and delivered a tongue sweep of your tip. Heejin laughed as you reacted to it, repeating the move a few times before inserting it in her warm mouth, sucking it slowly while softly grabbing the base with her left hand. Her eyes full of lust looked at you as she now had both hands working her magic on your dick, using the right hand to stroke it hard while the left one still held the base.

Heejin now moved faster, turning a quick succession of blowjobs into her first deepthroat of your instrument. She had you on the edge from the start, continuing to rapidly suck it with little care if you were going to last for long. She treated your cock like a lollipop, making pop sounds as she put it in and out of her mouth and slapping it on her model-esque face and her sexy tongue. You couldn't resist her fast-paced blowjob for long as you started thrusting upwards to pound her throat. Heejin just took the hands of your cock and enjoyed your attempt to reach the depths of her mouth, trying to take as long as she could before inevitably gagging as she coughed on your penis.

Right after, Heejin gave you another smile and went back to her quick sucking ways before climbing on top of you while never keeping her hands out of your cock, stroking it fast and hard. Another fast and sloppy blowjob followed suit, and then you slowly guided her head in and out of your shaft, hearing the sexy popping noises every time her mouth pulled out of it. You gave her a pair of facefucks that made her cough once more before you too were competing to see who was faster: her hands stroking down your cock or your cock hitting Heejin up her mouth.

"I wanna ride your cock," Heejin whispered to your ear as she got it ready with hard strokes that had you throbbing harder than ever. You laid your back on the bed and watched her body cover the sun on top of you before moving to a straight position where she started grinding her entrance on your shaft. "Yeah, yeah," she softly moaned as her folds rubbed the sides of your pole. Heejin moaned the hardest when your tip hit her clit, as you held your cock firmly by the base for her to better grind on it, moving it a bit forward as she started going up, in such a way that once she went down, Heejin now had it fully inserted in her pussy.

"AHHHHHH," Heejin moaned beautifully as you filled her insides. Her ride was very slow, but she could take it deep from the start. Her moans after the first were soft and out of breath; her open mouth and closed eyes looked so visually pleasing as she bounced on your cock. "Oh, fuck, fuck. Oh God, you're so huge," she continued as she spread her legs and you ran your hands in her sexy thighs. At first, you just passively enjoyed it and let Heejin do all the work, moaning at each thrust, before joining in and pounding her from below as well. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Heejin moaned quickly before she regained her composure and increased the speed of her ride.

"Yes, rub my clit, touch my pussy," she said as you reached your left hand into her genitals. Now Heejin's ride had reached a new level as your thumb poked her clit while she kept bouncing. "Harder," you asked her, leading to more rapid moans as she picked up the pace. Heejin put her hands on your chest and moved closer to you as you took the opportunity to kiss her while giving her pussy fast and hard poundings that quickly had her screaming, leading Heejin to react with a laugther as she coped with the sudden heat in her hole. She kept herself collected and switched to a slower pace, firmly scratching her nails on your chest and kissing you before going back to her original straightening position, keeping her body away from you and leaving you as just a spectator for her pleasure.

"Such a nice big cock; make me feel it deep," Heejin ordered in whispers as she continued to ride it. Her moans increased the tune; a few ahs were replaced by many yeses, and finally a loud "OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK" that she screamed as if she were singing a high note. You tried once again to take advantage of her and pounce, but she was ready and just moved a little forward to keep moving as if nothing had happened. You tried to put your hands on her neck, but that didn't slow her down at all, having the opposite effect as she made sure you would now groan at each bounce.

"OH MY GODDDDD," Heejin finally showed some vulnerability, and you were finally able to strike, hitting her cunt fast and deep as her mouth opened to the fullest with her body tilting towards your chest and her screaming her lungs out right at your left ear. Heejin clings to you as you grab her from behind, and you too have a romantic makeout. She switches sides as she now faces the beautiful Aegean Sea in the background. "Yes, please give me your cock," she demands, ready for a new round of riding, but not before you slap it multiple times on her thorbbing vaginal lips, playing hide and seek with your shaft, eventually resting it under her ass as she grinds her folds on it once more. She moans as your tip goes in and you spread her cheeks for another ride, starting slowly before you spank her ass and ask her to go harder.

Heejin obliges, and with her body fully lined up against yours, she furiously rides your dick, giving you no rest whatsoever. Heejin may be the goddess, but now she's the one worshipping your divine cock. "Come on, faster," you demand of her with a big spank in her ass. Heejin goes harder, bouncing on you like a maniac as you now grab her by the waist. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" she screams the moment you put her ride to a halt and attack her cunt full speed, only stopping to slap her butt before you give her pussy another fast attack to the point your cock slips out of it. After this burst gets you tired, Heejin now tops you with her toes on top of her thighs, but you quickly answer back, making her cute little feet tremble as you shake her base. "DON'T STOP," she demands as you give her your biggest strike, making her skin red as she gets out of breath and recoupling herself with a slow and passionate ride aftewards as you suck her perky little tits.

"My clit yes, please," she says once again as you duck your hands under her entrance and fingers her with your penis still inside her stretched babyhole. "Yeah," Heejin moans as you circle around it, even touching your own shaft in the process. Your movements now increase as you make sure to stimulate the whole surface of her clitoris. The way she still manages to bounce on your dick makes it even hotter. Her pussy gets wetter as you increase the stimulation and attack her insides with your cock once again, just resting her head down in the bed as her cunt gets destroyed. Her ass gets slapped once more as you pull out of her and let her now take turns giving you a hot ride with her body tilted to her left before taking yet another massive pounding that makes her cheeks clap, spreading her ass as you strike once more and make her let out crying-esque moans.

Overwhelmed by your length, Heejin has to slow down. And wow, she really loves the cowgirl position, taking you once again on it, but this time in reverse, putting her hands on your belly as you look at her sexy back and soft ass, but not before doing her classic pole-grinding moves on your dick. "OHHHH," you groan. "AHHHH," she groans as your cock goes back inside her tight little slit. This time, Heejin goes for a very elongated ride, almost taking your cock completely out of her pussy at the top. "Slow and deep, slow and deep," she repeats to herself, already out of breath and giving out angelic moans each time she reaches the bottom of your massive member.

"Yes, rub my pussy just like that," Heejin demands as you return to stimulate her folds, catching her by surprise to the point your cock slips out of her hole, which Heejin quickly corrects. "Keep going, keep going; work your hands in my beautiful goddess pussy," she says. You give Heejin no rest, plowing her pussy fast with both hands now on her clit, spreading it wide open for the whole world to see as her juices coat your cock. Her clit is now harder than your dick, and her nipples are fully erect as she lets out more soft screams as you take her over the moon with your fast-paced poundings.

You pull out and keep teasing her erogenous zones, circling around her nipples and rubbing your tip on Heejin's throbbing clit before putting your cock back inside her. "Shit, yes, yes, yes," she says as you give her little pumps that hit her insides, before increasing the pace as you grab her legs. "Oh, you fuck me so good!" she exclaims, her little tits bouncing at each fucking. "Rub this pussy," you order her as she starts frenetically rubbing her clit. "Please make me cum," she says as her legs clench and she lacks the strength to continue riding before recomposing herself and taking it slowly, giving your tip a great treat as it hits the hood of your clit. Heejin changes her motion with long and deep bounces at moderate speed before you start clapping your balls hard in her entrance.

"Oh, please eat my pussy; just eat my pussy," she says as she sits it on your face with her hands on your belly. "Ride my face," you order her as Heejin starts to move, holding hands with you as you lick her hard-pounded cunt. "Good boy," she praises you as she goes down for the 69, taking it deep until she coughs and spits on your penis. You slap her ass a bit, as she now has her mouth full of your balls, going fast on your dick and slapping it on your tongue. You fuck her face hard on top of you, to which she laughs, as you now grab her perky tits as well. Heejin jerks off your cock more before she gives another order. "Please fuck my mouth," she says.

You grab Heejin's hair, tying it up so her beautiful face doesn't have anything standing between it and your big cock. You start slow as Heejin also bobs her head. It turns out her mouth isn't her pussy, as an upside-down Heejin coughs all over your cock and struggles to even take it halfway in. She tries to adjust, but a quick pounding already has saliva flying all over her mouth as she bubbles on your dick. Heejin tries to smile, but she is clearly overwhelmed, instead getting on her knees and gently jerking your cock as she gives you a cute kiss.

"Fuck me from behind," she tells you as you get out of bed. Her pussy looks very stretched out and extremely wet as you spread her cheeks. Like usual, you rub your thobbing tip on Heejin's similarly thobbing inner lips and insert it first just to tease her before pulling it out. It seems like the entire blood of Heejin's body now flows to her cunt, as just a simple touch in her vaginal area makes her moan. You continue to tease her with the tip-fucking, not committing your full length, as just a quarter of your cock inside makes her scream.

As Heejin lets out her first laugh in a while, you insert your cock halfway in, still giving her slow pumps. "Such a nice ass," you praise her bottom assets, still treating her pussy gently, especially in comparison to what you did early on. But you can't resist for long, inserting it fully back on Heejin's wet pussy, leading to another scream as she reaches peak sensitivity, closing her legs and pushing your cock out of her hole. Heejin now just closes her eyes, trying to stay on her knees as you slowly fuck her slit once again. But every deeper thrust makes her lose it. You grab her cheeks as you increase the pace before deciding to use no hands and getting into rhythm. Heejin puts her head on the bed and keeps her eyes closed. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she rapdily repeats as you push harder, even squeaking a little.

You couldn't resist for long, now firmly grabbing Heejin's ass and clapping her cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes, please, please, please," she begs. Her small tits bounce a lot. At this point, you two were just exploring every possibility. As Heejin got a little less sensitive, she was now the one rocking her hips against your crotch, which ended up being bad for her as you just grabbed her butt and reasserted your dominance. "AHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed once more as her tits were once again jiggling. Heejin held your right hand as the fire continued to burn inside her pussy; she no longer had any strength to resist your advances, just clinting to you as you destroyed her cunt nonstop, and only AHs came out of her mouth now.

Heejin turned around and opened her legs for you to eat her out; her messy hair now had untied itself and hit her eyes. You lick her like ice cream, starting at her hole and going all the way up to her little trim, before diving into her clit and making her twist. Heejin put her right foot on your back to support herself as you continued to lick her before inserting a finger in her pussy and tasting it. Now you were tonguing her clit hard to the point where she squirted a little in your mouth. You increased the hit by adding a second finger while still licking it. Heejin fell weaker, pressing her foot harder against your back as your tongue turned her folds wetter for the final round.

"Breed me. Put a baby inside a goddess; I know you want it, she told you as she put her right leg up and you slowly fucked her in missionary. You put her right foot in your mouth as you went faster. Heejin fingered herself as she waited for your cum; her insides were extremely sensitive. "Fuck me like this," she asked you as you two kept going. Your thrusts got faster but shallower as you kissed her beautiful feet and rubbed her belly. Going faster, you put Heejin under a mating press, which she enjoyed a lot, meaning she was going to get inseminated the same way the whores from the many hentais she loves to read are. Despite that, she still managed to finger herself. "Give me your cum; give me your cum," she demanded as you groaned and got closer. "Cum in my pussy," she continued, as you eventually unleashed inside her womb with your cock balls deep in her, coating her insides with your sperm as some rolled out a little while you pulled out and teased her clit for one final time with your tip.

"Wow, I can't believe you came inside me," Heejin said. "I can't say no to a goddess," you said as you returned home. The following day, you went back to the lodge but found it empty. It turns out Heejin and her ARTMS groupmates had already flown back to Korea.

Meanwhile, on the plane...

"Heejin, are you okay?" Haseul asked, sensing her groupmate's sickness. "Sorry, I'm a little sick. I think I drank too much last night when we went out," Heejin replied as she barely had time to finish her sentence, unhooking her seatbelt and rushing to the plane's bathroom, where she threw up the food she had just eaten.

[seresinhangmanjake]

A Trade

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When Feyd asked for your hand, your father refused and took you away from him. Now he’ll do anything to get you back, and he’s not above kidnapping your sister to offer a trade.

Notes/Warnings: kidnapping and threats of death. I think that’s it. Feyd’s soft for reader.

Words: 4000

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

He sits quietly, his chair facing another of its matching set, and leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees. His hands clasp, fingers squeezing and releasing and squeezing and releasing in an effort to suppress the rage he hasn’t been able to let go of for weeks.

With eyes scanning over the figure sitting his opposite, Feyd’s teeth grind, wearing down the grit of his molars. It’s hard not to scrutinize. As he takes in every feature of her face, his lips and eyebrows involuntarily quirk in distaste. It’s not that her features aren’t nicely proportionate or well-placed on the structure of her face; they’re just…wrong. Familiar, but incorrect. 

“You don’t look like her,” he says. 

Her stare is just as intense as the one he knows so well. And though she may not look quite right, the aura she exudes does not stray from what he expects of someone with her blood. 

She jerks on the binds that are keeping her wrists locked behind her back and huffs when they don’t give way to her strength. “Well, we aren’t twins,” she states. 

There’s a bite there, but no soft edge to cushion the blow. She doesn’t know the proper way to deal with him. She doesn’t know how to ease the tension in his bones with her words. He supposes that is one of many things that makes the difference. It’s why he loves you and would not love a woman like her. 

Again she tugs on the ropes confining her. 

“Don’t bother,” he says.

She lets out a groan before finally surrendering. “You know, she told me all about you. About what became of the two of you. How it happened,” she says. “And I understand. I do. But do you honestly believe having your men abduct me was the best idea?” 

Feyd leans back in his chair. His arms cross over his chest. You are the only one who questions him, the only one allowed to question him, and his jaw ticks as he pulls back on the desire to slide a blade across your sister’s cheek.

“I do,” he says. 

Your sister shakes her head. “You know they’re giving her to Kenric. Father is with her on their planet in the process of signing a formal agreement.”

Feyd shoots up, hungry acid eating his insides. He’d heard news of the pending engagement, but he does not care to listen to those words strung together for a second time, especially not in a voice that so closely resembles yours. It makes him want to hurt something, damage something, but when the nearest target flinches at the sharpness of his movement, he pauses. You would want him to pause. He takes a breath and runs his hand down his face before circling to the back of the chair and gripping the edge of the seat. His knuckles whiten. 

“She is not marrying Kenric,” Feyd says. “Your House will give her back to me if I offer them you in return.”

She hums, unconvinced, and a crease forms at the center of his brow. He’s far from appreciative of how unsure she seems, considering this plan was the only one well-formed enough for execution. As the second born, she may not be as important as you are, but she’s a daughter of a Great House nonetheless, and no elite would allow the death of one of their own, certainly not their child, without some attempt at preservation first. They'll have to agree to his terms.

But if they don’t…

Feyd stares into the blank space by your sister’s head, his vision hazy, shapes blurring with each image of you that travels around his mind. Things had been so well. Content, yet passionate. Fulfilling. They’d been as close to perfect as Feyd could recognize from others’ descriptions of the feeling. 

You were a gift unto him without anyone realizing it. Your parents sent you for education, for experimentation, for practice in learning how to infiltrate other Houses so when the day comes for you to lead beside another, you would have the knowledge and skillset to manipulate any Great line from the inside out.

It wasn’t presented that way to his uncle, of course. You were introduced with the suggestion that the Baron see a curious girl, an innocent flower wanting to expose herself to foreign practices. But the act did not fool Feyd. He instantly saw the spots where the rose’s thorns had been clipped. What stood before him was a weapon briefly tamed for the sake of disguise who would grow back her barbs once planted within his walls. And he found much amusement in your deception.

It took mere weeks for you to fall with Feyd into deep affection. You were always around, always peering where you should not have been peering, listening to what did not belong to your ears, and when he got fed up with your lack of covertness, he confronted you. Confrontation which led to lessons in stealth that tucked the both of you into dark corners hidden from prying eyes. Dark corners that only shadowed your bodies if you were pressed against one another. Bodies that were so close breaths couldn’t help but intertwine. Breaths that brushed heat over faces and ceased only when lips met.

And then with one mistake, one request, you were gone. Kidnapped by your family’s guards. Taken from behind his turned back. Sand through his fingers.

“I believed her when she told me you loved her,” your sister says, snapping Feyd back to attention. Her mouth is parted, and as her eyes scan his face, they’re alight with something akin to wonder but with a few tainting specks of disgust. A reasonable reaction; one he anticipated. Her sister in bed with a Harkonnen—how horrible. “Nevertheless, it's fascinating to witness for myself.”

Feyd’s eyes narrow. His spine straightens. He squares his shoulders. “I asked for her hand first. She should be mine.”

A scoff bursts from your sister’s throat. “That is not what I have heard,” she tells him. “You did not ask; you demanded. And you were both naive,” she says. “She was not sent here to fall in love. Not to mention, your family has a reputation you should not forget.”

“She does not fear me,” he snaps. 

“She does not have to.”

“I am a Lord, an heir, as much as any other son of the Great Houses. My title makes me worthy. They had no valid reason to reject me and take her.”

“Do you think there isn’t more to it than any title put upon you?” she asks before she says, “It’s the wars your House involves yourselves in. The greed. The possessiveness. The pale hands in everyone else’s pots. The children you would produce.”

His jaw clenches. “And what would be wrong with our children?”

“What would be right with them? Everyone would fear the deplorable monsters they might grow to be with your blood coursing through their veins.”

Feyd’s heart prickles. 

He hadn’t thought much of children; he’d simply thought of you and what it would take to keep you by his side. Anything else he’d deemed the concerns of a much later time, but now, with it forced into his mind, he finds himself unexpectedly devastated. Normally he wouldn’t care about opinions, but to understand what ideas others might conjure up at the possibility of your union sickens him. The children you would create would be nothing less than flawless. Warriors. Survivors. Leaders. A pristine blending of you both. He knows it. 

Your sister’s chest caves with a heavy sigh. “Look, I do not say these things to hurt you in retaliation for dragging me here against my will. They are fact.”

In his silence, Feyd can feel her studying him from the inside out, not wasting a single passing second. Her position—the ties around her wrists that keep her bound to the chair—which would cause great concern to others, seems to fade in importance against her consistent, concentrated observing. It does not last long before he grows tired of it. 

“What?” he spits.

Pity bleeds into her irises. “She did try to convince them,” she says. “She claimed you’re different than you appear. Not as harsh. Not as impulsive as everyone believes.”

His gaze falls to his feet. “She was lying.”

“Clearly,” your sister agrees. Then her voice tips; softens. “But she was desperate. She would’ve said anything, though it wouldn’t have mattered. They refused to listen.”

Feyd’s eyelids pinch. He can picture you as desperate as he is. Begging. Begging as a Lady such as yourself would beg: with wit and strategy, utilizing every trick in the book short of falling on your knees. You’re like him. He begs as you do, but in his own way, with his own tricks.

“What do you believe will come of this? Really.”

Feyd looks up at her. “I told you, she will be mine again,” he doesn’t hesitate to say. “That is what will come of this.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” she asks. “Will you stop?”

“What do you think?”

As if he had cracked open her skull to reveal her brain, Feyd has an unobstructed view of each one of her thoughts nestling deeply into her mind. She said so herself what she and her House—what all Houses—think of him. War, greed, possessiveness. And he is but a fraction of the Harkonnen’s totality of power. What he’s done by taking her brushes the cusp of his capabilities, and his uncle would not restrain him from conquering another planet and snuffing out an elite lineage to obtain what he desires.

As your sister runs through the many repercussions of his plan’s potential failure, he decides he has wasted enough of his time on her. He can no longer stand to look at the face that lacks the features he prefers.

“Where are you going?” she says when he turns on his heel. 

“We’re done for now. You’ll be escorted to the guest quarters.”

“Not a cell?”

Feyd halts. 

“You’re her sister,” he says over his shoulder. And then he leaves her behind. 

—

“They’ll come today.”

Your sister looks up from the plate of food in front of her, her eyes landing on Feyd as he stops just in front of the dining table where she sits.

He’s reminded again how different she is from you. How when you sat in that same seat—a seat he is struggling not to scold your sister for occupying—you were the lone bright object in the room. Nothing about this soul-sucking black hole was capable of dimming you, and yet your contrast fit perfectly. You slotted into his fortress as if you were meant to one day rule over its every occupant, himself included. But Giedi Prime’s design does not blend well with your sister. She’s a royal-purple-velvet, gold-embroidered splotch in a sea of onyx black, and he wants nothing more than to remove her.

Soon. You will be back with him soon. Soon, you will be eating in that seat. You will be wearing his clothes. You will be existing in this space as you should be.

“How do you know?” your sister asks. 

Feyd blinks. “It’s been three days. Enough time to have been informed of your absence and return home to confirm it,” he says. “And she’ll know where you are.”

“You’re so sure?”

He gives a single nod. “She knows me,” he replies. “She knows taking you is not out of the realm of what I would do for her.”

---

Reader POV

You know where she is. From the moment your parents were informed of her disappearance and the three of you rushed to your home planet, not a single of your seconds was wasted on juggling alternative possibilities. How it is not blatantly obvious to everyone else is a shock, but perhaps your sister’s missing presence from the palace has turned frantic minds to mush. You’re the only one who isn’t running about, searching through closets and under beds as if a grown woman is playing a child’s game. 

You have to tell them. Recovering your sister cannot be a solo mission, despite how much easier that would be. Not to mention, to leave for Giedi Prime without notifying your parents would rightfully increase their panic, and no good would come of that.

So you speak his name.

They call him a demon. A monster. They curse and condemn him. How dare he demand one daughter and, after being denied, so quickly move on to stealing another. The implication that he’s taken your sister to replace you makes you ill, but to defend the love you share with him would further stir their tempers. 

“You’re certain?” Your mother asks through the trembling hand covering her horrified mouth. 

You meet your father’s blazing stare and try to ignore the hateful bile gathering at the corners of his lips. You nod. “I should go alone,” you tell them. 

“Absolutely not.”

“He’ll listen to me. He will not be cooperative with you.”

“That creature will listen to no one!”

“I know him. His thoughts, his tactics,” you argue. “I’m the one person who can get through to him.”

To his credit, your father takes a calming breath. It can not be denied that his emotions often guide him over logic, but he’s not a man known for idiocy. He sent you to the Harkonnens, and he’s not forgotten how well you’ve been trained to learn from your environment.

“Fine,” he eventually agrees. But he does not accommodate you beyond that. 

All efforts to ease his disgust for your lover fall on deaf ears. He won’t hear that Feyd hasn’t hurt your sister. He won’t believe that he hasn’t peeled her skin from her bones or starved her out of her perfectly tailored dresses. And though his eyes threaten you to surrender your conviction, to confirm his ideas and stoke the flame of his fury, you don’t give in.

Arriving at the doors of Giedi Prime’s fortress is done without guards flanking your sides. They stay on the ship. “He doesn't respond to intimidation strategies,” you tell your father. “It’s best not to storm his home with forces in tow and demand things of him.” Not lies, but you can’t say you’re honest for the sake of striking a deal without inflicting wounds on each other’s guards. True that it’s best to avoid an all-out battle, but it’s more true that your motivations are guided by seeing him again. 

When you do finally see him, you see no one else. The world falls apart and you cannot tear your eyes from his face. Neither can he keep his off of you. You’re yards apart, a rooms-span away, and yet you can already feel him from the anticipation of being in his arms. You’ve been living off of the memories of his touch, and now here he is, almost within reach.

Your father is shouting, but your heartbeat thumping in your ears shields you from the full power of his voice. “You dare steal my daughter!” you think he says. “Where is she!”

Feyd ignores him. He stares still. His mouth parts. And then, with determination in his steps, he walks to you. 

Before you can bask in the warmth of his looming closeness, his arm is reaching toward you, and in what seems like the blink of an eye, his palm slides across your cheek, his fingers weave with the strands of your hair, and he pulls you into a kiss.

Instantly, the long-awaited sensation threatens to kick your legs out from under you. Your bones warn of their weakening strength. Your heart briefly stops, but then beats return with a ferocity that could shame a beast in battle.

The *shing* of your father’s metal blade unsheathing is met with its sister sound from the multiple swords of Feyd’s guards. It buys you a few more seconds of holding each other, and you use those seconds to give all that you can.

Feyd knows how to kiss you. You know how to kiss each other. Though relatively tame in front of your current audience, he kisses with the promise of what his mouth would do to yours were you alone; echoes of what you shared before you were taken.

When you sense your time is about to run out, you plant your hands on Feyd’s chest, and as he cups your cheeks, you break the kiss. Your eyes find home in his. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper. 

He grins ever so slightly. “They can have her,” he says. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones and he rests his forehead against yours. “But I’m keeping you.”

I’m yours is on your lips, but his body is partially jerked out of your arms before you can speak. All gentleness in your lover switches off like a light. 

“Get off of my daugh–” 

Your father chokes, his nails clawing at the hand around his neck. 

“You don’t tell me not to touch her!” Feyd shouts with a squeeze, slowly pulling your father closer. Being inches shorter, your father must stand on his toes to keep Feyd’s grip as loose as possible, and as much as you find yourself enjoying the sight, you cannot allow it to continue.

“Feyd,” you start. As you caress his flexed bicep, you keep your tone velvety. “Feyd, let him go.” But he does not hear you. Or he does not listen. His fingers tighten. Your father’s face swells red. “Listen to me. I love you. No one is going to take me away from you. I won’t let that happen. You won’t let that happen. We will be married. We will be here, together, just you and me as we planned,” you tell him, “but I want you to let him go.”

A beat passes. Two beats. Three. Then Feyd expels the breath he’d been holding. His chest deflates, and one by one, his fingers unpeel from your father’s skin. 

Your father heaves. “Y-You…” he says through his attempts to recover. His hand rubs his rapidly bruising flesh. “You are promised…to Kenric. The agreement was all but–” he coughs “–but signed.”

A growl emerges, and from your left, Feyd lunges. Your father gasps. His eyes widen as he stumbles a step backward. 

“No!” You rush in front of Feyd to grab his face. Shaking your head, your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “No,” you repeat softly. 

The heat in his irises soothes as he keeps his eyes on you. His arm curls around your waist, and his gaze drops to your mouth. You want to kiss him again. You almost do, but then you remember why you’re here.

You look to the nearest Harkonnen guard, one of many you’re familiar with after your time on Giedi Prime. “Bring my sister. Please.”

He glances at his Lord, who nods in response to the silent question. Then Feyd’s attention returns to you, his eyes go to your lips, and he leans in. 

You struggle to care about anything other than his taste. After you were taken, you were lost to the devastation of believing your mouth and tongue and teeth would never have him again. And you’re lost now. Lost in the pleasure of those fears extinguishing. So lost that not even the echo of approaching footsteps is enough to cleave your bodies apart. 

“A relief to see that clothes are still on,” your sister’s voice greets. Reluctantly, you unseal your mouth from Feyd’s to look past his shoulder at your sister. There’s an unreadable expression on her face as she watches him bury his face in your neck. Acceptance, or revulsion.

Thankfully, your father seems to have missed her comment, so focused on seeing her well and unharmed. He takes an unsteady step in her direction. “Daughter–”

The Harkonnen releases your sister from his hold and she meets your father the rest of the way. “I’m fine, father.”

“That monster–”

“Didn’t do a thing.” Her eyes flick to the hand covering his throat. One brow arches as her head turns your way. “To me.”

Your father draws her into a hug, his hand going to the back of her head. “Good. Good,” he says. “Then let us take you both home.”

A chill runs throughout your limbs. Feyd’s arms cinch around your waist. He lifts his head, his vision glazed over as his eyes prod yours. “You’re not leaving,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You are leaving,” your father intrudes, his voice dropping an octave. “You are leaving this place. You are leaving that beast.”

Your sister sighs. “Father…”

“You are returning home, and you will marry Kenric.”

A muffled noise rumbles in Feyd’s throat. Like thunder on the horizon. A threat of a storm. You press your palm against his heart to feel the beats harder, faster. 

“We departed before anything was signed,” you say. 

Your father stomps his foot like a petulant child. “You made a commitment!”

Your head jerks back, and suddenly, red infects your sight. Intent on approaching your father, you untangle yourself from Feyd’s arms, but fingers latch onto your wrist, keeping you from gaining significant distance. You let him hold you back. 

“You made a commitment!” you snap.

“And I will keep it!”

Nails dig into your pulse point, and you know Feyd is straining against his urges as much as you are. “No,” you push. “You will walk free with one of your daughters, and the other will remain where she belongs!”

“You do not belong here!”

“Yes, I–”

“Father,” your sister repeats. 

He whips around. “What!”

“Let them be,” she says. 

Silence falls over the room. Feyd’s grip eases but does not disappear.

“He is selfish and stubborn and feels no guilt in how he loves her,” she continues. “I can’t say I’m interested in seeing what else he’d be willing to do to get her back should she be ripped away from him again, but I have no doubt it would be devastating. And I’m sure you would not survive twice.” 

Your father’s brows dip in the center. His fist clenches. “Do not disrespect me.”

“It's not disrespect,” she says. “I would fear for you, for our people, our home. Leave her, and I will marry Kenric.” 

You suck in a sharp breath.

“I have no attachments to any man. It causes me no harm to step into my sister’s place.”

“No.” Your father shakes his head. “I won’t allow it.”

“You will if you’re smart,” she replies. Tension radiates from your father, his body practically shaking where he stands. “And surely you aim to be a smart man. Surely you don’t intend to take unnecessary risks that could hurt everything our House is meant to protect.”

He opens his mouth, but the threat of humiliation is enough to shut him up. It has always been an area where he falters. Inadequacy and the fear of being looked down upon. It’s why you were marrying the son of Lord Kenric. Your House is not a weak one by many standards, but your father could not let go of the whispers among other Houses that they are stronger. He sought a match effective in showing your equals the value of his House and offspring. And blinded by his decision, there was no room for him to consider the consequences.

You watch in awe as he stands down, shrinking in the shadow of your sister’s wisdom. A smart man indeed. 

When your sister nears you, she reaches out to take your hand in hers. Feyd releases you as, for the moment, his nemesis has been subdued.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell her. “I’m prepared to fight him tooth and nail.”

She lightly chuckles. “Your brute would burn down the world. This is what’s best. Safest.”

“You’re sure?”

“I'd decided on this path before you arrived,” she says.

You look for hesitation, any regret, but she’s a stone wall—sturdy in her decision—and you recognize that arguing would implant a tone of dismissiveness of her wishes. 

“Thank you,” you mouth.

Your sister squeezes your fingers. She tips her head to you before she glances at Feyd. You peek over your shoulder, but his face is blank. Whatever passes between them is indecipherable—some unspoken understanding. 

“Keep him in line,” she says. Then she steps away from you.

Your father glares the entire way out of the fortress, and you know you’ve severed your ties today. You’ve made a choice, picked a side, and neither he nor your mother will ever understand. Whether or not they’ve become an enemy you will learn in time, but at the very least, it is unlikely you will be welcomed into the home where you grew up. A sacrifice you accept. 

As the doors close, Feyd comes up behind you. His arms circle your waist. Your back meets his chest. His lips plant on your neck. “Come to bed,” he says. 

You grin.

---

A/N: thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know :)

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔣

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: After enduring an incredibly stressful exam, you finally breathe a sigh of relief as it comes to an end. Mike does everything in his power to help you unwind and relax.

Tags: Part 7 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike (reader is 20 years old). Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Slow paced smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Rimming (R receiving). Anal sex.

Suggested by a really nice person. Hope you like it and sorry it took me this long.

Words count: 4000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

You spent every night leading up to the exam reviewing notes, revisiting past papers, and checking your study materials for any gaps in knowledge. It felt like everything you'd learned had evaporated, leaving you with only vague recollections of concepts that once seemed clear.

Sitting in the exam hall, the quiet rustle of papers, the ticking of a clock, and the occasional cough or sniffle from fellow students only heightened your awareness. You found yourself hyper-focused on everything except the exam itself. It wasn't until the final minutes were called that you felt a burst of clarity, rushing through the last few questions with a determination you hadn't felt since the beginning.

Afterward, your body felt drained, as if the weight of your anxiety had been released all at once. All you wanted to do was collapse and forget about everything for a while.

You squinted against the bright light outside, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the late afternoon sun. The campus was buzzing with life. Students milling about, laughing, talking, some excited, others looking just as worn out as you felt.

And then, through the haze of exhaustion, you saw him.

Mike.

He was standing by his car, a short distance away, clearly trying to blend in, though he stood out like a sore thumb among the groups of teenagers loitering around the area. He leaned against the side of his old, beat-up car with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his head tilted slightly down as if trying to avoid eye contact with anyone passing by. His posture was casual, but the subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed how awkward he felt, standing there in the middle of campus, surrounded by people younger than him.

He had always been a little uncomfortable around large crowds, especially when it involved people he didn't know.

Despite the awkwardness, the second Mike's eyes landed on you, his whole demeanor shifted. The tightness in his face softened, and his shoulders relaxed just a little. A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn't big or flashy, just a subtle, tired smile.

He straightened up a bit as you walked toward him, though his hands stayed buried in his pockets, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you reached him, the familiar scent of his worn leather jacket and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air around him. "How long have you been waiting?"

Mike shrugged, the motion almost too casual, like he didn't want to admit he'd probably been standing there for a while. His eyes flickered toward the students walking by, and he gave a small shake of his head. "Not too long. Though I'd get here early, make sure I didn't miss you."

You smiled at that, feeling a pang of affection for him.

"C'mon," Mike said, gesturing toward his car with a slight nod of his head. "Let's get out of here. You look like you could use a break."

You followed him to the passenger side, and he opened the door for you without a second thought.

The silence in the car wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite. You let your head fall back against the seat until you reached yours and Mike's home, your eyes half-closed as you watched the world blur past outside the window.

The house was quiet, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old floorboards underfoot. Mike sat on the bed, looking at you as you sank into the mattress with a tired sigh. He couldn't help but watch you, taking in every small detail of your stressed state, and yet somehow, to him, you still looked perfect.

His mind swirls with a mix of emotions. Relief that you were here, disbelief that you were with him, and something else, something deeper. It was the same overwhelming protectiveness he felt for Abby, the kind that made him want to shield you from everything bad in the world.

"How do you think it went?" Mike asked, his voice a little hoarse from the long day. He could still see the remnants of anxiety lingering in your expression, though the worst of it seemed to have passed now that it was over.

"It went okay," you replied, your voice soft but tinged with relief. "I don't know if I aced it, but at least I didn't fail."

Mike smiled faintly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I'm sure you did fine," he said, his tone reassuring. "You always do better than you think."

"Maybe," you muttered, still clearly uncertain but a little more at ease.

Mike let out a quiet grunt, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a small, tired smile as he laid back, letting his body relax into the bed. His hand, which had been resting on your arm, moved down slowly, absentmindedly tracing soft patterns on your skin. It wasn't intentional at first, just a natural gesture of comfort, but as the moments passed, he found himself more aware of the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the subtle tremble that ran through you every time his touch lingered a little longer.

"When I was your age, I could barely keep it together for anything, let alone school. You're doing a hell of a lot better than I ever did." Mike said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "You went to college, right? You told me you were going before... you know, before everything with Abby happened."

"Yeah," Mike muttered, a little gruff, as memories of those years surfaced. "I did, for a bit. But I was a mess. Dropped out before I could make anything of it." He shrugged, his tone nonchalant. "Sometimes life happens, I guess."

You were quiet for a moment, processing what he'd said, before replying softly, "But you're taking care of Abby now. That's what matters. I think you've done more than anyone could've expected."

Mike smiled again, a little more genuinely this time. "You always know how to say the right thing," he murmured, his voice low. His hand drifted down your arm to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your pants.

You didn't seem to think much of it, though, still lost in the conversation as you turned your head to face him more fully. "I don't know about always saying the right thing," you teased, "I almost caused a fight with your aunt at one point."

Mike chuckled, the sound low and tired, his breath warm as he leaned in just a little closer. "Yeah, but I liked that about you," he said, his voice softer now, his hand resting lightly on your thigh. "You always stand up for me, even when I don't deserve it."

"Of course. You deserve it," you replied quickly, almost defensively, which only made Mike smile more. His heart swelled a little at how earnest you were, how fiercely loyal you had been from the start.

As you spoke, Mike's hand drifted a little higher, his fingers now tracing light circles on your thigh, just barely brushing the skin beneath the fabric. He could feel the warmth radiating from you, and it was almost instinctual the way his body responded, his movements slow, deliberate, but still subtle enough that you didn't seem to notice right away.

He listened as you kept talking, your voice filling the comfortable silence of the room as you rambled on about the exam, your friends, and random things you'd seen at college. Mike didn't say much, just murmured responses here and there, nodding as you spoke, his tired eyes half-lidded as he watched you.

Without even thinking about it, he leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing against your cheek as you continued talking. You didn't seem to notice, too wrapped up in your thoughts, and Mike used that to his advantage, pressing soft kisses to your cheek, almost absentmindedly. The urge to be close to you growing stronger with each passing moment.

You didn't react much at first, though he noticed the subtle way your breath hitched just slightly whenever his lips lingered a little longer. He smiled against your skin, letting his hand drift further up your thigh, his fingers gently tracing along the hem of your pants.

He shifted a little closer, his body pressing lightly against yours as he kissed your cheek again, this time letting his lips linger longer before pulling back. It was clear you hadn't realized what Mike was doing, at least not fully, and that only made his heart race faster.

Mike shifted slightly, moving closer to you on the bed. His hand slipped from your leg to your waist, his fingers gently tracing the line of your hip. You were so warm, so soft, and he couldn't get enough of you.

You kept talking, unaware of the way Mike' thoughts were becoming less and less innocent. His hand slid up your side, his fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt, and for a brief moment, he hesitated. Was this too much? Was he pushing too far?

"How was your day? Did everything go okay with Abby?"

Mike blinked, momentarily surprised by the question. His mind had been so wrapped up in you that he had almost forgotten the rest of the day existed. "Yeah," he said slowly, his voice still soft. "Abby was good. She's been drawing a lot lately. She made something for you, actually.”

Your eyes lit up at that, and Mike's heart skipped a beat at the sight. God, you were so adorable when you got excited like that. It was little things like this that made him fall for you all over again, every single day.

"She did?" you asked, smiling widely now. "What did she make?"

Mike chuckled, his hand still resting on your side as he spoke. "It's a drawing of the three of us. You, me, and her. She was really proud of it."

You let out a soft laugh, leaning back against the pillows with a contented sigh. "That's so sweet. She's such a talented kid. I'm really lucky to be a part of her life."

Mike's chest tightened at your words. He knew how much Abby adored you, how much she looked up to you, how much she trusted you. It meant the world to him that you felt the same way.

Mike's kisses became more frequent the longer the conversation went on, his lips brushing against your cheek, your jawline, your temple.

"You're lucky?" Mike asked softly, his voice laced with disbelief. "I'm the lucky one. You're... I don't know how I got this lucky."

You tilted your head slightly, your cheeks a shade of red as you looked at him with a curious smile. "What do you mean?"

Mike's throat tightened as he tried to find the right words.

"You could be anywhere, with anyone. But you're here, with me. And I don't know what I did to deserve that." Mike told you, his voice faltering slightly. His hand moved up to your shoulder, his fingers gently squeezing as he looked down at you.

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression softening into something tender, something affectionate. "Mike, I'm here because I want to be. I'm here because I love you."

To Mike, those words meant everything. They were everything.

And at that moment, Mike couldn't hold back any longer. He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender. You kissed him back just as softly, your hand reaching up to rest on his arm, pulling him closer.

Mike's heart raced as the kiss deepened, his hand moving from your cheek to your waist, pulling you against him. There was something about the way you melted into his touch that made Mike's mind spin. You were his. You had chosen him. And he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

His lips found your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. Your breath hitched as you finally seemed to realize what was happening.

"Mike..." you breathed, your voice soft, a little hesitant, but not pulling away.

He didn't stop. He kissed his way down the side of your neck, his lips warm and gentle.

"Just relax," Mike muttered, his voice low and rough, as he kissed the sensitive skin of your collarbone, his teeth grazing the flesh just enough to make you gasp.

You were still, your breath coming in shallow bursts as Mike's lips moved up and down your neck, his hands now fully exploring your body with a slow, deliberate intent.

"You deserve it," Mike whispered against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear before he pulled back slightly to look at you again.

God, you were so handsome. He had thought it from the moment he first met you, but now it was different. Now he knew you, knew how kind and patient you were, knew how much you cared about him.

He wasn't in a rush. He didn't want to rush this. You were so precious to him, so important, and he wanted to savor every second of this moment.

Mike's lips found your collarbone, and he kissed his way across it, his teeth grazing your skin as he left small marks.

His hand moved lower, resting on your stomach, and he felt you tense slightly under his touch. But then you relaxed, your head falling back against the pillow as Mike pressed another kiss to your neck, this one slower, more deliberate.

As Mike's hands gripped your waist with a gentle firmness, he marveled at how perfectly you fit beneath him, as though you were made just for him.

His lips left slow trails along your body, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He lingered at your collarbone, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before biting down just enough to leave a mark. Your soft gasp in response spurred him on, and he grunted low in his throat as his lips traveled down your chest, nipping and kissing as he went.

You could feel the heat of his hands against your skin, the anticipation building as he slowly worked your pants down, his eyes never leaving yours. You turned around on your stomach to make it easier for him.

When your pants were finally off, Mike took a moment to just look at you. The sight of you, laid out beneath him, flushed with a mix of nerves and desire, was enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.

Mike's hands gently parted your legs, his touch firm yet tender, as he settled between them. His lips pressed softly against the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he moved closer to where you wanted him most.

He paused for a moment, his lips hovering just above you, his breath warm against your most sensitive area. The wait was torturous, and you bit your lip, barely able to contain the soft whimper that escaped. The sound of your need fueling him as he gently pressed his tongue against you, starting slow, teasing.

He took his time, savoring the way your body reacted to his touch. His tongue moved in long, slow strokes, exploring every inch of you with an almost lazy precision. He could feel the way your muscles tensed beneath his hands, the way your hips instinctively shifted, trying to get closer to him. But he was in control and he kept the pace slow, drawing out every sensation, every soft gasp that fell from your lips.

His hands gripped your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin as he held you in place, preventing you from squirming too much beneath him. The taste of you, the way your body responded so eagerly, had him groaning softly against your skin, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

As his tongue explored you, he started to add a little more pressure, his movements becoming more focused. His lips wrapped around you as he gently sucked, his tongue swirling in deliberate circles. Every stroke of his tongue, every gentle graze of his teeth, was designed to make you lose yourself in the sensation. He just loved the way you reacted, the way your hands gripped the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.

Mike slowly pulled back, his lips swollen and wet, his breath heavy as he looked up at you.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and rough, as his hands slid beneath you, cupping your butt softly. His fingers gently squeezed, his touch firm yet tender, as he spread you open, exposing you completely to him.

His tongue was on you again, gently circling around your entrance and moving in slow, deliberate strokes, gradually pressing deeper, pushing past the tight ring of muscle with a groan of satisfaction.

You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips, your body arching slightly as Mike's tongue worked deeper, exploring you from the inside out. His hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you steady as he pushed further, his tongue curling inside you in slow, rhythmic motions. You could feel the heat building inside you, the pressure growing as Mike took his time, thoroughly preparing you.

His tongue moved in and out of you with practiced ease and an almost lazy precision, his exhaustion only adding to the unhurried pace. He was tired, yes, but the need to please you kept him going.

His fingers gently massaged the soft flesh, squeezing and kneading as his tongue worked deeper inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his hands and mouth driving you closer and closer to your limit.

Finally, when he could feel your body trembling with anticipation, Mike pulled back, his lips swollen and wet, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His eyes met yours, and the look in them sent a shiver down your spine.

With a low, tired groan, Mike leaned back slightly, his hands moving to the buckle of his jeans. His fingers working slowly as he unfastened his belt, the leather sliding through the loops of his jeans with a soft, familiar sound. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest as he finally undid the button of his jeans, his fingers slow and deliberate.

The sound of his zipper sliding down filled the quiet room. His hands moved with laziness, pushing his jeans down just enough to free himself from the tight constraints.

His boxers followed, his hand tugging them down as he freed his aching length, already hard and heavy with need. You swallowed hard at the sight of him thick and swollen, the tip glistening slightly in the dim light of the room. Mike's hand wrapped around himself, giving a slow, lazy stroke as he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a moment, he just stayed there, kneeling between your thighs, his hand moving slowly over his cock as he watched you.

"You ready?" Mike asked, his voice rough and low, the exhaustion evident but laced with desire.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you spread your legs a little wider, offering yourself to him completely. Mike groaned softly at the sight, his hands moving to grip your hips again as he positioned himself at your entrance. He paused for a moment, just long enough to let you feel the weight of him, the heat of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

Slowly, almost agonizingly so, Mike began to push forward, his cock slipping past the tight ring of muscle with a low, guttural groan. The sensation was overwhelming. The way your body stretched to accommodate him, the way he filled you completely, inch by inch.

His movements slow and deliberate, wanting to make sure you felt every second of it. He could feel your body trembling beneath him, the way your breath hitched in your throat as he finally seated himself fully inside you.

"God, you feel so good," Mike murmured, his voice low and rough as he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His hands moved to your waist, holding you gently but firmly as he leaned down, his breath hot against your neck.

He began to move, slow and steady, his hips rocking against yours with a lazy rhythm. He slid in and out of you with ease, the heat of your body enveloping him completely. Mike grunted softly with each slow thrust, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he focused purely on the feeling of you around him. His warm breath comes in short, shallow bursts against your neck.

His hands stroked your waist, your hips, occasionally trailing down to your thighs as he continued to move inside you. The slow, lazy rhythm sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and you couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips with each thrust. Mike grunted softly in response, the sound of your voice driving him to push deeper, to take you harder.

His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your throat, biting down gently just enough to make you gasp.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his slow thrusts. The added sensation sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching beneath him as the pleasure built inside you. Mike groaned softly, his hand working you with the same lazy precision as his hips, his fingers stroking you in slow, deliberate movements that matched the rhythm of his thrusts.

Mike's breath was hot against your skin, his soft grunts filling the quiet room as he moved inside you, his body shuddering with each movement.

He was tired, his muscles aching from the slow, methodical pace he had set, but he didn't care. He wanted to make this last, to make sure you felt every bit of love and affection he had for you.

The slow, lazy rhythm started to shift the more the time passed. The pleasure building between the two of you became too much to ignore, and Mike's thrusts grew a little harder, a little faster, his hands gripping your hips more tightly as he buried himself deeper inside you. The soft grunts that escaped his lips became more frequent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he picked up the pace.

His hips snapped against yours with more force now, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust deeper, faster, chasing the pleasure that had been building between you.

Mike groaned loudly, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he thrust into you with more urgency. His fingers stroked you faster, more urgently, as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come on," Mike muttered, his voice strained as he thrust into you harder, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. "I want to feel you come for me."

He groaned loudly, his hips snapping against yours with more force as he finally reached his peak, filling you completely.

The sensation of him filling you, the heat and pressure of his release, pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat as the pleasure washed over you, your muscles clenching around him as you came hard, your release coating his fingers as he continued to stroke you through it.

Mike groaned loudly as he felt you tighten around him, his hips stilling as he buried himself deep inside you, his breath rugged and uneven as he rode out the waves of pleasure. His body shuddered with the intensity of it, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he stayed buried inside you, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing, the soft rustle of the sheets beneath you, and the faint hum of the world outside. Mike stayed still, his body pressed against yours, his cock still buried deep inside you as he caught his breath. His hands gently stroked your sides, his touch soft and affectionate now, as though he was grounding himself after the intensity of what had just happened.

Slowly, reluctantly, Mike pulled out, a low groan escaping his lips as he did. He collapsed beside you, his arm draping over your waist as he pulled you close, his body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of his release.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse, still laced with exhaustion.

You nodded, your breath still coming in shallow bursts as you turned to face him, your body warm and heavy with the afterglow. Mike smiled softly, his tired eyes half-lidded as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

The room was still warm with the heat of your shared intimacy, your bodies entangled beneath the sheets, bathed in the soft glow of the dimmed light from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with the scent of sweat. Both of you lay there, your breathing gradually slowing, coming down from the high, your bodies sinking into the comfort of the mattress.

Mike was next to you, his arm loosely draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling with heavy, tired breaths. His skin was still flushed, a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, and Mike's lips parted slightly, his breath hitching at the gentle touch. There was a kind of awe in his eyes, like he was still in disbelief that someone like you was here with him. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The way he looked at you said it all.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

He didn't respond with words, Instead, he leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. The kiss deepened, but it wasn't rushed. There was no urgency. It was all about savoring the moment.

You felt yourself sinking into him, your bodies molding together as the tension from before dissolved into a quiet, comfortable intimacy.

You felt the weight of exhaustion slowly pulling you under, your eyelids growing heavy as your body began to relax into the warmth of the bed. Mike seemed to feel it too, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as if to pull you closer. His hand gently stroked your skin, his thumb tracing lazy patterns across the marks he had left behind.

You were just about to drift off, your eyes fluttering shut as the drowsiness overtook you, when you suddenly felt Mike tense beside you. His body stiffened, his hand freezing mid-motion, and for a brief, disoriented moment, you weren't sure what was happening. You blinked, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, and turned to look at him, confused.

"Shit," Mike muttered, his voice low and strained, his eyes wide with sudden realization. "Abby."

It took a second for his words to register in your mind. Abby. The school. Mike was supposed to pick her up.

"Oh god," you groaned, the realization hitting you just as hard as it had hit Mike. "What time is it?"

His body jerked up from the bed as he searched for his clothes. He glanced at the screen, his face paling even more as he saw the time.

"She's going to kill me," Mike muttered, his voice laced with panic as he quickly pulled on his shirt, the fabric sticking slightly to his still-damp skin. "I'm so late."

You sat up, the sheets pooling around your waist, your own exhaustion forgotten in the sudden rush of urgency. Mike was already halfway dressed, his hands fumbling as he zipped up his pants, his expression a mix of frustration and panic. You couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of him.

"Hey," you called softly, catching his attention just as he was about to bolt out of the room. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, still completely naked, your body covered in the marks that Mike had left on you.

He froze, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your naked and marked up body. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with something you recognized all too well. For a brief moment, it seemed he was considering staying, the sight of you was almost enough to make him forget his panic.

"She's going to be pissed at you" you teased, standing up from the bed and walking over to him, your steps slow and deliberate. You reached out to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek as you leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

Mike blinked, momentarily stunned by the kiss, his lips still parted slightly as he stared at you. His eyes roamed over your body again, taking in the marks he had left on you, the way you stood there, so completely unashamed, so completely his.

"You look..." Mike's voice trailed off, and he shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're perfect."

"So perfect" Mike murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes still locked on yours. His hand reached out almost instinctively, his fingers brushing over the marks on your neck.

You leaned into his touch, your lips curving into a soft smile.

"Go," you said softly, your voice teasing but affectionate. With a resigned sigh, he gave in. He leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, slow and lingering, before pulling away.

"I'll be back," he promised, his voice low and filled with affection. "Don't go anywhere."

You smiled, giving him a playful push towards the door. "I'm not going anywhere, Mike. Now go."

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[swanimagines]

ooh how about a fic where morpheus and his wife have been married for a really really long time (think like 4000 years) and he like stands her up on their 4000 year anniversary or something like that because he's helping calliope. ALL THE ANGST AND FLUFF PLS TY

Summary: When Morpheus doesn't show up to the banquet you had planned together for your 4000th anniversary, you're concerned. But then you find out what he has been doing — or rather where he had been.

LOOSE ENDS

After four millenias of marriage, most would think that the love that was once there would have dimmed long ago — but that wasn’t the case between you and Morpheus.

It had been 4,000 years since Morpheus had told the stars to forge a ring that he’d place on your finger, 4,000 years since he vowed his pledge, his loyalty, his love to you in front of his Kingdom. 4,000 years since he made you his wife, the Queen of the Dreaming.

You had planned out your anniversary for some time now. You both being immortal didn’t really make yearly anniversaries meaningful, so you decided to spend it every century and the grander, bigger events, massive banquets, on every millenia to celebrate your love and how you thrived in the Dreaming.

Morpheus had left early in the morning, supposedly to take care of some urgent business, but you expected him to be back by the evening.

But he didn’t. It took days of him being gone, and you had no idea where he was. The whole week of your anniversary went by without a word from your husband.

So one day, you decided to risk it and went to the library to see Lucienne, who was working on her usual task with the ledger. She smiled upon seeing you, but her smile faltered as soon as she saw your expression.

“My lady, may I ask if there is something wrong?” she asked, and you sighed before nodding.

“I reckon you know where my husband is?”

The librarian lowered her quill on the table. “He did not inform me of his exact destination, my lady. Only that he had pressing matters in the Waking World.”

You laid your hand on her table before glancing around yourself. “He didn’t say when he’d return?”

Lucienne hesitated, and you could tell she was slightly uncomfortable. She was loyal to Dream above all else, but she was also loyal to you, his queen. But after a moment, she shook her head. “I am sorry, my lady. He gave no indication of how long he would be occupied.”

You sighed, rubbing your face, but then looked up to Lucienne again. “Thank you, Lucienne,” you murmured, withdrawing your hand from her desk. “If he sends word, please let me know immediately.”

She nodded, picking up her quill again. “Of course, my lady.”

—

Two days later, you finally felt his presence at the palace, and you hurried down the corridors, eager to see your husband, slightly concerned about what happened to him. He had already been imprisoned for a hundred years once, maybe it was something where he was trapped and had no way out. Surely he wouldn’t skip your anniversary by choice.

But then you heard two fairies talking around the corner, and you caught up a name.

Calliope.

“It must have been a relief to see Lord Morpheus,” the other fairy whispered. “He’s loyal to her after all this time.”

The other fairy sighed. “Well, she’s the mother of his child, of course he’s loyal. If she needs him, he will go.”

“Such a shame that it hit right on the Queen’s and his anniversary. Her Majesty worked so hard on that day, and then he just stood her up.”

You felt blood rushing up to your face as your heart started beating faster.

He had been with Calliope doing… you didn’t even want to know.

So in the next moment, you were storming towards the throne room, basically slamming the doors open to hear a surprised caw caw from Matthew, and he flew right past your face.

“Whoa, whoa, my lady! What’s the matter?”

You spinned around to face the crow after seeing the empty throne. “Where is he?” 

Matthew folded his wings and bowed his head. “I, uh, we haven’t–”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t lie, I know you know.”

“Oh, uh, he’s... well, uh... probably still in the Waking World, dealing with some loose ends from–"

“Calliope. I know he’s out there dancing around Calliope.”

"Oh boy. Look, it’s not my place to–"

“Matthew,” you warned, taking a step towards him, which sent him flying a little farther away.

"Okay, okay! Yes, he’s been helping Calliope. She’s, uh, been through a lot, you know? And he felt–”

You interrupted him again, your anger too strong to let the poor crow finish. “What can possibly be more important than our anniversary he absolutely must take care of for a week, without even reporting back?”

Matthew let out a squawk again. “Look, my lady, I get it, okay? You’re upset, and you’ve got every right to be. But Dream… he’s not great at juggling things, you know? He’s in the gallery. Please don’t tell him I told you.”

“The gallery?” you repeated, crossing your arms.

“Yes, the gallery,” Matthew repeated, glancing around him. “I swear, he’s been wrapped up in this Calliope thing, but… well, you’re his Queen. You should talk to him.”

So with a huff, you turned away and stormed down the stairs, towards the gallery. You heard Matthew mutter something, you guessed it was a prayer for Morpheus to survive from your fury, and frankly, you understood perfectly why it may be necessary.

Soon, you pushed the gallery doors open to find your husband standing in front one of the paintings, his head bowed down.

“Morpheus.”

His head lifted slightly before he turned to face you, and a small smile appeared on his face. “My love. I’ve missed you.” 

“Don’t ‘my love’ me,” you snapped, making his smile disappear. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you? A week, Morpheus. A whole week. On our 4,000th anniversary.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I understand that Calliope was in distress. I even understand you had to help her. What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t send a single word. Not to me, not to Lucienne. You could have sent Matthew. But you chose to be silent, I knew nothing. Do you have any idea how that felt, how I was scared for you?”

“You are not being fair,” Morpheus told you, and you scoffed, turning away from him.

“Not fair? And you were fair to me?”

He was quiet for a moment, and you saw his shadow nearing you, and knew he stood right behind you. “Calliope was imprisoned,” he said, his hands lowering themselves on your biceps. “For decades, she was held captive, forced to endure unspeakable cruelty. When I learned of it, I could not… I would not delay. It was not just a duty to her but an obligation to myself — to the part of me that still feels guilt for how our relationship ended. She deserved my help, my immediate intervention.”

You closed your eyes, but didn’t pull away. “If you sent a word, I would have understood. I would have been glad you chose to help her. I understand you share a bond forever with her because of… your son, even when he’s gone. But leaving me in the dark, I was terrified you’ve been captured again, and then I learned you were out there with your ex-wife.”

He was quiet again for a moment, before his hands slid down your arms. “You’re right. I should have sent a word. I should have thought about how you’d feel when you don’t know where I am on such an important date.”

You nodded, finally turning in his arms. “Swear to me you will never do anything like that again.”

He nodded. “I swear.”

You smirked. “Good. Because if you do, Morpheus, I might just take a vacation to the Waking World and see how you like being left in the dark.”

He chuckled. “I would not survive such a punishment,” he said, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “You are the Dreaming’s heart, and you are mine.”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly as his hands encircled you.

You pulled away from the kiss after a moment, but stayed close enough for your lips to still touch. “You’re going to make this up to me, Dream of the Endless. Our 4,000th anniversary only comes once, and you owe me a celebration worthy of it.”

“Then come,” he said, tugging on your hand. “Allow me to make amends properly. I have a few things in mind.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, and followed him upstairs. You might have a great late anniversary party after all.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[nahoney22]

Hey :) I Hope this isn’t too late but I have a fic proposal.

Clones should have a lot of scars and propbably some insecurities, considering that to most people they meet they are ‚just clones‘. I was thinking about a female reader worshipping either Hunter’s or Wolffes/Echoes (I love my grumpy men) body. I think it is a cute idea to make them feel appreciated and loved. It can be NSFW or SFW, whatever mood you’re in.

I also have seen the prompts „i'm not scared of anything except losing you“ and  „ I am truly and unconditionally in love with you“ . They don’t have to be included tho

Congrats on 4k followers! You deserve it so much Honey

Byee

4000 Prompt List Celebration

Wolffe X F!Reader

SFW

word count: 937 words

prompts:

“I’m not scared of anything except losing you.”

“I am truly and unconditionally in love with you.”

warnings: Angst and fluff, cuddling, talks of war and scars, light angst, female reader, established relationship, comfort, shirtless Wolffe, Spoilers for the latest episodes (6&7).

authors note: well seeing as we saw Wolffe so recently it’s only fair I pick this request. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy anon 🤍

You awaken to the subtle shift of your bed dipping, drawing you from the haze of dreams. A gentle breeze hints at an open balcony, likely your Commander's doing.

You shift, eyes flicking to the chrono on your bedside table that reads the early hours of the morning before rolling onto you right, facing him.

He’s silent, usual. Shirtless, also a common sight, yet his shoulders bear an unusual weight. "Darling," your voice rasps with sleep, "is everything alright?"

He remains silent, a restless energy vibrating through him as his knee bounces with an unspoken tension. As your hand finds its place on the center of his bare back, a calming touch, his movements still, tension melting away.

"I saw Rex today," he finally speaks, the words carrying a weight you hadn't anticipated.

Your eyes widen, and you sit up abruptly. "Rex? I thought he died in a crash!" The unexpected revelation catches you off guard.

When things took a turn for a worse, you were discarded by this new ‘Empire’ yet Wolffe remained. Your relationship was a secret of course and things had been hard for the both of you. You didn’t agree with these new terms and what Wolffe was doing yet he felt obliged to do his duty. To be a good soldier.

Yet, at nights like this where he would sneak into your home when he should be in his own barracks, you always felt the heavy burden of whatever it was weighing on him.

"So did I... but there he was," he sighs, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his cybernetic eye and scar. "A deserter, harboring a target the Empire seeks."

Your heartbeat quickens, anxiety gripping your thoughts. "You didn't harm him, did you?"

"No," he responds, a low rumble. "I let him go."

In a hushed tone, you respond, "Oh, well that’s a relief,” as you shift onto your knees directly behind him, offering a supportive presence.

Anticipating a bitter retort, you're surprised when he merely sighs, his head bowing as he falls into a contemplative silence.

Observing his stillness, your eyes trace a new wound on his back, joining the collection of scars. "How did this happen?" you inquire softly, your finger gently tracing the red mark destined to become another scar over time.

"Who knows? Falling from a cliff, getting shot by a civilian, crushed by rocks," he grumbles dismissively.

Moving closer, you delicately wrap your arms around his front, resting your cheek against his back. "Are you in pain?" you inquire, concern lacing your words.

He shakes his head, his hands finding yours to convey appreciation for the comfort. Though not one to seek coddling, the weight of the day has left him in need of solace. "No."

In a moment of necessary silence, a sudden wave of insecurity overtakes him. "Does it uh... look bad?" he hesitates, seeking reassurance.

"The wound?" you clarify.

He nods.

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Wolffe," you interject firmly, gently squeezing his hands, "you know I wouldn't lie to you. We've discussed this. I promise it doesn't look bad."

His jaw tightens, a brief struggle visible on his face, but then he relaxes, allowing your words to penetrate. The scar on his face, a constant reminder, had often made him feel exposed and unattractive. Yet, your consistent reassurances that you saw him differently provided a balm for his insecurities.

“Each scar tells a story, a battle won,” you whisper, kissing his new wound as well as the small scars that littered the rest of his back and what you could see, “a battle lost…” He closes his eyes, knowing what scar you were referring to but allows you to continue. “You’re handsome. Nothing will ever change that or how I love you.”

He bites on the inside of his cheek, his face warming up by the softness of your lips against his skin in the moonlight and your sweet words that had him hooked from the start.

"Are you scared?" you suddenly inquire, and he turns his head, prompting you to move back while still maintaining the embrace. "That they'll find out you let the target get away?"

"I'm not scared of anything," he asserts with stern resolve, but a softness overtakes his expression. "Except losing you."

You offer a soft smile, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. "Sweet, but I'm serious. Are you not concerned?"

His brow furrows, a hint of reluctance coloring his response. "I won't lie and say I'm not apprehensive. Kark, it wouldn't surprise me if they're already looking for me to reprimand. Or worse."

A twist of unease settles in your stomach, his words weighing heavily on your mind. Tears glisten in your eyes, and he realises his misstep. Without hesitation, he shifts to fully face you, reclining on the bed with his back against the headboard, pulling you close to his chest. "Let's not dwell on that. I'm sorry for waking you."

You roll your eyes at his attempt to deflect the gravity of the situation, but decide to take comfort in his presence for now.

As the soft sound of your snores fills the room, he finds solace in your embrace. He strokes your hair tenderly, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you succumb to sleep. "Beautiful girl," he murmurs, a sentiment he wouldn't express while you're awake, not one for overt displays of affection.

Before slipping away into the night, he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am truly and unconditionally in love with you."

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[fool-tarnished]

"Remember me" - Chapter 2 - Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader

Pairing : Kakashi Hatake x Female!Reader If you want to read Yamato's version, you can find it here.

Warnings : Memory loss

Inspiration : Remember me - d4vd

Words : ~ 4000

A/N : Hello there ! Here's the second chapter. It might not follow the same exact timeline and events as the books but i still hope you will enjoy it. And sorry for the mistakes, I'm not a native english speaker.

← Previous Chapter - Next chapter →

“He’s surprising, and he’s progressing astonishingly fast.” Before you stood what seemed to be a training ground, from where you could observe a figure dressed in orange at a distance. You couldn’t clearly make out the person in question, nor the two others standing alongside them. One seemed to be wearing a pinkish outfit, and the other a blue-and-white one.

Your vision wasn’t perfectly clear, but at least you could distinguish the colors and hear sounds. They appeared to be sparring, likely at the request of the man beside you, who held a book in his right hand.

“We’ll be heading out on a mission soon, [Y/N]. It shouldn’t take long—it’s just a C-rank mission.” His voice was so gentle, so calm, so reassuring. He was much taller than you, but his face was obscured by a mask, and what you could see most clearly was his silver-grey hair. Finally, he glanced up from his book and turned his gaze toward you.

“You’re awfully quiet today. Are you worried about him?” he asked at last, stepping a little closer and closing his book. “I promise he’ll come back safe and sound.”

Who was he talking about? Turning your attention back to the training ground, you noticed that the three ninja had vanished. A breeze began to rise, and the once-blue sky had turned grey. Where had they gone?

A cold hand suddenly rested on your shoulder, and with a start, you turned to face the silver-haired man. His hand was covered in blood, his forehead protector slightly askew, and his uniform had shifted from light green to a deep crimson across most of his chest.

“Where were you? Where were you when they attacked us?” This voice no longer sounded like the one you’d heard earlier, and now you could see other figures lying motionless on the ground behind him. Frozen in place, you briefly recognized the orange outfit you had seen before, just as the man before you spoke again.

“You promised to protect him. You promised me you’d come back.” Closing your eyes and clutching your head in your hands, you tried to scream, but no sound escaped your lips. It was as if something had rendered you mute, as if something was preventing you from doing anything but witnessing the scene unfold before you.

After a few seconds, you decided to open your eyes again. They were all gone. There was nothing left but a vast field, dimly illuminated by the moonlight. Panting, you turned slightly, searching for a sign of anyone—or anything.

Until a much deeper voice echoed around you. “There’s no hope left, and those you care for will die because of you.” A masked man dressed in a long black cloak appeared before you. Only one eye was visible, but it was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Consider the choice I’m about to offer you as a gift.” Silence fell, broken only by a soft chuckle escaping from under his mask.

“Will you take care of the Nine-Tails’ jinchūriki yourself? Or shall I do it for you?”

From this dark silhouette emerged a hand holding a kunai. As you took a hesitant step back, the man suddenly grabbed your face, forcing it toward the weapon, which he positioned just before your eyes.

“You’re going to have to choose—or I’ll choose for you.”

With a gasp, you opened your eyes abruptly and sat up in bed, struggling to calm your breathing. Holding your head in your hands, you didn’t even notice at first that you weren’t alone in the room. In truth, you didn’t even know where you were.

“You’re finally awake.”

Slowly turning your gaze toward the person who had just spoken, you let out a soft sigh.

“Where am I?” you asked, trying to shake off the vivid images lingering in your mind.

You’d been unconscious for several days, giving Tsunade enough time to examine your condition more closely. She hadn’t overlooked the blow to your head or the particularly high likelihood of memory loss that could result. Other findings in her analysis had also concerned her, but for now, it was time to assess how much of your memory had been affected.

“You’re in Konoha. You fainted when we found you.” She approached the chair to the right of your bed and sat down.

“You probably have a lot of questions, but first, I’d like you to tell me everything you remember. From the beginning. Then I’ll take the time to explain everything.”

Questions swirled in your mind, and you hesitated for a long moment before deciding to trust her and recount the events of the past few months in detail.

“I see. And everything before your time with that old woman is a blank to you?” she asked after hearing your story.

Nodding, you stared at your hands for a moment. “It feels like it’s the only thing I’ve ever known, and yet like my whole life has vanished.”

She made a sound of agreement, leaning back in her chair. “I imagine this won’t be easy for you. Neither relearning everything nor trusting us. But if you choose to trust us, we’ll help you regain your memory.” She paused briefly, observing your expression. “If you agree, I’ll ask a few… people from your past to help you with this. And I’ll leave you a notebook and pen in case anything comes back to you.”

Glancing at her, then at the notebook on the nightstand, you nodded. “And what about the treatment Yubaba was giving me?”

At this, you noticed her face tighten, as if masking some irritation. “I’ll provide you with a different treatment from now on. It will be more effective and help you see through this fog more clearly.”

“Hmm. And how is she?”

Tsunade rose, not meeting your eyes this time, and began walking toward the door. “She passed away a few days ago. There was nothing more we could do for her.”

And with those parting words, she left you alone in the room.

________________________________________

After a lengthy discussion with you, the Hokage had summoned former colleagues, primarily the sensei of Naruto’s friends, to inform them of the situation and stress the importance of keeping the information under wraps for the time being. She also took the opportunity to share her concerns regarding the results of your medical exams, suggesting that the issue might not be limited to simple memory loss. For this initial meeting, she had not summoned Kakashi. He was scheduled to meet her in a few hours, after she finished reviewing the latest mission requests.

The Copy Ninja arrived as requested, having spent most of his day with Naruto and Sakura. Between a few chapters of the newest volume of Icha Icha, he had thoroughly enjoyed his time reconnecting with his two students. He slipped away the moment Naruto mentioned the idea of him treating them to ramen and headed straight to the Hokage’s office.

“Lady Hokage?” he asked simply.

“Oh, Kakashi.” Tsunade lifted her head from her papers, setting her pen on the desk. “Everything went well with Naruto and Sakura?”

“They’ve improved tremendously. I have to admit—they’ve become quite strong.”

She offered a faint smile and stood, moving around her desk to lean against it as she faced him.

“I wanted to tell you something, Kakashi, before you hear it from someone else.”

The sensei regarded the Hokage without a word, waiting for her to continue.

“I sent a special ops team to search for [Y/N] a few months ago.”

The silver-haired ninja’s expression began to tighten, his mask doing little to conceal the tension in his face. His fists clenched in his pockets as dread crept in. He braced himself for the worst. Having already lost so many people he cared about, he found it hard to hope for a better outcome. But if something had happened to you… it would be one loss too many.

“She’s safe and sound. I’ve been taking care of her at the hospital…”

Tsunade noticed the visible relaxation in his features, and even the single eye visible through his mask seemed brighter. Though Kakashi didn’t express his emotions openly, she could tell he was both relieved and surprised. He likely hadn’t expected to hear such news.

“That’s… That’s excellent news.”

“But there are two issues. I wanted to speak with you directly about them before you decide to visit her.”

“Hmm?”

Kakashi’s thoughts raced. Relief washed over him at the confirmation of your safety and return to Konoha. Now, the only thing he wanted was for this conversation to end so he could see you. After living with only the memory of you for so long, every moment that delayed your reunion now felt like an unbearable torture.

“She suffered a severe head injury. She’s lost her memory.”

Kakashi’s gaze froze. He struggled to process the information.

“The second issue,” Tsunade continued, “is that she was essentially poisoned for several months. I was able to identify and neutralize the toxin during my tests, but… this was no ordinary concoction. It was designed not only to sustain her memory loss but also to cause severe headaches—and likely fainting spells. We need to remain vigilant. We don’t know the true intent behind this, or who orchestrated it. That’s why I urge caution, Kakashi.”

At these words, the Copy Ninja lowered his gaze to the floor. He needed a moment to process the flood of good and bad news. Your return filled him with joy, but your condition and the uncertainties surrounding it weighed heavily on him. Who had done this to you? Why? What were they planning?

“I know this is a lot to take in at once,” Tsunade said gently. “I’ll do my best to help her regain her memories. And… Naruto must not know about this for now.”

Kakashi remained silent for a few seconds before standing straight.

“When will you inform him that she’s back in Konoha?”

“If we can keep this under wraps until she regains some of her memories, that would be ideal. Naruto is too unpredictable, and I’m worried about how he might react to all of this.”

The silver-haired ninja nodded.

“Thank you, Lady Hokage.”

With those final words, he left the room, leaving Tsunade alone.

________________________________________

You were standing near a young boy with blond hair. He sat on a swing, looking despondent, his goggles pushed down to the lower part of his forehead. Incessant murmurs drifted toward the two of you, and the boy could no longer hide his sorrow.

“Don’t listen to what they’re saying,” you said, crouching down in front of him and attempting to give him the most reassuring smile you could muster. Seeing him like this seemed to tear you apart from the inside, and your eyes betrayed the depth of your emotions.

“Don’t forget what’s in here.” You pointed to the spot over his heart as you spoke, and he straightened slightly, meeting your gaze.

What was peculiar about this dream was that it was clearly you—your younger self—but at the same time, it wasn’t entirely you. You were observing the scene from afar. The young boy didn’t seem familiar, and yet, there was an undeniable closeness between you. As you continued watching your younger self trying to comfort the boy, silence settled over the moment.

“Wake up,” growled a voice, breaking through the quiet, as a hand suddenly pressed against your face.

Opening your eyes and sitting up in bed, you rubbed your face for a moment before letting out a sigh. Glancing around the room, you noticed it was bathed in an orange hue. The sun was setting, and it seemed you’d dozed off after Tsunade’s departure. Casting a brief glance at the window, you jumped in surprise upon seeing a man crouched there.

The Hokage must have left the window open when she left, but you certainly hadn’t expected anyone to perch there.

Frowning slightly, you took a moment to study the man before you. He had gray hair, a forehead protector covering one eye, and a mask obscuring most of his face. A book rested in his hand, but his gaze was fixed on you, silent and unwavering.

Despite your bewildered expression, he didn’t move an inch.

“What are you doing there? You know there’s a door to get in, right?”

At that, Kakashi gave you a slightly surprised look before letting out a soft chuckle, followed by a sigh. Deciding to enter the room properly, he closed the window behind him.

“Still as sharp-tongued as ever, I see,” he murmured, prompting you to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

Seeing your expression, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“You’ve been sleeping for quite a while.”

Leaning back slightly, you frowned deeply.

“Were you watching me sleep?!”

“I was reading, too,” he replied casually.

You froze, your expression a mix of fear and disbelief. It reminded him of the old days—those countless times he’d shown up unannounced on your training field or terrace to invite you along or to test out new techniques with him. Starting over from the beginning was going to be hard, and it hurt him deeply. Perhaps the hardest part was hiding his true emotions from you: the gnawing desire to hold you close, the way he yearned for your face, your smile, your scent, your [Y/HC] hair, and even your sharp sense of humor.

“You’re kind of scaring me,” you muttered.

“No—No. It’s just that I wanted to—Hmm, how do I put this?”

“You’re not helping your case here.”

“Uh… The Hokage must have explained what’s happening to you, right?”

“Ah.” You exhaled deeply and visibly relaxed. “You’re one of the people supposed to help me get my memory back, aren’t you?”

He hesitated for a moment, tucking his book into his pocket.

“You could say that.”

There was something familiar about him—he reminded you of the figure you’d seen in the dream when you first arrived.

“And you are?”

Though Kakashi remained outwardly stoic, your question had struck a chord. Pretending as though you didn’t know each other—acting as if everything you’d shared had never existed—was agonizing.

“Hmm, I’m Kakashi. We… worked together for a few years,” he said, a faint smile forming under his mask as you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Oh. I see.” You paused briefly, while the copy ninja silently waited. “I’m sorry. Everything before waking up at that old woman’s place is completely gone from my memory.”

Kakashi moved toward the chair beside your bed, sitting down with his hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees.

“Would you mind telling me what you do remember?” he asked, his tone calm and steady. “After that, I’ll answer whatever you’d like to know, if you’re okay with it.”

There was a kindness and gentleness to him, albeit with a strange demeanor. Yet, he didn’t exude any sense of danger, and his presence didn’t bother you. Nodding, you began recounting the past few months you had spent with the old woman.

Despite the length of your story, Kakashi showed no signs of boredom. He listened intently, committing to memory the details that stood out as peculiar—not to question you, but to analyze the “who” and “why” behind your condition. Certain inconsistencies nagged at him, prompting a mental note to discuss them with Tsunade later. On your end, you were entirely unaware that anything was amiss, much less that the more troubling parts of your tale warranted skepticism.

Hearing your voice brought Kakashi immense solace. After years haunted by your absence and silence, he cherished this moment, even if it wasn’t unfolding the way he had hoped.

“You haven’t had even a fragment of your past return? Not even a vague memory?” he asked after you finished, his voice tinged with faint hope.

You hesitated, recalling the strange dream you’d had—a dream with a figure who vaguely resembled him. But did you want to share it? Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea, especially considering the direction that dream had taken.

“No… unfortunately not,” you sighed, meeting his gaze. “You mentioned earlier that we worked together. Did we know each other for a long time?”

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. Was he nervous? You found it hard to tell. He was calm overall, but certain gestures hinted at underlying emotions. It was difficult for you to pinpoint exactly what, as you’d only been speaking for a short time.

“Quite a while, yes,” he said simply.

You blinked, expecting a more elaborate answer. After a few seconds, you spoke again.

“Just ‘quite a while’?”

“Hmm?”

“Uh… Were we friends, then? Or just coworkers?”

“Oh.”

Kakashi paused, placing a hand on his chin in thought. You had asked the question so directly that he wasn’t sure how to answer truthfully. The truth was, your relationship had always defied easy definition. It danced on the line between friendship and something more, a connection that could shift with a single gesture or moment. One day, you were distant; the next, inseparable. How could he explain that to you, let alone summarize it when he himself had never managed to define it?

“I think I’ll give you that answer later,” he finally said.

What did he mean by that? Was he unable to say whether you were friends? Or was it something else entirely? The thought made your cheeks flush furiously, a reaction Kakashi didn’t miss. His visible eye widened in mild panic, and he waved his hands in front of him.

“Wait—that’s not what I meant! It’s just… It’s not something I can explain with a single word.”

“So, not just coworkers.”

“Not just coworkers, no,” he confirmed.

A brief silence followed before Kakashi cleared his throat and shifted the conversation.

“There’s someone else I need to tell you about. He won’t be as delicate when he sees you again.”

Intrigued, you focused all your attention on him.

“Let me tell you about Naruto.”

And so, you spent hours talking about the young ninja who was Kakashi’s student, and who, according to him, was like a younger brother to you. Discussing Naruto came more easily to Kakashi than addressing your own relationship. He hoped that you might remember a little about the boy before they broached the thornier subject of your shared past—a topic that was both painful and rich with memories Kakashi silently prayed you would recover someday.

________________________________________

Kakashi returned home late that evening. Seeing you again had lifted part of the burden he had carried since your absence—a deep, relentless pain that had built up over the years, piling onto so many others. But this time, the outcome was different. You were alive, and that simple fact was enough to unsettle him. Yet the thought that you had forgotten everything, that you didn’t remember him or your shared history, left him feeling lost. How could he possibly start over from scratch?

Sitting on his bed, he let out a long sigh. Should he wait a little longer before telling you everything? Perhaps it was better to remain silent, to give you time to find your footing—or maybe never tell you at all. Part of him wondered if you might actually be safer without the memories of him, of what you had shared, and of what you had seen in him.

His mind swirled with endless possibilities, weighed down by uncertainty. His heart, however, whispered insistently that he had to reclaim what you once had, the bond you had built together. The emotions he tried so hard to contain threatened to spill over, urging him to hope, to dream of rebuilding what fate seemed determined to erase.

Running a hand through his silver hair, Kakashi finally lay down, staring at the ceiling with eyes clouded by fatigue and doubt.

“Maybe it’s better to wait a little longer…” he murmured to himself.

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, to quiet the storm of his thoughts.

“If only you could remember everything about your past… and about us.”

In the stillness of the night, his words lingered, carrying a fragile mix of resignation and hope.

[smutty-ki113r]

🛩Masky🛩||Toxic

NSFW||~ One shot x afab gn!reader, includes- vouyerism, pleasure dom masky, mirror play, teasing, edging, pilot masky, minors—dni (3.4k)

Inspired by: Britney Spears

(Fun fact I wrote this on the plane 😗)!

Working as a flight attendant was such a hassle, keeping you up at ungodly hours and having you deal with customers that complained about their seat. But it certainly had its perks, learning how to balance 4000 ft in the air and ending up in some incredible places, layovers in Hawaii, Dubai, Spain. Out of all these things you never would have imagined joining the mile high club…

You had an hour to get from terminal 1 to 3, your last flight was to Miami, so you were at MIA, looking around for a bathroom. Fixing up your hair quickly and adjusting your uniform before reaching the gate.

The other attendants were also waiting to the side, you were early. Of course you had to board the plane beforehand to check the seats and restock the drink cart.

There was only a few passengers waiting around too, you swayed against your luggage. Looking around to see the two pilots that would be driving the plane walking towards you, one of them you had flown with before, Brian Thomas.

The other one, particularly, caught your eye- probably because you had caught his first. Your heart skipped a beat and you gave him a friendly smile, then averted your gaze to avoid being awkward.

You had never seen him, he was probably new, laughing at something Brian said, but his sight was on you.

The corner of his lip was raised just slightly, he was practically undressing you with his eyes. You couldn’t even complain, he was hot as fuck, and he was flustering you. But his face remained innocent, nobody noticed but you.

He had this dark brown hair and defined features, he was classy, wearing his white uniform and a tie, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to how it fit him so perfectly. His build so defined- you stopped from staring at his pants.

If there’s one thing you loved it was a man in uniform.

Nobody had ever flirted with you on the job, and while no words were exchanged, you could feel his burning gaze.

You gulped and tried to look ahead, relieved when they called for all the attendants to board, it took the pressure off.

You took your post at the front of the plane and awaited for the passengers to board to then do the safety demonstrations and make sure everybody had their seatbelts on.

Soon enough zone 1 people started coming and you greeted them all, the door to the cockpit opened and you found yourself face to face with the pilot, glancing at his name embroidered in gold.

“Wright” you said softly, meeting his gorgeous eyes.

“yeah like the Wright brothers” he joked, looking you up and down and giving you a subtle smirk.

“That’s fitting” you told him. “Nice to meet you…”

“Tim” he finished, catching your name as well. “We’re about to take off, be a dear and get me some water will you?” He requested.

Nodding obediently and scurrying off to find him some water, he watched you go. Knocking on the door to the pit to alert them of your arrival and handing him the drink.

“Thank you gorgeous” he said, your face turning red at the compliment and instead moving to greet the other pilot, Brian nodded to you and you left.

Your thoughts remained on the beautiful man and you mindlessly did your rounds before the plane took off. Strapping in and listening to the men over the intercom.

“And we are ready for departure, flight 113 from MIA to JFK”

Smiling at yourself at the thought of your one day vacation in New York City. You wanted to go shopping and maybe visit the Statue of Liberty.

It was two hours into the grueling flight, your ears had already popped from the altitude, you never did get used to that.

You sat at the back, passing around the cart once and letting your other fellow flight attendants do the rounds for trash and such. You were all alone, looking out the window, your head in the clouds, and being almost startled as you saw the handsome man approach.

“I thought you were driving this thing” you whisper-hissed.

“Brian’s doing it, I’ve been at the wheel for almost three hours” he said, stressed. Flexing his arms out and stretching, leaning against a wall.

You couldn’t help but stare at his hands, his thick fingers, how you wished he could fill you up and make you pant out his name and-

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts and getting up, “you can have my seat if you want” he was probably exhausted.

“Sit back down” he said, his tone low. You did as he said; a tingle in between your legs at how commanding he was.

“I just came here to get a- snack” he said slowly, smiling as if he wasn’t looking at up and down you when he said that.

“I can make you something if you like” you offered, his tense posture relaxed.

“You’re a godsend, yeah, I’ll take a black coffee” you nodded attentively and got up to make his drink. Focusing on making sure it didn’t spill and stirring it for him.

Turning to him and handing him the drink, he took a sip and set it down on the counter. “Thank you beautiful”

You shook your head, it was nothing, “yeah of course” you laughed nervously, “whatever you need” you told him in a passing tone.

His gaze pierced through you, “whatever I need?” He said, his voice teasing, dripping with desire.

Right then you knew you had made a grave mistake, gulping and looking away. He approached you, his lips so close to your ear, tucking hair behind your ear and letting his fingers brush upon your neck.

God damn turbulence betrayed you, swaying the plane and making you lose your footing and slide right into him. His hand at your waist to keep you upright.

“Now that you mention it” he whispered in your ear. “There was something else…and I’m still hungry” his gentle touches were making you weak at the knees.

You glanced behind him but nobody was watching, you were afraid of what would happen if you were caught, he seemed to notice.

“I’ll be careful” he promised, his head an inch away from being buried in the crook of your neck, and he smelled so good, like this expensive manly cologne.

“We’ll be quick” his words so soothing and convincing you. There was already a feverish throbbing at your clit that you severely needed to attend to. A wave of desperate heat at your lower abdomen that you craved for him to satisfy.

You couldn’t resist this man, he had a mesmerizing effect on you. So you focused on his lustful gaze as he walked you back into one of the bathrooms, locking the door behind him and wasting no time in leaning down to kiss you.

Tim sealed the small space separating the two of you, a knee already in between your legs because of how compact the space was. You let out a few pants at the way he rubbed you, unable to stop yourself even though there might have been people just outside that door.

His kisses passionate and needy, like he had been craving you ever since the moment he laid eyes on you. And everything he did was intoxicating, you were so receptive to him, slick already gathering in your panties as he met your lips in an open kiss and bit down on your lip, nibbling and teasing you,

There was barely any space in that bathroom, moving around and escaping him would be difficult, it almost didn’t give you a choice, but Tim felt so good, you couldnt help but whisper his name in need.

“Oh fuck” he cursed, “your kisses are so delicious” he reached a hand down to your stomach, trailing it down your torso to your most intimate area, replacing his knee and pressuring your cunt gently through your skirt, “I wanna know if the rest of you tastes just as good”

Your breath hitched when he hoisted you on the small counter, your pussy embarrassingly wet at every one of his touches. He spread your knees open and bent down to get to work.

“So this is what you meant by hungry” you said in the middle of the heated moment.

His eyes met yours and you gulped at the mischievous glint swirling his pupils. Feeling a throb at the view of the captain on his knees. “Exactly” He chuckled lowly and pressed his lips to your thighs impatiently, sinking his teeth into your soft skin and leaving marks nobody would know about but him.

You whined, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from letting any lewd noises escape. “Oh god” you whispered, when he finally got to your pussy. It was too much tension, his hot breath lingering where his teeth marks lay, and now- right on your clit.

He hooked his fingers to your panties and brought them down, amused at the wet spot on them. Now there was nothing else below that short skirt. Your body involuntarily bucked forward, and his big hands held you in place. “Impatient are we?”

But he was just as rushed as you, it was supposed to be a quickie in the bathroom not lovemaking. If you wanted to do that later he would gladly lay you down in a proper bed and do so, but for now all he was focused on was your pussy glistening with your juices that he so desired.

Bringing his lips to you and lapping a stripe up your slit before opening you up and tasting you in full. Groaning at the sensation of your sex clenching around his tongue while he fucked you with it.

His fingers digging into your skin to bring you closer to his face and encourage you to ride as wildly as you pleased. You weren’t one to resist, your knuckles white as you held onto a handle on the wall and the roof above you. Praying that the passengers on the plane thought the rough movement was from turbulence and nothing more.

Tim ate like a starved man, in a way you had never felt before. There was no stopping him either, he wouldn’t cease his tongue fuck until he was satisfied, and nothing would please him more than you gushing over him enough to let him know you were ready for something much larger.

Besides, he couldn’t get his eyes off you, he was particularly enjoying making you squirm at the brink of your first release. He liked teasing you this much, it showed him that he held all the power, and you were wrapped around his finger. Technically you were, when he slipped one in and curled it in your soft spot.

His lips sucked at your bundle of nerves hard enough to make you spasm and clench your legs around his head, everything was going according to his plan. “Yeah? Does that feel good?” He asked, taking a breath and dipping another digit inside your dripping pussy.

You struggled to keep your voice bellow a whisper, but he didn’t seem to care about a possible audience. All he was focused on was pulling more of those pretty cries from your swollen lips. “Yes-yes” you repeated.

Your brows furrowing at the pleasure he was providing you with, and Tim himself was getting off at just the taste of you. His cock twitching in his uniform pants, he was painfully hard so he had to take himself out and stroke when you creamed on his tongue.

“You taste so sweet honey” he praised, “I love it when you struggle to speak because I’m making you cum with just my tongue” he smirked. The flat of his tongue once again swirling your swollen clit enough to make you let out a mutter of incoherent nonsense.

Too drunk off the bliss you couldn’t argue back, you didn’t want to. It was like you were in heaven, preforming acts that were so sinful they would have led you to hell.

“T-Tim” you gasped, “I’m close” you warned him, “gonna cum”

Once again he started eating you like you were his las meal on earth, your eyes rolled back in delight. But he wasn’t going to let you get off that easily, you should have known. “Not until you ask for permission”

He pulled his touch away slightly, enough to keep you just at the edge of your orgasm for a bit longer.

“Please” you cried, tears in your eyes. “Can I please cum, captain?”

The man saw the look on your face but just cooed, “you haven’t said my name” he reminded you.

“Captain wright” you babbled “captain wright”, again and again because once you spoke the magic words he just kept going faster. Pumping his thick fingers in and out of your sopping hole hard enough to make you come undone. Crying out for him and gripping onto the edge of the counter to restrain yourself.

“That’s right, just like that” he coaxed, helping you ride down from your climax so perfectly, You were thankful that he was there to hold you steady. Lapping at your release before standing up again and pressing his bare cock to your entrance.

“Gonna need you to beg for this one too” he said, to fuel his ego and also for consent reasons. His lips to your neck now. You had barely managed to come down from such ecstasy before registering what he was asking.

But you were far too gone, your cunt still clenching for him. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to satisfy him like he did you. Nodding and letting a few “please’s” to let him know you craved it too.

“Mhm that’s what I thought”, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, looking down to see if he had the package to back it up but your jaw hug open once you felt it. Prodding at you and letting his precum mix in with your slick.

“‘S not gonna fit” you said in a hiccup, eyes wide and narrowed at his heavy cock that pressed against your slit as you dripped on him. “It’s too big” you squeaked.

“Oh it’ll fit” he panted, mimicking the motions of sex but just grinding himself raw on you. “I’ll make it fit” he hissed. Finally rolling his hips into you in one swift movement. “Fuck” he cursed under his breath, it was quite a tight fit, enough to make him pause because he didn’t want to cum instantly.

A stray groan fell from your mouth but he caught it with his own, meeting you in a heated embrace. His hands on either side of you, pressing prints onto the mirror behind you. He pulled out and thrusted back in, working a good pace. You slowly acclimated to his thick girth with every stroke in your pussy.

Even with the stretch it felt so delicious, your hands clutching his once ironed uniform into wrinkled bunches. There was barely any space in that god forsaken bathroom, but it just gave him the excuse to stay closer to you. That and he just had to give smaller, quicker thrusts.

His big cock splitting you open time and time again, his tip reaching your cervix, thudding against your g spot in a way that made you squeeze him like a vice.

A hand keeping your knee open while he fucked you, practically pounding you. Making you lose your breath and your head go fuzzy. “You’re so tight” he hissed, “practically milking me”

He was panting, pulling out momentarily to turn you around and fuck you doggystyle. Except now, you could see your reflection and his own. The whole image of the captain pounding your pussy till it turned red on full display for you. A grin making its way to his lips, he liked seeing you struggle to fit him fully.

But the look on your face and the way you gripped around him told him that you wanted it, that and those obscene noises you were making every time he hilted. “Thats a good, pretty baby” he rasped, “servicing all your captains’ needs”

You looked at his eyes in the mirror, a pout on your lips from how he was acting. A hand making it’s way to your chin to redirect your gaze to your own body. “Watch yourself” he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.

“Look at yourself while you take all of me” he panted, and you felt yourself melt at the obscenity of his words. “I want you to see how good I’m fucking you”

Doing as he said and feeling his balls clap against your ass, it was almost more unholy to watch your expression and the way he made your body bounce back and forth on his cock.

“Do you see it?” He asked, “that fucked out look on your face from how deep my cock is right now”, a gentle touch at your lower abdomen to press where he was bulging. “Here, all the way inside that slutty little hole of yours” he teased.

It was all too lewd, you felt yourself sizzling with desire, about to burst again if he kept whispering those sweet words in your ear.

“You look so hot when I’m inside of you” he praised. “Mhm with me stretching you out, you’re so hungry for it” he growled. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes sir”, You were struggling to piece together your words, the ones you could were just ‘more- more more more”, so thats exactly what you said.

“Please” you cried “please sir, more”,

Your noises getting a bit too out of control, he had to discipline you. A hand moving to your lips to hold your mouth as he told you to be quiet, but that almost made it worse. Now the sound of the lewd squelch and clapping of balls was the only thing that could be heard along with your muffled groans and pants.

“Shh that’s right” he said, softly. “Just keep taking it, just let me take care of you” you nodded at the finger at your lips telling you to be silent. “stay and let me fuck that pretty pussy just a bit longer.”

You bit your tongue and did as he instructed, trying to hold on but the throbbing at your cunt was aching. “Please captain, let me cum” you whispered.

Meeting his eyes through the mirror and he seemed to relent, it’s not like he would hold on much longer either. You were squeezing him too tight, and he couldn’t pull out too much, there wasn’t any space in that damn little cabin.

His hand gripped the rails to steady himself, the other at your ass to take a handful of. “You’ve been good, go ahead, you can cum” he whispered in your ear.

It felt like such a relief, shivers going down your spine and directly to your pussy. “I’m cumming-“ you warned, fluttering around him as you found your release.

“That’s a good baby just let yourself go” he said in a raspy tone, his fingers digging so deep into your ass there would definitely be marks. “Let your captain take care of you”

Your legs were weak, trembling as he hilted and spilled deep inside of your hole, groaning into your shoulder as he filled you up.

His cock twitching as you squeezed him until his balls were empty. Eventually he pulled out, his release dripping out from your hole and down your legs.

His big hands helped you pull up your panties once again, it wasn’t much help concealing the act, your hair was all disheveled and your cheeks rosy.

His release still inside of you a lewd reminder of what had just transpired on the planes bathroom.

“You did so good for me” he praised, making sure you were good before sending you off.

He put your skirt in place, “welcome to the mile high club” he whispered with a chuckle, “have a safe flight now”

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.

When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.

"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest. 

"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled. 

"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.

"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."

"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.

"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."

You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."

"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."

"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"

"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."

"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid. 

You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him. 

"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."

He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.

"I love you too, Daddy."

You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better. 

"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut. 

-----------------------------

"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"

"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"

But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!" 

Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.

"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."

He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home. 

As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."

You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.

Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body. 

As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."

He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.

When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."

He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands. 

"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him. 

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."

You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."

Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."

"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"

"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.

His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."

"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips. 

"I want you with me for the rest of my life."

"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.

"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."

After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.

"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."

"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."

You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."

His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look. 

"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.

"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser. 

He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later. 

"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."

--------------------------

On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go. 

"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."

"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."

You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."

One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."

"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."

"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."

"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner. 

Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."

As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"

He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."

Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.

On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.

"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."

You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.

"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."

You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"

"I'd be happy to."

But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."

You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"

He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."

You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him. 

As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.

"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.

"On the dresser, Bradley."

"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."

-------------------------

Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun. 

"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms. 

Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him. 

"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all. 

You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.

"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."

Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs. 

Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."

Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."

Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."

Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?" 

Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.

--------------------------

Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 46

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