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bunnylovesani · 1 year ago

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An Arrangement

Summary: You’re a princess taken from your home planet and forced to marry Darth Vader. Turns out life on the Death Star isn’t as bad as everyone makes out. Based on the prompt shared with @luminoustarlight !

Content warnings: p in v sex, degradation, sub dynamics, begging, some violence, slow burn smut

WC: 9.3k

You stare out the grand palatial window in the coronation room, passively observing the flames swallowing the city of your home planet Onderon. Unintelligible screams flood the background, soon mercilessly silenced by the thuds and cracks of brusquely operated laser guns.

So this is how you were to meet your end: powerless at the mercy of the imperial army. You’d been trained for such a scenario before and you always carried a vial of poison in the event of capture; you’d rather die than be made to serve the Empire’s twisted interests.

“Princess, you need to take cover, follow my men into the vault below!” Your faithful attendant, Silas called out in panic.

“No, Silas. I will not cower in the basement waiting for them to breach our walls. I will remain here and eagerly await them.”

“But Your Grace-!”

“Enough.” You bark back. “It’s over. You have been discharged from duty, run while you still can. Thank you for all your years of service, I pray that our paths might cross again in another life.” You turn from him, tears flowing down your stiffeningly cold cheeks.

“May the Maker keep and protect you, Princess. You are our only hope.” He replies solemnly, before fleeing through the stony back passage of the palace.

You chuckle mirthlessly at the futility of his words and reach into your bosom where the corset of your gown has a sewn-in compartment. You extract the compact glass ampule of viper venom, so toxic that one drop is enough to send you into an eternal sleep, and fiddle with the intricate bottle for a few moments. With a heavy sigh, you tuck it under your sleeve; you decided you wanted to gaze into the eyes of your captors before you bid farewell to life.

With a resounding crash, the barricaded gate before you falls and the imperial army- donning armour plastered in dust and foreign blood- swarm into the great hall of the palace. You force the knot in your throat down with a gulp and turn on your heel to face the brutes responsible for the massacre of your people.

“Ah Princess, excellent. We thought you’d be grovelling underground with your father but you’ve just made our job a whole lot easier.” A masked figure that you presume is the Commander of the battalion addresses you. “Grab her. But keep her alive, she’s got a special purpose to fulfil.”

Hearing the ominous plans they have in store for you, you rush to reach for the poison in your sleeve but are hindered by the stampede of soldiers hurtling at you, slapping the vial out of your hand and shattering it all over the nitid marble floor.

‘Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about it.” The unnaturally deep voice of the commander booms. “You’ve been specially requested at the behest of the Emperor.” Dread consumes you as you’re roughly cuffed and dragged out of the safety of your childhood home. The soldiers marching comes to a sudden halt and you’re made to turn around and stare at the palace, a deadly silence hanging in the air.

“Burn it.”

Triggered by the commander’s words, a roaring blaze fulminates, the building being crushed in an instant by the force of the explosion. All you can see is the reflection of smouldering flickers through the thick veil of tears filling your eyes.

The commander smugly trudges over to you, sharply inhaling. “Ah, there’s nothing better than the smell of a coward’s smouldering corpse.” He hisses, words dripping with venom. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Your heart burned at the injustice, at the innocent civilians decimated- but you couldn’t fool yourself into pretending that scorn extended to your dearly departed father.

Refusing to reply to his provocation with anything other than an expectorated glob of spit aimed at his helmet, he takes the barrel of his gun and pummels it with brute force against your temple. You’re instantly rendered unconscious and your limp body is packed into the nearest starfighter, chained up and ready to make the journey from Onderon to the Death Star.

The first thing you do as you’re rudely awoken is cradle your aching head- a wave of nausea overtaking you and the electric pain behind your eyes knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Rise ’n shine, Onderon whore.” One of the soldiers grabbing you by the elbow spat and you stumbled to your feet like a newborn foal. After being dragged through a fortified steel tunnel, you were harshly thrown to the floor in a cold control room before two cloaked men, one of whom wore black combat boots- no doubt robust and heavy enough to crack open a skull. The light in the battle station glowed painfully bright and you lifted your head as best you could to observe the squabbling figures through squinted eyes.

“Here she is, my young Lord. I think she’ll do nicely, yes?” The ominously raspy voice croaked and you knew at once it was none other than Emperor Sheev Palpatine.

“She’s shivering.” The monotonous voice of the other cloaked figure stated callously and only then did you notice how your body was trembling- whether it was from the cold or the fear, you weren’t sure.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to warm her up on your wedding night.” He cackles wickedly but is met with silence from the man opposite him. The last thing you remember before it all went black was the light reflecting off of the quiet man’s helmet, and wondering what might be lurking underneath.

“Tskk poor thing, look at this cut on your head.” You flutter your eyes open to see a woman in a billowed white cloak tutting and fussing over you. “Good morning, princess.”

“Who are you?” You scowl, trying to get up and immediately being knocked back down by the overwhelming pain.

“Whoa, easy now! Nice ’n slow.” The woman puts her arm around your waist and helps you to sit up. “I’m Sabe, a royal handmaiden. Your handmaiden, to be exact.”

“Where am I?” You croak, uncertain you wanted to know.

“You’re on the Death Star, ma’am.”

Bile rises in your throat at the realisation that none of it was a dream- your recollection of the last 24 hours starts flooding in and your chest seizes in panic. The fire, the cloaked men, the people in the vault.

“You’re all right, just breathe. No harm is going to come to you. He’s made sure of that.” Sabe spouts and your head snaps at her.

“He?”

“Oh yes, Lord Vader gave orders for your protection. Under penalty of death. If you ask me, he just needs a woman’s touch to soften him up and he’d finally succeed in shaking that leech of an emperor off. Suppose that’s where you come in!”

“Me?” You screech, wondering when you’d say something not in the form of a question.

“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t know…the Emperor is arranging a wedding between his young protegee and a princess from a seized planet. The princess being you, if that’s not clear.” She continued chattering incessantly.

“Yes, I got that.” You snap. “And when is this supposed union meant to be taking place?”

“Tonight.”

You choose to remain quiet, rather than parroting back her last word in the form of yet another question.

After your handmaiden assists in bathing and dressing you in clean robes, you still can’t seem to escape the dull throbbing of the headache that permeates every cell of your body, leaving you in persistent agony. You beg Sabe to find something to help, knowing that you yourself weren’t allowed to leave the confines of the east wing. Stepping out onto the enclosed observatory space by your chambers, you stare out into the stars surrounding the vessel. You wished you could break beyond the thick glass enclave and just glide away, joining the stars and freeing yourself from the pain.

“Who hurt you?” A raspy voice questions and you turn around to the sight of Lord Vader, enveloped in his armour and mask.

“Uh, whoever the commander of the battalion was.” You reply, startled.

“He will be dealt with. Now come here.” He reaches his gloved hand out, signalling for you to grab it. With a great deal of uncertainty, you approached him, timidly giving him your hand. He takes it into his palm and holds it firmly to his chest. As if some force had siphoned the contusions and swelling out of you, you felt your agony slowly subside- until there was nothing at all in its wake.

“H-how did you do that?” You took a step back from him, holding your fingers up to your temple in disbelief. You’d heard of force healing before but assumed it was either a myth or a nearly lost practice only wielded by the most masterly of Jedi.

“Go back to your chambers and rest. You have a long ordeal ahead of you.” He leaves your question unanswered and marches out of the observatory as quickly as he entered it.

You’re compelled to follow his commands so you retreat to your chambers, forcing yourself to drink the healing tea Sabe concocted after having decided it was easier than explaining the bizarre experience you’d had. That was the dark Sith Lord that struck terror into the hearts of everyone who faced him? Ruthless, soulless, devoid of all human compassion- and channelling force healing to ease your headache? You spent all afternoon writhing in confusion, all the way up until a neatly packaged box was left on the doorstep of your assigned room. Upon closer inspection, the box contained an intricate white lace dress, paired with a beaded, scallop hemmed headpiece. A wedding outfit.

Standing at the forefront of the cold metallic arena, you twiddled with the sleeves on your dress- the material itching terribly and making your skin crawl. In a way, you were glad to have something occupy your mind beyond the impending prospect of marrying a Sith brute. You wondered why he wore that clunky helmet- is he so hideously deformed he has to hide behind it lest people faint at the sight?

A frightened-looking man you can only assume is the officiator of this sham of a wedding is escorted through the heavily guarded gates and takes his place before you, not daring to make eye contact. Your body fills with dread at the familiar sound of heavy boots dragging along the steel plates of the floor. He doesn’t spare you a passing glance for even a moment, despite your stubborn resolution to face him for the entirety of the ceremony- you wanted to look deep into the supposedly merciless eyes of your new husband. There aren’t any vows, there’s no exchange of rings, no kiss to celebrate the union- just some legal jargon and a couple of witnesses. Although you can’t see him, you can feel Palpatine’s snake eyes burning into you, no doubt observing from another room to ensure his mysterious plan came to fruition.

“Follow me.” A stormtrooper orders you and begins to head back in the direction of your chambers. Confused, you allow him to escort you out of the hall as you see a cloaked figure approach Lord Vader out of the corner of your eye. You just about hear the Emperor’s gravelly voice hiss out the word “consummate” before the doors shut behind you and you’re carried away to the bedroom. For some reason, the thought of sex hadn’t crossed your mind- you assumed villains like him had interests that surpassed such blunt mortal affairs - but now standing in front of your 4-poster bed, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps again, reality sunk in. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat and lay on the bed, removing the first layer of your dress and remaining in a white negligee. “Just lie back and think of Onderon.” You thought.

Your whole body tensed as you observed him enter your joint chambers, completely walking past you and going to the connecting bathroom, door left ajar.

“I’m ready, Lord Vader.” You stiffly announce, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible.

Hearing your words, he peers out of the doorway and although you can’t see his face, his body language seems perplexed.

“What are you doing?” He remarks accusingly.

“I-I’m…waiting for you to consummate our marriage. Like Palpatine wishes.” He scoffs at your comment- laughs even- and goes back into the bathroom.

“I will do nothing of the sort.” You hear him say.

Sitting up on the bed and dragging the covers over your exposed body, you’re bewildered.

“Oh, c-can Sith Lords not…?” You stutter, searching for an explanation.

“I assure you I’m perfectly capable.” He snaps back. “I just have no desire for the task.”

Although relief floods your body, you feel slightly offended at the presumption that lovemaking with you should be a task.

Just then, you hear a steamy hissing sound, followed by a loud thud. The figure emerges, back facing you without his layers of armour- donning a simple black shirt and black trousers. He wanders over to the window at the far end of the room, staring out into space.

“I’m sorry about your father.” He grunts after a while and you finally hear his voice- free from robotic static, with no menacing growl - just him, and it sounds beautiful.

“Don’t be.” You say sincerely, fixated on the back of his head. You notice he has dark blonde curls, gathering in tufts at the nape of his neck. “Come on, turn around.” You think, bracing yourself for what you might find.

“Alright, if you insist.” He remarks and you scowl in confusion- you didn’t say that out loud, did you?

He pivots round to face you and you feel as though someone has knocked the air from your lungs: he glares at you with mesmerising cobalt-blue eyes, embellished by abundantly thick lashes and even thicker eyebrows sitting atop his handsomely chiselled face. His cheekbones stand at attention, enhanced by his sculpted jawline, which works in perfect harmony with the rest of his body- even his collarbones are perfect. He’s full of sprightly vigour, he’s young even. You are floored and contemplate how anyone could hide such a face away in that clunky helmet.

“Not what you were expecting, huh?” He speaks, sensing the utter shock his appearance has inflicted on you.

“You…you’re-” You stutter.

“Not hideously deformed?”

“-beautiful.”

He raises his bushy eyebrows disapprovingly and you scold yourself for being so forthright. He may be devilishly handsome, but that doesn’t mean you can swoon over him. He’s a monster, remember? Sure, he has the most seductive pair of lips you’d ever seen on a man - all plump and the perfect shade of pink- and sure, he’s sparked a desire within you that you don’t think you’d ever felt before but…where were you going with this?

“I’m going to sleep in the adjoining room, you can take my chambers.” You’re snapped out of your dreamy haze by his velvety voice as he begins to walk away.

“Wait! Y-you don’t have to, I’m sure the bed is uncomfortable over there.”

“No, it’s perfectly fine.” He continues marching away.

“Wait! The bed here is more than big enough for the both of us, we wouldn’t even touch.” You stumble over your words, melting under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Do you want me to sleep with you, Princess?” His movement comes to a halt and you’re rendered speechless. “Because that really would be something. Captured and brutalised after all that you hold dear is set alight, forced to marry a servant of evil- and then you request his company in your bed? That would be deranged. You’re not deranged now, are you Princess?”

Your mouth goes dry at the snarky way in which he’s talking to you- you admit it sounds mad out loud but the situation is more complicated than he thinks.

“N-no.” You mutter, barely above a whisper.

“Good, I wouldn’t want to find out I’ve married damaged goods.” He remarks impertinently. “I’m retiring for the evening- and I am not to be disturbed.” With that, he slams the door between you shut and you slide down your headboard, consumed by embarrassment, shame, desire. His dastardly good looks have really thrown a spanner into the works.

You barely managed to get any sleep that night, much like every night the week following the wedding. Your dreams were plagued by visions- of your father, of your captors, of your husband. Before your seizure, you already knew your future would hold a forced marriage; although an even less desirable one. Your father had plans to marry you off to your cousin, a brainless specimen by the name of Fester who was too dim-witted to even realise he was being used as a pawn in the family’s bloodline feud.

Despite your many attempts to plead and beg your way out of this union, your father dismissed you entirely- even going so far as to sanction you to the confines of your stuffy quarters, striking you remorselessly when you defied his orders.

You’d spent a lifetime dreamily peering out of your windows, waiting to be liberated by a saviour that never came- at least not in the way you thought.

Lord Vader was never present, aside from a very brief juncture in the evenings, when he would pass through your chambers on the way to his bedroom. You tried to make conversation but he either stared at you with dead, unamused eyes or flat-out ignored you. Asking him what he did during his working hours was not one of the things you tried to speak about- much preferring to stay in ignorant bliss- and he was more than happy to not be at the receiving end of your questions for once.

Growing increasingly tired of questioning your purpose on this wretched behemoth of a ship, you took the liberty of posting yourself outside his bedroom that night, waiting to block his exit until he at least acknowledged your existence. You’re ashamed to admit that you selected your nightwear especially for him- tonight choosing to wear the thinnest of slip dresses in the pathetic hopes that he might be drawn in by your pert chest.

As is routine, you hear the doors to your chambers swing open and are greeted with the welcome sight of the young Lord, who strides over to you intimidatingly. Removing his helmet and towering before you, you gulp at not just the height difference- but the sheer broadness of his shoulders compared to your slender ones.

“Move.” He states, glaring at you unaffectedly.

“No. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” You stubbornly huff and you think you spot a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“You don’t give the orders around here, Princess.” He asserts as he lifts you up by the waist with ease and drops you out of his way like you were a meagre traffic obstruction. You’re filled with disbelief as he enters his room, shutting the door in your face. “At least he didn’t slam it tonight.” You ponder.

Slouching down the door defeatedly, you pout as you hear him undress, desperately in need of an explanation.

“Please.” You plead pitiably, not expecting him to hear you.

You almost fall to the floor as your backrest swings open, and you lift your head to see him, sighing above you.

“What is it?”

“I-I just wanna know some things.” You mutter, cradling your knees on the floor.

“Then talk.” He taps his foot impatiently.

“Well uh- for starters, why am I here?” You rise from the floor to face him. “Why did Palpatine want you to marry me?”

“He wants me to sire a son- to ensure his plans can be carried out should I be otherwise indisposed.” He looks away coldly.

“I don’t understa-“

“Palpatine will live into his 200s. I am only human. If I am killed, he wants another apprentice to bend to his will, one just as strong with the force.”

“So why haven’t you attempted to do any siring yet?” He looks at you with a look of intense shock, disgust even. Of all the things he’s said, you take issue with his lack of action in the bedroom.

“I refuse to participate in this charade. He’ll see that you’re barren after a while- and we’ll dispose of you accordingly.”

“But I’m not barren.” You interject, dismissing the latter part of his sentence.

“It would be in your best interests to pretend you are.” You’re beguiled by his smooth voice and find yourself yearning to hear it all night. “I’ve brought someone to keep you company, hopefully with them in attendance you’ll be less inclined to seek my attention.”

“Another handmaiden? Ah, spare me- the current one is more than irritating enough on her own.” You shudder at the thought of 2 Sabes, prattling in your ear all day.

“No, I’ve ordered for the capture of your former attendant. I believe you were quite fond of him- Silas, is it?”

Your heart seizes, he’s alive? More importantly, he’s being brought to you? You stare at the scowling face of your husband, who looks afraid you might try to do something overly affectionate.

“A purely self-indulgent measure. To prevent any future ambushes like the one tonight.” He backtracks, attempting to impose some distance but you disregard it entirely. “If that’s not enough to keep you occupied, you can also have access to my private library - Silas will be waiting for you there tomorrow.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” You whisper, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping your arms against his waist, face snugly pressed into his firm chest. You feel him tense up at the intrusion, but he relaxes ever so slightly with an exhale, hovering his arms above your own- careful not to let them touch lest he give you the impression he’s embracing you back.

“Call me Anakin.” He mumbles softly.

You wake up the next day, your chest feeling lighter than it has in years. Bounding out of bed, you instil deep confusion in Sabe, who enters your room with fresh clothes.

“Having a good morning?” She asks.

“I think actually, yes. Yes, I am.” You reply resolutely, allowing her to dress you without your usual complaints as she tightens your corset.

“Might this have anything to do with Lord Vader?” She raises an eyebrow, consumed with curiosity.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I see that my new life might not be so bad after all. I believe I have someone waiting for me, you’re dismissed for now, Sabe.” You waltz out of your chambers to the library that Anakin mentioned you were granted entrance to.

You enter the room and stare in wonder at the rows upon rows of polished shelves, furnished with all kinds of large, leather-bound books. Among the volumes of publications is a tall, spindly man- standing with his back turned.

“Silas!” You cry out and dart towards him, colliding against him in a tight embrace.

“Princess! Let me look at you, are you hurt?” He grabs your face, inspecting it for any cuts or bruises.

“No, no I’m perfectly fine!” You smile.

“How could you possibly be fine? I heard about the wedding- it’s a scandal, it’s a disgrace! The intergalactic senate will hear about this- I promise I will get you out!“

“Silas, it’s okay, I’m being treated well here.” Your reply sends him into a stunned silence.

“You’ve been married to a Sith Lord. A princess of the purest blood made to intermingle with the lap dog of the Emperor. I don’t even want to think about what you’ve been forced to do here to survive.” He shudders.

“I haven’t been made to do anything. And Anakin really isn’t that bad once you get to know him a little.”

“Anakin?” Silas almost breaks out in hives at what he’s hearing.

“Yeah, that’s his real name. And oh, Silas, he’s so handsome!” You clamber on, reading the titles off a nearby bookshelf and digging for something that might take your fancy.

“I don’t believe this. One week under captivity and you’ve been brainwashed already.” He takes his head into his hands.

“I haven’t been brainwashed.” You chuckle. “Anakin is the one who brought you here. Just for me. And he lets me have the nicest quarters on the ship- and I’m allowed private access to the whole library!” You gush.

“So he’s built you a very pleasant cage. Fantastic. Just because your prison has a nice interior doesn’t make it your home.”

“Well, it’s no less of a prison than Onderon was. At least in this one, my marriage isn’t incestuous.” Silas’s eyes widen beyond measure at the boldness of your statement and he takes a seat before he collapses.

“He used the force to heal me when I was in pain.”

“And what caused you to be hurt in the first place?” He snaps back accusingly.

“Silas, listen to me.” You kneel beside him, taking his hand into your own. “I’ve spent too many years worrying about the fate of my future, cursing the Maker for how little control I had over my own destiny. No more. I can only take life as it comes in small waves- I have relinquished control. This is my new home now.”

With a heavy sigh, Silas nods- looking away as if unable to process your revelation.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You say, mischievous twinkle in your eye.

The remainder of the day is spent flicking through various books, amassing a pile of them in your bedroom so high that you could barely see Sabe’s head poking through when she entered.

“Um, m’lady? If you won’t be requiring anything else for the night, can I retire? Silas and I were thinking of wandering down to the observatory by my quarters…”

“Of course, Sabe, enjoy.” You chuckle as she meekly smiles and exits your room. You knew they’d hit it off, one perennial chatterbox with another. Flicking through the last page of the first edition volume of The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise, you hummed discontentedly. “What a terrible ending.” You thought as you inspected the piles on your floor for the second volume. You suspect you must’ve left it in the library when you were packing your books onto the trolley so you wrap a thin robe around yourself and march down the hall. You notice the lights already burning as you enter the library cautiously, peering your head through to see Anakin, sitting on an armchair and reading something out of a thick, metal-encased manual.

“What’s your book about?” You query as you approach him slowly.

“It’s a story about a very naughty princess who loves to go looking for trouble.” He sneers, lip curling up into the shadow of a smile.

“No, it’s not!” You titter as you pry over the bind, seeing various starfighter diagrams and mechanical cross-sections.

“What do you want now?” He shuts the book promptly.

“I just came to collect something I left behind.” You reply innocently.

“I trust you’re enjoying my collection, then.” He looks up at you for the first time and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his dreamy eyes.

“Oh yes, it’s very impressive. I didn’t think Sith Lords read so much.”

“They don’t.” He gets up from his chair, sauntering over to a nearby shelf and picking out a specific book. “Try this, I think you’ll like it.” He throws the book in your direction and you catch it; observing the cover, you speculate it’s some kind of historical tale about a lost civilisation.

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to read it.” You tuck it under your arm. “Are you retiring for the night yet?”

“Yes, I’ll leave the library to you.” He gets up to leave but you stand in front of him.

“I was only here to get something, escort me back?” You ask and he looks you up and down before making a low grunting sound, something you can only assume is a sign of acceptance. He heads out the door and you follow, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

“I never got to thank you.” You say as you enter your chambers, seizing the short moment you have to converse before he disappears into his bedroom.

“What could you possibly have to thank me for?” He rolls his eyes.

“For rescuing me.” You reach out to touch him by the arm but back down, courage failing you.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“No, really. My circumstances back home were…less than ideal.” You stare down at your feet.

“I admit I find it peculiar that you don’t seem to be in mourning.” He notes, more intrigue in his tone than you’re used to.

“Would you be in mourning over a man who oppressed and rebuked you at every turn?”

“I see. I suppose that explains your…unorthodox behaviour.” For the very first time, he takes a seat on the chaise lounge by your bed- does he actually want to have this conversation with you?

“I guess you could say that. After he locked me up in the palace and forced me to accept my cousin’s betrothal, I abandoned all hope for the future and resigned myself to perpetual misery. And then you came along.” He squints his eyes, looking almost frustrated with your positivity.

“Are you sure you understand the situation you’ve found yourself in? You’re aware you’ve been abducted- forced to spend every day locked up here, never to see your planet or familiars again? Forced to play wife to me?” He gawks incredulously.

“You’re not as bad as you make out.” You smile at him. “And you’re certainly very easy on the eyes.” You look for changes in his demeanour but it remains unaffected. “Would you have preferred it if I was terrified and unwilling to go near you?”

“Terrified? Of course not, the thought of it sickened me. Unwilling to go near me? I’m not sure I’d mind.” He states and you wonder if that was his way of making a joke. “I regret that you’ve been ensnared into this. I wish it could’ve been different.”

“I don’t.” You pluck up the courage to sit beside him, placing your hand on his leg. “I can see there’s goodness within you. It’s almost tangible in the way you treat me.”

“Clearly I’ve given you the wrong impression.” He mutters gruffly, visibly uncomfortable. “And you can stop wearing those little dresses around me. All you’re going to succeed in doing is get frostbite.” He pushes your hand off him.

“Do you find me that repulsive?” You question sharply, tired of being made to feel undesirable. “I’ve been told my looks rival that of some of the fairest Princesses in the galaxy. Is a man like yourself so completely cold to the affections of women?”

“I fail to see how that is relevant.” He dismisses.

“It’s relevant because I’m tired of my bed being cold. You chose to marry me, now act like a husband!”

“What choice? I had no choice!” He shouts back and your blood runs cold when he stands towering over you.

“That makes two of us. But I fail to see what good can come from sulking about it.” You lower your tone.

“You’re that desperate, huh?” He sneers condescendingly.

“So what if I am?” You throw caution to the wind, fully aware of the way you’re debasing yourself right now; after the breadcrumbs of affection he’d been giving you, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fine.” He says, making his way over to the bed, ripping off his shirt.

“W-what are you doing?” You murmur as he undresses and positions himself in the middle of your stately bed.

“I’m ready, Princess.” He mocks, parroting what you’d said to him on your wedding night. “You wanted to fuck me, right? Well here I am. At your royal disposal.”

“N-not like this.” You mutter, trying not to stare at his firm pecs or chiselled abdomen.

“What’s the matter? You’ve been prancing around in those little dresses all week, practically begging me to give you a scrap of my attention and now I’m in our marital bed, you’re too scared?”

“I’m not scared, I just don’t want to feel like I’m forcing myself on you.” You mutter quietly, drained of all confidence.

“You’re worried about all the wrong things. Palpatine told me to brutalise you to within an inch of your life, you know that? To take all my anger out on you and make you pay for the sins of your family. And you’re worried about whether you’re taking advantage of me. I fear I have been too soft. You seem to forget who you’re speaking to.”

“But you didn’t.” You sniffle.

“What?”

“But you didn’t do those things. You’re a good man, Anakin.” Your voice softens and you climb up the bed to join him, allowing your gaze to linger on the small line of blonde curling hair starting from his belly button, travelling down to what lay underneath his underwear.

“No. I haven’t quite lost all my humanity.” He breathes heavily, seemingly noticing your staring.

“Let me show you my appreciation.” You bit your lip and bravely met his intense gaze. He doesn’t respond, the only noticeable reaction being his eyes wandering down to your breasts, thin material doing little to conceal your pert nipples.

“Do you wish to see me?” You ask, fingers toying with the straps as he huffs slightly, acting as though this were beneath him- but still remaining silent. You shrug the material off, revealing your round, perky breasts to him. You think you can see something twitching in his boxers but you can’t be sure.

“Can I?” You ask, gesturing to sit on his lap but he remains speechless. “Please, my Lord, I need to hear you-“

“Yes.”

A grin spreads across your face as you mount him, completely bare. Putting your hands on his chest, you move your hips a little to feel him. Not that you were expecting any less for a man of his stature, but you felt yourself getting soaked at his formidable size; he was surely 8 inches, and just as satisfyingly thick. Your eyes fall to his pretty face and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss him all over. Reaching down to plant small kisses over his temple and cheeks, you feel him stiffen even more.

“What are you doing?” He grumbles.

“Shut up and kiss me.” You pant as you capture his lips in a soft kiss, brushing them against each other. You can feel him almost fighting the urge to hold you so you take the initiative and grab him by the jaw, kissing him deeply and passionately. You think you hear a moan slip out of his mouth but when you pull away, he’s still got the same cold expression on his beautiful face- brows slightly furrowed and lips pursed in disaffection.

“If you’re waiting for me to make a move, it’s not going to happen.” He sighs, looking fatigued. A quiet rage simmers within you. You’ve had suitors lining up at the palace gates since you were a teenager and now this glorified servant is behaving as though he is the prize. You craved the chance to teach him not to underestimate you, to make him see you were special. “On another occasion, perhaps.” You thought. Tonight, you just wanted to make him writhe beneath you.

“If you’re going to be making snarky comments all evening, I’m going to stuff my panties in your mouth to silence you.”

“What panties? You didn’t wear any.” He grins and your chest sets alight. However brief it was, it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile. His teeth were pearly and straight, and his smile broad enough to reach across his whole face in a bright, radiant flash. You felt like your day had gotten better just by being witness to it.

“Why do you always do that?” He breaks your trance.

“Huh, do what?”

“Disassociate. You stare right through me when you do it.”

“M’sorry. I can’t help it.” You feel a fierce shyness overcome you.

“You find me that handsome?”

“Yes.” You whisper. You have no idea why you’re admitting to it.

“Is that why you don’t mind being married to me?” He continues and you’re confused by the volume of questions coming your way- it’s more than he’s talked to you all week.

“Partly.” He smirks a little at the ego boost and places his hands on the back of his neck, arm muscles flexing as they’re extended. You trail a line from the centre of his chest down to his abdomen with the tip of your index finger, stopping as you reach the band of his boxers. You look up at him and he raises an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to go further. Toying with the band for a little while, you steel yourself and pull them down in one prompt motion. You have to hold in a wince as you take it in- in all its thick, veiny glory. With a shuddery breath, you savour the view before you: his strong, toned arms trailed down to his athletic torso, v-line achingly defined and sloping down to his large, pink-tipped member. “Even his dick is pretty.” You mentally cursed. His smirking, confident simper never faltered, not feeling a fragment of insecurity for even a moment.

Knowing you weren’t going to get any warming up from him, you lifted your hips and angled yourself up, tip kissing your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly sunk down on him, lowering yourself gradually until your bare skin brushed against the curls around the base of his cock. He shuts his eyes for a moment and exhales lightly, pretty lips forming into a small o shape. You try to subdue the overwhelming feeling of being filled so deeply, not wanting to stroke his ego even more than you already have. You begin to move, riding him very slowly and focusing on his chest as it rises and falls, eyes watering at the sensation of being stretched out. Worrying that he’s going to question why you’re going so slow, you begin to speed up even though it aches.

“Slow down.” He speaks softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“As if you care.” You huff.

“Don’t get on my bad side, Princess.” He shoots you a deadly glance and you slow back down, knowing better than to disobey him. It takes you a good while to accommodate to his size, oo’s and aa’s escaping your mouth every time you straighten up and sink down on his cock a little too deeply- but after the adjustment period, you start to ride him confidently. Your tits bounce with a hypnotising jiggle as you smack the flesh of your ass against his thighs, wetness drenching you both. Noticing how his arms lay by his side, you grab him by the wrist and lay them on your hips. He grips onto them slightly for a moment, but quickly releases and lets them fall back down to his sides. You whine a little, starved of affection. You were bouncing on his cock yet you still felt like you weren’t close.

“Please?” You moan.

“You wanted this, not me. I said I’m not participating, didn’t I?” His voice rings out, completely unaffected while you were a panting mess.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not- ah- enjoying it. F-feels good, doesn’t it?” You stutter, feeling his tip prodding that spongy spot within you that threatens to be your undoing.

“It’s fine.” He replies, still refusing to engage in any meaningful way.

“Oh come on, Anakin! Give me something.” You feel like you’re one snarky comment away from resorting to begging.

“I’ve given you my cock. What more do you want out of me?”

“I want you to talk to me, I want you to touch me. To be present!”

“And I want for my wife to not be such a whore.” Your mouth gapes open at his harsh words, but you continue bouncing, getting too close to stop now. “I mean seriously, you’re being held hostage and all you can think about is getting fucked? There’s nothing in that little brain of yours other than visions of me fucking you, is there? I’ve seen them.”

You moan at his degrading words- if you weren’t so cock drunk, you might be ashamed of the way you’re allowing him to speak to you.

“Oh my God, are you gonna cum from me talking down to you? Does me calling you a stupid whore get you off?” He rambles and you can’t stop yourself from turning into a whimpering mess, moans spilling out at every turn and unintelligible groans flooding the room as you bounce on his cock.

He reaches up towards you and you think he might be pulling you in for a kiss but instead, he hooks his fingers into the corners of your mouth, stretching it out. You babble out disjointed syllables, too overwhelmed to establish a rhythm that isn’t completely sloppy.

“The fuck are you even saying right now?” He laughs and oh god, there’s that smile again- if his cock wasn’t enough, now his grin is making your legs feel like jelly.

“What are these dumb little sounds you’re spluttering out? You sound like an idiot.” The lewd squelching noises increase in intensity as you fall apart on top of him in a sudden climax- pleasure hitting you like a truck and nearly knocking you out. You pant on top of him, trying to catch your breath with your head resting on his chest. He clears his throat after a minute and you shuffle off him, laying your head on the nearby pillow instead.

“Wow. That was…did you not cum?” It occurs to you that you’d just used him for your own pleasure.

“Of course not.” He gruffly responds, legs still spread and cock exposed, glistening with your arousal. “I have self control.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask and he turns to face you.

“You’re like a bitch in heat. It’s not very princess-like of you.”

“Well, I’m not a princess anymore. I’m a Sith Lord’s wife.” You counter.

“Wives don’t ride like that.” You know he didn’t mean it as a compliment but you chose to take it as one anyway.

“Aren’t you going to cover up?” You point at his exposed body while you clutch the crisp white sheets around yourself.

“Why should I?” He snaps back and you’re taken aback by his show of confidence. And you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, I bet you aren’t.”

“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that! It’s unnatural.” You complain.

“I don’t ordinarily pay such close attention to these things but your mind is so dirty.”

“Oh yeah? What have I been thinking about in the last couple minutes then?”

“You’ve been wondering how I’m both a shower and a grower, how you’ve never been so wet before - oh, and how you want to fuck me again.” Your cheeks redden at his painfully accurate observations- and you feel his vulgarity plant a renewed desire within you.

“Really, you want another round? Fine. Hop on.” He sighs, tapping his thigh. You stare at him affectionately with a smile as if to say “really?” and you clamber over him again. You only have to press your dripping body against him once and he quickly hardens again, tip oozing with precum. You waste no time impaling yourself, pussy swallowing him greedily- slightly sore but still stretched out enough to take him with ease.

“Anakin, please.” You mumble, reaching for his hands- needing to feel them on your skin.

“What do you want?” He replies breathily.

“Please, touch me.” You slide up and down his shaft, body racked with delirious pleasure. “Pleasepleaseplease - please Anakin!” He scoffs smilingly at how you’ve been reduced to a needy mess before he’s even put an ounce of effort in. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees and beg- please, touch me just a little, please Ani-“

“Alright, alright, enough!” He stops you and you wince at his harsh tone, wishing that just for once, he’d be gentle with you.

“I’m sorry, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He reaches out and wraps his hands around your dainty waist, right arm gradually trailing up your body. His knuckles brush against your cheek tenderly before he wraps his strong hand around your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss. You squeak in shock at the unexpected affection as your breasts press against his chest, one hand squishing your soft flesh and the other wrapped up in your hair.

“Mmm, Ani.” You hum, your deepest craving finally quelled.

“No one’s called me that in a really long time.” He mumbles into the kiss, sliding both hands down to your ass cheeks and gripping them firmly.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks as he slides you on and off him, commanding your movements with his strong grasp.

“Oh God yes, fuck Ani- ah.” You gasped as he began lifting his hips and fucking his cock into you, fingernails digging into your hips. “‘m not gonna last much longer if you keep go -oh, just like th- aah.”

“You don’t need to.” He whines, finally allowing himself to utter his own sweet sounds.

“Nuh uh, I-I want you to cum with me.” You whimper in his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck. Cradling you, he wraps one arm around your back and rests his other hand on the back of your head while drilling you with such vigour you almost black out.

“Shh, baby, shh- ’s okay.” He moans and your walls flutter at the heavenly sound. Try as you may, you can’t stop the drool that streams out of your mouth, fucked so dumb that you’re losing control over your senses.

“You’re close, can feel you gripping me.” He sputters, barely audible over the sound of your squeals. “You want the whole ship to hear you, huh?”

“I want them all to know who I belong to.” You manage to get out clearly, trying to get a handle on your faculties. Rising up from being tucked into his neck, you start bouncing on him with the excitement of a little bunny, so desperate to bring him to his release. You look down at him, eyes screwed shut, gnawing on his bottom lip and you feel how furiously his eager cock throbs inside you.

“Want you to fill me up.” You warble, dropping your hands to lay on either side of his face, soft locks brushing against your wrists. “I wanna be yours.” You stare into his eyes, which have just fluttered open, eyebrows knitted close together.

“You’re already mine.” He whispers, grabbing you by the waist and turning you over in one swift motion, your back hitting the plumpness of the bed. Before you can take a breath, he slams into you again and your back arches from the overstimulation.

Hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you deeper into him, he roughly pounds against you, cock gliding into your sensitive core. You try to focus yourself, gnawing on your lip and mentally repeating: “You can’t cum this quickly again.”

“Oh yes, you can.” He asserts mischievously, speeding up his sloppy strokes until your eyes roll to the back of your head. You grip the sheets around you, trying desperately to hold on for just a few seconds longer.

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, slapping against you roughly. Beads of sweat trickle down his defined pecs, down to the creamy mess where your bodies meet. With one final gloopy thrust, you scream out his name and collapse entirely, body convulsing with pleasure as he moans at the sight, burying his face into your thigh.

“Goddamn…” You hear him mutter as he continues using your body like a toy, dragging you onto him in a way that you don’t even notice in your cock drunk stupor. You hear a glorious groan escape his lips as he pulls out, painting your body with his creamy white cum.

“Why’d you pull out?” You whine, completely spent and feeling woefully empty now that your bodies weren’t connected anymore.

“You know why.” He exhales as his head hits the pillow beside you. “I refuse to let a child come into this.” You huff a little but feel too exhausted to argue.

Shuffling over, you test his boundaries by leaning your head against his shoulder. When he noticeably stiffens and backs away a little, you sit up hastily to face him.

“Really, Anakin? You’re still not comfortable around me?”

“I’m as comfortable as I need to be.” He murmurs and you let out a fussy whine.

“I’ve just given myself to you entirely and you can’t even hold me after? Please, Ani, you’re making me feel really-“

“Fine! If it’ll get you to be quiet.” He pulls you in swiftly, his strong arm wrapped around you protectively and you let out a satisfied hum while he shakes his head- no doubt wondering how he got stuck with such a petulant child.

The days that followed were full of you waltzing around the ship, lost in your daydreams. Anakin had been dispatched to a different system for a mission and much to your displeasure, wouldn’t return for several days yet; you never knew exactly how long his journeys would last, you only knew they were doubtlessly too long. You missed him dearly - and if the way he hugged you back before he left was any indication- you were growing on him too.

After enthusiastically getting through the book Anakin recommended, he told you that he’d left a stack out by his desk in the library- a personally hand-picked selection that he believed you’d enjoy. Your heart fluttered at the thought and you felt yourself keenly gliding over to it. You reminisced fondly about the way his soft hair felt when it brushed through your hands, how his dreamy eyes made you weak at the knees- how he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. You didn’t realise it was possible for someone to be so perfect- so what if he had an unsavoury pastime? It was a flaw you were willing to overlook if it meant you got to wake up next to that face.

Entering the library, you hum a chirpy song and float over to the desk where you find a neat pile of books in varying colours and sizes. Just as you were about to pick the first one out of the stack, Silas rushes in- scruffy and disorganised, looking over his shoulder.

“Princess! Princess, you must hurry. They’re here- they’re finally here.” He sputters, grabbing onto your wrist like a madman and leading you out.

“Slow down! What’s going on?” You question, wondering why you were running along with him.

“Oh but we must be quick, the stormtroopers can only be held off for so long! Sabe is leading the distraction-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Word finally reached them, they’re finally here!”

“Who? Who’s here?” You shout back, brain spinning in confusion.

“The Senate has sent an army - a rescue team for you!” Silas stares at you with crazed eyes, sweating with anxiety. “We can finally go home!”

“W-what?” You stutter, allowing him to lead you out to the docking bay where you can see a battleship undoubtedly belonging to the Galactic Republic- suspended midair awaiting boarding.

“Wait, wait, no.” You backtrack but the grip Silas has around your wrist is too strong to easily break from.

“You don’t mean to tell me you wish to stay here with that brute?” He glances back at you, face painted with disgust as he pushes on for the last few metres left until you reach the ship. “He doesn’t care about you.”

“That’s not true!” You shout, propellers buzzing over you with a furious intensity.

“Is that so? Then why isn’t he putting up a fight right now?” He gestures behind you and you turn around to where the observatory window is. There he is, standing behind the glass, looking at you calmly.

“Do you see? He doesn’t even care enough to stop you!” Silas digs his fingernails into your wrist as you reach the ship, doors unloading with a steamy hiss. “Get in!” He yells, pushing you forward with all his might.

He’s letting you go. He’s letting you leave.

“No!” You fight back, striking Silas across the face and sprinting out of his reach as soon as his grasp on you loosens.

“You idiot! Stay here and rot with those Sith devils!” He curses, clambering up the stairs and smacking the handle, signalling for them to shut. Tears course roughly down your face as you stand back and see the ship ascending before darting off into the distance in a beaming flash. Turning around, you run as fast as your feet will carry you, scrambling up to the observatory to the man you’d just abandoned life as you knew it for.

Throwing the doors open, you see him: mouth parted, eyebrows raised and a singular tear rolling down his cheekbone. You jump into his arms, colliding and entangling yourself with him.

“Why did you do that, huh?!” He grabs your face with both hands, kissing you desperately. “Why would you do something so stupid?” You break out into a sob as he mumbles against your lips. “I would’ve let you go, you could’ve left.”

“I know, that’s why I stayed.” You wrap your hands around his own, still in a firm grip around your face. “I love you, Ani.” You gaze up at him with such adoration he feels his cold heart bursting.

“I love you too.”

As soon as the words leave his beautiful lips, you leap to kiss them- trying desperately to memorise every detail and every sensation that belonged to this moment.

“I-I thought you would’ve surely left if you could.” He murmurs, struggling to break away from your lips. “Thought you were jus’ making the most out of a bad situation.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You say sincerely, hoping he could feel the love you have for him pouring out of you.

“I don’t believe my eyes.” A dreaded raspy voice resonates across the room. “The Princess has fallen in love with my apprentice. And he seems to love her back? Now this is just precious.” Anakin stands in front of you protectively, pushing you back.

“She will prove to be useful in the future.” The Emperor hisses, glaring at you with an empty hunger in his eyes. “Now that she has demonstrated her loyalty.”

“It’s the last show of loyalty you’ll ever see.” Anakin spits as he draws his lightsaber from the left belt hook on his robes and strikes Palpatine, beheading him in one swift motion before he can even register what’s struck him.

“He always taught me that even the most powerful of enemies can be defeated-“ He turns to face you, retracting his glowing lightsaber. “with the element of surprise.”

A twisted grin creeps up on your face as he swoops you up like a true bride- lifting you with a firm hold and carrying you out of the room while you wrap your arms around his neck, planting kisses all over.

“I think it’s high time me and my wife got some privacy, don’t you think?” He gestures at the incoming stormtroopers, who confusedly back away after spotting Palpatine’s decapitated body. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You giggle as he carries you to your chambers, throwing you onto the bed and peering out of the large doors one last time before shutting them with a loud clamber- ah, free from disturbance at last.

@erinkeifer @crazy4men @mortalheartache @arzua10

#hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #darth vader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #star wars smut #sam monroe #life as a house #anakin x reader smut #anakin fluff #sw anakin #star wars anakin #darth vader smut

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sunsburns · 2 months ago

Text

not you too

pairing: jason todd x ex vigilante!reader

summary: for the first time in a long time, you're hurting, deeply. an old wound that's reopened, the knife that was once there finding its place back between your ribs. jason todd comes to you in the middle of the night, bleeding all over your floor, rubbing salt to an old wound.

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, angst, the good old cleaning the other's wounds after a rough patrol but this one has a little bit of plot and spice to it ngl.

based off of this request

You always try to keep your nights as simple as possible. Working under Commissioner Jim Gordon had its perks, but peace of mind wasn’t one of them. Between juggling case files, analyzing crime scenes, and trying to stay ahead of Gotham’s ever-growing list of threats, your days were more than chaotic.

Gordon, a mentor as much as a boss, trusted you with sensitive information that only a few had access to—and you took that responsibility seriously. What he didn’t know was how deep your connection to Gotham’s vigilantes truly ran.

While Gordon believed in the power of the law, you knew sometimes it wasn’t enough. That’s where Batman came in. Your dual role—an officer of the GCPD by day, and a secret informant for Batman by night—had become second nature. You fed him intel and helped him stay ahead of Gotham’s worst, all while maintaining the facade of loyalty to the department.

You weren't proud about it, but he gave you enough hush money that you don't question it whenever he appears by the office as you leave your later shifts.

Friday nights were your escape. After a week of handling reports, dissecting evidence, and sidestepping questions from Gordon about your mysterious late-night absences, you let yourself disconnect. You skipped the gym after work, came home early, and cooked yourself a proper dinner. By the time the sun set, you were showered, dressed in your comfiest pyjamas, and settled on the couch with a movie.

Tonight was no different. You’d just closed a case with Gordon’s team, a robbery ring, criminals now behind bars, but Gotham never truly rested. Tomorrow would bring another wave of crime, another set of challenges. Still, for now, you had this moment of peace.

The movie droned on in the background as you finished dinner, exhaustion from the week creeping in. Your eyes fluttered shut halfway through, the comfort of your quiet apartment lulling you to sleep. By the time the credits rolled, you were completely out, wrapped in the safety of your little corner of the world.

That is until a faint creak from your window broke the silence.

You stirred groggily, blinking at the clock. It was well past midnight. Gotham was still alive outside—sirens in the distance, the occasional rumble of a motorcycle passing by—but your apartment had fallen into stillness. You stretched, ready to drag yourself to bed, but something wasn’t right.

The creak came again. Your blood ran cold.

Someone was in your apartment.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The faint sound of creaking had stopped, leaving an eerie silence behind, but there—a shadow moved. Your heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you reached blindly for something, anything to defend yourself. The remote was the closest thing at hand. You gripped it tightly, feeling foolish but unwilling to let go, and scrambled to stand.

In the faint glow from the streetlight filtering through the curtains, you finally saw him—a large figure by the balcony door, hunched over, struggling to quietly close the glass behind him. He moved slowly, cautiously, as if he didn’t want to be noticed. But you had already seen enough.

The silhouette was unmistakable.

“Jason.”

His shoulders stiffened at the sound of his name, freezing in place for a second before turning to face you. Even in the darkness, you could feel the weight of his gaze through the red-tinted visor of his helmet, his expression unreadable beneath it.

You lowered the remote slowly, heart still racing, but now for a different reason. “You can’t—you can’t just break in like this,” you stammered, your voice tinged with frustration and worry. You’d seen him do this too many times, yet it never got easier.

He let out a gruff, annoyed sound beneath the helmet, shoulders sagging as he took a step closer. “Not like you were gonna answer the door.” His voice was rough, and the bitterness in his tone was impossible to miss.

Your irritation flared, but then you noticed something—a slight tremor in the way he moved. His steps were sluggish, almost hesitant, and he favoured his right side, trying to mask it.

He wasn’t just annoyed.

He was hurt.

As he stepped out of the shadow, the dim lamp light caught the outline of his armour. That’s when you noticed it—dark stains creeping across the front of his suit, and the way his hand pressed against his side, the faint sound of a pained breath slipping past his otherwise guarded posture.

“You’re bleeding,” you muttered, the frustration quickly giving way to concern. He didn’t respond, his gaze avoiding yours as he leaned back against the wall, clearly uncomfortable with being here. Jason never wanted anyone to see him like this—least of all you.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he grumbled, the words tinged with a mix of guilt and exasperation. “Go to bed. I’ll be out in a minute. Just needed some stuff. Still got that first aid kit?”

You shook your head, taking a cautious step closer, your heart sinking at the sight of him in pain. “Jason, you can’t just—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off sharply, pushing himself off the wall, wincing as the movement aggravated his wound. His stance was defensive like he was already preparing to run before you could offer to help.

But the moment his knees buckled slightly, the tough exterior he was trying to maintain cracked. You could see it in the way his breath hitched, the way he clutched at his side like he was barely holding it together.

He wasn’t here because he wanted to be. He was here because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Jason pulled the mask off his head, his breath coming in sharp gasps as if the helmet had been suffocating him. He tossed it carelessly onto your dining table before glancing at you, his expression tight. “You got it or not?”

His voice startled you into action. “Uh—yeah, I’ve got it.” You scrambled down the hall toward the bathroom, hands shaking as you rifled through the drawers for the first aid kit. His footsteps echoed faintly in your living room, boots heavy against the hardwood. Now that he’d been caught, his presence filled the space in a way that made it impossible to ignore.

You tried to steady your breathing, but it was no use. No matter how many times you’d imagined running into Jason again, it was never like this. In your daydreams, you hoped you’d bump into him on the street, or maybe during work.

There were even moments where you’d foolishly fantasized about seeing him at Wayne Manor, handing over files to Bruce as a favour, only to lock eyes with Jason from across the room. But this? Jason bleeding out on your floor, breaking into your apartment in the middle of the night? This wasn’t what you wanted.

When you returned to the living room, he had already shed his jacket, revealing a deep gash along his side. It was messy, and the blood soaked into the fabric of his suit, leaving dark stains that made your stomach drop.

He’d settled into something uncomfortably familiar—boots kicked off by the door, sitting against the wall like old times, but this time he kept his distance, his body tense.

He didn’t want to be here.

You hesitated as you approached, the kit in your hand. “Jason, let me—”

“I’ve got it.” His voice was sharp, cutting you off as he took the first aid kit from your hands without so much as a glance. His glare kept you at arm’s length, and it hurt. The way he shut you out, even when he was barely holding himself together.

He didn’t trust anyone—not entirely.

Not after everything.

Still, seeing him like this made something twist in your chest. Bleeding and worn down, but too stubborn to ask for help. There was a heaviness in the air, lingering in the silence that stretched between you both. It wasn’t just about tonight—it was everything that had been left unresolved before, all the words that had gone unsaid the last time you’d seen each other. But now, with Jason sitting right in front of you, neither of you dared to speak.

You crouched a few feet away, sitting on the floor across from him, watching as he tried to clean the wound himself. His hand shook slightly, though he tried to hide it, his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth against the pain. It was bad—worse than he was letting on.

“Jason, stop,” you finally said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re gonna make it worse.”

“I don’t need your help,” he bit out, refusing to meet your eyes. “I’ve done this a thousand times.”

He huffed, annoyed, but when he tried to move again, his breath hitched—pain breaking through the cracks of his tough exterior. His hand slipped, and the antiseptic bottle nearly fell from his grip. You didn’t wait for his permission this time. You slid over, taking the kit from his hand.

“Just let me do it,” you murmured, your voice firmer now.

Jason didn’t argue this time, though his jaw was still set in that stubborn way you knew all too well. You could feel the heat branching off him as you gently touched his arm to move it out of the way and clean the wound. His whole body stiffened at the contact like he wasn’t used to being taken care of—or maybe he just didn’t want it.

His eyes shifted to the far wall, jaw clenched even tighter, refusing to meet your gaze, but you caught the way his breath hitched ever so slightly when your hands moved over his skin.

He wasn’t saying anything, but his body told you enough. Every time your fingers brushed a sensitive spot or when the antiseptic stung, his lips pressed into a thinner line. He didn’t flinch exactly, but his posture—rigid, unmoving—betrayed how uncomfortable he was.

You weren’t sure what was harder for him: the wound or the fact that he was letting you help. His pride had always been a barrier, a wall he rarely let anyone get through. Yet here he was, in your apartment, wounded and unwilling to admit just how much he needed you.

As Jason shifted slightly, wincing, you took the moment to observe him. It had been a while since you last saw him, and for a second, you searched for something—anything—that might’ve changed. But he was still Jason. Still, the same stubborn man who couldn’t stay out of trouble. Even that white strand of hair was right where it had always been. He looked older somehow, but not in the way time ages people. It was something deeper, worn into him from the life he led.

And then his eyes flicked up, catching you watching him. For a brief moment, neither of you moved. His gaze softened, just barely, before the guarded look returned as quickly as it had slipped away.

He shifted again, his body tense, and glanced around your apartment—anything to avoid looking directly at you. His gaze lingered on your desk, the files from your latest case scattered across it, and his expression darkened. You could see it in his eyes—a mix of suspicion and something else.

“You’ve been busy,” he muttered, his tone gruff, though the edge in his voice told you there was more to it than a simple observation.

You didn’t look up, keeping your hands steady as you applied pressure to the wound. “You know how it is.”

Jason’s jaw twitched. “Yeah,” he said, his tone sharp. “I know how it is.”

It was a jab, even if it was subtle. You could feel the accusation hanging between the lines of his words. He wasn't just talking about your busy schedule—he was digging at the gap between you two, at all the things neither of you had addressed. Your loyalty to Batman. Your work with Gordon.

A little fucking traitor to everything Jason worked for.

You sighed, pressing a little harder than necessary to make a point. “You’re not here for that, Jason.”

He winced, and you almost felt bad. Almost. But the look in his eyes—calculated, like he was searching for the truth behind every move you made—made your chest tighten. His silence was louder than anything he could’ve said.

“You’re not going to ask why I’m here?” His voice was softer now, but there was a bitterness to it. He knew you weren’t stupid. He wasn’t here by choice, and you both knew it. You wanted to ask, but what was the point? Jason never came to you for help, never came to anyone unless he had no other option.

“I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready,” you replied quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. His presence in your home felt heavier than the blood on your hands.

He scoffed, shifting to take the bandage from your hand. “Don’t hold your breath.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, hovering just above his skin. You could feel the heat radiating from him, a reminder of just how close you were to crossing a line neither of you dared to acknowledge. He was still the same Jason, still stubborn as hell, but the space between you felt like it had grown into a chasm. One you weren't sure either of you could cross without everything falling apart.

“Why are you really here, Jason?” you asked, giving in. He was a wanted man, or at least Red Hood was. If you were up to it, you could have him arrested within seconds.

His eyes snapped up, the guarded expression faltering for a moment before his usual defiance returned. “It’s not like I had a lot of options,” he admitted, though the words felt forced like he was offering you an excuse instead of the truth.

“I thought you always had a plan,” you said, words sharper than you intended. “Or is that just another thing you’ve changed your mind about?”

He flinched, and for a second, you regretted saying it. But the hurt between you two had been simmering for too long. His loyalty was always a wild card, and yours? Well, Jason had never forgiven you for staying close to the people he had walked away from.

Jason’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk, but close. “The Bat keeping you on a tight leash?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or is it Gordon now?”

You stiffened, the accusation hitting home more than you liked. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, knowing it sounded weak but unwilling to offer more. It was always the same with Jason—he pushed, prodded, and pulled at the places you tried to protect.

“Yeah, right. Because we both know where your loyalties lie,” Jason snapped, his tone harsher now. His eyes bore into you like he was searching for something—anything—that would confirm his suspicions. That you’d chosen Batman over him. That you were still working with the people who had crossed him.

“I didn’t betray you,” you said quietly, though even as you said it, the words felt hollow. You didn’t know if you believed them anymore.

Jason let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. There was too much between you, too many things left unsaid, and no amount of stitching his wounds would ever fix that. He was right, in a way. You hadn’t chosen him—not when it counted.

Not when he needed you. And for what? For comfort? A little bit of safety? An alliance with Batman? A raise at work? The questions ran through your mind like jagged edges. It wasn’t that simple, but neither of you had ever really said the things that needed to be said back then, too busy trying to fix things that did not need fixing.

His breathing had become more laboured as you worked, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The wound you were treating was deep, and too close to critical areas for comfort.

Jason’s hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling into fists as if he was fighting the pain, refusing to show just how much it hurt. But you could see it in the way his body trembled under your touch—he was reaching his limit.

“Let me finish,” you said, your tone softer, more insistent. "Stop fighting me."

For once, he didn’t argue. His jaw unclenched, his shoulders slackened slightly, and his eyes—usually so guarded—softened just enough to show how exhausted he really was. Physically, emotionally, all of it. He wasn’t invincible, and tonight, that truth was catching up with him faster than he could hide.

You moved closer, hands brushing against his skin as you worked quickly, trying to keep your focus. His skin was warm, slick with sweat and blood, and the faintest tremor ran through his frame as your fingers traced the edge of the wound. But the closeness was unnerving—both of you acutely aware of each other in a way that made the room feel smaller.

You caught his eyes as you reached for more gauze, and for a split second, neither of you looked away. His gaze burned into you, full of unspoken questions, of things he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say. And for the first time, you wondered if you weren’t the only one who had felt betrayed.

But you’d both been wrong. You could see it now, in the way his eyes darkened with unsaid accusations, in the way your heart ached with unresolved regret. You thought you were protecting him by walking away—by choosing the safer path, Batman’s path. And Jason, with all his reckless defiance, had been too far gone in his need for vengeance to understand why you couldn’t follow him down that road.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “I can’t trust anyone anymore.”

Your fingers stilled, hovering just above his chest. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you.

"I never asked you to trust me," you whispered, the words hanging precariously on the line between honesty and regret.

But the truth was, you wanted him to. More than anything.

Jason’s lips tightened into a thin line, and for a moment, you thought he might push you away. His muscles tensed beneath your touch as if bracing himself for another fight. His hand twitched, lifting halfway like he was going to shove you back, but he stopped.

The strain was written all over his face now, and you could see his breathing growing more ragged. His eyes were slipping out of focus, and you noticed the faint green glow flickering at the edges of his irises—Lazarus. It was always there, a reminder of how far he’d gone, how close to the edge he still was.

“Jason…” you said quietly, watching the pain ripple through him. He was losing consciousness, slipping into the darkness despite his stubborn refusal to admit it. His hand finally dropped, brushing against your arm before it hit the floor, the strength leaving him in waves.

“Just… get it over with,” he rasped, his voice cracking.

You pressed the final bandage into place, your hands gentle now, more careful. For a moment, you let your fingers linger, brushing against the rough skin of his shoulder as you finished. His breathing was shallow, but steady, his eyes fluttering shut. The tension drained from his body as the exhaustion finally won, leaving him vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen in a while.

It reminded you of when he used to sleep beside you. Jason had always been restless, even in sleep, twisting in the sheets, his mind never fully at ease. But there had been nights when he would finally relax, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, his head resting against your chest like he found his peace there, with you. You remembered how you’d stroke that same shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin as you whispered for him to rest, that you were there, watching over him.

And yet, here you were, caring for him again.

He stirred slightly, a soft grunt escaping his lips as he adjusted, trying to find a position that eased the pain. His face softened with the kind of weariness that came from more than just the physical strain. You watched his chest rise and fall, the quiet sound of his breath mingling with the hum of the city outside.

Jason’s hand twitched again, brushing against your knee, his fingers grazing your skin with a familiar yet distant touch. It made your heartache.

There was a time when you would’ve done anything to keep him safe, to protect him from the world—and from himself. But now, all you could do was sit there, hands still resting against his skin, wondering if either of you could ever come back from this.

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lanabuckybarnes · 6 months ago

Text

Princess Treatment

18+ MINORS DNI

It’s been a few days since Princess had her first punishment from Bucky. She tried to avoid him like the plague whenever she could, but not for the reason he assumed.

Pairing: Bodyguard! Bucky x Brat! (Not so) Reader (Princess)

Warnings: Brat Taming, Masturbation (F), Whipped Princess, Crying, Soft Dom! Buck this time, Fingering, Oral (F), Praise Kink, Slight Overstim, A Lil Angsty, Princess is insecure, AFTERCARE (because it’s important)

Word Count: 1.8k

He scowled as once again, as soon as the doors to her penthouse opened she slinked off to her bedroom, not even bothering to pull off her heels. He’d thought a lot about the other day; he was probably too harsh on her, he should’ve eased her into it but she royally pissed him off with her defiant attitude as he pulled her from the sweaty crowd of drunken adults, she’d even spat in his face, the nail in the coffin.

But he hated the fact she didn’t want to be around him.

He sipped on the amber bourbon, hissing slightly at the expensive burn it caused down his throat before he tucked his lips into his mouth, deep in thought about how to best approach the situation he found himself in.

On the other side of the house, Princess whimpered into a clammy hand as her other ventured under her slicked panties. She’d been so good for him, curling into bed with throbbing want after he pushed her away - she’d tried the morning after to get herself off but there was a heavy weight of guilt that laid on her shoulders, causing her to slip her finger away from herself and finish up in the shower, unsatisfied again.

She was convinced he’d give her what she wanted after the second day. She’d been so sweet to him, making him tea in the morning, ordering him breakfast and even having his suit ironed by her personal maid but by dinner time her hope was wearing thin. Her book lay open on her lap but she’d be lucky to have read even the first paragraph, her eyes too busy gazing at each miniature movement Bucky made, a spike of excitement shooting up her spine each time his pink tongue ran over his plush lower lip, settling into the side of his mouth before slipping back into its place behind his teeth; each bob of his Adam’s apple as his favourite alcohol slipped down his throat.

But he stood with a groan, eyes glancing over at her nonchalantly and a gruff ‘goodnight’ falling from his mouth had that burning fire in her stomach quelled quick. She was becoming increasingly frustrated by the lack of attention he was giving her and began to shut herself away for her own good. Being around him too much was not good for her sanity.

Which led to now.

She’d been out at an event, her daddy couldn’t make it and tasked her with showing her pretty face instead, it was simple work she’d done before, give a couple charming smiles, kiss a couple of cheeks and drink a couple glasses of champagne - that was before the addition of Bucky into her life.

She knew it was for her own safety when he manoeuvred her away from the only set of windows that she could’ve easily been shot at from, but his warm hand scalded her hip as he did it, the fingers squeezing in innocent reassurance but finally being touched by Bucky had her mind going dumb already. He’d continued to move her around with unassuming hands on her body the entire night until she was so sure she wouldn’t make it home in one piece. Thankfully she didn’t lose her marbles until her back connected with the soft sheets of her bed, her dress discarded on the floor and her hand cupping her heated core.

“F-fuck” Her breath hitched as her middle finger swirled slowly around her hard little pearl; its lack of action recently made it much more sensitive to her gentle touch. Her ring finger joined as she spread her legs wider; a guttural moan almost falling unchecked from her mouth but thankfully being suppressed by the soft feathers of her pillow.

She thought of his fingers instead; how rough would he be? Would he circle her clit delicately or would he maintain that rough dominant attitude from a few nights prior and leave her sopping pussy sore with hard spanks. No doubt he’d punish her, fuck her throat again and release all over her face before shoving her away and disappearing into his room, after all, that’s all he wanted, a stupid little girl who’d be at his beck and call, who’d open wide and gag around his length until he was satisfied.

Her free hand hooked around the waistband of her undies, pulling him unceremoniously until they stretched around her thighs before slipping off easily past her knees. She kept up her ministrations, hips bucking up to meet every flick of her fingers, soft moans and pleads of something she knew was unattainable escaping her mouth, her eyes rolling back into her head.

She didn’t even hear the door click open.

Bucky watched the sight in front of him, his princess getting herself off while she chanted his name. He expected himself to be upset at the sight but he felt guilty more than anything; he knew he’d gone too long and it caused her to break his rule. He sat down on the edge of the bed, only after feeling the sinking of the mattress did her eyes shoot open, a frightened gasp ripping from her throat and her hand flying from its spot.

“Oh my - I’m so sorry…I-I tried my best but you weren’t…I waited so long I c-couldn’t hold back” he frowned at just how frantically she apologised, her legs slapping shut, tears welling in her eyes at the thought of her impending punishment. She froze when instead of harsh words his big hand cupped the side of her face, thumb swiping up and escaping tears.

“Shhh it’s ok princess I know, I know, you did so well” he praised, mouth quirking up into a soft, gentle smile.

“Y-you’re not mad?” She stuttered in response.

“Uh-uh angel it’s my fault, was just tryna see how long I could push you but I pushed you too far, I’m sorry baby” She didn’t know how to feel about this Bucky; she enjoyed the soft touches and sweet words but it was such a far cry from the hard dom she’d dealt with before.

“Lemme help you ok princess, you deserve it for lasting so long, you want my help?” His words wobbled slightly at the end, slight hints of insecurity bubbling as he spoke, he wanted so badly to help her but he knew she had every right to tell him to fuck off - but she nodded, wide eyes unblinking and legs falling open.

“My rules are still in place sweet thing” he reminded, hand running soothingly up and down her thigh.

“I want your help Buck please” she gasped when his thick fingers resumed her circling, pressing firmer than she had. She watched him through lidded eyes; the way he took his time unravelling each part of her, his eyes moving from between her legs, up over her tummy to her soft breasts. He cupped one in his hand, thumb circling over the nipple softly eliciting soft whines from her.

“That feel good baby?” He mouthed along from her knee to her mid-thigh, sucking softly before kissing the bruising skin.

“Mhmm…want your fingers in me Buck” she hesitated for a beat, silently hoping it wasn’t too demanding but when his fingers sunk to his knuckles she thanked the heavens for his leniency. He thrust in and curled out, the pads of his fingers hitting that sweet spot every time, juices pooling out around his digits and down the crevice of her cheeks until settling on her sheets. She was dangerously close; his hot breath fanning over her folds not helping at all.

“Want you to tell me when you’re gonna come ok, you gotta ask permission, princess?” His dark eyes flicked up to hers, a chuckle forming on her lips as she nodded her head instead of using her words - she was lucky he was feeling so bad.

An almost pornographic sob left her when his tongue flattened over her hardened nub, vibrating with a growl he let out at her taste.

“Mmm tastes so good angel” he groaned against her, suckling up any sweetness decorating her lips. She was a mess, pussy clenching frantically on his quickening fingers, drool gathering and wetting the pillowcase beneath her head as she ground her body against his face, an image of her sweaty body crawling up the tallest mountain in the world, hands bleeding as she gripped at rocks, feet slipping but she kept going until she finally reached that summit, but something in her brain stopped her from jumping off just yet.

“Mm ohhh Buck I’m close, please gotta come…can I Bucky? Can I come?” She cried, eyes cracking open to look at him pleadingly.

“Come princess, let it go, let it all go for your Bucky” he rambled against her heat, moaning unabashedly as more of her slick sweetness slipped from her clenching hole, being sucked up by his tongue.

She had no idea how long she lay there writhing, orgasm seemingly never-ending. She came to from the feeling of Bucky’s fingers still thrusting weekly into her, helping her through her pleasure.

“Ah s-stop too much” She pushed against his bicep and he relented, pulling his sopping fingers from her winking cavern and cleaning them off in his mouth.

“You did so well for me princess, so fucking good” he lauded, kissing up her neck and jaw before planting his lips on her bitten ones.

“I’m sorry” she sobbed, emotions on full blast because of the assault her shuddering orgasm had on her nerves. He shushed her softly, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, assuring her she had nothing to be sorry for. He pulled her up into his arms, lifting her frame off the bed and carrying her into the en-suite adjoined to her room. He placed her aching body delicately into the warm sudded water he’d prepared in mere minutes.

She’d quietened after he scrubbed her expensive body wash over her body, paying close attention to any stiff knots he felt along the way. She turned to him with something intelligible swirling in her eyes.

“Are you proud of me?” Her voice was weak, raspy from overuse. He almost cooed out loud at the adorable little expression adorning her features, but he could sense something deeper crawling around there too.

“Of course princess, even when you act like a spoiled brat I’m proud of you…you take your punishments so well and you’re always so sweet after” he leaned forward and snatched her lips in his again.

The answer seemed to satisfy her for the time being but he knew it wouldn’t be the end of questions like that. Suddenly that simple bodyguard role for the world's brattiest women was starting to feel more like protecting the most misunderstood woman he’d ever met, and it boiled the pot of possessiveness that had sat cold in Bucky for a long time.

I had something else planned to post today but I'm not happy with it so you can have some Princess and Bucky because you have been denied. This was written a while ago and dedicated to the anon in my asks who asked for Princess and Bucky filth months ago 💚

I hope you enjoyed, any likes, reblogs and comments are well appreciated and I’d love any asks telling me your thoughts about these two or anything else that comes to mind. I'm a certified yapaholic.

1K notes · View notes

forsongqian · 2 years ago

Photo

Front Door Mudroom in Orange County

#a large entryway photo in the beach style with a dark wood front door and blue walls. dark wood #door entry sets #home safety & security #swirled glass #arched entry #transom window #keyless entry

0 notes

servicpop · 2 months ago

Text

kinktober extra — gun play leon s. kennedy x bttm male reader

ⓘ neighbour (slight ooc) leon ! clothed leon naked reader ! he puts the gun up your ass

The outbreak was doing you no good, and the fact that you were all alone when all went to hell wasn't helping much either. However, being locked in the safety of your home gave you time to hideout while the worst washed over. Though eventually, you were forced outside to scavenge for food. Unlocking your front door as delicate as tip toeing around a sleeping lion, you quietly stepped outside the comfort of your home.

You were fortunate enough to be greeted with desolate streets; only the occasional ripped up paper or trash rolled across the ground. You had almost nothing, not even a gun, just a baseball bat you bought awhile ago to play with your friends once, only to never touch it again until now. At least you took the time to impale nails to add a little more offense to your weapon.

After some soft crunching of gravel under your feet and walking through eerily quiet roads, you were met with a convenience store. The neon signs were busted and didn't glow anymore but you were able to make out some un-raided shelves behind the shattered windows.

You pushed on the front door, the quiet jingle of the door opening made you jump out your skin for a second, why'd the bell still work despite everything else being broken? You tried to keep your footsteps light, navigating around the fallen shelves and racks on the floor. Seeing a few canned foods still untouched and packets of chips as well as some beverages, you felt a twinge of relief wash over you. This was probably enough for you to not go outside for a few weeks.

You decided to walk behind the register, searching for some candy or others that would be stocked there. With no luck your eyes met the employees only door, slightly ajar. Clutching your bat in your right hand, you slowly opened the door before you were met with a light tap on your forehead. A gun, held by a blonde man who seemed to have seen it all.

“A survivor? I feel like its been ages since I've seen another living human being,” He sighed, lowering his weapon and pulling you into the room by your arm. You felt him pause abruptly once getting a good look at your face and you blinked away your initial fear upon having a gun pointed to your head.

“Oh, you're my neighbour aren't you?” The corners of Leon's lips twitched into a slight curve but not enough to be counted as a wholehearted smile.

“Leon? I thought everyone in the neighbourhood turned,” You on the other hand couldn't help but smile seeing a familiar face after fully believing you were the only human left on earth. You take a small glance around the room, noting the equipment stuffed into one corner and a makeshift sleeping bag as well as a first aid kit that had been visibly used.

You knew he was an agent from having small chats over the fence, and from the looks of things, even those who undergo arduous training suffered — even if it was a little bit more bearable for them than others.

Leon's grip eventually loosens and he turns his back to you as he walks to the far wall, sliding down against it into a seated position. From here, the bandaged up gash on his side peeks out from the rips of his shirt. That's why the glass was as broken as it was, it was a sign of Leon's fight with the undead.

Following in his footsteps you go to sit down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest as you turn to look at him. His eyebags have never been darker and there's a frown that stains his face. Leon breaks the silence while pulling his knee up to rest his arm on it, his gun clacking as he moved.

“So, it's just you?” He questions, and you can hear the awkwardness in his voice. He's never been a good talker, everytime you met him while on a walk thr conversations usually ended with a quick excuse to pull away from it. You blame it on him having to see more horrors than the average person.

“Is that a bad thing?” You mean it in a playful way, placing your hands over your knees as a cushion for your cheek to rest on. You almost burst out laughing when you see Leon tense and you can practically see the panic that he's offended you in his eyes.

“No— No, not at all,” he tries to defend himself.

“Would you rather that flower girl who lives down the street?” It's a running joke that the neighbourhood shares of Leon that the big, cold agent is in love with the soft, florist girl.

He shoots you a glare, one that shows just how many times he's heard it over and over again. Instead of replying, he turns his head with a scoff like a bunny stomping its foot angrily. You brush it off as well after seeing his lack of a response and your eyes draw to the gun that's still held firmly in Leon's hand. It would be handy for you to learn how to use one since the bat won't always be useful.

“Do you think you could maybe teach me how to use that?” You ask almost hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers in a nervous habit.

“The gun?” Leon questions, tilting the gun so he could look at it properly. One part of him doesn't want you to use it, it creates an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach seeing a guy like you hold such a murderous weapon. The other part knows it's for the best, for your own protection when he has to part ways with you. After a minute of just staring at the gun, he finalises his decision.

“Sure, I guess you'll need it in the future,” he groans as he stands back up, hand on his thigh like he was an old man getting up from his rocking chair. He tousels his wispy blonde hair, combing it back with his fingers before focusing his attention on you.

His thick black eyelashes flutter as he stares at your face for a second, walking up to you and caging your hands in his. He guides your hands to the pistol, letting you feel the cold metal to familiarise yourself. He doesn't say a thing while he lets you feel the barrel and the grip. The grip feels almost scratchy which he lightly scoffs at your expression when your fingers ghosted over the texture.

“That's why my hands are all calloused,” he faces his palm up, showing you his toughened palm while he flexes his fingers.

“You have to hold it like this, firm grip, two hands.” Leon helps to guide your hands in place, adjusting your fingers and your wrist.

He whispers under his breath “Just like that,” watching as you hold the gun straight, aiming at the blank wall. You know it's best not to fire, though, that would attract whatever monster lays outside. The gun trembles, shaking like a stripped leaf, and you realise that your hands are quivering. You're not cut out for this. You feel the weight of Leon's hand lower the gun and he gently slips the weapon away from your hands and into his.

“You have to get desensitised to it, who knows what might happen without me,” Leon's eyebrows furrow and his nose creases from the pure thought of you getting captured and held at gun-point. It wasn't far from what could actually happen either considering the law was disregarded the moment people started eating eachothers brains.

Leon raises the pistol and presses the muzzle to your adams apple, feeling it bob from your swallows.

“Does it scare you?” It's not a threatening statement, it's him asking how you really feel having the gun pressed up against your skin. The hitch of your breath goes unnoticed as Leon drags the pistol lower to your chest. With the way he's looking down, you can see his dark eyelashes, a sliver of his muted blue iris' peeked through. He really was handsome.

“Or is it because you trust me that much?” The question jolts you out of your little trance, he was only your neighbour yet you didn't seem to react in fear when he held the gun to you.

“Maybe,” you breath out, letting your gaze flutter to the pistol dragging down your chest. Leon pulls it away before bringing it up and tapping the flat side of the barrel against your cheek. There's a certain look in his eyes, its almost pitiful like a hunter watching the deer caught in the net lay completely still, unfazed.

Leon leans closer to your face, his nose practically brushing against yours. You could almost make out the faint breaths if you listened close enough and you see his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he swallowed thickly.

“I think you're liking this a little too much,” he mutters, tilting his head slightly to the right as he looks down at you, his hair falling to the direction he moves his head at. The way Leon speaks now is hushed, sultry even. He's only half joking, he sees the way your eyelids flicker a little too rapidly when he glides the muzzle over your clothes.

Your face flushes, realising that he's caught on your little inner turmoil.

“It's just the adrenaline.” You swallow your lie like it's medication; it's hard to go unnoticed when you so obviously gulp. It's not fully a lie though — you've read in a previous article things like erections can happen due to adrenaline. You squeeze your eyes shut, almost like you're preparing to be scolded by Leon.

But all you're met with is a small sigh and a shake of his head.

“If you want it, do it quickly, we won't have time to indulge in distractions in the heat of things.” Your eyes fling open, caught off guard by the fact that the Leon, your neighbour, just gave you the greenlight. You look up at him through your lashes and he returns your gaze with a small glint of reciprocating desire. The absence of an opportunity for sex really catches up when you're surrounded by infected and never in a safe position.

Before you can even say anything, Leon is already slipping off your shirt; your jacket had already been discarded when you entered the employee's only room. He takes a moment to skim over your naked body, observing all the dips and curves, and the fact that your blush reaches all the way down to your shoulders. He brushes the muzzle over your chest, and upon seeing you shiver at the coolness, a smirk quirks on his lips.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,”

You whine, gripping his forearm in a lousy attempt to stop him from rubbing the metal on your nipple. It doesn't stop him though, he gently grazes your perky buds, chuckling softly as he watches your eyebrows knit from the feeling.

“Sorry then,” he hums with amusement coloring his tone. Leon's breath becomes shallower as he trails the gun down along the line in the middle of your abdomen, all the way down to your pants.

“You're going to be the death of me,” He grunts out, delicately guiding you to lean against the wall. His arm is wrapped so securely around your back like a warm embrace. The warmth of his arm around your bare back shields you from the frigid material of the wall but the second he slips it away from you your back arches off uncomfortably.

“Bare it,” Leon pushes you back against the wall and you whimper at the cold. Its somewhat cruel how he's doing this but you understand its to get your body used to the harsh changes in environments. He mumbled small praises that are inaudible to your ears but you can barely make out the words 'good boy.'

His fingers tug at your zipper, pulling it down but you reach out to stop him, noticing how he's not taking any of his clothes off. Like he was reading your mind, Leon scoffs with a small smirk.

“I can't, it's too risky to have to put anything on if we get ambushed,” He links his fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your boxers, stretching it out a bit before pulling them down to rest at your mid thigh.

“But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself,” He places one arm at the side of your head, caging it in, and his other weilds the pistol. He can't take off his clothes so he can't fuck you properly but he resorts to using his gun instead. It's shameless with the way he's spreading the soft flesh of your thighs apart with a gun like he was slotting his dick between them.

His eyes aren't on you, they're on your body, carefully sliding the hunk of metal against your hole. It almost hurts with how dry and cold the metal feels against your skin but you don't complain. Leon muses when he sees your cock twitch when he slides the muzzle up from the base to your pink tip. He quirks an eyebrow at you, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Feels weird doesn't it? Promise once we're out of this shithole I'll give you everything you want,” Again, Leon goes off about something in the future. He's thinking of a future with you after things smooth over, you can't help but bite back the small moan you were going to let out. His bangs are now covering his eyes when he returns his gaze to your lower half.

Your hips instinctively move against the barrel of the gun, sliding yourself against it. Its like the pleasure is almost there but not really, its left you struggling to find good friction. Leon notices your strangled whines and contorted face and he feels slightly guilty for not being able to give you the relief you definitely need.

He spits on the gun, lubing it up and taking a mental note to polish and clean it afterwards. Leon tilts the muzzle up, wriggling it past your tight rim. When the tip of gun enters you, you gasp, straightening your body from the foreign object being stuffed in your ass.

“Leon—” your voice cracks.

“Trust me.”

He can hear the slight panic in your voice and his palm moves to cover your eyes. You're squirming, unsure of whether to lean in or pull away from the sensation. He pushes himself up against you to keep you still since his hands are already full. Leon groans gently at how much warmth he can feel seeping into his clothes from your body heat.

He slowly pushes the gun further, tuning into the soft squelching sounds of the metal making its way through your walls. Leon couldn't deny that he was a bit jealous of how his pistol was able to feel your wet walls clenching around it rather than himself.

“Shit, you're taking it better than I thought,” He grumbled under his breath, thrusting the metal into you, attempting to push it even deeper to find your sweet spot. Leon finally moved his hands from your eyes and placed his hand on your waist, extending his thumb to rub circles over your stomach. He twists the gun inside you, flushing against your prostate. The sudden jolt of pleasure caused you to cry out and reach to grab his shoulders.

He pushed against your prostate a few times, observing how your eyes would water with each thrust and how your teeth would bite down even harder on your bottom lip the more he hit that specific spot. He slowly pulled the gun fully out with a small pop.

“Didn't know that would work,” He joked lightly, slotting the gun between your legs once more and squeezing your thighs together. He threw the gun from one hand into the other, gripping the pistol in his left hand. Leon slid his ring and middle finger alongside your ass, dipping down the curve to meet your already stretched hole. He dipped his fingers inside, already burying his fingers up to his knuckles.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling his fingers up to press against the deepest parts of you. Leon dragged the gun back and forth between your thighs, letting you hump the metal like a dog.

“Attaboy,” he chuckled darkly, moving his fingers faster, practically slapping his palm against your tail bone as he fingered you from behind. Pre-cum started to bead off your slit and smeared all over Leon's gun.

“You're already getting so wet,” he shook his head, feigning disappointment as he moved the gun to trace your tip, ghosting over your skin.

You whined and thrashed from the ticklish sensation, but when you tried to lean away from it, you ended up pushing up against Leon's fingers, letting them reach even deeper.

“Leon,” you mewl, gripping his shoulders desperately as your dick twitches feverishly. “'M gonna cum.”

Your soft whimpers undoubtedly got his dick hard and he swore if you kept up with the whining he'd really just take off his pants and fuck the life out of you. Leon didn't respond, he just swallowed a groan and curled his fingers to your prostate.

Feeling that familiar spark in your veins, your body convulsed and you let out a high-pitched moan, blanking out as you shot ropes of cum out, dirtying Leon's gun with white.

“I got you, I got you, don't worry,” He felt your legs give out and quickly caught you, letting you lean on him while you came down from your high. Leon pulled the gun from your legs, turning it side to side and watching as your semen dripped down the sides.

Would it even work anymore?

#servicpop — fics/drabbles #bottom male reader #male reader #amab reader #leon x male reader #leon kennedy x male reader #resident evil x male reader #mlm nsft #x bottom male reader #kinktober 2024 #gun play

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perlelune · 11 months ago

Text

Cruel Summer | Felix Catton

Your mother's money issues make it hard for you to enjoy your summer at Saltburn. Thankfully your cousin is there to comfort you. But what happens when you realize his interest in you isn't just familial concern?

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Start! Reader, Incest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Corruption, Innocent Reader, Drugs, Smoking, Filming

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your eyes round as they absorb the massive castle and the vast, lush gardens surrounding it. As you drag your suitcase behind you, you can’t quell the urge to admire everything. Even the towering, perfectly symmetrical trees lining the path to the iron gates. It’s been years since you visited Saltburn, but you don’t remember it being so big or intimidating.

Still, you bask in the chirping of birds and the brightness of the sky above you. You’re compelled to admit it. The English countryside is lovely, a haven away from the pollution and noise of the city. A sharp contrast to the familiar chaos you’re used to back home. The uproar of traffic, from the honking to the shouting. The endless stream of people strutting down the streets. The gigantic ads and the skyscrapers that graze the stars.

A city that never rests or stops for anyone.

While this is home, it all can be so overwhelming. There never is time to just…breathe and be. Here, as you look at your surroundings, you figure it’s all there is to do. Breathe and be.

You push the small iron door on the side, astonished to find it ajar. Did they leave it open for you? You doubt it however. From what Mom told you, consideration for others isn’t one of your aunt and uncle’s strong suits. They’re too wrapped up in their “posh little world”. One your mom isn’t a part of anymore. And neither are you, as you’ve been raised overseas.

As for your brother…well he’s another matter. Shipped from school to school thanks to Uncle James’ “bottomless well of generosity”, he is a free spirit. Seas apart from you in every possible way.

Ever since you were young, the pressure to succeed has gripped you tight and never released you. When others partied and experimented, you were nose deep in your books, stressing over finishing every assignment on time and acing every test. It paid off. You were accepted into your school of choice this summer, with a scholarship no less.

Slacking off isn’t an option for you.

While your brother has a sort of safety net, you’re not so close with that side of your family. You’re their estranged American niece, one they haven’t seen in over a decade.

In fact, you’ve no idea how you’ll be received.

The long walk to the castle is harrowing but gives you time to comb through your memories. You were so little the last time you visited. Still, foggy remembrance floods your thoughts. You played with your cousins by the pond. Made up stories and ran around the fields. You even faintly recall skinning your knees when one of them dared you to try and climb all the way to the top of the stone stairs beneath the stained glass window. You slipped for a long time and wept on the floor, you think. Auntie Elspeth scolded her children and you for playing dangerous games.

Their cherubic faces flicker in your mind.

There were two of them.

A little boy with dark hair and a gummy smile. A blonde girl who giggled all the time. And of course, your brother.

When you’ve reached the castle’s front door, you suck in a wide breath. Before you can even knock on the tall, black doors, they swing open in front of you.

A surprised exhale spills from your throat.

Swallowing, you fall back.

Hands behind his back, a stern man in a suit runs his gaze over you. He is so still, for a minute, you wonder if he’s real.

But then he speaks. “Are you lost, miss?” he asks.

You shift, a surge of inadequacy filling you. Still, you clear your throat and give a tremulous answer.

“Hi. I…I’m here to visit my family.”

The man doesn’t budge, still pinning you with his unflinching stare. Sweat breaks out on your back. Are you at the right place?

“The Cattons,” you offer, an awkward smile stretching your lips. “My brother should already be here.” You start rummaging through your backpack to pull out a map. “This is Saltburn, right? Auntie Elspeth sent me the itinerary but perhaps I-”

He cuts you off, seeming almost annoyed with you.

“Right, you’re…earlier than we expected, Ms. Start.”

“I could come back later-”

“The gates aren’t open. We’d have sent someone to pick you up.”

You glance back, dumbfounded. The gates were definitely open, weren’t they? Or perhaps that little door wasn’t supposed to be crossed. Your cheeks flame. The elaborate rules your wealthy relatives abide by are already eluding you.

Your shoulders heave and fall.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that long a walk.”

The man stiffly allows you in. You note the two black men standing by the door. They haven’t uttered a single word, blending into the background. Always seen but never heard. You believe your brother mentioned something like that in his sporadic texts and letters. Your gaze tears from them. The inside of Saltburn is even more majestic, a thing you didn’t think possible. Standing in a museum wouldn’t be much different, you suppose, between the antiques sitting on shelves, paintings hanging on the walls and crystal chandeliers hovering above you.

So, this is what generational wealth looks like.

When you were little, you didn’t notice this. You were too busy playing. Now, it’s all you can see.

“Just leave your bag there. Someone will get it for you,” the man says.

“Someone, as in…”

“Someone,” he repeats, staunchly refusing to elaborate.

The grip on the handle of your suitcase tightens.

“I really don’t need it. I can carry it myself.”

The man considers you, his face twitching as if you just spat in it. Your insides stir in confusion. All you’ve said is that you don’t mind carrying your own luggage.

The loud utterance of your name has your head snapping sideways.

Your mouth falls open when a towering, young man in a yellow shirt around your age strides in your direction.

He halts in front of the stern man, chiding him with a playful lilt in his tone.

“Really Duncan? You’re scaring the poor girl. Duncan, stop being so terrifying. She’s family.”

“Well, I shall try.”

You note the subtle warmth in the man’s tone as he addresses the newcomer.

He turns to you, beaming. Your stomach flutters. “Cousin, try not to be too terrified of Duncan.”

You’re taken aback when he grabs the hand gripping the suitcase. His large hand completely engulfs yours.

“I’ll show her to her room. Don’t worry,” he chimes. He pulls you away and you’re forced to keep up with his long, enthusiastic strides. He tosses you a glance, laughing when you sort of hop behind him. “Sorry about that. Duncan’s a bit odd, but he’s alright, you’ll see.”

“And you are…?”

Disappointment creeps on his face at your question. He spreads a hand over his chest.

“Felix, your cousin. Golly, you don’t remember me? Really? That kind of hurts.”

Your eyes grow. The picture in your mind was that of a chubby-cheeked, clumsy little boy. Your cousin definitely isn’t that anymore.

“Oh my god, yes! Felix. You don’t have a lisp anymore and…You’re like a giant now.”

A smug expression lights his features.

“Puberty.”

You laugh in response. “Yeah, I guess we all grew up.”

A strange glint fleets across his gaze as he gives you a quick once over.

“Clearly,” he says, his smile expanding.

He shows you around the estate. You can’t suppress your awe when he mentions Henry VIII, surprised Saltburn’s history stretches that far back. The library also radiates ancient and priceless, countless rare leather-bound books sitting on the shelves. A smile creeps on your face when Felix greets the ghost of your grandmother.

He takes you through a vertiginous amount of hallways until taking you to what will be your room. It’s apparently right next to Venetia’s. You glance around, expecting another long lost cousin to pop up perhaps. But it’s just you and Felix in the vast bedroom.

He leans against the doorjamb while you soak in the room and the massive bed, large enough to welcome three or four people. It’s nothing like your tiny bed at home or the one in your college dorm. This is something you never had, and that is just Felix and Venetia’s normal. It makes you speechless.

You drop your backpack on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The mattress bounces as you plop down on it. You let your fingers skim over the blissfully soft sheets.

Your contemplation is abbreviated by the ringing of your phone. You flip it open. The screen lights up, signaling a new message received. You type on the glowing arrows to find out it’s from Mom.

Remember to ask your aunt and uncle for what we talked about.

I really need you, sweetie.

You unleash a heavy breath. Your mom is the one who pressured you to go on this trip. Ever since her brother’s regular payments have dried up, your mother’s been relentless. She keeps claiming she wants her share of the trust and your uncle argues that she used all of it. First, she recruited Farleigh to speak on her behalf. Your brother’s attempts have met little success however. So your mother enlisted you.

You don’t know what more you can do that your brother couldn’t, but you can never say no to anything your mother asks.

“Is something wrong?” Felix inquires, making his way to your bed to sit near you. The scent of his pricey cologne tingles your nose.

“It's nothing,” you lie. “Just Mom asking if my arrival’s been smooth.”

Your cousin seems like the living embodiment of sunshine, just like you remember. If possible, you want to keep him out of the money issues between your mom and Uncle James.

Felix tilts his head as he studies you.

“It’s kinda funny.”

“What?”

“The way you say ‘mum’”

A laugh peals from your lips.

“I guess I’m gonna have to get used to my accent being made fun of.”

Felix shrugs. “My mum will think it’s exotic.”

You cringe inside. You never liked that word, how it makes you feel like an animal in a zoo.

Switching topics, you ask, “Is my brother around? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Ah, Farleigh’s probably skulking about somewhere.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

Felix collects the book poking through the zipper of your backpack. He flips through the stained pages of your copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood prince. You accidentally spilled coffee on it during a late night study session.

“You could talk to him about this,” he offers, waving the book. “We’ve kind of been passing around Venetia’s copy. Although I tend to skip to the most interesting parts, but don’t tell everyone else.”

You smile.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you reply solemnly.

He watches you for a long time, long enough for your gaze to find the floor as your face heats.

“It’s really good having you here with us, cousin. I mean it.”

You fidget in your spot. “Thanks.”

Felix flashes you a mischievous grin.

“But I’ll need to make sure you remember me this time.”

The rest of the day is spent reconnecting with your other relatives. Everyone gathers in the library and you get to meet Venetia, realizing she too has changed a lot since you were kids.

Oliver, Felix’s friend from Oxford is also there. From your cousin’s broad explanations, it appears he’s grieving the loss of one of his parents, so he invited him to make sure he isn’t alone. It’s unbelievably kind. Besides, you’re guessing from Oliver’s lost puppy dog stares and awkward manners, that he’s as out of place as you are here. Instant sympathy blooms inside you when you’re introduced to him.

A woman named Pamela is also in attendance. She is Aunt Elpseth’s close friend, though it’d be hard to tell, the way she orders her around like a servant and exposes the long list of tragedies her love life has been to the entire room.

A saying about friends and enemies flutters through your mind as you witness their interactions. It’s such a bizarre spectacle, watching this red-haired woman, dead behind the eyes, bend over backwards for your aunt. You don’t remember Aunt Elspeth being this cold-blooded.

And naturally, there is your brother. Farleigh. Aloof in the back, apart from the Cattons, your eyes collide from across the room. He smiles at you. You smile back. Warmth flows through you.

It’ll be a while before you’re comfortable around each other again. It pains you to say, but you don’t know your own brother all that well anymore.

Dinner’s a strangely formal affair. Everyone’s dressed to the nines, giving the family gathering more of a cocktail party vibe than that of a family dinner. Venetia lends you a dress so you aren’t the odd one out. You thank her profusely. All you packed when you left America are jeans and a few pairs of shorts. It never occurred to you that you’d need any kind of formal wear since you figured you would be around family.

But you failed to take into account said family is also a part of British high society.

Awkwardness fills you as you hesitate over the utensils, the different kinds of knives and forks making you dizzy. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself on the first day. Seeming to grasp your predicament, Venetia nudges your elbow when you grip the right fork and knife.

You mutter a quiet ‘thanks’ and she winks at you.

Several courses are brought on silver platters, one after the other. The entire time, you focus on your plate, swallowing every bland, flavorless bite.

Stiff conversation is exchanged at the table, most of it centering on Aunt Elspeth’s dour-looking friend. Once more, compassion flutters through you.

It’s blatant to everyone at the table that Pamela isn’t wanted at Saltburn anymore.

It’s a relief when dinner concludes and you can return to your bedroom.

You sit by the large window in your room to admire the night sky. Between the skyscrapers and artificial lights, it’s hard finding a spot to look at the stars in New York. Here however, you can make out constellations and various other glittering shapes.

Venetia joins you on the windowsill. She takes a long drag of her cigarette and blows smoke on the window. She shoots you a cheeky smile.

“So, do you regret coming already?” she teases.

You fiddle with your hands.

“It’s fine. Everyone’s nice. It’s…kind of unreal being here.”

“Just remember this is your home too.”

You mull it over. It is becoming clear to you how much you don’t fit in with the Cattons, despite sharing blood with them. You wonder if it’s how your brother has felt all these years. Like an outsider amidst his own kin. Although, you have to admit he looked quite comfortable at dinner. Far more than you, definitely.

“I’ll…try to remember that.” You hesitate, gnawing on your lip before speaking again. “Is Pamela gonna be okay, you think?”

Venetia shrugs.

“I think she’ll be alright.”

Your lips purse. Who knows how that haunted woman will fare once she’s on her own in the world again? You’re not too hopeful. But it seems like Aunt Elspeth is done with her, so it cannot be helped you suppose.

“If you say so.” You tilt your head at your cousin, dropping casually. “Do you think Uncle James is still up?”

“At this hour, Daddy will be in his study.”

You nod and get to your feet. Wandering the halls of Saltburn at night is a peculiar experience. The shadows clinging to the walls seem to follow your every step. Dusty slices of moonlight spill from the windows, bringing the stern portraits of your distant relatives to life, the aged hues of the paintings shifting in the dim light. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you're being watched. The back of your neck tingles as the sound of your fearful steps echoes in the vast halls. A breeze of cool air seeps through your clothes. You tug on the cardigan Venetia let you borrow from her closet, hurrying your pace.

For a long time, you spin in circles, growing desperate to find your uncle’s study. Your spirits sour. You followed Venetia’s instructions to the letter yet you got lost. A left, a right, straight along the green room, then…another right?

You frown. Now you can’t remember. Why does every hallway look the same here?

Astray in your own mind, you carelessly bump into a hard object.

You lift your gaze. Your jaw drops.

“Felix,” you exclaim, placing a hand over your heaving chest. “You scared me.”

Mirth glints in his brown orbs.

“Lost, cousin?”

Avoiding his eyes, you scratch your am.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” you mumble.

Felix chuckles and seizes your arm.

“It’s not. It’s easy to get lost here.” You gasp as he pulls you alongside him. “Just tell me where you need to go and I’ll show you the way.”

Too dumbstruck by his abrupt appearance, you let Felix drag you through the somber hallways. The sharp twists and turns he takes make your head spin. There is no way you’d have found the study on your own.

He halts in front of two mahogany doors. Your feet bounce as your hand lingers on the brass handles.

Felix knocks on the door and your heart leaps.

“I’ll wait for you here, so you don’t get lost again,” he says.

“You don’t have to,” you squeak.

He leans over you and smiles.

“I insist, cousin. I have to prove to you not all of us are completely horrible…despite what you may have seen.”

Your face warms.

“T-Thank you.”

James’ voice rises from inside the room, giving you permission to enter. You nod at Felix and take shaky steps inside the study. The crackle of logs burning away reaches you. The swaying flames mingle with the shadows, casting a faint orange glow on the room.

“Uncle James, may I speak to you?” you bashfully inquire.

He lowers his round glasses and puts down the notebook in his hands.

“Of course. Anytime, love. Have a seat.”

“Is something troubling you, child?”

You gulp the lump stuck in your throat, staring at your lap for a while before you meet your uncle’s gaze again. You shift in your seat.

You don’t know how to ask or, more precisely, the appropriate way to ask. A wide lungful enters your lungs. Why delay the inevitable?

You elect to dive right into your reason to be here.

“My mother. Well, she was wondering…” Your nerves buzz as your uncle’s sharp eyes cut into you. You clear your throat before continuing. “We were wondering if there were issues on your side because she hasn’t…” Sweat blooms inside your palms as your voice dwindles to a whisper. “Well, you haven’t sent anything like you usually do and it’s been two months now.”

A heavy coat of silence falls over the study. After a while, your uncle unleashes a deep sigh.

“And she sent you to vouch for her.”

“I’m sorry.” Your shoulders slump. “Mom, she…She isn’t really good with money.” This is a massive understatement, and from the way Uncle James’ eyes bear into yours, it’s clear that he’s also aware of that fact. As much as you love your mom, she’s never been the most responsible with money, often squandering it on flashy things and pretty clothes. More than once growing up, she fell short on a bill and you couldn’t even shower before going to school. “If you could help this one time, then I’ll figure something out for her. I promise.”

“And how do you plan on doing that, young lady?” your uncle challenges.

“I…I’ll find a way. We always find a way.”

“You’re a very good daughter, which I can appreciate…” Your pulse races as you wait with bated breath. “But I’ve given your mother more than enough for her to get on her feet. Still, she always asks for more.”

Your heart plummets. The finality laced in his tone didn’t elude you. Why did you even think you could sway your uncle’s opinion in any way when your own brother, who has been around the Cattons for years, couldn’t accomplish that feat?

“She has issues…but I promise, uncle, she’ll get herself together this time,” you offer.

“I will give it some thought.”

He flashes you a sympathetic smile. You recognize its meaning right away. It’s strikingly similar to the one Aunt Elspeth gave her “friend” at the dinner table.

Understanding you are being dismissed, you get up from the chair and bid your uncle good night.

“Thank you for listening,” you say glumly before leaving.

As Felix escorts you back to your bedroom, you can’t help but notice that Uncle James never once referred to your mother as his sister.

You frankly doubt he will give what you said any semblance of thought. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if that entire conversation vanished from his head the second you stepped out of his study.

The rest of the week goes smoothly. Lazy summer days with your cousins and brother fly by in a hazy blur. Hanging by the pond beneath the sizzling sun. Displaying your terrible tennis playing skills to the entire group. Scary movie nights with the whole family during which Venetia and Felix laugh at you because you watch most of the film through your fingers and hide your face in a pillow whenever the monster appears.

It’s nice. You start thinking that reuniting with your extended family for the summer wasn’t such a rotten idea.

You nearly forget your mother. Nearly.

Though with the daily messages you receive detailing the squalor she’s living in, it’s impossible to forget. Guilt grows within you each day.

“She’s been texting you too?” Farleigh asks as he sits at the edge of the tennis court next to you. He’s still in his tux while you’re still wearing one of Venetia’s sparkly dresses, as all of you decided to sneak out of Aunt Elspeth’s uptight dinner party to catch the sunset and play a game of tennis. One thing you’ve come to learn about your cousins. They do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want. Part of you envies that. The carefree knowledge that whatever mess you make, someone will clean up behind you…discreetly and in silence at that.

You flip your phone shut and sigh.

“Nonstop.” You sag in the chair. “I’ve done all I can.”

“Yeah…Me too.”

“I feel awful.”

You’re taken aback when your brother says, “Don’t. This isn’t your fault.”

You tentatively reach over his armchair to squeeze his hand.

“It’s not yours either,” you assure softly. Your brother shocks you when his fingers wrap around yours. You don’t think you held hands like this since you were toddlers. You were always the clingy one, following after your big brother like a lost puppy.

You and your brother remain like this for a while, eyes trailing the downward race of the sun over the horizon.

When night falls, you’re surprised to find a tall, familiar form slipping through the wall of your bedroom.

“Felix!” He puts a finger over his lips as a sign to lower your voice. It instantly dips to a whisper. “How did you get here?”

Amusement paints Felix’s features at your flabbergasted expression. He clicks the door shut.

You blink. Once closed, the secret entrance blends seamlessly into the wall. There is no way you could have known this was here.

“Secret passageway. Old castles like Saltburn have plenty of them,” he explains, crawling over your bed.

“Oh.”

As your eyes drag over his frame and you note that Felix’s just in his shorts, fire creeps inside your cheeks. Of course, you’ve seen your cousin in trunks but usually, it’s around the entire group. For some reason, a sliver of discomfort pools within you. You look away and clear your throat.

“Is it…okay for you to be here?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that…nothing.”

A deep chuckle peals from his chest. The mattress bounces as Felix lets himself fall onto your sheets. He makes himself comfortable on the pillow near you, putting his hands behind his head as a lazy smile spreads on his lips.

“Don’t be silly. We’re family. It’s like when we were little and we’d all sleep in the same bed.”

You can’t help but smile at that. He’s right; you’re overreacting.

“Right. That was so fun.”

He lies on his side, elbow bent as he buries one hand in his tousled brown curls.

“You used to have nightmares so you’d always sneak into my bed or Farleigh’s.”

“Now that you’re saying it, I think I remember that.”

“You’re still as cute as I remember.” Felix’s brown eyes twinkle as he drinks you in. “No…Even cuter.”

“Thanks.”

He approaches you and starts playing with the hem of your cotton shorts, twiddling the fabric between his forefinger and thumb.

Brown eyes dive right into yours.

“I saw you with Farleigh today. You looked sad.”

You shake your head.

“It’s nothing…just got some stuff on my mind.”

Felix’s smile dies.

“You also looked sad when you left Dad’s office the other day.”

You bristle. “It’s nothing important, really.”

“Your mom?” he inquires. When you don’t reply, Felix’s knuckles sweep over your outer thigh, his deep timbre softening, “You can trust me, cousin.”

You unleash a sharp, audible breath, budding tears tickling your eyelids.

“It’s just a lot. She’s asking things from me that I don’t know if I can do much about.”

Felix collects one of your stray tears with his thumb. He then snatches your hands from your lap and clutches them in his. They completely swallow yours.

“She shouldn’t ask anything of you. It’s not fair. You’re her daughter. She should protect you. Not the other way around.”

You sniffle. “I don’t know. It’s just been me and my mom for so long. Especially after Farleigh decided to stay in England most of the time. So I feel like…I need to take care of her, you know? Because she always took care of me.”

He cups your cheek, wiping more of your tears.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good, cousin.”

Felix then sits up and conjures a lighter and a blunt from the back pocket of his shorts.

You gawk at him as he lights it in front of you, taking a deep drag before blowing smoke in your face.

Your stomach tingles when he offers it to you.

“I don’t know if I should…”

Felix’s timbre lowers seductively as he grabs your hand and slips the roll between your fingers. Even holding it doesn’t feel right.

“Come on, you’ll feel better. It’ll free your mind. No thoughts. No troubles. Just…light and happy.”

“That sounds amazing,” you mumble.

“Then try a puff.”

You bring the blunt to your mouth and immediately cough.

“You gotta go slow,” he chuckles. Once you’ve retrieved your breath, he nudges it against your mouth again. “Here, another.”

The room begins to swirl around you. You lie back, a heady, cotton-like sensation spreading from your head to your toes.

“Damn…” you whisper as your limbs slacken, the tension in your body slowly melting away.

Felix lies back next to you, his grin growing.

“See? That’s why you should always listen to me, cousin.”

It becomes a habit, Felix sneaking into your room and the two of you smoking in your bed every night. Him slipping through the secret door doesn’t even faze you anymore, and your reservations about getting high evaporate a little more with every puff you inhale. The serene sensation and warm tingles you get afterwards are entirely too pleasant.

It’s something you’ve never experienced. Letting go. For a few precious minutes, the burdens on your shoulders can vanish.

You don’t tell Venetia, or even Farleigh. You still remember him going full big brother mode that one day when you tried to join the rest of them when they hung out naked in the field. The Cattons siblings laughed as you were escorted away, burning from head to toe at the humiliation.

You don’t want a repeat of that. Always being the good girl is exhausting. Not that your brother would understand. He gets to live life on his own terms. Get kicked out from as many schools as he likes. Charm his way through the world. You don’t. For once, you want to revel in doing something…a little forbidden. Something the nerdy, party-avert, studious girl you forced yourself to be all these years would never do.

So the nightly meetups become you and Felix’s secret.

It’s all casual, harmless fun. Until, one night, everything changes. As your head lolls back on the pillows, your gaze fixated on the ceiling, your cousin’s fingers dance over your half-exposed belly.

“Feeling better?” he mutters, his voice low and secretive.

“Yeah.”

“I know a way you can feel even better.”

You don’t think much of it. Not even when he slithers across the sheets, finding his way between your legs. He tugs your shorts down, slowly, until you’re down to your panties in front of him. The rush of cool air on your skin makes you tremble.

“Felix, what are you doing?” you chuckle, high enough not to fully register what’s going on.

A playful smile ghosts over your cousin’s lips. He blows on your clothed center and the sensation draws a giggle from you, even as a faint layer of panic is trying to pierce through the haze.

“You seemed so stressed today. It’ll help you relax…” he promises, trailing sluggish kisses up your inner thigh. As his lips travel upward, your stomach clenches. He hooks two fingers inside your panties to push them aside.

Your cousin’s gaze darkens, his smile broadening, as he basks in the sight of your bare, shuddering folds. He licks his lips before kissing the center of you.

Your limbs tense as Felix starts unraveling you with his tongue. He licks a stripe over your folds, his tongue tarrying over your tender bud. The breath catches in your throat. He traces slow circles over your button, tearing a soft gasp from you everytime he suckles the sensitive spot between his lips.

Felix hums while his head bobs between your thighs.

A tingly, warm feeling starts blooming in your core, scattering to your entire body. Hot and irresistible. A wave of heat that slowly takes over your entire frame.

You clutch the sheets.

Your eyes rise to the heavens as heat pulses through your core.

“No, Felix, this is… this is wrong,” you wheeze out between aching breaths.

His devious laughter ripples through your core.

“I’m just trying to make you feel good. How can that be wrong, cousin?” he says innocently, before flicking his tongue over your folds. He spreads you even more, dipping in and out of you as quiet shouts rip from your throat. Your back curves over the sheets. Your lids flutter as you peer at the ceiling unseeingly.

His sinful baritone nudges you to your undoing.

“Just let go. It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You quake, the tense heat growing too much to bear. Your insides coil. Sparks erupt from your center, traveling outward. Your body goes limp as you collapse over the sheets, dazed and breathless. Tears of arousal trickle from your core and your cousin greedily savors every wayward drop. Shame scalds your insides as you feel him lap up your nectar, your wide gaze glued to the ceiling.

The next morning, panic rushes through you as your eyes snap open.

“Hey, hey, you don’t need to freak out,” Felix says lightly, pulling you against him from behind. His hand settles over your rapidly moving chest.

“Last night…” you say, choking on a sob as you recall bits and pieces. You were so damn high. Still, you’re pretty sure what you think happened…happened. Even in your own head, you can’t put it into words. You rub your thighs. Stickiness lingers there from Felix’s ravenous tongue. Shame burns in your gut.

As you try to climb off the bed, Felix yanks you back. He slams you down on your back. Your heart jumps as he looms over you, his broad body easily caging yours.

He frames your chin, drawing your attention to him.

“We just had some fun, you and I,” he says, thumb tracing your quivering lip. “That’s all. No one ever has to know.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you keep pulling on your tiny camisole, pathetically attempting to cover your nakedness. Felix chuckles.

“Gosh, you really need to stop being so uptight, pretty cousin.”

He drops a quick peck on your cheek before dragging his lips over your earshell.

“It’s okay. We’ll work on loosening you up.”

For a few days, Felix doesn’t visit your room again. You’re thankful for that. You can barely meet your cousin’s gaze now, the fear of someone finding out what happened eating you alive. You can’t imagine coming back after so many years only to cause havoc and drama.

Your mom would be so disappointed. Your brother would be livid.

So you do as Felix says. You keep your lips firmly sealed. It’s not like it’ll go further than that anyway. The two of you were high, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

None of this would have happened otherwise.

Unfortunately, your meticulously crafted wall of denial explodes when your cousin shows up again one night.

You tremble as your eyes rest on him. Felix smiles at you, pushing the secret door closed. You note the camera dangling from his neck. The entire day was spent snapping pictures to remember the summer. You took so many silly ones with Venetia and your brother. For a while, you let yourself forget. Felix took most of the pictures today, appearing in very few himself. You just didn’t expect him to still be wearing it this late.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply shyly.

“How are you feeling today?”

Your lips clamp shut. Today was awful. Apparently your mom might be getting evicted soon. She hasn’t stopped texting you about it the entire day, and even some of the night because of the time difference. You feel so dauntingly powerless…and awful. You’re staying in a literal castle while your mom might be homeless soon.

“I’m good.”

He takes lithe steps towards you, his handsome face twisting in sympathy as he plops down on your bed. He removes the camera from around his neck and tosses it over your pillows.

“No you’re not. You’re still worried about your mom. You were checking your phone all day today.”

You bring your knees close to your chest.

“It’s fine, Felix.”

Felix sighs, concern swimming in his brown gaze.

“No, it’s not fine.” His fingers roam over your ankle as he lies on his side. “You know…” Felix pauses, eyes holding yours. “I could talk to my dad if you want. He never refuses me anything.” He flashes a sunny grin. “After all, I’m his precious boy. His firstborn son.”

You gape at him.

“You really would do that for my mom?”

Felix sits up and closes the distance between the two of you. He bends over you, placing his large hands over your feet. You follow the stars tattoos etched atop his hand; his sister has the same ones if you recall.

His knees graze your ankles as he says, “Not for your mom. For you, cousin. So that frown on your face can finally…” He flicks your brow with his thumb and laughs. “...disappear. Like magic.”

You consider Felix, relief and awe storming through you.

Without giving it much thought, you toss your arms around his neck.

“Thank you so much,” you exclaim.

“Of course…” His fingers travel along your spine. “I’d just have a little favor to ask in return.”

“Sure, anything,” you answer easily.

He pulls back, lacing his fingers with yours.

“It’s not much.”

The heady scent of his cologne washes over you as he leans forward.

“I’ve been aching somewhere lately and I need you to make it better, cousin.”

“Oh, aching…where?”

“I think it’s best if I just show you.”

A foreboding inkling flares in your gut. Still, you don’t move as Felix “shows you”. He tugs on his shorts. He slowly pulls on the fabric, shimmying out of it as you hold your breath. When his length springs free, you unleash a small squeak. Your reaction drags a laugh out of Felix.

Though you don’t really want to, you can’t help but stare. It’s thick and long with veins running alongside the shaft. The tip points upward, glistening and red.

“I don’t know if I can help with…something like that,” you mumble, your voice wavering at the end.

“Sure you can.”

He lifts your chin, diving his eyes into yours.

“I just need somewhere warm, and soft, to slip the tip of my cock so it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Shock parts your lips.

“Felix…”

He hooks his thumb inside your open mouth, a lopsided grin stretching on his face.

“Come on, it’ll just be the tip, I promise. Then we never have to talk about it anymore. You won’t even feel it, I swear.”

“Just the…tip?” you say, your throat knotting as your gaze drifts down. You take in Felix’s size, swallowing thickly. It matches the rest of him, you suppose. You don’t even think it could fit, not fully. So just the tip is probably for the best. “Nothing more?”

“Just the tip. And I’ll talk to my dad first thing in the morning.” He strokes your cheek, uttering softly, “I bet your mom will be so happy for what you did for her.”

You heave out a deep, resigned breath. Right, your mom. While you’re not too comfortable with what Felix is asking for, if it means he’ll talk to Uncle James, you don’t have it in you to refuse. A favor for a favor. Then you’ll spend the rest of the summer forgetting it ever happened. You can do that.

You peer up at Felix.

“Okay then but don’t…stay too long.”

He beams at you.

“You’re amazing.”

Felix leans back. He removes his shorts fully, revealing himself in all his naked glory.

“Just lay back for me, cousin,” he instructs. He slants his head, satisfaction filling his gaze when you do as he says. “Open those perfect legs of yours.” His pupils swell with lust as you part your quivering thighs.

“Good girl,” he praises.

Felix crawls over you. You freeze. He grips the waistband of your pajama bottoms to slide them off your legs. He takes his time, agonizingly slow as he soaks in every tiny shift on your face. Horror curls your insides. You wish he’d just get it over with. But it’s clear Felix wishes to enjoy every mortifying second of this.

Your panties are next. Once again, he drags it out. Warmth blooms in your face as cool air hits your bare folds. It’s worse than last time, because there’s nothing to dull your senses, or pretend it isn’t happening.

“Don’t close your legs. I want to see everything,” he says when you try to hide from him. His throat bobs, hunger lurking in his eyes as he licks his lips. “You have a really pretty pussy, you know that, cousin?”

“Please, don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“B-Because it’s embarrassing.”

He smirks.

“You’re so fucking cute.”

Your cousin plucks the discarded camera and points it at your face. The blinding light sears your eyelids as he quickly snaps a series of pictures of you in the compromising position.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your pulse soaring.

“W-Why did you just take a picture?”

“Because I want to remember you like this.”

He chortles as you try to snatch the camera from his hands, keeping it out of your reach with ease with his long arm.

“Delete it, Felix,” you plead.

He tilts his head, his expression dripping with mischief.

“Sure, if you do everything I say, I’ll delete it.”

Tears brim beneath your lashes. You want to trust Felix. You really do. But he always asks for more. You wonder where it’ll end, if it ever will.

“You promise?”

“Of course. I’d never lie to you, cousin.”

He places the camera on the floor near the bed. If you thought you could get past him, destroy the camera, you would. However you’re beginning to realize something about Felix. He always gets his way.

He crawls his way to you. You don’t resist as Felix nudges you down, trapping you beneath him. The fitful drumming of your heart fills your ears.

He bends down, stealing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips sweep over yours, hungry, feverish. He cups the side of your face, moaning as he explores your mouth. His hands start wandering over your body. They feel everywhere at once, kneading and teasing your flesh. Felix pulls your top over your head so you’re in nothing but your bra.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue stealing your air and sanity. You melt beneath him.

The air is robbed from your lungs when he starts prodding at your entrance. Your fingers clench around the sheets. His thick tip stretches you so much already. You can barely take it.

His voice comes out hoarse and strained.

“You feel so bloody good.”

He pushes a bit more. You tense, your walls aching at his size. Your tearful gaze rises to the ceiling. Felix seizes your chin, pulling it so your eyes lock with his.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

He piledrives into you, sheathing himself inside you completely. Your vision flickers as he finds the hilt of you. Your lips part in a silent scream. Your chest heaves and falls quickly.

“Felix, you said…”

He shushes you, pinning both of your wrists above your head as he begins moving inside you. A wicked glow burns in Felix’s brown gaze. “I know what I said…but it feels too good inside you, cousin.”

“But you promised...” you sob.

He kisses away your tears, his voice mellowing.

“I’m sorry,” he says after thrusting inside you deeply. “I’m so sorry…” Your toes flex, stars creeping in your sight with each of your cousin’s vigorous thrusts. His pace doesn’t relent, even as you weep and plead him with your eyes. He almost seems to pluck joy from your quiet helplessness. His chest brushes over yours as his lips ghost over your earshell. “But I don’t think I can stop.”

Your breathing quickens. As Felix’s cock grazes along your sensitive spots, little whimpers spill from your throat. He drapes one hand over your mouth, still pounding inside you.

“Shh, be quiet for me, cousin. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, right?”

“I think our uncle likes you better than me.”

You look at your brother through your sunglasses. You’re thankful for them. They’ve done a nice job concealing the puffiness of your eyes. You’ve been crying a lot lately. Too often. It started the night Felix snuck into your room and the flood hasn’t really stopped since. All of it turns your stomach. The lying, the sneaking around…the sick, twisted lies. His sick, twisted lies. It was supposed to just be one time.

Felix deceived you.

Every night since that one, your cousin found his way into your room, coaxing you to do things that make you hate yourself afterwards. It’s even slowly escalated to daily trysts. Felix would conjure excuses to steal you away while your other relatives are blissfully unaware. Having his way with you in a dark corner. Fingering you in the library. Cornering you in the maze to taste the nectar between your legs. Your cousin seems determined to make sure no inch of Saltburn isn’t tainted by his wicked desires.

This is a nightmare.

Your mom was so overjoyed on the phone after receiving Uncle James’ payment. And you’re glad you could help. But the cost…Did your mother’s happiness have to occur at your expense? You’re so exhausted, ashamed. You don’t know how long you can stand to be the vessel for your cousin’s lurid fantasies.

Even proper rest is denied to you now, the fear of someone figuring it out keeping you wide awake for hours every night.

“I doubt that,” you say, your lips curving in a stilted smile.

Farleigh leans back in his lounge chair, pushing his sunglasses over his nose.

“Still, good job, little sis.” A wide grin blooms on his face. “Guess being a goody two-shoes has its perks.”

Your chest clenches at your brother’s remark.

As Felix’s eyes find yours from across the pond, your blood freezes. He smiles at you. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. You shift, your attention returning to your brother.

“I-I don’t know about that.”

You thought the awfulness reached its peak. You were wrong. A new brand of twisted is introduced by Felix during breakfast with the entire family.

He sits next to you, smiling at you. You don’t think much of it. Why would you? He’s done this before. Taunt you. Tease you. Torment you. Even in front of the rest of them.

But what he does today, while Aunt Elspeth sits across from you and your brother is on your other side…it’s just ghastly. Impious.

Felix’s digits roam atop your thigh. You shoot him a glare. He pointedly ignores you, carrying a casual conversation with his mom while playing with the hem of your dress.

You focus on your plate. He caresses the inside of your thigh as you bring the fork to your lips.

He presses two fingers against your clothed center. Pushing, pressing and swirling around your tender bud. Your knees rub, heat gathering at the apex of your thighs.

The metal of the fork damn near shatters your teeth as you choke on a mouthful of eggs.

You apologize swiftly, shakily grabbing the glass of water near your plate. You take a long swig from it and clear your throat. Felix’s digits dip further inside you. Your breath hitches. He stops just shy of letting you come apart, bringing you to the cusp only to retreat at the very last second. A meticulously thought out torture.

It lasts for almost the entirety of breakfast, only reaching an end when Venetia rises from the table. You follow right after her, excusing yourself with a tense smile.

Hollow steps take you through an endless series of hallways. You can hardly even think, the enormity of what your cousin just did in front of his parents, in front of everyone, shocking you into numbness. Where will his depravity end? You long for summer to end so perhaps you can finally be free from your cousin.

You wind up in an empty room brimming with dusty books and antiques. You sit in a corner, knees against your chest, as you revel in a rare moment of respite. You don’t get these as often anymore. Not if your cousin has anything to say about it.

As usual, it doesn’t take long for Felix to find you a little later. Your heart skips a beat when his towering frame darkens the doorway, blocking any chance of an escape.

“Playing hide and seek, cousin?” he teases, amusement laced in his voice.

Tears swim in your eyes as you shoot him an accusing look.

“At breakfast, really? Someone could have seen, Felix. M-My brother, he could have seen.”

Rolling his eyes, he hops towards you to take a seat next to you. His rebuttal is disturbingly nonchalant.

“We’re not gonna get caught.”

“I think we should stop,” you sputter, your mouth wobbling.

His brows squeeze together, a mix of annoyance and confusion twisting his features.

“Why?”

You fiddle with the bottom of your dress, struggling to meet his irate stare.

“I’m grateful for everything you did, really, but this doesn’t feel right.”

His cheek pulses, a strange grin dragging his lips upward. Your stomach sinks.

“We’re just having fun, you and I, cousin.”

Your words warp into a watery croak.

“This isn’t fun, Felix.”

A weary sigh drops from his chest.

“It’s because you’re overthinking it,” he says, reaching out to cup your cheek. You turn your head. Frustration flickers in your cousin’s eyes. As you try to stand, he grabs you and shoves you on the floor.

“Felix, no…”

Ignoring your sniveling pleas, Felix hastily unzips his jeans and yanks your underwear down to your ankles.

A strangled sob flows from your lips as he nestles himself inside your wet heat in a single deep, cruel thrust.

You’re a whimpering mess on the floor as your cousin pounds into you from behind.

“Just stop fighting it,” he grunts. He twists his fist in your hair, your scalp singing in pain when he tugs at your roots. Tears stream down your face while your cousin snaps his pelvis into your ass.

“See? This is good.” His warm, heavy exhales tickle your nape. “Doesn’t my cock inside you feel good, cousin?”

“Yes…” you begrudgingly admit, loathing how every time he sinks into you, your toes curl and your eyes roll back on their own, warm tingles dancing through your core.

“Look outside.” You wince as he angles your chin towards the window, his other hand still tangled in your hair. You’re greeted with a beautiful sight of the lush gardens sprawling before the castle. His hot whisper grazes your temple. “Do you see all this? How beautiful Saltburn is…especially in the summer.” His smile carves into your skin.

“One day, all of this will be mine, cousin.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek. Shivers course through your spine. “And it could be yours too… if you behave.”

#saltburn #felix catton #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton x reader #dark!felix catton #dark!felix catton x reader #saltburn 2023

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harunovella · 11 months ago

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ safety net; t.f.

synopsis: when toji decided to be a good man and rescue two puppies for his son... content: canon divergence (I want a happy story for the fushiguro's!), fem!reader, reader is mamaguro, in this world your last name is fushiguro and toji took it bc f*ck the zenin, megumi is ur son (he's just a baby!), domestic bliss, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: seeing how successful my gojo anthology series is going (only two parts but going strong), I wanted to do one for toji bc I've always wanted to write his story with mamaguro (aka you!) and do a bunch of one shots that can be read as stand alones or together! pls lmk if you want more and if u wanna be tagged in the future <3 p.s. the divine dogs are actual dogs that inspired megumi's later manifestation of his shikigami in this au

It was one of those late nights for Toji. A summer evening with a heavy downpour to blur his path before him. The windshields were moving as fast as they could, swiftly clearing his vision with every wipe across the glass. He was quite used to this, running around town in the wee hours of the night, nothing new to him. It just annoyed him how difficult it could be driving in the rain when his windows fogged up and the headlights could only do so much.

He wasn't too far from home, running a quick errand before returning to his abode, wanting nothing more than the warmth of his bed.

A bed... A home...

Toji couldn't help but sigh and lean his head back against the car's headrest. Had this all been a dream? Was it real? Him, Zenin Toji, living a normal life? It had been quite some time now where he left it all behind to be domesticated—as if he were a wild animal. He didn't mind, though, a part of him was begging for a simple kind of life.

Sat at a red light as his pointer finger tapped away against the leather steering wheel, his eyes wandered the environment around him—well, as much as he could see during an evening shower. From building to building, the empty sidewalks and dim storefronts, his eyes suddenly bounced back to a bus stop. Squinting, he leaned in before turning on his blinkers.

This was very unlike him, his curiosity getting the best of him... Maybe it was because he was a changed man. Maybe it was because he had someone to go home to. Someone who made his deflated heart triple in size; someond who made him care about little things that he never did before.

Pulling over and parking his car next to the bus stop, Toji pulled up his hoodie and reached for the small umbrella that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. Rushing out and popping open the coverage, he stood before a small, cardboard box.

It was falling apart, the rain tearing at the flimsy material as the little towel beneath was completely drenched. Hearing the faint whimpers and cries of the tiny creatures that stared up at him, Toji took in a sharp breath and shook his head. He was a good man now. Better than he ever was before. He had a heart. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. These little bodies did not.

Lifting the box, he quickly maneuvered it underneath the umbrella before carefully placing it in the backseat of his car. "I hope she won't mind..." he said before making his way to the front, closing the umbrella and shutting the door after, resuming his route.

The drive home was quicker this time around, zooming to gather the bags and box he had within the car, shutting the doors and locking them behind him before he made his way towards the front door. Taking the steps and fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and slipped inside before kicking off his shoes and making his way towards the living room.

Settling the box down before moving towards the kitchen with the bag, he washed his hands and emptied the contents within it. Pulling out the small device, Toji made his way upstairs, ruffling his dark hair as he pressed a few buttons on the gadget. "Babe, this one should be fine," he spoke as he approached one of the two bedrooms.

"Oh, good," the voice responded as he entered the room. You were sitting on your son's rocking chair, holding him close to your chest as you caressed his little back. He was about six months old and the constant change in weather was getting to him, causing a slight cold to disrupt his immunity. It pained both of you to see your boy anything but happy and healthy... but, he was such a little trooper. Both of you weren't sure where he got his calmness from, seeing as you nor Toji were such a way, but you thanked the heavens for blessing you with a child like him.

"How's Megs doin'?" Toji asked as he handed you the new thermometer, squatting and gently caressing his son's head. His hand practically engulfed it, always entertaining him how tiny his boy was. It brought a small smile to his face. "Doesn't seem so fussy."

"A bit better, I got him to fall asleep. You weren't gone for too long, thankfully," you sweetly smiled, settling the small device down before caressing Toji's face. "Raining hard, huh?"

"Yeah," he nodded, only to widen his eyes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

Scratching the back of his head, Toji stood up. "Got a surprise along the way... hope you don't mind."

"What do you mean?" You tilted your head.

"Let's go downstairs," he nudged his own, waving you to follow him.

Standing up carefully as to not wake your baby boy, you followed your man down the hall and staircase, towards your living room. You were confused at first, unsure as to what surprise he could've gotten you. But then you heard it. The faint cries and rustling coming from a box. The box in front of you. "Toji..."

"You've changed me, y'know?" He said. "I wouldn't have cared back then, would've left them suffer... but, guess it's because I'm a father now and I have you... I couldn't let them die out there..." rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by the box, you curiously peeked over before gasping. "Thought it would be nice to keep 'em... give Megs something to grow with."

"Toji... there's two," you nearly whispered, eyeing the puppies. One in pure white and one in all black, both equally precious. Tiny, scared, cold... you couldn't deny them either, even if you were currently raising your own baby.

"Yeah..." Toji sighed. "I was thinkin' about giving them a quick bath now and take them to the vet early tomorrow. Don't have much to feed them but we can make it work, right?" He said, keeping his eyes on them, a bit afraid of your reaction.

As upset as you should've been, seeing as it was two more mouths to feed, instead, you felt... elated? You weren't sure why, maybe it was because you were seeing more and more sides of Toji you didn't think would exist. Or maybe you loved the idea of giving your son two furry best friends to grow with. It could've also been that you were just happy that your son was okay and getting through his cold that you couldn't be as bothered.

It also didn't help that you may or may not have mentioned a few times (while taking your strolls during your pregnancy) that your little blessing should have some furry friends around. You just didn't think it would happen... this way.

"So?" Toji asked, looking at you with timid eyes. "Can we keep 'em?"

"Toji," you chuckled. "I'm not going to abandon these poor babies. You brought them here, you're gonna have to do a lot of raising. You're now a father of three," you teased as he nodded.

"I'm well aware."

"I'm surprised you're okay with this, let alone, brought them," you pointed out.

Shrugging, he looked back down. "Like I said, it's cause you changed me and I'm a father now. As scary as that is... I dunno... guess I want that normal life and normal people have dogs, right?" Seeing you nod with a small smile, Toji couldn't help but reflect your facial expression. "I wanna give him everything I've never had," he nudged his head in Megumi's direction.

"Such a good dad," you softly spoke, caressing your sons back before stepping closer and kissing Toji's arm. "Then I guess we have two puppies now. What should we name them?"

Eyeing the two, Toji hummed. "Kuro and Shiro."

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darlingsfandom · 4 months ago

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Heeey, I love your writing💕 can you please write something about Tommy buying a horse for his wife and teach her to ride, and the day ends with her riding Tommy real hard😍

Hi! Thank you 💕 I sure can.

TW: swearing , semi public sex, riding, p in v unprotected and not proofread.

Tommy was always full of surprises sometimes they were good other times they were bad and sometimes you didn’t even ask. It was better that way because you knew of the family business long before you married Tommy.

On the bright side this time was a good surprise. You were sitting out back enjoying your romance book with a glass of lemon water while the cool fall air breezed across your cheeks. It was quiet since Tommy was out , Polly was with Lizzie and shopping and the rest of the family was out doing their own things. It was nice to have the house to yourself. All thoughts in your head flew out the window when you heard Tommy’s voice in the distance.

Quickly you stood up on your feet as Tommy came in the yard with a surprise.

“Tommy! What on earth is that?” You asked closing your book and tossing it on the table.

“It’s a horse darling!” He smiled.

“I see that but what I meant was… why do you have a horse Tommy ?” You walked up to him with caution .

“Well because it’s your horse!” He offered you the rope but you stood in shock.

“You bought me a horse? Really? You’re joking! I don’t know the first thing about owning a horse!” You were in disbelief. The horse was beautiful you had to admit but you just couldn’t wrap your head around the reality of the situation.

“Well that’s why ya got a horse! I’m going to teach you how to care for her and how to ride as well.” Tommy petted the left side of the horses face before extending his hand out for you. You took his hand cautiously before he placed it on the horse.

“You got a female horse to match yours? Because they look the same!” A smile crept on your lips as Tommy smiled at you. It was true, he basically got his and hers horses for the two of you. He wanted you to go on rides with him, enjoy the nature that surrounded the home and beyond. A new hobby the two of you could share together since you didn’t collect guns or whiskey and he didn’t bake bread or the most delicious lemon cookies he’s ever had. This was something the two of you could enjoy.

“She is beautiful.” You whispered while petting her mane .

“Just like you my dear. Soft, elegant … Gorgeous.” Tommy kissed your cheek making you turn red. “Now for today I’ll ride with you on her which we can’t just keep calling her well her! You’re going to have to name ..”.

“Tulip!” You blurted out making Tommy chuckle. Here you were so determined not to like his gift but you had a name already picked out. Tommy nodded in agreement before he helped you up on tulip.

Tulip let out a little neigh which made you jump and Tommy shake his head as a laugh left his mouth. He got you up there with ease before hopping on himself. Tommy sat behind you as close as he could so he could still hold the rope and guide tulip. His chest was pressed into your back and had his arms wrapped around you as best as he could.

“Best of ya grab the rope too, safety and all.” Tommy kissed the back of your head and with the snap of the rope the two of you were off.

The afternoon flew by as Tommy took you for a ride along one of his favorite paths. It was stunning watching it go by and the sun sitting high in the sky. It wasn’t long before the two of you made it home. Tommy jumped off first before helping you down and taking tulip into the barn with his horse. The horses looked at each other and it was an instant connection. Tommy laughed as he watched his horse Butcher give Tulip his charm.

“I think they like each other.” Tommy wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you turned to face him and place your hand on his chest.

“I know two other creatures that like each other.” You arched your eyebrow while dragging your hand down his chest.

“I know that look sweetheart… let me take you back into the house..”

“No!” You pushed him up against the barn doors before smashing your lips into his. His hands grabbed onto your waist and lifted your leg up as the two of you kissed heavily mixing your tongues together. Tommy loved when you got to this level of neediness because it meant that he could do what he wanted whenever wherever ! You were needy after the ride because he had you sitting against her harness that was studded and you were sat upon the stud that rubbed against your clit.

“Needy girl … going to let me fuck you in a barn… although two weeks ago at the pub…” Tommy mumbled to himself as you kissed down his neck. Your hands were busy undoing his pants.

“No, you’re going to let me ride you!” You were in a hurry to get his cock out and who was he to complain.

“Now that you’re already an expert in darling.” Tommy smirked as you pulled his pants down along with his boxers but when you pushed him down into the hay that was a shock. You pulled down your skirt but as you took off your panties Tommy grabbed them from your hands and held them up. “Ooh baby, look at that wet spot! What a naughty girl you are.” He licked the wet spot while looking you the eye making you whine. “What’s the matter honey, do you need my tongue licking you hmm?”

“Tommy please! Fuck!” You had tears in your eyes from how worked up you were.

“Ride me baby and then I’ll lick your pretty cunt.” Tommy snapped his fingers and you were on it. You slowly jerked his semi hard cock before putting the head of his cock against your folds. A small hiss left your lips as you sank down all the way on his cock.

“Oh Tommy!” Your fingers grabbed his shoulders as he helped guide you along his cock.

“That’s a good girl, I know it’s big and no matter how many times I fuck ya ya never seem to get used to it! Magic little pussy ya got baby.” Tommy rubbed your hips as you finally started to ride his cock. It was slow and loving at first. He brushed your hair with his fingers as you rocked your hips back and forth making him let out low groans. Tommy pulled you closer so he could moan into your ear because he knew how much you loved hearing his moans.

The two of you enjoyed the soft yet passionate sex but something inside of you took over. Your grip on his shoulders got tighter before you looked up into his eyes and he could see the desire pooling in them. You lifted up your hips and slammed right back down before moving your hips faster, riding his cock like your life depended on it.

“Fuck yes! That’s my girl! Yes baby don’t stop! Feels so fucking good! Fuck! Ride my cock just like that.” Tommy’s hands smacked your ass cheeks at the same time making you cry in pleasure. Your mouth dropped open letting all your whines spill out . Tommy was in love! Well he’s always been in love with you but this was the lustful love . The way you were riding his cock was the best he’s ever felt, the way you just took charge and used him for your own pleasure that lead to his pleasure was amazing to him. His sweet little housewife that had a sexual hunger that only he could fill was the best feeling. Here you were owning his cock, looking so angelic yet doing something so dirty.

“My cock! Mine” you mumbled as you rode him hard.

“Yes baby! It’s yours! Fuck! Such a dirty girl! Fucking me in public place again” Tommy cupped your face in his hands making you look him in the eye before he stopped you from riding him. You pouted your bottom lip but only for a split second until Tommy took over and fucked his cock up into you as fast as he could. The sound of his heavy balls slapping against your wetness filled the barn making you moan loudly. His hand snaked up to your hair and gave it a hard yank so he could cover your throat in kisses. Your orgasm was on the brink and Tommy knew it so he slowed down before gripping your hips to pull you down his cock . He bounced you nice and hard on his cock that was aching to cum in you.

“Tommy!” You whined loudly as your body started to shake.

“I know baby, it’s okay be good for me yeah? Cum on my cock! Soak my cock… be a good OH !” Tommy was cut short as you clenched his cock cumming hard! The two of you cried out together as your orgasms washed over you. You were shaking in his arms as he held you tightly while filling you up with his cum.

Silence filled the barn as you came down from your high. Tommy rubbed your back lovingly as the two of you relaxed enjoying each others body heat.

“Ya know I meant it earlier honey… you’re already an expert in riding alright and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tommy kissed your temple before he slowly helped you back onto your feet to get back to the house so you could carry on like nothing just happened, just a regular afternoon fuck session between a husband and his wife in their barn. Between you and Tommy , it was never a dull day and neither of you would change it .

#thomas shelby x fem!reader #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby blurb #thomas shelby smut #Thomas Shelby #thomas shelby drabble #peaky blinders blurb #thomas shelby peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders drabble #tommy peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #emsblurbs #cillian murphy masterlist

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ghostlyfleur · 1 year ago

Text

𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡.

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: the sweet progression of steve and his pretty girl’s relationship.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, idiots in love, oblivious!reader, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader. pet names (angel, baby, flower girl, pretty girl, princess, sweet girl). 18+ mdni, smut-adjacent. world building.

word count: ~4.5k

pre-relationship—

steve’s girl friend is a soft spoken, remarkably sweet, gentle soul. she’s shy, way too anxious, so inexperienced that she comes off as innocent. her wardrobe consists of flowy skirts and flowery dresses and soft sweaters and cozy knits, puts flowers in her hairdos like interwoven in braids or tucked in a half-up half-down mess, has this ethereal vibe to the makeup she likes to wear (ie. shimmery eyeshadow in soft colors, highlighter, sparkly lipgloss, white waterline pencil, fairy wing eyeliner designs, and slightly blushy cheeks), wears silver wire-framed glasses at home when not using contacts and steve thinks it brings out her gorgeous eyes even more. she always wears pretty dangly earrings with flowers, her nails painted with glitter nail polish or neutral soft colors, and steve thinks she’s an angel.

the rest of the people in town mostly think her to be weird and unapproachable, with the way she stops mid walk to crouch down and whisper softly to a ladybug she sees on the sidewalk, or when she accidentally bumps into a street pole and yells out a panicked ‘sorry!’ as if she would hear a reply back.

when steve first met his girl, he was enchanted.

she was so soft and beautiful and kind, but also very anxious; something he noticed the first time she walked into scoops ahoy, and steve was so excited to finally talk to the pretty girl that started working at the flower shop down the block that he’s been pining for. the pretty girl’s reaction to his flirting however was of shyness, nervousness, and seemingly scared silence… so steve decided to make a fool out of himself just to see her smile. it was worth it. steve felt as if her laughter was the equivalent of the skies opening up to let sunshine peak through dark clouds. they eased their way into each other’s lives after that. his girl started seeking him out, finding comfort and safety in his presence and caregiving personality, though remaining clueless of his feelings and just how much robin teased him for being a smitten fool.

“pretty flower girl” is how steve referred to her at the beginning, all heart eyes and dreamy sighs. working at a flower shop seems to fit her so entirely, like she’s in her own little world while surrounded by flora. she’s able to tell you the meanings, both positive and negative, of any flower imaginable, of different plants too! keeps a log book and a journal to track her flora friends’ growth, pressed flowers and polaroid pictures of different bouquets, photographs each beautiful arrangement she creates in a picture album.

her home is also completely taken over by pots and plants and gardens and hanging vines, secrets whispered to them while she waters her little friends as needed, full conversations kept that seem to make all the plants bloom and flourish even more. lots of natural light comes in from the many windows of her cabin, surrounded by greenery and trees and a small pond that wild animals often visit, knowing her safe haven is also a safe haven for any animals. the place always smells like whatever she’s baking, the decor homey and filled with crystals and incense and hand painted mugs and vases. greens, yellows, oranges, and tan colors. books balanced on any available surface.

she becomes steve’s girl best friend, and he loves her so much. worships her, really. steve makes it his mission to spoil and love his pretty girl, even if he hides it behind silly flirting and the pretense of friendship.

whenever they’re together, steve and his girl are all the other sees. the gang has a little bet on who will break first, steve or his flower girl.

her sit is always his lap.

steve swears off other girls as soon as he meets her.

he is very affectionate towards her, and she loves to kiss his cheeks.

they often have sleepovers just the two of them.

they’re so close they can just exist together and be at peace.

she’s so supportive of him too, always praising him and hyping him up.

steve is overprotective of her.

whenever one goes the other sure follows.

see, steve’s girl is so sweet on him it drives robin crazy. because robin knows the feelings are reciprocated, but she also knows both steve and his girl enough to know she needs to let them figure this out by themselves. it doesn’t mean robin isn’t their number one fan, though.

steve’s pretty girl bakes him sweets often to bring to him at work to “make your day a little easier, stevie”, she brings him flowers from her job that steve learns to preserve in his room, she gives him her favorite ring that he never takes off. but steve also does little things for his sweet girl— takes care of her and buys her chocolate because it makes her so happy and giddy he falls a little more in love each time. he also reminds her to drink water, buys her favorite snacks for movie night or when she’s on her period, takes her to the movies, drives her everywhere (because she’s his pretty passenger princess) to have some extra time with her.

oh! steve’s girl also has a bunch of homemade gifts that she keeps in a small glass trunk in her home because she’s too shy to give them to her stevie— handmade bracelets, handmade wire rings, pretty things she finds at thrift stores that remind her of her pretty boy, handmade necklaces, small gifts with pressed flowers, letters she writes down because she feels so deeply for her sweet boy that she needs to let it out somehow, and a bunch of other small gifts that she hopes one day she can give to her stevie to show him how much she loves him.

she’s so lovely to her stevie without even realizing, though. she’s demiromantic, you see, and after becoming friends with steve she started to slowly fall for him. the thing is, she knew very well what was happening, she’s very in tune to her emotions, and she fell for him willingly! whereas steve fell for her fast and kept falling.

imagine his girl never had her first kiss… she’s so inexperienced and her sweet persona and gentle demeanor make her seem like the softest person ever. steve is so mesmerized by her.

he flirts with her and is sweet to her and devotes his time to her and spoils her rotten and gives her kisses and hugs and cuddles and all the love he has to give— steve quickly decided that even if they’re ‘just friends’ he’ll still treat her like his princess, give her everything he can and shower her in his adoration until she catches up. and even then, even when it’s so obvious that steve is in love with her, that he blushes and stutters and gets flustered only for her, that he shows her every day just how much he loves her, she remains oblivious.

in her pov, she knows she’s in love with her stevie so she’s going to treat him like the most precious person in her world. which he is. the thing is that she gives him all of her love without ever once considering that he might return it, even as he flirts and quite literally says he’s hers and she’s his all the time, it never even crosses her mind to actually believe it. maybe because she’s trying to protect herself from heartbreak. she just decides that her stevie deserves the world so she’s going to give him all she can.

but she’s so soft with him! holds his face between her hands when talking to him sometimes like she’s holding her whole world on her hands, presses kisses to his cheeks all the time, gives him hugs. she always compliments him, isn’t afraid of telling him exactly what’s on her mind…

“you look so pretty, stevie”

“i’m so proud of you.”

“i missed you lots today!”

“i saw this cute puppy and it reminded me of you ‘cause you’re just as cute!”

“i always prefer your company.”

flower girl is the most adorable sight steve has ever seen! she pouts so prettily whenever she doesn’t get the attention she wants from him, all soft lips and furrowed brows and plush cheeks crossed arms, and steve just wants to pepper kisses all over her face.

her love languages:

she bakes him cookies ; buys him things that remind her of her stevie ; plans these cute little “friend” outings that feel more like dates ; she’s never lacking in her affections though she’s very timid and shy when it happens ; will defend him no matter what ; makes sure to always praise him ; she gets all cranky if someone insults him even playfully ; she’s very shy so she often hides her face on his chest or neck and it makes his heart flutter ; she helps him babysit bc the kids love her ; she gave her stevie a special arrangement of flowers that she created just for him plus a little booklet of pictures of the two of them together that also had pressed flowers on it for his birthday ; she checks in with him every day even if they don’t see each other to make sure her stevie is doing okay ; will stay on the phone with him all night especially if he had a nightmare or a fight with his parents.

where steve’s best friend is all cute and pouty and sweet and clingy and loving but only to her stevie!!!!! and she’s a bit ditzy— talks to animals and plants and inanimate objects like they can answer her, her thoughts jump from one thing to another but steve always entertains her, she skips instead of waking a lot, she dresses all cute and coquette and always has glitter on her somewhere, she gives steve handmade gifts all the time with this shy little smile and blushing and sometimes when the gift is specially meaningful she’ll run away as soon as he accepts it 🥺 she trips over her own feet a lot too!!! so steve has to grip her waist to help her find her footing!!! and it makes her break out in goosebumps!!! and steve is so in love with her, with her ramblings and midnight ice cream cravings and true crime rants and the way she talks about murder and psychopath profiling and laughs at horror movies and has crystals and tarot cards and wants to befriend ghosts, how she gives her stevie little glass bottles with protection spells or anti-anxiety spells or how she always needs to hear his voice before bed.

and she’s so pretty and soft and kind and nice and laughs a lot and everyone loves her— but she never notices how so many people flirt with her, and never notices whenever steve scares possible suitors away, because really she only sees steve!!!!!! and it makes him crazy to see how she blatantly ignores anyone and everyone to focus on him!!!!!

but then one day steve’s girl starts feeling sad and heartbroken because she’s convinced herself that steve still loves nancy so she starts pulling away a little and steve doesn’t understand what he did wrong! robin has to spell it out for him that his girl thinks he still wants nancy when that couldn’t be further from the truth; steve now knows he’s never truly been in love before, not like he is with his angel, and that it was his angel that showed him he deserves someone who loves him just as much as he loves them. therefore, steve does his best to find ways to tell his girl that nancy is in the past, that she has nothing to worry about, but he has to do so while him and his angel aren’t together yet so he slowly breached the subject until he can figure out where his girl stands, if he can make a move, if she’s interested in him too, y’know? like those conversations filled with a deeper meaning and both parties trying to drop hints about their feelings but they’re still too hesitant to be more clear in their affections. for now.

imagine steve spoiling her and making her all giddy and happy and shy and giggly :( i want steve to treat his baby like royalty way before they even get together :( i wanna read about their first kiss and how it makes steve’s knees buckle and how she’s so giggly because it’s her first kiss and he tells her he wants to marry her right then and there and she tells him she never ever would consider being with anyone but her stevie :(

after they get together—

their first kiss happens in what steve considers to be the best night of his life to date.

it was halloween, and he was slightly nervous about going to the fair with not only the kids and robin and eddie, but his girl too. the year before, he stayed in with his angel and robin watching movies and eating junk, which was the perfect night ‘cause he got to cuddle his girl, but last halloween he went out to celebrate didn’t end up being very enjoyable for him… what with having your now-ex call you bulshit, bullshit, bullshit.

however, this is his girl he’s talking about. while it wasn’t a date, simply a hangout with their friend group, steve still considers his girl, well… his. and the fact she insisted on meeting them there herself had him slightly on edge.

she was dressed as a fairy.

steve has never seen anyone as pretty, as mesmerizing. and the way she treated this night, treated him, was driving steve crazy.

first, once she meets everyone at the entrance of the amusement park they agreed to go to, she insists on paying for both herself and steve. literally grabs steve’s wallet from his hand and only gives it back after she pays.

he, of course, only really allows it because she gives him her — in steve’s opinion illegal — pouty puppy eyes that she knows steve can’t say no to.

afterwards, once they all enter and the kids disperse to the various entertainment with the agreement of meeting up later to eat, steve’s girl drags him away from robin and eddie, who were both sporting knowing grins, to a shooting booth where she proceeds to win, suspiciously easily might he add, a stuffed frog for him.

and then she grabs his hand. albeit hesitantly, but she does. intertwining their fingers and everything.

the entire night was a dream for steve, and unbeknownst to him, for his girl too. she had a plan, you see. his angel was pulling out all the stops, even if she was shy and blushy the whole time— paying for the tickets for both of them was number one. followed by winning steve a stuffed animal, holding his hand, sharing fried oreos and cotton candy (again, paid by her), and going to the photobooth. the ferris wheel would be last, but it’s what happens inside the photobooth that matters.

once inside, steve made sure she was sat on his lap. she payed again. the pictures go a little something like this:

1st pic steve is laughing and she’s looking at him like he’s her dream come true which he is / 2nd pic she pushes forward not being able to wait any longer and quickly presses her lips to his a bit messily / 3rd pic is her looking all flustered and shy and doe-eyed while steve has this dazed look in his eyes and his jaw is dropped / 4th pic is steve grabbing her cheeks and kissing her fully, brows furrowed and all.

steve steals another kiss at the top of the ferris wheel, it was giggling and smiling more than kissing, though.

on the drive home, angel makes a stop at their self-assigned star gazing spot where she officially asks steve to be her boyfriend, all flustered and timid but oh so hopeful. another kiss, a resounding “yes” from her sweet boy, and dropping him off with a quick goodnight kiss ends the night, and steve has never been happier.

the fact she planned this whole night, took a chance, romanced the hell out of him, and was so genuine the whole time, looking to make him smile, just because, had steve on a high unlike any other. no one has ever taken the time to spoil him, to do romantic things for him. he’s not used to reciprocity in relationships, but here this angel is professing her love for him and not only saying it but showing him she means it. best night of his life.

and so their relationship begins.

steve harrington just worships his girl, spoils her continuously, and wants to do everything for her. he is overly affectionate and just obsessed with his baby, pictures of her and with her everywhere on his house, his car, his wallet, maybe even a locket he wears with a copy of the picture of their first kiss on it. steve took the photobooth strip and got the second picture, his angel kissing him for the first time, copied and altered to fit into the locket.

everyone in town just knows steve is entirely whipped and he does not care. he is definitely touch starved for his girl, quite a bit jealous, however, but trusts her so much that it just comes out as a sort of possessiveness that isn’t toxic but something both he and, secretly, his angel enjoy. steve always praises her and wants to take care of her because she’s his sweet little angel girl.

steve is also her first everything— first kiss, first date, first boyfriend, first time… and it drives him insane! something about knowing he’s the only one that’s ever had her and the only one she’s ever wanted just drives him up the wall and gets him so needy. so desperate. so whiney and pouty.

something else about steve as a boyfriend is that he’s his angel’s biggest fan — always praising, always encouraging, always in awe of her. will brag about his baby to anyone. randomly brings her up in conversation because she’s all he thinks about and he’s so proud to be hers.

buying her flowers whenever he can so she’ll give him this wide, square smile of hers that takes over her whole face like she can’t control it and her nose scrunches up a bit and he never wants to look at anything but her.

her stevie is really into pda too, can’t take his hands off of her, but nothing extreme; casual touches and pecks on her nose or temple or lips or cheeks, buries his face in her neck often, hand holding constantly!!!!!!, plays with her hair, is always playing with the delicate ‘s’ pendant on her neck that he gifted her and she never takes off (steve has this proud little smile whenever he messes with it).

then there’s the casual dominance— steve tucks her hair behind her ears, ties her shoelaces for her, adjusts the clasp of her necklace, puts her dainty jewelry on for her, braids her hair because she’s always clumsy with it and she prefers his braids over hers, gives her water so she stays hydrated, remembers her meds for her, adjusts her beanie on her hair when it’s cold and she’s wearing one, wipes chocolate from the corner of her mouth because his baby is a messy eater, pulls on her waist when they’re walking so she doesn’t bump into someone or something because she’s too busy talking and looking at him, spoon feeds her when she’s too tired and sleepy and pouty, brushes her teeth for her too when she’s being his cute little tired baby or is in subspace, brushing her hair and treating her like a little doll, his little doll, and loves to shower with her so he can do it for her, loves to drive her everywhere too. she’s his pretty passenger princess and they both take that role very seriously.

and whenever his pretty baby gets all glassy eyed and needy and blushy for him? he melts.

steve has a daddy kink. major one. and when he finally finds his baby, his person, he starts noticing things she might be into for the sole reason of wanting to be the absolute best he can be for his baby. the thing is, he knows she’s entirely new to this and still a bit nervous and hesitant and shy, so he starts by filing things away in his brain to make sure once she’s ready and the time comes that he can treat her perfectly, and give her everything and anything she wants.

his baby is probably a sub, she must be, with how pliable and soft she gets. for sure has an oral fixation, always giving him little kisses and little bites randomly and pressing his hand to her lips so she can softly mouth at them (but will shy away and get flustered when she notices she’s doing this) (she just loves his hands and he knows). steve’s girl also gets all flustered and her breath hitches when he jokingly calls himself ‘daddy’, so he takes that as a good sign because there’s nothing steve wants more in this world than to be her daddy. only hers. to spoil and care for and love his baby to the best of his ability.

she also loves when he manhandles her, he’s noticed— it’s just that steve really enjoys carrying his baby around, loves feeling needed and loves holding her and having her body pressed to his and have her hold on to him, but also he just wants to do things for his baby, doesn’t want her to tire herself out, ever!

she doesn’t need to walk around all the time because her stevie’s here and he won’t have his baby do unnecessary work when he’s around. whenever he grabs her waist and places her on top of a counter or something and stands between her legs? she gets all smiley. steve also absolutely loves how clearly his touch affects her; she hums and melts into him and gets a bit breathless and just tries to bury herself into him until they become one. lots of cuddles and hugs from behind and just being entirely wrapped in each other while wearing the coziest sweaters under the cuddliest blanket are common occurrences.

the main thing, though… is how steve’s shy little girlfriend quickly becomes obsessed with his bulge. loves when her stevie hugs her from behind so it presses against her, or when he has her sit between his legs with her back to his chest, or any time where her stevie is holding her close. he doesn’t even need to be hard for her to enjoy it, i mean, he shows through his jeans even when he’s soft! and she just always thinks it looks so…soft? and chubby? and she just wants it smushed against her at all times.

it takes steve a while to figure it out, but when he does? he’s relentless! pressing up against his baby all. the. fucking. time. just to see her blush and stutter and get all shy… but she also fucking sighs and relaxes whenever he does it, like it’s such a comfort for her? to feel all of him? like it’s all she’s waiting for at all times. and it drives steve crazy how his cute, shy, introverted, virgin girlfriend who giggles all the time and is always flustered by him and hiding her hot cheeks with her hands and is so… clumsy and tentative and nervous when it comes to any sort of affection (which she only accepts from her stevie) ((she definitely hates touch except his)) (((and he knows it too! was one of the things that proved to him his pretty best friend had feelings for him too when they were ‘just friends’))) can be so desperate to feel his bulge against her.

angel also loves that her stevie boy has huge hands! absolutely massive. could-wrap-one-hand-around-your-entire-neck massive, beautiful, strong, soft hands.. and yeah, both steve and his girl definitely have huge size kinks. huge. they haven’t said so out loud yet, but it shows through their actions. steve loves how obvious the size difference is when they’re holding hands, or when his hand is on her soft thighs. most of the time his baby holds his fingers instead because it hurts a little bit to intertwine their fingers for too long and steve thinks it’s fucking adorable. she’s shorter too, so 😵‍💫 her sweet boy goes crazy. teasing, best friend steve comes out sometimes too when he uses her head as an armrest to tease her, or when he full on picks her up to take her somewhere if she’s being a brat or is too lazy, too tired to move.

steve’s angel loves their size difference. so much. it shows when she hides herself against his chest when it’s cold, when she compares hand sizes because “stevie, the difference is just insane!”, when steve smushes her into the mattress when they start fucking later on. steve notices his angel blush or sigh or break out in goosebumps whenever his hands are involved— i mean, can you blame her? his hands are so pretty. she’s always holding and touching and tracing her fingertips over his palms and pressing kisses, biting softly, sucking on his fingers when she’s restless, fidgety, or sleepy.

using steve as a weighted blanket is a must; helps angel when she’s anxious or having a bad day.

to be continued…

── harmo’s footnotes:

please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. steve dreams.

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thragedys · 5 months ago

Text

Midnight Visitor

Sol x Reader

Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)

After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright.

Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.

Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.

Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.

Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.

“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.

“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”

“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”

“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.”

“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”

“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”

“I’ll buy you a—”

“No. Sit down.”

“Ugh, Sol—”

“Rest.”

“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.

“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.

“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”

“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.

“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”

Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time.

As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.

Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?

Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.

It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match.

Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him.

There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.

Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.

His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.

You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.

“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”

This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.

“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”

“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.

“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”

In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.

“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”

“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.

“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not.

You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.

“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.

“He would never do the things I have done for you.”

“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view.

“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.

“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.

…

Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise.

Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you.

“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.

“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.

“I thought you left last night.”

“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”

“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”

“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”

“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.

“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.

“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.

“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.

“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.

The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.

“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”

“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.

“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.

For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.

#tkatb vn #tkatb sol #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back vn #fanfic #sol x reader

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cheollipop · 1 year ago

Text

❅*⋆ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

while the world revelled in the first snowfall of the year — crowding their windows as the sky painted the streets in a blanket of white — your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating wooyoung.

❅ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, men whimpering *drools*, wooyoung is a tease, sub-leaning!reader, cockwarming, creaming, praise, nicknames (youngie, woo; baby, good girl, darling, love), they are so in love i want to throw up

❅ A/N: happiest birthday to my beloved.

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Smoothing your spatula over the cooled top layer, small, golden crumbs adhered to the buttercream as you coated the freshly baked cake’s exterior. You peered outside the window atop the sink, a smile stretching your lips when you’d noticed the falling white specs coating the world behind the safety of your glass pane.

You loved winter. You loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into a swirl of whipped cream, huddling up on the couch with candles burning, blankets engulfing your form while the world around you faded away as warmth seeped into your skin. You loved the anticipation of snow, and the bliss it brought with it when it dressed the streets in a soft, pearly gown. You loved the big jumpers you’d sneak out of Wooyoung’s closet, his scent imbedded into the soft fibres, and the homemade soup burning your tongue as he spoon-fed it into your open mouth. Even with harsh storms swaying the trees from side to side, branches banging against your windows, hail pounding on the hoods of cars, and bleak winds breaching the thick layers of cashmere and fleece, winter with Wooyoung was warm.

Too immersed in taking in the sky’s frosty offering, you’d missed the gentle rustling of keys, the click of the front door, mindlessly spreading the slightly-too-thick coating while socked feet padded their way to your idle form. The sudden hands on your waist startled you, a gallop of buttercream flying off the spatula you were holding as your arm jolted upwards, quickly twisting your body with a stunted inhale to face the intruder. Your initial fright dwindled away as you stood before Wooyoung, eyes closed to avoid the buttercream stuck over his eyebrow, his body trapping yours against the marble counter.

“Woo,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you reached for the tablecloth you had thrown over your shoulder, wiping his face with your lips drawn tight to suppress the laugh attempting to slip through.

“Is this how you treat me on my birthday?” You wanted to kiss his pout away, but you resisted. “I rushed home to my darling because I missed her so much, and she tries to blind me,” he sulked, fluttering his eyes open once you’d wiped his face completely clean.

This time, you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips together, moving to peck the corners before pulling away. “I’m sorry, my love,” you smiled apologetically, not bothering with teasing him on his birthday. His mouth stretched into a smile that mirrored yours, and you leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his small waist while his circled your own. Glancing down at his shirt, about to scold him for the improper number of layers he’d thrown on before leaving, your eyebrows shot up at the blotchy streaks of brown painting the thin white. “What did the guys do to you?”

He tilted his head to take in the state of his shirt, blowing out a breathy laugh before directing his gaze back to your puzzled features. “Oh baby, you should’ve seen my face. They had Jongho push it down into the cake.”

“Mm, you still have some in your hair,” you grinned while picking out the crumbs from his hairline, running your fingers through dark locks to break up the stuck-together strands.

A gust of air blew over your face as it escaped Wooyoung’s parted lips in a heavy sigh, interrupting your ministrations when he dropped his head onto your shoulder to nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla wafting off your skin and occupying your residence. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he muttered against the soft flesh, “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled, “you’ve only been gone for two hours.”

“Too long.”

Your chest warmed, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape while he laid the weight of his head onto your shoulder, breath steady and arms secure around your waist, occasionally tightening as he zoned in and out of the present, content to simply rest within the aura of tranquillity you’d effortlessly granted him. “You’re here now,” you burrowed your nose into his hair, the chocolatey aroma of a wasted cake embedded into the soft locks.

It wasn’t that Wooyoung was fond of winter too — he simply enjoyed spending it by your side. Pretending to be cold so you’d snuggle closer to him, running your hands through his hair and peppering kisses over his face until it scrunched up, blowing hot air over his already-warm palms just to see the corners of his eyes wrinkle as his lips curled with a smile. You'd wait all year to watch the world pile on layers of thick fabric with a sheet of white, quickly melting dust resting on their shoulders, dainty snowflakes bedecking brown locks, irises glinting under the winter sky as you walked down the slippery sidewalk with intertwined fingers swinging between your bodies.

Winter, to you and Wooyoung, meant meaningless walks under the soft snowfall, feeling the momentary chill of the icy flakes on your skin before it reverted back to liquid. Red noses inhaling the crisp air, soft gusts of fog leaving freckled lips as excited words rolled off his tongue — something about a new series he was watching, or was it a movie? The non-prescription glasses he insisted on wearing all but fully beclouded, droplets of melted snow rolling off the plastic frame, his lips cracked with their excessive movement as he kept switching between topics, as though he’d been saving them up for weeks. As though you didn’t share most of the day’s hours in each other’s company, eyes meeting delicate features as the morning sun cast its early rays over your resting figures, and falling shut within each other’s embrace, hoping their gentle touch could carry into your dreams.

Wooyoung knew when to be quiet as well. When the grey, weary skies reflected upon your affect, your warm sheets proving to be a little more difficult to part with, and words a little more difficult to utter. In such instances, Wooyoung offered you peace, safety, warmth. A place to rest and recover, where the passage of time didn’t seem too daunting, where you could find footing at your own pace, with a gaze flooded with unfaltering adoration cast upon you, and arms warmer than the peak of summer holding your trembling form until it found the strength to stand alone, a ghost of a palm on your lower back even as you took your first steps back into the present.

A pleasant exhale warmed your shoulder before Wooyoung’s body retreated partially, arms still encompassing your body while he directed his focus onto the counter behind you. “Has my baby been working on this since I left?” His tone was playful, amused as he peered over your shoulder at the crumb-coated cake left unfinished.

The corners of your lips lifted into a shy smile, cheeks flushed while you nodded. With your eyes fixed onto a particular stain on Wooyoung’s collar, you’d missed the tenderness of his gaze as he took you in — curling in on yourself while he held you in his arms, flour dusted over your sweater and traces of buttercream left at the corner of your mouth from a sneaky taste testing you thought would go unnoticed. Holding your chin with his pointer and thumb, Wooyoung directed your focus back to his face, greeting you with an easy smile before leaning forward to close the gap between your lips. They sashayed like dancers, moulding against one another in a gentle, yet gradually deepening kiss, noses pressing against one another as Wooyoung stepped further into your space.

And just like that, he was gone again, moving back to moon over the blend of abashment and disorientation taking over your features while your lips continued to chase his, the plushness lingering over your senses, and you wanted more. But the hands on your waist were twisting you clockwise until you faced the loitering snowfall once again, Wooyoung’s arms now on either side of you, bracketing your body against the counter while his lips feathered over the cartilage of your ear as he spoke, “come on then, don’t let me distract you.”

Your heartrate picked up, Wooyoung’s body heat — despite the intentional space left between your back and his chest — seeping into your skin, not aiding the flush running up your body at the proximity, the not-so-innocent touches, the teasing, the taste of his lips persisting over yours.

“Woo,” the tone was firm, but your voice wavered before you could stop it, and the telltale stretch of his mouth against the shell of your ear told you all you needed to know — Wooyoung was aware of his effect on you, and would work to exploit his power in any way he could.

Slender fingers reached for the piping bag you’d set aside earlier, twisting one of your hands with his free one to place the tool into your open palm. “Here, I’ll help,” his smirk remained, evident in his voice as he laid his hands over your knuckles, following your lead as you adjusted the bag in your hold until it fit comfortably.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding, steadying your trembling hands and angling your body over the counter, dragging Wooyoung down with you as he watched your measured movements in silence. Pressing down on the sides of the plastic bag, you formed your first buttercream swirl with a meticulous twist of the wrist. You pursed your lips, leaning back ever so slightly to examine it before nodding in approval, bending down once again to repeat the process.

Wooyoung's hand remained perched idly over yours, eyes flitting between your profile and the hands lining his birthday cake’s circumference with — very uneven — swirls of vanilla buttercream. With no trace of your previous bashfulness to be found, Wooyoung found himself mooning over the engaged furrow of your eyebrows, the glossy sliver of tongue held between your teeth, steady hands moving underneath his with no complaint about their added weight; you’ll most likely use that as an excuse to justify the noticeable discrepancy in swirl size, and Wooyoung will most likely allow it, drop the banter and accept you accusations, simply to see the blissful spark lighting up your irises.

Suddenly straightening up into his body, you’d dragged Wooyoung out of his sappy daydreams and back to inspect the finished cake, the decorative swirls appearing more uniform now that they’d been clustered together, the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and caramel so inviting, so homey and pleasant.

As though you’d read his mind, you reached forward to grab a clean fork from the dishrack, not bothering with cutting out a slice before you’d stabbed the cake to scoop out a bite of fluffy, vanilla-coated sponge. Wooyoung's mouth opened without thought as you directed the heaped fork over your shoulder, teeth clanging against the metal as he slid the contents off its prongs. You'd expected the passionate feedback, turning your head as soon as his eyes had fell shut, wishing you’d plugged your ears as soon as the hyperbolic moaning began. Sensing the sway of his body behind you while he chewed loudly, you slid your finger over the coated side of the cake, collecting a bead of buttercream and rotating your body to smear it onto his cheek. The moaning stopped, thank fuck.

The deadpan expression barely lasted, his features melting into that of warmth, affection, love — as though you’d handcrafted the intricate snowflakes painting the world white and placed them into his hands. Wooyoung’s gaze moved to your lips, skipping contemplation, and diving forward to share the sweet remnants of vanilla on his tongue, flicking it over your bottom lip with a sly smile. He trailed tender kisses up your face, starting at the corner of your mouth and up to your cheekbone. And just as your eyes fluttered shut, a warm, buttercream-covered cheek collided with yours, curved nose nuzzling into the warm flesh to smear the sugary cream over your skin. His grip on your waist was unyielding, holding you still while you thrashed in his arms.

“You shouldn’t play with your food, my love,” he grinned, fingers now poking at your sides.

“Woo—” you shrieked and jerked away from his touch, throwing your head back as giggles erupted from your chest. “Please—s-stop!”

He carried on with his ministrations for a few moments more, revelling in the pleasant melody leaving your smiling lips, the joyous expression persisting even after his hands ceased their motion, now resting comfortably over the curve of your waist. It was as though an inconspicuous force drew him to you, finding it laborious to remain detached from your form. The cake on his shirt be damned, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to inhale the scent of your body wash, pressing feathery pecks over the soft skin.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, sighing pleasantly at the gentle gesture as you smoothed your hands down his back, nuzzling your cheek into his clothed shoulder while the scent of musk and chocolate mingled in the air around you.

Settling in the tranquil stillness with Wooyoung, you could feel the taut, lean muscle lining his back beneath your palms, absorbing his comforting heat as you stood together. “How are you not cold?”

He smiled fondly at the slight lisp you spoke with, tucked so close to his body, his shoulder muffled your words. Pulling back, he placed a wet kiss to the tip of your nose when you’d whined about the sudden parting, and his hands reached for yours. He enveloped the icy digits within the warmth of his own, bringing them up to his mouth to blow hot air into the cocoon he’d created around your hands. Closing his fingers around yours completely, he hoped it’d contain the warmth of his breath, lowering them back down to peer at you through his eyelashes, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“What?” you questioned warily, one eyebrow raised and heat rushing through your body.

Despite his intense stare, his eyes — though slightly narrowed — remained soft, one hand leaving yours to smooth down the hair at the side of your head, the scent of chocolate surrounding you once again as he pressed his lips to your temple, the leftover sugary cream on his skin spreading over your cheekbone as he spoke.

“My sweet baby, let’s warm you up, yeah?”

All plans to ravish you vanished as soon as your knees met the carpeted floor between his legs, hurried fingers tugging at his sweatpants, not allowing him the time to settle back down onto the couch cushions before a wet tongue swiped over the precum beading at his tip.

“Baby, you really don’t have to,” he muttered breathlessly, fingers carding through your hair, eager eyes watching your spit-soaked lips approaching his cock.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly took his cockhead into your mouth, fluttering your eyes shut as you lowered yourself further down his length, grunts and choked moans reverberating in your ears and motivating you to carry on. He felt heavy on your tongue, the prominent vein lining his shaft throbbing in your mouth and bitter precum overwhelming your tastebuds. Wooyoung’s thighs tensed under your palms, and glancing up at him, you watched the turmoil his features portrayed, wanting you to move at your own pace, yet the burning want sizzling in his gut begged him to take what he wanted.

“Youngie,” a gentle mumble of his name was enough to drag him out of the battles crowding his mind, snapping his eyes down to your face with parted lips and stunted exhales. Dragging your mouth down his length, you watched as his gaze moved to take in the slow descent, then back up at the sound of your voice, “use me however you want, birthday boy.”

You flattened your tongue over underside of his cock, moving upwards to circle around his head, your exaggerated slurping breaking Wooyoung’s composure, the internal battles in his mind coming to a standstill as your warmth engulfed him, eyes beginning to roll back with every inch you took down the rough plane of your tongue. His hands shot up to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheekbones while he kept you in place, languidly rolling his hips into your mouth, head thrown back over the cushions behind him with burning arousal rushing through his body. You nuzzled your nose into the thick hairs at his base, and even as you gagged, your mind floated in ecstasy with every upward buck of Wooyoung’s hips.

“Fuck—‘m sorry darling, you feel so good,” he admired the skill in which you took his cock with lidded eyes, brows furrowed while he held you down until he felt the last of your oxygen warming the skin of his pelvis.

Wooyoung helped you off his length before you had the chance to tap on his thigh, chest heaving as he watched you regain your breath, his throbbing length coated in your spit and spurting translucent, sticky precum in anticipation. He followed the string of saliva connecting the tip of your tongue to his cockhead, swallowing dryly as his body lit up with all-consuming lust. Watching you suck in the air you’d lost, Wooyoung assumed he’d have more time to recover, to push down the hints of an orgasm come too soon, but the sudden fingers around his base offered him no reprieve. Small, firm tugs on the lower half of his cock built him up to an almost-high once again, his voice thinning — groans turned choked-up moans — and his hips involuntarily jerking into your fist.

“W-wait—baby, ‘m gonna cum, please—” he pleaded, but the small smile you tried to hide told him everything he needed to know: you weren’t planning on stopping. You wanted to hear him whimper and whine, watch him squirm and shiver under your touch until he’d dirtied his clothes with his own cum, until his cock could no longer handle the flaring stimulation. But Wooyoung had other plans, grabbing your wrist and sighing as you relaxed your fingers around his cock, shutting his eyes to bask in the calm before opening them once again to take in your dejected features. Too riled up to play your games, like a carnivorous fauna who’d been mercilessly starved for weeks, Wooyoung wanted to feast. “God, darling, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You thought the couch would’ve been reserved for foreplay and playful teasing, but Wooyoung didn’t bother move to the comfort of your shared bed, simply lifting you off the ground and trapping you under him, the fingers tangled in the hair at your nape tugging your head back to bare your neck while blunt canines left imprints over the delicate skin. Wooyoung’s cock fit snugly between your walls, resting comfortably within your clenching heat while he ravished you, his body weight resting on your pelvis restricting your movement. It seemed as though the raw lust blazing in hooded eyes had dissipated completely, replaced by unwavering patience, gentle pecks and blooming bruises, a throbbing cock seated within your cunt with no plans of moving, of fucking you the way you’d yearned for.

“Youngie,” you whined, a high-pitched whisper that elicited a hum from the man biting into your shoulder. “Please move.”

A breathy chuckle blew over your skin, “I thought the birthday boy made the requests?”

Your expression fell, was it the embarrassment or dejection? Either or, you turned your head to face the backrest, the motion restricted by the hand in your hair, now easing its grip as Wooyoung noticed the flush spreading up from the collar of the flour-dusted sweatshirt he didn’t bother add to the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown over the carpet.

Redirecting back up to your jaw, he planted wet, open-mouthed kisses over its slope, gentle fingers on your chin guiding your gaze back to him. “Oh baby, I’m just kidding.”

His lips settled into an easy smile, soft fringe fanned over his forehead and shimmering beads of sweat forming over the slivers of skin peeking through. The abashment you’d felt faded upon meeting his eyes, void of any judgement, and full of unconditional infatuation. His lips landed onto yours while you were too busy admiring his features — a slow, deep kiss to match the leisure movement of his hips, the drag of his cock over your walls throwing gasoline into the fire burning in your gut. Arm hooking under your knee, he spread you open and laid himself over your lower half.

“What are you—”

“Moving,” a sly smirk paired with a sharp thrust into your welcoming heat, a groan left his parted lips while he watched you melt under his towering frame, the audible squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.

He didn’t give you time to process, elbows digging into the cushion on either side of your head as he built up to a mind-numbing pace, stuffing his cock inside you and revelling in the pleasure painting your features — eyes shut and mouth forming an ‘o’, unable to form coherent words, only a staccato of airy ah’s. His cock was relentless, repeatedly pressing into your sweet spot to light fireworks behind your eyelids, your hips rolling to meet his to create an echo of skin-on-skin between the four walls. The constant squeeze of your pussy around him, the sweet sounds leaving your lips, the firm hold you had around his biceps as he pistoned his hips into you with fervour — Wooyoung’s composure began faltering, and his desperation unveiled itself the deeper he fucked himself into your sopping cunt.

You were so wet, a frustrated whine reverberating in Wooyoung’s throat when he slipped out of you, hands trembling as he hurriedly pushed himself back into your fluttering hole, sighing in unison once your walls were once again moulded to his shape. He lowered himself atop you, his forearms easing some of his body weight off yours while he nuzzled back into your neck, grunts and breathy moans now much closer to your ear, much clearer, sending searing waves of heat straight down to your stretched core.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered into your skin, “taking me so well, letting me use your cunt the way I want. Such a good girl for me,” he bit down on the column of your throat, feeling it vibrate with your moans as he built himself up to the brink of his orgasm, then slowing down to drag you there with him.

“Fuck, Woo, please—”

Your fingers found the hair at his crown and tugged, not to pull him off you, but to hear the whimpers sounding at the back of his throat. You were close too, so fucking close from the relentless abuse of your g-spot, Wooyoung’s cockhead pressing into it with every forceful thrust into your needy cunt while his pelvis continuously brushed against your swollen clit. The familiar fluttering didn’t go unnoticed, your pussy gripping Wooyoung with its every retreat, swallowing him back inside — inch by inch — with an exhale of relief.

“Close?”

It sounded more like a statement, but you nodded anyway, the hands on his shoulders sliding down his bare back to grip the warm flesh of his hips, desperately guiding them into your heat. The gesture, paired with the doe, sparking eyes you looked up at him with, the gentle tone of your voice as whispered pleads and repetitions of his name escaped your pouty lips, dragged Wooyoung over the edge, tumbling down the steep hill of his orgasm until his vision blurred with unshed tears. The rhythm he'd maintained broke, replaced by sloppy, frenzied thrusts into your dripping cunt, a thick ring of cream forming around his cock as he emptied inside you.

He twitched violently between your walls, and the sudden warmth spreading through your lower belly dragged you down that hill with Wooyoung. You clamped down around his length, halting the frantic pounding as he sheathed himself within your cunt, feeding thick ropes of white into your womb while he shuddered above you, unfiltered moans vibrating against the side of your neck.

It felt like you were still coming, even as Wooyoung used your cunt to milk out the last of his cum, heavy dollops streaming out of the stretched hole, your walls continued to flutter around him, thighs trembling at his side and under his palm. Even as he stretched your leg out for you, refusing to leave the comforting warmth of your cunt while he wrapped his arms around you and twisted you onto your sides, your mind still floated within a cloud of ecstasy.

Was it your orgasm, or was it just Wooyoung? His presence, the soft scent of his cologne and the chocolate in his hair creating a bubble of comfort around your resting frame, his warmth seeping into your skin and lighting your heart ablaze. Today was meant to be about him, celebrating him, but love laced itself into everything Wooyoung did, and he couldn’t help but give, even on a day on which he was meant to take.

“Thank you for today,” the words spoken into your hair were unexpected, and you lifted your head to meet dazed eyes.

“What?”

“The cake, and the dessert,” he smiled at the innuendo, leaning down to peck the tip of your scrunched nose. “Thank you for loving me.”

Dumbstruck, you stared up at the man with glassy eyes, tucking yourself back into his chest before he could question the tearful reception of his words. But Wooyoung only held you tighter, pressing a faint yet reassuring kiss over your hair while you sunk further into his arms. Warm. Even in the midst of winter, Wooyoung was warm.

With the fluffy blanket you’d laid over the backrest now wrapped around your bare figures, you rested within Wooyoung’s secure hold, sharing whispered confessions and hearty giggles while the sun started its descent from its locus. And as the sky shifted from blues to a vivid magenta, you endeavoured to maintain the smile stretching Wooyoung’s lips, to watch his lines around his mouth further deepen until this happiness forever etched itself onto his face.

The world continued to celebrate the first snow of the year — blankets of white now melting over the asphalt — but your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating Wooyoung.

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#cromernet #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jung wooyoung fluff #wooyoung fluff #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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midnightwriter21 · 2 years ago

Text

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men having a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt.1

characters: fem!reader x rengoku, giyuu

PT 2 with Sanemi HERE

AN: the long awaited request is finally here!! sorry for the delay! im in college and finals week was crazy! but the semester is over and i'm ready to get back to it with a bunch of new content for you guys! <3

RENGOKU

when he comes home from a mission to find the house completely trashed and a trail of blood leading to the bedroom he freezes

his first thought is that you're dead

someone or something has broken in

and he wasn't here to protect you

immediately blames himself

and poor kyo just can't force himself to walk in the bedroom only to discover your broken bleeding body

his heart couldn't take it

its not until he hears movement and small noises of pain that he pushes the bedroom door open

only to discover you hiding in the corner of the room covered with a blanket

relief

until he pulls the blanket from your head to see what you've turned into

he doesn't react

doesn't talk

doesn't move

doesn't even breathe

just stares at you

until you manage to croak out his name

this snaps his mind into high gear

immediately thoughts of the young Kamado girl are running through his head

she has never hurt a human and seems to do just fine

and if you were going to harm him you would have done it already

quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to avoid the sunlight peaking through the curtains and carries you to the bed to set you down

scribbles a note to the head of the corps to inform him of your condition

and spends the rest of the day and that night comforting and reassuring you because of what had to have been a traumatic night

a week or so passes

you fall back into your old routine of caring for the house

and its quite obvious that you're becoming depressed

no longer able to enjoy the warmth of the sun and being cooped up in the house for your own safety

it isnt until a young man wearing the head of a boar bursts headfirst through the window

breaking the glass, ripping down the curtains

with a "comin through!"

that you realize the sunlight doesn't harm you like it does to other demons

leave it to inosuke lmao

when kyo returns home from another mission around noon

imagine his surprise when his demon SO bursts through the front door into the sun

and into his arms

takes a minute for him to process that you're not burning up

"oh my god we have to get you inside NOW"

the poor man is having a heartattack

but then he sees your smile and hears your laugh for the first time since the attack

finally he's able to realize that the sun has no effect on you

and he's picking you up and swinging you around in a giant hug

i just know he gives the best hugs

i'd let him crush me to death in one

of course kyo is still sometimes crushed with guilt

he blames himself for your transformation in the first place

but the most important thing is that you're safe and happy again

GIYUU

why can't this man ever just be happy

when you don't show up at your usual meeting place with Giyuu in between missions he knows somethings up

he rushes to your home

and there you are

sitting on the steps in front of your house

covered in blood and in tears

it isn't until he gets closer that he realizes what has happened

he has no words

everyone that giyuu has ever loved has been taken from him

and he allowed himself to love you

thats why this has happened

blames himself even though it obviously not his fault

still not speaking he looks at the sky to see the sun

and then back at you

a demon

who isn't affected by the sunlight in the slightest

and isn't attacking him

and then he disappears

when he returns several hours later it's dark outside

and with him he's brought Shinobu and the Kamado siblings

one of which is a demon

Shinobu checks you over and determines that the blood you are covered in is indeed yours

but any wounds you had have already healed

Nezuko senses what you are but seems to know that you're docile and snuggles up to your side as a comfort

and Giyuu just watches quietly

when Nezuko has fallen asleep her brother picks her up giving you a sad smile before he leaves

Giyuu helps you stand and brings you inside

he runs a bath so you can clean urself off

and goes about cleaning the house which was destroyed during your attack

it isn't until you're in bed that Giyuu lays behind you, tugs you close to him, and speaks to you for the first time

"i am staying with you. and i WILL turn you back."

and those two sentences bring you all the comfort in the world

#demon slayer #anime #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer headcanons #tomioka giyu x reader #giyuu x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x oc #giyuu tomioka x reader

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obsessedwrhys · 8 months ago

Note

The Seven and The Boys with forced supe reader(like Billy’s little sister as revenge for billy and the boys constantly causing problems)

Rouge powers reader————powers turn on and off randomly

can absorb life forces and powers(which they can steal(albeit accidentally))

Very stubborn and sarcastic just like her brother

Home lander is probably extra yandere for tons of reasons and keeps the reader in a glass room(enclosure or whatever)(think a zoo exhibit or big aquarium tank without water—— that one room from You or the glass apartment In Supernova for the kid with the same sort of powers)so that he can see his pet/prize/whatever tf he plans to do with them

-🌑

I keep seeing this as a full blown fic in my mind but I don’t have the skills to pull it off so I’d like to see other people’s takes on the idea!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader

ᯓ★ I read your req and I'm intrigued so this is my attempt on it, hope it meets your expectations. This is like a full on story lol (angst, gore, death, killing, looooots of cursing like I'm not even exaggerating, homelander being homelander, some fluff at the end?)

Parts: 2

With your brother's reputation, it's hard to ever live your whole life without the constant need to look over the shoulder. You always liked to tell yourself that after cutting ties with him, it will ensure you your safety, but those words were nothing more than just lies.

Losing Becca changed him completely. You could still recall the last time you spoke to him, the talk regarding your concern escalating into a heated argument.

"I'm telling you! You have no chance against a literal superpowered person! You'll get yourself killed!" You raised your voice, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, but this ain't a life worth livin' for anyways" He brushed your words off like he usually does. You watch in disbelief as he pours himself alcohol.

"Fuck you. You're such an asshole..." You said and he nods at you as he lifts his glass up.

"I'll drink to that" You scoff when he actually drank from his cup, the sound of him sipping ticking you off.

"Okay, fine, get yourself killed! But I won't stand to be here when it happens. I want you out of my life. I never wanna see you. I never even want to hear from you again! You're... you're..." You gasp as you start to sob. He turns to you, nothing but a blank expression on his face.

"Hey... take it easy—"

"No! Don't you fucking tell me to take this shit easy when you just admit to me that you're willing to throw away your life for some blonde american supe! You are a shitty brother! You're just like dad!"

"Don't you fuckin' compare me to that cunt!"

"I fucking said what I said!"

"Fuck you!"

"FUCK YOU!!"

The sound of your heavy breathing filled the kitchen. You could feel your chest rising and falling, your face burning from the overwhelming anger. Butcher sighs at the sight of you as he looks away with his eyes closed.

"You don't know half the things I know sis... you have to understand..."

"No... don't bother telling me. I already know that you'll never change..." You grabbed your things and before he could stop you, you left the house, slamming the door while you were at it.

For the next 8 years, you would find yourself living somehow a happier life. Making friends, going through relationships and heartbreaks, getting multiple jobs to pay for your apartment. It was like an ocean wave since it was never steady but you couldn't deny you've never felt more alive.

However, even on these good days, there were nights you'd find yourself waking up to nightmares. Nightmares of your brother dying. Nightmares of being abandoned. It always left you covered in cold sweats and sometimes you couldn't go back to sleep so you'd just sit by the window or watch some videos online to keep your mind off it.

Even though you convince yourself you were happier.

You never felt secure.

You always felt like something was out to get you.

Especially after you saw the news of him theorised to have killed the senior vice president working at Vought. You couldn't bother to remember her name cause the image of your brother was hauntingly enough. That's when you realised, if they were after him, what if they were also after you?

You stood at the counter of the restaurant you worked at. The job was new as you interviewed for the role of the cashier. Though all these days of dealing with rude customers and having to force a smile is making you want to rethink a different job. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens.

"Welcome!" You said as cheerfully as you can. Instead of searching for a table to sit, the customer approaches you.

"I'm sorry but where's the restroom? I really need to go" The customer spoke, he was wearing an awfully lots of layers, even shades indoors.

"It's just at the back to the right, there's a huge sign, it's hard to miss it" You smiled and the customer stares at you for a while before nodding.

"Thank you"

Finally, he leaves and you couldn't help but be relieved. Why were you holding your breath in the first place? After a couple more hours of standing around and smiling, your shift was done. You did your daily duties and cleaned up the place, making sure it was clean before you leave.

"Bye (Y/N)! Don't forget about our hangout this Friday night!" Your friend spoke as she leaves first.

"Trust me I'm looking forward to it!" You replied before heading to the back of the building to throw the trash away.

You were on your way to the huge bins until you felt the trash bag become lighter. You stare down and was annoyed the second you saw that the bag had tore. It's settled, you're getting a new job after you get your salary. You crouched down and tried to think of ways to solve the issue.

Once you stood up, you felt a sharp pain on your neck. Before you could even do anything to find the source of the pain, you collapsed. The last thing you could feel before becoming unconscious was the touch of someone catching you.

....

"Will it work?"

........

"We've only tested on rats. We're not sure sir"

...........

"Do I have to rephrase? If she dies, you fucking die with her, you understand?"

...............

"Yes sir"

.....................

"Good. Now do what you're only good for, you fucking worthless piece of shit"

...............................

Lights... knives... syringes... you slowly awoke on the floor as faint images of what you would recall as a memory began flashing in your head. Did that happen? It felt real. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple of time to register the room you were in.

You were... in a cage?

You looked around, the walls and floors made of white marbles which made it cold when your skin made contact with it. Now that you realised, you were no longer in your uniform, you seemed to be wearing some kind of gown patients would wear for surgery.

"Morning sunshine!" Your body jumped when you heard a familiar voice, a voice you only heard on the tv or radio shows. You stare at him as he walks to the center, a few feet from your cage.

It was Homelander. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face to the person behind the reasons of your brother's rampage.

"Did you rest well?" He asks, an eary grin on his face. You looked around the inside of your glass cage.

"Couldn't you have given me a mattress?" You said. Your concern catching him a bit off guard but he didn't show it.

"Well, we tried to give you something more comfortable to sleep on but it seems like anyone who tried to even touch you ended up well... what's the word for it... withered. Dead. Nothing but a corpse suck dry of it's life" He said but you had no idea what any of his words meant.

"Is this some joke?" He chuckles.

"No. No joke (Y/N). I'm simply just giving my hypothesis on your new powers"

Powers? You have to be high right?

Did whatever pain that you felt was the mark of your death?

Is this some sick twisted illusion of yours created in hell?

"Yeah right... and I'm fucking Beyonce. Would you like to see my collection of Grammys?" You said sarcastically, clearly not taking anything seriously.

Homelander doesn't say anything but just laugh, since you were clearly convinced this was hell and that you were dead, you laughed along with him. He trembles his shoulders as if he's cold, that devilish grin still on his face.

"Wooo! You're a jokester aren't you (Y/N)? I know I'm just gonna love you. How about I bring you a gift as a symbol of our blossoming friendship?" He asked but he had already left the room. Your answer never even needed at all.

As your laughter died down, you were left alone in the room. You felt high. Too realistically high. Were you pumped with drugs? Shit... you grabbed your head as you tried to process the feeling until you heard the sound of a high pitched scream. You turn your head to find it to be your friend from work. She was shoved into the room and right when she stood up to leave, the door was shut.

"Let me the fuck out! You fucking bitch! You promised me weed!" She slammed on the door a couple of times after attempting to twist the doorknob open.

"Cleo?" She turns to you, her masacra ruined from her tears.

"(Y/N)? Holy shit what happened to your hair?" She said and you were confused until you checked to see the front strands of your hair now dyed white.

Okay now what in the actual fuck is happening...

"I don't know...? Why are you here?" You questioned.

"Some fucker promised me weed for some cash. I should have known better when I saw how cheap it was" She sighs as she sits against the door.

Suddenly the glass door on your cage sprung open. The two of you exchanged confused expressions. Is this some kind of trick? You wondered but either way you stepped out from your cage and began to approach your friend. She sighs as she curls up into a ball.

"What the fuck even is this place...?" She asks after you finally sat down beside her. You rubbed her arm to provide some comfort.

"I don't know... this feels real and fake at the same time. Hey, if by any chance we were in a puzzle just like in Saw, how much do you wanna bet who'd win—?" You nudged her playfully but instead of getting a response. She falls over.

Her face was pale white. Eyes dilated. The veins on her body growing visibly purple. The sight left you in shock and you quickly grabbed her by the shoulder to jerk her a few times. No words left her mouth except sounds of gasping, as if the air was getting sucked out of her lungs.

"Cleo! What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!" You cursed and it didn't take long until her body grows limp. Like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin left.

Afraid the same would happen to you, you quickly ran into your cage. You sat at the corner, trying your hardest not to look at your friend. That was real. This isn't some stupid trick set up by Satan. This is fucking real.

But why is this happening?

Why you?

The glass door slammed shut and the noise made your body jump. The door to the room opened but got stuck at the weight of your friend's corpse. You could hear the sound of disgust come from Homelander as he ends up kicking body aside to be able to open the door fully.

"So... did you like my gift?"

"What the fuck did you do? Did you poison her?" You said which he seemed offended at.

"Me? Oh please, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes and I choose to poison some fucking nobody? I mean look at her" He chuckles, his eyes staring at the corpse of what was your friend.

His tone and words growing a small wave of anger within your chest.

"What do you want from me?"

"You know what I want" He said, the smile on his face gone. He was now serious. His gaze cold enough to send shivers down your body.

"(Y/N) Butcher. Butcher. I didn't know he had a little sister" He took a step closer, then another, until he was face to face to the glass, staring down at your figure hiding away in the corner.

"He really doesn't get scared huh? Not afraid of death, to take a life, not even me. And well... since he fucking hates supes so much, then I might as well make his beloved sister one. If I can't strike fear in him, you will" Homelander spoke, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. As if all of this was bringing him some sick enjoyment.

"Everyone will be the pawn and you'll be the queen... so save your strength. You're gonna need it sweetheart" He turned around and as he leaves, he stares at the corpse for a quick moment. Even from inside the cage you could hear him shout for the people working to clean the body.

Fuck... this cannot be your life now...

You're now an animal kept in a cage.

Hours progressed to days then months. The only thing keeping you entertained was... the toilet? Aside from that was the visits Homelander would pay you every now and then to make sure you were alive. It almost seemed like he had expected you to be dead by now but you weren't, which he's impressed about.

You laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling. You were bored so you decided to try to count from 1 to 10000 this time. Just as you got to 482, the door opened and you turned to see it wasn't Homelander but rather a worker. Assuming he's just here to clean, you turned back to the ceiling to continue counting.

"Pssh, ma dame, do you hear me?" He knocks on the glass, his french accent caught your attention.

"I don't care. I'm not gonna strip for you"

"Nono! That's not why I'm here, your brother, Billy Butcher? He sent me here" His name striking something in you. You got up as your eyes are slightly widened.

"He knows I'm here?"

"Yes... he's here as well. He's gonna try to get you out of here"

Just as he finishes talking, the glass door sprung open. He gets in the cage and reaches for you but right as you reach for his hand, you remembered you weren't the same anymore, you were cursed, so you quickly pull your hand away. Your action causes the man to tilt his head in confusion.

"Do not worry, I'm not here to hurt you" He tries to take a few steps closer but you quickly stepped back.

"No.... no stop! That's enough!" You raised your hands gesturing him to stand where he's at.

"Don't touch me..." You added and he stares at you for a moment before taking a few steps back until he's out of the cage.

"Okay... but you must follow me. We don't have much time left" He said, walking out of the room and you hesitated for a while before following after him.

When walking down the hallway, you couldn't help but look around the area. This was your first time seeing the place you've been trapped inside for supposedly months. As you followed the strange man who saved you, you noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone over his earpiece. Was it Butcher?

After managing to sneak past several guards and having a few close calls, you two finally made it out from one of the back doors. You hurried as you followed the man somewhere. You couldn't believe it. The feel of the wind and the smell of the grass was making you wish you appreciated the outdoor more.

"Were you noticed?" His friend who's been on the look out asked. He shakes his head.

"No" After hearing his reponse, his friend turns to look at you.

"I'm M.M.... C'mon, your brother put in a lot to save you" He began walking away and the two of you simply went along.

He did?

"I haven't introduced myself. I'm Frenchie. It's nice to meet you" The man who saved you earlier said with a smile and you weakly smile back.

The moment the three of you reached a van parked in a safe area. The door slide open and your eyes widened once you were locked eyes with someone familiar. Yet he looked so much different now. He grew a beard. You had to admit, it made him look less ugly.

"(Y/N)..." He got out of the van and was ready to embrace you but you quickly avoided his grasp. This causes him to stand there with his arms hanging there awkwardly.

"Ooookay.... get in" M.M told Frenchie and they did just that, sliding the door close to give you both the privacy.

"All these years and you still hate your ol' brother" He jokes as he drops his hands down to his sides, but it was clear that he was upset at your actions and trying to hide it.

"Don't touch me"

"I got it"

The two of you stood there and you were staring at him a little too hard. Thoughts racing in your head like a racetrack. What the fuck has he been up to these years and how did he even find you?

"So... are we jus' gonna stand here and wait for 'em to realise you're missin'?" He nods at the facility nearby and you sigh.

"You're taking me home" You walked over to the passenger seat but the sound of Butcher clicking his tongue made you stop halfway in your tracks. Now you were standing in front of the van.

"Not gonna happen. Is your head loose of screws sis? They know who you are now, which means they know where you live. You're gonna be stayin' with me" He said.

Shit... there's really no chance of a normal life now. You really are cursed.

"Stay with you? With these guys?" You point at the van and from the front of the vehicle, you could see his friends all huddled in the back, the whole time they've been secretly listening to the conversation but once you pointed at them, they tried to act as though they haven't been doing so.

"They can protect you"

"I don't need protecting. The last thing I need is someone doing that"

"Oh really? Then mind sharing your experience in there? Was it a luxury? How much longer do you think you could have lasted if I hadn't found you" He took a few steps closer and you gave him a warning look.

"You're my sister... you think a few fights is gonna change that?" He tried reaching for your shoulder and you quickly dodged it. Failing to notice, tears were beginning to well up in your eyes because deep inside, you were desperately in need of comfort, a hug, anything physical but you couldn't even have that.

"You can't touch me... nobody can.... f-fuck... I killed my friend just by touching her..." You began to sob, your hands grabbing onto your face in an attempt to hide your expression. A frown appears on his face.

"What the fuck did they do to you...?"

"They made me a freak! They gave me these fucked up powers!! I don't want this...!" You cried, wishing this was another of your nightmares and that none of this was real.

"It's okay... come here..." He began to step closer to you but you were too numb from the feeling to even react.

Taking off his coat, he puts it securely around you before wrapping you in his arms. For the first time in months, you finally felt the presence of another person's embrace. The warmth felt so good. It was like you were melting from it. Your sobs grew weak as you nuzzle onto his chest, the fabric separating the contact of your skin with his. This was everything you needed right now.

"We'll get through this... these powers of yours ain't gonna scare me away" He said, rubbing your back gently.

"Thank you..." You muttered.

After you escaped and made it safely away from your prison. Homelander was alerted of your escape a few hours later. He arrives at the facility, walking down the hallway as the doctors walking by were scared to see him and trying their best to avoid his sight. Once he walks in the office of the head security, the man sprung up almost instinctly.

"Sir" He greets him. Homelander doesn't say anything but stare at him... before breaking into a smile.

"Great job, at least you're good at failing at your job. Now show me" He walks over to the guard's side who's hurrying to click a few things on his computer to show him what he came here for.

"The tracker we planted in her is working well and fine. She's currently in a vehicle heading somewhere"

"Good... it's like sending a cat to a bunch of rats" Homelander then gave the man a strong pat on the shoulder.

"Do we go after them sir?"

"No, keep an eye on her for now. I'll tell you when the time is ready" Without any further discussion, he left the office. A plan already set in his mind.

(I might make a part 2 but I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, it'll be sort of fluff where the boys figure out her powers, some angst? Idk, tell me if you think I should)

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