#she looks worried to him because she can also feel him trembling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notafunkiller · 8 months ago

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she chose me

Summary: Steve's hopes get crushed when he wrongly assumes you'd choose him over Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x agent!female reader

Warnings: 18+, no condom (but f is on birth control), teasing, pet names, jealousy, sergeant + sir + daddy kìnk, vibranium arm kìnk, language, degrading, praising, no mention of y/n etc.

Word Count: 6.9K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it! This was inspired by the "She chose me." TikTok trend.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You’re all quiet, watching the back and forth between Cap and Bucky. Not even Sam intervenes.

“You didn’t-”

“This is just not gonna work, Buck.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, with an expression you like to describe as bitchy. He’s so sassy without even intending to, and you wonder how bitchier he’d be if this wasn’t his best friend talking.

“Let’s see if people agree.”

He looks around waving at you and the rest of the team while Sam just snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.

But you’re not amused because you have no idea how to handle this diplomatically.

“Whose side are you on?” Steve’s tone is deep and authoritative, making you feel a little uneasy.

You don’t know how to talk to Avengers sometimes. You are on friendly terms, even when you train. Sam always cracks jokes, Steve shares stories and gives advice, and Bucky is Bucky. Nat and Sam call him The Machine for a reason. But he’s a really good professor and an even better observer. He pays attention to every recruit and remembers what they need to work on. You find him extra intimidating because he’s also the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. No exaggeration. And it’s not in the usual clean and golden boy way you are used to, anyway. He’s been through shit and it’s showing in the way he carries himself and doesn’t talk much when it’s not needed.

But you pay attention too, and this is why you think you were chosen to lead the recruits for this mission. You are on good terms with the Avengers, and Bucky probably approved the idea of working with you because you didn’t piss him off like most do. You know he hates chit chat, you learned how to read most of his stares and to not take it personally when he makes remarks about your fighting skills. They’re not your strongest asset, but you have a flair and you come up with the best solutions under pressure. You managed to pin him down once for a few seconds, and that is probably your greatest achievement.

But in moments like this, you don’t know how to say things without upsetting one side.

“You won’t get in trouble, don’t worry,” Bucky adds confidently. You’re not surprised when four out of your six colleagues agree with Bucky. They explain quickly why, emphasizing how much faster and efficient it would be if you followed that route, but their voices are still trembling. And you get it. Telling Captain America to his face you prefer his best friend’s plan over his will always be a risk. But if he gets mad, that says more about him as a leader than about anyone else.

Sam raises his hands in the air defensively, probably enjoying this as a show, but based on the looks he shares with Bucky, it seems like he agrees with him too.

You try to find your words, knowing you’re the last one from your team to speak, but before you can even open your mouth, Steve already smiles, pointing at you with his index finger. “Look at this, though! She agrees with me… She chose me.”

His grin is cold and a little arrogant. What you don’t notice, though, is the intention Steve had when he decided to use those exact words, but Bucky does. And he clenches his jaw at the same time his vibranium hand curls into a fist; a silent response to the not-so-innocent assumption that Steve made.

After a few seconds, Bucky leans in, his gaze steady and confident. “Did she?”

There is no way you would pick Steve’s plan. You are too smart and you have too much integrity to pick his side just to kiss his ass. He raises an eyebrow at you this time, a confident smirk forming on his lips. “Did you really choose him? You really think his plan would work better, doll?”

You feel surrounded by Bucky… attacked even. Your cheeks are getting hotter, too, and you know there is nothing you can do to hide your redness. Doll… He called you that when he turned you again on your back the day you managed to pin him down. It’s something about the way he says it that makes it absolutely deadly. Your first instinct was to be offended, but you reminded yourself he is a man born in 1917. He lived his twenties in the 40s, and doll was used as slang for sweetheart.

Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly, directing your response to Steve. “It’s not about choosing sides, but considering all perspectives for the best outcome. And your plan, Captain, has its strengths, but I’m inclined to agree with Sergeant Bucky.” You bite your lip. “It’s about finding the most effective strategy for the mission, not a personal preference of any kind.”

Steve’s smile falls off, but your attention shifts back to Bucky’s grin that lightens up his face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Well, then,” Steve sighs. “Can I have a word with you in private?”

You don’t realize he’s speaking to you until he says your name.

Surprised, you jump. “Yes, of course.”

Steve leans back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips as you write down the last details. “You know, I value your insights on the mission.”

You look surprised because how can he value your opinion when this is your second mission only? He’s Captain America!

“Oh?”

“I trust your judgment, and your training is going great. If you and the team chose Bucky’s plan, then we do it.” You see his jaw clench, though, so you know it’s not easy for him to say it. Even if it’s his friend… interesting. “Maybe, when all is over, we could grab a cup of coffee and talk about other things. What do you think?”

You’re silent for a couple of seconds, trying to realize if he means it in the way you think he is. There is no way, right?

Just in case, you offer him a friendly smile, “Thanks, Cap! I value our teamwork too. Coffee sounds great after. It could be a good way for all of us to unwind as a team.”

He nods, sighing. “I’m glad you’re on board. I’m looking forward to that coffee, even if it’s with the whole team. And please, call me Steve.”

So he was flirting…

“Thank you,” you pause as you stand up. “I’m gonna talk with Sergeant Barnes so we can get things ready for tomorrow. Have a good night, Steve!”

You knock only three times before the door opens and a Bucky dressed in shorts and a white tank top lets you in with a smirk.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you nod as you take a step inside his bedroom. He only stays here before and after missions when he is too tired to go to his apartment, so you don’t expect to see any personal objects there except for a few clothes.

“What happened to Bucky?”

You look at him surprised, tightening your hold on the tablet you are holding.

What?

“Sir?”

Bucky closes his eyes for a second. “Earlier, during the meeting, you called me Sergeant Bucky.”

Shit!

Maybe you should start calling him Sergeant Barnes in your head as well to avoid these fucks up. You feel so embarrassed that you want to disappear. You don’t want him to think you disrespect him in any way. His rank carries a lot of weight and trauma.

You clear your throat, slightly flustered. “My apologies, Sergeant Barnes. It won’t happen again, sir.” You offer him an apologetic smile while trying very hard to maintain a professional tone.

Bucky’s smirk softens as he places his flesh hand on your shoulder. You feel your legs transforming into jelly.

“My point was, doll, there is no need to be so formal. We’re off-duty here, and titles aren’t necessary. Just call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky,” you smile. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but I came to discuss the plan for tomorrow. I talked to Steve and we agreed it would be wise for you to lead the way as Mr. Wilson-”

“Steve?” Bucky interrupts before you can finish your sentence. He doesn’t even bother to look at your tablet, either.

“Yes, we talked in the office.”

“No, I get that. But you call him Steve? What happened to Cap?” Bucky knows that might sound really childish, but he can’t help it. What is Steve trying to do?

Was it some kind of test? Did you misunderstand everything with Steve?

“Oh, Cap allowed me to call him Steve earlier. I am sorry if it sounded disrespectful.”

He squeezes your shoulder even before moving his hand to your chin, raising your face, and you feel yourself blushing again.

The blue of his eyes is so intense that you can’t see how anyone would be able to survive it.

“You apologize too much, doll. I don’t like it.”

You can’t breathe. “Sor-” You pause, realizing he is right. Apologizing is second nature to you. It feels wrong when you don’t, and you do it without even thinking about it. “I guess I do that a lot. I’ll work on it, Bucky.”

“I’m not your teacher right now, doll.” He smiles, letting go of your chin. “Just remember, we’re not all about formalities here. Relax a bit.”

Easier said than done. But you need to keep it together and ignore the urge to grab his face and finally kiss him. So you focus on talking about the mission and the members of the team. You talk about all of your colleagues, and Bucky helps you take notes. He switched so easily from friendly to the sergeant mode, which is fascinating.

He explains step by step your positions, the way things are gonna happen and even two back up plans. Two!

You’re not overwhelmed by the amount of information, but you’re quite surprised by how much he talks and how well he answers every possible question any of you could have. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak for more than a few seconds continuously so you try to focus on every word.

Only when he finishes and you close your tablet after sending everyone the plan, do you see him relaxing again.

With a smirk, he asks you, “How did Steve take it?”

“He was fine with the plan, even suggested if we feel like doing it, to get one or two more members. But based on what you said, we won’t need it.”

“He has a point, of course, but if you said you don’t think you need it, good.” You try not to stare at his lips as he speaks, but it’s so hard. “And I meant how he took that you chose my plan. That you chose me.”

You meet Bucky’s gaze, trying to keep your composure, “Steve seemed more than okay with it from what I saw. He values the team’s decision. Plus, it’s not about choosing sides, and-”

“And not a personal preference of any kind,” he interrupts just to quote you, and you don’t know if you should feel flattered he remembers word by word or to prepare yourself for a negative reaction. To be honest, your head is spinning and him being so close makes it worse. “I heard you very well, but I’m curious…”

He extends his hand and carefully tucks your hair behind your ears. You swear you can hear your own heartbeat going crazy. And if you do, so does he.

“About what?”

“Would the answer be different if it was about personal preferences, doll? Would you choose him?”

You freeze. You are simply in shock because this cannot happen to you. From Steve asking you out earlier to your crush basically doing this. You’re confused and a little tired, but you didn’t imagine all of this. Does Bucky want you? Is that it?

You take a deep breath praying you won’t choke on the words. “In a hypothetical scenario based on personal preferences, Bucky, I would still not pick him.”

Your voice is trembling, but you maintain eye contact even after admitting it. You didn’t choose Bucky’s plan because of your crush, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or exposed. He’s the one who let you call him Bucky, who touched you and asked you that. You don’t know if he counts romance as a personal preference, but there is an urge inside you to find out. You wonder how he’d taste, if he’d kiss you back if you kissed him first, how your mission would be if you crossed the line. Your thoughts are foggy.

“So you’d choose me.”

You clear your throat. “Yes.”

“Over Captain America.” His grin is so boyish and cute that it makes you smile. He looks younger and less… burdened when he gets like this. Bucky chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Well, well, well. Looks like I got someone not kissing Captain America’s ass for a change. That’s really rare. You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”

You mask your gasp with a cough, deciding to play along, a sly grin forming on your face. “Maybe I just have a thing for underdogs.”

Bucky’s eyes light up with amusement to your annoyance but also excitement, and he leans in, taking the tablet from your hand and placing it on the floor without a care. “Underdogs, huh? Ouch, that hurt a little. I thought I was your favorite super-soldier.”

You can’t help but giggle, feeling enough encouragement from his reaction to touch his vibranium arm just to feel it. You got the chance to do it only for a couple of seconds and it always fascinated you, especially the golden pattern. The fact he can feel everything because it’s connected to his nerves is insane to you. It probably is to him too. “Oh, you are. And my favorite teacher too. But a little competition never hurts, Sergeant Barnes.”

You can see he feigns offense. “Competition, huh?” Bucky’s playfulness turns into a serious tone as he adds, “Well, let me show you why I’m the only choice.”

And without warning, he closes the distance between you and kisses you.

You gasp, taken aback, but you bring your hands to his face and hip before you deepen the kiss. He’s not as gentle as you expected, his left arm flying to your ass and bringing your hips closer to his immediately.

You moan when you feel his hard on so close to your pussy, and tug on his hair a little.

“Aren’t you a naughty girl?” He lowers his lips to your jaw. “I could basically smell how wet you got earlier as soon as I called you doll. And so did Steve.”

You want to open your eyes and tell him to stop talking about his friend. You don’t want to be turned off, but he already continues.

“He thought he stood a chance with my girl.”

“Your girl?” You whimper when his teeth graze your neck before his tongue licks on the spot. He intends to leave a mark, you have no doubt, and you absolutely love it.

“Mine.” His whisper makes you shiver. “I want to mark you. The thought of having you covered in hickeys during the mission makes me so hard it almost hurts. Gonna show everyone you belong to me.”

“Do I belong to you, Sergeant Barnes?” You take a step back but let your hand linger on his chest teasingly. “Because I don’t remember you asking me to dinner.”

Bucky grins. “Dinner is a classic move, and I adapted very well to the present. But of course I can stop with the kisses right now, and we can have some late dinner.”

You roll your eyes at his unbelievably good answer. Fucker!

“This is not what I meant, Barnes, and you know it.”

“I don’t know it. But I want to know something else.”

You don’t even doubt he means something dirty because it’s too obvious.

“Like what?”

“Like how your pretty pussy tastes while you come all over my face.”

You gasp at the no-filter words. You’re so used to Steve’s warning you to use proper language, that you did not expect it.

“I thought men your age were all about being proper and refined… Don’t they teach subtlety in the 40s etiquette class or did you skip it?”

You tease him on purpose, and he knows it. You are well aware what a nerd he was in school. Such a nerd that it was displayed in the museum. You snort. You were a nerd too, so you love it.

Bucky chuckles, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he brings his hands to your pants, unzipping them without warning. Holy. Shit. The way you love this. He reads your body language very well and he has his super soldier senses.

“Well, doll, proper and refined went out the window with the 40s, right? Because otherwise you’d not be standing here letting me undress you.”

You raise your eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. His energy is so light, and he looks like a man without a worry in moments like this.

“You’re the one who offered to show me what the little upgraded version of you can do, after all.” You take off your shoes before pulling down your pants as soon as he drags them to your ankles. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck James Bucky Barnes! “Why would I say no?”

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, doll. Gonna make sure you have the time of your life.”

You snort, amused by his eagerness, and decide to take off your shirt yourself to see his reaction. And he doesn’t disappoint.

He grins like a child, his hands flying straight to your back without taking his eyes off your chest. And before you know it, your bra is on the floor and Bucky cups your breasts, bringing your left tit to his mouth.

If you gasped when you felt the cold touch of the vibranium, now you moan loudly, enjoying the way he licks around your skin. He avoids your nipple on purpose, so you decide to take matters into your own hands quite literally and get a grab of the top of his hair, forcing him to suck on your nipple.

“Fuck! I didn’t expect you to be so whorish,” you say without realizing, and you feel his snort and breath on the wet patch he left with his tongue.

Bucky’s grin turns into a sly smirk. “This is what you call whorish? I guess I’ll give you an experience you won’t ever forget.”

“Talk less, do more.”

You want to enjoy more of this. You have a mission in a few hours, and it might be just a one time thing anyway since he is Bucky Barnes. You don’t want to get your hopes high.

Bucky lets go of your breast with a pop and moves up, raising your head so he can kiss you.

It’s electrifying, and desperate, and not enough. You move your hands to the bottom hem of his tank top and lift it, interrupting the kiss so you can take it off completely. You just want to feel him, all of him.

You step back for a second, wanting to look at him properly, but you notice a change in his eyes that he, of course, tries to mask.

“Why are you nervous? You look like a fucking god! I should be nervous here.”

Bucky’s eyes flicker with vulnerability.

“I guess I’m not used to someone seeing my scars or my,” he waves toward his vibranium arm, and you frown.

“I will sound totally weird, but they all make you really cool, Serge.” You trace down a few scars when you see he is completely relaxed and continue. “Do I have to lick them all to make you believe me?”

You move your hands under his shorts before he can answer, though, finally touching his cock. You both moan at the feeling. He’s hard and thick, and the head is wet. You bring your fingers to his lips, smearing some of the precome before leaning in to suck it off.

You’re not prepared for his moan or for the way he attacks your mouth, and definitely not for him to snap your underwear using his flesh hand. Not even his vibranium one!

You moan into his mouth. He makes you feel like you’re floating and you need to fuck him right then.

“You’re not just whorish, you’re a whore!” You pause when you feel his fingers close to your entrance. “No wonder why you didn’t belong in the 40s.” Then you move, allowing him to touch you. You don’t realize what you said, and when you do, in the middle of dragging his shorts down, you curse yourself in your mind. It sounds like the most disrespectful thing ever. This man’s fate was changed by monsters who cryogenically freezing him and brainwashing him, and you are selfishly talking as if he belonged to you. “I’m sorry that was awful of-” But he interrupts you before you can get a chance to properly apologize.

“You like that, don’t you?”

A wave of shame surges through your body. Your cheeks are burning.

“I’m really sorry,” you take your hands off his shorts and look away, not even peaking at his cock. You ruined it, didn’t you? “I will just go.”

Bucky shakes his head, puffing. “For such an amazing agent, you’re not a good room reader, are you?”

Your eyes finally drop to his cock, which you’ve been trying to avoid in the last minute out of shame, but there’s no need anymore since he’s teasing you. He’s just a bit longer than average, and he’s really thick, and the veins do not make it ugly at all. You are curious how it’d feel in your hand, how much it’d twitch, how Bucky would moan.

“You aren’t a good room reader, either then, Barnes, since I’m not getting dicked down and my hair pulled, am I?”

Something snaps in him, and it’s visible in his eyes. You don’t know what to expect so you just watch him. But you can’t. He is so quick that, despite your crazy training, you don’t anticipate his move. His hand wraps around the hair from your nape and fists it hard enough for you to move along with him.

“Wanna be dicked down? Fine by me, get on your hands and knees.”

You’re surprised, of course you are, but his tone is firm and you find yourself nodding and doing what he told you. You know you can say no; there is nothing in Bucky’s energy that makes you feel unsafe or as if you have no choice.

At the same time, he lets go of your hair just so he can take off his shorts completely.

“Are you not gonna make sure I’m wet enough for you?” You ask when you see him getting closer to you again, even though you are very wet. You just want to push his buttons.

“I can smell you if I focus on it, let me remind you.” He smiles. “I know you’re soaked, and you wanna be dicked down. Or are you backing off?”

Challenging prick!

You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of your dick.”

“Good, because he wants to be friends with you.”

You close your eyes, cringing. “God, you were this close to turning me off.” You raise your hand in the air, putting your weight on the left one as you bring your thumb and index finger close to each other to show him exactly what a thin line this was.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you forget it in a second.”

Your first instinct is to want to tease him about the second remark, to ask him if this is how long he can last, but you’re too horny now. And you also need rest for the mission tomorrow.

“How, uh…” You pause not knowing how to ask this properly. “Can you, uh, make babies?” You cringe at your words. “I mean, widows can’t… and I just wanted to know if we need a condom to be extra careful since you might be extra fertile because I am on the pill and I have no idea how sex with a super sold-”

Bucky’s lips press against yours suddenly, making you stop talking.

“Breathe.”

“I’m breathing,” you whisper and he cups your face.

“Not enough. We can use a condom if you want, but I’ll need to check where I can find one. Or we can go bare if you trust me… I can pull out and you are already protected, so there shouldn’t be a problem, I think.” He pauses to kiss your lips again. “But we can still use a condom anyway to be extra careful as you said.”

You frown at that, suddenly more desperate to feel him bare than ever before.

“No, I trust you. I have never done it without a condom before, and I assume you didn’t have much time to uh… have sex.”

Bucky snorts amused. “Now why do you assume that?”

“You look like you haven’t been fucked since 1945.”

The fact he doesn’t even deny it makes you feel even bolder, so you reach for his cock and place your thumb on his wet head while wrapping the rest of your hand around the length. “Are you gonna even last for a second once you’re inside me, Sergeant Barnes?” You snort when you see him trying to hold back his moan by biting his lip. It makes you feel happy. “Or do you even manage to get inside me before- ahh!” He is predictable this time as he pulls your hair, so you laugh.

“Are you familiar with this whole red, yellow, green color code?”

You gasp. “Yes, read about it, never needed it. But how do you know that?”

“I read about it, too.” His grin is so wide and beautiful that you melt again.

“Quite naughty of you, Serge. Reading dirty books. Needed some ideas?”

Bucky smirks, kissing you again and again. “Gonna need a review after I finish with you.”

“You finishing with me?” You smile. “Big words, Barnes, but no action.”

He knows you challenge him, and you don’t try to hide it. Do you have to beg for his cock for him to finally fuck you? He is edging you on purpose at this point.

You let out a whimper in anticipation when he moves behind you.

“Are you sure you’re fine with no condom?”

“Ihm, I’m not ovulating anyway,” you whisper, trying not to sound too eager. But you are. You want to get dicked down, indeed. And you wanted it for months.

His silence makes you a bit nervous, but the sounds of him dropping to his knees behind you, followed by his hand grabbing his cock and positioning it at your entrance while squeezing your hip with the metal arm.

You love the sensation of the coldness, but you love even more when he leans in to kiss your back before he pushes inside you.

It takes two tries, though, for him to be able to push halfway inside you because you kept pushing his dick out of you instantly. You managed to take him only when he brought his fingers to your clit and rubbed a bit.

You still laughed though because the sounds were too funny and his little frustrated whimpers were hilarious. The amusement turns quickly into more horniness when you feel him stretching you without even being fully inside you. You dreamed and daydreamed about it… fantasized about it, but it still wasn’t even close to how it actually feels. How full it feels. It’s like you cannot even think, your body is weak.

“Fuck,” your voice is cracking. “Deeper.”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers.

“So?” You bring your hand to his ass, trying to show him you really need it deeper. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing? Or are you trying not to come, Mr. Super Soldier?”

“You have quite a mouth on you, I think you need it-”

“You talk way too much. Are you nervous or-” It’s his turn to interrupt you with a thrust. Such a deep thrust your head is spinning. He’s not fully inside you, you realize, but he doesn’t try to, instead, he starts to fuck you, taking your breath away. His fingers leave your clit, grabbing your hips with both hands.

There is no question anymore, just fucking as you wanted.

And it feels like heaven. You try to keep your eyes open just so you look at him over your shoulder, but it’s impossible.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You groan. “No, you did, n-now fuck me harder.”

“Well, well,” he slows down and you almost wanna die. “This is not how you talk to your Sergeant, is it?”

He can’t do this!

“Fuck you!”

“What does my baby want?” His thrusts are too slow and teasing, just like his voice. “Use your words, beg for it.”

You’re not turned off, surprisingly. Not at all, on the contrary, the firm tone he uses, the words… you’re getting hornier, if that is even possible.

“I love your cock, Sergeant, so please give it to me. Fuck me harder and faster. Need you to pull my hair, and choke me, and… be rough.” You would be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. You know he wouldn’t make fun of you for this, so you trust him.

“Only mine.” You take a deep breath relieved when you feel his right hand wrap around your hair. “Do you hear me? Answer me.”

You nod, unable to say anything because he starts to thrust hard and fast, just like he did before he stopped. Your tits are jumping at the impact, and you have to dig your toes into the floor.

“Use your words. If you want my,” he moans. “If you want my cock and my hand wrapped around your neck, you have to use your big girl words. Tell me you’re only mine.”

You can’t hold back your tears this time. You love it so much, you can’t believe you waited so long to have him.

“Only yours.”

“No Steve.”

He lets go of your hair, wrapping his hand around your neck. No pressure, not moving it, he’s just holding it there.

“There’s n-no Steve, Sergeant. Only you. My pussy belongs to you. I o-only want to get filled by you.”

You know he’s smiling without needing to look at him.

“You love your Sergeant’s cock, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to speak while thrusting so hard. He’s a fucking robot, indeed. “No one else could give you this, no matter how much they tried.”

You feel the building in your core. You’re so, so close already, so you try to place your weight on only one hand and bring the other to cover his, and before he can say something, you encourage him to choke you by pressing his fingers on the sides of your neck.

You moan so loudly you surprise even yourself. You sound like a cat.

“Please, sergeant, please, choke me.” You repeat your move and you close your eyes. “Please, daddy, I’m so c-close.”

He pauses for a second, and you don’t know why.

Before you can ask what’s wrong, he doesn’t just start to thrust inside you again, he dicks you down just the way you wanted. It’s as if he fucks the air out of your lungs every time you exhale. You’re crying and screaming at this point, so loud the whole floor must hear you. But you’re not ashamed. You feel so close you can almost taste it.

You barely hear his whimpers, but they’re there and they’re so beautiful.

You get no warning when he decides to squeeze the sides of your neck: gently at first, but then? Perfect. So perfect you come without warning, not being able to even say his name. You just scream some nonsense, your hand dropping from his to the floor so you can ground yourself properly. Your whole body is burning, and burning, and burning, coming alive for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t wait even for a second after you come down from your orgasm. Instead, he gets his dick out of you, grabbing you by your ass and raising you in his arms. Still weak, you barely have the strength to wrap your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck. He’s sweaty but not that hot. His metal arm is making you cool down.

“Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His lips find your forehead and you fight the urge to kiss his neck. You feel so small in his arms… and as if no one can hurt you.

You’re smiling like a fool when your back hits his bed, and so is he. Such a beautiful, blinding smile.

You let him spread your legs before you drag his face down so you can kiss him. You bite his lip hard until he opens his mouth, moaning when you feel him entering you again. This time, you’re relaxed so he thrusts inside you so much easier.

“Gonna make you come again around your daddy’s cock..”

His hands wrap your legs around his ass when he starts to thrust again.

“You’re quite… into it, Sergeant Barnes. So dirty!”

He gently grabs your jaw. “Tongue out.”

You do it, opening your mouth and waiting, and waiting until you finally understand what he’s about to do.

Instead of being grossed out, as you expected, you eagerly swallow the saliva that he lets drip from his mouth, which lands on your tongue.

You bat your eyes as you start to move your hips to meet his thrusts halfway, and that sends him into a frenzy.

“Fucking hell, you don’t want to sleep tonight, do you?” He asks sarcastically, but you don’t have enough air to tease him with a stamina comment. “You want me to make you scream and swallow my spit and come till we have to go to that fucking mission. Till your beloved Steve needs to come to us himself and hear us covered in come but still fucking.” You moan at the idea of your teammates finding out about this. You get awful comments anyway; at least you can get him for real and rub it in their faces. “You would like that, wouldn’t ya? Having all my undivided attention on you, not caring that my best friend is mad…” The thrusts are so deep that your head falls on the pillow instantly. You cannot keep your eyes open for even a second and you’re crying again. “Not caring my pal wanted you so badly he even tried to take you out tonight.”

“Sergeant-”

Thrust after thrust. You grab his forearm as tightly as you can so you can have something to hold onto.

“He thought he could have you, that you’d choose him. Come on, love. Come on, scream my name, let them hear. Let them all hear whose cock you cry for. Who is the one you belong to.” His balls slap against your skin so hard they tickle you. But not even that can distract you from almost reaching your orgasm. His words, his cock, his possessiveness…

“Sergeant, please. No one but you, can I… c-can I touch my clit? I’m so, so close.”

You don’t have to, though, because he is quick enough to bring his flesh hand between your bodies and rub your clit just the way you need it.

“F-fuck, coming,” you manage to warn him before the pleasure hits you. It’s so overwhelming you see white, digging your nails into his forearm.

You don’t know what you call him… daddy, Bucky or sergeant, but it doesn’t matter. You hear his praise, how you’re his good girl, and his words encouraging you to come for him.

When you can focus again, you kiss him with everything you have.

“Need you to come for me, Sergeant Barnes,” you whisper between kisses. “Need you to come inside me, need you to fill me up with your come, sir.”

He hisses loudly, his eyes being more grey than blue.

“Don’t tease me.”

“I mean it,” you make eye contact, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “Not the heat of the moment. I need your come, daddy. I’m on birth-”

He kisses you so hard your teeth end up hitting, but you don’t care. This is everything.

“Gonna come, gonna give you what you want. Gonna make you my come s-slut. Is that what you needed?”

“Yes, yes.” You’re so excited to watch him finish you don’t even realize how much you like being called his come slut until he says it again. “Come on, Sergeant, come for me.”

After you say that, it only takes him two more thrusts to finish, moaning your name.

His eyes close, and you notice how pretty his eyelashes are. And the little moles on his face… his mouth semi-open and his hair in all directions.

You want to witness this every day.

Before you can stop yourself, you lean in to kiss his nose and cheeks, letting your hips move at the same time.

“C-can’t… doesn’t stop,” he manages to groan, and you bring your hand to his nape, caressing his hair as he rides out his orgasm.

When he finally finishes, though, his head falls on top of your breasts, his mouth finding your nipple and playing with it before sucking it fully into his mouth.

“Easy, Bucky,” you moan, but he keeps going, though.

You have to pull his hair, to make him stop.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I need to uh… I’m tired.”

You’re back to your shy self. But his smile still makes you feel so relaxed.

“Got you tired, huh?” He winks, giving your breasts a kiss before pressing his lips against yours. “Fuck, I’ve never been so aroused in my entire life. Won’t even mention how happy I am.”

“Me neither,” you whisper.

“Well, we need to get used to it.”

You laugh so happily that you think your chest will explode. It’s surreal.

“You owe me that dinner after all.”

“A million dinners.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Trying to charm me?”

He pecks you one more time before getting out of you with a whimper.

“I’ve already done it.”

It’s weird to be empty like this again, but seeing your come and wetness on his pubic hair or dripping out of your pussy just to soak the sheets beneath you distracts you. You made a mess.

“We need to clean this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says distractedly as he uses his index finger to push some come back inside you. Jesus! “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You smile. “You’re a whore.”

“Your whore.” He slowly gets out of bed, grabbing his shorts from the floor.

“Want me to go?” You ask all of a sudden, gaining a confused look from him.

“Why would I want that? Unless you do, of course…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix it a little. “But I want you to stay.”

“Saw you dressing.” You bring your knees up just to put your chin on top of them. You feel extra shy.

He smiles. “Just gonna get you some water. I don’t want you dehydrated.”

Bucky knew Steve was in the kitchen as soon as he went down the stairs. He smiles casually, not giving him a second look as he goes straight to the fridge. It’s not like he hasn’t seen him in shorts or shirtless before, and Bucky knows he knew exactly what happened upstairs.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve’s tone is so obvious Bucky almost laughs.

“Not sleepy yet. What about you? You’re alright, punk?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip from his own glass of water; his hands tightly wrapped around the glass.

“Still mad about earlier? You know I’m right.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s all good.”

Bucky sighs dramatically. He loves Steve, he is his brother, but sometimes he is so annoying.

“Well, try to get some sleep. I suggest you wear some earplugs or something, though,” Bucky suggests casually, taking a whole bottle of water. “We wouldn’t want you too sleepy tomorrow. And the night is young.” He even winks at Steve, making him clear his throat.

“Buck…”

“Not a super soldier perk, I know, but you understand, right?” The smirk he suddenly gives Steve is almost sinister. “She chose me after all, and I gotta let her test-drive me. Have a good night!”

Even though he turns around, Bucky doesn’t miss the way Steve’s hold gets so tight that his glass almost breaks.

Bucky doesn’t regret it. He had it coming when he thought you’d choose him.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x agent!reader #bucky barnes x agent!femalereader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #my stories #my fanfics #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x agent! female reader

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steddiehasmywholeheart · 2 months ago

Text

Thinking of Steve with PTSD from the torture in Starcourt. (TW: explicit memories physical torture)

Steve, who wakes up feeling hands punch him. Steve, who sometimes gets his fingers caught on knots in his hair, tugs at them accidentally, and suddenly feels the needle against his neck again. Steve, who can't remember the last time it didn't feel like someone was touching him, even when there's no one there.

During the day, it's not so bad. It whispers over his skin, but sometimes it's like it goes completely silent, drowned by the chaos of the kids or Robin's antics. But nights, or any time he's alone in his house, are hard. His skin burns from being slapped, pinched, injected, and the walls waver and morph into the basement of Starcourt for hours.

Obviously, Robin get's it, she was there too, so the pair try to spend as much time as possible together. But on the night's she's working, or her parents force her in and Steve out, he struggles, avoiding his house like the plague.

It's on one of these nights he meets Eddie. Eddie, who's a little skeptical of him, but who saw his fall from grace, and can see the wild fear in Steve's eyes from a mile away. Eddie, who's always ready to adopt a stray sheep. Eddie, who's babbling brings him back to earth, even when he has no idea what he's on about. He learns Eddie's funny, and loud, and brings life to his sickeningly quiet home in a way no-one else can, and Eddie learns he's not a stuck-up bully of a jock, and it quickly becomes a routine for them to meet whenever Robin's busy. Overtime, Eddie learns Steve struggles because of what he went through in Starcourt, but not much else.

One night, he rocked up to Steve's for a movie night, and he can tell instantly it's a bad day. Steve looks haunted, there's no other word for it. He knows he's going to have to pull out the extra Munson Special to be able to get a real smile out of him tonight.

But it doesn't work. In fact, Steve just seems to be getting worse.

He keeps zoning out, knuckles wise where they grip his jeans, the sofa, anything. And not only is he shaking in general, he's also jolting. And... dodging. Like some invisible figure is hitting him.

Eddie's so worried, he actually stops talking, just watches for a little bit and. Steve doesn't notice. He just keeps breathing too fast. Keeps staring at some ghost in his past. Keeps flinching.

Saying Steve's name isn't enough to get his attention, so slowly, carefully, Eddie reaches for him, placing a hand on his arm, just lightly. But it's enough to make Steve reel back.

They're both apologising in seconds, Steve looking distraught as he assures Eddie it's fine, he's just being stupid, and Eddie saying he should have asked, it's no big deal. But Eddie doesn't miss the sheen in Steve's eyes as he nods, or the tremble to his lips.

He takes a deep breath. Asks, "Steve? what's going on?" Watches as Steve tenses impossibly more for one second. Two. Then crumbles.

"I- I can just f-feel- and-and it hurts, and I don't-"

"Okay, okay, what can I do?"

But Steve just whines, because he doesn't know, he just feels pain everywhere and he just needs to make it stop.

Cue Eddie wracking his brains, and asking where it hurts the worst. Cue Eddie asking if Steve trusts him (and of course he does). Cue Eddie talking Steve through what he's about to do. Cue Eddie gently reaching out to touch Steve's neck, rubbing his thumb over it gently, holding his breath as Steve goes rigid underneath his hand, only to let it out when a significant amount of the tension just bleeds out of him a few moments later.

Slowly, Eddie works his way around all the sore spots, murmuring soft assurances, gaining more confidence as Steve trembles less, breathes easier, and melts under his touch.

They end up with Steve's face buried in Eddie's shoulder, Eddie's arms around him firmly, but not tightly. And Steve doesn't have the words to explain why he needed this, what had caused this. But it doesn't matter. Because Eddie's got him.

From then on, Steve's always got someone to help him remember his body is his. Eddie doesn't hesitate to welcome Steve with a hug, run his hands over Steve's wrists, trail fingers over Steve's neck, or just wrap him up in a blanket and snuggle with him and watch a movie. It doesn't matter that Steve's not allowed to explain. He can piece enough together himself (and after Vecna, he learns anyway). It just matters that Steve is sleeping easier, and laughing more brightly. It just matters that Steve is his.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington has ptsd #ptsd

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amirasainz · 26 days ago

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Do you know the video.of the little Asian girl crying because the school gave her so much homework and the dad comforting her?

Could you do one where it is Lewis and his little daughter. She arrives later to the race week with her Nanny and is crying because of homework. Lewis comforting her while also trying to hold his laughter. Can you also add George and the Mercedes team (maybe they are in a meeting?)

Thank youuuu❤️❤️

Ok, so because I am getting a lot of Lewis daughter requests, I finally gave her a name. Hailey Hamilton (super cute in my opinion)

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

A father's comfort

The early morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Mercedes team headquarters, casting a warm glow on the sleek, modern meeting room. Inside, the air was thick with the tension of strategy and the relentless pursuit of perfection. Lewis, flanked by Toto and George, was deep in conversation about the upcoming race weekend. They discussed tire strategies, car setups, and team dynamics, each voice blending into a symphony of high-pressure motorsport.

Suddenly, the meeting room door swung open with a loud thud, cutting through the serious atmosphere. All heads turned as a small figure burst into the room. It was Hailey, Lewis’s four-year-old daughter, her face streaked with tears, her bright pink backpack bouncing against her back. Her eyes widened when she spotted her father, and without hesitation, she ran straight into his arms.

“Daddy!” she cried, burying her face into his chest, her tiny body trembling with sobs. “I don’t want to do my homework! It’s too hard!”

Lewis’s heart melted as he enveloped her in his strong embrace, a protective barrier against the world’s worries. He glanced at Toto and George, whose expressions mirrored his surprise but quickly transformed into amusement. The rest of the team members looked on with a mix of sympathy and barely contained laughter.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweet pea,” Lewis said softly, holding her close. “What’s all this about homework?” He could feel her small frame shaking with every hiccup, and he fought to keep a straight face, finding it hard not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Hailey pulled back just enough to look up at him, her big brown eyes shimmering with tears. “I have to color two pages and remember a poem, but it’s too many things! I don’t want to!” she whimpered, her tiny hands clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Homework can be tough, can’t it?” Lewis said, trying to soothe her with gentle words. “But I bet you can do it. You’re so smart, just like your daddy.” He glanced over at Toto, who nodded in agreement, a smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor.

“I can help you with the coloring later, Hailey,” Toto added, leaning down to her level, his voice warm and inviting. “And the poem, too. What’s the poem about?”

Hailey sniffled, her little face scrunching up as she tried to remember. “It’s about a butterfly… it flutters and flies,” she mumbled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“That sounds beautiful!” George chimed in, crouching down beside her. “Butterflies are so pretty! Maybe you could draw a butterfly for your coloring pages. We can make it the biggest and best one ever!” He flashed her a bright smile, trying to distract her from her tears.

Hailey looked between her father and the two men, still clutching Lewis tightly. “But I just want to play! I don’t want to do homework!” she cried again, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I know, love,” Lewis said gently, his heart aching for her. “But what if we make a deal? If you finish your homework, we can go for ice cream after the race. How does that sound?” His voice was soothing, and he brushed her hair back from her forehead, trying to comfort her.

“Ice cream?” she repeated, her eyes lighting up slightly through the tears. “With sprinkles?”

“Of course! And chocolate sauce, if you want it,” Lewis promised, laughing softly now, his heart swelling at the sight of his little girl. “But first, we’ve got to tackle that homework, alright?”

“Okay…” she sniffled, her voice softening as she glanced around the room, taking in the chuckles from the team members who were trying unsuccessfully to maintain a professional demeanor. “But it’s still so hard!” she pouted, climbing onto Lewis's lap as he settled back into his chair.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said, holding her close. “We can color one page together first, and then you can practice the poem. I’ll even help you memorize it! How does that sound?”

Hailey wiped her eyes on his shirt, her face lighting up just a bit at the thought of doing it with him. “You’ll help me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, Hailey. I’m always here to help you, no matter what,” he assured her, holding her tighter. As he spoke, she rested her head against his chest, her eyelids growing heavy.

“Daddy?” she murmured sleepily, a hint of a smile appearing as she felt safe in his embrace.

“Yes, love?” he replied softly, gently stroking her back.

“Can we read a story after?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper now, fatigue washing over her.

“Absolutely. We’ll read as many stories as you want,” Lewis promised, smiling at her. “But first, we’ve got to get you to finish that homework, okay?”

Hailey didn’t respond; instead, she let out a small yawn and nuzzled into his chest, her small form relaxing against him. The room fell silent, the earlier tension replaced by the warm, tender moment unfolding between father and daughter.

The sight of Lewis holding his daughter, her little body curling up as she fell asleep, made the team erupt in laughter, the sound echoing off the walls. Even Toto struggled to maintain his composure, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“I think she’s out, Lewis,” Toto chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’d say we’ve officially lost her to the nap,” George added, unable to hide his smile. “What a way to end the meeting!”

Lewis looked down at his daughter, her peaceful face nestled against him, and couldn’t help but laugh himself. “Guess I’m going to have to finish that homework for her,” he said, his voice light with amusement. “But I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.”

As the laughter continued to bounce around the room, Lewis sat quietly with Hailey, knowing that despite the chaos of the race weekend, there was nothing more important than these little moments with his daughter.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #lewis hamilton x daughter!reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #f1 x female reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#dad!lewis hamilton #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 9 months ago

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New dad Astarion who is about to see his newborn child for the first time.

Of course, he expects his child to be the personification of serene beauty and divine grace. Them to have their father’s silken silvern locks, his immaculately chiselled features—the artwork perfected by Tav’s wonderful watercolour eyes…

And then he actually sees the child and—well—everybody assures him that, yes, Astarion, all babies look like that barely a half hour after birth…

He kind of has to take that at face value because he hasn’t seen an awful lot of newborns in his lifetime.

But it would’ve been nice if someone had told him that newborns happen to look like shrivelled potatoes, because he’s really, really trying to not let his bewilderment show.

Astarion swallows.

Tav’s beautiful eyes are watching him, waiting for a reaction—an enthusiastic one, no less.

Maybe Tav will believe that he’s overcome with emotions at seeing his firstborn child?

“Oh my, darling, I’m…speechless,” is all he can choke out, though, being rather proud that it’s at least not a lie.

To his luck, Tav only nods dreamily, her full attention back on the odd little bundle in her arms.

“Isn’t she perfect?”

Yes, perfectly hideous.

Astarion only hums in a way of reply.

That—his daughter, he supposes—is with no doubt one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen, but he has a feeling that his honesty wouldn’t be appreciated after Tav laboured for hours to give birth to this…potato-baby.

“Come, hold her, Astarion,” Tav says, then, bidding him to sit next to her on the bed.

The mattress shifts under Astarion’s weight and he obediently holds his arms out so that Tav can gently place the sleeping child against his chest.

Now that Astarion can take a better look, he can confirm that his daughter’s hair is of an indefinable colour and that her features are neither his nor Tav’s, plain as can be. Surely it won’t stay like that?

He and Tav are so ridiculously beautiful, their child can only be drop-dead gorgeous, right?

Astarion’s stomach drops indeed when, suddenly, something occurs to him.

Oh dear, what if it’s his fault? He has no recollection of his family whatsoever; it’s very much possible that he and his immaculate looks are the exception in his lineage, and that he’s passed on only those mysterious less-than-perfect genes…Tav, as per usual, can’t be the issue!

Astarion is still catastrophizing when the bundle in his arms begins to stir.

All of a sudden, gold-speckled pale green eyes are looking up at him as if to ask what the fuck this weirdo’s problem might be.

“Oh,” the weirdo in question exclaims at once. “Darling, look, she has your eyes!”

Tav, hugging him from behind, rests her chin on his shoulder, so she can watch as Astarion’s finger tenderly strokes their baby’s chubby cheek.

Their daughter also has, as it turns out, ten fingers and toes, a cute little nose and a hungry mouth—everything that’s supposed to be there is there, and it seems to be working fine, too—which is a huge relief.

And aren’t those the tiniest pointy ears Astarion has ever seen? Let alone the unexpectedly strong fingers grasping at his!

Astarion, worries forgotten in a heartbeat, can’t help but smile at the baby in his arms.

She is perfect, after all.

Tav, face hidden in the crook of his neck, begins to tremble against his back.

For a second, Astarion thinks she’s crying but then her laughter fills the chamber. It takes her a good moment to articulate whatever it is she finds so very funny.

“She'll grow out of it, you know?” Tav giggles in between her fits of laughter.

Astarion stiffens. “Of what?”

“The turnip look. That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole time, haven't you?”

“I was leaning more towards potatoes—but yes, I might’ve been a little worried about that,” Astarion admits sheepishly, although a grin is already tugging at his lips.

Regaining her composure, Tav reaches over Astarion’s shoulder, her hand joining his as they get to know their child.

“Give it a couple of days and she will look like your proper little elf—beautiful just like her father.”

A content sigh leaves Astarion’s lips, right before he presses them against Tav’s temple.

“That’s the second best news I’ve heard today, my heart, truly.”

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion x f!tav #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #to the best worst dad #astarion father of the year every year #Inspired by Howl from Howl's Moving Castle or rather Castle in the Air #where his first words upon seeing his newborn son are “My word he's ugly!”—truly an inspirational man!#my grandma said for legal reasons i'm not allowed to call any babies ugly so these are astarion's words not mine #just so we're on the same page #emicha writes

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avis-writeshq · 2 months ago

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pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, roommate au, childhood friends warnings: general criminal minds violence, not beta-read oops a/n: I renounce the MoReid shippers; they’re SIBLINGS !!!! also, apologies for lack of posts !! have been very busy with uni :( wc: 1.06k part 1 | part 2

Spencer was shot. It all happened so quickly– the sound of the gun firing, the grunt that he let out and the apprehension of the UnSub. Too quickly, but such is the fickleness of life. This was one of the rare occasions where the ballistic vest did not do its job, the bullet jamming into his side. Hotch was on the UnSub in seconds, the cuffs on his wrists before anyone could blink.

“Shit, Reid,” Derek gasps out, watching the way blood seeps through his once pristine white shirt, and he presses his hand against the wound. “Shit, Hotch! Hotch! We need a medic!”

***

“It’s going to be okay,” Aaron assures as best he can. His face is grim and Derek is shaking his head in frustration, hands trembling and cold from washing his hands over and over again. “It’s not your fault.”

“We missed him,” Gideon mutters, “he was right there and we missed him.”

“And Spencer got hurt because of it.” Elle’s gaze is set on the hospital’s sign in counter.

Aaron understands their guilt. They caught the UnSub in the end, so nothing was ever in vain, but it doesn’t change the fact that they didn’t anticipate that he was at the end of the hallway waiting for the perfect moment to strike– and Spencer paid the price of their mistakes. The bullet hit him in the side where the vest didn’t cover, the damage reaching his liver and kidneys. Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever seen that much blood before.

“Excuse me–” a voice loud enough to cut through their brooding chimes from the reception desk. “Hi. Hello, I’m here for, um, Doctor Spencer Reid?”

The clerk glances at her for a brief moment before turning back to his computers. “We don’t have a Doctor by that name on staff.”

“Um, no–” a nervous laugh splits the air. “No, he’s– he’s not a doctor here. He’s a patient? I got a call.”

He looks at her up and down before raising an eyebrow, mumbling something. “Is that you?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s me, is he okay? I came as soon as I could.”

“He’s in surgery. He’ll be out in a few. Take a seat over there–” He gestures over to where Aaron and the others are sitting– “and the doctor will call you over.”

“Right. Right, okay, thank you.”

Elle doesn’t try hiding her confusion, looking up at you from her seat with raised brows. “You’re here for Reid?”

You jolt in surprise, the heavy grip you have on your bag loosening in an attempt to calm down. “Hi? Um, yeah. He’s– well, we’re on each other’s emergency contact list.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Aaron says with a tight grimace. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Derek’s jaw unhinges. “You knew?”

“Emergency contact list.” Aaron offers you a glance. “Are you okay?”

“I just–” your voice wobbles, a choked whimper leaving your lips. “I just want him to be okay.”

The team shares your sentiments. It’s not often when there’s an injury as serious as this on the field, but the risk is there. The room is tense with worry, the sound of doctors and nurses rushing around through the halls does nothing to ease their anxieties. You’re already fearing the worst.

What feels like hours is only minutes as a nurse arrives in front of your little group.

“Doctor Spencer Reid?” She confirms, looking sympathetic as ever. “The surgery was a success. The bullet grazed against his liver so he does need to stay for a couple of days for monitoring, but he should make a full recovery.”

“Is he allowed guests?” You blurt out hurriedly, the receipt in your hands crumbled in torn from incessant worrying.

“He’s should be waking up now, but you’re welcome to see him. I’ll take you there.” The nurse offers a gentle smile. “Girlfriend?”

Heat roars against your cheeks and you shake your head adamantly. “No, no, he’s– we’re not– he’s my roommate.”

The nurse hums, a knowing smile on her face. “I see.”

After a few quick goodbyes towards Aaron and the rest of the team, you hurry after the nurse whilst clutching your bag of goods. She opens the door wide, letting you inside before closing it behind you while you pull up a chair.

“I am– I am so mad at you, Spencer Walter Reid,” you whisper, gaze fixed on his resting face and the hair that mats his forehead. You brush a few strands away from his eyes, your lips trembling briefly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“So you’re not that mad?” Spencer croaks out, his voice dry and his head pounding as he manages to lift his eyes towards you.

“Spencer.” Your arms are around his neck in an instant, careful as not to disrupt the wires and tubes that surround him. “I’m going to kill you.”

“That’s counter intuitive.” He laughs quietly, wincing a little at the suddenness before allowing his free arm to wrap loosely around your waist. He finds it uneasy, the way your lips fall into a wobbly frown and how your eyes look red and puffy from crying. He’s only ever seen you look like this once before but that’s nothing compared to this. This time you look like that because of him– a silly little accident has lead to your pretty smile vanishing off your pretty face.

“You suck. I’m telling your mother.” He knows you won’t and he’s grateful that you’ve found it in yourself to make a joke. When you pull away, he immediately misses your warmth, watching as you rummage through your bag before handing him a sealed cup of red jell-o. “It was the last one they had.”

“You’re an angel, really, but I don’t think I’m allowed to eat for a couple hours,” he murmurs, his fingers grasping gingerly at the cup.

With a wordless nod in acknowledgement, you press a thick leather bound book into his hands, your eyes meeting his gaze. “Your favourite.”

He breathes out his thanks, glancing up at you through the dim lights of the hospital room. “Are you going to stay?”

“As long as you want, Walter.”

***

From the other side of the door, Derek glances through the window at you and Spencer before looking back at Hotch. “They’re roommates?”

“Apparently.”

“No, but– they’re just roommates?”

“Unfortunately.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

part 1 | part 2 | you are on part 3!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader angst #matthe gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler angst #matthew gray gubler x reader angst

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crimsonbubble · 3 months ago

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*sigh* so I'm a seonghwa bias but this feels more like hongjoong imo. hyper-independent reader who's also never been in a relationship, but she's not naive or innocent, she knows what sex is, but she's never been with anyone. hongjoong is lowkey expecting her to be a brat, he's prepared, ready to deal with it. But!! Once they start exploring their dynamics in the bedroom, reader actually turns out to be the opposite. She's an obedient sub who lives for the praise from her soft dom hongjoong, and he's all too willing to indulge (definitely not projecting, idk what you're talking about) feel free to ignore or change it up, I just saw you were looking for ideas and wanted to share 🙂‍↕️🥰

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, soft dom joong, a lot of praise, fingering, studio sex, mirror sex (but not really, you’ll get what I mean when you read it), sex tape *not proofread, just pure horny

[this is for the praise kink girlies 🙂↕️] my present to yall while I'm away at the ateez concert 🫶🫶

Hongjoong wasn’t expecting this, but god, does he love it.

He adored how easily you melted into him, how you practically glowed after he praised you, how you did everything he asked of you because you knew that he’d reward you well, and how you looked at him with big, shiny eyes and pawed at him when you wanted his attention.

He gave in easily with you too. He simply couldn’t resist you. Not when you’re spread out on his lap in his studio. Not when you mindlessly follow his words, doing what he asks with no hesitation. Hence why Hongjoong has you in his lap, back to his chest, with his phone propped in front of you.

His camera app is open, the small red light on as it records the scene in front of it. Hongjoong laid kisses along your exposed neck, his hands hooking your legs on either side of his. “Always such a good girl for me,” He rubs two fingers over your clothed cunt, smiling against your skin when you shudder. “Sitting so pretty in front of the camera. Yea, are you my pretty girl?” His fingers circled your clit as he continued laying kisses on you.

You flush at his words, leaning back into him as he touches you. Hongjoong scoots his chair back, letting your whole body come into view. He pushes your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers through your slicked folds. He’s aching in his jeans but he can’t stop. Not when you whine so sweetly for him. Normally he’d tut and remove his hands from you when you don’t use your words, but you spent nearly the last hour sitting on his couch while he worked; you were overdue for a reward.

His fingers slide through your folds easily, your arousal only making it easier. You feel your face going hot as you listen to the wet noises your pussy makes as Hongjoong gently spreads your folds. He rubs two fingers over your hole, gently cooing at you to relax for him. “Easy, sweet thing. I’m right here.” He sinks his fingers slowly, shallowly curling his fingers inside your warm walls. “Joongie…” Your voice trails off, leaning into him even more as he starts pumping his fingers.

He presses more kisses to your neck and shoulder, humming softly. “Joongie’s here, don’t worry. Just sit nice and pretty for me, like always, yeah?” his movements gradually picked up in speed, his fingers filling your cunt over and over. He looks over at his phone, moaning into your neck at how your cunt shines under his studio lights. He curls his fingers into your sweet spot, wrapping his free arm around your waist to keep you in his lap.

He watches through the camera as you writhe in his lap. Your thighs are trembling as he pressed his palm flat against your clit, bumping into it with the heel of his palm. He noticed you bite at your lips trying to muffle your moans. He whispers calmly against the shell of your ear. “C’mon pretty, let me hear you.” The indirect permission to be loud struck a chord in your head as you came undone around his fingers.

Your pussy pulsed against his hand as he rocked you through your orgasm. “My good girl, can take one more for me, right? Make a mess on my fingers again, right baby?” You dumbly nod, smiling as you take in his form in his camera.

“Hm, my good girl. So sweet for me. C’mon then, show me how good you are.”

#bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #bubbly writes <3 #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x female reader #ateez smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong smut

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drabblesandsnippets · 4 months ago

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Confidence, Part 2

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 4

Pairing: Sex Worker!Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: FREE WEEK | [Optional prompts: “A” - Anal Hook, Acarophilia, Age Play] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (3k) Bucky is a full-service sex worker who enjoys helping women become more confident in their sexuality. This picks up right where part 1 ended.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Very brief mention of an abusive ex. Mention of insecurities. Pet names (sweetheart, baby). Consent talk. Dirty talk. Praise. Oral (m receiving). Fingering. Squirting.

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

Bucky’s the first person, other than herself, that’s ever been able to make her come. The intense experience has left her wanting to explore more with him, the need to bring him pleasure suddenly her only focus.

“Can I suck your cock?”

She’s just full of surprises tonight.

The question has Bucky grinding harder against her, the delicious heat and wetness of her seeping through his underwear doing nothing to help him regain control. It’d be so easy to just give in to his carnal desires, to give her exactly what she’s asking for, but he’s a better man than that.

There was a reason she was reluctant to begin with and Bucky needs to make sure she’s not doing this out of some sort of obligation.

With a soft groan, he meets her gaze, one hand underneath her head to keep her attention as they move together. “Is that what you want, baby?” The increased pressure against her sensitive clit is almost too much, but he refuses to let up, watching as she gasps and trembles underneath him. “Or, are you only asking because you think I want you to suck my cock?”

She can’t seem to concentrate, her body and mind overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. She’s breathless, clinging to him, her hips rocking against his, seeking out whatever he’ll give her - but she’s also worried that maybe she said the wrong thing. Maybe it’s not even something he wants. Maybe she overstepped.

Bucky doesn’t want her to get in her head about this - he needs her to say exactly what she’s thinking, without hesitation. Forcing himself to ignore the whine that tears out of her as he reluctantly pulls away, his own body just as desperate for hers, he murmurs, “Easy.” He reaches down to still her hips, his tattooed hand still cradling her head, encouraging her not to look away from him. “I need you to understand something, okay?”

She wants to keep him against her, but she doesn’t fight it, letting him be in control, her hands resting on his waist.

“You don’t owe anyone anything,” he tells her, the slow shake of his head conveying the seriousness of this conversation. “Certainly not me.”

A wave of regret and embarrassment washes over her, her first instinct to wish she never told Bucky about her ex. There’s nothing sexy about admitting your only experiences with giving head is with an ex who pressured you.

The look he gives her isn’t one of pity though. It’s understanding. Compassion. Desire. All the things she’s longed for in a lover.

She can’t let her insecurities win. Not anymore. Especially not while she’s lying naked and wanting underneath a man who already made her forget her own name. She wants more of that. More pleasure. More fun.

Taking a risk, she slides her hand down between them, not stopping until she reaches the waistband of his underwear, her fingertips tracing along the elastic. The grin that appears on his face gives her the last bit of confidence she needs to tell him, “I want this… not because it’s expected, I just… I want to make you feel good… if that’s okay?”

The need to reward her is too strong to deny and Bucky leans up, careful not to move away from her touch, wanting her to make the decision when to take the next step. Instead, his hand coasts from her hip up to her throat to loosely wrap around her neck, the intimate action causing pleasure to wash over both of them.

“I’d love nothing more than to have my cock in your pretty mouth, sweetheart,” he promises, his breath quickening to match hers, the sight of her body arching underneath him causing his cock to ache with need. “I just needed to make sure you want this as much as I do.”

There are a lot of things she wants right now, but none more than this. With her newfound confidence - and the fear that it’ll fade - she asks for permission to touch him, more than ready to keep going.

Bucky’s eager response has her giggling, the sound fading into a moan when she finally makes contact. Just the softest brush of her palm along his covered erection and he’s moaning with her, pressing against her hand, his own fingers twitching around her throat.

She might not know what he likes, but that doesn’t mean she can’t learn. And if his immediate reactions are any indication, she’s already on the right track.

Refusing to allow herself to overthink things, she keeps the same slow pace, stroking the length of him through his underwear, the obvious signs of pleasure spurring her on. There’s something intoxicating about being the sole reason for this beautiful man’s moans and grunts and she needs more.

“I want to suck your cock.”

There’s no hesitation or hint of nerves in her words and it has Bucky cursing, his cock growing even harder for her. He can barely concentrate as it is, the taste of her still on his tongue, her bold touch leaving him breathless, and before he knows it, he’s helping her rid himself of the last bit of clothing, freeing his thick cock from the confines of his underwear.

This time it’s her turn to curse, a laugh bubbling out of her as she blurts out, “Well, now I know where your confidence comes from.” He’s bigger than she anticipated, despite the several times she’s felt him throughout the evening.

Bucky laughs along with her, proudly displaying his body, the mattress dipping as he kneels next to where she lays against the pillows. He’s aware he’s above average, and even though he doesn’t believe he’s nearly as intimidating as she’s making it seem, he’s quick to tell her, “I appreciate the ego stroke.”

Taking advantage of the obvious set up, she reaches out to touch him again, a playful grin lighting up her features as she asks, “Do you appreciate this kind of stroke too?”

If he wasn’t suddenly overwhelmed by the warm grip around his cock, he’d be able to tell her how proud of her he is. For allowing herself to be in control, for asking for what she wants, for having fun and letting herself be completely in the moment with him. But the only thing that comes out of him is a soft grunt mixed with laughter, “Fuck yes.”

She doesn’t need any more convincing than that and starts a slow rhythm, using the pooling pre-cum at the tip to get him slick. She’s mesmerized by the way his breathing gets faster, the slight tensing of his thighs each time she works her hand over the head of his cock, the look on his face giving her just as much pleasure as his touch is.

With his left hand on the headboard to keep himself steady, his eyes follow the path his other hand takes, just in awe of her body as she is of his. The slight bump of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the softness of her stomach. And god, her thighs. He wants them wrapped around his head again, to feel her squeezing him as she comes.

Bucky almost asks for it. The image of him burying his face between her thick thighs while she sucks his cock has him thrusting against her hand. She’d probably let him too, but this isn’t about him. She was clear about what she wanted and he’s not going to push for anything else right now.

Not that it’s hard for him to give in anyway, the hungry look in her eyes encouraging him to move closer, his cock soon within reach of her mouth. And then every thought leaves him. The need to taste her again, the desire to suggest a different position for her comfort, all of it gets shoved to the back of his mind.

The slow swirl of her wet tongue quickly makes his breath catch and he loses focus, his hand stilling on her thigh, his fingers gripping her soft skin. “Fuck,” he exhales.

She’s already moaning, the salty taste making her crave more of him as her hand starts to stroke her saliva along his cock. She can’t get over how hard he is for her, barely having done anything yet, and the realization that everything she does seems to be turning him on has her comparing this to previous experiences.

There won’t be any second-guessing herself though, and as she pulls back to look up at him, her hand keeps moving, not wanting to stop the pleasure she’s giving him. She can tell it’s hard for him to concentrate, but she still asks the question, trying not to blush. “Will you tell me if I do something wrong?”

For a second, all Bucky can do is blink, his breath shallow from the way she’s touching him, the occasional brush of her thumb over the tip of his cock making him stutter. “Not… not gonna happen.”

She briefly bites her lip, his reactions causing her body to pulse and she resists the urge to touch herself, wanting all of her attention to be on him right now. With a soft giggle, she asks, “Because there’s no such thing as a bad blow job?”

Bucky grins and shakes his head. “No, sweetheart.” His free hand moves off the headboard to tenderly cup her face and his thumb slides over her bottom lip, the bit of saliva there making her even more gorgeous. “There are definitely bad blow jobs - if anyone involved isn’t enjoying themselves, no one’s gonna have a good experience.”

Her words aren’t needed, but she still feels compelled to say them. “I’m enjoying myself.”

“I know.” The grin on his face grows at the same moment his lips part and he exhales sharply again, the tip of her tongue teasing over the pad of his thumb almost making him forget what he wants to say. “Just… keep doing whatever feels good, okay? ‘Cause everything you do feels fucking amazing to me.”

She doesn’t need more instructions than that, and after letting his thumb slip from between her lips, she guides his cock back into her mouth, sliding the head along her tongue. She follows her instincts, finding an easy rhythm, listening to the way his breathing changes with each pass of her hand working in tandem with her mouth.

The incredible sounds she’s already eliciting from him ignite the fire inside of her, and she shifts, using the pillow underneath her shoulder for support. Her elbow digs into the mattress to give her more leverage and she starts moving faster, paying attention to the way her tongue flicking against the sensitive glands has him gripping the back of her head.

Careful not to take charge of the pace, Bucky runs his fingers through her hair and allows himself to get lost in the moment, his eyes never straying from her. The stretch of her lips around him, the occasional string of saliva that keeps him connected to her when she pulls back to take a breath, the perfect way she keeps stroking his cock.

“God,” he breathes, “you feel so good, baby.”

She hums against him and he nearly loses it, his hips tensing, wanting to thrust into her mouth. He holds himself back, taking the opportunity to start touching her again, his hand moving from her thigh to her large breasts, the sight of her tits bouncing with each bob of her head driving him crazy.

The moment his fingers gently pinch one of her nipples, she gasps and pulls back, driven by lust to do everything she can to make him lose his mind. She slides her hand up, stroking just the tip of his cock, and tilts her head, slowly dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft, all the way down to his balls.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky curses immediately, his cock twitching, oozing more pre-cum, and he’s overcome with the urge to praise her, the words tumbling out of his mouth between soft grunts. “Look at you… Such a good girl… Doing so good for me…”

It’s too much, each utterance making her body pulse with arousal and soon her hips shift, spreading her thighs wide, her pussy just begging to be touched. She doesn’t even give him a chance to react though before she’s taking his cock deep in her mouth again, the head brushing the back of her throat.

The gag she makes barely even registers as her free hand moves between her legs, seeking out her swollen clit for a bit of relief. She’s so turned on and the only thing that would make this better is if Bucky finally stops holding back. She wants nothing more than for him to fuck her mouth.

And all it takes is just a bit of encouragement from her, the hand on his cock sliding between his thighs to grab his ass, pulling him towards her. The words spill out of him unfiltered, his hand on her head gripping her hair as he tentatively thrusts into her mouth, “Is this what you need, baby? For me to fuck that pretty mouth while you play with your pussy?”

It’s enough to almost make her come and she shifts, opening her mouth wider, welcoming his thrusts as he starts to move a bit faster, both his hands tangling in her hair for leverage. It’s never been like this for her and she can’t get enough, doing her best to relax her throat as she takes him deeper each time, hungry to take all of him.

Bucky doesn’t want to overwhelm her, but he follows her lead, holding her head steady as makes her take more of him, his body tensing at the tight heat of her throat. “Shit, baby, oh my god.” He’s having a hard time breathing, let alone talking, but he wants to keep praising her, loving the way his dirty talk brings her pleasure. “You’re so good… taking my cock so well… You wanna come like this? With my cock down your throat, sweetheart?”

Her fingers speed up, pressing hard against her clit, the familiar tingle building deep inside of her, and she can only imagine how she looks. Tears wetting her lashes, her saliva dripping out of her mouth, her hand gripping his ass as she moans and whines around his cock.

“That’s it,” he growls, “don’t fucking stop. Want you to come for me... Show me how much you love sucking my cock.”

That’s all it takes, and her hips lift off the bed at the exact moment that Bucky pulls out of her mouth, his grip on her hair forcing her head back, letting him get to witness her fall apart for him. The cry of pleasure that pours out of her has him nearly coming with her and he reaches down to cover her fingers with his, keeping the pressure up as her legs clamp around both their hands.

“Oh, good girl.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“You did so good for me.”

She’s so overwhelmed, intense waves of pleasure rushing over her, that all she can do is grind her hips, chasing the euphoria, even after it starts to become too much, her body quickly growing sensitive.

Bucky already seems to know her body well though, how to keep her right where he needs her to prolong the feelings, and his fingers soon seek out her entrance, her walls still fluttering with aftershocks from her orgasm.

“Oh god,” she gasps, reaching out to hold his arm as her trembling thighs spread for him, already desperate for more. “Bucky… I… it’s…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to tell him, but he immediately soothes her, settling next to her while he teases her with just the tips of his fingers.

“Just relax for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her softly, trying to find a balance between helping her catch her breath while also wanting to make her come again. “I’ve got you.”

Her mind is still foggy, her thoughts hazy with the lingering effects of coming so hard, all because she was so turned on from giving him head. But, she can’t stop thinking that his pleasure was cut short for hers, and now she’s come twice. “What about you?”

“What about me, baby?” Bucky’s grinning, knowing exactly what she’s asking, but he wants her to tell him - to at least try. She’s come so far in such a short time, he doesn’t want her to regress.

She doesn’t want to either, and with a soft exhale of a laugh, she tries to explain how she feels selfish, whispering, “I… you didn’t… fuck.” It’s so hard to string a coherent sentence together, his fingers still stroking along her wetness, and another soft laugh leaves her as her hold on his bicep tightens.

Bucky takes pity on her, brushing his nose along her cheek, his soft beard tickling her jaw. “You made me feel so good.” Her breath catches and he keeps going, her slick pussy pulsing each time he teases her entrance. “But, right now, all I can think about is feeling you come around my fingers again. Is that okay?”

For just a split second, she almost tells him no. But, that’s her anxiety talking - her insecurities telling her that she’s already had enough pleasure and they should be focusing on him. But, if there’s anything he’s proved to her tonight, it’s that making his partner feel good is just as satisfying as being on the receiving end.

As soon as she’s telling him yes, he’s thanking her, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine and he pulls back just enough to watch her. The way her thighs tense and shake, her soft gasps and shuddering exhales, the fluttering of her eyelashes. He can’t get enough of her and the urge to fuck her senseless drives him to suddenly fill her with his fingers.

He wastes no time before he’s curling them, pressing hard against her front wall, massaging her g-spot, reducing her to nothing but breathless whines and cries of “oh my god” again. Her head thrown back against the pillow, her eyes shut tight, each stroke coaxing more wetness out of her.

Bucky’s on a mission, remembering how she told him she squirts sometimes. She’s never done it with anyone else before, and he wants to be the first person to have the pleasure of witnessing it. To be the first person to make it happen.

The only thing she can do is go along for the ride, her left hand spreading her pussy for him, giving him the perfect opportunity to grind his palm against her clit, his soft words of praise filling her head. She can already feel the pressure building, his fingers never letting up, fucking her perfectly as she cries out of his name.

She thought she’d be nervous or hesitant about this part, but it’s impossible. He’s just as turned on as she is, enjoying himself right along with her, and she wants to give him everything. Especially when he growls, “Give me what I want. Squirt all over my fucking hand, baby. Let me feel it.”

Whatever he wants, she’ll give him.

With a loud gasp of a moan, her body lets go, her wetness soaking his palm, the wet, obscene noises pushing her over the edge. Her breath gets caught in her throat and her back arches, her thighs threatening to close but Bucky quickly sits up, using his free hand to hold her open, fucking her through her orgasm, making her squirt over and over.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

“Holy shit, look at that.”

“Never seen anything so beautiful.”

“So fucking perfect, baby.”

He doesn’t stop until he’s sure she can’t take anymore - the twitching of her thighs, the tensing of her stomach, the soft whimpers telling him exactly when to pull back, immediately gathering her in his arms. HIs fingers don’t leave her until his lips are on hers, swallowing the whine she makes from the loss, kissing her passionately as she shudders underneath him.

Bucky’s so proud of her, and he can’t wait to show her everything else she’s capable of tonight.

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

Prev Part | Next Part (????)

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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themultifanshipper · 26 days ago

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hi babes

can i request some angsty/fluffy fic with oscar and pregnant reader, where she's feeling a little down and overwhelmed with how changed is her body (like with her size or stretch marks, idk) and oscar recomforts her, saying that she's beautiful and she's doing so well..

thankyou, i love your works sm<33

Warnings: light angst, Oscar being a lil clumsy but sweet, fluff that quickly goes into smutty territory :3 (no actual smut scene though)

Also quick psa, it's very common to get depression during and after pregnancy. It's a very real disease that millions of women battle with. If you feel like you have symptoms of any description, don't keep them to yourself, talk to someone you trust about it and seek help, stay safe out there my dudes <3

This weekend had been rough for you.

Apart from all the obvious pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, which had been really kicking your ass for the past few weeks, it was the other things that were starting to get you down.

Your body had changed, and it felt alien to you. Like it wasn't even your own anymore.

You'd spent hours staring at the stretch marks that covered your stomach, wondering if they would ever fade.

The weight you'd put on made your thighs look massive, and you could already see the signs of your breasts almost doubling in size.

You felt huge, to put it simply.

And your self confidence was in the gutter.

You'd been ignoring Oscar's worried calls and messages while he was away at the Grand Prix, choosing to turn your phone off altogether and wallow in self deprecation.

Oscar was supposed to be getting a jet back on monday night, but he was so worried about you he bought a last minute flight right after the race, to get home to you as fast as he could.

He opened the door to your shared apartment, keys jingling as his hand trembled in his hold.

“Sweetheart?” He called out, once he was finally inside.

There was no answer.

He noticed a faint light coming from the corridor, and he followed it only to realise you had left a lamp on in the bedroom and fallen asleep with the latest book you were reading still in your hand.

He melted at the sight, putting the book on the nightstand (after putting a bookmark in it, he's not a savage) and turned the lamp off before stripping and getting into bed with you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you like that, his breathing synchronised with yours until he fell asleep, exhausted from his long day of racing and travelling.

What he didn't know, was that you had been pretending to sleep. You weren't ready to talk to him about what was troubling you because you knew it was stupid and he probably wouldn't take you seriously…

The next morning Oscar woke with a start. The other side of the bed was empty which was odd, you never usually woke up this early and you always cuddled up to him in the morning, putting your perpetually cold feet against his skin to warm them up.

He listened for any activity in the apartment, the coffee machine, the tv… but not a single noise could be heard.

He slid out of bed and went looking for you.

It didn't take long to find you, curled up on the sofa, blanketless and shivering in your sleep.

Oscar whined quietly to himself, what on earth was up with you?

He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and rocked you awake.

“Baby it's 5 in the morning what are you doing on the couch? Come back to bed with me”

You just curled up tighter and hid your face from him. “No it's okay Osc I'm fine here”

He put an arm around you, trying to get you to sit up.

“You're obviously not babe, you're shaking with the cold, let's go cuddle up in bed under the-”

“Oscar I said I'm fine just leave me here!” You protested, wriggling out of his grasp.

“Don't be ridiculous you're freezing out here come on”

“Fuck off! I said I'm fine!” you snapped, and Oscar would have believed you if it weren’t for the way you're voice cracked and a tear rolled down your cheek.

He was so shocked at your outburst he froze, not quite knowing what to say as he noticed how pale you looked and how red rimmed your eyes were.

“Baby…” he put a comforting hand on your hip but you flinched away “Babe what-”

“It's nothing” you said, slightly softer, wiping your tears with the obviously already very damp sleeves of your pyjamas. “It's just the morning sickness and stuff has been really bad and I didn't want to wake you”

Oscar was entirely unconvinced but he didn't push.

“Alright, come to bed with me then, we need to get you warmed up”

You nodded, indeed feeling very cold at the moment and you let him steer you back to your bedroom.

Once you were back in bed with him, he snuggled up behind you and pulled you across the distance you had tried to put between the two of you.

“I love you” he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin.

You didn't reply, and your body was so tense it was a miracle you hadn't pulled a muscle.

After a few seconds a quiet sob wracked your frame and Oscar tightened his hold on you.

“Baby please, tell me what's wrong.” Oscar pleaded.

You sniffled and tried to get your breathing straightened out before answering.

“I just… I don't like how my body’s just- what if it doesn't- I don't want-” your breaths were coming in short as you started getting choked up again.

“Baby slow down. Deep breaths now”

You took a deep breath in.

“I’m scared”

Oscar blinked at the back of your head.

“Of what?”

You sighed.

“That my body is ruined, and that it will never be how it was before… and that you won't like it anymore”

Now that you were saying it out loud, it sounded stupid even to you, but the fear and insecurity was clawing at your insides harder than ever.

“Baby your body is changing for the better, trust me. You're making a baby inside you, that's bound to make some changes. But I love you even more because of them. I love that inside your belly there's a little human that is the result of how much I fucking love you. And I'm going to be with you every step of the way.”

You heaved in a breath “I just- I didn't know it would be this hard…”

He kissed your cheek and stroked your belly under the blanket. “I’m so sorry if I've done anything to make you think I wouldn't love your body no matter what. Your body isn't ruined, baby. You have no idea how much it drives me insane to think of you waddling around our apartment, belly full with my kid”

You turned around to face him with fresh tears in your eyes.

“I want you.” He smiled softly “I want you so fucking much you have no idea.” He kissed your forehead sweetly before pulling you into his arms, adding “I’ll always want you baby, nothing will ever change that”.

You breathed in his comforting scent as you melted into his arms.

“And if you don't believe me…”

He pressed closer to you and you felt him, half hard against your hip.

“… let me prove it to you”

One of his hands trailed down to where your ass filled out your shorts a bit more than it used to.

“This body…”

He kissed your neck, then lowered himself down to your where your nipples were visible through the material of your thin sleep shirt.

“... is a masterpiece…”

He kissed lower and lower until he got to the waistband of your shorts

“ and it's all. Fucking. Mine.”

He growled as he dipped his hand under the material and felt the wetness already gathering.

“Jesus fuck” he groaned “you're so perfect, so good for me”

You raised your hips so he could slide them off you and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of you in front of him, full hips and thick thighs on display for him.

Not to mention your growing belly peeking out from under your shirt.

His eyes went from brown to black at an alarming pace as he slowly lowered himself and looked up at you with a devilish smirk.

“You ready?” he purred, voice deepened by arousal.

You were on the verge of crying again, feeling so overwhelmed by the attention Oscar was giving you, but you swallowed the feeling down in favour of sliding a hand through his hair.

You tightened your grip, pulling at the roots slightly and he shivered, his eyes closing in pleasure. He let out the tiniest whimper when you did it again.

When his eyes met yours again after a few moments of him composing himself, you smiled down at him.

“Get to work”

#my thots #oscar thots #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #f1 #formula 1 #ask #request

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flowerandblood · 4 months ago

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The Lost Haven (8/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, smut, the angst, broad description of suicide attempt (blood), forbidden relationship, half-manipulation, imprisonment, mention of murder, kind of toxic behaviour, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She knew that she was paying for her naivety and stupidity, for not listening to Daemon and her premonition. She wasn't even able to fully blame her uncle for what had happened, because even though he was the one who had imprisoned her, she had thrown herself into his arms herself.

She let him thrust into her body, she let him fill herself with his warm seed, thinking that perhaps there was a way for them, no matter how twisty and difficult.

Lying in his room on his bed, pretending she didn't see his pleading, desperate looks in her direction, she had plenty of time to think about herself and her life.

She realised that everything she was doing, her naivety, her desire to help him stemmed from the belief that if it was possible to fix him, to set him on the right path, to free him from this sullen, dark fate, there was also hope for her.

The hope that one day there would come a moment in her life when she would feel peace.

Meanwhile, instead of peace, something else filled her.

Emptiness.

She felt nothing when it turned out that he had taken her phone, when he locked his room door when he left, when he spoke to her or asked her something.

She pretended that all this wasn't happening, that she was actually on the beach, gazing out at the endless sea, listening to its sound.

She couldn't bear the sight of him, the smell of him, his touch, and everything she had dreamed of and held dear became, in her eyes, foreign and hated: hearing him, she felt as if a stranger, with whom she wanted nothing to do, was speaking to her.

She did not want his explanations.

His apology.

She felt nothing, experienced nothing, needed nothing.

She didn't even feel the need to go home: even if she were free again, it wouldn't change anything.

Her uncle had broken something in her and they both knew it.

Her heart trembled in sympathy and grief only at the sight of Helaena: his sister had been patient, warm and affectionate caretaker towards her. They did not, however, usually exchange even a word.

There was no need: she knew that Helaena was a hostage and prisoner of her family as much as she was, and that there was nothing she could do to help her.

"I'm worried about Aemond." She said one time, handing her a towel in the bathroom.

She could have covered herself with a curtain in the bath, but Helaena needed to be in the room with her.

They wanted to be sure she wouldn't hurt herself.

She looked at her and put on the T-shirt she got from her that served as her pyjamas.

She didn't answer.

She didn't know what.

Helaena looked at her fingers, playing with them in a nervous gesture exactly as her brothers had done, all probably inheriting it from their mother.

"I caught him browsing your Instagram account one evening, couple of months ago. He was sitting in the living room with a drink and thought he was alone. He was about to do something with our grandfather. He didn't hear me come downstairs and freaked out. He turned off his app as soon as he saw me."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling a squeeze in her heart, discomfort, pain and heat ripple through her body at the thought that, contrary to what she thought, he hadn't forgotten her at all.

"I tried to help him and he took advantage of me. Forgive me, but I am no longer able to sympathise with him." She whispered, picking up her things from the floor. His sister swallowed hard, looking up at her.

"Since that night. Since our father died. Since he saw you. For a moment, something changed in him. He seemed content. Calmer than usual. He told me he was thinking of going to university part-time. I didn't know you were the one helping him with that." She muttered, stepping closer to her, looking somewhere to the side, as if distracted.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want it." She said in a trembling voice, wondering what she wanted from her, how could she think that after what he had done to her she would care about his decisions and what he chose to do.

He had mocked her, objectified her, humiliated her.

He left her with nothing, stripped her of all virtues and values.

"Our grandfather knows when to act like part of the family and when to act like a ruler. He does this to each of us. He knows our weaknesses. Our unfulfilled desires, our flaws, our complexes. He knows who among us is the most miserable, the most vulnerable. The most weak." She said, avoiding eye contact with her, looking around the room, tense.

She pressed her clothes to her chest, feeling the squeeze in her throat at her words, the sympathy and pain that showed she was no different from him.

They both were weak.

They always were, even then, during that summer.

They were sad, hopeless and small children, finding each other in the end, comforting one another with their presence.

"I can't help him anymore. He's made his decision and I'm here. I don't think there's anything more we can say to each other."

That night she couldn't sleep: he hadn't been back for a long time wherever he was, and the thought that perhaps someone had shot him or taken revenge on him didn't fill her with peace.

Despite everything she felt, she didn't want him to die.

She shuddered when she heard footsteps in the corridor and then the sound of a key turning in the lock. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep when he came inside, closing the door behind him.

She heard him pull off his jacket and shoes, trying not to make any noise, and then he came towards her, leaning over her with a quiet sigh. She swallowed hard when he gently covered her with the duvet, when his wide, warm hand combed through her hair as if she were a small child.

She was furious with herself that she felt tears under her eyelids as soon as he pulled away and lay down on the mattress, when she heard him say hello to Vhagar, who licked his fingers.

She was furious that some part of her still craved his closeness, that his touch made her feel safe, just as it had then, that summer.

The only joy in her days filled with shame and grief was Vhagar.

Her uncle's dog was gigantic and had big brown eyes. Vhagar was as distrustful as he was and did not approach her at first, but watched her closely as she lay on the floor, and when she held out her hand to her, she sniffed the air, wanting to smell her with her large, black, wet nose.

Like him, Vhagar required patience and understanding, respecting her barriers.

Eventually, however, she allowed herself to be touched, sealing her acceptance with a long, sticky lick from which her fingers were all moist. Being with her and touching her soft, warm fur was a form of therapy for her: she couldn't find comfort in his arms even though she craved it, and she knew he was dying to touch her.

However, if she broke down and let him, she would lose the remnants of her self-respect and her own dignity.

Although she tried to reject these thoughts and feelings that filled her, what she had repressed during the day came back to her in her dream: she saw her uncle lying in a pool of blood, his face cut, his eyes gouged out in revenge for what he had done to one of the men who had not paid him on time.

The scream she let out seemed inhuman to her and she didn't even know she had really let it out. She pulled herself up on the bed, terrified by the darkness and the fact that she did not recognise the room she was in when she heard something move on the floor.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" She heard his voice and looked at him with big eyes, whooping with her own tears, sobbing loudly as she felt relieved despite everything he had done to her.

He was alive.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He asked, looking at her with a sincere worry from which she felt pain in her heart, thinking in disbelief that she wanted to throw herself into his arms and cuddle up to him.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered soothingly, rising slowly, approaching her uncertainly. She lifted her shoulders up, simultaneously wanting and not wanting this.

She felt a pleasant shiver as he sat down beside her, his hand gently touching her shoulder.

She swallowed hard when he dared to put his other hand on her head and sank his face into her neck – she felt like bursting into sobs feeling his familiar scent, his familiar warmth, her body relaxing involuntarily into his embrace against her will.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –" He assured her, only to sink his face into the top of her head a moment later, stroking her shuddering body soothingly with his hands.

You've already done it, she thought with pain.

The person before whom she was most vulnerable, whom she allowed to touch her naked body, whom she allowed to be deep inside her, as intimate as possible.

She thought, feeling her body convulsing as she tried to calm her breathing, that she had nothing left.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out, surprising herself with these words that came straight from her heart.

She heard him draw in the air loudly, terrified, rocking her in his embrace as if she were a small child.

"– no – don’t say that – it won’t take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He whispered as if he thought that was what she meant.

That she just wanted to go home.

"– you broke my heart –" She said, wanting him to understand that her going back anywhere wouldn't change anything, because what he had done to her no place could fix.

She didn't really care now where she was or what was happening to her.

She felt regret towards herself that when she heard him burst out crying she involuntarily felt sympathy for him.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, his warm, full lips starting to place wet, lingering, desperate kisses on her face, wanting to somehow soften her words and what she had said, but she felt worse and worse.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

Lie.

"– I don't believe you –"

She heard him wail quietly, hugging her as tightly as if he wanted to break her bones, melt into one with her so she could never escape him again.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, and she clenched her eyes shut, herself feeling the hot tears one by one begin to run down her face.

They were just empty words that couldn't change anything.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She whined into his neck, finally saying what she had been feeling all this time, the regret, the disappointment, the terror and the emptiness she felt deep inside her flowed out of her mouth.

She was sure he was going to start denying it, saying he would make it up to her, but instead she heard his mournful cry, his kisses on her face, neck and shoulders loud, sticky, ravenous, his breath heavy and raspy, making her feel a pleasant tickle between her thighs in spite of herself.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out and she snuggled into him harder, wanting to hurt and comfort him at the same time, to reject and accept him deep inside her.

Some part of her wanted to believe him again.

She gasped, surprised to feel her nipples grow hard, to feel her warm cunt pulsate around nothing as his broad hand slid slowly under her t-shirt, trailing down her back while his swollen lips did not pull away from her bare skin.

"– I love you –" He assured her, the strokes of his hand, his wet, hot lips increasingly ambiguous and intimate, the tips of his fingers trailing down her spine, making a wonderful shiver run through her again and again, from which she finally moaned.

"– you hurt me –" She mumbled out regretfully through her tears, inhaling his scent, hating him for how good she felt with him, hating him for how much she wanted him, hating him for needing him so badly and him taking advantage of her.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, pressing her tighter to him, her lips in some subconscious, involuntary reflex brushing against his neck, tasting his sweat and his perfume.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He exhaled, their fingers clenching tighter on their bodies, proving where this was going, how much they both needed comfort, reassurance, a moment of pleasure and warmth, what only they could give each other.

She shuddered and froze when she felt his hand slide down her back to her bare buttocks, digging his fingers into them, feeling the cold sweat on her neck.

She pushed him away, panting heavily, and quickly moved away, pressing her back against the cold wall. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling her whole body quiver with desire, her cunt pulsing greedily, dripping all over from her wetness.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out, shaking her head, horrified at the effect he had on her, how easily he manipulated her.

She was a stupid idiot, exactly as Daemon had said.

Her uncle shook his head, moving closer to her, in some pathetic, helpless gesture grabbing her calves, kissing her knees as if he wanted to fall to her feet.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She asked with anger, thinking that surely that was the case, that this was just part of their plan.

She couldn't let them down, she couldn't make a fool of herself once again.

Her uncle looked at her with eyes red from tears, his face all swollen, his lips parted in a heavy, raspy breaths.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered and she shook her head, thinking she couldn't believe him.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out, herself no longer knowing what she was feeling or thinking.

She turned her face to the wall and hugged its cold structure as if she wanted to melt into it, the space between her thighs hot and wet, throbbing from the tension that filled her entire lower abdomen.

She pursed her lips into a thin line when she felt him clamp his hand on her waist, his face pressed against her back.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined pleadingly, falling into hysteria, bursting out in such a loud, pitiful, almost childish cry that she began to weep herself, not knowing what to do, where to go to escape the chaos of feelings and thoughts that were filling her head.

Although she wanted to, she couldn't push him away after those words and she let him fall asleep cuddled into her back.

The next day, lying down, staring at the wall, waiting for him to wake up, she looked between her and the bed and saw something shiny on the floor. She slipped her hand into the gap and when she caught it, she thought with a heavy beating heart that it was the blade to a small bookbinding knife.

She swallowed loudly as she grasped it in her fingers and slowly raised her hand, slipping it into her towel that lay on the chair just above her head.

He had told her that day that her mother would try to reach an agreement with them if she could see her.

She thought with disgust and shame that her mother and Daemon would have to sacrifice what was rightfully theirs because she had been stupid and naive, because she had disobeyed them, because she had shown thoughtlessness.

She decided that she would make it right.

That she would do something that would destroy Otto's entire plan and allow Daemon to keep what he wanted.

She thought that perhaps her step-father would understand that she had done this for him.

That this was her apology.

"I'd like to take a bath."

True to her assumption, her uncle was careful and removed the key from the bathroom lock, informing her that she had ten minutes, however, to her relief, he did not check her towel.

When he closed the door she quickly turned the water on, not wanting him to get suspicious, and slid the blade out of the cloth, turning it in her fingers.

This was her escape route.

Her final word.

She stepped into the tub, sinking into the pleasantly warm, crystal clear water and leaned her back against the backrest, breathing loudly, feeling fear, uncertainty and doubt.

She didn't want this, but there was no other choice.

Even if she went home, she would not escape the prison that was her heart.

She was unable to stop loving him.

This thought made her sink the blade into the skin of her wrist.

She hissed, feeling with tears in her eyes how unpleasant, rough and stinging this feeling was, uncomfortable, exactly as her feelings towards her uncle.

She smiled under her breath thinking that he would be the one to find her.

She wondered if she would break his heart in this way, just as he had broken hers.

When she did the same with her other wrist she dropped the blade on the tiles and leaned her head back, lying in peaceful silence, hearing only the hum of water around her.

She closed her eyes, imagining that she was by the sea again, with him, listening as he told her about how old and valuable the coin they had found was.

Tears ran down her cheeks at the thought that in a moment she would join that boy.

The man standing outside the door had killed him long ago.

And then she fell asleep, and though she heard someone's voice, felt someone touch her, felt someone calling her name, she could not open her eyes, feeling calm and light.

Free.

She hissed, feeling an unpleasant burning sensation in her wrists and twisted on the bed, opening her eyelids with difficulty. She felt the sun shining on her face, the familiar smell of disinfectants all around her, the quiet beeping of the machines controlling her heart rate just above her head.

She looked to the side and saw the figure of Daemon sitting in a chair, looking at her exactly as he had then, when her uncle had brought her home from Heavenly Beach.

She felt her body begin to quiver in shame and fear: even though she tried, she couldn't find the words to express what she was feeling, and although she had never called him that, at that moment something snapped inside her.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Dad – I believed him – I was only supposed to bring him the books, nothing more – I was trying to fix it –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, struggling to catch air between the successive sentences that left her mouth.

Something in her step-father's gaze changed – he swallowed hard and twisted in his seat, clenching his hands into fists.

It seemed to her that some part of him sympathised with her.

"– I know –"

Those words, though short and dispassionate, meant more to her than he could have imagined.

Although he was furious with her, and he had every right to be, he understood why she did what she did and that she believed it would help his cause.

"– you did it for me – didn't you? –" He asked, looking at her wrists.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath, feeling that her cheeks and eyelids were all swollen with tears of sadness, grief and pain.

He lowered his gaze and sighed heavily, turning his head to the side, looking towards the window.

"– don't ever do it again – your mother almost died of despair –" He said, and she nodded again, letting his large hand close over her fingers.

"– you are a naive, stupid child – but mine – you will be under my full control from now on – you will not go anywhere without me, your mother or my bodyguards – do you understand? –" He asked and she nodded, feeling shame.

He was right.

She was a naive, stupid child who someone had to watch over to make sure she didn't mess up again.

Despite her initial horror that everyone would hate her, she was welcomed home with relief and joy: she knew that to some extent this was influenced by what she had done, but at least it made everyone understand that she regretted what had happened.

"– that son of a bitch – I swear I'll kill him with my own hands –" Jace said to her, embracing her tenderly as if she were a teddy bear.

She felt pain and discomfort at the thought that some part of her wanted to ask him not to hurt her uncle.

She wondered how much of this was due to how he was manipulating her and how much was due to how she really felt about him.

She knew that Daemon, Jace and their men had declared war on Otto: every day someone died in a shootout, and she prayed she wouldn't hear his name overhearing the conversations of her father's bodyguards.

"That boy with one eye sold Larys Strong a bullet in the head. His grandfather's partner! They say he just walked into his office and shot him. He must have pissed him off pretty good." He said, and she swallowed hard, feeling her heart stand up in her throat with terror.

She reached into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out the note he'd left her at the hospital and read its contents for the hundredth time.

I will always watch over you.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that his confession was literal.

That he had killed him for her.

Do you know who did this?

I can take care of it.

For your comfort.

Those were his words.

I can take care of it for your comfort.

She hid her face in her hands at the thought of him sinking even deeper into darkness for her, thinking that in this way he would atone for what he had done.

Daemon agreed to let her return to the University on the condition that one of his bodyguards would wait in the car the entire time she was in the building, just to make sure she didn't leave or run away.

She agreed to this out of desperation, feeling that she was descending into madness sitting at home, constantly dreaming about him.

About someone bringing them news that he was dead.

Along with the end of the semester, the entry exams for all those who wanted to get into university were also approaching.

She tried not to think about whether he was studying, whether he was going to come and try, recognising that it was just his momentary whim, an attempt to make her believe that he was capable of change.

And then she'd see his silhouette in her memory, bent over a thick tome, read through her textbooks.

She hated herself for sympathising with him.

She hated herself for wanting him to succeed.

Since then neither of them had written or spoken to each other.

Even so, the day she knew the exams were to take place had her walking around in a state of complete shock and panic all day.

"Are you alright? I'm worried about you. You look terrified." Robb said, snapping her out of her reverie.

They had been together for a few months during the past year, as they had become very close on a excavations where they had been the professor's assistants together.

His ironic sense of humour, the glint in his eye and his cheeky smile made her feel a pleasant warmth in her stomach, and when he kissed her one evening she thought there was hope for her.

That she could live a normal life.

She spent her first time with him because she trusted him and knew he was experienced. He was tender and patient with her, excited by her clearly lack of skill in this aspect, by the fact that he could lead her by the hand, show her what desire and fulfilment were.

She was grateful to him for making the loss of her virginity only a little painful for her, and beyond that she felt only pleasure.

Nevertheless, she despaired that the orgasms she experienced with him could not compare to what she felt when she herself sank her hand into her leaking womanhood, imagining that it was her uncle's fingers that was greedily invading her slit.

"– go on – after all, that's what you want – that's why you came to me, isn't it? – for your uncle to take care of you – am I wrong? –"

She had to snuggle her face into the pillow so that her siblings wouldn't hear her moan of delight and relief, while wonderful waves of warmth and pleasure shook her body, causing her to fall into a peaceful, pleasant sleep, still holding her hand between her thighs.

However, it was enough for her to wake up in the morning, and remorse, sadness and disappointment in herself made her unable to breathe or eat.

And then she saw pictures of Robb with the women he had embraced at the club, and while part of her felt pain, part of her also felt relief.

When she broke up with him, he tried to explain to her that nothing had happened, that he had forgotten himself under the influence of alcohol but that he had never, never cheated on her because he had not kissed or had sex with any of them.

She then thought sadly that she could tell him exactly the same thing, however she felt that they were both cheating on each other in some way, just not physically.

She decided that it would be better if they remained friends, and although it was hard for him to bear at first, he seemed to eventually get used to the thought.

Neither of them resented each other.

She lowered her gaze at the thought, embarrassed, not knowing what to answer him, not being able to confess the truth after all.

She was, however, tired of lying.

"My friend was supposed to take his entry exams today. But I don't know if he will. He hurt me and I'm afraid to go there." She said, looking across the corridor to the part in the building where the big auditorium was located.

"Do you want me to go with you?" He suggested, and for some unknown reason she felt grateful to him for the offer.

She nodded, and he smiled at her in a way that she remembered vividly from the moments when she thought they were happy.

When they got there, she saw that the door to the room was open, probably because of how stuffy it was in there.

"Can you see him?" Robb whispered as she leaned out, she could, however, only see the first three rows of pews and did not recognise him among any of the people.

"No. But I can't see much." She muttered.

"Well, tough. We'll wait." He sighed, leaning back against the windowsill with his arms folded.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He asked after a moment with hesitation in his voice.

"No." She mumbled, looking at her fingers in shame. Robb raised his eyebrows, stroking his chin as if something in her words comforted him.

"Oh. I see." He said, and she swallowed hard, looking away, feeling that even though she had told the truth she felt like she had lied.

The people who had finished writing the exam started to leave one by one, making her lose faith with each passing minute that he had done it at all, thinking in the back of her mind that he was sitting with his grandfather and brother right now for sure, discussing how to destroy her step-father.

He didn't have time to play University now, she thought sadly, and froze when she saw him in the doorway.

His healthy eye grew wide at the sight of her as if he had seen a ghost and he stopped in mid-motion, pale, glancing at her, then at Robb.

"Is that him?" He asked curiously, extending his hand to him. "Robb, it's a pleasure. I hope you become a student soon too."

She swallowed hard seeing that his uncle's face expressed tension and coldness, a sign that something bad was about to happen.

His gaze full of impatience fell on her again while Robb's hand continued to hang in the air, showing her that if she didn't intervene, he would speak up and she wouldn't like that.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked in a trembling voice, wanting him to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

Robb blinked, bewildered, looking at her then at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Didn't you hear what she said?" Her uncle snarled in his direction in a way she knew was a warning.

He knew who he was, she realised suddenly with horror.

Then, when Helaena caught him looking at her Instagram account, it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

He followed her social media.

That's why he knew where he should come even though she hadn't given him her university address.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." Said Robb in a tone that betrayed that he had lost patience and she had to stand between them to keep her uncle from pushing against him, his jaw clenched in rage.

"That's enough." She said in a shaky voice.

"Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?" She asked softly with a note of mockery in her voice, from which he swallowed loudly and looked away, embarrassed, trying to control himself.

Robb hesitated, but nodded finally and left them alone, glancing at them intently over his shoulder.

"It was a mistake." She said, shaking her head, herself wanting to leave, recognising that she didn't know why she was doing it, why she cared.

"– no – no, wait –" He muttered, grabbing her arm, careful, however, not to cause her pain. His hand wrapped around her waist in a way from which she swallowed hard, his forehead pressed against her temple.

"– are you two together again? –" He asked in a trembling voice, and she involuntarily burst out laughing, ignoring the stares of the other students who were just passing them by.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She hissed, looking at him with fury, his gaze hot and pleading, full of feelings she didn't want to see.

"– do you love him? –"

She shook her head, trying to push him away, not wanting to hear it, having no intention of explaining herself to him.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, trying to pull away from him, but he closed his hands on her back, hugging his nose to her cheek like a small child seeking refuge, his eyes closed as he spoke his next words.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered.

She swallowed hard, feeling a powerful, cold shiver run down her spine, her heart starting to pound like mad in her chest making her struggle to take another breath.

He had killed for her.

He had killed a man.

God, was it possible to wash away such a sin?

To carry such a burden.

She shook her head, her brow arching in pain at the thought that she didn't want to hear it.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –" He gasped tenderly, enclosing her jaw in his hands, placing again and again warm, soft kisses on her cheek as if she were something he longed to cherish, that he adored, that he loved.

A part of her wanted to ask him if he planned to kill himself too, but those cruel words didn't leave her mouth.

When he hugged her she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to calm down in the tender embrace of his arms, feeling his soft, full lips on her cheek, neck and shoulders, his hands combing through her hair tender, close, familiar, beloved.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered and felt him freeze for a moment. He swallowed hard, placing a lingering, warm kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –" He said softly, stroking her back comfortingly as if he were a husband who had just assured his wife that they would have a child in the future.

How absurd his words were simultaneously horrified, embarrassed and endeared her.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, clasping her hands on his back, for some reason seeking help in his embrace.

He was the only person who understood what she was going through.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back, his face sinking into her temple, his warm breath enveloping her neck.

She shuddered when she heard her phone ring – they moved away from each other, and when she pulled it out of her backpack it turned out to be Daemon's bodyguard.

"Your class is over, where are you? Is something wrong?"

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She mumbled out, scared that the man would start looking for her.

"– it's okay – I'll wait where I always do –" He said and hung up while she breathed a sigh of relief.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said indifferently, tucking the phone into her backpack. She felt him wanting to embrace her again, but she pushed him away, shaking her head and avoided him, unable to look at his face.

We just have to try again.

She burst out crying at the thought that some sick part of her wanted this.

"– you said he's not your boyfriend –" She heard Robb's voice behind her, standing at the entrance to the courtyard, looking at her with pain and disbelief.

She swallowed hard at the thought that he was watching them from a distance.

"– I –"

"– I thought we are friends, that we are honest with each other –" He said quickly, combing his hair with his hand in a gesture of impatience, his words making a cold, unpleasant shiver of shame shudder through her body.

He had caught her in the act, and she was like a small, weeping child who was afraid of the consequences.

"– he is not my boyfriend –"

"– are you serious? – you said he hurt you, and you almost let him fuck you in the middle of the corridor – where is your self-respect? –" He hissed and after a moment fell silent, seeing the look in her eyes, the expression on her face, hearing his own words, knowing that his last sentence was a step too far.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry I said that – I didn't –" He muttered, running his hand over his mouth.

He wanted to touch her shoulder, but she moved away from him, shaking her head, not caring that the others were looking at them from the side.

"– is there anything else you want to say? –" She asked, having the feeling that something inside her had broken once and for all, shattered into pieces like a glass vase.

Robb opened his mouth, his cheeks turning scarlet with horror and shame.

She turned tensely, heading for the exit, out of the corner of her eye noticing her uncle's face staring back at her, pale and shocked.

He heard it.

She shook her head letting him know not to follow her and ran towards the car park, thinking about how she wanted to sink to the ground and die.

As she closed the car door behind her, whooping with tears in panic, the man leaned over to look at her face, horrified.

"Are you all right?" He muttered.

"– I didn't pass the fucking exam – can we go now? –" She said with such anger and fury that the bodyguard merely nodded and started the engine, backing the car out onto the road.

She covered her face with her hands, choking and panting, trying to calm down, thinking she deserved it.

Why had she gone there?

Why did she have to see if he had come?

What did it matter?

We just had to try again.

Jesus fucking Christ.

They were both completely mad.

Maybe they had inherited it in their genes, she thought regretfully.

It wasn't until she was home at dinner, feeling Daemon's anxious gaze on her, that she thought uneasily that she had escaped the drowning ship, but had left her uncle and ex-boyfriend far too close. She felt her knee begin to pop up in a nervous reflex under the table at the thought that he might have done something to him.

Out of revenge, out of jealousy, out of whimsy.

I killed him for you.

She thought she would write to him to make sure he was okay.

But he didn't write back.

Unable to stand it, she put a second, new card in her phone, one of the hundreds her brother kept in his drawer to avoid bugging him, and called her uncle, demanding an explanation.

"What did you do to him?" She asked horrified, walking around her room as if in a trance.

"I see you have a new phone number and I have no idea what you're asking."

"Robb, Aemond. He's not writing me back."

She heard him hum on the other end, as if he was pleased with her words and the fact that whatever he had done had forced her to contact him.

"We only talked. His handsome face with brown eyes is unharmed." He said calmly, making her breathe a sigh of relief, still feeling the tension though.

"What were you two talking about?"

"It was our men's business."

"AEMOND."

"That I won't let anyone treat you like that. He doesn't know shit and meddles in matters that aren't his." He said coldly. "I gave him a warning."

For a moment there was a tension-filled silence between them, from which her heart pounded like mad.

She thought it was all some kind of pure madness, that it wasn't really happening.

"– did you threaten him? –"

She heard his loud sigh on the other side and a bark.

Vhagar.

"– I told him to treat you with respect and not to talk to other people about us if he didn't want unpleasantness – no violence, pure persuasion –"

"– manipulation – as in my case –"

"– that is not true –" He protested angrily.

"– LIAR –" She hissed and hung up, throwing her phone on the bed in a gesture full of rage.

She fell back on the bedding, sighing loudly and groaned when she saw that her display had lit up and he had sent her a new message.

She unlocked her phone reluctantly, thinking she had angered him with her words, but saw with surprise that he had sent her a picture of Vhagar.

She felt regret and a sting in her heart at the thought that involuntarily it made her smile.

What he was doing to her was so wrong, so very wrong.

So why did she feel warmth in her heart?

After a while, her phone vibrated again.

She didn't know why she laughed warmly only to burst out crying again a moment later, not understanding why he was the only one who could make her smile, the only one who could make her feel that wonderful warmth in her lower abdomen, the only one who could calm her down.

Why he was the only one she loved.

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rubyarerosies · 3 months ago

Text

got a youth of may inspired angst kinda rant with gojo if anyone wants to know hehe

(tw. cheating? (not on mc) death, injuries, kinda toxic idk)

Gojo’s a Lieutenant General in military and you’re his favourite nurse, obvious reason, you’re his girlfriend of 3 years. You both met during your stay in medical school and his 3 week training for medical assistance - dates and hard fucking were what sprouted this love. Your the first nurse he calls when he’s injured, he always comes to your office during your lunch break if he has time, and he always kisses you and his promise ring when he leaves for a mission domestically or internationally.

But things started to change when your branch was sent to a city where martial law was declared, and Gojo had to stay because a Lieutenant General was already placed for duty there. You both did your best in keeping contact, but with the amount of shifts you were put on due to military violence held you back in the hallways of the hospital. Misunderstandings happen as Gojo worries over your long absences and you worry during your shifts at the hospital on whether or not if you should talk to him - would it end up being an argument? You stop texting and he’s at his wits end. That’s until your cousin, also a nurse back at home, started becoming your emissary because of your turmoil.

It hurts me but Gojo starts to become attached to your cousin, starting to enjoy her company more than what she initially came to tell him about you. But Gojo wouldn’t pursue her if he was still with you - you’re still precious to him, you’re still someone he loves, so he breaks it off over the phone.

“Is it her?” - “…Yeah,”

“Why her?” - “She’s here.”

You don’t hear from her or him after that, you figure she feels out of place to talk to you now that she’s somewhat got feelings for her cousins ex boyfriend. And Satoru, you figure he’s wallowing in a pit of shame, although it must not as deep as you expect since he wasn’t scared to say it over the phone, or keep it secret for a bit at home (you don’t think you want to call that city home anymore)

“Shoko told me there’s not much they hide over there,” Suguru’s voice is soft, you don’t want his pity - but you rethink it when his next words come out cautiously it sends an uncomfortable tremor in you.

“…She also said he doesn’t wear his ring anymore,”

Blah Blah Blah, time goes on. You try to work on yourself but with such little time on your hands, there’s only so much you can do for yourself. But Suguru helps the best he can, he’s a good friend - almost too good that your chest doesn’t tremble with sadness when he starts to talk about Satoru and your cousins status (he only does it when you ask, and he makes sure to double check if you’re really sure he can talk about - ‘she’s ranked up, she sits in your old office now’ ‘Shoko growled them off the other day for spilling disinfectant over the infirmary floor, she called them ugly hounds’)

There’s a big city commotion that happens, and martial law calls for back up. Overnight, reinforcements are sent over.

Gojo happens to stumble into your infirmary with a dislocated shoulder, his head held down low as he sits on the bed, his mind screams about the nostalgia of it all. You walk in and grimace a bit, then heave out a sigh. It’s silent on your part, you only give him sharp answers when he asks how you’ve been and if you’ve been doing ok. Satoru feels his stomach backflip when he feels your touch across his shoulder, collarbone and chest, your hands feel like fire but so soft simultaneously. He also feels something cold, and it makes him shiver, he looks down - your promise ring.

“Don’t feel so special, I wasn’t going to let this dust up in my drawer, it’s a nice ring.”

When you leave, you bump into your cousin who looks frantic. It’s awkward until she asks where he is, you point to the closed curtain and she leaves with a bitter taste in her throat (she was there on sight ready to help him, but he had already asked for your assistance out of instinct)

Gojo resumes his duties, but this time, he stays here. Suguru says it’s because the other Lieutenant generals wife just had their first born so he went back home.

After the first city commotion, more happens, the people are restless. You understand them, it’s not nice law abiding a more corrupt ‘government.’ Gojo too, he doesn’t like how the higher ups order so much violence against the public, but to save face for his position he stays quiet. You don’t. You join the people and Satoru watches.

It’s now routine to always bump into him. Your cousin now works at your hospital, so you’re bound to see him when he comes to visit and pick her up if he can. He tries to befriend you, but you don’t want that.

Satoru sees you forget your ID one day when entering the hospital in casual clothes, the soldiers at the door must be new because they start to become aggressive. You’re shoved on the floor and before you could be slapped, Gojo steps in and takes it on his shoulder - his injured shoulder.

And that’s how you end up hold an ice bag on the swelling area of his shoulder. Satoru uses his thumb to smoothe out your eyebrows, saying how you’re scary with a glare. And when you finally look up, you see his dog tag is paired with his promise ring, when you ask about it he says, “Didn’t have the heart to throw it in my draw as well,”

This is where things start to get confusing with our lovebirds? Gojo is being confusing; he likes you cousin, he really does, but he thinks he still loves you, and Y/N won’t open up to him about the possibility of dating him again because of how poisonous it is to think about how they ended before.

Satoru decides for the both of you when he comes back for a checkup and lets it slip that he misses you, and when you look up, he kisses you, his hand cradling your hand with the promise ring and pulling it against his chest to connect it with his.

However, you don’t take kindly to his actions and slap him after. He whispers he loves you when you leave. After leaving himself, he goes over to his girlfriend’s apartment and apologises.

“Why?” - “She’s here now, and that’s all I needed”

You do your best at pushing him away, but he’s persistent. It starts to annoy you that you beg your superior to change your shifts, but no matter what, he’s always there like shadow.

“Y/N,” he says sternly, but you don’t falter in your haste to seem against the idea, “7PM, tonight,”

“I can’t leave until 9,” - “7PM, I’ll carry you if I have to,”

You get carried out at 7PM but the date is cut short after a curfew was set at 8PM, Satoru says he didn’t know about this. The 2 dates you go to after the first is not out of your will, but you would say the ones after aren’t.

It’s after a month when Satoru says he loves you again, and this time to your face. You think it’s because of how damn serious everything is starting to crumble, he came back to the infirmary a week ago with a very nasty concussion and gashes and there was a sliver of panic in him that he wouldn’t make it without telling you how much you meant to him. So he confessed to you the week after.

“I know you don’t have the answer right now, come back to me tomorrow night and I’ll wait for you, always,”

You don’t give him an answer, mind too muddled after a change of events these past couple of months, but you give him your ring as a promise that you will come back if not tomorrow, and he gives his to you as a reminder that you always have a part of his heart. You leave his room after that, and when you do, you notice it’s past curfew. The rural areas of the city are quite scary to walk by, especially the trees.

Long story short, you see a kid in the woods afraid of making their way home because of how brutal they’ve come to realise the military men were, you do your best in walking them out but get shut down when a soldier drives past and sees your white uniform in within the trees. He’s yelling, calling you a traitor for conspiring with the public with such suspicion. You tell the kid to run when you stand up and he does, your hands are lifted and you turn around when the soldier spots the kid disappear into the trees.

He shoots you in the chest, you think it pierced your lung, and you drop to the ground. He leaves you in that woods but you’re just thankful he didn’t pursue that precious child into the woods. Your chest heaves with heartbreak each shallow breath you take - Satoru, your eyelids feel heavy the more you take a breath. You love him, despite it all, you love Satoru - always have, always did.

Your eyes reach the sky, it’s flimmering with birght stars. You think if you concentrate hard enough, it’ll show you the cosmos that are in Satoru’s eyes. You take the ring out of your pocket and do you best with one hand to slide it on your ring finger.

“I do, Satoru, I do.”

You do love him, and you think broadly if he had asked for your hand you would’ve replied the same as well.

It’s 4 years after you disappeared - only Satoru thinks that, but others beg to differ. After the martial law was overrun in that city, violence was eradicated and Satoru decided to no longer pursue his fight as a military man - that time of his life showed him that being a part of the military wasn’t what his morals were - plus it wasn’t what you wanted too.

After you hadn’t showed the night after, he clutched your ring tightly to manifest that you would come back to him someday - but he didn’t mean 3 years later.

“It’s - It’s her, they found her,” Suguru whispers, and Satoru stops. Time stops for him, everything stops.

Satoru is brave, the bravest soldier his superior would preach about, but he isn’t brave enough to see what was left of you. So he clutches the ring that was found with you, his wails come violently like his soul is being ripped from him. Your cousin is the only one to comfort him, she’s no longer bitter about everything because if that didn’t happen she wouldn’t have met her now husband and son. So she comforts him as a thank you.

After a month, Satoru visits your grave. He weeps at your photo, his body curled on the grass; he’ll never see you again, he’ll never remind you how his love bleeds for you every time, and he’ll never know what you wanted to say that night.

He loved you for three years, still loved you for another and will forever love you until he gets to greet you again.

His dog tag dangles with both your rings.

“I’ll keep these clean for you for the next time I see you, my love, wait for me okay?”

#this was inspired by one edit and here we are #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst

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fraugwinska · 7 months ago

Note

Could you do a backstory to Hard Day? Like, how Al decided to give up control, and the first time it happened 🥺🙏

Ummm... well, I may have gotten myself a bit lost in this one :D Idk, It's gotten quite out of hand, 2,5 k words... but...um yeah :D Praying you like it :> Attention - we cook with Chili, not salt today! (MDNI)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The hardest Day

„That's so unrealistic! I mean, in what world would a lion eat bugs instead of the fucking fat juicy PIG?!“

„It's a kids movie, asshole, shut up!“

The gang was sprawled out in front of the TV, blankets and popcorn everywhere. Charlie got her hands on a rare copy of 'The Lion King', and invited everyone to a 'nice, unproblematic, quiet' movie night. She didn't account for Angel's constant commentary, Husk's annoyed retorts to him or Niffty's gleeful giggling at the most unfitting scenes. Vaggie, frustrated by them, started adding to the chaos, sending scolding remarks in intervals at either of them, while Charlie tried to mediate in between songs – which she always sang along with.

You, however, were highly entertained – even though you didn't catch anything from the movie, just watching them was amusing enough. The only one missing was Alastor, who had 'business to attend' and was gone since breakfast ended.

He would've hated it anyway, you knew he had no interest in movies, let alone modern ones, and group activities like these were often straining on his patience. Although getting in the hotel last, you were the one who grew the closest to him. Why? You couldn't say definitively. Maybe it was because you never took his veiled jabs by heart. Maybe because you didn't treat him the way the others wanted you to – with care, with ignorance, with suspicion; but instead with respect, an open mind and without judgment. Maybe it was because you could challenge him – discussions about books you both read could last hours, with points given to either side equally – no winner, no loser, both richer.

You liked Alastor. Really liked him. You also had a silly, little crush on him, for a while now, but you kept that to yourself, nothing going further than a few flirtatious moments 'in good fun', calling each other 'doe' and 'buck' with a laugh. A joke between friends. Friendship, you decided, was enough for you, if it was for him.

The entrance doors slammed suddenly, making you all jump in your seats. Alastor stood at the door, looking... different. Stressed? You cocked a brow when you saw his eye twitch, while he sauntered over to the group.

„Al, do you want to join us? We're watching a movie!“, Charlie said absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to the scene of 'Can you feel the love tonight'.

Alastor gave the TV set a judgmental smile and waved his hand. „Tempting, but it has been a rather hard day, I'll just take a drink and retreat to my room, dear.“ He left the group and went to the bar, your pair of eyes the only one following him. Something was NOT right. His smile was tight, his eyes wider than usual, his movements almost jagged instead of fluid. Niffty had jumped to the bar too, insisting on helping Alastor by retrieving a glass for his whiskey from one the higher shelves. In her eagerness to climb and get it, she didn't watch her steps careful enough, resulting in a few delicate wine glasses sliding from the shelfves and breaking into a hundred tiny pieces. Alastor's reaction was as unexpected as it was worrying – he always had a soft spot for Niffty, laughing over her antics and chaotic energy, often encouraging her even to produce more mayhem. This time, however, he started to scold the maid, who blinked at him with a big, guilty eye and trembling lips.

„Such indignation, really Niffty. Clean the shards at once, and try not to remain to be such a clumsy clot.“, he almost hissed, grabbing the bottle and a simple crystal glass before striding away hastily. Your eyes followed his figure until he turned the corner to the staircase, then you got up and comforted the little demon, helping her sweeping up the glass pieces while she sniffeled tears away.

You let your gaze swipe over the group, completely ignorant about what happened with Niffty, and Alastor. Ignorant of the blatantly obvious bad mood of the deer demon.

Turning to Charlie, you whispered to her that you had a headache and would be going to bed, to which she just nodded. No one acknowledged your leave, all eyes on the screen and still bickering noisily. A bunch of friends, you are, you thought annoyed with a shaking head.

Three flights of stairs later, you reached Alastor's room. You pressed your ear to the door, and heard dull bangs, like something was thrown, and a muffled voice. You knocked, and the room instantly stilled.

„Alastor, it's me.“, you said loudly, brows furrowed. „Are you okay?“

A few seconds of silence. „I'm just fine and dandy my dear.“

You put one hand on the door. He normally would open it, to speak with you directly, face uncomfortably close to face, just the way he liked it. But it stayed close.

„You didn't look fine.“, you stated. You were ever so stubborn.

„Well, I am fine. Now shoo, darling, good night.“

You stood in front of the wooden divider, contemplating. You could just go. Leave him be, wait until tomorrow. See if he would talk to you then. But then, there was your gut. And it told you Alastor wasn't well. And that just didn't sit right with you.

„Alastor. Please, let me in.“

No response, just hint of the prickling feeling of static electricity on your skin.

„I know something is bothering you, and I'm worried.“

No response. You breathe in and out.

„I'm not going anywhere until you open the...“

The door flew open, a hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you into the room, violently. You stumbled and fell against a bookshelf, catching the fall with your hands to keep you upright. You heard a slam and a click – door closed, door locked. The static was everywhere now, flushing in waves over your body. You turned around -

Alastor was pacing like a wounded animal, he seemed fluffed up, as if every hair on his body had decided to stand up. His scleras were dark pits, blackest black, and in it his irises burned angrily in crimson flames, now focusing solely on you. The prey.

„So you came to test my patience too, dear?“, he snarled, his voice so distorted it ached in your ears. „It's not enough that that waste of cables destroyed two of my radio towers. Not enough that dozens of my most profitable souls have been rendered useless by an angelic bomb. Not enough that I not only had to put the disgraceful flat screened wretch back in his place, but also his vulgar boy toy and their brazen, attention-seeking brat.“

He grew in size as he ranted, you watched him reaching the ceiling, antlers scraping along the walls. „I manage my weakening territories, manage these imbeciles who think they can play overlords, I manage this sad excuse of a hotel, I manage the princess's unattainable ideas, and now, I also need to manage you, too, of all people? What a disappointm...“

„Stop.“

You held up a hand. Alastor growled, fluffing up even more, limbs cracking and static popping. „How dare y...“

„Stop.“, you said again. Your tone was calm, void of anger, or fear, neutral and steady. He stared at you, and you held his gaze. „Breathe, Alastor.“

You saw him fighting with himself. He fought against his instinct to oppose, to command, to put you into your place, to rip you apart. His elongated claws scraped over the floor, ripping deep ridges in the wood.

„Breathe.“, you repeated, firmer this time.

Slowly, gradually, Alastor shrunk. Breathed. Crumbled. Until he was back to his usual size and form, only with an exhausted expression.

You studied him – you've never seen him like that. He never allowed anyone to see him as something other than 'the radio demon': Powerful, unshakeable, quick on his feet and always one step ahead. How exhausting it must be. To always have the control also meant to always carry responsibility, to always fear impending failure.

Your heart whispered to you, and you followed it's advice. It could be the most stupid thing you could do, but you decided to do it anyway.

„Come here, Alastor.“

He looked at you, unsure, suspicious. You sounded commanding, but not harsh. Inviting. Like a hand, reached out to someone trapped. For a moment, you almost thought you ruined everything – his eyes left yours, they fell to the ground as he shifted on his feet.

But then – steps. Coming closer. Stopping right in front of you. And suddenly..

His head on your shoulder. His breath on your neck. His voice in your ear.

„Sometimes I'm so sick of it all. Sick of maneuvering, sick of ruling, governing, planning...“

You touched his neck, he let you, caressing the soft skin, heated from his outburst, trembling slightly at the contact. It was intimate, baring this vulnerable part to you. You heart broke for him.

He pulled himself away from you, searching for your eyes. Finding them again, he took your hand, bringing it up to his face, guiding your fingers over his lips. He just said one word.

„Please.“

So much was said with this please. You heard every message. Giving up control, just for a bit, just with something he didn't care enough about to insist on ruling, could be a small bit of freedom. Letting himself be guided instead of leading.

“Kneel down, Alastor.”

His ears pressed flat against his head, but he did as he was told. He couldn't look you in the eyes. For once, you were the one towering over him. You took his face in your hands, pulling it so he looked up to you, seeing your warm smile before your lips met his.

His breath hitched, stuck somewhere in his throat.

You slid one hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, the other caressing his cheek as you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Slowly, the rigidity melted away, he started to shift, lips no longer stiff but soft and molding against your own.

He tried to stand up, but you pushed him down, gently, definitively.

“Trust me to guide you, buck.”

He breathed, one, two, three times, eyes closed, grin tight.

“Yes, doe.”

Your own excitement took a back seat. You were filled with pure energy at the thought of crossing the line with him, having Alastor in a way you only dreamed about, convinced your relationship would never come this far. But. But this was not about you, for now. Maybe, another time. If another time ever came.

You lowered yourself on him, straddling him, so you were still 'taller', and rejoined your lips. You took his hands and set them on your hips, let them rest there while you buried yours in his hair, tugging lightly to bend his head back. His initial resistance lessened, and he gave in, exposing his throat, gray skin peeking out of his high collar. You let your mouth travel to his jawline, down to the small patch of delicate, thin skin, right next to his jugular. You felt him tense, felt his rising urge to protect himself from your potential strike. You let out a soft hum as you started to lick it, sucking gently, just a bit, just to make him shiver at the sensation. And how he did.

A moan, low and sweet like the strumming of a cello, escaped him, his hands crushing your hips by the force of his grip. It hurt, but you decided to ignore it. Little steps.

“Can you take more, good boy?”

His eyes snapped open, burning furiously. You met them with calmness, with a soft matter-of-fact-ness. Not smug, not mocking. A question. Proceed or Stop?

Alastor swallowed hot saliva. You could see he was getting overwhelmed, overstimulated, and yet, he had such a longing in his eyes, such desperation.

“Yes.”

One simple word. One spark, setting your body on fire. You tried to force your trembling fingers to steady, lifting yourself slightly off him to open his trousers. With every button, his breaths grew heavier, his grip on your legs grew tighter, claws already digging in your skin and drawing blood.

“Careful, buck. I'll need these in a moment.”, you said, placing both hands on his chest, pushing him flat on his back on the ground. He let you go, arms falling useless next to him.

You leaned forward, thanking any deity that would listen you decided to wear a skirt today, and placed a hand on his growing bulge. He hissed at the touch, cracking the floor as his fingers clawed into the wood of the floor instead your fleshy legs.

Freed from it's cage, Alastor's dick was already dripping with beads of precum, a sight to behold. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the warmth and bloodflow, it twitched in your hand. You stroke him, eliciting the most sinful noises from the demon under you.

You took a deep breath. One more, one question more, to make sure that he wanted it.

“Look at me, Alastor.”

He sat up on his elbows, looking more helpless than you've ever imagined he could. Even his smile wavered, threatening to break. You were looking for any signs of hesitation, disgust, resistance, regret. You only found desire. A want, a need, almost pleading eyes.

Your free hand pushed your panty away, enough to expose your lips, and you lowered yourself onto him, his length slowly entering you. He was big, you were tight. A bittersweet combination. Sparks flew before your eyes as he stretched you, but you were hypnotized by his eyes.

They were blown wide, returned to black, but the irises now flickering into dials, turning, left to right as he groaned. You moved, guiding your hips up and down, feeling yourself molding to his shape in the most delectable way, and getting drunk off the look on his face.

You increased the pace on which you pushed yourself on him, adding a little tilt of your hips to take him even deeper. His voice was reduced to a static-y mess, hums and groans and moans bleeding into each other. You placed both of your hands on his chest for more support, inevitably pinning him down. His hands flew to yours, threatening to push them off him, but instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, panting heavily.

It didn't take long for him to feel the pressure, unbearable and urgent, his release approaching at godspeed.

“Doe, I can't...”

Panic in his tone. He tried to put his hands on your waist to pull you off. You understood immediately – an upbringing in conservative times, decades of living by the rules of a gentleman, he was resisting against the thought of cumming inside you. You pushed his hands away.

“Yes, you can.”, you stated, smiling at him, a hint of wickedness in your eyes. “And you will.”

Your skilled movements and dedicated demeanor sent him over the edge immediately. Protests were futile as he came in you forcefully, you felt his cock pumping his seed deep into you, hot and thick as you rocked him through his orgasm. Your own high wasn't worth chasing, too far away to matter. You didn't even think about it – nothing could feel better than this.

Alastor ran his hands over his forehead, sweeping away beads of sweat as his breath calmed down.

His hand shot out to grab you, and, still impaled by him, he pulled you into his chest, invading your mouth with his tongue to kiss you possessively. As if to transfer the command, the control he had given up, back to him. Taking it from you.

For a moment you were scared. The positions had reset to their default. Would that mean he'd push you off? Say goodnight and never talk about this night again? Returning to the Status Quo. Friends, the end.

Alastor pulled your chin up to look at you. His thumb ran over your cheek, tenderly and full of care. His eyes answered every question in your mind. You weren't scared anymore.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie morningstar #fraugwinskawrites #quick fic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin smut

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slut4thebroken · 28 days ago

Text

The Bet

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Stepdad!Jackson Rippner x Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary | Your stepdad makes a bet with Tommy.

Warnings | Smut, dubcon, sharing, kissing, praise, innocence kink, technically incest, barely legal lmao, I need psychological help.

Words | 1.1 k

Notes | This was originally a request that I got back in March lol but I’m using it for this cause I can🫶 Also I need to def edit this again so I’m sorry if it’s bad lmao

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 8: sharing

“Mr. Shelby and I made a bet… Unfortunately, I lost.”

“Oh… What was the bet?” You asked timidly.

“You.” Tommy said with the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. Your eyes widened in shock and you waited for them to explain. “But it seems your daddy is a little protective of you…”

“Cause I know you, Tommy. I’m not leaving her alone with you.” Jackson scoffed.

“Regardless…” He continued, not bothering with a reply. “That means I get to fuck you while dear ole dad watches.”

“What?” You choked out, looking at your stepdad and waiting for him to say this was all just an elaborate prank or something… But that’s not what he said at all.

“The only options are with or without me present. Either way, Tommy won the bet fair and square. At least if I’m here I can make sure he doesn’t go too rough on you.”

“But, I- I don’t…” You whimpered, eyes already tearing up.

“Are you a virgin, sweetheart?” Tommy asked gently, stepping forward and brushing the back of his finger over your cheek as he studied your face. You nodded and your bottom lip started trembling. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing…” He cooed, then glanced at Jackson. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried out her cunt yet.”

“She just turned 18 last month, Tommy.” He scoffed. “I’m a bad person, but I’m not that bad.” Tommy looked back at you with a small smirk.

“Shame… Because now I get to be the first one to use her little pussy.” He seemed absolutely delighted by the fact and your whole body started trembling in fear. “I can already tell you’re going to be such a good girl.” He said quietly, leaning closer to you. “Maybe even good enough to take us both, hm?”

You let out a choked sob and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling completely helpless. It’s not like you can ask Jackson to make this stop… He already made it very clear that this is happening whether you want it to or not.

“Tell you what, since I get to use her cunt first, why don’t you take her first kiss?” He grabbed your cheeks in one hand and turned you to face your stepdad. “I’m feeling rather generous tonight.” Jackson stepped closer and Tommy let go of your face as he backed away. Once he was in front of you, he gently cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. You stared up at him with glossy eyes, silently pleading for mercy.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that.” He groaned, voice low and raspy, as his gaze dragged all over your face. “I’ll make sure he goes easy on you, don’t worry.” He promised, not calming you at all.

You stiffened when he leaned forward, unable to do anything but watch as he slowly approached. His lips brushed yours before finally taking you into a kiss. You let out a soft whimper and his hand snaked around to the back of your head, keeping you from pulling away. Letting out a soft gasp when his tongue brushed your lips, he used that opportunity to deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth, making it even sloppier. After another moment, he finally pulled back, but kept his face close to yours as both of you panted.

“You’re such a good girl.” He cooed and you blushed at the praise. “Fucking perfect… I hate that I have to share you tonight.” It was like a bucket of cold water was thrown on your head as you suddenly remembered what was about to happen.

“My turn.” Tommy said firmly, stepping closer again. Jackson reluctantly moved away, giving the other man enough room to grab your hair and roughly turn you to face him. You gasped at the pain on your scalp, and then again when his other hand settled on your lower back, pulling you into his body as he captured your lips in a kiss.

Snaking his hand down, he squeezed your ass over your dress, pulling you even closer until you could feel his bulge digging into your stomach. You whined in response, not used to being touched like this, or feeling something so crude, and he let out a low chuckle before moving back.

“Y’know… I bet your daddy’s been wanting to do this for a long time.” He said quietly, smirking a little. “Between you and me, I think he lost on purpose.” He mused, talking in a teasing stage whisper.

Your bottom lip continued trembling and you glanced at Jackson before looking back at Tommy, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, sweetheart. If you get me all worked up, I might not be able to be gentle.” He mused. You let out a choked sob, but quickly tried to stifle it because of his warning, which seemed to please him a lot. “So obedient…” He murmured, looking over you with a small smirk. “You’ve always been a good girl, haven’t you? Always so trusting and naive…” You swallowed nervously as you stared up at him, unconsciously trying to move away but being unable to because of his hand on your hair and your ass.

“Now,” His hand let go to start petting your hair as his gaze shifted between your eyes and lips, “I won the bet fair and square. So you’re going to be a good girl and let me claim my prize right?”

You bit your lip and looked over at your stepdad who nodded, telling you to agree. “Yes…” You whispered, looking back at Tommy.

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” He smiled, then took a step back, letting his hands drop to his sides. “Strip. Let your daddy and I get a good look at what we’re working with.” His smile turned into a smirk and you looked between them nervously, hesitating.

“Do as he says, sweetheart.” Jackson urged gently.

“Be a good girl and maybe I’ll even give you an orgasm or two. Would you like that?” Tommy asked, making your cheeks heat up. You’ve heard the word before, but you’ve never actually experienced it yourself.

“I- I don’t…” You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze, making Tommy chuckle quietly.

“Christ, Rippner, where'd you find such an innocent little thing?” He scoffed in amused disbelief and your blush darkened in response.

“Her mom had her in Catholic school.” He explained with a small shrug. You’ve always been a little embarrassed about your upbringing and the way it made you different from a lot of other girls your age.

Tommy hummed in acknowledgment, then reached out to grab your chin and turn you back to him. “You don’t want to disappoint your daddy, do you?” He cooed mockingly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You glanced at Jackson again before shaking your head. “Then be a good girl and do as you're told.”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #jackson rippner x reader smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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oceandolores · 3 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 2

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦,"

summary: as time progressed, Joel notice something's wrong and then at one night, You stood at his door, looking disheveled and distressed, your face streaked with tears and your clothes rumpled.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 2

masterlist of the series!

previous | chapter one

next | chapter three

Saturday arrived with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake. The dinner invitation at Tommy and Maria's hung over your head like a dark cloud. Joel had decided to come, partly due to Ellie and Tommy's insistence, and also because it was a chance to catch up with your family, the Gibsons.

The aftermath of last Sunday's beating from your father for abandoning your duty at church service had left you changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a quiet resilience. Your body was still sore, the bruises and scars not fully healed, making even the simplest movements painful.

You worried some of the wounds might be infected, as you had been running a high fever and coughing for days. Your mother was concerned but too scared to take you to the hospital. In this small town, everyone knew each other, and a trip to the doctor would raise questions. Your family's reputation, especially with your father being the town preacher, was paramount. So, your mother did her best to care for you at home, but it wasn't enough.

You still went to school, hiding your condition under oversized sweaters. You had no close friends, just a few acquaintances, but you were well-known as one of the prettiest girls and the preacher's daughter. Boys liked you, always trying to get close, but you kept your distance. One day at school, Ellie noticed you didn't look well and asked if you were sick. You lied, saying you were fine.

"You sure? You don't look so good," Ellie said, her eyes filled with concern.

"I'm fine, Ellie, really. Just tired from studying for finals," you replied, forcing a smile.

Ellie frowned, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will," you promised, though you weren't sure if it was a promise you could keep.

As one of the smartest students, your teachers noticed your decline and sent you to the school's psychologist. The psychologist observed your physical and mental changes, but you lied again, blaming sleepless nights spent preparing for graduation.

As your family prepared to go to the Millers, you told your mother you might not be able to go because your body was still sore. The scars hadn't healed, and you worried about infection. You'd had a high fever for days.

"Mama, I don't think I can go tonight. My body still hurts so much," you said, your voice weak.

Your mother, worried but too afraid to confront your father, insisted you come. "You know your father will be angry if you don't come. It's better if you come, even if you're not feeling well," she said, her voice trembling.

Reluctantly, you agreed. For the first time in a while, you applied makeup to cover the bruises on your skin, arms, and the corners of your eyes and cheeks. Your father reminded you to behave, to maintain decorum as a preacher's daughter, and not to embarrass him.

"Remember, you represent this family. Behave yourself and don't cause any trouble," your father said sternly.

"Yes, Father," you replied, obedient as always, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. The weight of his expectations bore down on you, threatening to crush the fragile strength you had left.

At Tommy and Maria's house, Joel and Ellie were already there. Your family arrived at their front door, your mother's grip on the pasta dish tightening as if it were a lifeline.

Maria opened the door with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of your family. "Oh, Evelyn! Father Gibson! It's so good to see you all. Come in, come in!"

Your mother returned the smile, albeit a bit strained. "Thank you, Maria. We brought some pasta for adding some to the dishes."

"Oh, Evelyn, this pasta looks amazing. Thank you so much," Maria said, taking the dish and placing a gentle hand on your mother's arm. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," your mother replied, her voice soft. "It's the least we could do."

Maria led you all inside, the house filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. You stepped in and immediately met Ellie.

"Hey, how are you? You didn't look so good at school the other day," she said, her voice full of concern.

"I'm okay, just a bit under the weather," you lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ellie asked again, her eyes narrowing with worry. "You really didn't look well. Are you getting enough rest?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying for finals."

Ellie wasn't convinced but nodded. "Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know, okay? We can study together if that helps."

"Thank you, Ellie. I appreciate it," you said, grateful for her concern but knowing you had to keep your secrets hidden.

Maria, finishing her conversation with your mother, turned her attention to you. "Sweetheart, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?"

In front of your parents, you forced another smile. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired," you said, your voice steady but hollow.

Your mother quickly added to the lie, her voice filled with false cheerfulness. "Oh, you know Maria. She's almost graduate and been working so hard on her studies. It's just stress, really, right honey?" You nodded to your mother.

Your father, ever the manipulator, chimed in with a practiced smile. "She's fine, just been studying hard for her finals. Nothing to worry about."

Maria looked unconvinced but didn't press further. It was just another sad reminder of the facade your family maintained, the preacher's household hiding its cracks beneath a veneer of perfection.

You moved further into the house, your father's charm offensive continuing as he greeted Tommy. "Tommy, good to see you! How's everything going?"

"Going well, Tony. Just keeping busy with the business and this little guy," Tommy said, gesturing to his newborn son, Luke.

"He's adorable," you said, managing a genuine smile as you looked at the baby. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders lightened.

"Thank you," Tommy said proudly. "He's a handful, but we're loving every minute."

As you continued to mingle, you felt Joel's eyes on you. He was helping Tommy with the food, but his concern was palpable. He approached you, his expression serious.

You smiled at Joel, remembering the last time you interacted with him by the lake. That memory was a rare bright spot amidst the pain your father had caused after it.

"Hey, Joel. Good to see you here," you said, wondering why he decided to come. You tried to lighten the mood, despite the pain radiating through your body with every movement. The fabric of your clothes rubbed against your skin, irritating the unhealed scars, but you did your best to endure it.

"Ellie and Tommy wouldn't take no for an answer," Joel replied, his tone a mix of annoyance and warmth.

You chuckled softly, though the motion sent a sharp pain through your ribs. "They can be pretty persuasive."

Joel's eyes softened slightly, but his concern remained. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying. It's near my graduation, and I have to prepare for the finals."

Joel's eyes lingered on you, taking in the pallor of your skin and the dark circles under your eyes. "You look sick. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. Joel was a man of few words, often letting his actions speak for him. His gruff exterior hid a deeply protective nature, one that he rarely showed to anyone. "I'm okay, really. Just a bit run down," you replied, trying to sound convincing.

Joel frowned, clearly not convinced, but he decided to lighten the mood. "So, how's school going? When are the big finals?"

You forced a smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, finals are coming up. Lots of studying and late nights."

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "I remember those days. Ellie gives me a hard time about studying too. But she's a smart kid, just like you."

"Thanks, Joel," you said softly, appreciating his attempt to comfort you. You cracked a small joke, trying to lighten the mood. "I just hope I don't end up like a zombie by the end of it."

Joel chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. He noticed how you occasionally winced and shifted your weight, clearly in pain. "You sure everything's okay at home?" he asked gently.

"Everything's great," you lied, remembering your father's stern warning. "Just the usual stress of school and stuff."

Joel's concern deepened, but he didn't push further. But before Joel could probe further, your father suddenly joined the conversation, his presence commanding attention.

"Joel, good to see you," he said with a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"

Joel straightened, his demeanor shifting. "Just catching up, Reverend."

Your father chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Joel, we’re at dinner. Call me Tony. We’re friends, remember?"

"Sure, Tony," Joel said, though the familiarity felt forced.

"How's the construction business going, Joel?" your father asked, his tone amiable.

"Busy as always," Joel replied, his eyes drifting back to you occasionally. "But it's good. Keeps me occupied."

Your father nodded, pretending to be interested. "That's great to hear. We should get together sometime, reminisce about the old days."

Joel's gaze met yours briefly, and you felt a flutter of something in your chest. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, his voice lacking enthusiasm but polite nonetheless.

As they continued to talk, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, feeling a strange sense of longing. His concern was genuine, unlike the superficial care your father displayed. It made you yearn for something more, something real.

Joel's eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt like he could see everything you were hiding. His concern was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a small comfort in the midst of your storm. You smiled at him, a silent thank you for his kindness, and he returned the gesture with a slight nod.

"You remember the time we went fishing at the lake, Joel?" your father said, trying to sound nostalgic. "We caught that huge bass, and you almost fell in trying to reel it in."

Joel smiled, though it was a shadow of his usual warmth. "Yeah, I remember. Good times."

You watched the exchange, feeling a pang of longing. Joel's presence was a reminder of what you were missing – genuine care and concern, something your father could never provide.

As dinner progressed, everyone was making conversations and catching up. You remained silent, but to avoid suspicion, you occasionally joined in, talking to Ellie and responding when someone addressed you. Joel observed quietly, speaking only when necessary or when someone engaged him directly. His occasional glances toward you felt like anchors, ensuring you didn’t drift too far into the depths of your own discomfort.

When it was time to sit down for the meal, you ended up seated across from Joel. Your father, ever the sociable one, continued to dominate the conversation, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. You picked at your food, the pain in your body making it hard to eat.

Joel noticed your discomfort, his eyes filled with quiet concern. He whispered after you shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time, "You sure you're okay?" this time in a whisper so your father wouldn’t hear.

You forced another smile. "I'm fine, Joel. Just tired."

He didn't look convinced, but he let it go, respecting your space. His presence, though, was a constant reminder that someone cared, even if you couldn't fully accept it.

The conversation flowed around you, snippets of dialogue filling the air.

"So, Ellie," your mother said, smiling warmly, "how's school treating you?"

"It's good, Mrs. Gibson. A lot of work, but I'm managing," Ellie replied, glancing at you with a reassuring smile.

Your father, ever the charming host, turned to Tommy. "And how's the construction business? Keeping you busy, I hope?"

Tommy laughed. "Busy doesn't even begin to cover it. We're swamped, but that's a good problem to have."

Joel's eyes flicked back to you as you winced slightly, shifting in your seat. He could see the struggle in your movements, the way you tried to hide your pain. His gaze softened, but he remained silent, respecting your space.

Tommy, clearly enjoying the topic, continued with enthusiasm. "We’re working on this big project downtown. It’s a major redevelopment of an old warehouse into luxury apartments. It's been a challenge, but it’s rewarding. We’re talking high-end finishes, state-of-the-art amenities. It’s a bit of a tightrope walk between maintaining the budget and meeting the client’s vision."

Your father, clearly interested, responded with a knowing nod. "Sounds like a big undertaking. How’s the team handling the pressure?"

Tommy grinned. "We’ve got a solid crew, but it’s been intense. Lots of late nights and early mornings. Joel’s seen the stress firsthand. He’s been around to lend a hand whenever things get tight."

Tommy’s gaze turned to Joel, as if inviting him to elaborate. "Right, Joel? You’ve had your fair share of those late nights, haven’t you?"

Joel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, late nights and long days. It’s all part of the job. We keep pushing through because, in the end, it’s worth it."

Your father leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "You’ve been in the business a long time, Joel. What’s been the biggest challenge for you lately?"

Joel paused for a moment, thinking. "The biggest challenge is always adapting to new demands. Clients want more, and sometimes it feels like we’re racing against the clock. But we get it done."

Tommy, sensing an opportunity to keep the conversation lively, added, "Joel’s been great about handling the unexpected. I remember one time we had a major issue with a contractor, and Joel stepped in and saved the day."

Joel’s expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes for Tommy’s support. "Just doing what needs to be done," he said.

Your mother’s voice was bright and enthusiastic as she shifted the topic. "Tommy, Maria, how’s little Luke doing? I can't believe how quickly he's growing."

Maria’s face lit up with pride. "He’s amazing. It’s been an adjustment, but we’re loving every moment of it. He’s starting to smile more, and it's just the sweetest thing."

Your mother nodded approvingly, her smile wide. "Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s such a joy to watch them grow. We’ve always said that parenting is the most rewarding experience."

The words felt like a raw wound being picked at, each one a reminder of the dissonance between their image of perfect parenting and your own reality. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the sharp pangs of pain that only seemed to intensify with every sugary comment.

Your father, ever the performer, joined in with his own brand of parental wisdom. "Yes, it’s true. Parenting brings out the best in you. It's about guiding them, teaching them right from wrong, and showing them how to navigate the world."

Tommy, clearly enjoying the turn of conversation, added, "Absolutely. We’ve had our challenges, but it’s worth it to see Luke grow and thrive. Every milestone is a victory."

Your mother leaned in with an air of authority. "And don’t forget the importance of structure and discipline. It’s all about finding that balance and being consistent. We always said that’s key to raising well-rounded children."

As the conversation continued, your parents spoke in glowing terms about their parenting philosophy, each statement reinforcing the image of perfection they projected. The more they spoke, the more you felt the weight of their insincerity.

The pain you were trying to suppress seemed to magnify with every word. You gripped your fork tighter, the effort making your knuckles white. You wanted to scream at the facade, the false sense of superiority they exuded while completely ignoring the reality of your struggles.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to you repeatedly, his concern growing more evident with each shift in your posture. He watched as you tried to mask your discomfort, his gaze softening as he saw the strain on your face.

Maria, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your demeanor as well. "Everything alright, sweetheart?" she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced another smile, though it felt like a mask slipping off. "Just a bit tired, Maria. Nothing to worry about."

Maria didn’t press further but her gaze remained concerned. She glanced at Joel, who gave a subtle nod, acknowledging her unspoken question. Joel’s eyes continued to linger on you, the concern etched deeply into his expression.

As the conversation shifted to a more religious tone, your father, ever the preacher, began to elaborate on his views. His voice took on that familiar, reverent cadence. "Children are a gift from God," he said, his eyes sweeping over the table as if to bless it with his words. "They are entrusted to us to guide, nurture, and instill the values that will shape their futures. It's a sacred duty, one that brings us closer to our faith and to each other."

He continued, the fervor in his voice rising, "The Bible teaches us that we are stewards of these precious souls. Our responsibility is not just to provide for their physical needs, but to mold their character, teach them right from wrong, and guide them in the ways of the Lord."

The words, so full of sanctimonious zeal, felt like a punch to your gut. Each statement was a cruel reminder of the gap between his idealized view of parenting and the harsh reality of your own life. You could feel your discomfort intensify, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

Joel’s gaze shifted between your father’s preachy sermon and your growing distress. His brow furrowed, sensing the tension in the room. He saw you clutching your stomach, your face growing pale. Maria’s concern mirrored his as she glanced at you, her eyes filled with empathy.

Feeling trapped, you struggled to maintain composure, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white. The facade of your father's perfect parenting began to feel like a cruel joke, and the more he spoke, the harder it became to stay seated.

Finally, unable to endure any more, you excused yourself. "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," you said, standing up quickly. Your voice was strained, but you tried to keep it steady.

Your father’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made you shiver. "Sit down, dear. It’s not polite to excuse yourself while others are speaking. We’re all here to enjoy each other’s company." The reprimand felt like a vise tightening around you.

You glanced around the table, feeling the pressure of everyone’s gaze. "I really need to go," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to hold your ground.

Your father’s smile turned colder, and the sharpness in his tone cut through the tension. "If you must go," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if warning you not to embarrass him further. "But do you know where the bathroom is? Don't want to bother Tommy and Maria, they are still eating,"

Before you or Tommy an Maria could respond, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady. "I can show her where it is. I’m finished eating, so I can walk her there."

Your father’s eyes flicked to Joel, his expression softening slightly in a forced show of graciousness. "Thank you, Joel."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a small measure of relief as you met Joel’s concerned gaze. He stood up, his movements deliberate and calm. Maria was occupied with Evelyn, and Ellie was still eating, leaving Joel as the most suitable candidate to help you.

Joel approached you quietly, his demeanor gentle as he offered a reassuring smile. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

You nodded, standing up with a sense of cautious relief. As you walked toward the hallway with Joel, you could feel the weight of the conversation still hanging over you. Joel’s presence was a quiet comfort, his concern a stark contrast to the harshness of your father’s demeanor.

As you made your way down the hall, Joel glanced at you, his eyes filled with genuine worry. "You feeling okay, kid?"

You managed a small, appreciative smile. "I'm good, thanks, Joel."

He gave a reassuring nod as you approached the bathroom door. "I’ll be right here if you need anything. Just take your time."

As you stepped inside the bathroom, the coolness of the tile against your skin was a brief respite from the tension. You leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The solitude offered a momentary escape from the scrutiny and discomfort you’d felt at the table.

With trembling hands, you slowly opened your dress to check the scars, the ones that had been worsening over the past few days. The sight of them made your heart sink further. They were inflamed, bruised, and itching painfully. You traced the edges with your fingertips, and the pain was sharp and immediate. A stifled hiss escaped your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. The physical agony was overwhelming, but it was compounded by the emotional turmoil of the evening.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the pain made it difficult. Your fingers brushed the scars again, and a small, anguished cry escaped you. The pain was almost unbearable, and you felt the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably.

From outside the door, Joel’s voice cut through the quiet. "Kid, is everything alright in there?"

His voice, tinged with concern, snapped you back to reality. You quickly wiped your tears, trying to compose yourself. "I’m fine, Joel. Just... give me a minute."

There was a moment of silence before Joel spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "If something’s wrong, you can tell me. I’m here to help."

You hesitated, the pain and fear making it hard to respond. "I... it’s just—it's nothing serious. I’ll be out in a second."

After a few deep breaths and a final check, you composed yourself as best as you could. You pulled your dress back into place, the physical discomfort still sharp but slightly more manageable. You wiped away the remaining tears, trying to regain your composure.

Opening the bathroom door, you found Joel still standing there, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and patience. You offered him a shaky smile, hoping to convey that you were alright. "Thanks for waiting."

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his concern deepening as he took in the faint tremble in your hands and the redness in your eyes. "You okay, kid?"

You nodded and smiled, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

Joel didn't respond immediately, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You look...like you're in pain."

Your smile faltered, and you looked down, unable to maintain the facade under his steady gaze. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to deflect. “Just...school stress."

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he decided not to push further. "Alright, if you say so. Let’s get back to dinner.”

You both returned to the dining room, where the atmosphere had lightened considerably. The meal continued with lively conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warm glow of shared company.

After dinner, your mom joined Maria in the kitchen to help with the dishes, their laughter and chatter floating through the house. Outside, your father, Tommy, and Joel settled on the backyard porch, their conversation punctuated by the occasional sound of a beer bottle opening or the murmur of crickets.

You found yourself in the living room with Ellie, who was scrolling through her phone while little Luke slept peacefully on the couch. You took a seat next to her, and she looked up, smiling.

"Hey," you said, leaning back into the cushions. "How's school been for you?"

Ellie shrugged, putting her phone down. "It's alright, I guess. Same old stuff. How about you? Finals must be tough, huh?"

"Yeah, they are," you admitted. "But it's almost over. Just a few more months, and then we're done."

Ellie grinned. "Bet you can't wait to get out of here."

You laughed softly. "Yeah, it's definitely time for a change. How about you? Any plans after high school?"

"Maybe college, if I can figure out what I want to do," Ellie replied. "So...Tell me, are there any boys at school you've got your eye on?" She tease giving you a smirk.

You blushed, shaking your head. "No, not really."

Ellie rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows you're like the most popular girl in school. The boys are all over you."

You sighed, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I can't say I'm like that and it's not quite like that. They're just...curious, I guess."

"Curious about what?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know, it seems like they're curious about me."

Ellie then brought up what she saw a week ago. "So...don't want to be nosy, but I saw you with Jamie the other day. Is he the one?" She gave you a smirk, clearly enjoying teasing you.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "No, he's just a friend."

"Come on, you can tell me," Ellie insisted, nudging you playfully.

You blushed and tried to deflect, but Ellie wasn't letting up. "Stop, Ellie. It was nothing."

Ellie grinned, leaning in closer. "Okay, but don't tell anyone. Jamie's been trying to get close to me. It's been going on for two months now. We’ve gone out a few times. He’s kissed me, but it hasn’t gone beyond that."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, looking more serious. “And he’s asking for more, isn’t he?”

You nodded, feeling a knot of confusion and frustration in your chest. “Yeah. He keeps bringing up sex, but I’ve told him I’m not ready. He said he’d wait, but he keeps asking. I don’t know what to do.”

Ellie leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “Jamie’s the captain of the football team, right? Popular, blonde, not too smart?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed, sighing. “He’s nice, but this pressure... I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Ellie nodded understandingly. “You shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for. If Jamie really cares about you, he’ll respect your boundaries. And if he doesn’t, then he’s not worth it.”

You sighed again, the weight of your father's teachings pressing down on you. "But... I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed if I don’t do what he wants. Jamie is nice and polite. His family has giving our church a lot...he also giving me a lot of nice stuff, like dress, necklace and all. My dad always said if someone’s nice to you, you should be nice back. And always obey men because they’re higher in status than women."

Ellie’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Who told you that?"

You shrugged, feeling a bit defensive. "My father."

Ellie shook her head, her expression turning serious. "That’s...kinda messed up. Just because someone’s nice doesn’t mean you owe them anything, especially not your body. And men aren’t superior to women. We’re all equal."

You bit your lip, considering her words. "But that’s how my daddy raised me, Ellie. He always says women should obey men."

Ellie leaned forward, her eyes filled with conviction. "Well, according on how Joel raise me. He taught me to stand up for myself and that I’m just as important as any man. It’s about respect, not obedience. You don’t owe Jamie anything just because he’s nice. If he can’t respect your boundaries, he’s not worth your time."

You felt a flicker of hope at her words. "I... I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to go against everything I’ve been taught."

Ellie reached out and squeezed your hand. "I know it’s hard, but you deserve to be with someone who respects you and your choices. Don’t let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less than you are."

When Ellie said that, it felt like a hit to the chest. "Don't let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less..." Her words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that was both comforting and terrifying. You wished you could believe it, wished you had the strength to stand up to your father. But the reality of your life loomed large and unyielding. Defiance meant danger. Defiance meant pain.

As Ellie's words replayed in your head, you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. You imagined standing up to your father, telling him that you were more than his expectations, more than his strict rules and harsh punishments. The thought made your heart race with a blend of hope and fear.

You glanced at Ellie, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective light. She believed in you, saw your worth even when you couldn't. It was a beacon in the darkness of your doubt, a small but vital spark of hope.

Yet, the idea of challenging your father felt insurmountable. His shadow stretched long over your life, dictating your every move, every thought. You had been molded by his will, taught to obey without question, to live in the confines of his rigid beliefs.

You had to pretend to be the perfect daughter, maintaining the facade that your father was the saintly preacher everyone believed him to be. The weight of this pretense was suffocating, but it was the only way you knew to survive.

Outside, the conversation between Tommy and your father continued, their voices a low hum against the backdrop of the evening. Joel, on the other hand, was mostly silent, nursing his beer as he leaned against the porch railing. His eyes flicked occasionally to the living room, where you and Ellie were talking.

Joel's expression was hard to read, but there was a tension in his jaw, a tightness in his grip on the beer bottle that hinted at his unease. He listened more to your conversation than to Tommy and your father's, though he tried to appear disinterested. Something about you drew him in, made him care more than he wanted to admit. He told himself it was none of his business, that he had no right to interfere in someone else’s family matters. But still, there was a nagging feeling in his gut, an instinct honed by years of protecting those he loved.

As Joel watched you, he saw the way your shoulders slumped slightly when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes darted nervously to the doorway whenever a noise came from the kitchen. You were like a skittish animal, always on alert, always ready to flee or freeze. It reminded him too much of the broken children he'd seen in the aftermath of tragedy, children who had learned too young that the world was a dangerous place.

He took another sip of his beer, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't need more complications in his life. He had enough to deal with, enough to protect. But damn it, there was something about you, something that called out to the part of him that had once been a father, that still is a father to Ellie. It was a part of him that couldn't ignore the signs of distress, the silent cries for help.

In the living room, Ellie continued to speak softly, her words a balm to your troubled heart. "You know," she said, squeezing your hand, "no matter what, you've got me. If you ever need to get away, to take a break, my door's always open."

You looked at her, the warmth in her eyes contrasting sharply with the cold dread that usually filled your days. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice barely holding back the tears. "It means more than you know."

Joel caught that moment, saw the brief glimpse of vulnerability and the strength it took for you to accept Ellie’s offer of support. It stirred something deep within him, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time.

He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the conversation outside. Tommy was laughing at something your father said, their voices blending into the background noise of the night. But even as he tried to tune them out, his mind kept drifting back to you. He didn't know what he could do, or if he should do anything at all.

As the evening wore on, Joel glanced back at you one last time, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to help, without overstepping the boundaries he was so careful to maintain.

***

The last few weeks had been a blur of routine and unspoken tension. Each day felt like a balancing act, with you trying to maintain the perfect image your father demanded while wrestling with your own growing doubts and fears. The only moments of relief came when you could steal a few minutes alone with Ellie, her unwavering support a lifeline in the storm.

One evening after school, you found yourself in your usual spot on the porch, the soft hum of cicadas filling the air. You hugged your knees to your chest, staring out at the darkening sky, your thoughts a tangled mess. You were wearing a nice white mini dress, modest yet elegant, with your hair braided into two sides and adorned with white ribbons.

You had managed to keep up appearances at church, attending every service, helping with every event, but the pressure was becoming unbearable. The weight of your father's expectations pressed down on you like a vise, and each day it grew tighter.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar truck parked in your driveway. You watched as a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and black hair stepped out. He had a ruggedly handsome look about him, and as he saw you, a charming smile spread across his face. He stood there for a moment, then walked towards you with an air of confidence.

“Evenin’,” he said, his voice a smooth drawl. “Is this Father Gibson’s house?”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing your dress. “Yes, it is. Can I help you with something?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Well, aren’t you a polite one? I’m lookin’ for the Reverend. Is he around?”

You nodded again, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “He’s inside. I can get him for you.”

As you turned to go inside, he called after you, his voice teasing. “You know, you’ve got a real pretty smile. Brightens up the whole place.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and forced a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Inside, you found your father in his study, poring over his notes for Sunday’s sermon. “Dad, there’s someone here to see you.”

Your father looked up, frowning slightly. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know his name, but he’s outside waiting,” you replied.

Your father nodded, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. You followed him, your curiosity piqued.

The man was waiting patiently on the porch, his hands in his pockets. As your father approached, he extended a hand with a broad smile. “Reverend Gibson, pleasure to meet you. I'm Naomi's cousin, I assume she already told you?"

Your father shook his hand, a wary look in his eyes. “Ah, yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."

The man leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I was hopin’ we could have a little chat. Got some things I’d like to discuss."

Your father glanced at you, then back at him. “Of course. Let’s step inside.”

As they moved inside, the man glanced back at you, giving you a wink. You watched them disappear into the house, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling inside you.

Not long after, you heard the rumble of Jamie's truck pulling up. Your heart lightened, and you smiled, walking towards the driveway with an eagerness that belied the tension you had been feeling all day. You hung by the fences, your fingers curling around the cool metal as Jamie got out of his truck.

"Hi, Jamie," you said, your voice bright with excitement.

Jamie grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. "Hey sweetpie, how are ya doing? looking beautiful as ever,"

Jamie’s compliment made your cheeks flush, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m doing alright. How about you?”

Jamie’s grin widened. “Can’t complain. I was thinking maybe we could catch that new movie tonight. What do you say?”

The thought of escaping the confines of home and spending a carefree evening with Jamie was a welcome distraction. “That sounds great. But I need to ask my dad first.”

Jamie nodded, settling back into the truck as you approached the front door. The door swung open, and you saw your father still deep in conversation with the man you didn’t know, whose gaze was fixed intently on you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unnerving feeling that his eyes were tracing every inch of you.

You spoke to your father, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Father, Jamie asked if I could go to the cinema with him tonight. Is it okay?”

Your father glanced at you briefly, then at the man, whose expression was inscrutable but decidedly interested. “Jamie Lee?” your father asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you replied.

Your father’s eyes flickered with annoyance at being interrupted but softened as he looked at you. “It’s not ideal to leave while we have a guest here, but alright, you can go. Be back by eight.”

You thanked him and turned to leave, but as you did, you couldn’t help but notice how the man’s gaze lingered on you. His eyes, though polite, seemed to hold a predatory glint, scanning you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly.

You gave a nervous smile as you rejoined Jamie at the truck, who was looking at you with a hopeful expression. “Dad said it’s fine. Let’s go.”

Jamie’s face lit up, and he slid into the driver’s seat with an easy grin. As he started the engine, he turned on some country music, the tunes filling the truck and momentarily lifting your spirits. The drive was smooth, and you found yourself relaxing, your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.

After the movie, Jamie suggested a detour. “How about we grab a drink? There’s a little bar outside of town where we can chill for a bit. What do you say?”

You hesitated, not entirely sure about the idea but wanting to enjoy the evening. “I don’t know… I’m not really into drinking.”

Jamie reassured you with a charming smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Just one drink, I promise.”

When you arrived at the bar, a dimly lit place with a cozy, rustic feel, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Jamie led you inside, and you slid onto a barstool. Jamie ordered whiskey for himself and told you he’d get you something sweet.

The bartender handed you a glass, and you took a tentative sip, expecting a cherry cola. Instead, the liquid was warm and had a strong, unfamiliar bite. You grimaced, looking at Jamie with confusion. “This doesn’t taste like cherry cola. Are you sure this is what I ordered?”

Jamie leaned in, his voice low and soothing. “Nah, it’s whiskey, babe. I thought you might want to try something a bit more adventurous.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I can’t drink whiskey. I’ve never had it before, and my dad would be really angry if he found out.”

Jamie gave you a reassuring smile, placing a hand on your back. “Relax. It’s just a drink. No one’s gonna know. Besides, it’s just one drink. You’ll be fine.”

You hesitated, glancing around the bar. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in your stomach. Jamie’s insistence and easy demeanor made it hard to say no. You took another small sip, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

Jamie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched you. “Just have a little more. You might actually like it. It’s good for loosening up, you know?”

Reluctantly, you took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through you. The whiskey tasted harsh and made you cough slightly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

Jamie laughed, a bit too loudly, but with a genuine affection in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax and have fun. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

Despite the alcohol, you felt an uneasy flutter in your stomach, the drink making you feel lightheaded. Jamie encouraged you to drink more, and you found yourself gradually giving in, the whiskey dulling the edges of your anxiety.

As the evening wore on, you felt the effects of the alcohol more clearly. Your thoughts became hazy, and the room seemed to spin slightly. Jamie’s presence became more comforting, and his laughter more infectious. He kept encouraging you to drink, telling you it was all in good fun.

The bar buzzed with life around you, but the world felt distant, the sounds muffled by the warmth and haze of whiskey. Jamie’s arm around your shoulders was a constant presence, a mix of comfort and tension that made your skin tingle.

As he helped you into the truck, his touch was firm, and you leaned against him, inhaling the potent blend of whiskey and his cologne. The city lights outside blurred, a streak of neon against the dark sky, but Jamie abruptly pulled over to a quiet, secluded road.

“Jamie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Jamie’s gaze was intense, a smoldering look that seemed to pierce through the fog of your mind. “I just wanted to be alone with you,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly slurred. His fingers traced your jawline, his touch both tender and possessive.

The air in the truck was thick with anticipation, charged with an electric tension that you couldn’t ignore. Jamie leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

A shiver cascaded down your spine at his words, a confusing mix of desire and trepidation swirling within you. The whiskey had softened your inhibitions, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.

His words were like a seductive caress, stirring a deep, unsettling need. “Jamie, I can't,” you began to say, but his lips silenced you, capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.

His lips were rough, demanding, and they moved with an intensity that set your senses alight. His hands roamed over your body, finding the buttons of your blouse with a hunger that made your heart race. he's messaging your boobs you slowly moan because it feels so good.

The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate urgency. His hands were warm but rough, the contrast of his touch creating a mix of discomfort and electric thrill.

You felt a rising heat as he tugged at your blouse, the fabric yielding under his insistent fingers. “Just this once,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot and ragged. “It’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted, I promise.”

A part of you wanted to resist, but the intoxicating mix of his touch and your own growing desire blurred your judgment. You felt a strange, almost reckless surrender, your boundaries melting away in the intensity of the moment.

"Stop, I-I can't," you said

"I promise, it will feel good, baby," he said

Jamie’s fingers moved with a deliberate skill, teasing and exploring your most sensitive spots. You gasped as his touch sent jolts of pleasure through your body, making your head swim with a mix of desire and confusion. The whiskey's lingering warmth mingled with the heat rising within you, clouding your ability to think clearly.

His other hand slid down your back, pulling you closer until you were almost on his lap. The friction between your bodies only intensified the sensations coursing through you. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a hard, undeniable reminder of his desire.

“Jamie,” you breathed, your voice a mix of protest and longing. “I shouldn’t—”

But your words were cut off as his fingers found their mark, pressing and circling with just the right pressure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. A moan escaped your lips, unbidden and undeniable.

“Just let go,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “I’ve got you.”

His mouth found yours again, the kiss deepening as he continued to work you with his fingers. Your body responded eagerly, every nerve ending on fire. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you surrendered to the sensations overwhelming you.

With a deftness born of experience, he slipped your blouse off your shoulders, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Your skin tingled where he touched, each kiss sending a wave of heat through you.

His hands moved to your breasts, kneading and teasing, his mouth following close behind. The contrast of his rough fingers and the softness of his lips was intoxicating, making you arch into his touch. You could feel the last vestiges of your resistance crumbling, your body aching.

“Jamie,” you whispered, your voice a mix of wanting for more but you are scared, “Please, stop…”

His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in shedding his own clothes. The sight of him, bare and ready, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He reached for you, pulling you close until you were both lying back on the seat, your bodies entwined.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Jamie, please,” you begged, a note of panic creeping into your voice as his grip tightened and his movements became rougher. The initial pleasure was swiftly giving way to pain, each thrust sending shockwaves of discomfort through your body.

“Stop, Jamie, it hurts,” you pleaded, trying to push him away. But he was too strong, his body a heavy weight pinning you down. His eyes, glazed over with alcohol and desire, didn’t seem to register your distress. Instead, his anger flared, his thrusts becoming more forceful and unrelenting.

Tears streamed down your face as you cried out in pain, your voice breaking with each sob. “Please, stop! Jamie, please stop!” you screamed, your hands frantically pushing against his chest, but it was no use. He was lost to his own needs, driven by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

You felt a deep, pervasive sense of violation, your body and spirit shattering with each brutal movement. Desperation clawed at your insides as you prayed for an end to the torment. “God, please make him stop,” you whispered through your tears, your voice a broken, helpless plea.

But Jamie didn’t stop. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. The pain was overwhelming, each thrust tearing through you, leaving you feeling dirty and used. Your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of his ragged breathing and the cruel rhythm of his assault.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, every second an eternity of agony and despair. You felt yourself slipping into a numb, distant place, a coping mechanism to survive the relentless onslaught. Your body became a vessel of pain, your mind retreating to a place where the hurt couldn’t reach you.

Finally, with a shuddering groan, Jamie reached his climax, his body stilling as he released himself inside you. The moment he pulled out and rolled away, you curled into a ball, your body shaking with sobs. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional devastation, the sense of betrayal and violation that coursed through you.

Jamie lay beside you, panting and spent, seemingly oblivious to the trauma he had inflicted. His eyes slowly cleared as the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, but the damage was already done. You felt hollow, your trust shattered, your sense of self irreparably damaged.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled, his voice thick with regret as he reached out to touch you. You flinched violently, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.

"Get away from me!" you screamed, your voice raw with pain and anger. You felt so dirty, so violated, your mind reeling from the horror of what had just happened. You wanted to disappear, to vanish from the world and escape the unbearable weight of your trauma.

Jamie pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn't mean to... I was drunk... I—" His words were a pathetic jumble of excuses, falling on deaf ears.

"Just shut up," you spat, your voice trembling with rage. "Just shut up and take me back to town. I can't be here with you. I can't even look at you."

He nodded mutely, too ashamed to argue. As he started the truck, you pulled your clothes back on with shaking hands, each movement a reminder of the violation you'd endured. The drive back was silent, the air thick with a tension that neither of you dared to break.

When the truck finally came to a stop near the outskirts of town, you didn't wait for it to fully halt before you opened the door and stumbled out. "I can walk from here," you said coldly, not looking back. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Jamie opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He simply nodded, the look of regret and sorrow etched on his face as you slammed the door shut and started walking away.

As you walked, each step felt like an eternity, your mind a whirlwind of pain and confusion. You couldn’t go home, not like this. The thought of facing your family in your current state was unbearable. Instead, you turned your steps towards Ellie’s house. She was the only one who would understand, the only one you could trust to hold you through this nightmare.

You stumbled up the porch steps, your vision blurred by tears, your makeup smeared and your hair a tangled mess. Your dress was wrinkled and torn, a stark reminder of what had happened. You knocked on the door, hugging yourself tightly in a futile attempt to keep warm, to feel safe.

When the door opened, it wasn’t Ellie who stood there. It was Joel. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with tears, your breath hitching in your chest.

Joel's eyes widened in shock and concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. "What happened?" he asked urgently, his voice trembling with worry. "What’s going on? Are you hurt?" Ellie wasn’t home; she was staying at a friend's house for the night.

The sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears, and you couldn't hold back the sobs any longer. You collapsed to the ground, your body shaking with the force of your cries. The world around you blurred into an indistinguishable mess of pain and despair.

Joel was beside you in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you. "You're safe now. I've got you."

As he held you, his heart raced, a sense of urgency fueling his every movement. He noticed the blood seeping through your legs, and panic gripped him. There was a raw, protective anger in his eyes, one that he usually kept buried deep beneath his calm exterior.

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "Joel," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "He hurt me. He wouldn’t stop. I begged him, but he wouldn’t stop."

Joel’s body went rigid, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Who hurt you?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow.

"Jamie," you sobbed, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. "I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen."

The silence that followed your confession was thick with tension. Joel’s face darkened, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness that made you feel a flicker of safety amidst your despair. He took a deep breath, clearly fighting to keep his anger in check.

"Come on, let's get you inside," he said softly, helping you to your feet. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.

He led you into the living room, where the soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light on the room, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you felt inside. Joel carefully sat you down on the couch. He needed to clean you up. The sight of your blood-soaked dress made his heart ache with a mix of sorrow and rage.

Joel disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket and a cup of tea. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring, then handed you the tea.

"Here, drink this," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’ll help."

You took the cup with trembling hands, the warmth seeping into your skin, offering a small measure of comfort. Joel sat beside you, his presence a solid anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"You don’t have to talk about it right now," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with sorrow. "But I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready."

You looked at him, the tears still streaming down your face. "I feel so dirty," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't want this. I didn’t want any of it."

Joel's face softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fierce protectiveness. "You're not dirty," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Baby, it's not your fault."

The sincerity in his voice broke something loose inside you, and you sobbed harder, your body shaking with the force of your grief. Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. “We’ll get through this,” he promised, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. For the first time in a while, Joel opened his heart, letting his walls down to show you his unwavering support.

He held you for what felt like hours, his embrace a cocoon of safety and warmth. The tears seemed endless, each one carrying a fragment of your shattered soul. But Joel remained steadfast, his presence a constant reassurance that you were not alone in your suffering.

As he held you, Joel's thoughts churned with a mix of emotions. He was a man of few words, accustomed to keeping his feelings locked away, buried deep beneath a hardened exterior. But seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, stirred something dark and primal within him.

It reminded him of his own past, the pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. The memories of Sarah, his daughter, flashed through his mind – the way he had failed to protect her, the helplessness and rage that had consumed him. He had vowed never to let himself feel that kind of pain again, to never let anyone get close enough to hurt him.

Yet here he was, holding you, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you, to shield you from the world’s cruelty. The thought of Jamie, the man who had done this to you, ignited a fierce, burning anger within him. Joel's grip tightened around you, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

He would make Jamie pay for what he had done. There was a darkness inside Joel, a ruthless side that he rarely let see the light of day. But for you, he would unleash it. He would ensure that Jamie never hurt you – or anyone else – again. The thought of revenge, of justice, gave him a grim sense of purpose, a way to channel the turmoil inside him.

Joel's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He was deeply troubled by the sight of you in such pain, and his protective instincts surged to the forefront. He knew he had to keep himself under control, to focus on helping you heal. But the thought of Jamie’s actions ignited a cold, calculated fury within him.

354 notes · View notes

borathae · 22 days ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 15 - Incubus Sex]

Pairing: Dom!Yoongi x sub f.Reader x sub!Taehyung

Genre: Incubus!Yoongi, Best Friends to Lovers!Tae x OC, Supernatural!AU

Kinks: sex in a secluded winter cabin, summoning of a sex demon, Yoongi is a lot taller and beefier than them, he also has four arms <3, and he has a split tongue and demon fangs and horns and he’s hot, god I’m such a monster fucker hahaha, dirty talk, praise, good girl & good boy kink, examination play, breast play, nipple massages, cunnilingus, rimjob, thigh riding, guided male masturbation, handjob, anal fingering, male self fuck (Tae stuffs his own ass with his own balls), he also has to jerk off in front of her while she rides Yoongi’s thigh, leather kink, pussy rubbing, multiple orgasms, magical demon spit that makes them hornier, male anal sex, magical cocks (Yoongi can shapeshift his cock), he shapeshifts it to an anal toy and fucks Tae with it while Tae has to eat her out, then later they share Yoongi, she rides his face & he gets bounced on his cock, pissing from cumming too hard, tears & screams of pleasure, aftercare

Wordcount: 10.8k

a/n: all you had to do was mention the summoning of sex demon yoongi and i knew that i had to write this fadsnfan you also wanted best friends to lovers with Tae & OC sooooo this story is filled with tension and flirting and bruh unhinged sex fsdfna have fun you little whores 🖤 ps: yoongs looks way too innocent in the header bahaha

“Do you think this is a good idea? I watched horror movies which started like this”, you told your best friend two months ago when he came running to you with the idea of going on a winter holiday together.

“Horror movies aren’t real life. It’s going to be great”, he answered and the plan was set.

You look around the place, breath coming out as white fog and nose chilly from the air. It has been snowing the entire car ride, but stopped five minutes ago. The snow sits under your feet and atop the roof of the wooden cabin. The trees carry a thick blanket as well, smaller branches bending under the weight.

The snow scrunches beside you, a deep exhale of a human follows. You turn your head, laying eyes on Taehyung’s flushed face. He is carrying both your bags, grinning from ear to ear.

“You still think this is a good idea?”

“Positivity ___, this is the best idea.”

“We stopped having signal around five kilometres back.”

“Let’s just see it as our own little digital detox.” He shoulders the bags. “Besides, this cabin has a landline.”

He walks up the three steps. You follow close behind, looking at your own feet in order not to slip and die.

“Yeah, until a serial killer decides to cut the line and murder us with an axe. I saw the movies, Tae.”

“Hush, no more talk about serial killers. This is a good idea.”

“Until it’s not.”

Taehyung turns. You collide with him, hands on his chest and lips dangerously close to touching his’. You inhale sharply, heart tightening in your chest. He is your best friend, but man, the way you feel for him would say otherwise. But that isn’t important right now. Your current situation is. You but a breath away from accidentally kissing him and him looking down at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Stop being such a nagging party pooper. This is a good idea.”

You watched his lips move as he talked. They are still moving. You don’t know what he is saying.

“___?”

“Huh?” you rip out of your trance, looking into his eyes.

He cocks his brow up at you.

“Can you unlock the door before we freeze out here?”

“Oh, uh, yeah sure”, you mumble, taking out the keys you got at the camp reception to unlock the cabin. You try to regulate your pulse while you do it, hoping that Taehyung can’t see your fingers tremble just a little. Your worries are for naught because Taehyung has his back turned to you, taking in the view.

The camp you currently find yourselves in consists of ten wooden cabins sprawled around a large lake and nestled into a valley between mountains and thick forests. If one wishes to do so, one can go ice skating on the lake or wander through the snowy woods. The mountains offer various skiing slopes and opportunities to go sledding. It was Taehyung’s idea to go on a best friend holiday together because the colder months have been stressful at both your jobs. The idea itself was amazing – not only because you could selfishly pretend that this holiday was romantic – if it wasn’t for the camp’s reputation of being as close to nature as possible. The cabin had electricity and warm water, but no internet or access to civilisation. Granted, there was the reception cabin with its restaurant, but it is five kilometres away from you behind a wall of thick forest and only reachable by a rocky road. If it wasn’t for Taehyung’s 4-wheel-drive jeep and his trusty snow chains, you most definitely would have gotten stuck already.

Taehyung called staying at this camp the perfect opportunity to forget capitalism and what it does to your nerves, you still call it a bad idea which will end in serial killer attacks.

The cabin is still chilly when you enter because there was no electrical heating installed, just one fireplace.

“I’m freezing my ass off”, you whine, rubbing your own arms to create warmth.

“Carry the bags to our rooms. I’m getting firewood from outside”, Taehyung says and disappears through the door.

It doesn’t take him long to return to you standing in the living room with a face of horror carved deeply into your features.

“What happened? Did you see a serial killer?” he jokes, carrying big logs of wood in his arms.

“So we might have a problem and don’t lose your shit, okay?”

“Okay?”

He squats down in front of the fireplace, stacking the wood neatly.

“There is only one bed.”

He stops in his movements for a moment. You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction. The movements continue.

“I know.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach before a million butterflies lift it again.

“What do you mean you know?”

“I booked the cabin, didn’t I?”

“Yeah well, but…huh? You knew?”

“Sure I did.” He uses his lighter to start the fire, bending down to blow into the small flame until it grows and starts gnawing on the first log. He stretches out his hands, rubbing them together to warm them.

When you stay silent, he stands up and turns.

“Why? Is this a problem? We shared a bed before.”

“Yeah, when we were teens at summer camp with my mom. That’s so different.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Yeah it is”, you throw back, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You have a weird way of hiding your massive crush on him. Whenever there is the slightest hint of blurring the lines, you pretend to be annoyed by the situation. It is childish, you are aware of it, but you also want to minimise damage as much as possible. If Taehyung would be the first to snuff out the delusions, it would ruin you. So you make sure to always kill whatever spark might form between you and him. This technique has helped you survive with your stupid feelings for him for more than eight years now.

You were twenty when you realised that the fondness you had for him was way more than just the fondness for a friend. You were twenty one when you realised that said fondness will never be reciprocated when he got a girlfriend and proceeded to date her for five years. Granted, you dated someone as well for three years of that, but your feelings for him never went away. You were twenty six when he broke up with his girlfriend and you started to have hopes again. You were barely twenty seven when you decided to keep your feelings to yourself and only stay his best friend, you were too scared to ruin what you had.

You are twenty eight now and your feelings for him are as strong as they could ever be and pretending that blurring the lines annoys you gets harder and harder by the day. But you have to. What if you are only imagining it? What if he doesn’t feel the same?

Taehyung scrunches his brows at your reaction, crossing his arms in front of his chest as well.

“I didn’t think that the bed would be such a bother to you. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll sleep on the couch”, he says and pouts.

Now That you don’t want.

“No, it’s just…I packed my ugliest PJs, it’s embarrassing.”

He scoffs, features softening.

“You’re so weird. As if I ever cared about the state of your sleepwear. Do you wanna start with dinner?”

You take a deep breath. The situation is saved. You made sure the lines stopped blurring and he wouldn’t be angry at you.

“Sure. I’m so down for ramen tonight.”

“Nice, me too. We could go searching for herbs in the forest. To elevate the taste.”

“No, you stay here. The last time you tried to cook with herbs from the forest, you had the shits for three days.”

“How could I forget? My asshole was so raw afterwards. I swear I thought that I shat out my insides at one point.”

“Nice. Thanks for that image”, you say sarcastically.

Taehyung laughs. You join him a second later, exchanging a sneaky glance with him. He is so beautiful without even trying. If only your morals were a little more twisted, you would kiss his stupid smile away. Taehyung breaks the eye contact, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he gets on his tiptoes to get a pot from the upper cupboard. Are your eyes deceiving you or did he gulp after he ended the eye contact?

No, don’t be ridiculous. You shake your feelings away and busy yourself with unloading the groceries you got for the week.

The next town was twelve kilometres away. You drove through it on your way to the camp. It consisted of one main road and straight lines of side roads. It had no town centre and every important shop was located along the main road. The townsfolk looked at you with grim eyes and tight lips as you rolled pass them. The clerk in the supermarket barely wanted to greet you, let alone wish you a safe journey. You called the town proof for serial killers while Taehyung called you ridiculous. You were joking of course, but it was fun to tease him a little. You liked when he threw back a witty remark.

You eat the ramen in front of the fire, sitting on a few cushions on the floor and with blankets draped over your shoulders. It is very warm and cozy and your initial distaste for the remote location was gone.

“It’s so quiet out here”, you say.

“Yeah, right?”

You and Taehyung have finished dinner by now, you have already washed the dishes and are now warming your feet by the fire, sitting next to each other. Your arms are almost touching.

Taehyung rolls his head back and closes his eyes. You study him. The fire shines onto his neck, you are so close that you can see his skin texture. You are so insane, but you swear that your tongue knows exactly how it would feel like to lick him there. He inhales deeply and exhales through his nose.

“I really needed this. Work’s been dragging me down.”

You break your eyes away from his neck, staring at the flames instead. You are such a dirty woman.

“I get you. I’m so glad that I announced my break months ago and I could say a big fat goodbye to the projects coming in this week.”

Taehyung chuckles, “so much for team comradery.”

“Yah”, you slap his stomach gently, “you know exactly how shitty Yunjin and Mina are when it comes to being good colleagues. At least the team knew that I would be gone two months prior unlike them who announce it a week prior.”

“I know, I was just teasing you. You’re cute when you whine.”

“Sorry?”

He smiles languidly and peels one eye open to look at you.

“Nothing”, he says and closes his eye again.

You gulp, tugging at the collar of your jumper. Your face is burning hotter than the fire. You swear that you actually felt your ovaries throb at his words. You are so shocked that you have no chance to pretend to be annoyed by the blurring of lines before Taehyung already talks again.

“Thinking about all the work I left behind is glorious, you’re right. God, I can’t wait to come back to work and have it all be done by the others.”

“Why are you allowed to be a shitty colleague, but I’m not?”

“You can be a shitty colleague, I fully support that. I don’t know why you’re still staying at this shit place anyway.”

“Because it’s hard finding something new. God, do we need to discuss this right now? I’ve already been stressing about my situation enough.”

“No of course not. Sorry” He rolls his head to the front and looks at you. “No more work talk. This week is supposed to be our detox. No phones, no internet, no work. Just you and I in this little cabin in the woods where nobody can hear us.”

“If you weren’t the person closest to me, this sentence would have sounded creepy as fuck.”

He chuckles, eyes glimmering in the shine of the fire. You grin, leaning in to nudge him with your arm.

“What should we do though? Now that nobody can hear us?”

His eyes flit to your lips. You saw it clearly. Your chest tightens, your airways close up. He runs his teeth over his lower lip then whispers his words.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

His eyes flit up, connecting with yours with such intensity that your vision blurs a little. Holy shit.

“You’re being fucking creepy. Stop messing with me”, you hiss in faux annoyance, pushing at his chest.

“What did I do?” he asks.

“You’re acting like a serial killer, it’s weird”, you lie, stumbling to your feet, “I’m taking a shower.”

“What if I follow you like in Bate’s Motel? You know, stabby-stabby with my huge knife into your bare back.”

Holy shit.

“Then I’m grabbing you by the balls and dragging your ass outside to sleep in the snow.”

He laughs and then you close the door to the bathroom.

Holy. Shit.

Things changed in the living room when you come back. Taehyung pushed the couch further away from the fire and made a circle with candles.

“What the hell are you up to now?”

He looks over his shoulder, scanning his eyes over your body.

“Cute PJs, I don’t know why you think they’re ugly.”

“The edges are frayed and I have a hole in my thigh part.”

“You can’t even see that. Come, sit next to me.”

You do so cross-legged.

“What are you doing? For real.”

“I’m making a summoning circle.”

“I’m sorry?”

He points at the book in front of him.

“Wait. You got the book? I mentioned it as a joke, you know?”

“Yeah, I got the book. Isn’t it cool? I followed the instructions just as described. We can finally talk to ghosts.”

One must know that you and Taehyung have an unhealthy obsession with the supernatural. If there is a new ghost hunting show, rest assured that you are watching it together. If there is a new book about the supernatural, rest assured that one of you will get a copy. One time you tried to go ghost hunting yourselves, but had to give up because you both got scared with the first sound and ran back to your car. The supernatural doesn’t scare you, only real humans do. Taehyung always says that bad ghosts are only bad ghosts because they were wronged by humans, which is another proof that the real evil are humans.

“Are you serious? Here?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“It’s our first night here. What if we summon an evil ghost?”

“Then we befriend them and help them find what they need.”

“You’re a dreamer if you think evil ghosts wanna be our friends.”

He pouts. He is so adorable that you give up with a chuckle.

“Fine, we can befriend evil ghosts, but if we can’t? We still have a week to go and I don’t wanna spend it fighting some evil entity.”

“No, but this spell is safe. Look, they call it the summoning of a helper. We can talk to a nice ghost.”

You read the page carefully. Taehyung was right. The spell sounded safe and besides, you were never successful in your endeavours. Of course you were a believer, but you were also a realist. Things like summoning ghosts or talking to them isn’t real. Taehyung seems so smitten by the idea however that you can’t say no to him.

“Fine, let’s do it.”

“Yay! I’m so happy!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“What do we have to do?”

“Hold hands and then say this sentence five times. Oh great helper we summon thee.”

“Sounds easy.” You intertwine hands with him. “Let’s do it.”

You and he hold hands and begin chanting. You keep holding hands after the chanting, staring at the candle circle. Nothing happens. You already expected it, but Taehyung seems devastated.

“Why is nothing happening?”

“Maybe we didn’t do it right.”

“Right. Let’s do it again.

“Tae no, I don’t-”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, beginning to chant a second time. You give up with a sigh and join him. As expected, nothing happens.

“I don’t get it. Something should happen”, he murmurs, flipping through the book.

“Well, we tried. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen.”

“No, let’s try it one more time please.”

“Tae, I don’t think-”

Yet again you aren’t allowed to finish your sentence, except that it wasn’t Taehyung who interrupted you this time around. The fireplace and the candles roar up in bright flames and heat. A blinding flash of light for just a second then the room is normal again. Except for the man sitting on a chair in the middle of the candle circle. He has a cup of tea against his lips, looking surprised as if he was dragged from where he was before.

You and Taehyung scream instantly, jumping to your feet and clutching each other.

The man screams back at you, but he does it mockingly.

“Aaah! I get it, I get it. Why are we screaming?” he calls over your voices.

“What the fuck just happened?!”

“Tae what did we do?!”

You and he turn to each other, holding hands.

“What the fuck?!” you yell at each other.

“Yeah, what the fuck?” the man agrees then snaps into his fingers, “are you done now? Cause I have a lot to say.”

You and Taehyung turn to him. He looks human except for his golden eyes and black horns. His hair is just as dark and his sculpted, big body is wrapped in black leather clothes and a black cape. He is wearing leather gloves and boots.

“You have no manners, going about summoning me and screaming at my face. Who do you think me to be?” the man? Ghost? Demon? scolds, wagging his finger.

“What, what, who are you?” Taehyung stutters, clutching your hands tightly.

“What, what, wha-”, he mocks him in a high pitched voice and then continues with sass, “I don’t know, you tell me. You were the ones who summoned me in the middle of my morning tea, you rude brats”, the stranger spits and lifts his cup, “do you think I’m available twenty four seven? Of course not, I have my working hours as well.”

“___ can you understand him too?” Taehyung whispers to you.

“Yeah, I can”, you whisper back.

“Well duh. Last time I checked, I can speak whatever language you mortals speak. Tch, you are more ill mannered than I thought you to be, fucking brats.”

You and Taehyung exchange a look. It is Taehyung who steps closer to the stranger, keeping you safe behind him.

“Be welcome oh good ghost. What can we call thee? How may we help thee cross into the afterlife?”

The stranger studies Taehyung’s features and bursts out a laughter with such enthusiasm that Taehyung’s hair moves from his breath. He should be disgusted by it, but something about the scent in his breath makes Taehyung feel dizzy and almost drawn to the stranger.

“Me a ghost? You amuse me, mortal. My name is Salaryoongilzus from and to Melzons, First of his Name and Devourer of Souls, but you can call me Yoongi for short.” He bows. “At your service.”

You step next to Taehyung.

“And what are you?”

“Guess.”

You pick up the book from the floor. Taehyung presses his head against yours as he reads the page with you.

“Taehyung”, you gasp and point at a small writing which suddenly appeared at the bottom of the page. “Demon. We summoned a demon.”

“A helper demon?”

“Look. A sex helper demon.”

Your heads snap up simultaneously, eyes widened and lips parted.

The demon Yoongi tips his imaginary hat, carrying a sly smirk on his lips.

“We summoned a succubus? How did that happen?”

The smirk drops from his lips. He points his finger at Taehyung.

“Rude brat, I’m an incubus. Succubus is for female sex demons, I’m an incubus, a male sex demon. Get your terminology straight.”

“An incubus?”

“Do I look like I have tits and a cunt to you?”

Taehyung studies him.

“Obviously I don’t. Go look at your girlfriend if you aren’t sure how such body parts look like.”

“No she isn’t my girlfriend.” “He isn’t my boyfriend.”

Yoongi, the incubus, blurts out laughter again, pointing his finger between you and Taehyung.

“Now this is interesting. You aren’t dating and yet you have so much sexual energy between you, it is as if you have been fucking for years.”

You and Taehyung exchange an awkward yet tension filled look. Somehow the room got hotter.

“Oh? Ohoho, this is really interesting.” Yoongi says and sits down on his chair. He crosses his legs and sips on his tea. “So you two are friends?”

“Best friends.”

“Best friends and you had feelings for each for how many years?”

It gets more and more difficult to exchange a look with Taehyung. It feels like your heart is beating out of your chest, beating even harder when you see how red his cheeks have become.

“You didn’t know?! Hah!” Yoongi slaps his own knee as he laughs, stomping his feet excitedly. “This is great. Best friends who have been pretending as if blurring the lines was a normal thing to do between friends. Tell me how many times have you jerked off to each other’s image?”

“Excuse me?” “I wouldn’t dare!”

Yoongi smirks knowingly. He takes a calm sip of his tea.

“Fine”, he says and stands up. “You convinced me to stay. Cases like yours are too nourishing to miss out on. Couples, you see, have weak sexual energies to feast on. Only a few are delicious after years together, but most produce bitter energies. They tired each other out and summon me for help in fixing their sex life and I have to make do with what shitty energies they still have left. But best friends? Best friends who have been dreaming of fucking each other for years? Now that is the kind of energy I fucking love”, he says and licks over his lips. His tongue is split like that of a snake and behind his pouty lips, a set of fangs is glimmering in the lights.

“But…” you begin and look at Taehyung. He can’t look at you, breathing heavier than he normally does. You are panting as well, but know that whatever is happening to you and him is the influence of the sex demon. You wave your hands at him as if he was an insect you tried to swat away. “Shoo, go away.”

He chuckles, “adorable.”

“We don’t need your help. Shoo.”

“Yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have summoned me.”

“Well, it was an accident.”

“Nope, it wasn’t.”

“Yes! It was. We don’t need help from a sex demon.”

“Too bad, I’m not leaving. A deal’s a fucking deal, even if I wanted to leave I can’t unless I fucked both of you to satisfaction.”

“What? But we didn’t ask for that.”

“Honey, you summoned a helper and I was the one being summoned. You know what that means, don’t you?” The demon steps closer to you. So close in fact that you get dizzy from his sweetened breath and feel weak from his intense stare.

You barely shake your head, feeling hot between your legs.

“It means the one thing you both needed help with the most, was sex. Or lack thereof in your sad case. If you needed help gardening, a little gardening helper would have appeared. If you needed help killing someone, an assassin demon would have appeared. But instead I’m here now. An incubus, the goddamn personification of sex.” He reaches out and brushes the back of his hand down your cheek.

You whimper, knees buckling.

“Deny it all you want, but you two are long due for a good fucking.”

You moan, taking a step closer as you chase his kiss.

“___”, Taehyung stops you from crossing the candle circle, pulling you back to him, “don’t go to him. Who knows what he will do to you.”

Yoongi lifts his hands in defeat, “don’t worry, I’m a good boy. You know, centuries ago we were, let’s say, a little more free in how we took humans. But you know, modernisation and human rights and being civil beings, blah blah blah, basically means that we can now only do what the human subconsciously consents to.” He rolls his eyes. “One gets a new boss one time and the entire system is renewed. You should have been there when the reforms happened. There was so much bloodshed”, he laughs, “but oh well, rules are rules. If you aren’t secretly craving for something, I can’t do it to you. Deal is a deal.”

“Okay?” Taehyung cocks his brow up.

Yoongi sits down and sips on his tea.

“You don’t believe me? Go ask your girlfriend. She’s been leaking into her little pants ever since your little feelings came to light.”

“Huh?” “No, I’m not!”

Taehyung gawks at you. You meet his eyes, feeling hot in embarrassment.

“I’m not!” you insist.

Yoongi chuckles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m not!” You wave your hands again. “Shoo, the holy word compels you, leave. Whatever that holy word may be for you.”

“Religion isn’t going to work on me, doll. Humans made it up to pretend as if they were better than others and to have an excuse to greedily take money from the helpless in the name of their gods. I’m staying and you are getting fucked.”

“___, battle plan”, Taehyung says and takes your hand to drag you to the bedroom.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere”, Yoongi singsongs, sipping his tea afterwards. He leans further into his chair, sighing in relaxation.

Taehyung closes the door and locks it. He turns to you with his folded hands in front of his lips. A second later, he uses them to point at you.

“So we may have fucked up.”

“Well duh, we did! There is a bloody incubus in our living room! That’s what you get from experimenting”, you exclaim and push at his chest.

“What I get? Excuse me? You were in on the plan!"

“Yes, because I thought that it would be a scam! Summoning of ghosts isn’t real! It never was.”

“How dare you”, he gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls.

“I said what I said.”

He pouts and crosses his arms. You huff out air, mirroring his stance. You share a moment of intense silence, both suddenly reliving what the demon told you. You fluster at the same time, breaking eye contact.

Taehyung is the first to be brave enough to speak up.

“Fact is, we have an incubus in our living room and he won’t leave until he fucked us.”

“I know, that’s insane Tae.”

“It is, but we won’t get him away any other way.”

“You’re not actually suggesting we take his offer?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I mean, why not? It’s not like he was that wrong. We haven’t been laid in a long time.”

“Speak for yourself, mister.”

“Well, did you?” he challenges with a cock of his brow.

“No”, you mumble and lower your head in defeat.

“See? We take the deal, get it over with and he leaves. Done. And then we burn the book and never speak of tonight again.”

What he says makes sense. It’s insane, but it makes sense.

“Fine.” You give in. “How are we doing this? Taking turns in the bedroom while the other waits outside?”

“Or we could…” he looks at your lips.

“You’re joking”, you gasp, feeling drawn to him.

Taehyung smiles awkwardly and rubs his neck nervously.

“I mean, was he that off?”

“No, I mean yes, I mean no. I mean, I don’t know.”

Taehyung steps closer and takes your hands. Your breath hitches, your skin tingles. He caresses your knuckles.

“He wasn’t off as far as I’m concerned”, he confesses in a soft voice, eyes racing between yours.

“Tae, holy fuck this is…”

“...insane? Yeah, but also freeing. I’ve been carrying these feelings with me for years and I swear I wanted to use this holiday to finally confess to you. Granted, I wanted to take you on a star watching walk and confess to you under the moon, but I guess accidentally summoning a sex demon who discovers our secret is more our style.”

You laugh. He laughs with you. It sheds both of you of so much nervous weight on your shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess it is”, you agree.

A moment of silence. Taehyung closes the distance, stubbing your nose with his. You sigh and close your eyes, lips parting as you chase his kiss. Taehyung, who understood the signal, takes it and kisses you.

Not one second is wasted before you and he find your rhythm and your hands melt deep into the other’s softness. It isn’t long after that the kiss becomes heated. Perhaps it is the influence of the sex demon or the sheer attraction to each other, but you begin moaning and groping each other hungrily.

“Stop wait, stop”, you break it.

Taehyung whimpers softly, chasing your kiss as his big hands knead your buttocks.

“Don’t stop this please. I dreamed of this for years, please”, he begs, lips brushing your cheek as he seeks your kiss.

“Tae, the incubus.”

“Right. We should probably see if he’s still there.”

Despite not wanting to, you break the moment for the sake of getting rid of your living room problem. You hold hands, opening the bedroom door together. You peak out.

“Hello”, Yoongi coos, wiggling his fingers.

“Shit”, the door slams close. You and Taehyung exchange a look. “Tae fuck, this is actually happening.”

“I guess it is.”

“This is insane.”

“It is.”

“Okay, I’m doing it.”

Taehyung hugs your arm, “do it.”

You and he open the door and enter the living room.

“Rude. Slamming doors isn’t very civil of you”, Yoongi says, studying the way Taehyung clutches you. The scent of your sexual energies became stronger ever since you were in the bedroom. He can’t wait to feast on it.

You and Taehyung stand in front of the demon, buffing your chests to appear stronger.

“If we do this, can you promise us to leave afterwards?”

“Demons don’t make promises, but a deal is a deal. Yes I will leave afterwards. Are we done now? I could have made myself another cup of tea in the time you two brats were talking. I’m bored.”

“Give us a moment”, Taehyung says and turns to you. He takes your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“Tae”, you whisper, gazing into his eyes.

“Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes, I do. You?”

“I do, yeah. Just…” he cradles your face. “...whatever happens, I love you.”

“I love you too, Tae. I have loved you since-”

“Yeah, yeah we get it. You two are so in love. Shut up and let’s get to fucking. I’m not here to listen to you yap to each other about feelings.”

You click your tongue in annoyance, turning to the demon. Taehyung does the same.

“First Mister Yoongi from and to something”, you say, snapping your fingers, “you’re rude and impatient. And second of all, if we agree to your deal, are you going to destroy our souls?”

Yoongi smirks in amusement, “you’re a feisty one, I like you already.”

“Answer my question.”

Yoongi lifts his hands in defeat, “fine. No, I am not going to destroy your souls. As I said before, I will be feasting on the sexual energies you are creating. It will be painless, unless you want it to hurt”, he explains and flashes his fangs playfully.

You gulp, taking a step back. You look at Taehyung.

“Dude, he’s, like, really doing it to me. The fangs thing was hot”, you tell him.

“I know, right?”

Yoongi chuckles, “you flatter me.”

It is Taehyung who speaks up next, “if you eat our sexual energies, does it mean that we won’t have any left for the future?”

“Mortals and their endless questions”, Yoongi says under his breath, massaging the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. He takes a deep breath and talks with annoyance in his deep voice, “no this will not happen. Don’t be stupid.”

Taehyung pouts, glancing at you.

“He wasn’t being hot to me, did you see that?”

“Yeah, rude.”

“I can be hot if you want me to”, Yoongi says and grabs Taehyung by the wrist to drag him close.

Taehyung stumbles with a surprised squeak, moaning a second later when Yoongi drags his split tongue up the side of his neck. Taehyung presses his legs together, twisting Yoongi’s shirt.

You gulp. This is so hot to look at, but also, you need to save Taehyung.

“Hey, leave him. We didn’t say yes to the deal yet”, you spit and drag Taehyung out of the demon’s claws.

Taehyung stumbles, colliding with your body, weakened and dizzy. He drops his head on your shoulder, panting heavily.

Yoongi studies him with a knowing smirk.

“For the sake of your friend, say yes. I don’t think he can take a lot more.”

“Tae, are you okay?”

“I need sex, ___, I’m”, he presses his lips to your neck, kissing it sloppily. “Holy fuck, I want you. Holy fuck, I…”

“Tae...” you mewl, eyes threatening to close and skin tingling like crazy. You wanted this for years. It feels so good.

“Hey! Stop that, I’m still here!” Yoongi snaps you out of it in a sharp voice.

You and Taehyung look at him.

“Should we?”

“I think we should.”

“Fine”, you say, “we will agree to the terms we just discussed.”

The flames flicker aggressively, somewhere far away, a bell tolls. Yoongi smiles triumphantly and claps into his hands.

“The deal has been made. Wonderful. Let’s get started.”

“So how are we going to do this?”

“You are going to listen to me. I will tell you what to do.”

“And if we do and we’re done, you’ll leave?”

“Promise”, Yoongi says and smiles wickedly.

“Fine. Then let’s get this over with”, you say and squeeze Taehyung’s hand.

“Wonderful.” Yoongi claps into his hands. “First things first, you two are too clothed. Get naked and let me see what I have to work with”, he says, busy with taking off his gloves. He throws them over the chair, stretching out his fingers.

You and Taehyung exchange a shy look. You never saw each other naked before. You saw each other in swimwear but that’s it.

“The time to be shy has passed. Get naked before I rip it off of you”, Yoongi orders sharply.

“I love you, yeah?” Taehyung says.

“I love you too.”

“I guess, this is happening.”

“Turn around, let’s do it like that.”

You and he turn your backs to each other and start to undress.

“Mortals are fascinating. You are about to get fucked and yet you are still shy.”

“Shut up.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I like you. You’re exciting.”

“Tch whatever. I’m naked, Tae. You?”

“Me too.”

“I’m turning.”

“Okay. Three, two, one.”

You and Taehyung gasp, eyes widening in awe. This is him. Naked and turned on. This is you. Naked and turned on.

“Holy fuck Tae, you’re so handsome. I…” your eyes trail off to his cock. “Damn this is…wow.”

“You’re so beautiful too. I can’t believe you’re real”, he says, eyes flitting between your tits and your pussy. “You are the most beautiful woman to ever exist.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do. I-”

“We get it, you’re in love. Fucking hell, mortals are so emotional”, Yoongi says and steps out of the candle circle.

“You can do that?”

“Well duh, you made a deal”, he dismisses you and presses himself between you and Taehyung. “Now let’s see.”

He turns to you first.

"Stay still.”

He touches your tits, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. His palms are so soft and warm, his hands are human but big. So big and masculine. His fingers are so long, currently pinching and rubbing your nipples.

You can only handle it by grabbing his lower arms and whimpering softly. They are strong and muscular, his body is so warm. You feel dizzy.

“A good pair of tits. Turn.” He says and does it for you.

He touches your back and arms. Each second turns you on more and more to the point where you can barely stand up.

“Pretty back. I bet your little friend fantasised about cumming on it a dozen times before.”

“Ah..”

“Mhm, you liked that, didn’t you? Such a needy girl”, Yoongi taunts and grabs your hip. He puts his other hand on your head and pushes you down until you are bent over.

“Ah geez, warn me. I didn’t stretch.”

“Too bad”, Yoongi says and falls to his knees, now eye to eye with your ass. He spreads it, making you mewl in embarrassment because you know for a fact that Taehyung looks as well.

You know because he moaned softly when Yoongi revealed you.

“Pretty hole, but not virgin. Not done by a real cock though. Dirty girl, do you like stuffing toys up your hole?” Yoongi coos.

“I uhm”, you begin writhing, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t flee, I’m not done”, Yoongi orders and sticks out his tongue to drag it over your hole.

“Ah, oh god”, you get out, falling to your knees because it felt too good.

Yoongi sees no problem in it, grabbing your hips to pull you into a doggy position. You are more exposed like this, mewling into the floor.

“Such a pretty hole and a pretty cunt to go with it”, he rasps, tracing every inch of it with his long fingers. “So wet.” He licks his fingers. “So sweet”, he growls, sending shivers through you.

“Please”, you beg, pushing your hips closer to him.

“Good. Done.” Yoongi however abandons you, standing up and turning to Taehyung.

With wobbly knees you turn as well, kneeling as you look up at them. Yoongi is a lot taller than Taehyung, commanding the room without having to try.

Taehyung looked at you first, but changes it when Yoongi touches his pecs. He looks up at him, panting nervously and making puppy eyes at him.

“Now you. I heard the disgusting things you were thinking as I examined her. You’re a dirty one, aren’t you?”

Taehyung gulps.

“Yes you are, but also a pretty one. Good pecs with pretty nipples”, Yoongi says as he rubs them. “Tongue out.”

Taehyung obeys.

Yoongi inspects it and hums.

“Good. Back in.”

Taehyung obeys. Yoongi runs his hands down his torso and grabs his cock.

Taehyung moans, thrusting into his touch and grabbing bundles of his shirt.

“You have an impressive cock for a human. It may rival that of a demon.”

“Ah, please.”

Yoongi squeezes his tip until it leaks, picks it up and licks it.

“Sweet. Both of you. How pleasing. Turn”, he says and does it for Taehyung.

The latter falls to his knees all on his own, getting into doggy position with his ass stuck high into the air.

“Holy shit”, you get out under your breath, eyes glued to his exposed hole. The view gets denied of you very soon when Yoongi kneels down and therefore shields you from it. You scoot to the side, greedily wanting more.

“Someone seems to be willing. Pretty hole and would you look at that? Not virgin either.”

Your pussy throbs. Taehyung looks at you with submissive puppy eyes, fingers trying to grasp you. You reach out, hooking your fingers with him. He holds you so desperately, turning you on with it.

“Not done by a human either. Look at that, you and ___ can share toys from now on”, Yoongi says and bends down to lick his hole.

Taehyung moans with such utter and raw pleasure that you feel dizzy. Even his eyes go out of focus and cross a little. He looks as if he wanted this exact thing done to him for years, as if he was just waiting for someone to lick his hole. He presses back, smothering Yoongi with his ass this way.

He chuckles and breaks away, split tongue dripping saliva.

“Someone is very eager. How interesting.”

He stands up, leaving Taehyung in his agony.

“Get up, the both of you. I’m done with my examination. I know exactly what to do to you.”

You manage to get up quicker. Taehyung is still too wobbly to do so, only managing to get to his knees.

“That will have to do. Mortals are so weak”, Yoongi says and sits down on his chair. He spreads his legs in a commanding, masculine way, shifting his eyes to you. “Come here, pretty girl.”

You obey his command without hesitation. His spit is still sticking to you and has been gradually ruining you more and more. You feel enchanted, wanting to obey whatever command he has for you.

“Sit”, he orders, patting his thigh.

You obey.

“Nono, so you can face him.”

“Sorry, yes”, you correct the position.

Yoongi grabs your hips and pulls you down the last few inches. You moan loudly at the first contact, back arching and fingers digging into his sculpted thigh. The leather is so rough against your sensitive pussy, his hands are paradise as they hold your hips.

“Move.”

You obey his orders, legs trembling as fiery pleasure courses through you.

“Good girl. Now, you are going to touch yourself to the view of her.”

“What?” Taehyung croaks, eyes glued to your body and how it moves on Yoongi’s thigh. Your breasts looks so ravishing like this. Taehyung craves a taste of them.

“You heard me. Show her what you were doing whenever you jerked off to her.”

“But I-”

“Don’t try to deny it. I know you lied. You touched yourself to her too many times to count “

“Tae”, you whimper, meeting his eyes.

You look so blissed out, so shaken by pleasure. Taehyung draws closer, reaching out to cup your cheek. You lean into his touch, trembling on Yoongi’s thigh.

“Tae…”

“I’m sorry, he’s right. I just-”

“Less words, more actions. Fucking touch yourself before I decide to force you”, Yoongi spits.

“Do as he says Tae, please”, you breathe, holding his cheeks, “please do it for me, please.”

“___”, Taehyung moans, chasing you. Your lips are almost touching, you share the same air. He is looking at your mouth, right hand dropping to his cock.

You moan with him as he begins touching himself. Your hips stutter on Yoongi’s thigh, your pussy throbs and leaks. Yoongi basks in the view with a dirty smirk, massaging your hips and waist with his strong, masculine hands.

“She likes this, pretty boy. Her cunt is so wet on my thigh. Keep touching yourself”, he purrs.

Taehyung croaks your name, lips claiming yours in a kiss. He can’t bear it any other way. Yoongi was right. Taehyung jerked off to the fantasy of you too many times to count. He really, really tried not to, but his mind betrayed him sometimes. He touched himself, thinking about how it would be to kiss you, to touch you and be touched in return, to experience pleasure with you and be with you naked.

He has all of it right now and Taehyung is in heaven. He pumps his cock very slowly, despite wanting to go fast. He has to go slow however, otherwise he would climax way too soon. This is his dream and it excites him way too much.

You break the kiss, overwhelmed by your own heaven. Your foreheads rest together, it hasn't been long but you are both a little sweaty already.

“Tae, this is…”

“I know, it is…heaven, you’re heaven.”

“No, you are. Ah Tae, your cock.”

Taehyung looks down at what you see, moaning deeply. His cock is flushed and hardened, leaking onto his long fingers as he massages it quickly.

“You’re so sexy, oh god, Tae your cock is so sexy”, you mewl, sliding your hands to his hair to twist bundles of it.

“Ah, I can’t”, Taehyung gasps, having to stop. “When you’re watching me, I just. I can’t handle it.”

“Your cock is throbbing.”

“___ please, you’re not making it easier”, Taehyung laughs breathily.

You straighten up, looking over your shoulder. Yoongi locks eyes with you. Dark marks have appeared on his features, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. This must be the sign that he is feeding on your energies.

“What do you want, pretty girl?” he asks in a terribly seductive voice.

“Help him last longer, please.”

Yoongi smirks. He snaps his fingers, letting a bottle of lube appear out of a cloud of red smoke. He throws it at Taehyung, who catches it.

“She wanted help. this is it. Get on your knees and show her how you fuck your own asshole. Don’t touch your cock unless I tell you to.”

You shake on Yoongi’s thigh, giving him needy puppy eyes. He purrs, smiling darkly. He inches closer to you, inhaling through his mouth with deep rumbles in his chest. They aren’t human, clearly signs of your delicious pleasure coursing through him.

“Don’t waste time. Just the mention of it makes her taste heavenly.”

“Yoongi”, you mewl, writhing in embarrassment. He purrs and holds your hips to guide them for now.

“Be a good girl and look at him. I know you want to.”

You obey his order gladly. The view which meets you there almost makes you regret turning around. Not because it is awful, but because it is so sexy that you have to lift your hips in order not to orgasm. Yoongi supports you, panting heavily from the sweet scents meeting his nose. So delicious, you taste so delicious. Your cunt keeps dripping on him. How delicious.

Taehyung is already kneeling, sticking his ass into the air and having two fingers buried inside. He pumps them in and out in a smooth rhythm, whimpering softly each time he bottoms out.

Not in your wildest dreams could you have ever imagined that this view would be your reality one day. His fingers are long and skinny, but seem so thick in his hole. He is tanner around his rim than the rest of his body, but whenever he pulls his digits out and his hole moves around them, pink skin is revealed.

“Holy fuck, Tae”, you get out, dropping on Yoongi’s thigh to get off to the view. You dig your nails into his leather pants, face scrunching in bliss. Each movement is electric, reaching every inch of your body. “Holy fuck, you are so hot. Baby, does this feel good?”

“Yes, feels so good”, Taehyung whimpers, voice surprisingly high-pitched for his normally baritone timbre.

“Keep doing that, you’re doing so good.”

Taehyung mewls your name, ass pressing back onto his fingers. This is everything he ever wished for. He spills tears onto the rug, curling his toes. This is his dream.

You suddenly feel lips on your shoulder and strong hands cradling your tits. Shivering, you lean into Yoongi, closing your eyes halfway.

“You’ve got a dominant side in you, don’t you? Good girl, you struck me as someone like that from the very beginning”, he rasps, rubbing your nipples slowly.

“Fuck”, you croak, leaning back into him. You can’t really grind on him like this, but it is for the best. You would orgasm way too soon if you kept going. His magic touch and the view of Taehyung are simply too powerful of a combination.

Yoongi purrs, letting you rest against his big, muscular body. He loves how small you are on his lap. Humans are so tiny and fragile in comparison to demons. Yoongi really gets off to the size imbalance, especially when it’s such a delicious feed as you and Taehyung.

He wraps his strong arm around you, tracing your stomach and playing with your pubes while his other hand plays with your tits.

“Do you like this, pretty girl?” he asks you in a purr.

“So much. Every touch…”

“Turns you on more. I know, that’s what I do to you”, he rasps and shifts his eyes to Taehyung. “I'll let you in on one of his little secrets, yeah?” he whispers.

You nod your head.

“Go ahead, Taehyung. Play with your cock.”

“Fuck. Yes”, Taehyung gets out and pulls his fingers free. His hole gapes slightly, looking so empty.

Taehyung closes his lubed up fingers around his balls, spreading it on them messily. Once he is happy with the feel of it, he takes them and does the unthinkable thing of putting them up his own ass.

“What the fuck?” you get out.

“___”, Taehyung moans, pushing in the second one as well. He seems to struggle at first before his fragile hole gives up and takes it. The skin of his balls is stretched, his rim is pulsing and his hips are pushing back.

“What the fuck? Taehyung you- oh my god, holy fuck.”

“Isn’t this marvellous? This isn’t the first time he stuffs his own balls up his asshole. He thought about it for minutes. What does this do to you, pretty girl?” Yoongi taunts.

“I have to cum”, you croak, spilling tears.

“She has to cum. Do you hear that, pretty boy? Your little self fuck is making your best friend cum.”

“___”, Taehyung moans, jerking off his cock as his balls get squeezed in his tight, pulsing ass. The sensations are orgasmic, making his legs shake and head turn.

“Taehyung”, you whimper, legs shaking as well and head dizzy beyond repair. Yoongi slides his fingers to your clit and rubs it. You squeal, arching your back. This was too much. He breaks you for the first time this evening.

“Good girl, scream for me. Good girl”, Yoongi talks you through it, head pounding from the intense feed. How sweet your orgasm tastes, how much it nourishes him. He feels greedy for more. He will make you orgasm again. He just decided. He cannot miss out on more of this power.

Taehyung begins begging as he realises what happens.

“Please I have to cum too. Please can I cum please?”

“Tell us what you fantasize about most and I’ll let you cum.”

“Eating her out! Please, I have to cum please”, Taehyung blurts out, arching his back.

You sob softly, twitching on Yoongi’s thigh. Your orgasm died down but nothing changed. Yoongi works his magic on you and you are his sexual prisoner. You don’t feel any ounce of satisfaction from your high, on the contrary, you want another one and another one and, and, and. Please.

“Can you see that? She likes it. Mhm pretty girl, do you like that?”

“Yes, like it please.”

“Good”, Yoongi stands up with you in his arms. He denies you of another orgasm like this, ignoring the whines you let out for the sake of lying you down on the floor.

Taehyung watches it happen, hand still around his cock because he is confused. He tugs his balls out of his hole, eyes glued to your body as it gets shoved around by Yoongi.

Yoongi grabs your legs, spreading them forcefully. He purrs, eyes flickering at the view of your wet cunt.

“Do it. Show her what you want to do most.”

Taehyung obeys, scrambling to your side. He exchanges places with Yoongi and gets on all fours.

“I just…this is a dream”, he says, gazing at your puffy, wet lips. You are so turned on that the normally translucent excitement almost took on a slight white and creamy texture to it. Taehyung wants to taste every droplet of it.

“Tae please”, you whimper, opening your legs further.

“I will treat you so right from now on, my baby. Holy fuck”, he croaks and lowers himself to your cunt.

“Tae!” You scream up, arching your back and gripping his hair. It is ridiculous but you orgasm with the first lick.

Taehyung wants to stop and look, but Yoongi doesn’t let him. He places his hand over yours and pushes his head down.

“Don’t slack”, he orders, voice dark and demonic from the feed he is experiencing. “Keep fucking going no matter what.”

Taehyung mewls, spilling tears. He wraps his arms around your thighs, hands rubbing your sides, and obeys Yoongi’s orders. He uses his entire mouth to please you, tongue kissing your pulsing cunt as if it was his life’s purpose to do so. And right now it was.

He dreamt about giving you head so many times that he stopped counting. Sometimes when you were at his place and you watched a movie with your legs on his couch, he imagined how it would be like to lie down between them and pleasure you as you watched the movie. He fantasised about warming your clit with his mouth, fantasised tongue fucking your hole, fantasised about tasting every inch of you.

And now it is his reality and he loves it so much that he tears up. Your thighs are shaking, your hips keep bucking up and your fingers twist his hair. You also taste like heaven. Sweet, intense, perfect. Taehyung slurps and gurgles, drinking your heavenly nectar with deep moans and happy mewls.

“This feels so good, oh god”, you get out between having to moan and having to gasp for air.

It has been a while since you felt a mouth on your pussy. Casual sex just didn’t do it for you and so you stopped seeking it. So this right now is your paradise. Out of all the things, you missed getting head the most. Getting head from Taehyung? The very reason why you currently exists.

His lips are soft and warm, rubbing over your sensitive spots as much as they suck on them. His tongue is even softer and warmer and so fucking wet, tracing your pussy and licking every single inch. He uses the flat of it as he worships your lips and uses the tip of it as he fucks your hole. For your clit, he uses a mixture of his tip and the flat of it, following it up with a suck and purrs around it.

Now that you had this first exciting orgasm behind you, you can really savour every second of it. Granted, it is still insanely difficult not to climax again.

“Tae, I love this so much, Tae”, you moan, floating on bliss.

Taehyung mewls, looking up at you. Your head is rolled to the side, giving him a view of your blissed out expression. Your eyes are closed, your lips are parted, your brows tightened.

“He thinks that you’re beautiful right now”, Yoongi tells you.

Taehyung mewls in agreement, nodding his head.

“Tae”, you whimper, writhing in pleasure. Your pussy throbs in his mouth, feeding him more of your sweet nectar.

“She wants you to play with her tits.”

Taehyung obeys, reaching up to cradle your breasts and massage them.

“Ah!” you arch your back, hands slipping from his hair to instead drop next to your head and ball to fists.

Taehyung moans, having to close his eyes. This is too exciting. Your soft breasts are like heaven in his hands. He massages them as gently as possible, moving especially tenderly around your nipples.

You react in throbs of your pussy and arches of your back, moaning so sweetly he feels high on you.

“Good boy, keep doing that”, Yoongi praises, giving his back a kiss before he abandons his side to fulfil his wish.

Taehyung has been thinking it so loudly that Yoongi almost smacked the back of his head. He opens his pants and pulls it down far enough so his heavy cock would be free. He prepares it with a thick layer of lube.

“For the future, you don’t have to scream your fantasies at me. I can hear you just right”, he hisses and punishes him by pushing his cock into his tight hole. Not that this is a real punishment, this is exactly what Taehyung wanted.

The latter falls forward, moaning into your pussy with such enthusiasm that you have to lift your head to check.

“Holy fuck”, you croak, gawking in disbelief.

Taehyung’s neck is bend in a weird way as his face is smothered in your pussy. His hips are held up by Yoongi forcing him to keep kneeling as he very clearly drills his cock into his ass.

He smiles at you darkly, flashing you his fangs this way. Taehyung shakes and writhes with each thrust, bruising your breasts accidentally from needing to hold something. He mewls so much, mouth sucking on your clit more than he does anything else. As if he needs to soothe himself.

“Are you-”

“-hurting him? Of course not, pretty girl. I can make myself fit in the tightest hole without pain.”

“Are you using magic?”

“What do you think?” he asks and pulls Taehyung’s up by his hair. His back arches, you get a view of his messy face and the utter bliss on it. He thrusts into him, forcing a scream out of him. “Does this look like he is in pain?” Yoongi taunts, making Taehyung scream with each hard thrust.

“No”, you whimper, trying to rub your legs together for stimulation.

Yoongi notices, smiling darkly.

“Good girl, you don’t have to scream your thoughts to get them heard”, he says and picks up Taehyung easily. He never stops bouncing him on his cock even as he changes position. He falls down next to you, lifting Taehyung off his cock to turn him.

“Yoongi, your cock”, you gasp.

It is long and thick and looks more like a big butt toy than a real cock. He has five engorged segments going from small to huge.

“I’m simply shaping it to how he wants it to feel. Seems like your pretty friend wants to be fucked by a huge textured cock”, Yoongi rasps and sinks Taehyung down on it.

It is insane how easily he takes his massive cock. One by one the swollen segments disappear in Taehyung and he seems to moan louder and louder with each. Once Yoongi bottoms out, you swear that Taehyung seems as if he reached enlightenment. His eyes are rolled back, his head tilted and his mouth agape. Yoongi helps him stay in this state by lifting and sinking his body, fucking him like this. It forces his cock to bounce and slap his own tummy repeatedly, spreading the wet mess he leaks everywhere.

“Do you like this? Do you like seeing him like this?” Yoongi rasps, looking at you.

You are so close like this that you can smell his sweet breath. He is actually so beautiful for a demon. His features are so delicate and pretty and insanely addicting to look at.

“I like it so much.”

“Mhm, you’re such a pretty girl”, Yoongi rasps, “go ahead, I heard your wish.”

“Thank you, oh god”, you croak and scramble to your knees.

“Although, being called someone with a pretty face is a new for me”, Yoongi chuckles, fixing his head so you can sit on his face.

You mewl in acknowledgement, gasping a second later when Yoongi pulls you down on his long tongue. You look at where he holds you, moaning in surprise when two pairs of arms greet you. One pair is busy bouncing Taehyung on his cock, while the other is busy holding you down on his face.

“Holy fuck.”

Yoongi chuckles knowingly, scrambling your thoughts a second later with his tongue.

You scream up, matching Taehyung’s volume. The next moments are unable to be brought onto paper because they are unable to stay in your minds anyway. All you and Taehyung know is that you feel pleasure like you have never felt before. It is normally easy to talk during sex, even in the most passionate of scenes, but as you share Yoongi, you truly can't talk. The only thing wanting to leave your throats are screams and moans and sobs. Neither of you has experienced such pleasure before and soon you find yourselves holding each other as Yoongi ruins you from below.

You swear that you already orgasmed twice on his tongue and you can’t stop doing it. He is a lot hotter than Taehyung and so much wetter. His spit is clearly magical, seeping deep into your skin and making you feel as if you are high. He also seems to be everywhere at once. You feel him on your clit, your lips, your hole, your g-spot and even tickling your cervix. And it happens at the same time, constantly. It feels so good that you almost want to flee and yet you can’t because you crave more and more and more of his touch.

Taehyung feels just as ruined. From the moment Yoongi entered him, he lost all control over his body. He is so huge and long and yet doesn’t hurt. Not even when he forcefully claimed his small hole, did he hurt. He felt like heaven from the very beginning and this heaven seems to grow more and more the longer he bounces him on his cock. Taehyung doesn’t know how many times he already orgasmed, but he can’t stop. He is so filled up, so stretched out, so fucked. Each of Yoongi’s swollen segments stuffs him more and increases the pleasure. His prostate stopped being the only sensitive part as Yoongi’s leaking slit spreads his magical juice on his walls and turns them as sensitive as his prostate. Perhaps even more sensitive. Taehyung truly feels his textured cock everywhere and he swears he might never recover.

“Yoongi, I have to- I think I have to- to pee”, you finally get out, digging your nails into Taehyung’s back as you hold him close.

“Me too! Me too!” Taehyung screams into your shoulder, shaking uncontrollably.

Yoongi merely growls and holds you tighter, forcing you and Taehyung to orgasm so hard that you piss yourselves. Yoongi shoots his heavy load up Taehyung’s ass from the sweet taste of your combined sexual energies, growling into your cunt demonically.

He knows from the way you and Taehyung writhe afterwards that his job is complete. You are pleased beyond repair. He lifts you and Taehyung off of him and carries you to the couch. He lies you down in a way so that your leaking holes would drip on the floor and not the cushions. You are both gaping, although Taehyung definitely takes the crown. The view pleases Yoongi a great deal. He did a good job.

“Breathe and hold each other until you feel better.”

You and Taehyung cuddle each other, shivering in a good way. It feels so good to be with each other after such intense sex.

Yoongi pets your heads, using all four hands for it.

“You both did well.”

He straightens up, crossing his four arms in front of his big chest. He snaps his fingers, making a table of food and water appear.

“Try to hydrate and eat something once you can move again. Talk about tonight, I heard it helps mortals bond.”

You and Taehyung mewl softly, drooling on each other. Yoongi studies the ruined states of you.

“I did good. I was thorough”, he says and nods his head, “my job here is done. I won’t ask you if you liked it because I know you did.”

He turns his back to you and walks to the candle circle.

“You will feel stronger and healthier in the days to come because I filled you with my nectar. Use it to fuck each other, it will feel better to you. Or don’t fuck and talk, mortals are so emotional how disgusting. Just fuck, seriously, it’s more fun.”

He steps inside the circle.

“Yoongi”, you croak, eyes barely wanting to open.

He looks over his shoulder, “yes, pretty girl?”

“Can we see you again?”

He smiles wickedly. The candles burn brightly, somewhere far away a bell tolls. His wicked smile grows.

“In your dreams”, Yoongi hisses and disappears.

You and Taehyung both know that this wasn’t meant as an insult, but a promise. You just made a deal with the fucking devil.

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