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#so you're getting descriptions of my thoughts about the images
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Liveblogging Man Suang
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First things first - outrage at Not-Mile who dares put his hands on Apo. Who the fuck do you think you- oh good, he's dead. Though, this is obviously something Khem expects and is used to. The touching, not the murder.
Wan, leave that knife in. Wan, don't take that knife out. Okaaaay, he took the knife out. Khem, at least don't be holding the murder weapon when- *sigh* never mind. Jesus fuck, Khem and Wan are not the sharpest crayons in the box, are they?
"You were caught red handed next to my nephew's body!" Only literally! I mean, technically correct. And in this instance, not the best kind of correct. :(
I love the costuming
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Ohh hellooooo. Also, girrrl what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament?
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You met him thirty seconds ago and you're already showing him your pussy? Chatra, you slut.
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Hey. HEY! Lord Not-Chatra. Stop looking at him like that. I swear, Khem is to higher-social-standing men like Will Graham is to serial killers. Where's the Chesapeake Chatra when you need him?
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Montage time!
Khem. Sweetie. Honey. You need to be more subtle if you're going to be a spy....
Apo is so pretty when he cries. 😭
YEAH YOU TELL HIM KHEM! Calling out the double standards! Also, that dude is totes jealous he didn't catch Lord Not-Chatra's attention...
Chatra gives you one warning and then it's a FIST TO THE FACE.
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Are they on a date? They're totally on a date.
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This is a very important secret. So I'm telling you, a guy I've spoken to four times, on our first date, at a table at the corner of an intersection with open doors and people all around. Very important. Top Secret.
I love the sheer disappointment and disbelief in Khem's voice. Khem: A treasure trove? Really? That's what you're going with? Chatra: Why are you laughing?
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Khem, you're such a hothead. You got into a KITE FIGHT. But it is a great excuse for Chatra to grope your waist. Well done.
At least Khem tells his secret up a tree and not on a LITERAL STREET CORNER.
Can't rid yourself of being a lowborn? *looks at the camera like it's The Office*
Me: I'm laughing with Khem cause a treasure map is stupid. Me five minutes later: wait, you bought that??? Chatra: Wait, he bought that? Oh man, this pretty idiot desperately needs my help...
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Me (And Chatra definitely): My god, look at his face transform into a smile... do it again! again!
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Khem: I have something to tell you... .... ... I've invited Chatra to join our missionWAN:ARE YOUFUCKING CRAZY???
I love the reconstruction sequence. That's some good storytelling.
HAHAHAHAHA "If you don't believe me, feel free to search my rooms!" Wan: Oh...I don't think that's nec- Chatra: DON'T MIND IF I DO. "Maybe you need to search me. I'll undress" Khem: NO THANK YOU WE'RE GOOD.
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Ok... do you think that's enough food for three people? I think we might need to get another table of food in here...
What.... what are you doing Chatra. Like... my man has to have a good reason to point a gun at Khem... but there are no good reasons to point a gun at Khem.... but my man has to have a good reason to....KHEM LET HIM EXPLAIN
Ahhh Hong, I knew he wasn't dead. I knew it! I did! Oooh an assassin's teapot. Nice.
Yeah, old man! I agree!
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Goddamned Apo is so goddamned pretty.
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Oh damn. Risking your life to save your friend... and ending up having to kill him yourself. What a gut punch.
Aww Chatra. I'm not crying, you're crying!
Where's the series? I need the series now! Where is ittttttt???? 😭😭😭😭😭 You can't leave my boys like this!! 😭😭😭
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dailykugisaki · 4 months
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Day 223 | id in alt
Maki thinking some very unsorcererly things over a piece of damn cheesecake.
(Read from right to left💥)
#dailykugisaki#jjk#kugisaki nobara#itadori yuji#zenin maki#inumaki toge#its always the cheesecake tbh#cheese cake isn't bad i think it depends on the type for me tbh sometimes it takes too....cakey....???#fuck i dont even know#ive had some very good cheesecake in my life and man im trying to rob a relative of her recipe#anyway. Maki had a strict diet because of the clan but because Kugisaki showed up and found out her love of junkfood....#it all came crashing down VERY quickly#Kugisaki indulges Maki and vice versa. its kinda funny how they're both violent enablers of eachother#Not pointing fingers but if you're gonna be vauge in the comments then get out or post up in the asks#tell me what ails you#for the other people#these two are fucking deranged idk what their issue is but im sure ill figure it out sometime#im getting there nobamaki enjoyers im getting there TRUST TRUST#time to get hysterically distracted while i write the description of the images#suddenly everything turns into cocomelon#i fucked up the placement but yknow my ass#Kugisaki and Maki are just too silly they're trying to exist but they're so fucked up#my silliest silly#Maki has only the faintest idea of fucked up connections and nobody talks about how shes absolutely abysmal at it#my brain is envisioning Kugisaki with a brick and that's it rn#Beyonce songs are playing#am i hallucinating#the fucked up spoon....lordt#thought about those wack bitches with those wide ass necks and cried#i hope you all imagine everytime i type shit in the tags that its of those stressed ass evangelion screams
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myeagleexpert · 23 days
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The Perfect Boyfriend
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𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖛𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘
Doppleganger/Skinwalker!Yandere x YN (AFAB) Summary: Despite living in a pink world, there's a little voice in the back of your head that tells you that there's something strange with your boyfriend. It can't be anything important, right? (You'll regret not listening to it) Warnings: (Toxic relationships, obsessed relationships, mental manipulation, the smell of rot, description of death, description of fear and panic, a little sentimental smut, The thing loves you - too much.) Uncertain motives. He tries to keep you trapped. The term 'YN' and 'you' is used several times in the fanfic for better grammatical use, my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. <3 PT1: Candlelight dinner PT2: She Knows
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It was already night when your boyfriend showed up at your door, well… er-EX boyfriend. You and Kain had been together for a few months, but when you realized how toxic and rude he was, you felt the need to break up with him. Just a week later, he shows up at your door asking for forgiveness and begging to have you back.
“Shall we at least talk?” Kain’s voice sounds like a broken record that became softer and more pleasant to listen to as he spoke, like a person with a hoarse throat from a hangover, which… well, that was Kain almost every day.
He says, offering you a beautiful bouquet of Japanese flowers, in shades of pink and pastel pink, of various sizes, wrapped in paper that imitated butterfly wings, wrapped in such an elegant and harmonious way. It was an incredibly beautiful and thoughtful bouquet. It was actually an image you had recently visualized at the flower shop and in your desired heart. Point 1 that something is wrong.
Kain has only given you flowers exactly 3 times. All three of them were cheap plastic red roses, still with the price tag on them when YN picked them up and an unmistakable smell of old invaded her nose so much that it made her cough, she has always been sensitive to smells.
These smell of harmonious and enchanted nature, as if one of Monet's beautiful paintings had come to life. But YN is hurt by the aggressive breakup, mulling over painful old memories while trying to maintain her pride with a glass or two of wine. With her mind clouded by sadness and anger, she fails to realize that the man in front of her is strangely… strange.
"What's the bouquet for? You're not going to buy me with that." YN crosses her arms and looks skeptically at the beautiful flowers.
"Please! Accept it as a peace offering!" he says approaching YN with the bouquet, trying to place it in her arms almost desperately.
They were too stupidly beautiful to refuse… but there is something in her heart that tells you to close the door immmediatly.
Sensing your hesitation, he tries to convince you once more.
“Just a conversation, nothing more. I know that… we didn't end up on the best of terms… but please, I need to talk to you.” The man looks at YN with sincerity and devotion in his… blue eyes? YN could have sworn that his eyes were beautiful brown.
“Okay. Okay. Just ONE conversation. And after that… I don't want to see you in front of me anymore.” The girl stomps her foot and maintains her angry and indifferent posture as she receives the flowers and opens the door wider so he can enter.
“And don't even think about jumping on my couch like last time! I'm still paying for the conc-“ Normally Kain would have thrown his muddy sneakers on the floor and sprawled on the couch, but to the girl's surprise, he was right next to her, waiting for her to guide him.
“Did I break your couch? I'm sorry, let me pay for the repair now, okay?” Don't pretend to be nice in front of me, just look at him pretending to be innocent as if he hadn't thrown in my face that the problem was mine.
“I don’t want anything from you, let’s get things moving.” YN spits out the venom, entering the room and placing the bouquet on the table while the man follows her wherever she goes, until they sit on the couch (the one that isn’t broken) in the living room.
In better light, YN can see that there’s something different about him. And Kain dyed his hair, his short black hair was chin-length, the ends highlighted in rich caramel tones. The skin that was once worn out by tiredness and nights of drinking was almost porcelain, clean, with hardly any prominent pores. The thin, frowning mouth had soft, kissable lips, his jaw was well defined too. The post-breakup glow, huh?
“You look different…” you make the observation as you settle into the couch, trying not to seem interested in anything he might have to say, but curiosity is addictive, right?
“Did you like it?” He lights up when you notice and runs your hand through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear as he approaches you.
It's for you.
When he tries to get closer, you aggressively place a pillow between the two of you, much to Kain's dismay, who seems to immediately wilt at your attitude. "I said different. Don't let it go to your head." As sharp as a Tramontina knife, you cut him off immediately.
"You said you wanted to talk, come on. Talk." You snort, putting on a serious posture and looking him straight into his fake eyes. Contacts, Kain? Seriously?
"Ah.. yes, I wanted to talk to you YN." He turns towards her, giving her all the attention she once begged for. A bitter taste invades your mouth, like the feeling of receiving a gift that your child would dream of receiving, but you miss as an adult. A belated gift, that means less than the dust on the soles of your shoes.
“I ask you to reconsider… we've had our ups and downs in our relationship, but I know it has a lot of potential. Let's try again, let me show you how much I've changed, how happy we can be together.” He tries to give a friendly smile.
Change in a week? Nah, spare me.
“Nobody changes that much in a week, Kain. I don't move out of resentment and you've never changed out of guilt.” YN puts him against the wall coldly. “Why do you want to get back together? You called me worthless and now you see the potential in us? Humph… Your offer isn't the best.” She snorts as she looks at him with disdain, wanting to know where all this is coming from.
“Wait! Please!” Kain approaches and desperately takes her hand. “I know I was rude and rude to you… I was selfish and I never gave you the value you deserved. I was terrible and you have every right to refuse me…”
Oh, and how I do.
“But if you give me a chance, I promise you won’t regret it-“
“Oh, I don’t want to pay to see. In the last fight I ended up punching the wall… I don’t want to wait for you to hit my head.” Your gaze is furrowed, irritated and for a moment you notice the same look pass quickly through Kain’s. Is he upset that you threw that in his face?
“I’m sorry about that scene YN, it wasn’t me…” the last part rings so true that YN raises an eyebrow skeptically “You didn’t deserve to go through that.”
Masculine hands move to hold YN’s cheeks as he gently caresses them. They seem too big.. but let’s leave that thought for later. He’s different.. and little by little you’re feel disarmed by his attitude.
“I can’t live without you. Please… just give me one chance to prove to you that I’m your best option. That I’ve changed. That I can be better.” Kain's voice is like a warm blanket, enveloping all your senses… like a mermaid would envelop a sailor until he drowned.
He's never spoken to me like that. He's never used that tone with me.
As the red lights in your head go off, you try to pull away from his hands. Seeing your attempt to pull away, he tightens his grip and moves even closer to your body. There's something strange in his blue eyes… maybe it's a devotion you weren't used to… or something strangely… uncanny.
"YN…" he whispers sweetly and delicately, moving even closer until your eyes are staring directly into each other's.
"I love you… so much. You mean so much to me." He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours. "Give me a chance… just one."
Something possessed you at that moment. The wine must have messed with your head. You must have been drugged. The water was bad. You must be sick. You must have been PMSing. Or ovulating. Or menstruating… because there's no rational reason why you gave in, and nodded slightly with your head tilted to accept his offer.
"Are you serious?" He looks into your eyes and finds no lie, just a hesitation. "I'm so happy! You won't regret it!" He hugs YN and wraps her in strong arms, burying his face in her shoulder while placing small kisses on her face.
When you hug him back, very suspiciously, you notice that his body is different. Taller, more muscular, more attractive… he couldn't make such a change in a week, he didn't even go to the gym.
"YN, look at me…" with a delicate hand on her chin he guides her to his lips, where they kiss delicately, savoring each other's presence. Until the smell of his perfume invades your nose, enveloping you in a light trance.
Kain smells like expensive perfume.
He always smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, something you always complained about. He now had a feeling of cleanliness and elegance, the leather jacket was new too. The smell of perfume is almost suffocating. Why would he be wearing such a fragrant and expensive perfume?
When the two of them are separated for air, Kain looks with so much devotion and love while caressing her lower lip "I love you."
Kain smiles in a way that YN had never seen him smile like that. Big mouth, too white teeth and some sharp hidden fangs.
There's something wrong with her ex-boyfriend.
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But two weeks later… YN forgets about it, keeping any survival instinct or voice of conscience in a drawer at the back of her mind, along with the unpleasant memories of the relationship. Mentally thanking him for having changed.
It was as if she was floating on clouds and Kain was her ray of sunshine.
As time went by, YN fell more and more in love with Kaius, as if she was getting to know a new side of him. It was as if he had created a rosy and passionate world, where he controlled all reality around her, solving everything for her. YN felt trapped in a state of enchantment and dependence almost like a drug addict, laughing alone and going limp in his presence.
It was fascinating for Kaius to manipulate YN's emotions, keeping her trapped in a state of passion and blind trust while he himself fell into a state of disillusionment. Every gesture and behavior of his was calculated to make her fall even more in love, while he tried hard to hide any detail that could reveal the truth. YN found herself increasingly trapped in the spell, unable to realize that the man she had fallen in love with was… too perfect, a romance novel, the kind she had most innocently dreamed of until the adventures in hidden paragraphs. Kaindid everything perfectly and still left her wanting more.
It's been two great weeks, YN visits him at his house almost every day and they're getting ready to live together, she's been going out with her party-loving friends, she's been so productive at work that she got a promotion today!
“Congratulations YN! I knew our project would boost you in the company.” Your boss praises you, it was hard and delicate work but she knew that by putting herself in your hands she would prosper.
“Thank you very much for your trust.” You smile at her.
“The guys are going to celebrate the success after work, are you coming?” she asks, noticing that you're not getting ready to go out
“Oh no, I promised I'd go out with my boyfriend to celebrate today. But I'm going to celebrate the weekend with you guys!” you say, reminding her that you're still going out with the company this weekend, but she looks confused
“Your boyfriend? Didn't you guys break up two or… three weeks ago?”
“We're back together, and he's better than ever, can you believe it?” you show her a picture of the two of you at the eco-park, him holding your waist while smiling beautifully.
Your boss looks suspicious, she could swear by the name of the company that she'd seen him somewhere before, like a piece of information on the tip of her tongue that's soon forgotten strangely… but she tries to give you a vote of confidence “Err… I'm happy for you. But remember, we've had clients who were wolves in sheep's clothing. Enjoy the honeymoon phase.” She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving. “Call me if you need anything, dear.”
Wolf in sheep's clothing… interesting.
You think about this as you ride back to his house on your motorbike, and right on the way you enter the usual flower shop and meet Thomas, the friendly old man who sells the flower shop.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas!” you greet him as soon as you arrive at the store. His tired eyes soon find your presence as you explore the garden in search of a plant that catches your attention.
“Good afternoon, girl.” He walks towards you in slow steps, supporting himself with his old wooden cane.
“I think I’ll take this one here-“ you point to beautiful white alstroemerias.
“Your boyfriend is allergic to these.” He warns, looking at them. “He came here the other day and when he was going to touch this one, it looked like my cat, he started coughing and almost vomited when he touched the plant.”
You turn your head to him in confusion. Kain has never been allergic to flowers.
“I found it strange, because people usually aren’t allergic to this type of alstroemeria.” The old man scratches his chin thoughtfully but then laughs to himself. “But I suppose, each organism works differently.”
“That’s true, the human body has one of those.” You laugh with him, but then you notice him staring at you. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s taking good care of you, isn’t he? You look very radiant, girl.” The old man’s soft voice breaks any tension you were feeling before, and with a slightly blushing face you admit that yes.
“You know, the first time he came in here I thought he was a drunk when I bought those red, plastic roses… on your first date.” Mr. Thomas’s body shivers with disgust at the boy’s lack of romance.
“Oh my god… my head hurts just remembering, he dropped some flowers and came staggering, he smelled terrible of cigarettes.”
“It’s likely he wasn’t drunk… but high, Mr. Thomas.” You whisper to him.
“And how did you fall in love with something like that?” the rolled eyes make YN laugh a little at the florist's drama but before she could say anything he continues
“But the second time he came, he seemed like a gentleman. He walked elegantly through the plants and I was surprised when he chose that bouquet of Japanese flowers…”
“Me too! I wanted them so much!” you sigh in love
“Exactly the flowers you wanted…” he murmurs softly as he picks up a dead leaf from one of the vases
“But that's not what caught my attention, dear…”
“What caught your attention?” Was it his muscles? His hair? The beautiful way he speaks?
He spends a few seconds thinking about how to tell you exactly what it was that made him feel....
“A few years ago, when I was young, I traveled for work and spent a week away. When I came back, the first thing that caught my attention was the smell I could smell from the door…” the old gardener narrates his story with his eyes clouded with nostalgia and worry, as if he wanted YN to understand his point making you feel anxious…..
“My wife had been dead for 3 days… The putrid smell was terrible.” The words are almost like a whisper “I never forgot that smell.”
“That boy smelled like death the second time he came here.” As the gardener looks directly into your eyes YN feels her breath catch in her lungs.
What does he mean by that?
“What did she die of?” YN curiously asks him
“Heart attack or something like that.. I'm sorry. I…” the old man shudders and sits in a nearby chair visibly shaken by such memories while you get him some water trying to somehow give him comfort.
“Oh YN, the smell was very strong and terrible…. when that man came in here I could only remember that.” The man's vision was blurred because he loved his wife very much, he held on tightly to his cane to keep himself steady.
"I'm sorry about your wife, I'm sorry I made you remember all this…" YN crouched down next to him as she picked up the glass of water, feeling guilty for such emotions in the old florist.
He then looked at YN with pity for her kindness, big confused and kind eyes stared back at him, old Mr. Thomas and decided to swallow his tears as he tried to compose himself.
"I'm not saying your boyfriend is a zoombie or anything like that" he laughed as he slowly stood up "But I'm saying he smelled really bad when he got here, remind him to take baths, okay?" he said with the same funny tone as always, playing with the rhymes and tones of the words while to lighten the mood she laughed at him.
"Oh, he smells much better now." You said remembering the bubble baths you took together
"Was it you who gave him that perfume? Good choice.”
What?
“What perfume, Mr. Thomas?” you ask, helping him to the counter.
“It’s an expensive perfume, very good… I think I’ve only smelled one person wearing it, the mayor of the city in 1980. Good taste, it’s an extremely refined perfume.”
“O-oh… yeah.”
“Now he wears it a lot, I felt suffocated in his presence…” he says, adjusting his clothes and cane. “Well, me and my plants.” He laughs to himself.
“Sorry about that, I know they’re sensitive to strong smells.” You laugh.
"I give him a second chance, he brings me really pretty flowers, huh?"
"Oh, the romantic ones."
YN drives confused back to Kain's house, she remembers the drive being longer before they got back together, there were more houses in the neighborhood and that he still lived with his parents. In two weeks she has never heard of his parents… or the neighbors… or the dog he had… where are they?
Her steps are automatic and before she knows it she is in front of a cozy and chic house, with plants in front decorating a beautiful backyard with very green grass and all doubts and questions disappear when she knocks on the door, anxious for her dear boyfriend to answer.
Almost immediately the door opens, he seems to always be waiting for her like a dog anxiously awaits its owner, he would never leave her waiting.
“Good night, darling, I missed you so much.” He wraps her in a comforting hug and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead, inviting her to come into the house, taking off her coat and boots, a gesture that always makes butterflies fly in YN’s stomach.
Oh, the little gestures < 3…
Wait, what is he wearing?
“Oh, you look beautiful in an apron, you know?” YN compliments her boyfriend, giving him a mischievous smile.
He was wearing a pastel pink plaid apron, with red lace the same shade as his cheeks when he hears her compliment.
“Oh, did you like it? I-i just wanted to surprise you, my love. Let’s celebrate, remember?”
“And how could I forget?” YN hugs him and he quickly wraps his arms around her again “I’d rather be here with you than go out to celebrate with the company.”
“And I’m going to make you enjoy every bit of tonight…” he murmured with a smirk on his lips as he brushed their noses together in a delicate gesture. He took YN’s chin between his fingers, guiding her head to within inches of his mouth. At this moment, YN’s hands began to roam Kain’s body, transforming the moment into something more intimate.
“Oh darling, what a big body you have…” she said in a husky tone, playing with the hem of his shirt. A sneaky hand left trails of fire on Kain’s body.
“It’s to protect you better, my love…” he chuckled, pulling her closer to him with his hands on her waist. The air was heavy between the two of them, and YN delighted in seeing her boyfriend’s pupils dilate like a cat’s.
“Oh darling, what big eyes you have…”
“It’s to see you better, my little one…” he chuckled softly, and his large hands began to explore her body, from her hips to her breasts, firmly cupping her breasts. goosebumps on both of them, some sparks of passion starting to turn into dangerous flames….
“But darling, what big hands you have…” the young woman's body is pressed closer against his warm body as she bats her eyelashes innocently, an innocence that doesn't reach the small smirk on her lips
“Oh, yes darling, I have nice big hands, don't I? It's the better to hold you, sweetheart……” in a husky and low voice he answers, bringing his mouth to YN's neck giving long kisses in the region Kain lets out a soft moan as YN runs her hand through his hair encouraging him, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.
He looks at YN, blue eyes full of desire and an almost primal hunger, as he continues to kiss and tease the delicate skin…
“Oh but.. darling?” YN breathed
“Yeah?” Kain breathed back
“And why such a big mouth?”
He licks his lips as he brings his girlfriend's face closer with one hand, inches away from her succulent lips, possessively squeezing her curves with the other, making YN moan slightly, their heartbeats synchronizing as they look intensely into each other's eyes…
"It's fo-" The oven alarm goes off, a high-pitched and unromantic sound, making the two young lovers frustrated by the break in the moment.
YN grunts, leaning her head against Kain's chest, feeling embarrassed now that the sound of the alarm has brought her sanity back. She always feels like she loses her self-control around Kain. He laughs lightly at her reaction and strokes her hair gently.
"Hey, it's your surprise in the oven…" he kisses the top of her head "Go take a shower, honey, it's time for me to finish the preparations, okay?" She nods and lets go of him, climbing the stairs to the first floor, almost floating, still recovering from the previous moment with a silly smile on her face, the same one Kain had while preparing the frosting and strawberries for the cake…
YN's nose only realizes now that the house has a very sweet smell, normally she is already used to the smell in the house but today the traditional smell of roses and homey is more like an open candy store, when entering the room she notices that there are more air fresheners than usual in every corner and corner. Kain knows that Yn has a sweet tooth, always looking for desserts and sweet smells and he was very happy to make this house as comfortable as possible… but is he not exaggerating? Nah, never.
The young woman enters the marble bathroom, now with feminine touches everywhere the eye can see: Skincare that smells like tutti frutti gum, soap that smells like strawberries, shampoo that smells like raspberries, towels in a shade of pastel pink, matching the bathroom rugs and the flowers near the mirror.
YN laughs dreamily, who would have thought that for such a big man with such a rough appearance, Kain wouldn't be more than happy to have the same feminine smell as his girlfriend? He insists, as they take a shower together. He insists while using the same floral perfume as his girlfriend, claiming that he wants to have the same smell as his girlfriend, he feels closer to her every time she does leave and he could recognize her sweet scent.
YN leaves the bathroom refreshed and radiant and puts on a comfortable dress but with a slight neckline, delicate pink with white polka dots to match her boyfriend's cute apron. She sighs in relief that the day is finally over and all she will do now is enjoy the night with Kain, he always made her worries melt away with the slightest touch, and with the slightest touch from YN, Kain felt determined to do everything for her.
They were a perfect couple and beautiful to behold.
The world was pink with cotton candy clouds.
The background music was like a fairy tale from an old romance.
What more could she want?
As she dries her hair, she receives a message from her boss and ignores it thinking it must be a photo of the company's celebration or a request to reform some document. Not today, she thought to herself. When the messages became frantic, YN began to find the situation strange and, shrugging her shoulders, decided to pick up her cell phone and check what was happening.
She held her breath.
It wasn't a photo of the company party.
It was an image of Kain's body, dead in a car accident.
It wasn't a message asking her to reform some document.
It was a message in capital letters that screamed in desperation:
Boss: YN THIS IS NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. Boss: KAIN DIED IN AN ACCIDENT THREE WEEKS AGO. Boss: RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!
YN feels the world fall apart as she lets her cell phone fall from her cold hands, while she keeps the storm of emotions inside her in a confused way. Trembling, she sits on the carefully made bed, and a cold hand tries to cover her half-open mouth. In a state of shock, all the girl can do is stay paralyzed, staring at the emptiness in the room while her hair drips and wets the bed.
No… this can't be real…..
She looks at the photo once more, a big red circle marking the date: It happened three weeks ago.
How….. is this….. possible?
She tries to reason while catching her breath, a mixture of sadness and fear taking over her heart.
"Honey, everything is ready! Are you going down now?" Kain's voice echoes through the house, he is asking at the foot of the stairs while drying his hands.
Fear is not enough.
Panic takes over YN's body so much that she starts to shake horribly and any logical thought disappears, becoming paralyzed.
"Will you be long, sweetheart?"
I need to get away from here. This man wants to kill me. OMG. OH MY GOD! WHAT DO I DO?
"YN?" a voice with more authority in its tone, as if demanding to know why she is not responding.
Amidst the accelerated beats and the pressure in her ears, she hears him take a step on the stairs and terrified she tries to hide it.
"N-no!… ah…. I'm looking… for my perfume." She tries to hide it by stretching to open and close the drawer next to the bed, pretending to be looking.
“Don’t be long, my love, I already miss you <3” he hums in a sweet and passionate tone as he returns to the kitchen.
Quick.
Action plan. Quick. I need help.
YN: Okay, what do you mean by that? (message not sent)
YN: Who is this man then? What is he? (message not sent)
YN: I need to get out of here, please come and get me! (message not sent)
A shiver runs down the girl’s spine when the internet suddenly goes out, what could have happened to her? Will I have to deal with all this alone?
Oh my God…..
She runs a trembling hand through her wet hair trying to calm herself down with all this and for the first time in two weeks she hears the little voice inside her head, the one that said there was something strange with her boyfriend.
He doesn’t know that I know.
An advantage? Yes.
Disadvantage? Anything could be in his plans.
What is he using me for? Why is he pretending to be my boyfriend? Is he behind the real Kain's accident? What if I call the police? What if he wants to kill me while I'm sleeping? What if he poisons me…? Oh no.
YN's eyes widen at the possibility and an overwhelming anxiety takes over her body, her breath catching in her throat, her heart racing, sweat running down her forehead.
"Sweetheart, do you want me to escort the princess to her royal kitchen?" the voice of the aforementioned person is heard in the hallway, he is in the middle of the stairs humming "Have you found your perfume yet, love?"
A second passes.
And another.
"YN, are you okay?"
You need to get out of here. Quickly.
"…… y-yes…… I, I'm… coming down now, okay?" disguising it in a shaky voice, she slowly gets up from the bed and picks up the perfume on the headboard next to the bed, applying it with difficulty because the sweat on her hands made it slip.
She swallows the terrible urge to scream for help, to jump out the window, to tear her hair out, and takes robotic steps until she leaves the room, passing through the damn hallway like a sheep going to the slaughterhouse. At that moment, the various sweet air fresheners make her feel nauseous and her head spins. She rests one hand on the wall as she goes down the stairs, her eyes wide as she holds her breath.
Slowly she takes in the scene: The dining room looks like it came straight out of a romance movie, there are rose petals on the floor and candles in vintage candelabras on the table, in the middle of the table there is a beautiful decorated pink cake and at the entrance is the perfect boyfriend.
"May I have the honors, my princess?" He extends his hand in a chivalrous manner and YN, as an instinct of her body for having done this scene many times, gives him her hand.
Kain's eyes are full of devotion as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of YN's hand, looking her directly in the eyes during the act, the action takes seconds to finish.
“I’m glad you chose me. And as promised, you won’t regret it.” He takes her by the hand and gently pulls out the chair, waiting for his lady to sit down. YN is doing everything she can to not freak out, trying to act as normal as possible, trying to relax at any cost so he doesn’t notice.
“T-thanks for the… kindness, dear.” With a dry mouth she says.
He hums in return, “Oh, anything for you.”
YN can’t help but think that everything he says and does has a hidden meaning now, like a predator sadistically toying with his prey. The young man brings the cake closer so YN can appreciate the vitsa, which he spent the afternoon learning on YouTube how to decorate a cake with icing and create a romantic setting.
“Well…” he clears his throat “I hope you like it, it was my first time doing something like this and I really wanted you to like it.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear while giving a charming smile
“Y-yes… yeah, it’s beautiful, love.”
YN forced a smile as she struggled to stay calm, trying not to show the chaos that was unfolding inside her. Her hands were still shaking as she watched Kain cut a piece of the cake and place it on a plate for her.
The strange man, still in the role of the perfect groom, decides to be more romantic and proposes to feed her, in a cute way. He asks YN to open her mouth while trying to make it seem like a sweet and loving scene.
"Open your mouth, honey. Let me give you a piece of cake. Say 'Aah~"
YN opens her mouth automatically, while her mind is still stuck on her boss's words. Her expression is almost absent, as she tries to maintain the facade of apparent calm in front of her boyfriend. Kain puts the piece of cake in YN's mouth and observes her face, thinking that her apparent passivity was a product of the romantic scene they were having. Meanwhile, YN could only think about finding a way to escape from there as quickly as possible.
With each bite, YN felt the fear increase even more, praying to any being in the heavens to save her, for someone to clean up this mess, for her to have the strength to stop him. A wave of ultra sensitivity hits her mind, a result of stress and anxiety, and she can't stop thinking that it's all too much… too much. The cake is too sweet, sickly sweet, the frosting is too pink, the cherries taste too much like cherries, the background music was a soundtrack from her favorite romantic movie making her hair stand on end to the point of pain, capturing every sound and vibration in constant alert, as if at any moment he would take out a knife and stab her.
While YN ate the piece of cake, her mind was still stuck in trying to find a way to escape that situation without giving herself away. She tried to act as normally as possible in front of the stranger in front of her, while her heart was pounding with anxiety and fear.
“Are you okay, love? You seem tense… isn't the cake good?” Kain asks, gently running a hand over YN's cheek and involuntarily she pulls away.
Kain's eyes widen and a twinge of sadness passes through his blue eyes.
YN regrets that.
“S-sorry, love… I'm just tired from work.” YN tries to act as normal as possible but he can almost see through her that there is something bothering her, or to be more exact, he can see through the neckline of her dress that the beautiful woman's heart is abnormally racing.
“But… but the cake is delicious!” To prove the point, she herself picks up the fork and takes a piece of cake to her mouth, holding back the urge to vomit. “Beginner's luck, maybe?” she laughs and teases him a little.
Act normal, woman. Act normal or he'll notice.
��Who knows?” He smiles at her, not understanding what happened but decides to save this subject for later to enjoy the romantic dinner
“I've always been lucky on my first times…” he winks at her
“O-Oh…” YN laughs embarrassedly, not hiding the blush that rises on her cheeks
Dinner soon ends, YN comments a few things about work while Kain gives details of how his day was and in the end they go to watch a movie on the couch cuddling wrapped in soft and warm blankets. YN who was previously so interested in the cinematography of films, obsessively observing each character and each angle now doesn't even know the name of the film or what genre it is.
Would it be horror like a terrible joke of the storm inside herself? Would it be a romantic movie to continue this psychotic game of house?
All she can think is that now is the perfect time to run away.
Now that Kain is sleeping so soundly in her arms with a contented smile.
The clock strikes midnight and with a little trick she manages to leave without waking him, making her steps as light as a feather as she walks to the door, the only source of light being the TV playing scenes from the movie.
Her heart was beating strongly in her veins, she could hear her own heartbeats in her ear as she took a deep breath until she reached the door she had dreamed of, the exit to salvation.
As soon as she puts her cold hand on the doorknob, a brutal realization hits her in the face, she doesn't have her cell phone… and she doesn't know where it is.
With a sharp gulp she decides to go without it because this might be her only chance of survival, she tightly holds the motorcycle keys and opens the door.
"Where are you going at this time of night, sweetheart?" the creature's voice was like a roar held back by teeth, Kain's figure was on the other side of the door making her blood run cold immediately, YN's cell phone was in his big hand with the messages with her boss open.
His figure towers over her trembling form, his head twisting in an inhuman manner, watching YN intently, a horrifying smile on his lips.
For the first time in two weeks, YN smells a repulsive, rotten smell.
A scream is heard.
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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥
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1K notes · View notes
drunk-person · 3 months
Text
Training Yard
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
Summary: One of Y/n's most common habits is admiring her husband's training every day. On a particularly hot day, the jealousy of the other ladies makes her achieve everything she has been dreaming of for a long time..
WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, swords being used inappropriately, jealousy sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.
Word cont: 2.800 k
Author's note: Okay, I think those gifs and images with a special focus on Aemond's sword changed the chemistry of my brain, and from that change this one short was born. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.
When Y/n was promised to Aemond and traveled with her family to Kings landing to meet him the first time she saw him was at the training camp. He was brandishing a sword and fighting like a demon. The look of concentration on his face, the way he moved fluidly, the sweat that dripped down his forehead, all of it caught Y/n's attention and made her thighs press together in a way she hadn't understood at the time.
Even in her homeland when the marriage was announced, everyone told her that Prince Aemond was a great warrior, but nothing had prepared her for that. It didn't take long for both of them to get married and gradually build their own daily routine. Y/n, just as her husband woke up very early, and they both had breakfast together, soon after Aemond left for the training yard. And Y/n couldn't even say when it became such a recurring habit to watch her husband training every morning. But she could definitely say that it was one of her favorite parts of the day.
Y/n now knew what that pressure between her thighs meant when she saw her husband in the training yard. She knew even better. And even after almost twelve moons of marriage, she still felt the same feeling whenever she saw him. Today in particular the day was particularly hot, as it was the middle of summer, and even though she was wearing a lighter dress Y/n could still feel the sweat running down between her breasts and down her back as she fanned herself with a fan.
She admired her husband's every move downstairs as he fought with Sir Criston, and she couldn't help but bite her lip gently as she watched him grip the hilt of his sword tightly. Y/n could see that Aemond was sweating wearing all those layers of clothes, his silver hair was damp with sweat, and it was to her great surprise that he had an attitude that she would never have expected. He took off his doublet and opened the thin shirt he was wearing underneath, she sighed when he saw the scene, but the contentment soon passed when she noticed that the other ladies of the court were looking at her husband like hungry dogs would look at a piece of meat.
Y/n gritted her teeth angrily as she held tightly to the wooden support of the balcony, as she thought about how lovely it would be to be able to throw one of them from above. And with her eyes sparkling, she barely waited for the fight to end before going down to the courtyard and approaching where Aemond was.
As soon as Aemond disarmed Sir Cole, causing his sword to be thrown a long distance, and placed his own sword against the older man's throat, the audience applauded happily. But no Y/n, she was smarter than doing something so trivial. And with that in mind she pretended to drop the green fan with gold embroidery that she used to fan herself and relieve the heat.
Aemond immediately bent down, picking up the fan from the floor and handing it into her hands, touching her skin in public even if quickly as he placed the fan back between Y/n's hands.
— Thank you very much husband. — She spoke softly, looking at him from beneath her long eyelashes, already opening the fan again, while she gently bit her lip.
—You're welcome wife. — He replied, looking lightly at the drops of sweat that fell down his wife's neckline, when she intelligently guided his gaze there using the fan. —I see that you are also feeling very hot.
—Well, I told you not to go out in such heavy clothes today, if you had listened to me maybe you wouldn't be walking around practically naked in public. — She spoke only for Aemond to hear, curving his eyebrows and wrinkling his nose, while he looked at her with that ironic smile that made her want to jump on him, to kill him or other things.
—I'm going to retire to our quarters, my prince, the weather is very hot. — And she turned around, closing the fan and walking away without even looking back, already knowing that it wouldn't be long before he would follow her to the bedroom. Aemond always got a little wild after training, with her teasing him he knew he would want her.
As she passed the court ladies, Y/n made a point of smiling arrogantly before heading inside the fortress. Aemond was her husband, only hers and no one else's. And still with her body tense with jealousy and desire, she entered the dark corridor to get to her own rooms faster. But before she could walk two meters she felt someone covering her mouth with their hand while pulling her firmly around the waist. Y/n screamed muffledly as she struggled, until the soft voice came in her ear.
—Easy, my princess.
Hearing Aemond's voice her whole body instantly relaxed, even as he dragged her into an even darker corner and pinned her firmly against the wall of a cramped alcove.
—What did you think you were doing? — He spoke with an irritated voice against her hair while holding her. — Looking at me like that in public, practice begging me to fuck you.
—Well, maybe I wanted to show some unsuspecting people that Prince Aemond has already been married for almost a year before they jump on you! —Y/n practically growled the words in annoyance, and it became even worse when she felt Aemond laughing against her neck.
—So that's what this is about? —He asked in a mocking voice. — Jealousy.
—I'm not jealous. — She replied grumpily, still pressed against the wall.
—Oh no, you are burning with. — He smiled at the realization.
—You know that my only eye is only for you, wife. — He said kissing her neck from behind. — Just for you.
—You think I don't see the way you look every morning when you watch me train. — He whispered, nibbling on her neck. — That I don't watch the way you bite your lip every time I grip the sword hilt. — He bit her earlobe as he said that while pressing himself against her clothed ass, making her gasp.
And without warning he pulled the strings of her dress violently while Y/n's eyes widened in shock as they were almost in the middle of a hallway. The flowing dress fell at her feet and Y/n felt herself blushing for being practically naked in that place.
—Aemond, what if someone shows up? —She spoke fearfully.
—Should you have thought about that before. —He said, pulling her small clothes down and stripping her completely naked while he trailed wet kisses down her back. Suddenly she felt Aemond turn her around and push her in the other direction, lifting her off the floor and sitting her on a small sideboard, knocking over a vase that was previously on top.
—Aemond! —She reprimanded him, but was interrupted when he pressed his lips to hers while holding her thighs, caressing them and keeping them open. He trailed kisses from her lips to her neck, and from her neck to her soft breasts where he feasted on licking and sucking like he knew Y/n liked. And little by little, the caresses that were on her thighs moved up towards her throbbing core, which panted in anticipation every time Aemond's fingers got closer to where she needed him most.
—Husband… —She whimpered when he rubbed two fingers against her wetness.
—So wet for me. — He said, looking down at her, still paying attention to her breasts.
—I need you inside me. — She begged with a needy voice while Aemond slowly massaged her pearl, and she saw the gleam of malice in his eyes as he shook his head.
—No, you don't deserve to get what you want. —Aemond gently pinched her pearl, making her moan and lightly bite her own hand to muffle the noise. — You were such a negligent wife, leaving in the middle of my training, making me have to drop everything and come to you.
—No, you deserve something else. — He said, pulling her and making her almost scream in surprise as he turned her around and leaned over the small sideboard.
Y/n listened as Aemond unbuckled his belt and raised her eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he would do. But the realization came soon after when she felt something cold against her hot and wet intimacy, panting immediately afterwards.
—I noticed some time ago the way you always look at my sword when you think I'm not looking. — Aemond said while lightly brushing the handle of the sheathed sword against Y/n's intimacy, who pressed her eyes firmly while biting her lips in disbelief that this was really happening.
And without warning he penetrated the first part of the handle into her wet pussy, making her squirm with pleasure and bite her own arm to keep from moaning when she felt the cold metal against her hot skin. Aemond watched ecstatically as the rounded part of the handle was swallowed whole while Y/n moaned and panted with pleasure, he waited a few moments before pushing the rest in and no longer moving it letting her adapt to the size, while he smiled at the sight of his wife squirm, leaking more and more against the handle of the sword.
—Husband… —She begged, looking back with her face wet with tears and her lips red from biting them so much. — Husband, please. —Aemond smiled maliciously, but did not move the sword even an inch. —Aemond, I'm begging you. — She cried rubbing herself against the hilt of the sword.
—Look at you, my dear wife. —He said caressing her moist lips with his finger. —Begging like a real whore.
Y/n immediately nodded, leaning towards him for a kiss, which Aemond didn't have the courage to refuse. And in the middle of the wet and breathless kiss he moved the handle of the sword, thrusting firmly against Y/n's pussy, making her almost scream against his lips while digging her nails into her husband's neck. Aemond smiled against her lips and little by little he picked up speed, in a constant back and forth that made Y/n shiver with pleasure and lose control about one's own body.
She felt like she was going to collapse at any moment, the feeling of the metal filling her making her feel things she had never imagined before. The wet, filthy sound filling the air and the idea of ​​anyone walking by and seeing Aemond doing this to her made her even wetter if that was possible. Heat flooded her entire body and the smell of sweat filled the small alcove at that moment. Y/n did her best to remain silent, but it was almost impossible not to moan her husband's name and beg him to give her more, feeling on the verge of climax.
—Maybe you want them all to listen. — Aemond spoke in a hoarse and low voice close to her ear while sucking her earlobe. —Let them all hear you moan like a little whore while I fuck you with the hilt of my sword.
Y/n couldn't take it anymore, it was like everything inside her broke at once and she came against the hilt of her husband's sword shaking and whimpering as she squirmed and tried to hold on to the small sideboard. Her legs were shaking like jelly and she could barely stand, the feeling of her husband pulling the sword hilt out of her almost made her scream from overstimulation.
Aemond smiled with satisfaction as he pulled the hilt of the sword from inside Y/n, seeing it covered in the white fluids and liquids that came from his wife's pleasure, he never failed to be impressed by the fact that she became even more beautiful destroyed with pleasure. And still smiling, admiring the mess between her legs, he untied the drawstrings of his pants and pulled his own dick out, stroking it a few times and then rubbing it against her moist folds.
Y/n thought she was going to faint from the feeling of being filled again, but now completely. She was so sensitive after her first orgasm that it was as if Aemond was everywhere, and she couldn't help but grind against him for more.
—Always so good and eager for me.— Aemond praised her as he fucked her harder and harder and caressed her hips and breasts. —Such a good and wet cunt.
—You don't need to be jealous, wife, the only one I live for is you, no one else. — He said, sucking her neck and leaving a kiss there while Y/n whimpered and agreed, looking for his lips anxiously.
The two kissed eagerly and Aemond gained even more strength in his thrusts, and when Y/n was on the verge of orgasm again, footsteps sounded in the hallway and Aemond stopped his movements while covering her mouth, signaling for his wife to stay quiet.
Aemond then took advantage of the pause by withdrawing from inside her and turning her to face him and when the steps were far enough away he kissed her again hungrily, and already penetrating her once again with force. Y/n in turn brought her hands to his face, pulling him more and more towards her, wanting to feel every little part of him against her, and she barely noticed when the eye patch fell to the floor, only noticing when they both separated from the kiss. and the shine of the sapphire was present in the dark alcove, making her sigh with contentment at the sight.
—Husband, I want you so much. — She sighed, pulling him into another kiss, feeling closer and closer to the edge with each thrust from Aemond, and feeling him accelerate, she came against his cock, crying and moaning while putting her head in the gap between his neck and shoulder.
—I love you husband, I love you so much. —She whimpered, leaving kisses on his neck, and hearing his wife say those words while feeling her pussy milking him, Aemond came deeply inside her, shuddering and calling his wife's name with his face contorted with pleasure.
Y/n made a point of lifting her head to see the scene before her, in her opinion there was nothing as beautiful in that world as Aemond's face, the only thing that could compare was Aemond's face after the climax.
She caressed his face gently while she felt him massaging her waist with his fingertips still inside her, both still panting, a few moments later Aemond came out of her and lovingly helped her get dressed.
—I'm going to retire to our quarters, husband. —Y/n said visibly tired, and at the same moment Aemond's look changed and he shook his head.
—Oh no you won't.—He said holding her face between his hands firmly looking her in the eyes while speaking in a slightly hoarse voice. — Now you're going to go back there, sit like the obedient and devoted wife you are with my seed running down your legs and watch the rest of the training, knowing that my sword is full of your cunt juice.
—But husband... — She said with wide eyes.
—As I've told you a few times, wife, we must think about the consequences before acting. —He said, replacing his eye patch and fixing his own clothes with a smile.
—If you're lucky, there will only be you up there at that time.
He then fastened the belt with the sword back around his waist and Y/n could see the hilt still glistening with her fluids, and felt her face burn with embarrassment.
—I will never need a tournament favor again as long as I carry this sword. —Aemond said mockingly, looking at her and Y/n rolled her eyes angrily, since her husband didn't even participate in tournaments.
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gubsbuubs · 9 months
Text
Trophy wife
Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 4.5K
Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.
Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."
A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
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“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.
"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”
“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.
Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"
"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.
"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.
As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”
“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.
And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.
Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.
And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.
To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.
"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."
Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”
"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.
“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.
--x--
As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.
By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.
"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.
"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.
Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.
As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.
"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"
"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."
"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."
"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."
"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.
"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."
"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.
He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."
Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.
"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."
"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."
"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"
Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."
"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.
Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."
Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.
"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."
"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.
"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.
"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.
"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.
"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.
--x--
JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.
As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.
My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?
I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.
Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.
From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.
"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."
With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."
I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.
"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.
"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.
“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.
"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.
From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.
I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.
"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.
"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.
"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.
--x--
As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.
The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."
As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.
Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.
The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?
The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.
The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.
As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.
His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.
"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.
His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."
"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."
We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.
"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.
"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"
His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.
"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.
I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?
"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."
"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.
"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.
“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”
Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."
I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.
"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.
His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."
His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.
Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me
"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.
"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.
Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.
As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.
As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.
Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."
Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.
Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?
The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.
My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.
"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."
My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.
"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.
"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"
"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.
I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.
“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.
"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.
"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.
"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."
“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.
"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go
"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.
"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.
Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.
Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.
"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.
After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.
Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."
"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.
"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."
"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"
"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.
"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"
And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.
His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,
“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.
"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."
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ssahotchnerr · 10 months
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Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)
distractions
you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual
your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.
the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.
it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.
at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.
he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.
you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.
you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.
you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.
you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.
so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.
well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.
give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.
"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.
as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.
"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."
caught.
"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."
aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."
oh? "oh."
"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"
you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"
"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."
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jointherebellion215 · 6 months
Text
Flowers
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Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader
Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.
Word Count: 1.5k
TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??
A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.
Read Part One and Part Two
AO3
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.
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Lily white and poppy red
I trembled when he laid me out
“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”
Nothing gonna wake you now
Drops of blood. 
A wicked, black smile.
“You won’t feel a thing.” 
You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.
The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.
On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.
That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.
While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.
You are a Harkonnen now.
Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.
Your husband wouldn’t allow that.
Dreams are sweet, until they’re not
Men are kind, until they aren’t
Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart
“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”
You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.
You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.
“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”
His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.
“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“I know you don’t, my darling.”
You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.
“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”
Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.
Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”
You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.
“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“
“She did.”
He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”
You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 
Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.
“I only want what’s best for you.”
You understand now.
Is anybody listening?
I open my mouth and nothing comes out
Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.
Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.
“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.
Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.
“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.
“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”
Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.
“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”
There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.
You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”
Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.
Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.
Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.
Flowers, I remember field of flowers
Soft beneath my heels
Walking in the sun, I remember someone
Someone by my side, turned his face to mine
The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.
A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—
You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.
A laugh, familiar and warm—
A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.
Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—
The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.
A kiss, given freely—
Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.
My darling—
My love—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
“Is everything alright, my darling?”
You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?
Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
You give a bright smile.
If you ever walk this way
Come and find me lying in the bed I made
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how do i make my writing more ‘mature’? i always feel like no matter how sophisticated i write and no matter every which way i change it up it always has a sense of being childish or juvenile.
Making Writing Sound More Mature
1 - Better Plot and Story Structure - One of the telltale signs of juvenile writing is a story that meanders, has no obvious plot or structure, has no conflict or has a protagonist with no goal. So, make sure you have a well fleshed out plot, with a conflict, protagonist goal, and which hits the beats specific to your story's genre.
2 - Three-Dimensional Characters - If you're writing plot-driven fiction, make sure your main characters have a fleshed out personality, stakes, motivation, goal, and compelling relationships with other characters. If you're writing fully or partially character-driven fiction, do all of the above, but also make sure your main characters have a relevant internal conflict and a thoughtful character arc.
3 - Well-Developed Setting and World - One common hallmark of juvenile writing is a lack of "sense of place" and under-developed world building. So, make sure you put a lot of thought into where your story takes place... not just the immediate setting of each scene, but the overall world of the story, or at least the parts of it that are relevant.
4 - Incorporate Literary Devices - Juvenile writing tends to be lacking in the use of metaphor, simile, symbolism, irony, themes, and motifs. So, make sure to include those, but also take the time to make them relevant to your story.
5 - Include a Broad Range of Vocabulary - One common element of juvenile writing is a reliance on limited, simple vocabulary. Don't be afraid to use a thesaurus to find more interesting word choices--just be absolutely certain to crosscheck your choices with a dictionary to make sure they are the right choice. Online thesauruses in particular are bad about offering up bad suggestions. Also, make sure to learn and use special vocabulary that is relevant to your story, genre, or setting. For example, if your character is a retired police detective trying to solve a murder on his stalled cruise to Alaska, you need to make sure you know the proper investigative terminology, because he will definitely use it. And, by that same token, you'd want to make sure you know cruise ship lingo as well. And, part of this, too, is getting better at description and the inclusion of emotional and sensory detail.
6 - Use Varied Sentence Structure - This is a big one... juvenile writing tends to use repetitive sentence structure, such as simple sentences (she stood up, she went to the window, she waved at the man), lack of subordinate clauses (Tad Smith, who was a seasoned and retired investigator, had looked forward to this cruise his whole life...), repetitive starts (every sentence begins with a pronoun, for example), uniform length (all short sentences, for example.) So, make sure your sentences are varied. If you read them out loud, you don't want it to sound rhythmic, but more like a complex melody.
7 - Show, Don't Tell... Most of the Time - Telling definitely has its place, but most of the time you want to show rather than tell, meaning that instead of stating things simply and directly (the sun was shining) you want to paint a clear but indirect image (dappled sunlight shone through the trees.)
8 - Avoid Cliche Phrases - Human language is littered with everyday phrases like "to each their own" or "better late than never." Generally-speaking, you want to avoid these phrases in your story, especially in exposition. If you include them anywhere, they're best spoken as dialogue by a character who it makes sense would say something like that. Likewise, be careful of cliche genre or character-type phrases. For example, villains who say things like "we're not so different, you and I..." or "I finally have you right where I want you!" These overused phrases tend to make stories sound juvenile and unpolished.
9 - Avoid Cliche Tropes - Another type of cliche to avoid if you want more mature-sounding writing is cliches of various tropes. Tropes on their own are a good thing, but when tropes are used the same way over and over again in a genre or type of story, they become predictable. For example, the super gorgeous protagonist who everyone is in love with, but they view themselves as plain and not special. Or the broken/hopeless/addict mentor character. It's not that you can't use any cliche tropes at all, just make sure your story isn't riddled with them, and do what you can to put your own spin on the ones you do use.
10 - Read, Read, Read - And I can't stress this enough... the absolute best way to improve your writing style and take your writing from juvenile to polished is to make sure you're reading a lot of fiction, in a lot of genres, by a lot of authors. Audio books, short stories, and poetry count, too. The more you read, the more you begin to: understand plot and story structure, recognize well-developed characters, easily envision complex settings and worlds, learn vocabulary and literary devices, become attuned to varied sentence structure, and learn to recognize cliche phrases and tropes.
Happy writing!
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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quinngefail · 1 month
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Um. So
Wanted to do an inverse of that last drawing set, and the initial plan was for this one to also have an overall goofy tone. But I couldn't think of ways to spin humor into this one (save for the last image) given what I wanted to touch on, so...
I guess here's some divulgence of my post-bathroom-trap Lawrence characterization, but with a weird juxtaposition between Writing and Visuals because I still ended up using the Little Guy art style HRKGKG...
And same as Adam's post, if my writing is difficult to read, it's all in text form in the image descriptions! ^_^
I feel rather self-conscious about this one overall. But y’know, fuck it man. We're posting it regardless
More thoughts under the cut:
So basically... In my mind's eye, this is a man who has developed an extremely guilty conscious following the bathroom trap, and is now hyper aware of the consequences of his actions. He's been separated from his family, and is desperately determined not to fail anyone else; something that especially applies to Adam, and their relationship in general. And despite Adam having long forgiven him for what happened in the bathroom trap and making it very clear that 'I don't hate you, I could never hate you', Lawrence just cannot internalize this, and constantly has this 'it's the least I can do for you after everything I've done' sort of mentality towards far too many things in regards to Adam.
While also having serious bouts of that whole "You're just manipulating him so you can get your cheap validation and feel good about yourself-"
I'll elaborate more when I write my full thoughts out because there is SO MUCH MORE I could talk about but. FOR NOW THIS IS AN INTRODUCTION TO MY SICK AND TWISTED BRAINROT 🙌
Okay and like the overall tone on Adam's drawing set may have indeed been more goofy, but DON'T GET IT TWISTED that is not my perpetual approach to the way I think about + want to depict his struggles and all that. It was just certainly easier to throw comedy into his pieces lmao. And I've also got a whole lot more to elaborate on with him and his 20 million issues </3
And then lastly!! With the final image it's like I IMAGINE LAWRENCE DOESN'T GET AS CAUGHT UP IN BEING EMBARRASSED OVER BEING ROMANTICALLY CHEESY AND SHIT but y’know. Sometimes you're saying "what's cookin', good lookin'," to your boyfriend with no problem. But other times your brain crafts up "MI ADAM-ORE" and you just have to take a step back after actually going through with saying that one. And have your moment of regretting your every life choice. Y’know
Once they both realize + embrace how cringe + cheesy + corny they truly are. It'll be all over
That's all lol thank you for reading 👉👈
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mrsnancywheeler · 10 months
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midnight rain // finnick odair x f. reader
summary: finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.
chapter two
sequel
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warnings: descriptions of gore, violence, character death, hurt/comfort, allusions to trafficking, secrets, inaccurate timeline, finnick might be ooc idk I'm not good at telling lmao, part one ??, unedited, ANGST, fluff, no use of y/n, pet names like angel and my love, the title will make more sense when I get all my ideas out in the possible next part, so long, I'm so sorry
2.9k words
Waking up in his arms is what saved you, every night when you were thrown back into that arena shivering in the cold, the warmth of him wrapped around you would guide you back to safety.
Safety.
Did you even have that? Comments made in passing by former victors and my Finnick’s attitude made your stomach turn. What truly lay ahead for you post the games? You couldn't focus on that yet though, right now you'd just have the muster up the courage to finish up the grand Victory Tour. Your reward for losing your humanity, for the blood staining your hands.
Finnick grumbled into your shoulder as he began waking from his own so-called rest, which you could only imagine became more torturous as time went on. Or not, maybe you'd become more numb to it as the present forced itself onto you rather than the ghosts of the past. Sunlight streamed down on his bronze skin, he nearly shimmered. It was as if the gods knew he deserved to be blessed with something for all the tribulations he faced.
“I'm supposed to be the one watching you sleep." His saccharine voice filled your senses like honey, the sound of sleep adding a rasp, in the mornings he was like honey and toast.
“Sorry I couldn't resist your charms and I didn't want to disturb your rest, golden boy." You smiled as he raised his eyebrows at you.
“Your rest is much more important, it's your Victory Tour. You've got people to face and impress, be the Capitol’s Princess." He said it with a smile you could melt for, but behind his tone you could sense bitterness. Unsaid words he wasn't ready to reveal to you, something that had broken you apart one, and then led him back to you, into his warmth.
“Finnick-" It was a hidden tone that terrified you. What had he been keeping locked behind those honey-dripping, sweet-talking lips for so long? When would he hand you the golden encrusted key to his secrets?
“Come on you need to get dressed, angel. You have impressions to make.” He didn't want to talk about it, he knew when you were trying to pry and wasn't ready to reveal what he kept hidden. You did need to get ready though, today was District 7, the allies you'd had to betray. Just the thought of it made you want to retreat further into the warmth of the bed, the blankets, of his arms but he was unwrapping himself from you without another word.
Maybe if he couldn't tell you were trying to make him reveal things he would be slower and gentler about preparing you for what lay ahead, but he didn't want to stare into your pleading eyes and spill his secrets. Which is why he'd torn himself from your love in the first place.
"Stay on the script, you did what you had to do to survive. Charm, but it's not the families you're doing it for, it's them.” Them, the Capitol, eagerly awaiting your filmed performance. You nodded as Finnick wrapped his robe around himself. He made no eye contact as he left the train car and you felt yourself running cold. You were alone again, with your thoughts, soon your Capitol assigned team of designers would be here to dress you up like a paper doll.
You were frail and delicate, but lethal when it came down to it. Your tears were iconic for fragile femininity, but manipulation to win against those with stronger senses. An image you still needed to abide by, even if you'd rather lay down and fall into your head for eternity, punishing yourself for it all.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
There he stood, face firm as he readied the hatchet to slice straight through your brain.
“Birch, you don't really want me dead. We don't have to turn on each other, we can talk about it." You reasoned, tears brimming your eyelids.
“Why? Like how you were planning to talk to him about it too?" Birch nodded to the lifeless body nearby.
“He attacked me!" You defended, that would be the argument. The sweet tribute who had such a big heart, but did what she needed to survive.
“Because he knew you were trying to use him, sorry we couldn't all fall for your charms. All of us have homes, families to go back to. Of course I don't want you dead, but they need me.” He was pleading too and if you looked hard enough you could swear he was about to cry. Before you could say another word the hatchet flew from his hand and you dodged it just in time. Birch began sprinting towards you. If he got his arms around you there was no doubt he could snap your neck in a split second. His strength was one of the reasons he was such a good pick to ally with.
You were unsteady on your feet as you ran away, fumbling for something to throw, to block his advances. The hatchet had lodged itself into the ground not far from you, he knew you were going for it and the adrenaline was speeding him up. You grabbed it, stumbling forward as soons as it was within your grasp, turning forward. He was so close and paused a second. You'd be more dangerous close by then at a distance now, he'd helped you practice throwing different weapons in training which you were decent at. Decent enough to be a threat, decent enough that he regretted it, decent enough that you regretted it too, using his kindness to win against him.
But this was all too slow, he needed to either win or lose. So he gave up on the reason and barreled forward. You barely had enough time to think as you pounded forward as well, slicing into him, not deep enough to kill, but enough to injure, for him to stumble back a second. You didn't have time to take a second and thrusted the hatchet straight into his chest, definitely deep enough to kill. The sight of the blood trickling down his bottom lip as he fell backward blurred your vision. She was still left, you didn't have time to feel guilty yet you did.
“Mom, Laurel-” He choked out before he went completely stiff and the cannon rang out. Flashes of his mom and his little, 10 year old sister, shivering and shaking by her mother and his image stared with cold eyes at you. Giving your grand speech about his bravery and next thing you knew you were screaming.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
“Hey, hey it's okay. You're not there, you're right here. I've got you." Warm hands shook your shoulders as you woke with sobs wracking through your body.
That's the problem you thought your mind was racing awake, he had people to take care of you had selfishly picked your family over his, over all of there's.
“I know, I know, I've got you." Finnick enveloped you within his arms as you let your tears streak down his shoulder.
“How am I supposed to look at them, Finnick? How am I supposed to congratulate them for their child’s bravery when I took their babies away from them?” Your voice was creaky and louder than you'd expected.
He pulled you off his shoulder, facing you, his sea green eyes pouring into yours. “With a smile, this isn't about them, or for them. This is for Snow, you're still playing the game. I can't tell you it gets better, but you have to remember he's watching and you need to follow his rules." You nodded robotically, the old Finnick would have comforted you more. But, this Finnick was still recovering too and he was doing his job as a mentor. Keeping you safe from the vultures and their outrage if you didn't play the Capitol’s Princess good enough.
“Can you stay?" You whispered, even though he always did.
“Of course, angel." He pressed his warm lips to your forehead, engulfing you within his arms. You lay with him knowing if you fell back asleep with images of her family would echo within your soul, haunting your dreams. Finnick would ground you back, his comfort would stop you from screaming in the real world, keep your protected, but not the flashes of what you'd done. “You need to sleep, you have to do it all again tomorrow."
“I know." You wiped down a stray tear streaking down your face. He looked serene in the moonlight glow even if his eyes spoke a different tale. One of worry, one wondering how much longer until the waterfall poured himself out to you. “Finnick, I know things aren't the same between us, they haven't been, and I don't know if you even want them to be. But please, please don't ever leave me. I need you, to keep me from just floating completely away. To remind me why I won."
Your choppy voice broke his heart even more, he didn't know how much longer he could do this to you. He wanted to be as he had been for you, but the chains bore too heavy right now. There was too much on your plate to add more brutality to it.
“I would never even consider it, angel. I felt selfish for it, but you keep me grounded too. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you." His voice was softer than usual, wasn't as teasing, it was so pure, so lost.
“You're not selfish, Finnick. I know you've always just wanted to keep me safe, even if I don't know from what and you can tell me in your own time. I'll wait for you to come back to me."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. You were so sweet, so in need of his protection. He couldn't let them do to you as they did to him, but there was nothing he could do to protect you except keep it away as long as possible.
“You need to try and rest, sweet girl." You hummed in response, knowing that wouldn't happen.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
“Just you and me then." Her voice was always so rich, accented and friendly but strong. It was like dark chocolate, with a hint of caramel and raspberries. But now, it was exhausted. You'd trusted her more then anyone else, related to her even if your tactics were different. Even when the men had tried to split up as if it was District against District. Really they'd just been trying to get the two “weaker" girls out of the way so they could fight it out amongst themselves. Marlowe had been much too smart for that though. She'd fled from Birch the moment she sensed his demeanor change.
You'd both silently hoped the other would be dead, so that it wouldn't come to this. You and Marlowe fighting for your lives, your families, all as a silly little dance, a pageant for the rich.
“Just you and me." You repeated back, voice so soft it could be caught in the wind and drift away, feathery.
“I'd say we should just split up and wait to see who dies out first, but we both know you're much more popular than I am." She smirked with sadness twinging her features.
“They like you, Marlowe. You're fierce."
She laughed harshly, “So are you, but you've balanced it out. Anyways I'm sure if we did do that they'd send something out for us. It's all for the show, isn't it?" Marlowe wouldn't cry but you could feel the exasperation, the anger, the tears that would never spill in her wavering voice. “Isn't it?" She shouted into the sky. You could tell she was giving up in a sense, not scared of angering the Capitol. But that didn't mean she wasn't still a threat, if anything her wrath made her more of a danger in the moment. So as she started into the sky you made a run for it, grabbing the spear left by Conway. Oh, Conway.
There was no time to dwell on Conway or Birch. Right now you need to focus on your plan, gaining the upper hand. You needed to be in the water. Which wouldn't be hard, this was a marshland after all. Spear in hand you ran as fast as you could, enough distance would give you enough time to think of a more solid plan. Marlowe shouted your name, but you ran until your legs tumbled into the warm water, sweat ran down your face as the mugginess clung to your skin. You whipped around to where her footsteps headed towards you, gripping for dear life onto that spear.
“Was this your plan all along? That's what Birch always said, you'd play the part of a darling, of a ready to cry her heart out sweetheart just to stab us all in the back, especially with that training score.” She shook her head, dismayed. " But I get it, I really do. This is what they do, pin us against each other. If you wanted me to die you would have thrown that at me, but you haven't. But I can still win this thing.” The tears were burbling up again and before you could throw the spear into her she'd tackled you from the side.
Your lungs filled with the muddy water and you gasped for air that wasn't there. How ironic it would be, you ran for the water to have the upper hand and it would be the end of you. Your grasp had loosened on the spear and you desperately tried to find it in the water. Your arms failed, you kicked forward, but Marlowe was just as strong as Birch would have been. For a second you were able to lift your face out of the water and take a gasp of air before her hands plunger you back into uncomfortably warm water.
You saw images of Finnick, how disappointed he would be in you. How heart wrenchingly broken he would be to know he pushed you away to ‘protect you’ and there you were dead in the dirty marsh water. You wanted him back desperately, for him to trust you again, let you back within the walls of his mind. Suddenly your hands finally wrapped around the spear you'd been desperately searching for. With all the energy you had left in you, eyes searching through the murky water you aimed as much as you could.
Suddenly her rough fingers holding you down loosened and you forced yourself up, gasping for air. Hands still on the handle of the spear and you felt the warmth of a thicker liquid falling down on you. Straight from her neck, you'd gone straight through her throat. The cannon rang out, a voice proclaimed you the victor of the annual Hunger Games, but all you could do was bawl. Mumbled apologies, she didn't deserve this, nobody did.
Pictures of her mother and father glaring into you for taking away their only baby as you announced your loyalty to the righteousness of Panem. You weren't screaming yourself awake.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Finnick hasn't fallen back to sleep, but your sniffles and the feeling of your hot tears on his arms made him glad he hadn't. That he could be here for you when you woke up once again, needing to know there would be no more death. Other things like ahead, but there would be no more arena.
“Angel, it's okay. Let it out, I'm here for you." He spoke with so much confidence that your drowsy self simply nodded as you cried and tucked yourself into his arms even more.
“Finnick?" You mumbled out through your groggy mind and tear filled throat.
“Yes, my love?" Even when your vision was blurred he looked ethereal, a god send in your time of need.
“Can you just tell me something happy, just whisk me away, please?" Finnick kissed the top of your head.
“Of course." The begging way you said it, pumped his veins with guilt. He's been too harsh, too much of a realist. Which wasn't how your relationship operates, he couldn't just talk to you like a mentor when you'd always meant so much more than that.
“Angel, after we get through this we're going to live in a beautiful house overlooking the beach. I'll annoy you but dragging you out to fish-” He began before you interrupted him.
“You could never annoy me, Finnick." You said softly and he pressed his finger to your lips.
“Shhhh, just listen and rest. I'll annoy you and boss you around it, as you like to say. I'll collect sea glass to make you beautiful things, we'll dance in the sand, and every second I'll think about your hands in mind, your soft hair wrapped in my fingers, your lips on mine. We’ll be so drunk on our own pleasure all of this will be a figment of your imagination, I'll cook for you, and we'll get dressed up to go nowhere before we just end up swimming the night away." Maybe he was lying maybe if Snow had his way it would break you like it had broken him, but maybe with your kindhearted way you'd simply build him back up and your bond would be stronger than ever.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Sorry this is so long, but I left out so much I was thinking about. Especially about the games so maybe there'll be a part two if y'all want. Thanks for reading, likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated.
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deandoesthingstome · 1 year
Text
Forest Fantasy
Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader
Summary: There's a new hotel in town. It can't possibly be what it's advertised as, can it?
Word Count: 6.5K
Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, cunnilingus, p in v (missionary and doggy style), monster fucking (right?).
A/N: I was considering waiting until Oct, but it's a fucking Super Moon tonight so let's gooooo.....!!!!!
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When The Fantasy Hotel opened up in town, you scoffed at first. "What’s with this name? What kind of depravity is this? Why can't folks just fuck in their own homes?" you thought to yourself. “At least they have someone to fuck. Why must they flaunt their relationships in my face this way?”
But then you heard the whispers. The suggestions. The innuendos. A few of your online friends, who know you'd been through a dry spell for some time now, had been asking if you'd given any thought to trying it out and you were...confused. They wouldn't say outright what they'd heard about the place, but curiosity got the better of you. 
You opened the incognito browser and typed the hotel name and were...shocked. Shocked at the images and the rave reviews. This hotel wasn't strictly for couples. As a matter of fact, it was designed for singles. And you shut your laptop quickly, convinced this wasn't for you and worried what your anonymous, online friends must think of you. You broached the subject delicately, so as not to offend in case maybe they didn't really know what they were asking about.
MNstrluvr: Come on. You've read the fics. You've liked and commented. Are you really saying you weren't into it? The idea of it?
sendmeanangel: I was sucked in by the phenomenal writing. You know me. I read anything if it's told well, descriptive, immersive, get you out of your head.
darkgothnightengale: This is THAT. But IRL. You're fucking lucky they picked your town to open the first one. You HAVE to try it and tell us how it is!!!
sendmeanangel: Have you seen the prices?
darkgothnightengale: We chipped in.
sendmeanangel:...
MNstrluvr: Come on! We're dying to know first hand from someone we actually know. Please. For science!
It took a few more gentle prods and pokes, with promises of no jokes unless you gave specific permission. And under NO CIRCUMSTANCES were your friends allowed to post anything that even vaguely alluded to the fact that you were trying the place out. Private DMs and Super Private Chat Room discussions only.
Your visit was booked. You opted for a brief stay only. Two hours. You couldn't bring yourself to book a longer stay and the theme you selected was one that allowed for less than full evenings. It was also the only slot available on the day you were able to ask off work. 
You showered and primped, pampering yourself with your favorite body wash and lotion, knowing how good it made you feel to be fresh and clean and smelling delicious. You checked your clothes and your makeup in the full length mirror by your apartment door, opting not to change for the fiftieth time since stepping out of the shower. A few final items stuffed into your travel satchel and the large floppy hat on your head you'd bought specifically to hide your face as you made your way into the hotel and you were off for your adventure, trepidation buzzing around your insides and threatening to derail your purpose.
Your friends had paid and you figured you were already past a normal hotel refund window, so paying them back would mean picking up a few extra shifts on top of your already hectic university schedule. Besides, you didn't want to disappoint them. They were so curious to know if the stories that were starting to pop-up on Tumblr did any justice to the experience. You really couldn’t imagine this was anything more than some extremely well put together costumes and perhaps use of silicon implements, which had you really wondering about sanitation, but whatever.
The cab pulled up at the hotel entrance and a petite woman with a pixie cut stepped forward to open the door and help you out. She gave a warm smile with no hint of derision or teasing about the hat as she welcomed you sincerely and led you through the front doors, depositing you at the registration desk.
"Enjoy your stay!" she beamed at you, with a conspiratorial wink before heading back out to, you assumed, await the next guest.
You called out a thanks after her, then turned to the front desk attendant, who welcomed you by name.
"You have the only check in slot at this time," he answered your unspoken question with a kind smile. "We stagger arrival on purpose to ensure privacy for our guests. Especially first time visits. We have you booked in the Deep Forest Suite for the next two hours, and it looks like you requested the basket add on. That will be waiting for you in the room. Since it is your first time, we just need you to sign a few waivers and I'll run through the hotel safety rules for you. A copy has also been sent to your email, if you want to check them during your stay. But also, rest assured, your host is well versed and knows exactly how to keep you safe. You are in good hands here, I promise."
Every word spoken carefully and with respect, every inflection designed to put your worries at ease. If you had butterflies going in, you'd never know it now. You had taken notice of the lush and inviting lobby, dark wood furniture covered in rich velvet, chandeliers and wall sconces casting a warm glow around you. There was nothing menacing or untoward, nothing like you had expected, even after seeing the interior photos online. You'd experienced marketing ploys before. This wasn't glue disguised as milk or fries on toothpicks to stand up straight in the box or a long angle shot of the tiniest pool ever. Everything so far was exactly as depicted and you were impressed.
Then you remembered the photo of your host and had to swallow hard. You had assumed it was a doctored image, maybe some unique lighting to draw attention. But if the decor was real, then maybe he was too. The rules were oddly specific for an experience with a guy in a costume.
Maybe everything you had assumed about the nature of this hotel was wrong. 
"Everything okay?" the clerk asked with a furrowed brow. "Is there something worrisome about the rules?"
"Oh. No. No everything is fine. I'm just..." you trailed off. Nervous wasn't the right word. Nor were you embarrassed, as you thought you would be. The door attendant, the desk clerk...neither had made you feel anything but welcome and safe and not self-conscious at all.
"It's perfectly reasonable to feel a little apprehension your first time. If it makes you feel better, you should know: you actually can opt out at any time. We do have to retain a portion of the room fee, but a partial refund is available. Should you change your mind."
"That's nice to know, thank you. I think I'll be okay."
"Then let's get you to your room,” he clapped his hands together with a mirth. “427. Elevator is down the hall and there are directional signs, but I'm happy to escort you if you'd like."
"I think I'll manage, but thank you."
As he placed the key in your possession and sent you on your way, the reality sunk in a little deeper. Weighed down by the heavy iron key in your hand as you rode the elevator to the fourth floor and stepped down the hall to your room, you could no longer deny what was about to occur.
You were headed into the wolf's den.
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The door unlocked with a satisfying click as you turned the iron key. You were transported to a lush forest setting when you stepped into the room. Or as close as you could get indoors, anyway. A carpet of deep, soft green lay on the floor beneath your feet, and you immediately slipped out of your shoes to feel the cool material on your skin. It was impossibly silky, smooth, and comforting.
Large potted fir and pine plants lined the walls and stood in corners. At least a few held miniature deciduous trees and some with limbs stretching across the ceiling. You finally let your eyes fall on the chunky, four-poster bed, the legs, head- and foot-boards crafted of smooth finished logs you might find in a high-end cabin or ski chalet and covered in a thick feather mattress wrapped in luxurious blankets and piled high with pillows.
A picnic basket sat prim and proper on the coffee table nestled between two plump, overstuffed chairs and you had just reached out to peek beneath the deep red cloth when the door closed softly behind you and a throat cleared.
"I hope I haven't startled you."
You turned and gasped as you took in the sight of one of the largest, and, for lack of a better description because your brain was starting to fail you, manliest men you'd ever set eyes on. His photograph might have been deceptive, but only because it didn't do him justice. He wore a thick, blue cable knit sweater and dark gray cargo pants that seemed to mold around his thighs. He was barefoot, which surprised you a little, but then who were you to judge at the moment?
You caught his smirk as you lifted your gaze to appreciate the rugged beard and full head of chocolate curls that framed his face, offsetting mesmerizing blue eyes.
"I'm Walter," he offered you his hand as he spoke your name with a gentle growl. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"You're not..." you stopped yourself, suddenly embarrassed at how eager you'd found yourself. "Forgive me. That may have been a rude way to start."
"It's okay," he chuckled. "This isn't the form you signed up for, but I've found it more enjoyable to at least meet in this state. If I bounded in here all claws and snarls, we wouldn't have a chance to speak first. And I prefer to have at least a quick chat, if that's okay with you."
"It's fine," you whispered, your throat dry though your mouth was watering.
Walter stepped past you and reached a large mitt into the basket to pull out a bottle of water.
"Would you like to talk with me a bit?" he asked, offering you the bottle. Your eyes lingered on the basket, though, curious what else might be in there. The amenity said “Fantasy Basket”, so it could have just been a riff on the hotel name, but still, you had assumed…
“Did you not get a chance to peek before I arrived?” he asked as you took a sip of water.
“No. Do you know what’s in there?”
“I do,” another chuckle, deeper and darker than before. “Do you want to know now, or later?”
“We don’t have a lot of time, do we?” you asked, suddenly aware and mentally kicking yourself for thinking you didn’t need more than a few hours to get the lay of the land. Literally, you snorted at your internal joke.
“Something funny?”
“Lay of the land,” you replied with a grin and as he laughed with you, you caught sight of his canines. They seemed a little longer than when you saw them in his first grin. At the moan that slipped from your throat, he darkened again.
“That it will be.”
You gasped and squeezed your thighs, clenching at the reverberation in his voice. Something had changed from even just the moment before when he’d entered the room. Aside from the physical appearance, you sensed a shift in the air, something wavering in the ether around you. A heat crept from your core to your cheeks, through your spine and settled into your chest. You were breathless.
“How do we…um, how does this start?”
“We’ve already started, haven’t we?” he replied, a little mysteriously. “Sit with me?”
What made you drop to the floor beneath you instead of onto the comfortable looking seat, you couldn’t say, but here you were resting back on your heels as you took another drink of water from the glass bottle in your hand.
“I was going to suggest the chairs, but if you prefer the ground, I’m happy to say I do too.”
Walter stepped forward and lowered himself to the ground beside you, one knee splayed wide and almost touching yours, the other knee bent with an elbow draped over it as he leaned toward you. You could swear you caught him sniffing the air.
“I don’t know what to say,” you spoke with caution, suddenly overwhelmed. The day was just becoming a series of flip-flops in your mind as you imagined yourself, sometimes bold and determined to experience what you could, then timid and nervous as the reality overcame you. Once at ease and open, now shy and reserved.
“That’s okay,” Walter replied. “The better for me to begin.”
Why did that sound like such a familiar phrase? You took another drink and nodded for him to continue.
“I’d like to continue our time together by undressing you, one way or another. You have a choice, which you can leave to me if you’d like. I can do it now, in this form,” he paused, cocked his head to one side, then the other as he cracked his neck. “Or I can shift, in your presence or not, and do it that way.”
What did he mean by “shift”? Surely, he must mean change. As in undress and don a mask. But then you remembered his teeth, somehow longer. And you thought about the subtle way the atmosphere seemed to shimmer and transport you and you wondered if he really did mean “shift.’
“That sounds like two choices,” you whispered and caught his grin, canines even longer than before.
“Perceptive. I like it. Need a few moments?”
“What happens after I’m…I mean, I know what happens, I guess… but just, like, how…” you trailed off, not really sure what you were asking.
“We’re playing a game here, really. That’s all. It can be as simple or intricate as you’d like, though, you’re right. Our time is ticking away.”
“You do it.” You rushed, barely letting him finish his response. 
“Here or…?”
“I’ll close my eyes.” The thought of watching his shift, though intriguing, also made you wonder if it would make you more nervous than you already suddenly found yourself again. Maybe it was better to just jump in and get started, as much as you were also enjoying speaking with Walter in his human form. 
“Why don’t you take the basket into the bathroom? Pick out whatever intrigues you for use and come out when you’re ready. I’ll shift before you return. Sound okay?”
You nodded and he helped you to stand, then handed you the basket and gently urged you toward the bathroom door. Before he let go of your arm, he stepped in close, slipping his hand over yours and pressing it to his chest as he tugged you toward him. 
“Do you mind if I give you one kiss this way before we meet next? You can say no, but it’s nice, I think, a good way to gauge your interest.”
Did he somehow think you weren’t interested? How had you hidden the drool from him? You’d been too quiet, clearly. Mesmerized by everything that had happened already in such a short time and you’d lost your voice, unable to truly communicate your desire. You were ruining everything, obviously.
“I’d like to kiss you very much,” you admitted, peering up into his eyes, which you now noticed were not the 100% blue you’d originally thought. Was this man really about to change shape? Did it matter? It didn’t matter in the least as far as how well he could kiss you, because while you were contemplating the genetics of the man in front of you, he was leaning down to capture your lips in what started as a chaste, closed mouth peck that grew steadily more intense as you felt his free arm slip up your back to settle a hand against the nape of your neck while yours slipped around his waist and urged him closer, as if you were guided by some unknown force. You felt his tongue lick along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to him as if you’d known him your whole life.
With your hand still pressed against his sternum, you could feel his heart beat faster as each second passed and the kiss grew more heated. When he pulled away you actually whined.
“I’m glad to see you are interested,” he teased with a grin before he spun you toward the door again and pressed you inside. “Now hop on in and don’t take too long. I want to treat you for as long as I can.”
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The bathroom was just as sumptuous as the main room. A dark tiled shower took up one entire wall of the room and you couldn’t tell if the color was black or just the deepest forest green you’d ever seen. Instead of a curtain or sliding door, a glass panel separated the shower from the rest of the room with an opening opposite the brass water valves to step in. What you imagined must be a rain shower head jutted out from the ceiling. You didn’t want to waste any more of your precious time, but wondered if there’d be any left to enjoy this shower when all was said and done. The rest of the bathroom fixtures and amenities would have to wait for inspection, since you needed to pay attention to your basket. You set it on the veined marble counter and finally lifted the cloth completely off. 
Only the cloth wasn’t exactly a cloth. It was a cape, tucked neatly on top of a few more bottles of water, a small loaf of bread, some cut cheeses and fruit in a covered bowl. And that was it for the tame picnic items.
You pulled a short, white peasant dress trimmed in lace and a red apron with black satin ribbon criss-crossing the front out of the basket, along with what appeared to be a pair of black fishnet stockings and thought of Walter’s comments. Were you expected to change or only if you wanted this part of the experience? Finally, you noticed a few heavy leather straps and as you pulled them from the basket you realized they must be meant as restraints, but for whom? You or him? You also noticed a distinct lack of silicon implements.
You heard a rustle of some sort outside the bathroom door, reminding you that Walter was waiting and time was fleeting and you really needed to make a decision about how you wanted to enter the room again. Walter had suggested you take the basket with you. And he was going to be … different when you saw him again, wasn’t he? And you had asked him to undress you. Maybe he anticipated that undressing would be … vigorous. What if this costume was meant for that? You had brought a change of clothes but didn’t think you’d be leaving here with one less outfit in your already sparse wardrobe.
Your mind made up, you stripped quickly and donned the outfit, amazed at how simple the apron was to slip over your head, then pull the satin ties tight with your own hand. You always imagined an intricate article of intimate clothing like this would take so much more effort. Maybe it would be something you’d feel comfortable and confident enough to do outside this hotel someday.
For now, you were drawn back into the moment with a thud on the door and a low growl that sounded like “Come out.”
You finished dressing, wrapping the cape around your neck and drawing up the hood. You still weren’t wearing shoes, so you could feel the ground through the wide gaps of the fishnets as you stepped back into the room, picnic basket on your arm. It felt different. More uneven. Crunchy leaves crackled beneath as you stepped onto what now felt like real grass, fading to dirt, fading to ground littered with pine needles and dry leaves. Ferns peaked out from the tree trunks. And a supermoon shone overhead.
This was not your room. It was on the other side of the bathroom door, to be fair, but this was not the room you’d stepped into 20 minutes ago. And yet, how could it be anything but? A twig snapped to your left and drew your attention as you realized you didn’t see Walter. You’d thought he’d be right outside the door, waiting for you, maybe in a chair, maybe on the bed. But you didn’t see him, only his clothes folded neatly on the table where your picnic basket had been. Suddenly, you felt a rush of air next to you.
“What are you doing here, little one?”
You had a hard time deciding what to focus on as the words were spoken. The actual choice of the words themselves, which harkened back to that story that drifted through the tendrils of your mind, whispering “You know me?” Or the rough, low way those words tumbled from him, hungry and full of want. Was this the game?
“Your voice sounds so strange, Walter. Is everything okay?” you asked, plucking the words from the cobwebs in your head.
“I think I just swallowed some water wrong.”
You took a deep breath and turned, ready to catch him, ready to see. He was glorious and you were awestruck. It took a few moments of taking in the sight of his body, arms slightly elongated, up on the balls of his feet, hair that looked like chocolate silk covering his body but not in a way that you couldn’t see the tone and definition of his skin underneath, nose and mouth pulled forward, ears up. Ears up.
“Walter, what big ears you have,” you cooed, reaching up to touch them, though waiting for the assent in his eyes. When you could see he would allow it, you brushed your fingers along the back side, then scratched a little in the crease where they met his head and he closed his eyes for a moment. His eyes.
“Walter, what big eyes you have,” your voice a bit lower, sultry, as if the confidence you’d lost earlier had found its way back to you. He opened them and you’d have sworn sparks flew as his deep blue eyes pierced yours before you saw him drag his gaze over your face, down your neck, back and forth between your breasts, unfortunately still covered. He must have felt the same because he didn’t linger on the clothes, but when he reached your thighs, clad in the black hose he snarled, baring his sharp teeth. Sharp teeth.
“Walter,” you teased. “What big teeth you have.”
“The better to eat you with, my dear,” he growled and pounced, swatting the picnic basket to the ground before lifting you by the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder. He only needed a few steps before he could toss you back onto the plump bed. Your cape hood dropped off your head and your dress skirt hiked up a little, but not like it mattered. 
Walter was between your legs, nudging your thighs wide with his own as he folded himself over you, arms caging your head. With a snarl, he began to nuzzle down your neck, sniffing along the way.
“You smell good,” he grunted as he drew a paw over your chest. “Smelled you from the moment I walked in the room, but I wanted to be closer. Like this.”
You peered down towards his hand and noticed the sharp claw of what should be an index finger drawn back and ready to slice through the black satin down your breast. The apron draped to your sides as easily as you’d put it on, practically one handed, and it was gone now. You didn’t really care if the white dress met the same fate as the apron, but the cape was quality. Surely there was no need to ruin it. You reached to untie the bow at your neck just as Walter sliced easily through the front of the dress. The rip as he reared back and grabbed a side of split fabric in both hands to finish the job was satisfying. 
Since you’d decided to just leave off the bra and panties for the sake of time, you were now left like an unwrapped package on the bed, intricately woven stretchy black thread the only thing sitting between you and Walter. Your chest was heaving and so was his. And since he was now up on his knees instead of bent over you, you had a chance to glance away from his face toward his hips and you had to bite your lip. 
He was huge. Like, possibly not gonna fit huge. He must have seen the hesitation on your face.
“Don’t worry,” came the sound as he dropped back off the bed, knelt on the floor, hooked his arms under your thighs, and tugged you to the edge of the bed. You felt his nuzzle against the skin of your belly, the warm, wet air of his exhale trailing down your side, into the crook of your thigh, and finally settling right on top of your cunt. He was so deft as he slipped a finger into your slit, then cut the thread between your legs as he pulled the finger free, widening the hole to give him greater access.
The noises you made could absolutely be interpreted as nothing other than consent, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t stop, as the contract said he could if he had any doubt about your permission. There could be no doubt.
“Please, don’t stop. Put your mouth on me. Make me cum.”
There was the slightest of huffs, as if he was smiling the briefest of victory smiles, before his assail began. It was measured, it was slow, it was a thorough gathering of information. It was infuriating. As you were about to open your impatient mouth and remind him that the clock was ticking the minutes away, like the insufferable bitch she was, he shifted tactics.
Every little nuance he’d taken note of, every amount of pressure and length of lick that produced some desired effect was now fortified. This was the only thing he did. And at a brisker rate, as if he’d calculated the pleasure you’d derived at the low speed and determined the exponential pleasure you’d get from the real speed. 
They had not put mathematical genius in his bio, but here you were getting eaten alive better than anyone had ever done it before. And you dared say, maybe after. This could get expensive.
When you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were afraid the remaining time had to be expired because you kept awakening from mind bending bliss to find him still lapping and sucking at your pussy as if he just got started and how long had it been, my gods, you grabbed hold of the curly hair around his head and tugged as you begged.
“Stop. Stop,” you were breathless. “Walter, please stop. It’s so good. It’s too good. I don’t want you to stop but we have to stop. My time must be up, I have to go.”
His laugh wasn’t cruel, but it was sinister “We have time. Don’t worry. I made sure.”
You didn’t dare look at the clock. Your gaze was locked into his anyway, whites of his eyes replaced by a deep, lustful red. He held your stare while dragging his tongue and snout along your heated skin.
He slipped an arm under your waist, tugging your torso in one direction as he stepped a hind leg up to nudge your hips in the other. He settled in between your legs once he had you parallel to the edge of the bed. You threw your arms over your head as he caressed your outer thigh, coaxing it around his waist while bending to savor the scent you'd released for him. When he was satisfied, he moved again to climb over your body.
You were aching for him, arching into the heat radiating from the closeness of his form. As you reached for his neck to pull him even closer, you realized why he'd kissed you before the turn. It would be awkward now to put your mouth on his. The shape didn't lend itself to an easy slotting of lips against one another, though you yearned for the recent memory.
As if he could sense your desire, he leaned in and nuzzled against your neck, behind your ear, then along your throat. He pushed your chin up with his muzzle to bare your pulse to him and then he nipped.
You whimpered at the sensation and even as he licked to soothe it, he did it again, a little harder, just shy of breaking skin.
"Please," you begged, eager to feel the power, though you knew it was strictly forbidden and you trusted he did as well.
His growl was full of bravado, as if he was proud to have you begging him to break the rules.
"You wanna get me in trouble?" Walter grumbled in your ear as he ran his paws up and down your body, dragging his claws carefully over your skin. He snarled when they snagged on the stockings and looked to you for approval before he tore them away from your legs completely.
"If you can't bite me, then at least mate me," you pleaded, knowing full well he couldn't do that either but you were too far gone to care. It would at least get him thinking about sinking his cock in you one way or another.
He reached for the drawer of the heavy wooden night stand and produced a few foil packets, dropping all but one on the bedside table and handing you the last, prompting an eyebrow raised in question from you. His response was measured, as if he struggled to control something deep inside.
"You have another choice to make," he began with a low rumble as he sought understanding in your eyes. "I can't mate you directly and I'm sure you know that. I have access to...toys, equipment that would allow you to feel that sensation, but it won't be me. If instead, you're willing to use protection with me, I will gladly fill you up."
If he wouldn't go bare, so be it. He wiggled his claws as you attempted to hand him the packet, sure you'd make a debacle of trying to sheath the monster between his legs.
"Just to be safe, you'd better do it. These are pretty sharp. That ok?" he grunted at you in question.
You nodded and scooted out from under him, up the bed so you had a little leverage. He kept a knee on the mattress as he stood tall from his other hind leg still on the floor and waited for you to tear the package and roll the condom down his cock.
"Is there anything special I need to do to make it fit?" you asked, vaguely aware of how ridiculous the question sounded but eager nonetheless to get past this part and onto the one where Walter would be deep inside you, filling every inch, stroking every wall. You'd already seen the size, but forgotten your initial trepidation thanks to the glorious head he'd given you.
Surely, no standard drugstore rubber would cover it. His huff was kind, and you could swear you saw the twinkle of a smile in his eyes as he answered.
"We bring them in special. They're designed for a ... more substantial, and sometimes even exotic, need. But if you know how to use one, you know how to use them all. Still alright?"
You nodded with a smile, and set to work, letting the heft and feel of his member draw you back into your haze of lust and desire now that logistics were out of the way. You worked the rubber over his girth and found yourself imagining what it would be like to have him split you in two. You couldn't wait and he could tell.
"So eager," he grumbled as he grasped your shoulders and eased you onto your back.
You thought about trying to tame your excitement, but to what end? For a brief moment the thought that you surely didn't have much more time left flitted through your mind and then you let the excitement and anticipation take over.
"Please take me now," you begged and captured the side of your lower lip with your teeth as you once again pictured the incoming pleasure.
"If anything feels uncomfortable, you can tell me to stop," he murmured in your ear as he lowered himself over you. "Say 'woodsman' and I stop. Understood?"
He pulled back to find your reply and when he had his confirmation he didn't hold back any further. As if no time had passed between when he had coaxed so much moisture from your core and now, you were still dripping for him when he grabbed ahold of his thick member and placed the tip at your entrance.
Any other man would have slid in easily, but Walter wasn't any other man and he knew it. Once the tip breached your aching pussy, he carefully nudged a knuckle alongside, pressing in and loosening the way. You spread your legs wider for him and willed your walls to relax, though they wouldn't.
Remembering what he said during the exchange about the condom, you pulled a hand off his shoulder, down his furry chest, and in between your bodies, reaching for the spot where you were connected. The growl he let out when he realized what you were doing was invigorating and spurred you on.
You watched him bend his head down so he could take in the sight of you stroking him a few times before you began to massage the folds at your entrance. You let your fingers tease your clit and when you couldn't stand it any longer, a time which you were sure had already passed, you split your index and middle finger and gently coaxed your opening wider.
As he felt the ease, Walter sank ever deeper until he was bottomed out and pressed as far in as he could. You saw stars, immediately, and loosened even more, coating him with warmth and juices that helped his movements.
In another time, with another man, that may have been it. Most men, if they even took the time to draw an orgasm from you through the missionary position, would collapse in almost relief as soon as you came, spending their load and ending the night then and there.
But you'd already established Walter was no mere man. He took your sigh as his cue to help you feel that way again and again. And when he couldn't tear another orgasm from you in this position, no matter how hard he pumped or how high he got your legs over his head, he pulled out and flipped you to all fours and slammed back in from behind, eager to wrench at least one last shout of pleasure from your lips before he spilled his seed in the condom and sent you to your belly with a slap on your ass as he withdrew from you entirely.
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"Am I charged extra for that?" you mustered the energy to ask once he'd returned from the bathroom. You peeled one exhausted eye open to see he was back to his human form, though still completely unclothed and you wondered if anyone was lucky enough to enjoy that experience as well.
"Sorry?" he asked, a quizzical look on his face.
"Does this place charge by the volume? Was there a limit to the number of orgasms allowed? I imagine it has to be like the extra mini-bar charges they tack onto your bill when you check out of any other hotel, right?"
His laugh was deep and infectious. It reverberated through the room and your chest as he climbed into the bed beside you with the bowl of cheese and fruit in one hand and the bread in the other.
"We don't have a limit. You can have as many as you want. Care for a snack? Get your energy back?” Walter took the time to feed you small bites while your boneless body slowly recovered.
"We have to be so far over my time limit. Am I about to turn into a pumpkin now?" you asked after swallowing a final bite of bread.
Walter laughed again and it warmed your heart. Maybe he was just a really good actor, but nothing so far had rang false, so why would he try to fake this? He thought you were funny.
"No, nothing so drastic. But if you do want to rinse off before checkout, you should get a move on. I could carry you if you're still not up to moving just yet?"
You nodded, and as if you weighed nothing, Walter lifted you from the bed and deposited you in the shower cabin, away from the shower head while he fiddled with the water faucet. Once the steam began to rise, he pulled you in with him and helped you lather up and rinse off, careful to keep your hair away from the spray as best he could. Then he dried you off with a fluffy towel and helped you dress in your extra set of clothes, before tucking the cape in your bag with your original outfit.
"It's part of the basket fee," he answered your unasked question with a ridiculous wink. "If you book it again, they'll give you a discount, but you'll have to remember to bring it with you."
As you stepped out of the bathroom, the room again appeared as it did when you first entered what felt like hours ago. Surely more than two. Walter could sense your confusion.
“The hotel has some special features we don’t actually advertise,” he offered, as he pulled on his pants. “We use them at our discretion, but it means you get an experience unlike others. This room, for example, truly can transform into a deep forest. And I like to stretch the time here, especially for newcomers. When you walk out into that hall, it’ll be two hours since your arrival. We’ve been here for longer though. But do me a favor, wouldja? Keep that to yourself?” 
You nodded and smiled, appreciative of his special treatment, then took one last look around the room to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything. Walter walked you to the door and gave you a final kiss goodbye.
“I do hope everything was to your satisfaction. Hopefully, you’ll come back sometime,” he grinned at you as you stumbled backwards down the hall, not wanting to turn away from his gorgeous face. You were absolutely going to figure out a way to pick up some extra shift and make your way back to this hotel again if it killed you.
Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:
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Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)
@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007
Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's a monster fucker lol!)
Werewolf!walter only (if you asked on the teaser):
@ellethespaceunicorn (hope this is okay! Tag me in whichever HC character werewolf you end up with!) @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!
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jolapeno · 4 months
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15. raspberry truffle
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter fifteen of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.1k chapter warnings: smut. 18+. jo's mirror love resurfaces and armchairs are used as more than things sat behind desks. lots of mouth to mouth resus. smut. also there's smut. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: I've had this image in my head for so long...
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“Do you trust me?”
It's a simple question. One he’s asked you time and time before, but never with the current look in his eye he’s currently wearing.
Dressed in a tight grey tee and a pair of black sweats. Hatless, teased curls frame his face as you rest against your counter. The one you’ve seen for the first time in some days.
It strikes you that the only reason you're standing in your home, to begin with, is because of the email informing you that some of your new furniture had been dispatched.
His mouth had been sealed to your neck, fingers grasping at your waist as you read it out, distracted, attention not entirely focused on him until his hand snaked between your legs, in his sheets, in his bed—the one you’d now found to be far more comfortable than your own—as he whispered, I can build it for you.
And, he did. Had done.
Putting his tool on the side as he rejoins you. A nominal irk bubbling through you that the toolbox it lives in is one foot away, it vanishing when he steps closer, presses you further against it. Cool, firmness meets your spine as his body corners you.
He looms in a way that makes your heart double as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. Deeply.
“Should I trust you, handsome?”
Snorting, his laugh fluttering over your lips. “I think you should.”
Lips pursing, narrowing your eyes teasingly, you feel his thumb sliding the fabric of your top up and down your hip bone.
“You are biased though.” His head lolls from side to side as he hums, fingers pinching at the bottom of your top. “Do you think I should because you built my chair?”
As soon as he slides his arm around your waist, your back arches. Chest desperate to be flush. Heart aching to be near to his.
“No. Because you love me.”
Sighing, nodding—all playful. A smirk just there, all beneath the surface. “Oh. That thing.”
Tracing his nose against yours, a smile trying to beam, but he mirrors how you hold back. “That thing.”
When he’s close like this, it’s almost criminal when you’re not kissing him. When you’ve not slanted your mouth against his soft lips, felt the roughness of the hair on his face against your palm, buried your fingers into his curls and pulled a little to earn that groan he does. The one, if it were a thing that could be possible, you’d love etched into your brain.
The thought of which makes you want to peel your clothes off.
Already so hungry for a thing you’ve been feasting at a buffet for the last number of days. Yet, still wanting, still needing.
“You really play a long game,” you say, more sweet. And his nose scrunches, frowning as you smirk. “Waiting this long, getting me to fall in love with you, and then killing me in my own office.”
“Oh yeah, I’m a mastermind.”
Laughing, you twirl a curl around your finger, finding the hair a little longer. “Okay,” you reply, sealing it to his lips, “I trust you—you get my blood on my new chair you’ve just built, I’m going to haunt you.”
“It’s not a punishment that you’d want to spend the rest of your days haunting me, Rainy.”
His hips dip, becoming aware of the effect you have on him too as his growing bulge rubs against your parted thighs. A moan escapes, body jolting at the welcome friction. The sound leaves so softly, barely loud enough to disrupt his mouth from being on yours.
But it does.
“Do you trust me?”
The four words repeated, answered hurriedly. No game, no tease.
His mouth comes close to your ear, a chaste kiss left along your hairline as his hand clutches your waist for stability, and you forget how to breathe.
“Close your eyes, baby.”
As you do, his fingers, clean and soft, all but sawdust stained, slide over your eyes—his chest to your back as he leads you down a familiar path that suddenly feels foreign. Trusting.
Your nose tunes in. Takes in the scent that is equivocally just him, one you’re thankful has begun seeping into your home as much as he has your heart. Hearing him whisper instructions, watch this, be careful, until you're body is shifted on its axis.
His fingers slide from your vision, allowing you to blink, see him, smiling at the sight of him.
“Fuck you’re handsome.”
Backing you up against the newly painted office wall, your arm hooks around his neck again, mouth ghosting over his as a hand hovers over your hip.
“Still trust me?”
Nodding, you feel his breath on your parted lips, before he slides his mouth over yours. Searing. Burning—all determined as his tongue slides past your teeth and his fingers slide up your neck, tracing your jaw. It makes you delirious. Dizzy. Thoughts nothing but lost to you until you glance past him and see it.
The built chair, in the nearly decorated office. The desk it should be behind is still a week out, but the chair, mirror and plants are all set up—the shelves adorned with bits you have for now.
“Hey?” he says, eyes snapping back to him.
Spotting the bubbling molten in his eyes, remembering how your body is aflame—
Then the next question comes. “Can I taste you, baby?”
Nodding, you whisper your answer into the air as he leads you, guides you all over again, moving you closer and more towards your new chair. Mouth latching itself to yours, palms on either side of your cheeks, before his hand steals the cushion, and throws it down.
“You look so beautiful, baby,” he whispers, trailing the words down your neck, along your collarbone.
It makes a gasp flutter from your lips, feeling your insides knot, likely dampening the fabric between your thighs, making nothing short of a mess—
“Gonna take these off, okay?”
Your tongue thickens in your head, swallowing a whimper at the feel of his thumbs hooking inside your shorts and slipping them down your thighs. The fabric skims, sliding, before they fall with a soft thud and he's guiding you to sit down in the armchair.
Taking a breath, you stare, captivated. Frankie sinking, kneeling before you on the cushion. “Part your legs for me.”
“Shit, Frankie.”
“Baby.”
Swallowing, you do. Then, it’s delicate, soft.
The gentlest of kisses up the inside of your thighs. Aware of the heat of his fingers pushing your knees further into the arms of the armchair, tuned into the way he exhales through his nose, cool air teasing over your already slick, cloth-covered pussy—the chair groaning when you buck your hips.
“Rainy.”
He grunts it. Low—warningly. It comes from a place in the back of his throat, grating and gravelly as he stares up at you. Nothing but brown dipped in more brown holding your gaze. Usually, it would make you smirk, but instead, you mumble an apology.
One that trails off; turns into a whine when he drags his tongue over the already-drenched fabric.
You’re not sure how it’s possible but you moan like you’ve been teased for hours. Sure that with a few more, you could be close—
“I want you to look in that mirror, and see how beautiful you look as I do this.”
“Frankie, I…”
His hand slides up, right between your still-covered breasts, before cupping your cheek, thumb under your jaw, eyes searching, sweeping and locating. “Look for me.”
Flicking your eyes to it, the ornate thing you’d not been sure you wanted until he’d slid his arms around your waist. Buried his face into your neck. Told you it was nice.
You’d agreed then, you most definitely did. Nodding, letting a little whispered okay escape as he nods. Staring, trying not to pick apart what you see in the reflection. The way your eyes look tired, skin not as bright as it normally would be. That is until he nips at your skin. Pulls your gaze from your own to the back of his head.
“Beautiful—”
“Frankie,” you sigh.
Hand coming over your face, heat blooming in your cheeks as you feel him kiss your inner knee. Thumb stroking at your skin, circling, before he taps. A silent request, a reminder: look at yourself.
You do.
“You are so beautiful, Rainy.” He dips his head—becoming aware of the finger sliding in the gusset of your plainest underwear, dragging the fabric, pulling it from your soaked core all the way to the side.
“I thought it when I first saw you.”
Air blowing across your core, before he places the most delicate, softest kiss against your swollen clit.
“Think it now, seeing you sat in your new chair, in your new office.”
You feel your chest heave, see it. Staring at the way the muscles strain in your neck from not moving, before he drags a long, slow stripe up from your aching hole to your nerves.
And he groans, low and dull. It vibrates against you before his tongue swipes again, hands pushing your inner thighs apart before he dives again. Sliding his tongue between your folds, licking, drawing.
He’s slow in his movements, measured. Delves as much of himself into you before wet, roaring heat swirls around and encases your clit as his growl sends flames up your spine.
That’s when he slides his fingers in. Curls them. Moves them in slow thrusts.
The whine of his name you let escape is sinful, practically unrecognisable. Your hips moving, unable to tear yourself away from staring at the way your mouth hangs open, panting, moaning, as you rock your hips, fuck yourself on his fingers, on his tongue, as you hope his other hand on your hip will leave a mark. Half moons or bruises, or even fucking both—
“Frankie, please.”
The angle of the mirror not only allows you to see the sight of him taking you apart, but how the act seemingly undoes him. How his shirt is stretched across his shoulder blades, how his muscles ripple under the thin fabric as you hold on to every thread as the pads of his fingers curl more into you. All come hither, beckoning the incoming wave you know is going to wash over the two of you.
And it turns you on.
“You like it, querida? Like watching yourself.”
“Like watching you.”
And you swear you feel him smirk as your hips lift, desperate for more, eyes speckled with spots as your nails grip the arm of the chair, the other lost and tangled in his curls.
It’s so good, so fucking good.
He’d make you confess, make you tell him everything—no matter the secret, you’re sure he could pull it from you like this. Have you spilling, as though he’s cracking you open, and even helping him translate the parts of you he’s yet to understand or know.
“So perfect squeezing around me, baby. Love how you taste—always taste so fucking good.”
Your back is off the chair, grinding into him, so close you can’t even think, can barely speak.
“Want you to come on my tongue, Rainy. Need you too.”
“Fuck.”
“That’s it. Let yourself feel good, baby. Use me, use—”
And you do.
Fuck. You do.
Your cry echoes and bangs around the walls before slamming into your ears. Legs shaking. Mind sludge as you come down from your high to his soothing touch, to his whispers, to his words that make you feel like you’re in heaven. Not just here, with his shoulders supporting your knees, but all the time.
It’s why you bring his mouth to yours. Messily, all disorientated from the high of him as you taste yourself on his mouth, on his tongue—the tang of what he’d done to you evidenced.
It makes you want, need.
You’re not sure how the two of you made it to the bedroom so cleanly.
His clothes are scattered, left in the hallway; a path that leads from one moment to the other. Your knees were likely bruised from how you dropped to them in the doorway, straddling the hallway and bedroom as you palmed him through his underwear, eyes wide, looking up.
“I love your cock, Frankie.” Hooking a finger in the band, dragging the fabric to his ankles, to the ground. “Like how heavy it feels on my tongue cock.”
Hand slowly wrapping around him, pumping once, twice.
“Fuc...”
His curse isn't able to form when your mouth wraps around him, taking him in your mouth. As much of him as you could. Hearing him groan, grunt—seeing his nostrils flare before his forehead presses into the crease of his elbow as he leans it against the door. His breath stammers, palm cupping the back of your head casually as he tenses, muscles straining, body stiff.
All you can think is you wish this image could be painted, commemorated; hung somewhere for your eyes to see everywhere, every day.
Because he's backlit by the afternoon, shadows cascade from the half-drawn curtains of your room, bicep flexing as you take him down your throat, loosening it as much as you can until the tip of your nose finds itself in his curls.
“So big, Frankie.”
He groans, at the same time as you taste salt, it pooling at the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up to see his jaw slackening, nostrils flaring when your tongue swirls around the tip, hollowing your cheeks, feeling him twitch in your mouth—
“Bed.”
It’s hissed, strangled, as he pulls himself from between your lips and spit trails over your lower lip and chin.
“Now?” you tease.
“Now.”
His hands, all capable and strong, haul you to your feet. Finding a home on your hips, directing and shifting you until you’re on familiar sheets, turned over, stomach flush to your mattress as he trails his mouth down your spine.
“Wanna fuck you.”
“Then fuck me.”
It’s different, the way your bodies come together. The way he swallows your hiss when he bottoms out, stretching around him, fingers clinging and clutching at him.
“Y’too good to me, Frankie.”
“Impossible,” he whispers.
Mouth sliding up over your neck, nose catching on your skin, his hand dips between your bodies—where you’re joined, where you’re full and stretched around him. It’s bliss. Perfection. One you endure so regularly but don’t become used to, each time as taken back by how good it feels to be seated fully inside you as his fingers tease your swollen nerves.
It’s with a smooth thrust do your fingers brush over his face, finding his cheek, mouth and nose, guiding with your eyes closed for his mouth to seal itself over yours. Hips moving, thrusting, meeting him each time as you grow slicker, making a mess of him and the sheets beneath you.
Mouth slotted over his, moaning passed his teeth, hands clutching his cheek, the back of his neck, fingers teasing his curls. “Fuck, Frankie. Fu—“
He grins, you feel it. His hand slides from your slick-covered clit to your hip, along your waist, travelling and travelling until his palm cups your breast—until his finger and thumb are pinching your hardened peak. All the time kissing you, open mouths, breathing one another as his pace quickens. As you feel the early signs of your thighs tremoring, seeking something to grip, to hold on tight—
“Love how you take me.”
You whine. Gasping.
And he’s smooth with it. The way he slides your hand from his cheek and down towards the bed. Hingeing you, making you go down onto all fours as he kisses down your neck, trails his tongue, leaving a searing wet line before he’s under your arm, snaking his mouth over as much skin as he can get.
“Baby—“
“I know,” he grunts, puncturing it with several thrusts. “Feels good, you always feel good.”
Your eyes clench shut, mouth falling open at the angle. At the way it makes your toes curl in nothing. Something tightening, something that makes the corners of your vision blot and darken. It close. Liquid heat forming, swirling in your stomach, in your need and you—
A whine rips from your throat. All stained in disappointment, in loss as he pulls out. Leaves you empty, desperate.
You almost hiss. Throwing your head over your shoulder as you glance back to see him breathing heavily, chest oiled with sweat, hand squeezing himself at the base, a lopsided grin spread into his cheek as his other hand slides over your side. Urging, silently requesting.
“Roll onto your back, Rainy.”
It centres you, roots you when his elbows come down on either side of you.
Warm, hot mouth sliding over your jaw, his hand gripping yours, holding you tight as he teases, slides the tip of his cock through your messy folds, taunting your swollen clit.
“I love you,” he groans, pushing himself in, completely to the hilt, all in one smooth movement.
You swear he's deeper. Always say so until he trails his hand up the side of your leg, lifting them, hooking them over his waist as you wrap them around his back, and dig your ankles into his lower spine.
“Feel so good.”
“You make me feel so good.”
Your chin tips up, feeling him press open-mouth kisses to your throat. Likely feeling the vibrations of your moans against his lips, his tongue.
“Yeah?”
Nodding, rustling your head against the dishevelled sheets as his breath fans over your collarbone, “Only you.”
His pace quickens, snaps his hips to yours, grunting, moaning—the sounds making you clench around him. Chasing your second orgasm, walls fluttering around him as your fingers tighten around his, as he grasps your hip and fucks into you. Spears into you.
“I love you too,” you moan.
“I’m close. So close. Want to feel you, baby. Can you come, baby, come for me—”
Fingers knotting tighter around his, vision spotting, it all pooling, all set to spread.
Then, it snaps, splinters.
You cry out. Body erupting.
Nothing but heat and fire surging through you as you are washed in it. Drowned it. Never wishing to be saved as you go under, as your hearing fades and your eyes blur. Only aware, distantly, of the way your skin tingles as it lights with a blaze.
But, you do catch his guttural groan. The way he stills, paused, as his eyes clench and your name is buried into your ear—feeling him collapse on you.
A weight you love.
His heart hammering against yours, breath strained, difficult as you clutch at him, pulling him closer if that is at all possible. Even if it's just for a moment, before steam fills your bathroom and soap suds slide down both of your skin.
Because it's a weight that makes you smile every time, every day. One you adore. One you never want to not know.
You say as much against his mouth as your lips sloppily meet his, smiling, grinning against his mouth.
I love you.
Love you too, Rainy.
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an: this was almost titled the last smut. (because of the series coming to an end, not because of some unhappy ending)
NEXT CHAPTER ->
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buckgasms · 1 year
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Doctors' Barnes and Rogers (Part 3)
Part threeeeeee! This kinda gets a bit fluffy at the end so who knows what the heck is happening but I hope you enjoy it!
Doctor kink, breeding kink, dubious doctors behaving dubiously but also sweet so..... Also pregnancy talk so please avoid if that may upset you ❤️
Part One // Part Two
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The next week you were inundated with tasks and paperwork to read over before your next session with the Doctors. Copious notes about your cycle, number of times you felt aroused in the weeks and detailed descriptions on what that consisted of.
It was a bit embarrassing to send these off every evening but Dr Barnes insisted it would be helpful. Some of your deepest fantasies, and some more recent thoughts about your recent encounter with two hot doctors. Hopefully they wouldn't judge you too much.
Dr Rogers had emailed you requesting images which you had felt even more embarrassed about, but complied in the name of science. You sent him images of your pretty pussy for the most part, but he also seemed to need pictures of your ass, breasts and even one of your mouth open. It made little sense to you but he said it was all required for the process, so you did it. The more you spoke to them and thought about having a little baby of your own you felt more desperate to get everything right and make them happy. You didn't want to risk them kicking you off the programme just because you didn't send a little picture here and there.
⚕️
Eventually the date arrived where you would go through the first procedure. You felt incredibly nervous but also so excited. You still didn't quite know what the process was going to look like, but if it was anything like your check up you were quite happy with that. Dr. Barnes did say it was quite 'revolutionary' so who knows what was in store?
It was a day time appointment for a change but the whole office was completely empty. "We shut the place for today, it's a special day sweetheart" Bucky said, guiding you into his examination room, a place you were starting to look forward to being. "I'm excited, but I do feel a bit scared Doctor." You mumble as he takes your coat and hangs it up before turning to you and taking your soft hand in his warm one.
"Hey, everything is going to be fine. Steve and I are going to take such good care of you and make sure you feel great the whole time. You've trusted us this far, keep going sweetie." You smiled and squeezed his hand back nodding eagerly. "You're right, it's going to be great..."
At that moment Steve walked in and smiled at the little scene in front of him. "How are we today? Ready to make a baby?" You giggled and nodded again making them smile at you. "Oh did all my pictures come through Dr. Rogers?" You ask, heat flaring in your cheeks as you suddenly wanted to know he liked them, even though that wasn't the point!
"Oh they were marvelous, really helpful. And your little diary was also enlightening. So glad you enjoyed your time with us last time..." You thought you might die from embarrassment but they just chuckled and nudged you.
"Ok sweetie, we're gonna try and few things out today, so if it's uncomfortable just tell us, the better you feel, the more chance it has of working right?" You nod and they start moving round the room as you wait for instruction.
"Right, we need you to undress now honey and we'll get everything set up." Steve said before providing a screen for you to take your clothes off. As you did so, you could hear movement on the other side, equipment being moved and a bit of huffing from the doctors.
You peaked around the screen and watched them set up a bench, with a thin flat leather cushion. It looked quite...kinky and you couldn't help feel a twinge of excitement through your body. They turned around and caught you peeking. "Come here sweet thing, nothing to be frightened of..." Bucky said, holding out a hand for you, which you gratefully took after shuffling over, an arm over your breasts as you approached them.
"This is a sort of breeding bench. You have to lay face down on this soft cushion here and we can stimulate you from either end. We can also tilt the bench once you are inseminated to make sure it really takes. You should be nice and comfortable but if you need to move at any time, you just let us know. Any questions so far?"
"Um, how will the...insemination bit happen?" You say quietly, nibbling on your finger and looking between them. "Well we can do it two ways. Either we can use a machine, but that might be a bit uncomfortable..." Steve said, looking at your seriously and you bit your lip. "Oh, what's the other option?" He rubs your back, making your skin tingle, before brushing your hair away from your face. "Dr. Barnes and I are happy to provide samples directly. That way we can adjust to your comfort and monitor you more closely."
Your eyes widened at the thought. You'd had a little bit of first hand experience with their direct approach. They were both very well endowed and you wondered out loud, "do you think I can take you?" They both chuckled and rubbed your arms and back, "absolutely sweetheart, we've done the tests and you're perfect for us... but it's up to you of course..."
There was a beat in the air until finally you nodded. "Let's do it that way. I don't want to be uncomfortable with a machine. Are you sure that's ok?" They nodded quickly and told you it was absolutely fine with them.
"Good, that's really good honey. Are you ready to start?"
They guided you onto the bench, your breasts hung down on either side of the leather and you rested your chin on your folded arms as they positioned your legs into place. You felt remarkably relaxed for the compromising position you were in, but you were in good hands. Hands that were now running over your soft skin, squeezing gently at you making you sigh.
"Feeling good?" Bucky asks, a clear amusement in his voice as his fingers squeeze at your ass cheeks before running down your leg. "Mmm yeah, this is so comfy" you almost moan.
"Good, anything changes, let us know. We'll get started then, just relax and let us do the work."
You try and watch them but it's difficult from your position, so you decide to close your eyes and try and figure it out from the sensations. You think it's Bucky who is settled between your legs, running his hands along your upper thighs, occasionally rubbing across your folds, making you moan quietly into your arms.
Your moan becomes louder when Steve grips your nipple between his fingers and starts squeezing and twisting. In moments you are humping Bucky's hand as he rubs more vigorously along your wet slit. "Good girl, so responsive for us hmm?" Steve mutters in your ear as he pulls and tweaks at you.
"Tell me how it feels" Bucky says and you whine, "feels good...want more please?" You are begging already, but it only seems to make them happy. Steve attaches a suction cup to your breasts which makes you cry out in delight before you feel his hand brush at your hair. You manage to open your eyes as Bucky sinks a finger into your pussy, his thumb rubbing firmly at your clit. "Want something in your mouth honey?" He asks and you moan, nodding your head and reaching for him.
His cock springs free and you immediately latch on, focusing all your tension and desperation on his thick length, sucking harder than you ever had. "Jesus Christ, she's feeling needy today" Steve growls, gripping your hair tightly as he thrusts slowly in and out of your mouth.
Bucky, unable to retain his impatience anymore, slips his cock free of his boxers and lines up to your aching heat. Thanks to his excellent preparation he glides in until he is flush with your ass, and begins to rut. You are already fluttering and squeezing him like a vice as he grips your ass cheeks and spreads them open.
"That feel good baby? You like that" he mutters, testing a quick spank to your pretty cheeks as he fucks you. Pausing for air you cry out a yes, before Steve guides you back to him. Tears stream down the face as pleasure rips through your body, their unrelenting pace already making you feel like you are floating on air.
"Gonna make us a baby ain't ya? Gonna be a good girl for us and make us a daddy hmm?" Steve says through gritted teeth as he pulls out of your hungry mouth. He crouches down and presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead. "Nothing I'd like more than to see you swallow my come honey, but gotta save it for your pretty cunt right? We're gonna fill you up.."
You nod and reach your hands out for him which he takes, pressing more kisses to your messy lips. "Already drunk on cock honey? We knew you'd be the perfect little candidate. Like a little bunny ain't ya? Just made for getting fucked and full right?"
As he goads you, Bucky rams his cock faster into your aching hole, his fingers rubbing at your clit from underneath. Your hips buck at the sensations but they have you tied down just enough that any movement doesn't get you very far. "Atta girl, gonna make me come, just keep squeezing me like that sweetness" he groans. The tension builds in your stomach until one final swipe has it snapping, your orgasm ripping through you and clamping down on Bucky.
His groans mix with your wails, as you squeeze Steve's hand even tighter until you drop everything, laying there panting as your lower half twitches. When he's satisfied Bucky pulls out but you suddenly feel Steve slide in and continue the steady pace.
"Ah I can't... S'too sensitive" you cry but Bucky has taken position at your head. "Come on sweetheart, we don't want to waste any samples. You can do it. For us, I know you can..." Steve keeps his hips moving steadily, but not too rough to hurt so you can only let the pressure build again. You watch Bucky fiddle with the suction cup on your breast, the vibrations and suction getting stronger until you can't contain your scream as another powerful orgasm rips through you and Steve is filling you up.
After a moment where you think you must have stopped breathing you feel the table tilt forward and a tape is put over your sensitive pussy. "Did so well for us baby. Gonna leave you here for a bit to get that settled, then we'll do it all again."
"Again?" You cry, not knowing how you could possibly manage another round of that. They chuckle and press a little kiss each to your face. "Yes silly, don't you know it takes lots and lots of goes to make sure it all works. Today's the best day to do it. Although we might even keep you in overnight so we can keep going..."
You begin to protest but Bucky presses another kiss to your face and switches on the suction cups, cutting your voice off immediately and replaces it with a groan. "That's better" he says before providing his thumb for you to suck on which you cant resist as he pushes it passed your lips.
"Don't worry, we want to take care of you sweetheart. We know just what you need..."
⚕️
After a few more rounds you needed to change position, so Bucky picked you up in his strong arms and carried you to a more comfortable couch. From there, they both spent what felt like hours fucking you full.
The idea of getting you pregnant seemed to fill them with an insatiable lust. They fucked you until your holes were aching, each flick to your clit was like agony, but you couldn't resist how good it felt either.
"Fuck sweetheart, you're milking me dry?" Steve groaned through gritted teeth, as you could only mewl in delight. "Aw has our pretty girl gone dumb for cock" Bucky mocked softly as he rubbed your clit while Steve filled you up again.
Bucky swiftly takes his place, pushing your aching pussy apart and spitting on your messy heat. "Fuck!" You cry out, already on the edge as he presses in to you. "Don't let it come out sweetheart, dont wanna waste a drop do you?" You shake your head as he slides in and out, every nerve ending on fire as he does.
"See that little bunny" Steve says, tugging at your aching heat, making your squeal. "That's a pussy being used correctly, filled with come and begging for more... Fucking perfect.."
Your whole body shakes as he keeps rubbing while Bucky groans, unable to contain his orgasm as you come yet again.
"Good girl, take it all, every drop" he moans, wrapping a hand around your throat as he fucks through his release.
Finally they decide to move you somewhere more comfortable and in the space of moving you, you fall asleep so they leave you to rest for a little while.
When you woke there was a jug of water, a bowl of fruit and a plate of sandwiches which you tucked into. While you nibbled you glanced down at your aching heat and found it puffy and overused, but not feeling at all bad about it. Your mind drifted back to when you and your ex husband had tried for a baby and you sometimes never even orgasmed, let alone felt like this. You had realised that all along he had lied to you and made you feel terrible when it was him who was the problem. But you didn't want to dwell anymore on him. It was pointless.
You took in the rest of your body, swollen nipples, little marks from their hands and lips as they had kissed, and bitten and sucked at you. You bit your lip remembering how you had written all these things in your diary to them. Clearly they had taken it very seriously, which you appreciated.
As you were beginning to wonder where they were, they arrived back into the office where they left you. There faces full of brightness at the sight of you awake.
"There's our girl! Are you feeling ok sweetie?" They both took time fussing over you, pressing your tummy for any aches, massaging your legs and hands and pressing cold stethoscopes to your chest making you giggle, as they tried to warm them up but failing.
"I feel fine I promise" you said after calming down and gripping their hands. They both leaned in a pressed a kiss to each cheek, but you felt bold and leaned over to Bucky then Steve, stealing a kiss on the lips from both of them.
"Oh sweetie, you really are perfect ain't ya?" Bucky says, pulling you back for a longer kiss before guiding you over to Steve so he could kiss you deeper, making you moan.
"Alright pretty girl, let's get you back in there, you ready?" Bucky says, squeezing your thighs and you nod eagerly. You go to stand but he tuts and slips his arms under you and picks you up, making you squeak and wrap your arms around his neck. "I gotcha" he whispers and you steal another kiss from him, feeling so safe and happy in his arms. Before you are finally released and eagerly climb into place and settle down, wiggling at the anticipation.
⚕️
After a whole day they decide that the work they've done should be enough for now. They take you home in Bucky's car with Steve carrying you up to your apartment, which although you insist ksnt nessecary, you grip him tighter and lay your head on his shoulder. While Bucky unlocks your door Steve presses kisses to your forehead, all of your feeling quite happy with the amount of kisses being passed around.
Seeing the sorry state of your flat you cringe as you go inside. At least you had the forethought to tidy before you went to them the day before.
Bucky finds your pyjamas and once Steve pops down he gently helps you change as if you are precious cargo. You giggle as you tell him so and he smiles at you. "Sweetheart, you are..." He presses a hand to your tummy and you smile back "the most precious as far as we're concerned..."
Your tummy flips with something new but you decide not to worry right now. You feel exhausted despite the many naps you've had. "Ok you gotta sleep, eat and drink as much as possible. Try to leave the shower or bath until tomorrow morning if you can just to be sure." Steve says, placing a big water bottle on your side, with a bag of groceries on your kitchen table, filling up the fridge with healthy but delicious goodies.
"Ok I promise...when do you think I can do a test?" You say, as you snuggle up into your blankets. They explain that you might have to wait until next week, but if it's negative they can just keep repeating the process until it sticks.
You nod, feeling nervous but excited. They both kiss you goodbye and leave. You feel suddenly overwhelmed at the silence, having had such a crazy 24 hours of close, initmate contact. You take a big drink of water before sinking back into your pillows, your eyes fluttering closed as your mind was filled with images of them surrounding you and the pleasure that comes with it.
⚕️
One week later you are waiting nervously in your bathroom, a pregnancy test perched on the sink as you nibble your finger and watch the stopwatch on your phone.
You daren't look. You've been in this position so many times before it just feels horrible. You still have 2 minutes to wait but you feel sick at the thought of what's to come. You fiddle with your phone for a moment until you decide to call Bucky.
He answers almost immediately, concern in his voice. "Hi sweetie, everything ok?" You are a little surprised at his quick answer so you stutter for a bit, which makes him even more worried. Finally you manage to choke out, "I'm fine!" You both take a breath before you restart.
"I'm waiting for a test... Got a few more minutes and I just.... I feel scared..." You say quietly, trying to ignore the tears pricking at your eyes. He sighs at the other end and you know he has a concerned look on his face still.
"It's all ok sweetness. Whatever it says we still got you alright? You don't need to worry becaise Steve and I are with you every step of the way..."
You can only nod as he talks, his warm deep voice filling you with calm. Your phone buzzes as the timer runs out and you take a deep breath. "Ok are you ready?" You say and he tells you firmly that he is and it's going to be fine.
With shaky fingers you turn the test over. A little gasp escapes your lips and he asks with a more stressed voice than he would probably like. "What does it say sweetheart?"
Finally you let out a shaky laugh.
"It's positive"
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rachaelthemes · 9 months
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Ocular — Version 3
Preview // User Guide // More Info & Install
your favorite sidebar theme just got an upgrade, babeyyy
I went to update Ocular to make it NPF post-compliant and then my hand slipped and I redesigned the whole thing lmao. here's a brief update about Ocular 3; if you're looking for a full list of changes between versions 2 and 3, click the "Read More" below)
Ocular comes with the following features:
Colors: easily change the color scheme of your sidebar and posts using any colors you want
Post sizes: 400px, 500px, 540px, 600px, 700px
Sidebar: can be on the left, right, or above the posts. pick from a list of sidebar sizes, header image heights, and avatar shapes
Fonts: 20 different fonts, sizes 13px to 18px
Background: solid, gradient, full-size image or repeating image
Links: choose either regular navigation or drop-down navigation. unlimited custom links (visit the help desk FAQ for a tutorial) and ability to rename home, ask, submit, and archive links
Endless scroll, custom ask box text, Tumblr's full-width controls and search bar, optional header, avatar, and favicon images
if you already have Ocular installed, version 3 should be coming at you as soon as the update passes the theme garden. if you installed this theme with GitHub, you'll have to re-install manually.
now let's get to the fun stuff. what's new in version 3?
wow, do I have some updates for you!
1. goodbye color schemes, hello post background and text colors
you can now directly control the color of the posts rather than relying on color schemes to do it. want your posts to be a very specific shade of navy? all yours, buddy. go wild (make sure it's readable tho)
2. hello, color schemes! wait I thought we got rid of that guy
a lot of the color schemes I made became redundant now that the new post background/text color options exist. if you were married to the old color schemes, all of them can be recreated using those options. so the new color scheme options are as follows:
"My colors" — uses the colors you picked for post background/text
"Light preset" and "dark preset" — sets the posts to white with black text, or off-black with white text
"Translucent" — uses the colors you choose for post background/text, but makes the post backgrounds semi-transparent. there are NINE different translucent color schemes, ranging from 90% (only slightly see-through) to 10% (VERY see through)
3. navigation dropdown option
you can either use the sidebar links like they were before, or you can turn them into a cute little dropdown (helpful if you have lots of links or links with long titles!) you can enable this using the "use dropdown navigation" setting. you can also customize the label for the dropdown using the "dropdown menu label" setting. for instance, the dropdown on my blog currently says "oooh you wanna click me"
4. RIP google fonts I always hated your load times
decided to stop using Google Fonts and instead I'm providing the font files directly in the code. this will help speed up load times drastically when using custom fonts, plus I don't have to use Google. win-win! there's quite a bit of coverage overlap with the old fonts, but some of them that were too similar to each other got the ax. I also added all of the system fonts as options (hit classics like Arial, Georgia, and Comic Sans MS are now available TO YOU!)
5. more layout, sizing, and spacing options
the sidebar used to be either on the center-left, center-right, or above the posts; now it can go in the top-left or top-right! you can now control the border radius on the posts and sidebar. the header height, sidebar width, and post spacing all have additional options.
6. some options have been renamed for additional clarity
"background color 1" -> "background color"
"background color 2" -> "gradient background color"
"background" -> "background style"
"font override" -> "use body font everywhere"
"title" -> "sidebar title"
"description" -> "sidebar description"
"ask box text" -> "custom HTML above ask box"
7. removed some options
you win some, you lose some. I removed the uppercase sidebar links, theme credit, and inline media spacing options, mostly for redundancy reasons or because they produced unclear results.
8. as previously stated, now NPF-compliant
Ocular was ALMOST compliant with Tumblr's new post format, but had a few tweaks that needed to be ironed out. they're now ironed.
9: now user-friendly right out of the box
I updated the default color and content options, so new users installing this theme will have a much easier time using and customizing it immediately. no more ugly ass green background!
10. and finally, new JS
I had to rewrite some of the javascript for this theme, which turned into me rewriting ALL of the javascript. doing so meant that I could eliminate dependencies on third-party JS libraries and run the whole thing on plain JS. that should improve load times!!
bonus: custom CSS can do some nifty stuff now
want to change the size of your avatar? you can do that now! just do this to your Advanced > Add custom CSS section
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super helpful if you're using the Avatar shape: Uncropped setting and you need your image to be a specific size (like a pixelated GIF)
for more info, check out the Ocular user guide. thanks for reading my updates!! hope you all have a fantastic start to your 2024 ❤️
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jessiexcorner · 7 months
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Heartbreak Highs. (pt. 3)
Description: Amerie, Harper, and (Y/n). The three were the best of friends until the incest map. A heartbreak high x reader. 
Part 1:
Part 2:
"You sure you’ll be good? You can stay over for longer if you want,” (Y/n) says to Darren as they step out of her car and peer in through the window.
“Yeah, thanks for letting me stay, and dropping me to work.”
“Yea, no worries, see you after your shift?” (Y/n) asks, to which Darren nods. She drives off heading to Harper’s aunt’s place to hang out.
“Hey Harp” (Y/n) says with a smile entering the house. She notices a younger kid next to Harper, her little cousin, they had met a couple of times. “Hey, little star!” (Y/n) raises her hand out for a high five which the kid gladly returns.
“Did you get it?” The kid asks excitedly.
(Y/n) hums and reaches into her bag to pull out some sweets, “Don't eat them all at once your mom will get mad at me if I spoil your appetite..” She tries to warn but the kid already has taken off running to her room with the bag of junk food. “..Just so you know I'm still mad at the fish thing…” (Y/n) states.
“..I got you your favorite snacks as an ‘im sorry’ gift,” Harper says holding out the small bag of treats.
“…Okay, maybe I'm a little less upset.”
Harper laughs and pulls the girl inside the home, wrapping an arm around her neck. They head to the guest room and laze around, talking, and watching a movie together. They lay in bed watching a random film on (Y/n)’s laptop. (Y/n) feels her phone buzz and looks at it to see a notification of a message from Darren, opening it to find an image of Amerie in butchered bangs. She looks up at Harper who’s focused on the movie. She texts 'Oh my god.’ to Darren and shuts her phone, snuggling closer to the blond girl, who doesn't mind. A few minutes later she gets another text from Darren which says ‘Fixed Dora’s haircut.’ With a photo of the new hair and Amerie in a trolly, a place familiar. (Y/n) furrows her brows, sitting up a bit and texting quickly. ‘You're at the roof? I thought you wanted me to pick you up?’ She pauses to read the response. ’Yeah sorry, I asked Quinni, we’re at the roof now. We’re actually going to head to the cemetery for the party,’ ‘What..’ (Y/n) types out but then delete and replace it with an ‘oh.’ She can't really blame them, she never told the two she was close friends with Amerie before she became a Dusty-obsessed mean girl. They only knew about Harper and that she and Harp had a falling out but, now are on better terms. ‘You should come, please? It wouldn't be the same.’ (Y/n) pauses at the message. 'PLEASE COME!!1!’ Another message says. ’That was Quinni, but yes’ (Y/n) smiles a little at the text before responding with ‘okay.’
“Hey Harp, you're going to the cemetery thing yeah?”
“Yeah, why?” Harper looks over at the (h/c) hair girl.
“I wanna come.” Harper looks at her with surprise.
“Really? You never wanted to go before, but alright, if you’re sure,” She says with a smile.
At the cemetery, most teens carry a drink or smoke enjoying themselves. (Y/n) sticks close to Harper as the girl talks with Missy and Sasha, not drinking any alcohol. She looks around waiting for Darren and Quinni. “Hey, you good?” Harper asks.
“Oh, yeah, Darren said that they and Quinni were coming, I'm just keeping an eye out.” (Y/n) explains.
“Ah,” Harper nods understanding. (Y/n) notices Harper is almost done with her drink.
“Want me to get you another?” (Y/n) asks not wanting to stand around silently or awkwardly as Sasha, Missy, and Harper talk.
“If you're okay with it, sure,” Harper says noticing the fact (Y/n) was silent throughout the whole party. The (h/c) haired girl nods humming and walks to the drinks to find an unopened and untampered bottle. As she searches the cooler she notices someone standing next to her, she looks up to see the new kid.
“Hey,” He starts.
“Hi..” She responds going back to her search for the drink.
“Looking for that?” He points out a bottle that seems to be unopened.
“Oh, yeah.. Thanks,” She grabs the bottle, checking it once more.
“I'm Malakai.” He reaches out his hand.
She stands up before reaching her own hand out, “(Y/n).”
“You don’t seem like someone who comes here often,”
(Y/n) raises a brow “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, no I didn't mean, it's just you seem uncomfortable around here…” Malakai tries to explain.
“… it's actually my first time at something like this.” (Y/n) admits.
“Hey, me too.” He smiles.
“Right.” She pauses, not used to talking to a lot of new people, or comfortable talking to someone she doesn't already know.
“Can I offer you a drink?”
“I don't drink.” (Y/n) declines.
“Oh, okay that’s cool.”Malakai is about to say something else when (Y/n) excuses herself.
“I have to get this to my friend,” She points in Harper’s general direction.
“Oh, uh, sure, see you around?” He asks hopefully.
(Y/n) hums but leaves immediately as soon as she gets the chance to run back to her friend’s side.
“Hey, saw you talking to the new kid,” Harper teases a bit taking the drink (Y/n) brought her.
“Hm? Oh yeah.” (Y/n) moves on by not speaking of the topic anymore.
“Well, he seemed like he wanted to talk to you, actually he still seems like he wants to talk to you,” Harper points out, (Y/n) glances at the direction of where the coolers were, and Malakai is looking at the girl and her friend. (Y/n) looks away and awkwardly shrugs. It only took another minute before sundown when Darren, Quinni, and Amerie arrive. (Y/n) spots her friends and is about to say hi, but stops when she sees Amerie. She taps Harper to let her know, who had arrived. Harper looks over and sees the group, and nods in acknowledgment. Quinni finding (Y/n) smiles and waves, which the girl returns back. Amerie on the other hand spotting her old friends wants to turn back. Malakai walks up to Amerie holding out a beer.
"Hey, cunt. My actual name's Malakai, by the way.”
“Amerie.” The girl introduces herself. (Y/n) notices the interaction and looks away focusing on her friends Darren and Quinni. Smiling, she is about to walk up to them but, Malakai seemingly wanting to cheer Amerie up, starts dancing which makes Quinni pull Amerie to the dance floor and begin dancing with her and Darren. (Y/n)’s smile falters a little, pulling back she moves away from the middle of the dance floor back to the sides. Once Amerie seems to be done having her fun with Malakai; Darren and Quinni catch up with (Y/n) and they talk about Quinni’s plan to confront Spider about the rumor and Darren’s encounter with Cash earlier that day.
“Oh really? That's so cool Quinni, it'll be hilarious!” (Y/n) hypes up her friend, encouraging her.
“Oh! I should tell Amreie too,” Quinni walks off with a smile leaving (Y/n) on her own as Darren had left to get a drink. She looks around shuffling before deciding to look for Harper. While searching she bumps into someone.
“Oh, sorry,”
“Oh hey, it's you.” Malakai smiles once more after stabilizing the both of them.
“Oh, uh, yup.” (Y/n) nods turning away.
“Hey, could I ask you something?”
“Hm?”
“Do you not like me or are you just shy?”
“..What?”
“I dunno, you just seem to avoid me, or people in general.”
“..Well, I don't exactly know you enough to not like you.”
“You could, get to know me that is. I would like to get to know you,” He says with a smile.
Oh. Well, this was… different. Not a bad thing, maybe, but strange indeed. “Oh, uh—“ (Y/n) was cut off and a bit distracted when she saw Quinni walking towards Spider to confront him about the 'Lazy kebab' rumor. Malakai glances at what caught the girl’s attention.
"Hey, Spider.” Quinni hands the guy a large blue folder, full of diagrams and images. Spider skims through with wide eyes, and makes a face.
"Yuck! What is this shit?"
"Oh. You don't like vaginas?” Quinni asks, seemingly genuine.
"No, I like vaginas.” Spider corrects her, thinking that the girl is implying something else.
Well, you clearly don't know much about them because if you have a look here…See most vaginas have very pronounced flaps, or labia, and some of them are even lopsided, where I'm assuming you got "Lazy Kebab" from, but it's very, very, normal. You wouldn't know, it's not taught in public schools much. Which is actually very— “ Quinni rambles as she points at the diagrams and pictures. People begin to notice the commotion and Spider’s reactions.
“I've seen heaps of vaginas. Thanks.” Spider says harshly shoving the folder back to the girl.
“Okay. I just assumed, on account of the fact that you were lying about seeing mine, that you were lying about seeing others too.” Quinni says calmly in her usual tone, directly insulting him and discrediting him in one sentence. The kids around snicker and laugh. (Y/n) watches with a proud smile.
"Look, of course, we didn't have sex. Why would I root a fucknut like you?” Spider retorts angrily walking away. A girl, Sasha comes up to compliment Quinni.
“That's your friend right?” Malakai asks (y/n) noticing her smile.
“Yes,"
"she’s amazing,”
“She is,” (Y/n) beams,
“You have a pretty smile,”
That makes (Y/n) pause and nervous. She was never really the best at these things. There is a reason why she was labeled as 'Fish' on the map. She turns her head away chuckling nervously, not sure how to respond. But like a knight in shining armour, Harper links her arm to hers.
“Hey, I needed to take a piss, come with me?” Harper says not paying attention to the boy. Until she notices the fidgety and shy look on her friend’s face and grins. “Am I interrupting?”
“No! I’ll come with you, bye Malakai.” (Y/n) says dragging the blond away who chuckles at her. Malakai stands where he was left with a smile watching the girls walk away.
“So, Malakai is it? Does little (Y/n) have a crush?” Harper teases.
“Why does everyone keep saying that? It's nothing, he’s just being friendly.”
“Yeah, I'm sure he’s being friendly… the ‘you have a pretty smile’ friendly.” Harper says mocking the conversation she heard earlier as she squats near the graves to pee.
“You hear that?!” (Y/n) turns to face away letting the girl piss in peace, but also a little embarrassed.
“Come on it's cute!”
“Shush— Oh shit.“
“What?”
“..Amerie.” (Y/n) says as if warning the other girl. The brown girl walks towards them both staring directly at Harper as she pees.
"Oi, can we talk?” Amerie says, eyeing (Y/n) who doesn't say anything but stays close to Harper, like a guard dog.
"Jesus. Let me finish.” Harper huffs. She pauses and continues, "Just talk until I can get going again."
"Why don't you want to be friends anymore? After everything, Harp? It's killing me. I just want to fix it. Please tell me how to fix it.”
"What happened to your hair?” Harper changes the subject.
"I cut it."
“Yourself?” Harper raises a brow.
"Yes,” Amerie says confidently, making (Y/n) scoff, Darren did her hair. Why lie?
Harper chuckles, pulling up her pants and buttoning them. "I told you not to watch those YouTube tutorials. You never listen."
"And you never talk. What happened? We were fine up until the festival.” Amerie says desperately wanting to get closer, only to have (Y/n) step in a bit, protectively. "I went to your house and you weren’t—“
“Why did you go to my house?"
"You weren't talking to me—“
"So you stalked my house and harassed my dad?"
"I didn't harass your dad,” Amerie says lightly.
"That is such the typical psycho thing for you to do."
"You're the psycho. You ruined my life."
"Ruined your life? All this sh*t, Amerie, the map, your stupid fucking crush on Dusty, do you not understand how unimportant it all is? You're a child.” Harper snaps.
"That's not a reason to dump me. What's happened to you? Harper. I just want to move on.” Amerie says softly.
"And I don't want you in my life anymore,” Harper says harshly, tugging (Y/n) along with her.
“Since when did you replace me with (Y/n),” Amerie retorts in a last-ditch effort.
“I didn’t do shit. Unlike you, she’s actually my friend.” Harper defends (Y/n) while hurting Amerie in the process. Harper and (Y/n) walk away from the brown girl. (Y/n) notices the girl shaking and holding her hand gently squeezing back and letting Harper catch her breath and calm down.
“..Thanks, Harper.. you didn’t have to,”
“i did. You have always been there for me. The least I can do is be there for you too,” Harper says focusing on the way (Y/n)’s thumb rubs over her still-cracked knuckles. The two head back to the party, hand in hand.
@inkpot-winters
@juhdoche
@minnipe
thank you for waiting, sorry for any grammar mistakes and a short chap. <3
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littlemochabunni · 1 year
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1-800-TROUBLE
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Serial Killer!Suguru Geto x Bimbo!Fem reader
Content: 18+ MDNI!!! Serial killer Geto, Bimbo bunny girl reader, fuckboy victims, blood and homicide mention, implied roofing, knife play, deepthroat, degrading (slut, whore) + praise kink (princess, baby sweetheart, love), daddy kink, Multiple O’s, & Creampie
A/N: Ahhh sorry for the delay my sweet freaks, but I did it and I must say holy shit I’m nasty 💀; AND UM HELLO?? THANK YOU FOR 1.1K?!?!? I seriously cannot find the words to describe how happy and grateful I am for each and every one of you <3. I love you and enjoooy 🖤
wc: 3.7k
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 On your way home from a party you take a few wrong turns, and when you try to call your…. Overprotective boyfriend your phone dies before you get the chance to tell him the cross streets, you’re at. With it being late on Halloween night, most of the house porch lights are off your feet continue to carry you down this foreign neighborhood until you hope to see someone could help you. Tears begin to sting your eyes with each street corner you turn, and the nip fall air strips you of any warmth from your cropped puffer jacket Suguru made you wear before you left. You definitely wish you listened when he warned you repeatedly to charge your phone too… 
Police sirens are blaring in the far distance from where you originally started which means only one thing… “One of the officers can take me home!”  Right… 
Trying to follow the sounds to guide you out of the maze of houses you’re lost in. You find a group of men sitting in an open garage, drinking with the tv on in the background. Although you know Suguru told you not to talk to strangers especially when they’re drunk, what other people were around that could possibly help you?
“Excuse me? Hi, I’m like super lost…Can I borrow your phone or a charger please?” Every one of their eyes grazes over your body before meeting your eyes, and of course the man that looks spot on for a Chad speaks up first, “Ooo a sweet bunny girl like you all alone? Need me to come warm you up?” You glance around the garage spotting the space heater near the couch he’s sitting on and a bright smile appears on your face. “It would be nice to get out of the cold while I charge my phone!” You happily skipping inside the garage to sit near the heater and immediately feel so much better now that you're off your feet… Little did you know that with this little interaction…. you won’t be back on your feet anytime soon. 
All eyes are on you and you're like an innocent hare unaware of the foxes preying in the tall grass. 
“So, you gotta a name sweetheart?” Asked the store-brand version of Derek Shepherd. “Uhh I’m a bunny, duhh?” The men all blink at you before bursting out in a fit of laughter. You don’t understand how that was hilarious, but you’ll take it as a compliment. “Funny and cute… But seriously what’s your real name?” 
  Hearing that emergency number Suguru always tells you to remember if you're lost coming from the braking news announcement about some house party incident. You focus on the tv and ignore Chad’s questions, “Hey can you turn the tv up? I think I know that number.” The extra quiet man, who remains you of your friend's creepy uncle Lester, turns up the tv and it retells the gruesome murders of the house party that just occurred half an hour ago…. 
“The next image we show may disturb some viewers…” 
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Grumbles and tsk scatter among the men around you as they get a glance at the gruesome writings on the wall. You squint your eyes as you notice a similar stamp Suguru uses when he writes you love letters…. Your stomach drops at the thought of someone else using that beautiful stamp for something so… horrifying. 
“This message along with a description of the women and the phone number were left at the scene of the crime…” The woman proceeded to describe you from the hair on your head to the holographic boots you’re wearing. The men in the garage are too drunk to realize that you’re exactly what the killer wants, “Please if anyone has any information regarding this woman… please call: 1 (800) 876-8253… That’s 1-800-……TROUBLE… Again, that number is 1-800-876-8253…” 
You begin to feel guilty about making Suguru so worried about you that he had to go to the local news to find out where you were. Tears fill your eyes as you quickly try to turn on your phone only to realize that you forgot to plug it in, “Sorry um… I really need to call that number. Can I use one of your phones please?” Chad looks towards you smirking smugly, “Oh sweetness, I’ll let you use my phone only if you put your number in it too.” Your teary eyes brighten as your request is going to be made possible, “Oh thank you soo much.”  
Chad hands you his unlocked phone and you begin dialing the number with a bright smile on your face as it rings, “I hope he answers... I know he's so worried.” You don’t notice how Chad’s smirk fades nor the other two men grumbling about how long it’s been since either of them have gotten laid... As you mention a ‘he’ Chad scoffs as soon as the phone is answered, “You got some fucking nerve to be using my phone to talk to another dude… you fuckin’ tease.” You pout as Chad lets his blue balls speak for him and off brand Derek Shepherd snorts as he turns the tv off, watching every unfold between the two of you, “Hold on kay’? You don’t have to be so mean...” You hear heavy breathing on the other side of the phone which pulls your attention back towards your initial plan, “Um Hello? I’m the woman that the lady was talking about on TV? Daddy told me to call this number if I got lost? H-Hello?” A familiar growl is heard before a distorted voice rings through your ear, “Where are you.” The rough demanding voice sends tingles down your spine and your frown quickly turns into a smile of relief that you’ll be able to get home safely. “Uhh let me ask them real quick,” You look between store-brand Derek and Chad like you’re so close to winning the lottery, “Uh what’s the address?” Derek gives you uneasy smile before looking away and Chad holds his hand out asking for his phone back, assuming you thought he’s going to tell the person the address for you. “Oh, he’s gonna tell you for me, here ya go!” As you pass the phone back to Chad, and he gets up and walks into the house... 
“Ay don’t bother coming to get the girl or calling this number back. She’s gonna be too busy taking my dick.” Chad says boastfully, “The only dick she’s takes is mine.” The distorted voice says darkly. “Ha not tonight big guy. You can have her back in the morning.” Chad says before ending the conversation… 
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A few minutes of awkward silence goes by before creepy uncle Lester gets up to shut the garage. Chad comes back to the garage with two beers in hand before handing one over to you and sits back in his spot of the couch, “So did he tell you his way here?” Chad takes a swig of his beer as he glances between Derek and Lester, then gives you tight smiles and nods. “Yeah yeah… might take him a while, so you should get comfortable sweetheart.”  With the good news you smile brightly and tap your nails against the glass bottle softly, “You know we never got you name little bunny?” Lester speaks to you for the first time, but his eyes don’t meet yours. He’s too busy undressing what little clothes you had on. “Well neither did you silly! I mean it is Halloween. Do names really matter?” Lester tsk at your response and mutters whatever under his breath as he struggles to open another beer in his drunken state. “Aren’t you gonna drink? Don’t need you wasting our beer and our time.” Chad chimes in with his half full beer in hand, although his words are bitter his tone is sickeningly sweet as if he was speaking to a child. 
“Oh! Actually, I don’t drink beer it’s like super gross. You got like a soda or somethin’?” You chuckle as you place the beer on the table. An uncomfortable feeling sets in as the men stare at you. They all exchange looks between each other, but a late night.... An extremely late-night trick or treater knocks at the door before anyone can act or say anything... Derek is the one to get up to answer the door, “Who and the hell let’s their kids out this late...” he grumbles as he walks into the house.  Lester grabs your open beer off the table, but Chad warns him not to, “Now now... You shouldn’t drink the lady’s drink. Have some respect dude.” Lester waves him off, but grungily puts your drink back down on the table. “Sooo is that a no to having any soda?” Both men ignore your question and Lester turns the TV back on. 
A few minutes go by since Derek went to go answer the door, and just as Chad gets ready to go check the situation, his phone begins to ring with the caller ID being Derek himself, “Dude where the hell did you go?”  
“Sorry about your boyfriend, all those muscles didn’t help much.” the distorted voice rings through his ear and chills ran down his spine, and he doesn’t react too kindly to this prank, “Who the hell is this?” Chad spits venomously into the phone. “Why don't you come find out, filthy monkey.” The call ends before he can respond, and Chad being himself isn’t the type to pussy out to any threat... Yet something in the back of his mind is telling him not to go... “Bro let’s go see what’s going on...” Chad taps Lester leg to as he dozes off, “What? Why the hell do I have to go?!” Lester protest, “Don’t be a pussy and get up.” You perk up as they both get up to head inside the house, “Ooo can you get me a soda too!” Lester is the first to head inside the house, and just before Chad follows suit, he turns on his heels towards you with an irritated look, “You’re cute, but dumb as rocks y’know that sweetheart?” You pout and he leaves you in the garage alone.  
Ten minutes go by, and a lot of banging and muffled voices are heard from inside the house, but Suguru always tells you not to go digging your nose into other people's business. So, you reach over to grab your phone... which is still dead because the charge itself wasn’t plugged in, “Goddamn it! Guru is definitely pass pissed off by now...” You bend over the back of the couch to plug the charger into the wall. 
“Your incompetence never fails you does it Princess?” Suguru’s voice startles you, but his appearance is something straight out of a horror movie alone, “Aww Guru, you scared me! Aww, and you did dress up for Halloween after all! I wish you came to the costume party.” As you ramble on and on, Suguru gives you that same smile he always gives you when you’re so oblivious to the dangerous things around you. He sauntered towards you, luring you deeper into a false sense of security.  Not that you would notice any of the rage he was feeling… No, he made sure that you would feel just how angry he was when you’re his good little mindless cock—
“Y/N.” he utters as you continue on about how you wondered about and met the men, he had the pleasure of coming across himself. You’re lost in your own world which isn’t helping you out of the punishment of Suguru’s wrath… only makes it harder and harder for him to fight the need to carve his name into your skin. 
“My poor poor little slut. You have no clue how much trouble you are, do you?” You gasp as he grips your hair at the base of your skull, forcing you to strain your neck to look into his darkened eyes, “I-I ‘m sorry you had to go to the news to find me, Guru… I won’t be so... S-so careless next time…” Suguru chuckled humorlessly at your words and his grip tightened causing you to whimper. “It's always next time with you… Next time I tell you to do something you fucking do it. Do you understand that you brainless brat?” You nod slightly which only angers him further, Suguru press the very same blade that took the lives of the people from the party and those disgusting pricks in the next room, “Use your fucking words or I’ll cut that pretty little voice box of yours from your throat.” Tears well up in your eyes as you swallow the fear in your chest, “Y-yes daddy.”  you mutter timidly. Suguru’s grip loosens slightly, and he gives you a sadistic smile, “That’s my good girl, now stay very still...” He slowly glides the blade down from your throat to the harness of your costume, you keep your eyes on his as he swiftly cuts the leather fabric like it’s nothing. “You have no idea how many people I’ve killed just for looking at you Princess… How many times have I told you to stay out of trouble, hm?” You look around as you think about each time Suguru has told you and you begin to count each moment on your finger, and he laughs mockingly when you do so. “It’s a rhetorical question, dumb bunny.” You pout confused at his statement. “Soooo was I supposed to repeat the question?” He presses the blade against your cheek with light pressure and he smiles as you stiffen at the sensation, “Let me do all the thinking for you,” Suguru unbuckles his belt with his free hand, he pulls out his throbbing cock from its restraints and you gasp softly at the sight of his cock stands a few inches above your lips, “Open your mouth princess.” without hesitation you open your mouth, relaxing your jaw as he slide his cock down your throat with easy. Pushing your face closer to his pelvis “That’s it princess, just relax don’t think.”   
Your eyes roll back as you choke with his thick cock down your throat. You squeeze your thighs together, attempting to gain some sort of friction. Suguru groans out feeling you gag on his cock; he smirks as he glides the blade down the laces holding your corset together cutting away the fabric slowly, causing you to flinch. 
You gasp at the stinging sensation when the blade deeper against your skin, “Now did I tell you to move princess?” Suguru scold you as he pulls you off his cock, “I-I’m sorry daddy I just really like this outfit...” He mentally rolls his eyes while caressing your cheek and smiling at you, “Don’t worry about that love. We can always replace materialistic things, but we can’t replace you, so stay still like a good girl.” He brushes he cock against your lips, and you gleefully take his cock down your throat once more. 
Gaging and moaning at the feeling, he curses under his breath while gripping your hair into a makeshift ponytail pushing his cock deeper down your throat, “Fuuuck baby— such a good little slut. My good little slut, yeah?” He cuts you free of the suffocating corset letting your breasts breathe freely, your eyes water while you look up at him. 
 That was just what sent him over the edge of holding back, Suguru sets the blade on the couch and grips the back of your head to pull back slightly leaving the tip his cock resting on your tongue, “Take a deep breath f’me sweetheart, time I fuck your throat properly.” Before you could even take in a complete exhale, Suguru shove his cock back down your throat, fucking it relentlessly without any mercy in sight the sounds of his loud groans fill your ears, “Sh-Shit— y-you fucking attention needing slut. You love pissing me off, don’t you? Showing your ass to all those filthy fuckin’ monkeys.” His harsh words leave a pool of excitement dripping down your thighs and the lack of oxygen you dig your nails into his thighs, desperately needing his cock to fill your cunt.  
Suguru grunts as you do so and roughly pulls out of your throat, and a long web connects your swollen lips to his tip. You cough roughly whilst finally taking in a deep inhale, “Daddy please? Please fuck me! Can’t wait anymore please? Ple—” Suguru grabs you by the neck pulling you up to your feet, and your bodysuit falls to the floor. He growls into your ear, and more tears fill your eyes as you squeeze your thighs together tightly, “You’re already crying, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” Suguru chuckles darkly while caressing your wet cheek, “If you’re this much of a mess just from sucking my cock, I can’t wait to ruin your cunt.” You let out a choked moan as his grip slightly tightens around your throat, “P-Please?” Begging him to ruin you just how he wants... With those wet red eyes, tears-stained cheeks, swollen lips... 
 Suguru’s grip tightens as he pulls you closer to whisper in your ear, “Bend over now.” He releases his grip and picks up the blade once more. You step out the bodysuit completely, placing your knees on the couch with your ass in the air then lowering your upper body down to rest on your forearms. “All soaked just from sucking me off? Or did those monkeys get my slut excited, huh?” Suguru glides the blunt side of the blade against your thigh and hip while spreading your slick slowly with his fingers. Shuddering at his touch and the blade against your skin, “O-Only you daddy! Can only get this wet from your tou— mmn!” You whimper softly as the tips of his fingers tease your clit, deepening the arch in your and his cock twitches at the sight. “Such an eager little bunny aren’t you sweetheart?” Suguru places his knee on the couch behind you while keeping the other on the floor. 
 He taunts your cunt with his tip making you wiggle and moan, “Keep. Still.” His icy voice kept you still as a statue and from making another sound all together. You’d forgotten about the blade against your skin all together, too excited for his cock being deep in your guts…. He’s still pissed off and he’s not letting you off that easily… 
 Without warning he bottoms you out, pushing every atom of oxygen from your lungs, “You really thought I’m gonna fuck you because you deserve a treat? Oh no princess.. I’m taking away your privilege of being able to walk freely without every step remaining you that you.. belong… to me..” Suguru bullies your cervix with a few more deep thrusts before pulling out, giving just a few seconds to fill your lungs with air again and he slips back into your cunt while gripping you hair to keep you from running away. “Su-Su!— D-Daddy! Wa— fuuuck!” His cock keeps your brain from calling out any mercy you think he’ll have on you, without realizing you cum around his cock and only broken words and screams can be heard. Suguru pulls you up from the couch and bites on your neck harshly, marking you in the most mundane way he can. Fighting his sadistic needs, “Don’t try to talk your way out of this now Princess. Remember you begged for this, so take it.” He growls in your ear while dancing the blade up from your hip to your navel. Fear and pleasure overwhelms your senses as he continues to fuck you like he absolutely despises you, and taunts you with the sharp object against your skin. “D-Daddy pleeease! Ah a— ‘m sorry!” You cry out while panting heavily and drool begins falling from your lips, yet Suguru ignores your pleas and opts for you muffled screams instead. “Bite.” He brings the handle of the blade to your lips and without question you bite on the handle, muffling your sounds. Suguru stops his movements all together leaving you to throb around his twitching cock buried inside of you, “So you listen when you want to and not when you need to, is that right y/n? Or is it because I fucked the remaining brain cells you have outta ya, you can’t complain now?” Hearing him say your name your rolled back eyes start to focus, and your breathing becomes heavier as he only speaks your name when you’re in the type of trouble where no one and nothing could save you from him… 
“Oh don’t worry precious. I’m not gonna hurt you… You’re gonna feel real good. I can promise you that, but you don’t get to stop cumming on my cock until I say you’ve learned your lesson.” Suguru takes his free hand and grabs both your wrist, placing them behind your back, giving your neck a kiss before thrusting inside your cunt at an animalistic speed. Your mind short circuits causing your eyes to roll back and muffled screams to leave your lips, “S-Shit you like when I fuck you like this, don’t you? You love being my little brainless whore.” Suguru’s words are confirmed when you scream as your second orgasm hits you harder than the last, and your body trembles uncontrollably.  Suguru groans as you tighten and cream around his cock, leading him to chase his high and he tightens his grip on your neck, pulling your body back against his like you’re his personal fuck toy. “Be a good doll and milk my cock, yeah? I just might forgive you for the trouble you caused.”  
In your fucked out state, you do as you’re told and bounce back on Suguru cock, trying to match his pace. “That’s it princess. That’s it— Fuuck~” Suguru shoots his load deep inside your cunt, triggering another orgasm of your own. Drool runs down your chin as you tremble and moan out, Suguru groans in your ear and takes the blade from your lips to kiss you passionately. “D-Do you f-forgive me daddy?” You croak out as you look at him with heavy eyes. His raven hair brushes against your cheek as he whispers, “Oh.. Oh princess….. Not even a little.” 
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A/N: Somewhere along the way during my….. research I ended listening to Badjhur annnnd I haven’t been the same since.. But anyways! Thank you so much for reading!!! 🖤
tags: @fuyuaika @ykimobessed @smolbeanzzz @bontensbabygirl @euvwia @etherealmaya @macsimagines @hoshigray @biscuitsngravie @tojisbutterfly @bunz-lover also!!! If you don’t see your tag it’s because tumblr wouldn’t let me 😭😭 I promise I haven’t forgotten about you 🥺🖤
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