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atebyflowers · 3 days ago

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︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎if i wasn't so american ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎| ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎part one

[ ︎this is the intro to a series of truck driver ellie x serial killer femme fics . . . . Full credit to this tweet for the idea. photos are solely for aesthetic purposes not meant to mimic readers intended race or body. ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ butch ellie x femme reader, misogyny mentions, murder obviously, assault/sa; not in depth, but mentioned. smut (r!recieving). long reader storyline. not native in english, semi edited, but ignore grammar/punctuation mistakes. title of the fic is from this song . word count : 6.2k ]

︎ March 1st, 2000

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You remember the first time you actually went through with a kill like it was yesterday. He was dirty, borderline revolting when you first met him. Ending up at a truck stop after a day of hitchhiking your way through town, you couldn't help but notice him. I mean, how could you not with how obnoxious he was. Standing outside his truck loudly cat calling nearly every girl he laid his eyes on, it was impossible for you to miss him.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎You had a lingering hatred for the type of men that spoke to women as anything other than respectable, it burned a different type of hatred into your heart. You couldn't reason with them. Nothing in your mind allowed you to sympathize with such creatures. And now, as you walk into the truck stop for a drink, peeking through the clear windows as the occasional woman walks up and does everything in their power to avoid the pig practically loitering outside — your resolution is final. If the lord won't take these men out of this world to benefit women, it must mean he's waiting for you to take matters into your own hands. And boy were you anticipating the day you came across such an easy target like this one.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ "Hey misterrr" you dragged out as you leaned up against the truck beside his, drink in hand and a lightly packed bag hanging off your shoulder; containing nothing but a few outfits, a camera, a kitchen knife, spare change and a gun you swiped from your fathers closet back home. "well hey there sweet thing" he replied, looking you up and down, his eyes making sure to stare down just a bit longer than up — dirty pervert you thought. "so what brings you over here? called out to ya earlier but you walked right past me". he questioned, somewhat slurred as he placed a cigarette in his mouth. "oh nothin.. must've not heard you the first time. just wanted to see where you might be headed" you answered, putting on your best fake smile before takint a sip of your drink. "now why's that huh? y'lookin for a ride huh?" he responded letting out a puff of smoke. "maybeee .. or maybe i'm lookin to come visit you sometime". Your words were as convincing as they could be in this situation. It also helped that he was a desperate loser who'd believe anything if said by a sweet young woman. "oh really?" he chuckled. "really" you responded, widening your eyes and leaning up off the truck. "soo... why don't you write down your name and where ur heading so i'll remember who to ask for when i come knocking" you reached into your bag as you spoke, pulling out a nearly empty pen and an old notebook before handing it to him. Immediately he complied, thinking he got lucky he didn't hesitate to give you his location, even throwing in a time recommendation for you. Handing you back the notebook, you smiled at the words in rusty hand writing. Randy was his name. such a shame poor old randy had no clue what was coming his way you thought to yourself once again as you placed the notebook back in your bag, barely zipping it up before he attempted to pull you closer to him. "so tell me.. what youlookin to do then baby?" his words almost faded into a whisper as he leaned down to smell your hair, his body odor slapping you in the face before you pulled away subtly and started to walk backwards. "don't you worry about that now.. i like to suprise my dates" you replied before turning around fully to walk off — cringing at your own words as you made your way towards the sidewalk.

︎ ︎ As you made your way down the street — you came to a stop once the sidewalk started to fade into gravel. you threw your bag down at your feet and stretched out your arm. hitchhiking was nothing new to you, you had been on the road for months catching rides from strangers and debating with the voices in your head. You had a few other victims in mind before randy. Some you met at other stops, some that picked you up on the way. But there was always something in the way: too many people around, a wife and kids waiting for them at home, your conscious telling you it was wrong. for a while now, it took long sleepless nights of thinking, for you to actually develop the overwhelming urge to kill without remorse. There was nothing left for you back at home, and you had spent your entire life surrounded by males who did nothing but make being a woman seem like living hell. What good did men like Randy bring to the world? and what loss would it be without them? could taking your anger out on them really be that bad? you knew the answer to that. it was obvious. there was no space in this world for such things, and you were desperate to make sure no other woman would suffer at the hands of them. it wasn't an impulse, it was a buildup that took months of debating before you came to terms with what you needed to do.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ It didn't take long for someone to stop at the sign of your hand waving at on coming cars. a nice couple this time; perhaps in their 30s it seemed. luckily for you they were headed in the perfect direction, not asking too many questions about why you're headed so far up alone — the drive going by slowly in result. but you were grateful, it gave you more than enough time to draw out a plan in your head. After about an hour and a half they dropped you off at a diner not too far from where you were supposed to meet Randy — some rundown trailer park you could barely pin point on the map. Lord did he make it too easy. You didn’t go there right away. Instead, you sat in the booth of the diner for a while, until sundown to be exact. there was nothing on your mind besides carrying out what you had in mind. Randy would be the first hit to a long list of others.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ When the sun set and customers started to clear out, you began your trip to the promised meeting location. The walk to his trailer felt short. The directions were easy and there really weren't many people around. The park was quiet, it was hard to tell which trucks were abandoned and which had others living in them. Randy's trailer was the last one in the row, almost perfectly hidden behind all the others. You didnt take long to approach, the feeling of actually being close to someone you had planned to kill made your adrenaline rush in ways it hasn't before, there was nothing holding you back. Randy opened the door the second he heard your first knock, shirtless, he held a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in one hand. "Well i’ll be damned. ya actually showed up huh” he slurred with a grin, stepping aside and waving you in. you smiled sweetly and walked inside without wasting time on verbal exchange. Immediately upon entry, you were hit with the smell of sweat, cigarettes and alcohol. Your eyes gazed around the room, spotting porn magazines on the table and a lonesome cat in the corner.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ “You drinkin’ anything?” he asked, walking toward the counter, not bothering to ask what you liked — just pouring some of his half drank bottle into a terribly washed cup for you when you agreed to having a drink. you didn't actually drink it of course, it barely touched your lips as you thanked him and pretended to take a sip. “Didn’t expect someone like you to actually show,” he broke the silence, settling onto the couch, “But I ain’t complainin’ you're a sweet one" he added, a nasty smirk on his face as he continued to drink directly from the bottle. You didn't sit nor did he offer you a seat, you just stood there, leaned against the wall, fiddling with the dirty undranken glass before responding. "well.. i always try to keep my promises" you said. "mm well i sure am glad. you not like them other bitches huh darlin'?" he replied slowly, fixing himself off the couch to come over to you. The word he uses sent a rush of anger through your veins. He touched you on your arm, then slid his hand down to rub your ass. though uncomfortable, you kept your composure and let him, not wanting to fuck this up. "Randy.." you spoke just above a whisper — he didn't pull away, only responding with a grunt. "Randy.. i have a question" you continued, this time he only pulled back a little, keeping a firm grip on your waist. "hm? what is it.... ah u wanna get more comfortable that's it honey?" he questioned with the same smirk on his face as earlier. you chuckled in response, turning to reach into your bag slowly as you responded. "no... not necessarily i- just wanted to give you something i got on the road". you unzipped the bag, "oh yes? well lemme see my gift then sweetheart" he replied — and you pulled it out. a small hand gun, loaded of course, immediately causing him to step back and put his hands up. His face twisted into something between shock and amusement. “woah there now, what's this about" he asked, and for the first time since meeting him your words wouldn't come out — there was nothing in your mind besides the sound of your own heart rushing. it was beating throughout your ears, you couldn't respond, you just stood there for a moment, gun in hand and pointed directly at him.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ "I dunno what you think you're doin but liste-" you raised the gun towards his left side, and Randy's words were cut off with a single shot. You didn’t give him time to beg or even understand the gravity of your actions, your desire to kill was entirely too high for you to let him try and talk you out of it, or attempt to gain some sympathy out of you. You stood over him after it was done, he hit the floor harder than ever and you watched as he bled out — the cat that had been seated in the corner, scrambled to his side meowing. that was probably the only part you felt bad about, the poor and neglected cat. Once you made sure he was fully gone, kicking at his side to try and wake him, kneeling down to check his pulse — you didn't bother to clean up. It was useless when his body would most likely be there for days you thought. reaching over your shoulder and placing the gun back in your bag, you reached in at the same time and pulled out your camera — snapping a quick picture of the lifeless man before standing up. before leaving randy's trailer: you swiped his pockets and quickly rummaged through his belongings to find any leftover cash or cigarettes. once you gathered what could fit into your bag, you were headed out — but just as you were about to close the door behind you, you turned around, walking back towards Randy's body and picking up the cat that had now laid down next to him. you were a murderer yes, but the thrill of just having killed someone didn't erase your morals, you couldn't let that cat starve to death alone in there just cause you hated its owner. It was an innocent thing. and so once in hand, you left Randy there alone, the trailer park still as quiet and empty as it had been when you came — nobody around to have possibly seen you, and nobody home in their trailers who seemed to care about the loud bang that rang out earlier. lord, was it ever so easy. ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ Randy was obviously the first. You were inexperienced and had never killed before him. But once it was done, you felt nothing but satisfaction with yourself. You physically couldn't feel bad for what you had done no matter how hard you tried. After that night, you had settled down at a hotel just a town over from where you committed the act. The only thing that halted your travels for about four weeks was the brief worry that if you act again too soon you may get caught. But there was no remorse about the actual actions at hand, and that's why immediately after a month was up, and your worrying feeling went away, you were ecstatic to get back to work. You couldn't say Randy was the last; of course he wasn't. If anything, Randy opened the door to many other men like him falling victim to your sweet manipulation. you learned from him, he showed you just how easy it is to talk to the ones like him, and how much easier it was to get valuable information out of them by offering.. Well, nothing specifically. you never actually offered sex or anything to these men. But just the hopes of a girl showing up and giving them something was more than enough for them to compromise their safety unknowingly — and you thanked the gods above for making it this simple. Over the course of five months, you had killed ten other men like Randy over the course of five months — the entitled ones who thought women owed them something, the dirty ones who spoke boldly to women with no interest in them, and especially the ones with no one waiting at home for them. It wasn't as hard to cover up your true intentions when speaking to others, nor was it ever hard to find a ride towards your next victim. People were too trusting of sweet looking young girls like yourself, but you were ever so grateful for it. only ever made your job easier.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

September 12th, 2000

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You've been sitting on the curb outside a laundromat stop in Arizona for about an hour and 30 now. it's 7:30pm on a Sunday, you're waiting for your clothes to dry after washing them. It's been 2 months since your last kill, and seven months since randy. It was fall now and the weather was getting colder, which only meant even less people roaming the streets. Even less chances of possible witnesses. Despite that, your overwhelming urge to kill quickly had worn off. with only one slip up over the last few months — an accidental run in with a local cop after a kill, who, lucky for you, 100% believed your excuse of it being “that time of the month” when he asked about the small dried blood stain on your clothing. You didn't really find it necessary to kill so fast. With no one on your ass, you could take your time and enjoy experiencing each state while killing a disturbing man you came across occasionally here and there.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ Your mind started to drift off before you heard boots scrapping across the bumpy pavement, swiftly catching your attention. That was the first time you saw her. She caught your attention from the get go, her auburn hair caught by the golden evening sunlight — she wore brown jeans and an old looking cardigan with a white shirt underneath. You stared at her as she stood outside the door holding a bar of clothes, digging in her jean pocket for some cash before stepping inside, you, slowly following behind. There weren't many women you came across during your killing spree. None that weren't being harassed by your next victim at least. and definitely none that looked like her. You tried to be subtle about the fact you were watching her, taking your clothes out of the dryer and placing them back into the washer as she did with hers. You didn't notice that she noticed, but neither of you said a word to each other. You were the only ones in the laundromat besides the older lady behind the counter closely focused on the tv hanging along the wall next to her. It was quiet, and beyond awkward as you both sat on opposite sides of the room waiting for the washers to go off, then switching to a dryer. You didn't tend to put a hit out on someone you were seeking a ride from, you always let fate put someone in your hands and trusted that they'd get you to where you needed without harm (the fact you had a gun and a knife, and weren't afraid to use either also helped). But there was something different about the way she carried herself that made you desperate to ask her, or at least find out where she was going. Maybe it was the fact you were touch strived, or maybe it was the fact you had been surrounded by men for months on end and wanted to have a conversation with a woman who wasn't in need of your help. Whatever it was, you always knew to follow through with your gut.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ Her clothes dried faster than yours. you watched again as she unloaded the dryer and put her clothes back into the bag she had brought them in, before walking out. Once she was out of the door, you rushed to be sure you don't miss her — unloading your own, still damp clothing. You waited until she was fully in her truck, keeping a slight distance as she pulled out of the parking lot. Following a few feet behind, the cool air hit your face as you stood at the end of the lot, watching her truck in the distance stop, not too far from where you stood, before it pulled into a local diner. You wasted no time making your way down the street towards the same building, determined to catch and speak to her this time.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside, a whiff of black coffee hitting your nose immediately upon entry. you noticed her the second you sat down — she was sitting alone, at a table not too far from where you were, a coffee already in her hand. there was a chance she noticed when you walked in, maybe her eyes turned to the door the second she heard the bell like everyone else did. or maybe she didn't care, either way, she didn't look up from the newspaper she had laid on her table. you didn't bother to order anything, unsure of how long she'd be there, you couldn't take the risk of being too indulged in your food and miss her. About 30 minutes passed before she stood up and tucked in her chair. She left a tip on the table and just as she was about to get away, you acted fast. "hey” you called out to her, a bit louder than you meant to which made you cringe, but it did the job — grabbing her attention. she paused with her hand on the truck door, her foot about to climb up before she stepped back down and turned slightly towards you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you just — um… are you heading out of town? i could use a ride if you got room" you asked looking over towards her open truck door, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. She stared back at you for a minute before she spoke, her emotion was hard to read which irritated something in you — after months of reading men like a book, she was the first person whose words you couldn't make out in your head before they were actually spoken. “What makes you think I’m going far?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. You bit the inside of your cheek and sighed to yourself before answering; “ah i dunno... just figured i'd ask instead of wasting time tryna flag someone down". She looked you over again as you spoke, but it wasn't the way a man would, it was almost like an evaluation. "ya got anyone waiting on you?" she questioned, a question that confused you but you answered anyways — "no one" you said shaking your head. your response seemed to satisfy her as she nodded her head towards the passenger side. "c'mon then". it wasn't thorough, but it was enough to get you going. you wasted no time following her words, hopping inside after her and closing the door behind you. The inside of the truck smelled like pine and something metallic, old blood maybe, or just rust. The seemingly old seats squeaked under your weight as you adjusted yourself and fastened your seatbelt — taking your bag off and placing it on your lap.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You were both quiet when she pulled out of the diner, and you remained quiet for lord knows how long into the drive. If you were being honest with yourself, what could you possibly say? this was the first time youd been in contact with a girl ... like her, in nearly forever. it was also the first time you ever felt something besides the thrill you got from killing. you weren't sure what the feeling was, but it was something different. she was the first to break the silence, looking at you fidgeting with your bag before she sighed and imitated a conversation. "so, what's your name?" You looked over at her, her eyes completely focused on the road now. you graced over her, noticing the way her slightly veiny hands gripped the steering wheel. "do i have to tell you" you responded, and she shrugged, "You don’t, but i did let you into my truck without running a background check. would at least be nice to know what to call ya" she responded and you hesitated. she did have a point you thought — and therefore you complied — speaking your name just above a whisper, slightly hoping she wouldn't catch it, but of course, she did. "alright then y/n. i'm Ellie.” She reached over and turned the volume up on the radio just a little after speaking, an old country song you couldn't recognize the name of hitting your ears. "Nice to meet you Ellie.. and thanks ... you know for the ride and all" you replied and she hummed in response. "how far y'lookin 'to go?" Ellie asked, her fingers tapping the steering wheel along to the along just slightly, though enough for you to notice. "not sure really. guess as far as you're willing to put up with me for". you really didn't know where you were going without a target out on the next victim. It was a weird feeling to be chasing practically nothing for once, and without fully understanding why you decided to chase it. But it was too late to back out, and there was nothing in your mind telling you to do so. How it would go from here was unknown, for once, things weren't completely in your control, there was no secret mind game to play — just fate and whatever slip of hope you had left from home.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You drove mostly in silence for about another hour or two after that. The same few songs played over and over again on the radio, Ellie changing the station every once in a while, though there wasn't much change in the music itself. You stared out the window for the majority of the silence. There wasn't much on your mind to debrief about — the situation at hand didn't have much gravity to it and overall you've already gone over every possible thought about the last seven months of your life. so, you waited until Ellie eventually spoke again once she got to a red light. "Do you always hitchhike with strangers?" she asked, her voice lower than it had been before. you glared at her — trying to read whether it was a joke or an actual question, quickly giving up when you realized you still couldn't read past her. "Guess so" you answered somewhat emotionless, not wanting to give up too much detail, and she hummed again. You drove for another hour or so, before Ellie pulled into a small roadside motel, the neon sign flickering like it was struggling to stay alive. There were two other cars in the parking lot but nothing else that really caught your eye. “Alright" she spoke, pausing to shut off the radio and turn the car off before speaking again. "can either come in with me or catch another ride, m'not driving throughout the night" she said. You nodded at her and she turned to get out of the truck, you — taking an extra moment before getting out. It was already nearing 1am, so you couldn't blame Ellie for stopping. but the idea of staying alone with a stranger overnight, somehow didn't bother you as much as it should've. more so, having no prey at this moment didn't bother you either. Rather, the idea that she could possibly be the dangerous one didn't cross your mind, you only felt relief. relief that you have some sense of normalcy for a moment — as normal as being a runaway turned serial killer could possibly be. Staying at different places for months alone had its ups and downs, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss having some sort of contact with another human being — one that wasn't on your hit list at least. and therefore, you followed behind her.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ The room she paid for was surprisingly clean despite the outside look of the motel itself. the curtains were stained a bit yellow and there was dust amongst the tables, but besides that nothing seemed particularly bad. The only major flaw that caught your eye — being the singular bed. the lady working at the front desk, insisting they didn't carry doubles. Ellie tossed her bag onto the chair and unzipped it slowly, pulled out a pack of gum and offered you a piece. You shook your head and sat on the edge of the bed. Your demeanour was more awkward than usual, it was slightly funny to you — the way you caught yourself being filled with such a confusing feeling after spending so long having others that way. Ellie leaned against the lone tv stand across from the bed, studying you for a moment before speech. “you ever gonna tell me why you were following me back there?” she asked. So she did notice you thought to yourself. Your natural reaction was to shrug. “I just had a feeling about you I suppose... i dunno". “feeling,” she repeated with an almost mocking scoff, “ya always go with your feelings hm?" she asked on, this time you were willing to give in slightly with more detail. Whether it was the lack of sleep or the fact you finally got a good look at her now that she was standing directly in front of you — whatever it was, made you feel a sort of desperation to be heard that you never felt before. She was still a stranger, you reminded yourself in your head. But there was something drawing you towards her that was almost magnetic. "most the time, they tend to be right" you replied. “can't say they've ever led me to... this though" you add. “this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her tone only got lower as the night went on it seemed. “this" you said again standing up, without really meaning to. it was unusual, like your body had a mind of its own and moved with the pace of your words. there was a rushing feeling in your blood, but for once, it wasn't the type of rush you got from murdering. This one was unfamiliar — but not the slightest bit less thrilling. You were close to her now — you didn't mean to move like that, but she didn’t back away at your movement, and you didn't think to stop yourself. For a moment, you were both still, so still it almost hurt. Then slowly, her hand came up and hovered near your jaw, not quite touching, but close enough to make you flinch at first — Ellie only letting out a soft chuckle at the sight. “you're real strange y'know" she muttered low. You tilted your head slightly which caused her lingering fingers to brush against your skin. with a small smirk you responded "yeah?", ellie nodding. "well so are you" you added, lookin down at the short distance between yours and her feet. You hadn't realized just how close the two of you got, until her hand was on your face. She reached down towards your chin, tilting your head up for your eyes to meet hers, her hand now sliding toward your jaw again. It caught you off guard, but you didn't pull back or ask her to stop as she pulled you in for a kiss. It wasn't soft or slow. It was sudden and rough, like both of you were touch strived and waiting for this exact moment to slap you in the face. her mouth tasted like gum and old coffee, but you were so in tune with her — it didn't matter, all you could do was kiss her back. So desperate, it was like you’d die if you didn’t. When you broke apart, she stared at you for a short moment, as if she was actually looking for a sign of discomfort from you. one, that of course couldn't be found — as you were more than comfortable enough now, to pull her back in for another one.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ellie's hand dragged down your thigh, the two of you slowly moving towards the bed — your mouths still attached with every movement. she pushed you down onto the shockingly soft mattress, her lips moving from yours and making their way to your jaw, then your neck. you let out a shaky breath in response to her take over, which caused her to lift up from your skin. she leaned down to place another softer kiss on your lips this time, before cupping your face and speaking — her touch, more gentle than you could've ever expected. it was like her skin melted perfectly into yours, spiking a feeling you longed for. "tell me if you want to stop" she spoke above a whisper, words you wouldnt have guessed, though they only made you ache for her even more. "please.... keep going" you spoke through heavy breathes, Ellie smiling just a bit at how worked up you had already become. her lips attached back to your skin, making their way across your body as her hands were rubbing up and down your thigh for a moment — before she began to toy with the fabric underneath your skirt. She didn't question you this time, your body naturally grinding up against her hand being enough of an invite as she pushed aside the fabric. "fuck" you gasped as her fingers came in contact with your cunt. she teased you for a minute, brushing a finger up and down your slit as you desperately chased some form of friction — ellie letting out a scoff in response to the image. "ya really need this huh?" she spoke, your eyes locking onto hers while she practically taunted you. "mm y-yes-" you were cut off by your own moans as she pushed apart your folds, rubbing circles on your drenched clit. "god... already so wet f'me honey" she spoke, ans you let out another whine in response. "s'all okay.. i'll take good care of you” Ellie informed, her fingers now making their way to your entrance as she lowered herself down towards your legs. her movement was gentle, enough for you to fully take in every finger she carefully pushed into you. she started off slow, pulling in and out of you and paying close attention to your expression — how pathetic you looked trying to stay quiet while she fingered you. It was hard at first, but even harder once she started eating you out. her tongue, like a magnet to your clit. she sucked on you like it was her first and last meal — like she had to savour every moment of it. "e-ellie .. god it's too much please" you whined, unsure of what you were begging for — all Ellie could focus on was how good you tasted, how good you sounded for her, completely under her strength. "you taste amazing" she mumbled, her fingers speeding up their pace as her mouth stayed attached to your cunt. "prettiest pussy I've ever had" she added, and you let out a louder moan in response, quickly shutting yourself up when you caught it. but she wasn't having it, "don't ... don do that ... wanna hear you" she ordered, and you obeyed.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ you moans rang throughout the walls as ellie took her time with you. eating you out with her fingers buried inside of you — it was an overwhelming sensation you never wanted to end. "el.." you couldn't make out her full name through your moans, you were more than close — on edge, but she didn't stop. "i know .. c'mon baby i wanna taste you.. let go f'me" she assured you, not that you could really hold back with the way she was fucking you. "mm it's soso good please don't stop ... i'm gonna-" you let out a mix of moans and soft whines in response to her words. and as your orgasm came over you — you caught yourself inside of your head once again. thoughts were finally becoming coherent. but they were nothing close to negative, nothing close to what you had ever thought before. you were having sex with a complete stranger. you were giving into sex with a complete stranger, and it didn't feel bad. she didn't feel bad. there was no sense of guilt or worry. you we're completely indulged in her, just as she was you.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You dozed off not too long after she was done with you. Ellie, who was ever so gentle with you once you came down from your high, treating you like a vase that could crack any moment — cleaned you up with care, offering to run you a bath and repeatedly apologizing for bruises that started to form on your inner thighs. Your body was sore in a way you hadn’t felt in years. but it wasn't from running this time, it wasn't from fighting or violence — only from the touch of another. the touch you allowed to be there. It was almost unsettling how good it felt. The motel room was quiet when you turned over again. The sheets were barely draped across your hip as you drifted in and out of sleep — your eyes struggling to open fully, though coming apart just enough for you to notice the space in bed beside you, empty with ellie's indent left in it. Your breath hitched, but you didn't move. your eyes and ears came into focus slowly, but once they did — you heard it. the soft shuffle of movement at the foot of the bed. A faint rustle. You turned your head only a bit, not enough to make a noise — and that's when you saw her crouched low, her back to you. Ellie’s hands were deep in the front pocket of your bag, the sight of it making you feel as if your heart had slammed against your ribs. you were frozen solid as you watched her quickly move throughout your belongings — your breath getting stuck in your throat when she slowed down. That's when you watched her closely. ellie stood up — the edge of a photograph clutched between her fingers before she placed it on the table and leaned back down, pulling out another. then another. then another. "fuck" you whispered to yourself, closing your eyes before she could notice you awake.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

this is my first fic since january ... i promise it will get better with part two. tag list ; @dykeadvocate @abigaillovestoread @mabermaple @imdrowningindispair @dyk3ang3l @ellieshothousewife @lotudolly @euph0riafilms

#🫧 sena #ellie x reader #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #ellie x fem reader #abby x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellabs x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams texts #ellie tlou

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demonsword586 · 2 years ago

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Explaining WHB devils's kinks(since they all have a scientific names on their character introductions)

I can't belive I became active again just to make this post but yea. Anyway since the game is coming out soon,I wanted to make this post to explain their cannon fetishes(and to also boink everyone,since some of them are pretty.......terrifing)(Also a lot of ophilia words)

Anyway let's cut to the chase!

Starting off with Satan and his devils,we have:

Sitri! He's into cardiophilia-fixation on heartbeats and hearts.(okay pretty tame,would probably love cuddling)

Belial has discophilia-love of record sounds and record music (still quite tame,maybe a bit weird)

Leraye with his keraunophilia-sexual attraction to thunder and/or lightning(kinda weird that he get's aroused by thunder but we don't kink shame)

Astaroth with narratophilia-sexual attraction to words and stories,normally dirty ones(omg he's into dirty talk and fanfictions!Honestly who can blame him)

Zagan coming in with kinesophilia-sexual attraction to movement and exercise(oh so he's into working out and sweat....intresting)

Lastly Paimon with haematophilia-attraction to blood(also yes even tho this looks and sounds like a girl,he's actually a guy. Also I have a feeling he would love period oral)

And we can't forget about the king himself Satan,who's into spanking! Pretty self explanitory. (He's probably an ass guy)

Let's move on to Mammon with his gold diggers(not actully but you get what I mean):

First we have Bimet who has timophilia-arousal from gold or wealth(wow an actual gold digger,must be very happy when he looks at his own feet)

Then there's this cutie! Eligos with his diaphanophilia-Sexual fondness for viewing nudity through diaphanous fabrics such as veils, underwear,baby dolls etc.(.....trust me I'm just as confused as you are about the baby doll part)

Lastly the king of greed Mammon with pygophilia-arousal for buttocks(Oh he's the ass man!)

(Also I found out about Valefor's kink but don't have any images.He's into autoplushophilia-arousal from imagining you're a plush toy(legit he's so knightly and want to be a teddy bear!So cute!!!))

Continuing with Envy's devils!:

First off...Foras who's into scopophilia-attraction to looking at naked bodies or watching others in the act(....he's that shadow you feel when you're changing clothes)

Next this slay,Barbatos with that extra heliophilia-attraction to sunlight(this bitch apperantly wants to photosynthesise)

The man who inspired me to do this...Glasyalabolas with necrophilia-(if you're wondering why that word sounds familliar it's because it's attraction to dead bodies......yea....moving on!)

Lastly the king of envy,Leviathan with that breath control-choking and controling your or his breathing if it wasn't clear enough.(why do all the kings have the normal ones,kinda suprising)

Next on the plate we got Beelzebub with his little mafia bosses!(also what are those skin tight pants that they're wearing?)

The biggest Beel shenanigans supporter Bael who also has olfactophilia-arousal of human smeels and odors(....the only man who doesn't mind if you didn't shower for years. Also he can apperantly even cosplay Beel for you)

Next up Stolas who's into pecattiphila(oh sounds italian)-arousal from an act that one belives is a sin(damn he must really love being a devil then,I have a feeling he's also into virgins)

Next up the dog himself,Naberius who likes autozoophilia-sexual arousal from.....being an animal(yes....he's into pet play apperantly)

Following up is Amon(also nice collar) who likes harmatophilia- sexual arousal from incompetence or mistakes, usually made by a woman(*cough* he would love me cuz I'm useless-*cough*)

Ending this pack of wolves with Beelzebub himself who's into olfactophilia-same as Bael,this man likes smelly humans(also what the heck are those things on his knees?!)

Moving on to the fallen angel Lucifer and all the healers he took!

(bro you okay?) First off we have Morax who apperantly loves stigmatophilia-arousal from piercings and tattoos(understandable,he like that little bad boy/bad girl types)

(oh nice muscle titties) Next up Buer with doraphilia-affection towards fur and skins off animals(damn him and Neu-something would get along nicely)

Moving on to Marbas with that touch of merinthophilia-being tied up....probably into shibari as well

Finishing this batch of bad boys with Lucifer himself! Who also has dacryphilia-arousal from tears and sobbing(oh kinky....but damn kinda evil)

Continuing with the boys that make me the most uncomftrable,Asmodeus's demons(unfortunatelly we don't have any more kings,maybe they will come after the game releases)

The most disturbing one for the start,Ronove with his...acrotomophilia-fetish for....amputees(look I don't kink shame but-)

Next up this disaster of a guy,Dantalian who likes autassassinophilia-sexually aroused by the risk of being killed.(also him x theraphy sounds like a pretty nice ship)

(sir don't look at me like that) Phenix,with his pretty tame morphophilia-interest in sexual partners whose body characteristics (e.g., height, weight, skin and hair color) are different from one's own.(basiclly a size kink but with other versions of it. Also...um...is he always cumming? How are his clothes not damp?)

Next up the last sin on the list,Belphegor's demons(kinda love them actually)

Starting with smarty pants,Gusion and his saphiophilia-romantic attraction based on someone's intelligence(damn it he's into nerds)

Following up with Bathin's hodophilia-someone who loves traveling(don't know how to involve this one into the bedroom....playing beach house?....doing it in a winter jacket?...)

Now for my favorite traumatized boy, Andrealphus with his...god...oculophilia-arousal from eyes and.....licking eyes(god why are you so hot yet have one of the weirdest kinks?! What are you?Jobin?!)

Dang it! I will have to make a part 2 for the angels,since I can only add 30 pictures!

Anyway I hope you enjoyed my little presentation,sorry it's so long!

#WHB #what in hell is bad #WHB spoilers #what in 'hell' is bad

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senascoop · 6 months ago

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┊ INSECURITIES THEY ADORE . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎

pairing, enhypen × afab reader . . . genre, scenario(s), headcanons . . . word count, 50—60 each . . . note, these are not things ‘i’ consider as insecurities but rather things that ‘some’ people do and in no way am i shaming anyone (rather the opposite). [LIBRARY] [PART 01]

. , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !

STRECH MARKS : Heeseung adores your stretch marks, seeing them as beautiful reminders of your journey. Whenever he notices one, he gently traces it with his fingers, as if mapping out the path you've walked. To him, they’re a part of what makes you uniquely yours, and he loves how they show your growth, making you even more perfect to him.

. , PARK JONGSEONG ☁︎ 박종성 !

THICK THIGHS : Jay adores your thick thighs because they’re soft, comforting, and perfect for him to snuggle into. He often rests his head there, using them as his personal pillow. He doesn’t understand why you’re insecure, because to him, they’re flawless—whether you’re wearing loose or tight jeans, they always look amazing. To him, they're simply the best.

. , SIM JAEYUN ☁︎ 심재윤 !

FLAT CHEST : You were so insecure about your flat chest, avoiding corsets because you thought you didn’t have enough to fill them. Jake, noticing how it bothered you, always made sure to reassure you that he loved you exactly as you were. He’d remind you how perfect you looked, not caring about societal standards, and that he was deeply attracted to every part of you.

. , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !

PROMINENT EARS : Sunghoon finds your prominent ears incredibly cute, loving how they stand out in the most charming way. He often playfully tugs on them or kisses them, saying they’re one of your most unique features. To him, they add an extra layer of charm, making you even more endearing. He loves how they make you, you.

. , KIM SUNOO ☁︎ 김수누 !

DARK CIRCLES : Sunoo adores your dark circles, seeing them as a sign of how hard you work and care for others. He lovingly teases you, but always makes sure you get enough rest. He’ll bring you cozy blankets, prepare soothing teas, and make sure you're comfortable, knowing that your tired eyes only make him want to take better care of you.

. , YANG JUNGWON ☁︎ 양정원 !

LARGE OR SMALL NOSE : Jungwon adores your nose, whether large or small, because it perfectly matches your face and makes you uniquely you. He loves how it complements your expressions, whether you’re laughing or pouting. To him, it’s not about its size but the way it adds to your charm, making every little detail of you feel even more special.

. , NISHIMURA RIKI ☁︎ 리키 !

BODY ODOR : Riki adores your body odor, even if you feel insecure about it. He insists you smell amazing, like comfort and warmth, and it’s one of his favorite things about you. To him, it’s just yours, something only he can love. No matter how much you worry, he’ll always reassure you that your scent is perfect, just like you.

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ilium-ilia · 2 months ago

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In Limbo

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | mafia!au | masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Six: coming clean

tw: non-con, violence, blood

“Good evening, ladies.”

Disdain taints Aelin’s face in a dangerous way. Her brows narrow at Makarov, and she tilts her head to the side like a bird sizing up a prey she wishes to peck at. Her nose scrunches as if she’s smelt hot garbage—some noisome odor that makes her stomach curl in her abdomen. Mouth splitting open like delicate fruit, you want to tell her to stay quiet, but the fingers squeezing into your shoulders silences you.

“Excuse me?” Aelin questions. Her eyes dart to Marco’s hands and her fingers visibly twitch as they rest on the table. “Not sure who you blokes think you are, but I’d appreciate it if you got your fucking hands off of my friend.”

The way Marco speaks your name has the sparse contents in your stomach curdling. He leans forward, body pushing against the back of your head so that you can feel the way his chuckle rips through his body. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re good friends. Tell her, babe.”

Aelin’s eyes are on you now. Wide, and beautiful. The most recherché of sapphires. But they’re cracking, confusion spiraling throughout her irises, rooting into the flesh as you swallow down your shame.

“Aelin,” you say, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Price,” Makarov interjects. He leans forward, elbow on the table, head bobbing with a sincere nod. “We don’t intend to take up too much of your time.”

There it is—painful realization. It blossoms in Aelin’s eyes like the way mould consumes the tender flesh of bread. Burrowing deep, tunnelling far enough to feed. Her fingers curl as her gaze hardens into steel, piercing through everyone within sight.

“Vladimir Makarov,” she spits.

The man smiles, polite enough to be infuriating. “A pleasure.”

As the weight of the situation settles over the table like thick brume, you find your attention wandering to your phone. It still sits screen up on the table, waiting for another one of Simon’s check-in texts. You yearn to see it light up. There’s no way you can reach for it—to text and ask for help—but leaving his messages unanswered would stir worry in him. It would get him to come.

It would get him to save you; again.

Makarov speaks your name, and like an obedient animal, your attention turns to him. “You look surprised to see us. I thought you would have learned better than to run by now. It didn’t work last time, now did it?”

Your blood thickens into cruor. Veins and arteries blocked, leaving your eyes bulging in your skull and your ears ringing. He grins as the terrible realization of it all falls across your face—your phone.

Even after all these years, you remember the accident that stole Sean Gilroy’s life from him. The call—the way Andrei tore something from the motherboard before leaving the useless, cracked device behind. Have you fallen victim to the same trap?

Is your ignorance about to kill someone else all over again?

“Marco tells me you were doing well. No late payments, always prompt. Your debt had not been an issue and now you’ve missed four due dates. This is very unlike you. What changed?”

Makarov scolds you like a school teacher concerned about missing assignments and poor test results. Each word he speaks is gentle, but the facade is cellophane thin. The last time you saw him he did not leave without spilling blood, and you are not naive enough to believe that you’ve finally grown lucky enough to earn a different fate this time around.

“Debt?” Aelin repeats. She looks at you, hands flat on the table as she leans forward. “Chip, do you owe them money?” When you can’t bring yourself to answer, her gaze is back on Makarov—thick, and demanding. “How much.”

“Mrs. Price, there’s no need to-”

“I said how much,” she seethes between gritted teeth. “A couple grand? A million? Easy, done. I’ll pay it off. Now can you get the fuck out of here and let us enjoy our dinner?”

There’s bickering. Threats uttered in low tones and mandibles clenching so tight that you can nearly hear the creaking of molars—enamale waiting to crack and shatter. Aelin is fiery. Flames lick on the heel of every word she speaks, fingers tense as she points an accusatory finger at Makarov. You’re not sure how much John has told her about this man, but if she knows well enough to hate him, then she should know well enough to fear him.

But she doesn’t. All sharp teeth, she reaches for her purse, claiming she’s going to call her husband to get this all sorted, but you see the way muscles tense beside her. Andrei, standing tall next to Makarov—his nose is straight but there’s a long scar that crosses the bridge. Old stitches that have just fully healed over. He looks different, but he is the same; hands shoved in the pockets of his jumper, icy eyes watching Aelin move.

It’s the same thing all over again.

All your life ever does is repeat.

“Aelin, don’t. Just- please just- just listen to them,” you beg.

Your words get her to freeze just in time for Andrei to snap her purse—and therefore her phone—far out of reach. Makarov hums, seemingly content as he leans back in his seat.

“It seems you’ve finally managed to learn something,” he muses.

A buzz echoes through the table, temporarily silencing the conversation. All eyes snap to your phone, where the screen illuminates with yet another text from Simon.

Is everything still going okay, baby?

Marco’s chuckle is like sour milk. Long bad. Clotted like blood. He leans over you, fingers digging into your skin as he snatches your phone off of the table. Your heart leaps into your throat as he wraps himself around you, holding the screen up for your attention.

“Unlock this for me, will you, babe?” he purs. Hot mint fans against your cheek, burning your eyes as you open the device with your thumb print.

You are still in that kitchen. In that warehouse. Sitting on that chair. Back against the wall. Hand up your skirt. Wretched flesh against yours.

Yeah. All good.

Marco allows you to get one good look at his fabricated response before he kills the screen and places the phone back on the table face down. “Baby,” he mocks.

“You don’t want to make the same mistake this time as you did with Chief Inspector Gilroy, is that it?” Makarov continues.

At the mention of her father, Aelin’s head perks up. As ice builds in your body, she glances back and forth between you and Makarov, pale brows narrowing as she tries to put the pieces of this puzzle together. But she can’t. She’s fumbling. The edges are too sharp, something you know all too well—you’re surprised she hasn’t noticed the blood on your hands yet.

“Chip?” Her voice is almost enough to lull you out of your panic, but your body still prepares for the asperity. “Chip, what is he talking about?”

Before you have the chance to spill your sins for everyone to see, the waiter returns with his hands occupied with two large plates. He’s all courteous smiles and polite conversation as he sets your meals down on the table, but even you’re sharp enough to catch the uncomfortable looks he throws at the men who have interrupted your girl’s night. When he asks if you need anything else for your meals, Makarov quickly dismisses him.

“You’ve been cooperative so far, it’s a shame to see that you’ve fallen from that after all these years,” Makarov continues once the five of you are left alone again. “If you needed a grace period, all you had to do was ask and-”

“No,” Aelin interrupts sternly. She’s nearly leaping across the table now, torso leaning so far forward that Andrei finds it necessary to put his hand on her shoulder and pull her back. Glaring up at him, she shrugs him off. “What the fuck do you mean? What mistake was made with my dad?”

“His death, of course.” His answer is blunt. A wooden club straight to the skull, occipital fracturing, vision going fuzzy.

Her face goes stiff. All her beauty hardens to stone as a shaky breath expels from her chest. “He died in an accident. A car accident that happened years ago,” she claims firmly.

Their bickering continues to the music of clenching fists and suave smiles followed by poetic interjections that leaves Aelin floundering. And then, there’s you. Sitting in a chair, Marco’s hands wandering over you, tracing down your arms as if he’s comforting you—savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. He’s washing away everything good, and you’re not sure you can get it back.

Not after this.

“I got him killed.” Your claim silences the conversation at the table, and for the first time in your life, you feel your stomach churn at Aelin’s gaze. Bitter confusion settles on her face, and even though it’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen, you force yourself to look her in the eyes. “It’s my fault your dad’s dead.”

“What?” she breathes. You’ve never heard her voice tremble like this before—a rabbit caught in a cage, skin quivering as the slaughter approaches. “N-No, Chip, I’ve told you a million times before, the accident wasn’t your fault, there was-”

“They told me not to go to the police, and I did, and he’s dead because of it,” you cut in. Glazed eyes stare at the center of the table as the steam from your forgotten meal begins to dwindle. Your muscles tense in every place that Marco touches you, and you’re certain you’ll be nothing but a statue of grief after this. “Your dad knew something was wrong. Demanded answers. I knew better, b-but I still told him anyway. He was going to take me down to the station, but his phone… they knew. They knew, and they caused the accident, but he was still alive.

“He was stabbed to finish him off. They took the chip out of his phone a-and they… None of it would’ve happened if I just stayed quiet. He would still be alive a-and it’s all my fault and- fuck, Aelin, I-I’m so sorry.”

You’re snivelling now. Uncontrollable tears and snot as the culmination of your sins rears its ugly head in your chest. Your nails are biting into the flesh of your palms, and Marco’s attempt at comforting you with a pat only makes you jump. Eyes squeezing shut, you try to pretend you’re anywhere else, but you’re painfully kept in the present.

When you gather the courage to open your eyes again, you’re met with Aelin’s tear-stained face. A hand presses against her stomach, and you note the way her shoulders heave as if she can’t catch her breath. Her skin blanches. Eggshell white. No warmth like the radiant sun—no sparkle like the stars in the sky.

You’ve killed her. You’ve killed her with your words alone.

“Alright, enough of that, babe,” Marco coos. He’s reaching forward again, fingers pinching at one of the napkins on the table to wipe at your face. When you shy away from his touch, he only grips your chin with his free hand, keeping you still so he can polish you like a trophy.

“You sick son of a bitch!”

It happens faster than your brain can process it. Aelin’s shout. Skin on skin contact. Makarov’s head snaps to the side as Aelin’s chair topples over, and the violence is enough to stun you out of your pathetic pules. The man you’ve spent half of your life fearing clutches his cheek in shock as your best friend raises her hand for another blow.

More obscenities spill from her mouth, garnering the attention of other people in the restaurant, but she does not get the chance to hit him again. Andrei steps forward, hand curling into her shoulder, yanking her back and spinning her around just in time to land a crisp slap to her face. Pulse quickening, you’re standing before you even realize it, fingers reaching for her, an instinct you can’t fight.

You don’t make it a single step before Marco’s pulling you back, hand snaking around the front of your torso to your stomach to hold you in place. “Calm down, babe,” he warns.

“Please stop,” you beg. “She’s not a part of this!”

But Andrei refuses to hear your plea.

His fist sinks into her stomach. Butter splitting on a knife. She crumbles. Cloth falling free from a line—fluttering on the wind, staining on the ground.

Your body reacts, and you have no choice but to listen. Arms flailing, elbows flying—you feel the bony end of your humerus meet something soft, and then air escapes. It huffs, hot and moist. Then, there’s a hand on the back of your head, and pressure, then—

—impact.

Wood bites the tip of your nose, smushing it to your upper lip until your neck pops, snapping to the side. Ichor flows from your nostrils nearly instantaneously, causing you to cough as your eyes water from the sting. You feel him against you—Marco. Hips against your rump, body curling over yours as he continues to press on you, keeping your body bent over the table, fingers curling into your nape as exhales against the shell of your ear.

“You little cunt,” he growls. “Riley’s rubbing off on you in a piss poor way, isn’t he? What happened to my sweet little girl, huh? The one who behaved? What have I always told you? If you need help, you come to me. We make good on that fucking deal, that way shit like this doesn’t happen. Now look. Look at this fucking mess.”

People are shouting now—voices you don’t recognize. Patrons and employees alike, men getting defensive over you and Aelin, women shouting to leave the two of you alone. Makarov orders something in Russian that doesn’t quite fall on your ears, but you feel the way it echoes through Marco’s body as he leans further, nearly crushing you, lips pressing to your cheek, unraveling you with another wretched kiss.

“I’ll see you soon, babe.”

You collapse to the floor as soon as he relinquishes his grip on you, but more hands replace his. Concerned citizens. Good samariatans. Patting your back. Helping you to your feet. Shoving napkins into your hand to stop the blood gushing from your nose. You assure them that you’re fine as you shrug them off, shaky knees nearly knocking together as you stumble towards Aelin on the other side of the table.

She’s on her knees, one hand gripping the edge of the table, the other clutching her stomach. Her chest heaves. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t suck in enough air, and the mascara staining her cheeks smudges just enough to make her look like a corpse.

You reach for her, to hold her, to comfort her—but you hesitate.

Vacillate.

Your hands are bloody.

You’ll only ruin her further.

“Aelin…” You’re sobbing, and her name comes out as nothing but a squeak. She doesn’t look at you. Her eyes stay closed as her face contorts, pain rippling through her body as she tries to stand. “Aelin, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. We should- Are you okay? He didn’t- didn’t hurt you, did he? Oh my god, I-I’m so fucking sorry, I-”

“I’m fine.” She chokes the words out firm and harsh, but the pain seeps into her tone anyway. Aelin stands on wobbling legs, gait awkward and stiff as she wraps her arms around herself. You wait for the blood. For the familiar redolence of offals. There is nothing—just the unmarred swell of her stomach. “I… I need to go.”

Blood splatters on the front of your shirt, but you can’t bring yourself to care about the mess as you watch her turn away from you. “I-I’ll come with you.”

“No! Just… stay here, Chip,” she snaps. Her spine stays stiff and curled as she reaches for her purse and slings it over her shoulder, fingers quickly fumbling for a handful of cash from her wallet before she tosses it on the table. “Call Simon. Get to Terminus. I can’t stay here, I need to-”

A sob cuts her orders off, but she shrugs you away when you attempt to comfort her. There’s nothing you can do except watch her vanish from the establishment, legs tight and locked together as she waddles through the door. All you can bring yourself to do is stare at the gaping hole she’s left. Another gash. Another wound in your life.

As patrons coddle you and convince you to take a seat, you can only wonder if Aelin hates you. She has to. You know she does. She’s never snapped like that before. Pushed you away. (There’s an icepack on your nose now, but you’re too numb to feel the cold, the bite, anything). You killed her father. She ought to push you away. It’s what you deserve. To be ostracized. To be othered. (There’s a woman patting your back, and for a moment she feels like your mother, but when she speaks it’s all wrong). You nearly got her killed. Everyone close to you always ends up hurt. (There’s so much blood). Dead. Killed. Slaughtered. Thrown in a box. (It won’t stop coming). Six feet underground. Gore on linoleum. Back against a wall. Stuck to a chair. Prisoner. Marco’s good girl. (Why won’t it stop?)

(Please stop).

“Baby?”

Then—warmth.

A faint apricitie diving beneath algid waves. There are hands cupping your face. Gentle. Loving. Your blood glues them to your face, attaching every cell until you’re one whole being. When your head is tilted up, and your eyes finally focus, you see it. Him. Your Simon Riley.

“Oh, baby, what happened?” he asks.

His question shatters you. Smashes you into a billion pieces until you’re nothing but fine sand and ichor, a sopping mess waiting for someone else to come around to pick you up, as always. You sob. Bloodied hands dropping your ice pack, you throw your arms around his neck and wail into his chest as you spill your sins. You tell him everything. Makarov. Andrei. Marco. Aelin. It all leaves you like rot from a festering wound.

“Where is she?” Simon asks. He pulls away from you and begins to wipe at your face, smearing tears and blood across your skin. He doesn’t seem afraid of the mess.

“I dunno,” you hiccup. “She just left. Said she had to go, told me to call you a-and get to Terminus and… How… how did you know to come?”

For a split moment, his face softens. Every hard line and puffy scar—even the steel in his eyes. It all turns pillowy the moment he leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “You never use capital letters when you text.”

Despite the protest of the restaurant workers begging you to stay to talk to police when they arrive, Simon escorts you out of the building where his car waits, engine still running. Your nose bleeds all over the upholstery, leather darkening to a vibrant crimson, but he tells you not to worry about it as he speeds off into traffic.

Blood is overflowing where it shouldn’t. Down your sinuses, into the back of your throat, slimy clots slithering through you until you’re coughing them up into your sopping wet napkin. Iron coats your tongue, and it tastes an awful lot like your first kiss—just needs more menthol.

“My phone.” The memory returns to you like a slap to the face. Your stomach drops as more blood gushes into your mouth, but you swallow it back. “They found us because of my phone.”

Simon’s fingers are already white knuckling the steering wheel, but the color of his skin blanches further and travels to the tips of his ears until they’re bright pink. “They’re trackin’ you?”

“Maybe. I dunno. They might have tapped my call with Aelin too, o-or something else, I have n-no idea I just- I just know that it was my phone,” you explain.

“Give it here.”

Without another thought, you dig through your pockets until the item is in your grasp. Placing it in Simon’s hand, he gives it a close once over before he’s ripping the case off of it, elbows attempting to keep the wheel straight as the car continues to speed through the streets. Once the device is properly naked, he looks at his blind spot before rolling the window down and tossing your phone through the gap. Slackjawed, you watch in the rearview mirror as it shatters on the road, glass screen exploding into a trillion prismatic pieces. The car behind you swerves to avoid it.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he promises.

But your mind is very far away—too far to worry about something as trivial as your phone.

“I fucked up,” you choke. Each word you speak is stuffy, nostrils too clogged with blood to get your consonants out properly. “What am I gonna do, Si?”

“It’ll be okay,” he assures.

“She knows. She knows about her dad. What I did. I told her all of it, they made me.” You’re spiraling. An animal caught in a trap. Rubbish caught in a riptide, being pulled too far out to sea to be saved.

“Easy, baby,” he hums. He takes your hand into his. He does not flinch at the blood. “We’ll figure it out.”

Terminus comes into view with the same flashing neon signs that it always sports. Russet bricks, a decent line out the door—you find that you are not anxious about this place anymore. Not the crowd, nor the music that muddies your hearing and shakes every pane of glass in each window; there are worse things that lurk in the dark.

Simon opens the door for you once he’s parked, and you make sure to keep your body tilted forward as you bleed onto the pavement of the carpark. With a hand on the small of your back, he guides you towards the entrance, letting you keep your head down to avoid the stares. There’s quiet murmuring and sly comments from the people you pass by, but all it takes is a single glance from Simon to silence them.

You do not worry about them. All you can think about is Aelin. Her tears. Her anger.

How she hates you.

“Fucking hell.”

John’s voice snaps you to attention. Eyes finding him, you realize that you haven’t seen him in quite some time. Not since you had dinner at their place back in January. He looks different. His beard is disheveled, a far cry from his usual groomed whiskers, and his face is flushed a bright pink. He’s hardly got his gaze on you and you already find your tears beginning to spill again, remorse draining from your body before he even knows of your transgression.

“What happened?” he demands, eyes glancing back and forth between you and Simon.

“I’m fine,” you attempt to assure, but it’s clumsy—unconvincing.

“You and Aelin were supposed to go out for dinner, and I just got a call from her saying she’s at the hospital.” Face tensing, he glances at Simon. “The fuck is going on?”

“She’s at the hospital?” you repeat, voice cracking. Everything twists—a million needles burrow into your skin, and still it does not feel enough to cleanse you.

“Yeah. Christ, looks like you ought to be there, too,” he grunts. “What the fuck happened? Who did this to you? To her? Give me a name and I’ll take care of it.”

The world spins beneath your feet and the only thing that’s grounding you is Simon’s touch. Still, you spiral. Hospital. Aelin. She told you she was fine—but she’s not. There’s something missing. Something else that you can’t name, but it’s here waiting for you to split yourself open on it.

“Baby, go inside,” Simon urges. “I can tell ‘im everything.”

“Vladimir Makarov.” The final nail in the coffin. The first handful of dirt on the casket. The final breath.

John’s face contorts as anger and confusion mixes into a painful dance within him. He steps back, but his fists clench as if he’s ready to fight—he needs to put the anger down somewhere.

“How the hell do you know him?” he asks.

“I owe him money,” you stutter. “I’ve… I’ve owed him for a long time. But I haven’t been paying, a-and I thought that I was able to get away but I… God, John, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I got Aelin hurt and-”

He silences you with a simple raise of his hand and your mouth slams shut. Your fingers yearn for thread, but not for your silly game of string. You wish for a needle. For sutures to keep your lips sealed so you won’t ever have to choke on this shame again.

“How long have you known?” His question is directed at Simon now, sharp gaze puncturing through him, a finger pointing at him as if it’s a spear he wishes to plunge into his chest.

“Price, we shouldn’t talk ‘bout this in front of her,” Simon attempts to rationalize.

“I said how fucking long?”

Incensed fingers curl into the collar of Simon’s shirt as John yanks him forward. For the first time in your life, you watch Simon obey. He follows the ruthless pulling of John’s grasp as he nearly goes limp, and you squeak, arms up in defense as if the violence might soon be directed at you.

“This wasn’t his fault!” you wail.

“The fuck it is,” John spits. “She didn’t know any better, but you do. How long did you think you could keep this from me? What the fuck made you think this shit was alright? How many fucking people have you put at risk, Simon! My fucking wife! My fucking child!”

All air has been lost in the world. You stare, heart empty, blood filling your mouth, spilling out of you like all of the apologies you wish you could articulate but can’t. They fall flat at your feet. Drips and splatters among the grime.

“What?” you breathe.

John goes loose like a dead body. Hands slipping off of Simon’s collar, feet stumbling away from him, his palm slaps over his mouth where his fingers and thumb press and rub into his jaw. His inhale fills him only to deflate, and when he finishes his sigh, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him more empty.

“Aelin’s pregnant.”

follow @mother-ilia to be notified of updates | get early access to chapters here

#ilium writing #sr ilia #in limbo #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #female reader

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red5cars · 29 days ago

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dog days

abbot x service/therapy dog hybrid!reader

tags: discussions of death, death (other party), abbot being reluctant, panic attacks, possibly ooc.

a/n: i got my one like so. here.

he comes home earlier than expected, the door slamming open upon his entry. given the way his irritation permeates in the air, you can tell he had a bad day. sour odor making your nose scrunch.

he's just out of your eyesight, tucked away thanks to the walls of the kitchen. all you can do is listen - rubber soles squished against carpet, erratic yet precise inhales and exhales, cotton crushed under the weight of a man, and finally,

the metallic thunk! of something heavy hitting the floor.

so, he had a really bad day.

slowly, you remove yourself from whatever task occupied you in the kitchen, making your way towards the living room. scents of antiseptic, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide waft through the air, followed by the barest hint of blood. subtle, but not unnoticeable to someone like you.

the sounds from earlier match up with jack's current state; slumped over on the couch, hands covering his face yet doing nothing to muffle his breathing. the thunk! from earlier is accounted for too, prosthetic abandoned in favor of letting his right limb twitch.

side-stepping it, you sit on the couch, maintaining some distance. even though your his service hybrid, he's tentative on treating you as such. moreso, you treating him. the few times he's let you is when he's asleep, vulnerable in both mind and body. he'll never admit it, but his night terrors dissipate the moment he feels your weight on his.

(if only he vocalized it, maybe you wouldn't feel so displaced in your arrangement)

settling in your spot, you wait. wait for his breathing to slow, the twitch in his leg to settle. only then do you speak, starting off with a soft, "jack."

he doesn’t respond. never does the first time. quietly, you scoot closer, but not close enough. you try again, "jack-“

“don't,” the bite in his tone is shocking, can't help but lean back a bit. your gaze shifts, taking in all of him. sure his breathing may have settled, but the gaps between breathing in and out are uneven. his body isn't quaking but his hands have a slight tremor.

you've pushed him, a common occurrence. makes you wonder why you’re still here, not set up with a different owner, one who lets you in rather than shuts you out. it made you feel like a bad dog, and it still does but no to the degree it once did.

still, your tails shifts, slow and uncertain. you can only nod, "okay.. well, is it okay if i keep sitting here?" there's a hopeful lilt in your tone you hope he doesn't pick up on. the need to be good, to show him all the good you can do rivals with his needs. which seem to have no relation to you.

he remains quiet, readying to leave him alone but the angle of his head changes. a slight tilt down, then up.

progress.

letting the silence take over, you scoot all the way to the other side. while you need to remain focused, you doubt the last thing jack wants is your eyes on him. plus, it'd be a shame to lose a privilege you've just got, wouldn't it?

you keep your focus ahead, the tv acting as a mirror, keeping him in your eyesight without turning your head or sneaking a glance.

time passes, unsure whether it's been only minites or maybe a whole hour. the entirety of it all is spent staring at jack's reflection, listening to his breathing, making sure he doesn't have an attack (the few times he's had he left the building despite your protests, returning within an hour looking unphased).

some might get restless at this point, but you don't. can't. your committed to helping this man whether he wants it or not.

the waiting period blurs the moment he opens his mouth, head whipping to his direction as he tells you, "i lost a patient."

oh.

he's mentioned it, every now and then. death is inevitable in his field, looming over the pitt, ready to take their next victim. but he always brushed it off, discussed it with his therapist instead of a dumb dog.

it's why your stunned he brought it up, not following with some dismissive remark. it dislodges you, making you scramble to find a suitable response.

"..i'm sorry," you reply, tail curled around your legs, sympathy and regret in your tone, "that must've been rough."

another silence settles between the both of you, and your half expecting him to go, to call robby or dr.davids. but he doesn't, instead,

he keeps talking to you.

“it was," there's a pause, a shaky inhale, and then the sound of his voice, "the patient he, he was a hybrid," his voice gets heavier at that, dragging himself to explain this, "some sort of dog, i think."

it's not uncommon for hybrids to be taken to primarily human hospitals, but it isn't recommended. the difference in physiology making it harder to operate on them. must've been a dire situation.

he continues without any prompting, "there was a kid stuck on the crosswalk. the hybrid he, he managed to push them towards the sidewalk, getting a scrape at most but the dog-" he stops himself, beady brown eyes fliting to you for a quick moment. you might've thought you imagined it if you weren't already staring at him.

"he got hit," his eyes flick back to the floor, and you pick up on the barest hint of regret. "i knew it was going to be bad, but it was just visceral. like the whole world caved in on his chest. and he had this look like," he shifts, facing you but not looking at you, "like he was begging for some sort of gratification from nearly killing himself," it comes off more as a scoff, but you watch jack's hands begin to shake fully.

"no matter what we did, it wasn't working. there'd always be some sort of complication whether it was because of his ribs collapsing, the bleeding, it all- he just wouldn't get better and-" jack runs a hand down his face, frustration evident once it runs it's course, "and in the back of my mind i couldn't stop thinking about if it was you," you can feel your eyes widen, unaware that you would even cross his mind.

"that- that- what if you were there, trying to act alll heroic to save some kid," his breaths pick up, eyes unfocused, "or what if you were there in the or? and watched me let that guy just die," notes of salt appear in the air. he's swearing, tearing up, maybe even both.

"i mean, you don't even give a shit about yourself because you're too busy taking care of me! and you don't deserve that. you deserve, you deserve someone who loves you, who lets you in instead of keeping you out, who trusts you with everything, who wouldn't abandon you and let you fucking die-"

the rest is choked out, mainly because you throw yourself at him, knocking jack onto his back. crawling forward till your head lands on his chest, his heartbeat echoing in your ear. it's irregular, pattern disrupted by his own self-loathing and guilt.

and jack, being jack, squirms underneath you, attempts to push you off (albeit weakly). he grunts, commanding you to get off him but when he realizes you won't, he crumbles.

commands become cries in the span of a second, voiceless sobs only heard by his heart, felt by the way his chest contracts. you nuzzle your head closer to his sternum, putting as much of your weight on him.

he continues crying underneath you, one hand thrown over his face while the other strokes your back, petting you. it's domestic in a way.

if only it were like that all the time.

"..m sorry," he mumbles, voice still watery and cracking around those two words, "i'm sorry," there's more on his lips, more he wants to tell you, needs to, but he's unable to sound like anything besides a broken record.

you don't say a thing, only turning your head to stare at him. his eyes are stuck to the ceiling, lips pursed as he chokes back down another sob.

the only times you've seen him this vulnerable was when he's asleep, unable to control what haunts him. the sound of his heart under your ear isnt unfamiliar but it's different when he's awake, unable to ignore the fact that he needs you.

desperately.

a few more minutes pass before his cries subside, other hand falling from his face to your back. for the first time since coming back home, his breathing is even, chest rising and falling at a normal rate, "think i feel better."

you don't reply, but a warm feeling spreads through you, something akin to happiness. slowly, you begin to push off but his hands plant themselves on your back, pushing you back down. confused, you lift your head, "what're you doing?"

he looks just as perplexed, his hands relaxing a bit, before fisting your shirt, "stay."

it's simple, but heavy. without another word, you lower yourself back on top of him, letting him know your present. jack's hands relax, beginning to rub your back.

it's soothing makes you drift, eyes fluttering shut after a good minute. in the midst of falling asleep, you feel his chest rumble, the words carried to you soon after.

"thank you."

your tail wags as you fall asleep in his arms.

#jack rabbit abbot #jack abbot x reader #hybrid!reader #the pitt #cw death #reds writes

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steadyposttrash · 2 months ago

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It’s in the snapping of tendons, the creaking of bones, the smell of grease and smoke that true power is revealed. It’s not a canned beauty of soft faces and soft bodies. It’s the beauty of sweat, the smell of iron, the shirt stuck to the skin by humidity and effort. It’s masculinity roaring in the bowels of the world, making the engine of civilization turn.

We venerate, then, the worker, the welder, the lumberjack, the mechanic, the longshoremen. They’re the flesh of the world, the lungs of the earth, the stomach that digests and builds everything around us. May their odors of grease, of cut wood, of gasoline, of poorly extinguished cigarettes spread. May their arms never know laxity, may their shoulders carry everything without giving in. May their masculinity be eternal, devoured with hunger, adored without shame. Because there is nothing more beautiful than a man forged in effort, chewed up by work, spat out into the world like a titan.

#forcemasc #blue collar #aesthetic

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dollfacefantasy · 8 months ago

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do you get deja vu? ♡

toji fushiguro x fem!reader x shiu kong

your ex-boyfriend shows up one night at you and your current boyfriend's home. the two of you decide to let him stay for the night, but the proximity causes old feelings to rise to the surface.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, threesome, voyeurism/exhibitionism, past infidelity, light angst

kinktober slot: day 9 - voyeurism/exhibitionism

"I don't understand how you watch this shit," Shiu says, glancing down at where you're pressed against his side on the couch.

Your head tilts in his direction, eyes narrowing in defense of your film choices. "Um, excuse you. You've seen nastier stuff in real life, which is way worse."

"You're right. That's why I can't believe you watch it for fun," he teases and presses a kiss to your forehead.

You roll your eyes and sink back into the warmth of his body on the couch. You'd known from the moment he'd asked to join your marathon that Shiu wouldn't like slasher movies. He'd proposed the idea to you earlier, and of course you said yes, not wanting him to feel rejected. But you knew before he even sat down that he wouldn't enjoy this.

The gore wouldn't entertain him. He wouldn't see the appeal of the bad acting or campy effects. And while nitpicking would annoy you with anyone else, you were much more lenient with your lover.

You snuggle closer to him and pull the blanket up. It wasn't often you got moments like this with him. He was so controlled by his dedication to his work, sometimes you felt like you never just got to relax with him.

That's why the knock that sounds through your living room moments later spikes your irritation way higher than appropriate.

You scoff and sit up, expecting him to make an excuse about how it'd only take five minutes and then be gone for the next hour. But he doesn't do that. Instead he looks to you, just as unsuspecting.

Furrowing your brows, you rise to your feet. You'd been so sure it was related to his work that you had absolutely no idea who else it could be. You pad over to the door, assuming it's just a delivery you forgot about or something else equally as innocuous. Closing one eye, you press the other to the wooden surface to peer through the small lookout.

Unfortunately, the person on the other side is anything but innocuous.

Toji.

For a second, you consider turning around and plopping down next to Shiu again. When he asked who it was, you could shrug it off and say 'Nobody, sweetheart.' He'd never have to know your ex-boyfriend had stopped by.

But you know getting rid of Toji is never that easy. Plus, he could be here to see Shiu. In fact, you reassure yourself that is probably the reason why he's standing outside your door. It most likely has nothing to do with you or your shared tumultuous past.

As much as you'd begged him to cut him off, Shiu kept in contact with Toji over the last year. You didn't understand it. If you stole one of your friend's boyfriends, you'd never speak to or work with them again out of shame. But maybe it wasn't the same for guys who swiped their buddies' girlfriends.

You open the door, maintaining a neutral expression. "Hi, Toji."

He looks down at you, lips spreading into a small smile. "Hey. How're you doing?" he says, as if this is a completely normal conversation and he hadn't just shown up at random on your doorstep.

"Fine. What are you doing here?" you say, not wasting time.

"Is Shiu home?" he asks. Despite your uncaring tone, he doesn't seem bothered.

You nod and step aside, making room for his large frame to move past you. When he crosses the entryway, you catch the scent of cologne. It smells much nicer than the cheap shit he used to wear when you were together. You couldn't get that odor off your pillows for months after he left. You'd remember it anywhere. If the police put it in a lineup, it would be just as much of an identifier as the scar on his lip.

Rolling your eyes, you figure he got this new one from some woman he slept with. Since you'd split, you'd heard through Shiu he had a talent for finding a myriad of well-off, lonely women to mooch off of.

You follow behind him into the living room. Shiu pauses the movie and sits up to look at the visitor. He stands upon realizing who it is.

"Toji?" he prompts, his tone not unkind.

"In the flesh," Toji responds in the same manner, "You know, a real man doesn't make his lady answer the door."

Shiu cracks a smile at that.

On the contrary, you purse your lips and cross your arms. As if Toji would know anything about being a real man. He wasn't even home most nights when you lived together. It's how Shiu slipped into his place so easily. Maybe if he'd been there to answer the door instead, things never would have changed.

You skulk off to the kitchen to give them some privacy. Through the hall, you can hear the muffled sounds of their voices going back and forth. The conversation stays calm, so you figure it's not too serious.

After a few minutes, Shiu joins you. You can tell from the smile on his face, you're not going to like what he's about to say.

He drifts over to you across the smooth tile floor, his hands finding your waist first and his lips landing on your forehead second. Soft blows of his breath fan over your hairline. The sensation brings a temporary reprieve to you like the gentle blow of a fan when the air conditioner's broken.

You know that's why he does it. Softens you up so you're more malleable to whatever he's about to tell you.

"What is it?" you sigh. Your pupils gaze upward upon his face, the dark circles gleaming with worry.

He chuckles at your trepidation. His thumb swipes at your cheek, pinching the skin between his fingertips for a moment as he gauges your features.

"Toji needs a place to crash for the night," he reveals.

Your expression that he'd been studying morphs into one of distaste. You pull back from his touch and try to untangle the mess of words rising in your throat to protest.

"No way!" you begin simply, "No. I don't want him here overnight. He can go stay with someone else."

He brings you back in by wrapping his arms around you in a tighter circle.

"C'mon, baby. It's getting late. He'll sleep out on the couch. Won't bother you at all," he says.

You frown, still not liking the idea. Obviously. you didn't think Toji would be sharing your bed. That wasn't the issue. The truth of the matter is that you don't want him here at all. You don't want to feel his presence under the same roof. He's a part of your life you'd rather forget.

But Shiu is the part of your life you hold closest to your heart now. He makes it hard to shoot the idea down without hesitating first.

Looking up at him, your lip juts into a subtle pout while your eyes gleam like that of a puppy's. You suspect he feels some sort of obligation towards Toji, some sense of guilt that alleviates through letting him do things like this. You didn't really understand it.

"Why?" you ask, your voice soft and begging, "Can't we just give him money for a hotel?"

The bow of his index finger sweeps down your cheek. His pupils cast over the sweet sight of your face, but you can tell from looking back at them that his mind isn't swayed.

"Money for a hotel, hm? You know that's money I could spend on you instead," he purrs. His head ducks down to kiss along your jawline. "That's a new handbag... A pair of shoes you've been eyeing... your nails and hair..."

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment as you enjoy the low vibration of his voice combined with the tender pecks on your face. Of course, he'd tried bribery before true explanation. But unfortunately for you, it works. God, why does he have such a hold on you? It's ridiculous, but as you imagine yourself all dolled up for him, putting up with Toji seems a lot more tolerable.

Maintaining your displeased look, you stare him in the eyes. "Fine. But we're finishing the movie in our room. I'm not watching it with him," you say.

"Deal," he agrees, sealing the covenant with a kiss.

After your mini conversation, Shiu set Toji up on the sofa while you awaited him in the bedroom. You took the time to properly prepare yourself for bed during this period. You shed your clothes for the one of the luxurious silken sleep sets Shiu had bought for you.

Fluffing up your pillows, you stretch out across the plush array of blankets and cushions. You can hear a bit of muffled talking, but it seems small and irrelevant. Chatter to fill the lull of silence.

Minutes later, your boyfriend finally joins you. He smirks at your sprawled out position, his mind likening the sight of you to that of a model in a seductive perfume or lingerie advertisement. His eyes rake over the smoothness of your legs and the soft curve of your hip. Nudging the door shut, he comes over to the edge of the bed and climbs up.

His frame hovers above your own. You stare back up at him and cup his cheek. He grins at the touch and turns his head to kiss the center of your palm.

"You sure you wanna keep watching that movie?" he breathes, leaning down to kiss the area between your jaw and your neck, "I think I could give you a greater thrill."

A soft giggle comes from you. Your legs squirm and rise to wrap around him. He takes the move as an invitation and kisses your throat with more dedication. His teeth scrape gently at your sensitive skin while his lips apply light suction to make a few marks.

You sigh, the tension you felt from earlier melting away. His hands roam your figure and massage any that remains right out. You tilt your head back to give him more room to work. One of your hands slides around the curve of his head to thread your fingers within his hair.

In no time, he has you whimpering for him. Your hips twitch with desire as your chest rises and falls from your increasingly shallow breaths. His fingers slot between your legs to rub at your pussy through the thin sleep fabric.

"Shiu," you whine, your nails scratching at the tender skin of his scalp.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he murmurs, "You were such a good girl for me. Let me return the favor."

He grinds his growing bulge against your thigh, letting you feel just how he intends to repay you. Both of your quiet noises begin filling the room. Wanting grunts and delicate moans echo about as you two undress and shift into a more accessible position.

Unfortunately, all of these sounds could be heard by the third party in your home as well.

When Shiu came into the bedroom, he hadn't shut the door all the way. It appeared as if he did to your eyes, but upon closer inspection, you would find it was still ajar the smallest amount. No matter how tiny the sliver was though, it was enough for your carnal noises to travel down the hall and out into the living room.

Toji lies there in silence, eyes locked on the ceiling overhead.

Normally, this situation wouldn't bother him. He'd laugh quietly to himself or maybe even jerk off if he was feeling it. But he can't do that right now because this is different. This is you.

He recognizes every little squeak that hits his ears. All of them, you use to make for him. It's as if he can see every action replaying in his mind.

The broken whimper always came out when he pulled down your panties. The needy gasp when he'd kiss your puffy clit and lap at your folds a few times. Finally, the long, whiny mewl makes itself known, and he knows that's the sound of you getting filled up. Only the difference between his memories and reality is the name you're crying out.

He sighs and rubs his face. Down below, his cock begins to involuntarily swell. It makes him feel fucking pathetic, but he can't help it. Like a dog trained to the sound of a clicker, Toji's brain had been conditioned by those sweet little moans.

They don't let up either. They only grow higher in pitch and mixed with the low groans coming from Shiu. You always were vocal in bed. He loved that about you, thought it made everything so much more fun. But now he can't stand it, knowing it wasn't just him who had the ability to make you lose control.

He reaches up and adjusts the throw pillow under his head, as if finding a better position would allow him to ignore the symphony of pleasure filling his ears. He huffs and rotates onto his side, rolls his shoulders a few times to try and manually work some tension out. But nothing works. There was no pose that would drown out those sounds.

A burning ache settles in his sternum. He's not sure what it is. Maybe irritation. Maybe jealousy. Maybe regret. Could even be a mix of all three.

He turns onto his back again. The ceiling is blank enough to provide no distraction, allowing his thoughts to come to the forefront of his mind.

How did he let this happen? He didn't want to sound like some cliche rom com or something, but he couldn't wrap his head around how he let you slip away.

The natural instinct of most men would probably be to blame you for being a slut and Shiu for being a traitorous asshole, but Toji couldn't really find it in himself to point at anything but the mirror when looking for the cause.

He knew he hadn't treated you right. In his defense, he never expected things with you to go so far. He hadn't presented you with some image of a stand-up guy and then taken the mask off later. The first time you saw him was at a seedy bar you were way too sweet to be in. He was in a bad mood already since the target he'd been waiting to intercept was seemingly a no-show.

You'd bumped into him when walking by, and while he rolled his eyes at you for that, upon looking closer he found himself more interested. The two of you ended up talking for a few hours before you went back to your place.

What he'd meant to be one night at most, a small fling to pass the time and have a place to sleep for a while, stuck with him. Maybe it was the pretty sounds he could hear right now that sunk your hooks in and prevented him from just leaving.

He stayed with you a while. You were the first real thing he'd had since losing his wife. Things between the two of you were never perfect or close to some romance out of a movie, but they could be really good at times.

Thinking about it now did get him angry at Shiu. He knew you got frustrated with Toji over his bad habits. He also knew that Toji left you alone for stretches of time when he was away on jobs.

When he caught the two of you, he'd been coming home from the race tracks. He knew you'd be pissed because that's how you always were when he went out gambling. But when he walked through the cramped entryway of your shared apartment, all he'd heard was those sweet whines of yours.

He'd preferred you being pissed to that.

He wonders if he walked into your bedroom right now if it'd look the same. Him standing in the doorway silent while Shiu pounds into you from behind, the both of you jolting to a stop when you notice his presence.

Getting up from the couch, he walks towards the hallway in your direction. He knows he shouldn't. It's not worth it and it won't change anything. But something gnaws at him, giving the urge to see you like that. It could be the last time.

Through the darkness, he pads down to your bedroom door. The small crack of light splits the double doors in half. He comes right up to it and leans a little closer. It's enough space for him to get a glimpse of what's going on inside.

You're in the same position as the day he found you and Shiu together for the first time.

Your face is squished under Shiu's palm against the mattress while your ass is raised up in the air. He can see the way your knuckles tighten as you clutch the blanket beneath you. Shiu kneels behind, hips bucking into you in a nice, firm rhythm.

Each stroke rocks your body forward and back. The noises are louder and clearer now that he's closer. He watches your facial features contort as you make them. The bulge between his legs throbs, aching for his hand to provide some relief.

Reluctantly, he meets his body's desire. One of his arms slithers South, letting his fingers caress his hardness through his pants. He lets out a deep sigh at the dull feeling.

Shiu's hand releases your head and slides up to rest between your shoulder blades. He presses down, pushing your body into a steeper arch. Your legs tense at the feeling. Toji can see how your thighs quiver at the deeper angle.

The heel of his palm grinds against his tip harder while the rest of his hand rubs his shaft. He lets out a sigh, taking in every little movement with half-lidded eyes.

You're starting to get close. He can tell from the way your fingers flex around the material between them and how your noises become more drawn out.

That feeling in his sternum grows uglier, and he hates it. This was fucking pathetic. Jerking off outside your room to the sight of you getting your brains screwed out by another man. He grits his teeth and rubs himself harder. A small moan works its way from between his lips. He can tell you heard something by the way your eyes flutter and try to focus on the door.

Before you can call him out, he decides to insert himself into the situation.

He pushes the door open and leans against the edge frame. His eyes hold disapproval as they fixate upon your figures in clear view.

"You know if you two are gonna be so loud, you should really try shutting the door," he says.

You startle at his sudden appearance and try to jerk upright. "Toji!" you practically shriek.

That feels right to him. That should be what you're crying out while full of cock.

"You fucking perv!" you continue, "Get the fuck out!"

You try to gain your bearings, but he can see Shiu's not letting you up. He hasn't quit thrusting either. His hips keep rolling against the plush of your ass as his head turns in Toji's direction.

"You get lost on the way to the bathroom or something?" Shiu says casually, "You know it's not nice to interrupt."

"Shiu!" you whine, still trying to squirm away. Your cheeks are full of heat. The idea of being so openly used had you feeling more worked up than you would've thought.

"Shhh, princess. You're alright," he says, giving you a soothing pat on the ass. He grabs each side of your hip for further leverage to plow into you with.

Shiu's lips pull into a teasing smile as he looks at Toji. "C'mon. It's not like you're not enjoying listening," he says, eyes flickering down to the obvious strain at the front of his pants.

Toji shrugs, unbothered by the callout. "If you're putting on the show, why should I ignore it?" he says.

"You're a fucking creep," you say. You try to keep your voice steady, but the words come out almost whimpered, to your humiliation.

Your shame went further than being seen in this compromising position though. You couldn't deny what this scene reminded you of - the most disgraceful moment of your life. That night when he came home, walking in on you and Shiu unintentionally. You remember the way he stood there, not saying a thing. He didn't get angry like you expected him to. It was as if something just faded in his eyes. The way he looked at you dimmed.

It feels ugly thinking back on it now, sharp contrast to the bliss Shiu's cock is battering into you. You'd tried to justify it for so long, but you can't think through it at this moment. All you're left with is the guilt and thrill of doing something that feels forbidden.

"Just get out, Toji," you whimper, not even putting up a front this time. You turn your head against the blanket further and shut your eyes.

"Don't be rude, sweetheart," Shiu chides from above.

His eyes are still on the other man in your room. He finally pulls out, giving you a moment to breathe and pull a blanket over your lower half. He leans back and sits against some pillows, body on full display.

"You know, if you want to join, all you have to do is ask," Shiu says.

Your head pops up when you hear that. You stare it at him in pouty confusion, but he's not put off by it.

"Don't act like you wouldn't like the idea, baby. I felt how tight she squeezed me when you saw him," he teases.

More burning embarrassment stings your cheeks. You try to come up with some way to dispute what he said, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, you opt to lower your face against the sheets again. Your boyfriend chuckles, sweeping his hand over your head before looking back at the other man.

Toji stands slightly closer to the bed now, but there's no indication on his face as to whether he plans on taking the offer or not.

"It's not like we haven't shared before," Shiu says. You can hear the knowing look in his eyes.

This statement causes you to look at him again with a raised brow. Before you can ask about it, Toji speaks.

"You know it's not the same," he says.

You look over at him for a moment, taking in the look on his face. A strange concoction of frustration and lust. Your eyes can't help but catch on the familiar swell in his pants as you go to look at Shiu again.

"You two have shared before?" you ask, unsure of how you feel about the idea.

"Mhm," he answers bluntly, "A few different times. But he never wanted to share you."

The concept takes a few moments to register in your mind. At first you feel warmth blossom in your abdomen. But as the unspoken part of the sentence seeps into you, shame extinguishes the pleasant feeling.

Your chest feels hollowed out as you stare at him now. While each of your positions are the same as the day everything fell apart, it's as if you're seeing him from a new angle.

You never thought of Toji as attached to you in that way. You always assumed you were the one pining after him for most of your relationship, longing for feelings that would never be returned with a matching intensity.

God, you felt so stupid now. Stupid and selfish. A horrible combination.

The silence in the bedroom is painful. You'd honestly prefer he just blow up on you and Shiu. Explode in the way he should have when it first happened. But he doesn't.

"If you're not in the mood to join, maybe you'd prefer to watch," Shiu offers, a touch of softness to his words this time around.

He reaches over and grabs you by the waist, tugging you on top of him. You're facing away from him, sitting nude atop his body while staring into your ex-boyfriend's eyes. He starts to lift you up while lining himself up at your entrance below. It makes you squirm, being handled and moved while under observation like this.

You manage to hold in the moan that wants to burst out when he slides you down. Keeping your hands firmly planted on his thighs, you take a second to focus on keeping your composure. His dick feels so good inside you, but the negative emotions you felt before haven't gone away. They're swirling together inside your torso. You feel the need to confirm Shiu's idea to alleviate them somewhat.

"It would be nice, Toji," you say as tenderly as you can in this situation, "It would be better if you stayed."

That gets his lip to quirk upward on the unscarred side. He runs a hand through his inky black hair, pushing it back out of his face.

"Thought you said I was a fuckin' creep who should get the fuck out," he mocks.

Shiu chuckles from behind you while his hands lock around your hips, rolling you down and grinding his cock against your insides without moving much. Your eyes flutter and you bite your lip, but besides that you keep control of your reaction.

"I changed my mind. I wasn't thinking clearly before," you correct.

"You sure you're thinking clearly now?" he asks, eyes glancing down at the point of connection between you and Shiu.

Heat rushes to your cheeks again, but you nod. "I'm sure," you confirm.

You want to tell him that you'd feel even worse if he left and went back out there to be all alone. The guilt would probably ruin whatever release Shiu was working you towards before too. But more important than that, you want to say that you didn't mind his presence right now. That you don't mind it ever because of anything he did. That it bothers you because ever since that day, his figure has transformed into a great, big, flashing reminder of your selfish disloyalty.

But none of it comes out because you sense it would probably feel cheap. Too little, too late to sound sincere.

Instead you just extend an arm to wave him over and pat the bed. You wouldn't even make him sit in the chair in the corner. He could be as close to you as possible without being involved himself.

He pauses for a moment. Coming from you, this invitation seems much more appealing. He tentatively closes the distance between himself and the bed and takes a seat on the end of the mattress, leaning against the bottom board.

Your heart slams against your ribcage in erratic pulses. Both your body and your mind don't know how to comprehend this situation. You know innately you like it. You can feel somewhere deep down the satisfaction from having the two of them here at the same time. But on a more controlled, conscious level, it's strange.

You can feel Toji's eyes scanning over your body, taking in every small detail. From behind, Shiu continues to bounce you up and down. He's growing more bold now that you and Toji have seemed to have settled into this idea.

Shiu's hand reaches up to grab the back of your neck. He pulls a little, forcing your spine to arch and your tits to puff out. You know he wants you to contribute more, so you respond by swiveling your hips.

"There you go," he hums from where he lays against the pillows, "You gotta do your best for Toji, doll. I'm sure he's been missing this."

For Toji. The words bring a rush of unanticipated arousal through you. You whine softly and continue to work yourself up and down on Shiu's shaft, your walls squeezing him with every rise to the tip.

The mention of his name has an effect on Toji too. He feels his cock kick in his sweats. Now that he's been accepted by the two of you, he feels comfortable shimmying his sweatpants down a bit so he can grab his length. He wraps his thick fingers around the heavy appendage and strokes. His eyes train on your bouncing breasts. When the two of you were together, he loved them, practically always had a hand on one. The fact that Shiu doesn't take advantage of those assets and instead focused on groping your ass drives him fucking crazy. But right now, that's a good thing.

He spits down onto his palm to make his tugs more slick. The noise draws your attention. He can see the lust that overcomes your pupils when your mind registers what he's doing.

"Toji..." you whimper.

A shuddery breath rattles from his chest. That wasn't a dream or a memory. It wasn't tainted in hate or drenched in confusion. That beautiful, heavenly sound had been meant for him as nothing but an act of passion. He almost loses it right there, but he manages to hold himself together.

You ride a little faster, subconsciously matching the rhythm of Toji's hand. Leaning forward, more of your weight presses onto your boyfriend's thighs. You use the increased balance to drive him deeper each time and hit all the special spots inside you.

Your vision stays on Toji's cock. You can't help it. It's beautiful. Stunning, entrancing, divine. All appropriate descriptors for the piece of anatomy only a few feet from you. It's long and thick, perfectly proportioned. Bulging veins sprawl from the base to the flushed head that oozes precum above. The pearly beads slide downward and mix with his spit to create a shiny lather over the surface.

He knows you're watching, and that's why he puts extra effort into his performance. He makes his movements much more fluid and exaggerated than they would be if he was doing it at home to a memory.

"Missed me?" he teases.

Your eyes dart away from his dick and up to his face. There you meet his piercing eyes. You stare into each other for a few moments. Communication without words. The message flowing between the two of you transcends even beyond thoughts. All that's left is pure emotion.

Everything feels so much more intense while looking at him. Shiu's fingers dig into your ass cheeks harder, his palm claps against the flesh louder, and his cock ruts deeper. The only thing that's muted in any way are the sounds of his grunts and groans.

You pant while continuing to split yourself open on his length. Your eyes droop with lust as you stare at him. Finally a response to his statement makes its way to your mouth.

"Of course I did," you say. The words come out breathy and full of longing because of course you did. Of course you missed him.

Your head falls back so that you're no longer making eye contact with him, but you can feel that you're still the center of his vision.

He jerks his cock harder. His fingers tighten around it, bringing a brighter red to the surface of his skin. He actually moans too, unable to feel shame for it in the heat of the moment.

In a matter of minutes, all three of you are closing in on release. Shiu's hips buck up to meet yours while Toji thrusts into his own fist. Three voices sound throughout the room now instead of just two. While only you and Shiu are touching, it feels as though you're all moving together, rolling with the same impulse.

"Shiu," you whimper sharply, an alert that you're about to lose it.

He recognizes the tone in an instant, the sound bringing a smirk to his face. "You ready to cum, princess?" he taunts.

You nod wildly, your head bobbing just like your hips are.

"I can tell. But before you do, I want you to ask Toji," he says.

Your hips sputter in their rhythm, the command shooting through you like a bullet. You hesitate but only for a moment. You wanted to cum bad. The need clawed at you more than the embarrassment of asking him for permission did.

He's already looking at you when your gaze returns to him.

"T-Toji," you whimper out. Your lip quivers a little as you will the words to come out, "C-can I cum?"

He continues to stare at you for a moment before wordlessly nodding. Your ex-boyfriend who'd always been able to keep his head under pressure seems dazed in this moment. A rush of conflicting feelings cloud his mind and make him feel some sort of flustered.

You feel release approaching fast in the heat of the moment, you lift your hands from Shiu's legs and reach out to him. Waving desperately, you beckon him into your arms. He's not sure what you're going for at first, but he indulges you and leans forward.

Your hands land on either side of his head and pull him in for a searing kiss. The moan that comes from him against your lips burns you in the best way. You let out a harsh breath and slide your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss as you cum. Your body shudders while he bucks into his fist with feverish jerks.

In the split second that you had made that decision, you hadn't considered how Shiu would feel. The only thing on your mind was your craving for Toji. But based on the moan Shiu lets out and the way his load fires into your cunt, you're pretty sure he's not too upset about it.

Toji finishes moments later, spurting milky ropes of cum out into his palm. He pants against your lips as the two of you continue to make out. Without physically grabbing you, he keeps you in place. He wasn't going to let you pull back yet. This would last as long as he could stretch it.

That turns out to be only about twenty more seconds. It's then that you start to lean back, slipping Shiu's cock out of you and collapsing against your luxurious sheets.

Toji sighs as he comes down from the high and takes in the sight of the two of you. Shiu rubs your shoulder while you glance at him with a gentle look in your eyes. He sits there, wondering if it would be awkward to leave so soon after or if there's something he should say.

You turn to look at him before he can bolt. He can't help but notice that your lips are still a little love-swollen from your exchange. It hurts more than anything else. You stretch out your fingers subtly, silently offering for him to come closer, potentially to stay.

But he can't.

This was already probably a mistake. It wasn't gonna help him get over you any faster, and it wasn't going to get you back from Shiu. Not that he should even want that. This didn't erase your initial betrayal.

He grabs your hand and gives it a brief squeeze before standing up and pulling his sweats back into place.

"I'll try to be out of your hair as soon as possible tomorrow. Thanks for letting me crash," he says, keeping it simple.

The look in your eyes says you want to say more. You want him to stay so you can talk. But you don't say anything. Partially because Shiu's here and you wanted the conversation to be private, partially because you don't think you deserve the last word.

So you just watch him go. Shiu nuzzles into your neck from the side, pressing a few more kisses to the heated skin. You lazily return the affection, exchanging tender gestures until he pulls you close and starts to drift off.

Now it's your turn to lie there in silence and stare at the ceiling. The burning ache has migrated from Toji's sternum to your own. It keeps you locked in place on the bed, stiff as a board with Shiu's relaxed one draped half on top of you. The feeling of his soft skin and warm limbs isn't enough to push out the guilt and regret.

You turn your head to the side, looking through the darkness of your room. The only thing that really manages to draw your attention is that the bedroom door is now fully closed.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro x you #shiu kong x reader #shiu kong x you #shiu kong smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #ch: toji fushiguro 💌#ch: shiu kong 💌

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creampie-capital · 3 months ago

Text

║ᴛʀᴀꜰᴀʟɢᴀʀ ᴅ. ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ʟᴀᴡ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ║

↳「ʙᴀʙʏ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ」║ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴀʙʏᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ ➠ 18+

ɴᴀᴍᴇ║Trafalgar D. Water Law

ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ/ᴍᴀɴɢᴀ║One Piece

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║9,623

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

His teeth bit into his tattooed clasped fingers with golden eyes burning holes into your figure. The thin row of brow hairs on his forehead was furrowed as he pondered intensely.

It felt as though an invisible force were pounding upon his head, yielding a throbbing headache that drove him to desire steady land for once.

Myriad's of deliberations and prospects inked out on a whiteboard in his mind whilst the weight of the situation established its place on his shoulders.

You were pregnant... and you didn't even know it.

It was obvious to the medical specialist, he knew the transformations of an individual's body and depicted via all the symptoms you were starting to exhibit.

Although there was not much difference in the size of your abdomen, you were starting to biennial distinctions in your appearance.

Shadowed under circles marking its place beneath your (e/c) eyes, permitting the heart crew to see your signs of insomnia.

Late at night, the pirate captain could hear you rummaging around in the kitchen, foraging for anything that makes your belly full and assists in welcoming deep slumber.

You were often the first one seen early in the morning tending to your duties. Most of the Heart Pirates assumed you were an early riser, not aware of the fact that you had not even rested in your bed.

In addition, you were starting to become sensitive to odors and have an aversion to delicacies you once enjoyed.

Meals were usually prepared by whoever felt like cooking until you had come aboard the Polar Tang. Annoyed with the inconsistencies of meal preparation you bitterly took over the duties as the chef.

You were diligent as a cook and never allowed anyone to miss a meal. For one, you were not going to cook meals for the crew, only for them not to eat it, you won't let your time and work be wasted. And two, if the crew were not properly nourished, they would fail in their assignments and bring shame to the Hearts Pirate.

The rendition of your cooking had become consistent and was normalized quickly. Only recently had you relinquished your position as the Heart Pirate's cook and distanced yourself from both the kitchen and the bar.

Accounting for those situations, you also became visibly ill. You began to wheeze out throaty abrasive coughs, the kind that made a tickle erupt in the back of your throat just by hearing it.

Your nose appeared stuffy, sniffling every few seconds, and you needed to blow it frequently. There were even times when you had a nosebleed that lasted far longer than it should have.

Furthermore, there were changes to your attitude. Unlike most of the Heart Pirates who were rather chill or vibrant, you were more aloof and reserved.

You didn't speak unless necessary, remained distant from the crew, withdrawn from everyone socially, and persisted in being rather supercilious.

However, recently, there was a noticeable shift in your character. You angered quickly, snapping on usually Clione and then turning around the next second only to deflate in Ikkaku's arm and ask what is the meaning of life.

There were small moments when the captain caught you weeping over a particularly soppy book and moping heavily after the series concluded.

You tended to act almost robotically and coldly to the Heart Pirates before, but now, prominent actions are beginning to make you appear more human.

Lastly, such a prominent symptom of your pregnancy was your nausea. Law would catch you gripping onto something securely, swaying about as you either appeared dazed or sick.

He could see your jaw clench, hear your teeth grinding as you attempted to collect yourself and keep the contents of your stomach where they should abide.

Sometimes you would lose that battle, however, and be stationed in the bathroom for hours. Thankful for the seal-tight rooms, passerbys didn't need to hear the nauseating retching unless they placed their ears upon the metal doors.

Law couldn't help but chastise himself; it was his fault for doing this to you. A diligent crewmate and a strong warrior, you were, but you now remained almost bedridden.

That night in his room should have never transpired, he shouldn't have given in to his desires so easily. He was a strong-willed man, albeit sadistic in nature, but he understood when there are some things you should not do.

But alcohol coursed through his blood, his body warm and mind distorted. Celebrating a win against the Marines always warranted some drinks passing around, and he was always mindful of his intake.

However, that night he consumed more than he should have and knew his judgment was clouded, so in response, he headed for his bedroom.

He readied himself for a shower, stripped of his top and hat, and had his hands ready to remove his bottom, when a knock at the door startled him.

Opening it, he remembered the shock of finding your figure standing in front of his door with hands hanging slackly by your side.

Your (e/c) optics seemed glassy and your lips were swollen. Your expression appeared dazed and you very undoubtedly displayed signs of being heavily intoxicated.

You didn't wait for him to let you in, you just entered and slammed the door behind you. At that moment you had let yourself drop your hard exterior and confined in the captain about your emotions.

Bottling up all your anger, grief, pain, and all others, the tears had run fast like shooting stars and your vulnerability had clearly shown.

And then as you stood before him weeping about your frays, you pleaded for support. When he didn't reply you began to remove your clothing, allowing for yourself to be bare in his presence.

Law knew he should have looked away, ordered for yourself to dress again and leave his sight at once but Law... Law was a weak man for a beautiful and strong woman.

Your judgment was clouded and so was his own. He wasn't sure that consent could have been made when the two of you could barely even stand correctly.

But none of that mattered when he fell into his lustful desires and used your body as if he owned it.

His lips were on yours in mere seconds, melting in your warm touch and already losing himself to the thought of ravishing your body.

Law's hands grasped your thighs, carrying you over to his bed and laying your nude back against his sheets.

Bare chest pressed against bare chest as you pulled him to you as if attempting to mold your bodies together.

Your hands ran through his hair, tugging on it when his fingers would ghost against your lower regions. His hot breath fanned against your skin as he traveled down from your face to your breast, from your stomach, before finally reaching the space in between your legs.

Only incoherent mumblings and occasionally his slurred name left your swollen lips and echoed in his bedroom.

Your grip never once left his ebony-hued locks, forming a firm hold that you tugged and jerked as he stimulated you intensely.

His tattooed hands held onto the bottom of your thighs, holding them against his head and cherishing the pressure of your squeezing limbs against his body.

The captain's belly was once full of cold liquor but now he felt as if it was nothing but an empty sac. His bibulous mouth devoured you greatly, drinking in your arousal and lapping up your climax.

He would have continued to consume your essence and quench his thirst for your taste that he couldn't get enough, but your pleas for him to be inside of you were driving his deluded self mad.

How could he let this beautiful soul beneath him continue to beg and cry for him in such an assertive manner?

Law was weaker-willed than he thought.

His pants and shoes were soon removed, his entire tattooed body on display as he returned to his place above you.

Your legs wrapped around his muscular hips, egging him on to enter inside. And he couldn't wait any longer.

He helped guide himself inside and felt the stretch of your body taking him in. Every inch was being greedily devoured until he reached the deepest part and even then you were begging for more of him.

That drunken night on the Polar Tang was the start of it all. He should have controlled himself but in his intemperate haze, he let himself fall victim to your own intoxicated wishes.

You wanted hard, you wanted deep, and he rolled himself so far inside he pressed against the entrance to your womb.

His name was the only thing you could think, moaning it like a siren's song and entrapping the captain in a lustrous stupor.

Every inch of your body he had touched, either grazing it with his fingertips or kissing it with his warm lips.

Sweaty bodies rubbed and stroked against each other almost erratically, the pounding of his hips and the scratching of your nails were a mix of hidden attraction and intimate longing.

Law would be a liar if he denied ever having a physical attraction for you, and a bit of interest from your hidden personality.

The state of having you so vulnerable, reacting to him so humanely, and praising him for being so good had removed the last bit of rationality in his head.

One climax was not enough, no. He made it a multitude of ecstasy coursing through your veins and releasing along with one another.

He should have at least pulled out, allowed himself to decorate your skin with remnants of himself, but he just couldn't.

Law could blame it on how you clasped your ankles around his back, forcing him to stay inside no matter what. Or on how you pleaded for him to release inside and to make you feel something.

Letting himself spray inside should have been enough but like waves crashing higher and higher on a shore, it wasn't. He couldn't even remember how many times he had emptied himself.

By the time both of you had finished, you had met the darkness of slumber and remained sleeping peacefully beneath him.

With falling from his high, now the surgeon of death was sober enough to clean your bodies free of any indication of what just occurred.

He helped dress your slumped figures and carried you to your room where he tucked you into bed.

In the morning, Law expected you to confront him about the night prior, but to his surprise, you appeared unaware of what had happened.

The man hadn't left any contusions or marks on your body and had cleaned you of any liquids. It was enough to counter any thoughts of intercourse.

You went about your day like any other and when you looked at him it was with a look of respect and admiration.

It wasn't a look as if the man hadn't just had you submitting beneath him, breaking the skin of his back with your nails and pleading for him to touch you.

Law knew he should have informed you that day about what transpired the night before but even he was afraid of your reaction.

He didn't want it to seem as if he took advantage or forced himself on you. If you didn't remember then he was sh*t out of luck.

So instead of notifying you, he stayed quiet, and now that he held his tongue he finds himself in a predicament.

Soon you were going to have to realize you were pregnant and be absolutely flabbergasted by it when you have no recollection of sleeping with anyone.

In your stomach would be where your and Law's child is growing.

And he's been contemplating that thought ever since he noticed the changes in your body. Law was a grown man who, without a doubt, had to take responsibility.

But with you being pregnant at sea was dangerous and the fact that you were lustful for trouble worried him.

A child at sea would be a liability, a weakness that could be used against him. They interacted with danger every day and confronted fights head-on.

The safety of a child wouldn't be guaranteed, and any day you or Law or anyone of the Heart Pirates could lose their life.

Remembering how he felt when he lost his family to the extermination crew, how devastated he was, and became mentally and morally ruined.

The thought of doing that to his own flesh and blood was... unnerving.

And to add to his thoughts, he didn't believe he, nor you, were even ready for a child. The two of you may be adults with some years to your time, but it still felt as if he weren't prepared one bit.

There was still so much to do, so much to see, and the responsibility of a child seemed all the more daunting.

Heaving a heavy sigh, the surgeon of death stood from his seat in the library and exited the room. The headache grew worse and his never-ending deliberations added to his stress.

What to do, what to do? Law didn't know and he cared too much to contemplate the future in his state of mind.

Man oh man did he need a drink.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"(Y/n)-ya."

Your gaze shifted from the window to your captain, whose figure neared your frame. "Captain." You greeted, sniffling slightly, before standing to your feet, only to wobble from a sudden wave of dizziness.

The man was quick to reach your frame, his hands grasping your hips as your own fell upon his toned biceps.

Groaning aloud, you swallowed strenuously and shook your head narrowly. You inhaled audibly and once the dizziness had passed you were quick to remove his grasp from your hips.

"My apologies, Captain. I've just been a little sick for a while."

His stomach felt as if he swallowed a stone with the way he discerned it to be heavy as lead. He pursed his lips, concealing his hands in his blue jeans.

"I noticed," he stated, his molten golden gaze on anything but your frame. Come with me. I'll give you your diagnosis in my office."

"Yes, of course, Captain," you replied without hesitation. Your loyalty lies with the strong, and you've encountered many strong men.

But Captain Law was an anomaly to you. He was powerful, one of the strongest Worst Generation Supernova's however there lied those even stronger than him.

Regardless of that, there was just something about his mentality that attracted you to him. Calculated cool, he appeared level-headed at first. Deep down, he was rather compassionate for his people and those he cared about.

The fact that everyone on his ship meant something to him sealed the deal.

Law guided your sluggish figure from the library to his office, where he waved a hand to the examination bed.

His gaze remained on his equipment as he prodded your body, and sampled your blood for testing. All while he performed his action with precise and clean movements, his brows were furrowed with a clear indication of distress.

The captain's expression was unnerving and it drove your hands to become clammy. Your stomach churned from the sterile odor of his office, the diminutive amount of food in your system felt as if it wanted to purge from your body, but you swallowed down the queasiness.

When the tattooed man stepped back into the room, you noticed his jaw was clenching and a vein on his neck was throbbing.

"Do you remember the party that Penguin planned after the win against the marines a few months ago?" He quired in a low but shaky voice.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips puckering as you shook your head. "Not much, Captain. Shachi got me really drunk and he must have put me to bed since I woke up in my room." You replied while crossing your arms under your chest.

Law inhaled deeply before swallowing thickly. "Well, you see-" He wheezed and scratched at his ebony-hued hair below his thick-billed hat.

He struggled to get the words out and his reluctance made the uneasiness grow. "You know what I'm just going to say it. That night we both were really drunk and we f*cked. I thought you would remember but I guess the liquor genuinely disarrayed with your memories."

Your mouth hung agape from his words as you attempted to make sense of his words. You endeavored to put the piece together, memories, but they only struck you like flashes of images that pushed your head to throb.

Embarrassment and mortification were coursing your veins. That night you had thrown yourself to him in a weakened state and acted like a harlot.

"Why are you..." The words clung to the inside of your throat. "...telling me this?"

He shifted his molten golden gaze away from yours and obscured his tattooed hands in the pocket of his blue jeans.

"The reason you've been sick and not getting any better is because...you're pregnant."

Your (e/c) optics widened, your crossed arms unfolding as you puffed out a laugh of disbelief. "Captain don't joke with me!" You blubbered and slowly stood to your feet. "If I've done something wrong, you can tell me, not pull this sick joke-"

The surgeon of death finally turned his gaze to meet yours and shook his head. "I wouldn't joke about something serious like this. You're pregnant with my child because of that night."

You felt like crying, the news overwhelming. So many emotions bombarded your system as you began to hyperventilate.

"(Y/n)-ya, I-" He never had the chance to finish his sentence as your fist came flying forward and connected with his face sharply.

He was barely able to let out a gasp whilst his back connected with his desk. The force left him dazed, his thoughts and deliberations jumbled.

Blood dribbled from his broken nose, already beginning to bruise and discolor. His hat flew off and landed in front of your feet.

The inner corner of your eyes burned as the conjunctiva glazed over with salty tears. You couldn't bear to be in his presence anymore, so you pivoted on the balls of your feet and stomped away to your room.

Law could be heard tripping over his own feet as he scrambled after you. "Wait, listen (Y/n)-ya but-"

"No!" You interjected and increased your speed. You felt so ashamed for acting the way you did, and it made sense why it felt like the Captain was more distant from you than before.

You've tainted your image and now left yourself incapacitated carrying his child in your womb.

Not only that, but he kept silent about what transpired that night, leaving you in the dark to question why everything ached until now.

He was scared of how you would react and he should be. Why did he stay silent!? Was he shaming you every time your back was turned?

The embarrassment morphed into a fury that coursed through your blood and enraged every nerve.

Your captain grasped your wrist, which only prompted your hand to snap forward and slap him across the face.

It's force yielding his hold to release enough for you to scamper ahead and enter your private chamber.

You sealed it immediately and slid it down the cool surface.

"I understand how you are feeling about this, but we need to discuss some things," Law stated from the other side, but you stayed silent, untrusting of your own voice.

Not one of you said anything as dread filled the air and situated its weight on both of your shoulders.

He sighed audibly and knocked lightly on your door. "I know you don't want to talk so can you just hear me out?"

You didn't reply again, letting the silence answer for you.

"Okay." He mumbled and lowered himself so he also sat against your sealed door. "I just want to say...don't blame yourself. It was all my fault, I shouldn't have given in to my desires but I'm a weak man for you. We both were drunk, but I was the soberer one out of the both of us."

You sniffed on the other end, concealing your face in the space between your bent legs.

"I-" He huffed and groaned aloud. Law struggled to speak and convey his emotions properly as well as give you a suitable response.

"I was afraid to tell you the next day. I thought you would assume that I took advantage of you and I guess in a way I did...In no way do I think any differently of you, I think of you and your efforts highly, and your presence on the Polar Tang has been...captivating."

You could hear him shuffling on the other end as he stood to his feet. "Listen, I respect you. I know that staying silent about that night doesn't imply it, but I do. I'm going to leave you alone until you're ready to talk. Even if all you want to do is yell at me."

The captain patted your door lightly as you listened to his footsteps fading.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You didn't speak to him for weeks, you couldn't bear to look at him in the face. Even with his words, you still felt shame and humiliation.

Not only that, but it was taking time to accept that your body was no longer just yours. You now shared it with a little helpless creature.

The thought made your stomach churn. You were reckless, a magnet for danger and fights. You thrived off of every strike you would make and relished in your victories.

Harsh movements and impetuousness could lead to problems with yourself and the baby, Law informed you that he believed you were going to have a fragile pregnancy through the door, but you still didn't reply.

He did his best to support you as much as he could. He made you food that was easy on your tummy and prescribed you medicine and vitamins to take.

Every morning, he checked up on you through the door. All he requested was a knock so he knew you were okay.

The captain patiently waited until you were ready to speak with him, never making it seem as if he was rushing you.

You had wondered if he really cared about you or was it all about his child?

It was always hard to believe if people were there for you, it was so easy to be fake and deceitful.

Before the Captain would retire to his bedroom he would once again check in on you and ask if there was anything you needed.

Obviously, he already was well aware of your insomnia so he always set a hot sweet drink out for you with some pastry. Sometimes he would even rest against your door and ask for a knock if you would like to hear a story.

At first, they were myths and tales from all across the blue sea. Eventually, they began to slowly shift into stories of his childhood.

He was vague at first, but decided it wasn't worth keeping out any details, he wanted you to know it all.

Ultimately it was time to stop at the nearest island to stock up on supplies. Without you executing your duties as the chef, it led to inconsistency in the food, as some of the heart pirates wasted ingredients in their attempt to cook.

The crew was running low on other stores and wares so it was a much-needed respite. Law informed you of the Heart Pirates' plan to restock and made sure to leave you some vitamins before departing.

It was stuffy, staring at the same bland walls over and over again, so you decided to leave the Polar Tang for some fresh air.

Your tummy had begun to grow now and visibly pooched outwards. You hid it beneath an oversized (f/c) sweatshirt, the Heart Pirates Jolly Roger hidden inside the hood of the top.

When you finally exited the submarine, the reinvigorated air was greedily devoured by your lungs. The island was moderately big, the city by the sea full of malls and attractions.

You needed to shop for new attire; the ones you owned just didn't fit as they used to since you had healthily gained weight to support the growing baby.

It felt all too surreal shopping, trying on apparel that needed to cover your stomach. You would have never seen yourself in this situation, pregnancy seemed like a point that you would never plot on.

Traveling back to the Polar Tang, you considered how you needed to stop hiding from Law and finally talk to him.

Whoever's fault it was it's whatever now, it doesn't matter anymore. The two of you needed to have a discussion before it was too late.

"Hey, give that back!"

Your gaze unconsciously shifted to a bout of clamorous noise. Three children argued with a couple of adults who taunted them with a coin bag.

You pursed your lips at the sight, it wasn't anything new. With the economy the way it existed everyone fought tooth and nail for something.

Turning away to trek back to the submarine, you continued down the street until you heard the children cry out and gasp.

Your gaze flung back only to see one of the men with his foot pressing into the oldest kid's face on the stony path.

The tears, the fear, all of it was like a memory replaying back over.

"Hey. Hey!"

You rushed forward and pressed your right foot firmly into the ground, your other leg flying into the adult's neck.

He tumbled to the ground, eyes revealing the whites as he lay unconscious. The two other children - little blond twins - picked up the older blond and hid behind your frame.

The other adult stepped back with hands in the air as he awkwardly laughed aloud. "Come on, pretty lady. We mean no harm." Your eyes narrowed at the epithet. "These little brats stole from us is all."

You glanced down at the children who aggressively shook their heads no and sniffled.

"Welp, that's the answer." You declared and removed the whip from its strap on your back underneath the sweatshirt.

Before the man could speak, you flicked your wrist and its sharpened leather strings snapped across his face, immediately striking the man unconscious as well.

Blowing air out of your nose like an animal, you placed the whip back under your shirt. "Small fry," you mumbled, and began your descent back to the submarine.

However, a tug on your top stopped you. Glancing down, the little girl waved her hand for you to lean down, and so you did.

Once your face was in front of hers, she kissed your nose and patted your cheeks. "Thank you!" She and her siblings cheered before fleeing the area, and returned home, you assumed.

Your skin felt warm where she kissed, and for once you found a little brat not as annoying as usual.

"(Y/n)-ya!"

You flinched from that voice as footsteps neared your frame. Law and Ikkaku appeared, and the man observed your frame as if he were inspecting it for any injuries.

He appeared relieved until he glimpsed down at the two thugs, and you noticed his jaw was clenched. "What are you doing fighting!? You know you have a fragile pregnancy and even if you didn't it's not safe!"

You recoiled back from his outburst and crossed your arms under your chest. "Captain, I'm fine. I can handle myself, they were nothing."

"So!?" He sought and grasped your shoulder firmly. "What if they weren't!? What if you miscalculated!? This is why I said you need to stay in the Polar Tang!"

His tone was aggressive; you knew it was because he cared about the baby, but you weren't a minor who needed to be reprimanded.

"Well, I didn't!" You snapped. "And I'm not some child that you can tell what to do. It's not fair that I have to be treated like a burden. I'm my own woman and before I am anything else I am also a pirate!"

Law was taken aback by your statement. His molten golden eyes widened as you shook your head and slapped his hand off your body.

"I never wanted to be a mother in the first place, so don't berate me like I intentionally wanted to get hurt. You only care because it's your baby, I have, but this is also my body, and whatever I say should go."

His mouth widened to speak, but you were already speeding away, which was rather swift for a pregnant woman, too.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

There seemed to be a rift between the two of you now. He no longer checked up on you anymore and sent for one of the crewmates to ask or deliver your medicine.

Law no longer spent his nights telling you stories and it was beginning to feel...lonely. You never felt that before but that was before you were receiving his undivided attention.

Maybe some of the things you said were out of line, but were you speaking the truth? Law only cares about his child, which is why he was worried about you, right?

You knew that there was no relationship between the two of you other than just captain and crewmate, but it still stung the slightest.

This is why you never let anyone get close. One day they'll all just leave. One day they'll realize you aren't worth it.

You'd rather shut yourself out to save yourself the heartache than go through the rawness of losing someone you let in again.

A knock at the door disrupted you from your melancholic thoughts. "(Y/n), I brought you some lunch. The captain said you should be able to ingest much heavier food now." The only other woman on the Polar Tang called out.

You scowled at the mention of the captain and shifted to face the wall. "I'm not hungry." You told her.

She exhaled aloud and knocked again. "It doesn't matter if you're not hungry; you need to eat. Skipping meals is unhealthy; you're the one who told us that every mealtime."

"I don't care."

The woman groaned and clicked her tongue. "I know you're still upset about what the captain said on the island, but it was because he cares."

Inhaling deeply, you pushed yourself up to your swollen ankles and unsealed your door to face the woman.

"He cares about the child. I'm just the f*cking baby incubator."

The curly, dark-haired woman shook her head and entered your room with the tray holding your dinner. "I love being the one to tell you that you're wrong," she replied as you shut your door again.

You raised an eyebrow as she set the tray on your desk and took a seat on your chair. "He likes to ask about you." She stated, her tone less brash. "He wants to know everything about you. You're favorite books, color, even a favorite flavor of candy so he can make your medicine less bitter."

Your lips pursed curtly as you refrained from speaking and set yourself on your bed in the corner.

"The captain invariably appears anxious when he's away from you and always eager to meet you here and talk to you through the door."

Staying silent, you hugged a pillow to your chest and kept your gaze down on the floor.

"You know a guy doesn't act like that if he is only worried about his child. I can confidently say that he really cares about you, not just as a captain would his crewmate, but a man to a woman he likes."

Your stomach churned at her words whilst the guilt manifested its place in your heart. You weren't the type of person who could just take whatever someone said as truth.

But maybe Law's behavior —taking care of you and never once pushing you to speak to him—meant something.

Ikkaku blew air out of her nose and stood to her feet, smoothing out her tan boiler suit. "The captain said we'll be stopping at another island in a few minutes. Said the Straw Hat Pirates needed to speak to him." She mumbled under her breath before striding closer to your frame.

The brunette patted your shoulder and gave you a reassuring smile. "Take what you want from what I told you, but I just don't want to see you sad anymore. Uni, Clione, and I are going to remain on the ship if you need anything."

You nodded your head in acknowledgment as the woman left your room quietly. Alone once again, you thought about her words carefully.

It all made your head dizzy. The stuffy air in your sealed room was beginning to make you sick. Some fresh air would be nice and Ikkaku usually hung around on the deck when the submarine was stationed.

Standing up on your swollen ankles, you put on your shoes and wrapped your arms in a thick coat before exiting.

Opening the door, you did not expect to meet with a notoriously well-aged Vice Admiral.

"Smoker!"

He grinned at you, puffing grey smoke into your face as everything quickly became consumed in darkness.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Liquid dripping melodically on a stone floor awoke you from your slumber. You stirred, groaning from the throbbing in your head whilst you carefully sat up.

A comforter of some sort fell from your shoulders and allowed for a frigid cool chill to run through your clothes.

Frantically searching around, you observed your situation, and when you realized where you were, your stomach dropped.

Cold dark sea stone surrounded your frame with gigantic sea stone bars caging you. Your right ankle was clasped by the same nullifying rock that led to the wall behind you.

You were in Impel Down Level 6: Eternal Hell.

Dread took over your limbs, the weakness that the sea stone created was nowhere near the trepidation that took over.

"Took you long enough, brat."

Your head flicked towards the cage bars where the voice echoed from, the darkness obscuring the person's figure only for a moment as rays shone in lightly.

"Smoker." You seethed, nails digging into the stone floor as the male squatted slowly before taking a seat in front of you.

He puffed out grey smoke that drifted around your face. You inhaled some by accident but immediately swatted it out and held your breath.

"You wanna f*cking die, punk!"

Smoker snorted and swept his tongue over his bottom lip. He leaned one hand on the ground, his large thick white and blue specialist marine jacket stretching from his movement.

Your (e/c) optics narrowed at the man, the anger boiling beneath your skin, but you attempted your best to mediate it.

Blowing over like you usually would do in front of him wouldn't do you any good...or your baby any good.

Breathing in deeply, you centered yourself before changing your attention to the chain around your ankles. "Chaining me up, really? You know I don't use it anymore."

The male snorted once again and inhaled deeply from his duo cigars, the ends smoldering like burning embers. A reminder of how vibrantly alive your captain's optics were, and it made your heart squeeze.

"You know I don't make the rules." He mused, raising his tinted glasses so you could view his umber-hued eyes. "No one gets any special treatment. Not even my sister."

"Half-sister!" You snarled, brows furrowed with your jaw clenching. The man produced no indication of acknowledging your response in a negative manner.

"Sister? Half-sister? All the same, I got them to keep your clothes, give you a little blanket. You always hated the cold."

"Oh, you remember something about me?" You queried, lips pulled into a taunt grin. "I wonder if you remember when you abandoned me in the Grand Line."

Smoker thrust a finger forward and scowled. "I left you with a good family-"

"You left me period!" You screeched and groaned when a sudden twinge of discomfort fluttered up your uterus. A hand flew to your bulging stomach over the blanket, the pads of your fingers digging into your skin.

Clenching your teeth together, you shook your head, shielding your face from his gaze. "Punk... I idolized you." You stressed.

The inner corner of your eyes stung, glazing over but you refused to let them flow. "You were my big brother, my only family. I wanted to be like you, I wanted to make you proud."

You could hear Smoker audibly swallow. "(Y/n)-"

"No!" You snapped, your face shooting in the direction of the older man which immediately was followed by a silent hiss.

Your hold on your stomach tightened as you inhaled a few sharp breaths before steadying it. "The least you could do is listen to me for once in your pathetic life."

Smoker rolled his eyes. "My life is not pathetic-"

And you interrupted again with a fury of a scorned woman. "Giving up your last blood relative because you didn't want to deal with them makes your life pathetic. Never checking in, calling, no nothing makes your life pathetic."

You scooted closer to the sea stone bars, your leg tugging on the weighty chains as you brought your face directly in front of the rods.

"You left me with a family whose son touched me - forced himself on me - and when I told his parents they called me a liar. It wasn't until I got older, did that same man who told you that he was going to take care of me did the same thing as his son. Now that...that makes you pathetic."

Your half-brother didn't respond, his lips agape but no sound came from within his throat. His scar stretched across the right side of his face and appeared to be in deep thought.

"Yeah." You laughed in your throat and shook your head slowly. "Bet you didn't know that, huh?"

Smoker quickly looked away and removed eye contact. He grasped the two cigars in his mouth and outed them on the stone floor.

"We...We need to talk about this." He rasped, his voice becoming gravelly.

You glanced around past your cell at the other Impel Down inmates who stared at you, obviously intrigued by the shouting.

This was presumably the most entertainment they've received since being here. But you didn't care, you'll let them have their show.

"Why? Why now? You wanna hear about how I cried every night for you to come to pick me up and rescue me from that h*ll hole? How I held onto hope that my brother didn't just abandon me because I was nothing?"

You grasped the bars with your hand and clutched onto them as if you were applying all your anger on the rods.

"I just wanted my big brother back, to save me. I wanted the boy who had always been my hero to hold me in his arms and tell me that everything was alright."

The glossy tears that covered your conjunctiva began to pursue their way down your face, but you made no acknowledgment of it. Instead, you maintained eye contact with your half-brother.

"I wanted to be told that I had never asked for those filthy men to touch me like that. That I wasn't a disgusting nobody that no one would ever want, that I mattered-"

You sucked in a breath to hold back a sob of raw pain. "-but you never did."

It was silent as the two of you stared at each other, unmoving.

He once again opened his mouth to speak, but all that left was a silent wheeze.

"Dang, Smoker. You're worse than a pirate for that." An inmate called from deep with Level 6.

The white-haired male grasped his jitte and shot a look at the criminal. "Your execution date just got pushed back, pall. Little Sadi is gonna have some fun with you." He retorted and you could hear an audible gulp.

You scoffed at the man in front of you and reached down for your stomach, which was hidden under your sweatshirt.

There felt to be little to no energy left inside of you. Maybe due to all the sea stones around you or perhaps because you finally conveyed some of the issues of your chest?

"What do you want from me?" You asked under your breath. "Why after 10 years of abandoning me, did you capture me now of all times?"

Smoker removed his hold from the weapon and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "There was a rumor going around that you were pregnant-" His umber orbs flickered to your bulging stomach before situating itself on the ground in front of him. "-and I see that it was right."

"So what?" You snapped. "Suddenly you care about my well-being?"

"I've always cared!" He barked, the volume of his tone loud and assertive. "I always kept track of where you were, I always asked for updates about you. I knew when you ran away and even came looking for you to bring you into the Marines but that damn pirate got you first."

The male huffed and shook his head of white hair. "I wanted you here with me; you could have been so great."

"But I'm a disappointment because I allied with people who actually cared about me, right?" You sought.

Smoker pounded a fist on the sea stone bars, which permitted you to recoil away from the barrier. "They are not your blood! They don't know what's best for you."

"And you do?"

He stayed silent.

You swallowed strenuously and inhaled a shaky breath. He never scared you, no one ever scared you, but at the moment, all you could do was feel terrified.

"I'm going to ask you again, punk. What do you want from me? Why arrest me now?"

With sluggish movements, Smoker removed his fist from the rods and set them on his lap.

"I can pull some strings to get you working under me in the Marines but you have to get rid of that thing."

Your (e/c)'s optics bulged from their sockets.

"I can't let you bring that Worst Generation's offspring into this world, not that criminals kid. I wanted you to see the errors of your ways, aligning with those who forsake the laws. You wanted to be a criminal so I was going to let you learn your lesson but now it seems I have to intervene."

You could not believe the words that were uttered from his mouth. The absolute audacity was appalling and it left you staring at him as if he had sprouted two heads.

"A-Are you kidding me!? You have no f*cking right to tell me what I can and can't do! It's my body and it's my choice whether I keep it, whether I stay a pirate! You have no say at all! You lost any right when you left me!"

Your stomach cramped, your hips jerking as you enwrapped your tummy with your arms.

"As your brother, I have every right. I'm your only family and you're making a mistake."

Shaking your head, you held back a laugh of disbelief. "The only mistake I made was loving you with every fiber in my body and praying that one day you would come back. But I don't need to be some hanky panky petty officer to see that you are no hero. You're just a selfish phony that wanted to be all big and powerful because of your stupid pride!"

You heaved yourself to your feet and wobbled away into a corner out of his sight. "I'm done with you, Smoker. Leave me alone just like you did before."

"(Y/n)." He expressed your name with such strain in his voice but you ignored it. "This is your last chance that I can offer. Give me the opportunity to be the brother I should have been or...or I'll have no choice but let you be executed."

"Agree to kill the baby in my womb and become one of your subordinates so that you can abandon me when it is most convenient or let myself be killed?" You enunciated with fake enthusiasm. "I'm definitely going to take up your offer and get executed!"

Smoker didn't reply, no words or sound bouncing back in response to your mockery. It stayed in this uncomfortable silence for what felt like too long until he finally broke it.

"Use the blanket, brat. It'll get colder down here." He expressed under his breath before knocking on your sea stone bars. "I wish that this wasn't your choice. You're still my sister, I still hold love for you and always will. Remember that."

"Yeah, I'll remember it when I'm getting my neck sliced through."

Your brother sighed audibly before pivoting on the balls of his feet and distancing himself from your cage.

Melancholic silence took over in Level 6. Not one person spoke or even so much as coughed. The fury that once spewed through your veins diminished and endowed you with nothing but a gaping hole in your heart.

You have thought before that if you ever got the chance to confront Smoker about the abandonment, you would feel as if a weight was lifted off your chest.

But in reality, it just made it heavier. You don't know what hurt more. The fact that he still cares about you or the fact that Smoker would once again put his pride above all else.

A sob rose from your chest, your eyes burning once again as a wail ripped through your throat. You attempted to keep it silent, only wheezing and huffing, but with how noiseless the floor was, you were sure the others heard.

It was embarrassing.

"Hey, Lady."

Your gaze flew from the ground to your cage door. It was the voice that called out Smoker earlier.

"Don't cry over that b*stard, he ain't worth it. There's not much we can do but-" He stuck out his elongated arms and in his hands was a couple of fading cedar-hued blankets. "-It does get really cold down here."

You didn't know if you wanted to cry or laugh, all your emotions were still pretty raw. With attentive movements, you stood to your feet and trekked over to the bars, your chain dragging laboriously behind you.

Gingerly you grasped the coverings and ran your fingers along the soft surface. "What about you guys?"

The men in the cell next to you clicked their tongues. "We got thick skin." One declared. "You needed it more than us." Another expressed.

You bit back a smile and bowed even though you knew they couldn't see. "Thank you."

"Anything for a bada** lady like yourself."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Even though you refused your half-brother's offer, he still made sure you were being fed more than those in Eternal Hell would be.

Your portions were larger, water cleaner, and even a doctor was brought down to check on how you were doing, not once for the baby growing in your stomach.

You asked him why all of it mattered if you and the child were just going to die anyway and Smoker always replied with the same two sentences.

The same thing repeatedly.

"I'm still your brother, I made you suffer as much as it is." and "Just because you're going to die doesn't mean I don't care about you right now."

How sweet.

Finally giving a sh*t when it didn't even matter anymore.

You don't know how long you've been encased in Impel Down. It could be days, but the steady growth of your stomach suggests at least a few weeks.

The child's due date was nearing, give or take a few more months. Smoker guaranteed that both of you would be executed long before that would happen.

You could only pray that every time the Impel Down staff came down it was to execute you finally.

Get it done now instead of wasting your time.

Although, you seemed to pass some of it by conversing with the other convicts. They were crude, blunt, and unmannered, but that's what you like about them.

Easily the criminals reminded you of the Heart Pirates and you couldn't help but miss them dearly. You had your heart locked down ever since the trauma of your childhood, but it seems like the crew slithered their way in.

Especially the captain. You were beginning to realize your feelings towards the surgeon of death, but now it appears to have been for nothing.

You have to admit, though, that you miss the rowdy bunch. You miss being on the Polar Tang and observing the marine life through your glass window.

Perhaps you even admit to missing the overbearing worry of your baby's father.

But maybe it was for the best this way. Unlike what transpired with your brother and being the one hurt, you can save yourself from the heartache this time.

Your teeth chattered as you tightened the blankets around your frame in the corner of your cell. Your stomach churned and cramped uncomfortably. Even with the comforters provided by your neighboring criminals and Smoker, all the sea stones had sucked any strength you had.

It left you a weakened shell of what you used to be. The rest of your strength and energy went to the child, who was surprisingly inactive most of the time.

There was worry, fear that something was wrong, but what could you? Smoker didn't give a sh*t about it anyway and the two of you were going to be killed soon.

Better get it over with now.

"You okay over there, munchkin?"

You laughed weakly at your cell neighbor and closed your eyes. "Yeah, just a little sickly." You replied.

One of the prisoners bellowed with laughter. "You're lucky they never placed you in Level 5. You would be living in agony."

"Oh, I'm sure." You murmured.

Impel Down Level 5: Freezing Hell

You would have been begging for death sooner if they placed you on that floor.

Another cramp in your womb made you inhale a shaky breath, whimpering the slightest.

"Listen, munchkin." His voice had you perked up the slightest and zone out all other noise. "I overheard some things that the warden was saying to the staff."

"Yeah?" You asked, grinning. "Are we getting pudding for dinner tomorrow?"

He hummed, almost saddened. "Your execution is scheduled for tomorrow evening."

The smile fell from your lips, your face slackening for a moment. "Oh." It was barely audible.

You've been waiting for this, mentally preparing yourself for your execution. It still stung the slightest but you were ready.

You've been ready ever since your big brother abandoned you.

"About time." You crooned, a hand unconsciously stroking your tummy. "My back has been aching~."

Your neighbors laughed at your response for a moment until it became silent again—only the dragging of heavy sea stone chains and breathing permeated in the air.

"Get some rest, munchkin. If you need anything, well you know just scream I guess." Someone mused, yielding you to shake your head and chuckle aloud.

"Goodnight."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Bang!

Your (e/c) optics snapped open, your heart palpating as the booming echo reverberated all around the floor Level 6.

Darkness, the deep gloaming was all you could see for a moment before the ordinarily dark blue tint took over.

Sitting up gradually, your stomach cramped and throbbed as the banging grew louder. Inhaling shaky breaths, you were still drowsy and unable to focus.

It wasn't until a set of hands grasped your arms that you were able to concentrate. The warmth of another was foreign as you looked up slowly and met the same molten golden gaze that made your tummy tingle.

"Captain...?"

It had to be a dream as you stared at his face, memorizing the firmness of his cheeks, the sharpness of his jaw, the little frays of hair from his goatee and sideburns.

"(Y/n)." He expressed your name as if he too couldn't believe you were in front of him

You didn't expect him to pull your body into his abruptly. One of his arms snaked around your shoulders while he hid his face in the crook of your neck. His other hand grasped the back of your head and pressed you into him.

His scent wafted into your nose, the familiar fragrance that your lungs greedily devoured. You wouldn't have believed that he was here if it wasn't for his firm grip.

Hastily he pulled back as if coming to his senses and began examining your limbs for any injuries.

"The baby is okay, I think." You murmured.

Law shot his gaze back up to meet yours and furrowed his brows. "I'm worried about you, (Y/n)! You come first before anything else!" He stated causing you to recoil back.

His statement made your mind hazy, influencing your emotions that grew stronger. "How did you get-

"Your brother helped. Now, come on. Let's get you out of here so you can come home." He declared while letting you go and using Nodachi Kikoku to break your sea stone chains in half.

"How do you know-" You've never told anyone about your past, or how you were related to the Vice Admiral.

"No time!" He responded.

Your eyes barely had the strength to remain open, fluttering as you watched him virtually in slow motion pick your body up and depart from your cell.

You hope this wasn't a dream, that when you open your eyes again it's not the cold lonely cell in Impel Down anymore.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

It beeped, and light mechanical whirring filled your ears. The noise stirred you awake, and the air around you was so much cleaner.

Your lungs inhaled sharply and opened your eyes to luminous rays. It burned as your vision focused.

And the sight warmed your heart. Thankfully, you were in Law's office in the Polar Tang.

You were back, you were home.

The inner corner of your eyes stung, a sudden wave of assurance coursing through your head. You wanted to cry and when that familiar warmth touched your face, they began to flow.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," Law murmured next to your frame on the medical bed.

"It's okay." You wheezed under your breath, still weak and frail from your imprisonment.

The man sucked in a breath before he carefully lifted your torso and pulled you into a firm hug. His lips were by your ear, and you could hear a faint voice: "I'm glad I got my family back."

You froze in your spot, his words striking you like a ship crashing into a rock. The realization had slapped you harshly as you pursed your lips tightly together.

All this time you thought your only family was Smoker, the one who abandoned you, and because of it you were too afraid to let anyone else in.

But it wasn't like that anymore.

You had family, people that really cared about you. The Heart Pirates were here for you and most importantly Law...as well as the baby in your womb.

Suddenly remembering the significance of your situation, you pulled away from his hug and looked down at your stomach.

"How's the baby!? Are they-

"They're fine." He interjected and held your face in his calloused palms. His thumb caressed your cheek carefully as he leaned down.

His nose brushed against yours briefly before he slowly connected. His lips were cool compared to his hands but the contrast felt pleasant.

Your lips moved hesitantly at first but for once, you let yourself open up the strong desires of your heart.

He kissed you with the passion of a man in love.

One of his hands traveled to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you closer to him. His other hand held the back of your neck, his fingers playing along the strands of your hair.

You wanted to keep going, to keep tasting the dried plums on his lips, but both of you needed air. Law pulled back reluctantly and rested his forehead against yours.

His molten golden optics were hidden behind his lids as he attempted to collect his breathing. "I've been wanting to do that for so long but I needed to wait."

You hummed to yourself, pulling away and removing his hands so you could hold them. "I'm glad you waited because..."

The two of you met each other's gaze as you smiled. A genuine smile that made his heart flutter. "I'm not afraid to let you in anymore, Law."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @yuri0

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꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 signing out

See ya later, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐬!

#x reader #x y/n #oneshot #anime oneshot #anime one piece #anime and manga #anime x reader #anime x y/n #one piece #law one piece #law x reader #law x y/n #law x you #pregnancy #pregnantreader #smoker #one piece smoker #impel down #baby daddy

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tawfu · 2 years ago

Note

What about….

Childe who is obsessed with your smell. Wether that’s your perfume, deodorant, or your natural body odor. He would for example steal your perfume and pleasure himself to the smell of it. To the smell of you

a/n: I’ve been riding this train for as long as I’ve known Childe. I just feel like he fits perfectly into the filthy, obsessive masochistic loser trope... So I obviously got carried away writing this.

It’s one of Childe’s favorite not-so-guilty pleasures. He goes out of his way to follow you around town stealthily, writing down the items you buy from each store you visit.

He decides to go on his own special trip afterwards, focusing specifically on items that can replicate your presence, such as clothes, shampoos and body sprays.

There’s nothing wrong with admiring a friend in this way, he tries to convince himself. Nothing’s weird about… spraying your perfume or cologne on a shirt that looks just like yours.

And what’s so wrong about placing them on his pillow and sniffing them while he ruts his bare cock on his bed?

Childe likes to imagine he’s laying on your chest, humping the soft flesh of your thighs as you run your perfect fingers along his hair. He shuts his eyes tightly as he moans into the cloth, inhaling it like it’s his last source of oxygen as he thinks about how you’d degrade him with a teasing voice so seductive he could cum from it alone.

“Does my pathetic little pup feel good?” you’d ask, and he’d whine into his gag, nodding frantically as his teary eyes would look into your own.

Would you force him to stop just as he’s tapering over the edge? Perhaps you’d let him cum at first, only to command him to continue fucking into your plush thighs until he couldn’t think anymore… Fuck, it’s all too much for him to think about.

He loves letting his mind wander like this, mumbling self-degrading words into thin air as a reminder of just how much of a loser he is, all while he’s emptying his balls onto his bed, adding to the filthy cum stains already on it.

Now... What if Childe was your partner? Well, he would go crazy.

Convincing you to live with him wouldn’t be too hard, not when he has the funds to provide for the both of you. However, try as he might, he’s unable to keep his perversion undercover.

The thrill of having access to your laundry was like no other. No longer would he have to make do with those stupid items he went out of his way to acquire. He had your things, right in front of him! This wasn’t even comparable to the battles he’s fought in his lifetime.

The first time it happened, he waited for you to leave the house, before sprinting to the bathroom. There was not an ounce of shame to be found in his body, not when he was filled to the brim with adrenaline. He got on his knees and began to dig through your used laundry, finding the one thing he’d dreamt about for months; your underwear.

How long did you wear them for? What did you do while wearing them? Did you pleasure yourself in these? Fight with him? God, it doesn’t even matter, because the first whiff alone would make his eyes roll back into his skull, pants already too tight for comfort.

His desperation would only increase with time. Your underwear and shirts would slowly disappear from the pile of laundry, the reason, unbeknownst to you, being that he just couldn’t get enough of them.

Scurrying into the bedroom and leaving those precious items when you came home didn’t cut it anymore. Childe would start to bring them into his room, pulling all nighters just to abuse his poor cock, filling your underwear with load after load and drooling at the combination of scents.

Catching him was inevitable, but perhaps… it was what he wished for. Maybe the excruciating spanks you delivered to his bare ass as you gagged him with the underwear he came into was something he had already been dreaming of. It was supposed to be his punishment, but his worship for you only increased tenfold.

After a while, his perversion would grow on you. It was a little entertaining, to watch just how low he’d stoop for you, just how far his obsession went.

Childe promised that he would do anything if you indulged him. He’d be a slave to your word, a most devoted boyfriend to his perfect partner, and with that, you developed a new-found enjoyment in his filthy fantasies.

Your smell was his salvation. There was nothing more perfect than the musky body odor adorning you after a long workout, and nothing more pleasurable to Childe than taking in each and every ounce of you in that state.

The smell of your armpits, the delicious sweat on your body, and more importantly, your taste… It was nothing short of pure heaven.

His mouth craved nothing more than to clean each crevice, and to make sure that your cum was added to the beautiful mess Childe loved oh so much.

Wearing your underwear for multiple days in a row became a habit, all for the sake of watching Childe sniff them so pathetically, so desperately from the source, as his cock lay snug between your feet, rutting into the makeshift hole like a dog in heat.

For a harbinger, he didn’t have a lot of pride when it came to you, but why would he? The reality was that no matter what title accompanied him, in the end, he was nothing but your dog.

#i lowkey relate to childe in this #dom reader #sub character #sub childe #gn reader #genshin smut #sub tartaglia #dom!reader #sub genshin impact #genshin impact

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erodasfishtacos · 2 years ago

Text

Picked The Right One

prompt: ceorry first vs most recent time

word count: 8.5k+

warnings: teeth rotting fluff, smut

AN: hiiii. Long time! I’m not posting on here anymore really but I wanted to post a one shot to show my appreciation for my fans who can’t subscribe to my patreon.

I post 4-5 8k+ fics a month for $3USD

Love youuuuu isla x

YN had never ever pictured herself where she is currently at right now.

Because currently, she was trying to pick between two different dresses as she went on her fifth date with a billionaire.

It sounded comical even in her head.

YN never really imagined who she would end up with but she had been through a handful of duds and thought that might set the precedent for the rest of her life.

Up until Harry, she barely even made it past a date with someone before she’s calling it off because she can’t see herself with the person.

The last time YN went out on a date, the man ‘forgot’ his wallet after ordering three imported beers that cost YN nearly half of a paycheck.

Their dates had been going well, YN felt less and less nervous every time that she saw Harry but she still felt the need to impress him.

She shouldn’t have googled his dating history even though it doesn’t confirm anything from his past - he has always been secretive and private about his personal life.

However, there are some paparazzi shots of him leaving exclusive night clubs with pretty, modelesque girls in the background behind him.

And thousands of gossip blogs who loved to predict who he was sleeping with and who he was in a relationship with.

He had disclosed to YN that he has only had one serious relationship that ended horribly when he was just beginning his career which would have been years ago.

YN’s still in her bathrobe, Harry’s coming to pick her up any moment, and she’s wondering how nice the bra and underwear set she picked out needs to be.

Tonight was the first time Harry was taking her to his house or from what she saw on google - his 23.3 million pound estate.

YN had been surprised that he hadn’t been pushy like other dates who tried to get in her pants.

The sexual tension has definitely been building but Harry hadn’t made any move to do anything about it.

He hadn’t asked her back to his house after any of the five dates but their kisses had been getting longer and steamier.

Particularly after the last one.

Harry always parked his car and walked her up to her apartment door, she appreciated that he tried to not crinkle his nose at that mildew odor or how run down the interior of the building is.

When they get to her burnt orange door, YN unlocks it and turns back around to him as he watches her with a small smile.

“Do you want to come in?” YN offers even though she knows that he’ll decline, she’s always hopeful.

“I want to but I shouldn’t. Let me be a gentleman,” Harry simpers softly, his voice deep and accent thick, his hands come up to cup her jaw, “But I am going to steal a kiss.”

“Please,” YN agrees with excitement pumping through her veins, he leans down to connect their lips and he’s such a good kisser.

As soon as their lips connect, YN has to swallow down a moan because even though it’s just a kiss - she’s never been more turned on in her life.

She parts her lips when he swipes his tongue across them, pushing inside once she opens up, and stroking her tongue with his.

His body is pressed up into hers, cornering her more against the door and YN’s lets the smallest whimper slip.

She’s about to be embarrassed but Harry growls at the noise and breaks a part for the moment, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

YN can’t even blink before his mouth is back on hers, holding her jaw a bit firmer, and biting at her bottom lip.

She had never physically felt herself getting wet until right now when she actually cold feel it start to coat her folds.

“Shame on you,” A scratchy voice hisses from behind them, making them split apart quickly, and they look back to see YN’s neighbor.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jameson,” YN waves her hand as the woman glares at her, shaking her head before disappearing into the apartment across from them.

Harry’s thumb comes up to pull at her swollen bottom lip, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

YN’s never been so bold as now when she leans back up to kiss him again, “Please, come in?”

Harry entertains one more long kiss before he’s breaking them apart and taking a step back, “Let me do this right, pet. I’m going to make it special.”

“You do this with all your dates?” YN jokes lamely because she just can‘t imagine that she’s the first girl he’s done this with.

Harry’s smile falters a bit but he recovers quickly, his thumb now brushing over her cheekbone.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to say,” He chuckles as his eyes dart to the side in nervousness, “I haven’t been this much of a gentleman in the past is all I will say.”

“Why is it different for me? I’m not anything special,” She replies because she doesn’t think she’s nearly anything compared to the other beautiful women he’s had on his life.

“Hey,” His voice is firmer and offended by her comments, his green eyes serious and honeyed when he looks at her, “You’re the most special person I’ve ever met.”

YN startles when she hears a knock at her front door, glancing over to the clock, and Harry is exactly on time for their date.

She’s still staring at her lingerie sets when the noise echos through her apartment, her hair and makeup was at least done but she was still only in a towel.

After the second knock comes, YN’s cursing as she rushes to the door, swinging it open, and Harry’s in the hallways looking like he just walked off the set of a photoshoot in a perfect fitting suit and styled hair.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks her up and down, “I’m not going to complain if this is all you want to wear tonight. Much easier to take it off of you.”

Oh, they were definitely fucking.

YN moves aside to let him in, he ducks down to kiss her cheek before sitting on the edge of her sofa.

“I just need like two more minutes,” She tells quickly, why was her heart rate spiking anytime he was around?

“I’ll be here,” Harry replies as his eyes trace around her apartment, picking up a book on her coffee table.

YN takes a deep breath when she’s back in her room, snatching the sexier set off the bed before shimmying a recently purchased black dress overtop.

Harry stands up and straightens his broad shoulders when she comes back into the living room, “Bloody hell. You look like a dream.”

YN’s stomach flips at his seemingly sincere compliment but she can’t control the intrusive comments that follow in her own mind.

You’re not as pretty as that one model he was seen with

You’re not a model

He’s just being nice

“Thank you. You look handsome,” She replies nervously, she hadn’t been this nervous on their last two or three dates but it felt like the first time all over again.

Harry isn’t dumb, he can sense it but he’s kind enough not to call her out on it as they quietly walk to his car.

After slipping in the passenger seat of the exotic car, a new one for every date, and Harry begins to drive off - it almost feels tense for a moment.

Harry’s hand twitches on the wheel, hesitating before asking, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

It makes YN feels guilty that now she’s made Harry nervous enough that he didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach over.

“You don’t have to ask,” YN assures him with more confidence in her voice as his one hand moves from the well to her thigh, his hand was big, making her thick thigh look nearly encompassed, the metal of his rings was cold against her skin.

She wanted to smack herself when she felt the arousal starting to creep in, clenching her thighs together a bit too obviously because Harry smirks to himself but doesn’t make a remark.

“Thi-this is your house?” YN’s eyes widen when they pull through the gates, men dressed in black waving them through before the gate closes quickly behind them.

The pictures on google didn’t do the beauty of the sprawling estate justice.

It was so massive that YN couldn’t imagine just one person living alone in there and it made her a little sad to think about Harry in this near castle all by himself.

Harry gives her a tour of some of the rooms where all YN can do is nod along to what he’s saying, compliment the astounding beauty, and not have any doubt why his house has been mentioned in Architectural Digest so much.

Then he’s leading her to the kitchen where YN takes a seat on a stool while Harry begins pulling out the ingredients to make dinner.

YN cannot stop staring at everything around her - she’s never seen anything close to this and to think that she’s going on date with someone who lives this extravagantly.

The conversation flows easily while Harry moves around the kitchen to prepare the chicken Alfredo, there’s plenty of laughter and quite a few stolen kisses before they sit down for dinner.

Towards the end of the meal, the conversation becomes more serious, and Harry takes a sip of his wine before stating, “None of this impresses you, does it?”

YN’s taken aback by the question, he doesn’t seem angry but he just seems confused as he puts down his fork and knife, “What do you mean?”

Harry shakes his head like he doesn’t know how to get out the words he wants to, “It’s just…the cars, my house, it doesn’t seem like you care. I don’t mean that in a bad way, it just doesn’t seem to be impressing you and I…I don’t really know how to take that.”

“I’ve never brought a date to my home before but still, usually most of the conversation on previous dates has been about my business or my cars or my estates. You haven’t bought any of that up once or made a big deal about it.”

YN can’t read Harry very in this moment, she doesn’t know him well enough, and his face is smooth, calm but just the tiniest furrow in his brow gives away emotion.

“It’s very impressive, the life you’ve built,” YN chooses her words carefully, putting down her glass of wine, “It’s something you should be proud of. I haven’t brought any of those things up because those things aren’t who you are. I’ve been asking you about family, hobbies, likes, dislikes because I care about you as a person, not as a ‘billionaire’ or a ‘public figure.”

Harry’s face distorts a little bit, he almost looks a bit devastated as he looks down at his plate, and he doesn’t say anything which makes YN think she said something wrong.

“I’m sorry, I just…” YN trails off with a sigh.

“Don’t apologize, please. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Harry glances back up with widen eyes, he reaches across the table to put his hand over her, “I’ve just never had someone care about me, I don’t think. At least not for a very long time.”

YN moves her hand away, only to move it atop his and squeezes, “I think it’s lovely that you’ve created a very comfortable and successful life for yourself but I’m falling for you as a person, not the cars or the house.”

And a blinding crooked smile breaks out on Harry’s face, YN loved when his dimples popped out and carved into his cheeks, “Falling for me? Are you falling for me, darling?”

YN’s feel the heat rises up into her cheeks, looking down at the table for a moment but then Harry’s pushing his chair back and standing up - he’s strides over to YN’s chair and helps her out of it, pulling her up and into his chest.

“No need to be embarassed, S’just me,” Harry rumbles as he tucks his finger up her chin and lifts her head so that he can connect their lips softly, YN’s hands coming to rest on his chest.

She giggles though, shaking her head at his words - it makes him pull back and ask, “What’s funny, hm?”

“You say it’s just you,” YN murmurs, their lips are stil brushing against one another’s as they talk, “But that’s the issue, you have me on my toes. I want to impress you, not embarrass myself.”

“M’already impressed,” Harry tells her between little pecks, “Impressed how smart you are, how independent and free-thinking you, by how fuckin’ gorgeous you are. You don’t need to be embarassed if you’re falling f’me because sweetheart, m’pretty much already gone for you. You’re everything that I want.”

“Please,” YN says softly because they basically just confessed their fondness for each other and the dark sweet smell of his cologne was making her dizzy.

She would never consider herself sex hungry until this point, she had always been more than okay waiting a few dates to get intimate but YN had never craved someone else’s body like this.

“Please what, sweet girl,” Harry replies against her lips, he had her pressed up against an oak cabinet that looked to be displaying expensive, hand-painted plates and vases - the pieces shook a bit when her back hit the glass.

A single glass ends up falling off one of the higher shelf’s, shattering behind them, and YN begins to profusely apologizing, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

And Harry’s unconcerned that a five thousand dollar wine glass just shattered as he shushes her quiet, “S’fine. Just want to kiss you,” He mumbles against her lips.

YN presses further into the kiss, her hands moving from his chest up and around his neck as she parts her lips, allowing their tongues to brush as his hands move to her hips - massaging at the plush as his leg sneaks in between hers, making it so she couldn’t clench her thighs together.

“Want to-“ YN gets distracted halfway through her sentence when his hands begin to trail up her sides, up towards her chest but he instead teases his fingers along her rib cage.

“Want to…..?” Harry copies her, he even tastes good like his rich, dry red wine that they had been drinking at dinner.

“Harry,” YN huffs out when he pulls back just an inch, “You know what I mean.”

Harry kisses once more before responding, “Tell me. Do you want me to touch you?”

YN nods eagerly, she wanted so bad to press their hips together to see if he was just as needy as she was but he was purposely not doing that, “Yes.”

“Where do you want my hands or maybe even my mouth?” His voice was unfairly raspy as he teases her with his words, his hands dancing upwards until he finally cups her breasts, “Here? I think you probably have the prettiest nipples I’ve ever seen? You want me to pinch them or suck at them until their puffy and hard?”

Fuck, YN’s never been so turned on in her life.

“I want that,” YN responds tightly as he kneads at her breasts for only a moment before his hands are trailing back down the length of her dress, “Please take me upstairs, Harry.”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you beg, haven’t even told you what I’m going to do to your cunt,” He chuckles as his lips wander from hers to the hinge of her jaw where he drags his teeth across the thin skin, “I’m going to take such good care of you. Get you so ready for me that you’ll be crying on my fingers.”

“You’re all talk at this point,” YN points out but it doesn’t come off as bratty as she’d hope because of how breathless she is by now.

That’s all it takes to have Harry taking YN’s hand and leading her up the winding grand staircase to his bedroom - his room wasn’t overly decorated and was pretty simple with high ceilings and a bed that could easily fit five people.

Harry steps away from YN for a moment, going around the room and turning on the lights which illuminated the room in more of a romantic glow.

As he did, YN’s brain became a bit less hazy and the reality of what was about to happen sunk in, especially when Harry came over and murmurs, “Can I take this off of you?” As his fingers curled into the hem of her dress near her thighs.

And for some reason, all the insecurities and anxiety that she felt earlier about not being able to compare to the other women comes flashing into her mind but she finds herself nodding and saying, “Yes.”

Harry’s pulls the hem off the dress up slowly and in between kisses until YN is raising her arms up so that he can fully take it off of her, just leaving her in her lingerie that she bought off a cheap boutique online - nothing like what those models wore.

“Fuckin’ hell, are you trying to kill me?” Harry groans when he takes in her in just her bra and underwear, his eyes looking all over like they couldn’t decide one place to stay put but he is kissing her shoulder before he’s kneeling down in front of her.

That was sight that YN never wanted to forget, Harry down on his knees in front of her, his lips right at her belly and his strong hands moving behind her to knead at her backside.

She didn’t realize she was trembling until Harry pulls back with a frown.

YN wants to shout at him to come back when he stands back up and puts a foot of distance between them, “Are you sure you want to, pet? Your legs are shaking. I hope I haven’t made you feel pressured in anyway. I apol-“

And she wants to cry because that’s not it at all.

She instantly starts shaking her head in disagreement, interrupting him by putting her hand up, “No…I want to. I really want to and you haven’t pressured me one bit. I’m just…being stupid.”

Harry’s shoulders slump a bit in relief and he steps back over to her, his hands caressing over the caps of her shoulder blades, “If it’s not that than why are you shakin’ like a leaf, sweetheart?”

YN squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep inhale, deciding honesty is probably the best route in this situation, “I know I shouldn’t have but I googled you. And I just saw all these pictures of you leaving clubs and events with these models and…I know I don’t look anything like them and I’m not as sexy as them. I’m scared you’ll be disappointed with the experience.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment as he cradles her head in between his hands, his face is sincere and a bit sad when he tells her, “I’ve never liked someone like I like you. And this may sound crude or forward but I’ve never wanted to lay someone out and make them come as many times as they can like I want to do with you. I’ve never been more attracted to someone in my life.”

“Any person in the past five years that I’ve hooked up with have been nothing more than that. And in the past two years or so, I can't even remember the last time I’ve done that. I know you might not believe me but I haven’t been with anyone in quite some time. It stopped being fun when every single person I got with just wanted to use me for clout, popularity, bragging rights.”

“I believe you,” YN tells him, relief starting flooding into her body because he was so sincere and even though she was surprised that he was that he was so attracted to her, she believed him full heartedly.

“You act like you’re not drop dead gorgeous,”Harry frowns as he brushes a stray hair off of her forehead, “The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Never been able to look away from you since the first time you bumped into me.”

“I want you to do what you just said you wanted to do,” YN smiles with a shyness that is unusual for her, pressing herself up against him while he was still in his suit and now she was almost bare.

The delighted, hungry expression returns to Harry’s face when he hears that, taunting her as he shrugs out of his suit jacket, “Oh, remind me. What did I say, pet?”

But his lips were running down the column of her neck, his hands brushing the bra straps off her shoulders until they fell, and his lips taking their place.

“You’re such a tease,” YN accuses as she curls her fingers into his hair.

And YN’s never been teased like this, never had such buildup that wasn’t even foreplay yet, every other guy she’s been with - it had all been perfunctory and boring, predictable.

“S’not time to lay you out on m’bed yet,” Harry titters as his fingers come to her back, running along the band of her bra, and ghosting over the clasp, “Have to get to know your body first. Play with every single part of it and make sure you’ll never forget how good I’m going to make you feel.”

YN’s nearly sighs in relief when he finally slips the bra off, moving back to look at her, and she doesn’t even have a moment to feel self-conscious before he’s letting out an obscene moan at the sight, cupping them before moving down to suck one of her nipples into his mouth.

It was like he was starved for touch as he pulled at the nub between his teeth before lapping at it as his hand massaging at the neglected one, his fingers moving up to rub and pinch.

“Oh…fuck,” YN whines as she lets her head fall back, hair cascading down past her shoulders as she holds his head as close as possible to her and it’s never felt this good before when someone touched her chest.

Harry switches between the two, taking his time to languidly run his tongue over both of them after he pushes them together, and sucks at them with tight pressure.

YN’s never known that just her nipples being played with could make her aroused but she knew there had to be a damp spot on the front of her panties as Harry started walking them back towards the bed.

“That feels so good,” YN breathes at when he begins to nip at her buds, causing just the dullest pain pain that quickly melted into more pleasant sensation.

“Sweetheart, this is just the beginning. M’going have you crying with pleasure by the time I’m done with you,” Harry growls as YN’s knees hit the bed and she falls back, letting herself hit the fluffy comforter, “Do you like overstimulation?”

YN’s wriggles further onto the bed, bringing Harry with her by the hand wrapped around the nape of Harry’s neck, and tells him, “I don’t know.”

Harry pulls back from her tits, looking at her with a confused expression, “What do you mean? Do you like when someone makes you come more than once? Like when it almost feels too much.”

Oh god, she didn’t want to admit this.

“I…The guys I’ve been with have never made me come,” YN mumbles as she adverts her gaze up to the ceiling in humiliation for a moment before looking back down at Harry who’s resting his chin on her belly.

Harry’s face goes blank, a bit dumbfounded as he asks, “Are you fucking with me?”

“Stop,” YN giggles as she playfully kicks at him, “It’s embarrassing I know. I just haven’t been with anyone who’s been talented in that department, okay?”

Harry’s hand wraps around her ankle, a cocky smile coating his face, “Oh darlin’, m’going to show you my worth tonight. Now bend your knees for me.”

YN obliges, bending her knee, and watches as Harry kneels at the end of the bed - his button-up shirt was open for the most part, showing off his defined pectoral muscles and the butterfly that was inked below.

He moves his arms underneath her thighs which made it easier to pull her bum to the edge of the bed and he drapes her legs in the crooks of his elbows and her clothed core is right in front of him.

YN lays back and closes her eyes, just allowing herself to feel as she feels her stomach moves up and down quickly as she sucks in air, and she’s shaking now but it’s in pure anticipation for what’s to come.

She’s waiting for Harry to shimmy off her underwear but instead, Harry ducks forward and begins to kiss at her puffy mound and folds over the thin fabric.

YN tries to move her hips to get more but Harry keeps her in place, he moves down in the slightest and pushes in between her folds until he pushes the fabric is against her clit with his tongue.

“H, there,” YN murmurs softly as he begins to stroke at her with his tongue while his hands grip her bum and pull her further into his mouth as he makes the underwear sodden with her slick and his mouth.

It was overwhelmingly good to have the pressure on her bud like she’d never had before, her hands gripping the comforter that she was laying on.

YN lets out the most spoiled whine when Harry pulls his head back and he raises his eyebrow at her, he moves his one arm so that he can reach between them and put his thumb right on her clit where he gives her the most torturous, slow rubs he could.

“You’re a greedy lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Harry hums as his free hand moves up to thumb at her pebbled nipples, “Already getting obsessed with my touch. Just like it should be, never let you leave my bed. You’re a fuckin’ slice of heaven.”

“I’m not greedy,” YN denies weakly as her hips push up to get more friction applied from his thumb to where she’s throbbing for him.

“You’re riding my thumb right now,” Harry chuckles meanly, biting at the skin of her belly hard enough to make her squeak, “Most greedy lil’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

Harry keeps YN in this purgatory of pleasure and pure frustration for a good thirty minutes of switching between his mouth and thumb on her clit through her underwear.

She could feel hot tears prickling at the corner of her eyes because she wanted to come, she wanted him.

YN needed Harry and it seemed like she might die if she doesn’t in this moment even if it’s dramatic - she’s never craved anything like she’s craving his touch.

Harry catches it as soon as the first tear dribbles down her cheek, “Am I making you desperate, baby? M’not trying to be cruel. I’m just trying to prove to you that you should keep me around, y’know?”

What is he even talking about?

She’s definitely keeping him.

And she tells him so.

“Wh-why do you have to prove it? I’m keeping you, you’re mine,” YN gasps as he presses on her button just a little bit harder than before.

Harry preens at her words, “Say it again and I’ll make you come. Say it loud for me, pet.”

“You’re mine, Harry,” YN tells him again, voice louder and more confident, “You’re mine, please. Please need it.”

“Give you anything,” He murmurs, pleased as can be as he moves to the band of her panties and pulls them down her thighs until she’s bare.

He’s then helping her move up and to the center of the bed, splayed out with love bites all over her chest and belly, the sheen of his spit-slick kisses reflecting in the dim light.

Harry fucking finally relents when he burrows down between her thighs after shucking off his dress shirt and he uses two fingers to split her open to reveal what her puffy folds had been hiding.

“You’re going to make me come without even touching me,” Harry abdomishes as he stares at her, “How do you have the prettiest face, nipples, and cunt? It doesn’t make any sense, darling.”

YN felt like she was a rubber band about to snap, she couldn’t take anymore and she just needed him to do something because her orgasm has been building for the last half-hour.

“Please,” YN whispers quietly, it was pathetic and desperate but she let out a shutter from her sniffles - she’s never felt this good.

Harry pushes himself up to kiss her lips once before settling back down where he splits her folds open and gives her a firm, harsh lick from her core to clit.

His mouth stays there, pulling her clit between his lips and massaging it with his tongue while two of his thick fingers danced around her entrance before slowly tucking them up inside and curling forward.

YN came instantly, she swore she blacked out for a moment and saw stars but also felt a rush of fluid that she couldn’t figure out what is was until she finally comes back down to earth.

When YN sits up, she notices a small dark part of the comforter that was wet along with Harry’s face shining with slick.

“Oh my god,” YN gasps in horror as she realizes she not only just had her first orgasm from someone else but squirted on top of that.

Harry blinks up at her, he was just as surprised as he brought his hand back up where it was wet with her, “I’m not joking when I say that’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

And just like that, the humiliation is gone from her body and she’s giggling because he just looks so thrilled with himself.

She squeals excitedly when he pushes her back down and continues on, burying his face back between her legs.

When he licks at her sensitive, throbbing clit again - her legs kick out in reaction as pinpricks of overstimulation try to push Harry off.

But YN’s hand is wrapping up in his hair and keeping him down there.

She never had more than one orgasm at time, didn’t really know that she could, and she was shocked when she felt her next one building within a minute or two.

“Harry, I’m close again,” YN warns as her thighs begin to shake, she so badly wanted to close them around Harry’s head but his broad shoulders are prohibiting her from doing that.

“Come on, sweet girl,” Harry encourages in between suckles and laps, moving up to nip at the hood of clit to give her a spike of dull pain before soothing it with his tongue, “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh, she does.

YN’s back arches and she doesn’t care about being embarrassed anymore when she lets out a long, high-pitched whine, a sound she’s never made before as her chest heaves when her second orgasm comes barreling over her.

“Baby, s’good,” YN mewls, uncaring when the pet name slips even though Harry’s been using them constantly, and when she’s starting to come down from the second one, she gently leads Harry by the hair until he’s crawling up over her and their lips are meeting again.

YN’s not worried about being shy anymore, not after Harry just made her come like that, and so when she’s running her hand down his chest, tracing over the muscles of his stomach, she doesn’t stop until she’s palming him in his dress pants.

“Shit,” He gruffs in surprise, breaking their kiss for a moment, and moaning when she traces the outline of his cock where it’s ready to be freed from his confines.

YN manages to wriggle until Harry gets the picture and rolls off of her, onto his back where now he’s splayed out with his stomach sucking in, his ribs dancing against his skin on every breath in.

He’s body was incredible, the definition of his muscles from his pecs to his abdominals, all the way down to where there’s a sharp cut leading into the dress pants.

She had to get her mouth on him and had to give him a bit of the same treatment he gave her, she figured out quickly that he loved being bit and given lovebites.

YN works her way from his neck down his chest, stopping to give attention to his nipples which he was surprisingly reactive to - bucking his hips up when she dragged her teeth along them.

When she finally gets to the fine dusting of hair leading into his pants, YN unbuttons and zips them before beginning to tug them down his narrow hip.

At first, she was going to tease him but her eagerness to see him and so she’s peeling down his briefs too until he’s bare to her too - god, he was just as perfect here as well which shouldn’t be a surprise.

His cock was far bigger than anyone man she had even been with, by far, but it wasn’t initimating to her because she so desperately wanted it inside her.

It was thick and she never thought she’d describe a dick as pretty but it was, the pink tip was wet and his skins was smooth velvet as she ran her hand down the length of it.

There was a reason he had big dick energy.

And YN puffs out a breath of frustration when Harry pulls her back up right before she puts her mouth on him, he chuckles at her furrowed brow like a disgruntled puppy.

“Stop pouting,” Harry smooths out the wrinkle between her eyebrows, “I’m so hard for you, pet. I’ll come if you tease me and I want to get in you. I want to show you how good I can be for you.”

YN doesn’t regret it when she leans down and bits his shoulder, making him hiss before she’s grumps, “You teased me for nearly an hour and I can’t even touch you. S’not fair.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Harry pouts out his bottom lip condescendingly, “I promise there will be many more times to come where I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“You better keep that promise,” YN warns but she’s about as intimidating as a baby deer.

Harry lets out a throaty laugh as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “It’s not a hardship for me to promise you that you can have my cock whenever you want.”

He was filthy and YN was obsessed with it.

“Now need you to shush up,” Harry rumbles as he steadies YN where she’s sat across his thighs and sits up, scooting backwards until his back is against the headboard, “Gonna have you sit that pretty pussy on me. Gonna let you go as slow or fast as you want. Okay, baby?”

YN nods with a bit of nerves back in her as she straightens up and kneels further up until he’s bumping against her folds, she goes to reach to position him but Harry knocks her hand out of the way.

Harry presses forward until the plum tip of him parts her lips, finding her swollen clit and tapping himself against her which sends voltage shocks through her spine.

He paints himself down to her core, where he barely pushes in, YN’s stomach tense in anticipation before he’s moving back up to rub himself against her nerves.

She was so wet that there was soft noise as he teased, “Baby, do you hear how wet you are for me? Can’t believe how good you feel. Do you always get like this?”

YN shakes her head, swallowing dryly before telling him, “Never really got wet like this before. I, er, usually wasn’t enough other times and so they had to use lube.”

Harry’s expression is downright offended, “Nobody ever warmed you up, huh? Sounds like you’ve been with a bunch of chauvinistic pigs. I’ll always have you dripping down your thighs, pet.”

And she believes him.

YN’s still in a dazed state of his teasing when he doesn’t just push in a little but starts helping her sit down on him to finally get inside of her and god, she feels so full.

There’s no pain or stretch like she’s felt before with guys who were less endowed then him but he had gotten her so turned on and ready that there wasn’t anything but pure pleasure as he bottomed out .

He’s already nudging against an a livewired spot inside of her that she never felt before but knew was her g-spot, and his was just pressing on it by just being inside her.

“O-oh,” YN lets out a wanton moan as she begins grinding her hips, on every swivel her clit was bumping against the neatly trimmed hair on his pubic bone and the spot inside her being triggered by how thick and hard he was.

“That’s it, baby,” Harry sighs happily and he’s looking up at her with such awe before he’s pushing at the small of her back to get her upper body closer to his.

As she chases her own release, he’s kissing all over her, and it intimate as she’s ever been with someone as Harry just encourages her to make herself feel good with his body.

His lips are on her sternum, her belly, her shoulder, her face.

There was something about the way he kissed over her cheeks and jaw as she moans in pure ecstasy that made it romantic and made her feel closeness to her partner that she’d never felt before.

The soft whispers of encouragement against her temple as she got closer and closer to the edge, her thigh muscles were tired, “Please, H. Need you to make me feel good, please.”

And like that, Harry’s flipping them until YN’s splayed on her back once again, and he’s over top of her, his cross necklace tickling at her chest when props himself up on his elbows, either side of her head, and grinds his hips back into her.

YN can’t help but wrap her legs around Harry’s waist as he begins a steady rhythm of thrusts, leaning down to connect their lips together but YN can’t focus on it as she moans into his mouth.

“I need you to come f’me,” Harry pants lightly between pecks, his thrusts were becoming harder and he wasn’t pulling back as fast, “You’ve got me close, darling. Never had anyone feel so good on my cock.”

Harry doesn’t wait though, he’s going down on one arm to use his other to snake between their bodies to rub tight, purposeful circles on her bud until YN feels the band of tension snap and she’s digging her nails into his back as she comes for the third time.

And as soon as she does, Harry’s thrusting in twice more before stilling and letting out the sexiest, most filthy moan as he drops his head and let’s go, his moans were so low that YN didn’t even think his voice could get that deep and gravely like he’d been smoking.

YN’s become boneless, melting into the comfortable mattress, as she keeps her eyes shut - peaceful to feel the pinpricks of pain from overstimulation and how achey her thighs were from not usually using those muscles as much as she did tonight.

“Open your eyes f’me,” Harry murmurs softly after a moment, his thumb coming to sweep the drying tears off her cheeks and when YN whines in protest, he coos, “Just for a tick, darling. Look at me.”

YN blinks her eyes open, she’s exhausted and spent, and doesn’t feel like she could move if someone offered her a million dollars to do so as she meets Harry’s warm green eyes.

“I need to get you showered. M’not going to let you fall asleep all sticky and sweaty,” Harry titters as he begins to get off the bed, taking YN with him despite her weak whines of protest.

He coerces into his shower and YN was so tired that she couldn’t even appreciate that the shower head was on the ceiling and the water fell down like a rainforest storm.

YN stays leaned up against Harry, her head resting on his chest as he goes about lathering and massaging the shampoo into her hair with strong, magic fingers.

“Thank you,” YN mumbles after he washes out all the suds and moves onto scrubbing down her body, “I can clean myself.”

Harry stops where the washcloth is on her shoulder, “Do you not want me to do it?”

YN blinks rapidly again, coming back into focus, she dind’t want to offend him and she did want him too, “I do, it’s nice. I love it actually, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do all of this because we had sex.”

Harry frowns at her, “Have you never heard of aftercare?”

“I have I just thought that was for like crazy bondage or something.”

He chuckles with a shake of his head, “It is definitely important for people to do that but it’s also important anytime there’s intense sex. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated before we just slept together. I want to continue to take care of you, not just in the way of sex but because you’re important to me.”

“Do you do this with every girl?” YN asks out loud and maybe it wasn’t an appropriate question but she wasn’t going to judge if he said ‘yes’, it was pure curiosity.

Harry eyes dart to the side, his expression turning into a bit of guilt like he’s remembering other times, “No. I’ve never been great about it and some of the times I probably should have but just left. I…I can’t tell you enough how different you are than the rest.”

YN’s giggles when Harry’s resumes washing down her body, making her stomach as he wipes her underarms, “It was the best sex I’ve ever had. I look forward to having a lot more of it with you.”

He perks up with a cute hopeful expression, “Yeah? I…Do you think you would want to be exclusive with me?”

“As in we just date each other?” YN has to tease him a bit because of how he did the same to her earlier in the night.

Harry looks embarassed, “I wasn’t trying to -. If you don’t wan-“

“I’m just fucking with you. A little payback for earlier,” YN chuckles but Harry nips at her jaw meanly which makes her squeak, “Of course, I want that with you.”

“I promise I’ll be so good to you in every way,” Harry tells her sincerely as he washes the soapy residue from her body, “All make sure you’re taken care of. You can look forward much more sex in the future.”

❤️nine years later ❤️

“M’heart, what are you doin-“ Harry tries to question but he’s cut off by a harsh kiss as he’s being pushed backwards into a empty bathroom of a fancy museum where an event was being held in his honor.

YN’s breaks the kiss for only a moment to lock the door before her hands are going to his belt to start quickly undoing it as her lips nip and sucks at his jaw, leaving lipstick prints in their wake.

“What’s gotten into you?” Harry hums as he helps her unbutton his trousers, he was hard from the moment he realized he was being dragged into the loo for a quickie and so when she untucks his dress shirt his pants, he‘s plump and ready for her.

“The speech,” Is all YN utters before she has his briefs down to mid-thigh and she’s kneeling down in front of him, carefully in her designer dress to grip him firmly at the base and not hesitate to take him all the way down which she’s adores the surprised moan that comes from his chest without his permission.

The speech.

Harry had just been honored for the fifth year in the row with The United Kingdom’s Humanitarian of the Year Award because he had donated upwards a billion dollars to different charities and organizations, as well as having three successful charities of his own - one being in honor of Willow and her adoption.

He had gotten up on stage and began with the basic speech of what it means to donate and support causes all over the world, how the success of his business had led him to be this charitable, and how he encourages other billionaires to follow in his footsteps.

Then Harry went on to get a bit emotional when he thanks his wife and all three of his babies for making him a more charitable person, how he wouldn’t be anywhere without the love and support of YN, what a wonderful wife and mother she is, and how much he loves his three daughters.

Seeing Harry be such an amazing husband and father never failed to get YN wet for him.

It never went away after the first time that they shared a bed, that craving for Harry that made her stomach begin to churn with fiery arousal and lust for him.

She never failed to have her clenching her thighs together when Harry teased her, even just the little bit, and yes, it’s because they’re still wildly attracted to each other.

But she also thinks that it’s because they are so fucking in love with each other and she swears her undying love for him grows more everyday even if she thought that she couldn’t love him more.

And she knows Harry feels the same way.

From their first time, Harry’s promise had always stood, he never ever faltered to take care of her ever - he was always by her side during the good and bad times, he loved her so deeply that it couldn’t be put in to words.

Harry always made her feel like enough, she never worried about leggy models or not fitting the image that most expected because Harry never gave her a moment to doubt it.

After nine years, he was still trying to get in her pants anytime she would let him - he could be dominant and assertive which turned her on to no end but she also fucking loved it when he was pliant and let her boss him around.

“The speech, huh?” Harry repeats but he nearly chokes on the last syllable when her nose brushes into the hair of his pubic bone before she’s pulling back to take a deep breath, “Darling, your mouth is so pretty around my cock.”

YN is truly Harry’s match. Harry loves to tease. It never stopped after the first date, he loved to build anticipation by edging, and YN realized it was just as much fun to return the favor.

They really don’t have time for it right now because Harry’s the man of the night and all eyes are on him but right now, he’s nowhere to be found after his thank you speech.

She’s has a firm grip on his base as she suckles at tip, doe eyes blinking up at him as she seems in no rush to move things along, pulling back to run her tongue on the underside of him.

“Sweetheart, we don’t have time for this,” Harry warns but he’s struggling to keep his eyes open because even just the small kitten licks feel like heaven and just to keep him on his toes, she’s occasionally taking him all the way down, “Can drool over my cock when we get home. We have the house to ourselves tonight.”

And when YN ignores him, Harry knows what she wants, and it makes a sharp thrill pump through his veins, he reaches down and knots his hand in her hair and tugs, “I said enough. Are you that cock hungry?”

YN begins to pick up her pace which is a telltale sign that the dirty talk is working, and that she doesn’t want him to stop, so he doesn’t, adding in that same raspy tone, “You are so fuckin’ spoiled. Can’t stand anyone else given me attention, got to pull me into a bathroom and get me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t say anything about you fucking me,” YN bites back because now she’s in full brat mode but she’s still standing back up when Harry gives her hair another tug.

“No? So if I put my hand under your dress you won’t be dripping down your thighs?” Harry coos but his hand is already hiking up the skirt of her dress and the moment his fingers brush over the front of her mound, he can feel how damp she is, “S’cute that after all this time you get soaked for me like the first time I fucked you.”

YN mewls when he tugs her panties to the side to tuck two fingers up, Harry’s trying to get her to beg, he loved turning the tables when she came in bossy but left a crybaby.

He pets right at her spot and he can feel her tense, a telltale sign that she was going to come soon, and so he pulls out his fingers to suck them in between his own lips, “I wish I had enough time to lick in to you. I guess you’ll just have to make do with my cock.”

“Come on, now please, baby,” YN grumbles as he lifts her up to put her bum on the sink counter, pushing the dress up around her hips, and pinning the underwear to the side.

“Tell me you love me and I’ll fuck you, m’heart,” Harry hums as he pumps himself, he was so ready for her, and he rests the tip right at where she’s hot for him - his hips twitched in anticipation.

“I love you so much,” YN whines but it’s sincere, leaning up to kiss him before adding, “The best husband and father of my babies I could ask for. I just want you, H. Want you all the time.”

Harry melts a little at her sweet words, the dominance in his voice fading as he pushes in, moving to cup her jaw, and he brushes his nose against hers - far too intimate for this setting.

“I couldn’t love anymore than I love you,” He whispers against her lips, “I fuckin’ live for you. Everyday I wake up and wonder what the fuck I did to deserve you. I want you now and for forever, you’re mine, the love of my life.”

And YN thinks back to when she was nervous, shaking like a leaf in front of the same man because she was so intimidated by him - she’s now married to him and has three children with, how she didn’t think she was worthy.

To know having that same man smattering kisses over her cheeks and nose to make her giggle while he cleans her up in a tiny bathroom after having a quickie that they really shouldn’t have because he’s the man of the night.

She knew she picked right.

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