#that what do you want me to be nearly killed me

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 10 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: A fight turns into something beautiful. Turns into what could be your last day on earth.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/rape/death, hinting at suicidal thoughts (only briefly and not really serious, but I'll put it here nonetheless), body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, (rough) sex, oral sex, switch, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The tight smile.

It was all you needed to see to know you were in great, big trouble. It was really disappointing though, considering how good the day had started.

When you woke up, right after having a short, restless sleep, you saw him lying beside you. And for once, ever since you had gotten here, he wasn’t awake. No, he was deep asleep. His beautiful  eyes shut tightly and his expression one of peaceful relaxation. You hadn’t ever seen him this perfect before.

It was nearly ridiculous. Just a few hours earlier, he had ravaged you in a way that left you feeling sore and used, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but somehow you had a feeling last night was different. It wasn’t the sex per say. It was the way he got angry and you felt you couldn’t get through to him, even if you truly wanted to. And what was far worse than all of it, was the threat.

The threat.

What did it even mean?

I would never kill you. At least not unless you gave me a reason to.

It wasn’t even a subtle threat. He didn’t try to hide that he was twisted and dangerous. Dangerous for you, if you pushed the right buttons. You had done so quite some times by now, but luckily you were still around. But how much was too much?

What would make his mind go blank and cause him to swing an axe at you?

Shoot you right in the face?

Gut you in the middle of the-

You shuddered and took a long, deep breath to calm yourself. This wasn’t going to happen. You wouldn’t anger him to that degree. And yet, you couldn’t keep yourself from thinking about it.

What could possibly piss him off enough, to trigger such an extreme reaction?

If you went out and fucked someone else?

Or if you spilled milk on the coffee table?

You took another slow breath and looked back at his peaceful, sleeping form. It was hard not to love him, when he was like this. Sweet. Peaceful.

Vulnerable.

You hadn’t even seen vulnerable, regarding him. Not really. You didn’t know his name, his family, his backstory or anything else that truly mattered. All you knew was which buttons to push and it would make him slap you. You had his age. And his sexual preferences. You knew he had some kind of dangerous job, but you had no idea what it was about. And you knew he was twisted.

Utterly and entirely twisted.

But you saw none of that as you watched him sleep. All you saw was a handsome man, the most handsome man you had ever seen, even with the faint trace of a scar on his cheek. You still hated the sight of it. Not because it would have done anything to his attractiveness. No, he was very obviously still perfect. It was the fact that he got hurt.

Someone hurt him.

You were surprised just by how angry the thought made you. He was always so confident. It was his choice to either be angry and take it out on you or to be gentle and spoil you with affection and gifts. But it was his choice. He was the man. He was in charge. He was the epitome of strength.

And someone hurt him.

Him.

A part of you was almost tempted to think yours.

Someone hurt your man.

But you pushed the thought away just as quick as it came. He was hardly your man.

Your bane, your curse, your horror. Yes.

But not your man.

When he stirred slightly, you were pulled out of your thoughts. It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for him to blink his eyes open. When he finally looked up at you and met your gaze, a hint of surprise flashed over his features. But he schooled his expression into a soft smile effortlessly.

“Good morning, my little owl.” He purred. “You’re up early.” He raised a brow and smirked slowly. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Your face flushed, but you didn’t feel the need to deny it. It was pretty obvious anyway.

“I did.” You said quietly. “I couldn’t help it. You looked so…peaceful.”

He hummed softly and propped himself up on his elbows, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear with two fingers. “Peaceful? Doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He didn’t seem angry or even irritated that you watched him. If anything, he seemed amused or maybe even strangely flattered.

You shrugged.

“Have you been up for long?”

You shook your head.

He frowned slightly and held your chin in his hand, brushing his thumb over your skin in a gentle way. “You didn’t sleep well. You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

You averted your gaze. What could you possibly tell him? That you spent all night, asking yourself not if, but when he would finally snap and snap your neck the same?

“Look at me.”

You hesitated, but eventually you met his gaze again. His expression was one of thoughtfulness and curiosity and you knew you had to give him something. He wouldn’t stop pestering you otherwise. You thought for a moment, before you finally gave up. You didn’t trust your ability to lie to him. He would see right through it and punish you for trying to deceive him.

“It’s about last night.” You murmured quietly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but eventually he relaxed his expression and let go of your chin. With a soft sigh, he murmured back: “Was it too much for you? Too rough?”

You thought about the best possible way to answer this. Eventually you came up with something you would have hoped would be the perfect solution. “I’m still ashamed.”

“Ashamed?” He frowned.

“Because a part of me enjoys it.”

He hummed softly. “We talked about this, sweet girl, but I’ll say it again and again. You have nothing to be ashamed about. First of all, it’s not your fault you turned out like this.”

“That’s kind of the problem.” It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. It did bother you. Just that the life threatening thing was worse. “I feel like you enjoy what we do, because you simply enjoy it. And I think I enjoy it, because I feel the constant need to get hurt and degraded, because of…because of what happened to me.”

He regarded you with a long, thoughtful look. His eyes softened somewhat and he was back. The man who supposedly cared about you came back, after a long, rough night. He sighed and rolled over so that he was on his back and staring at the ceiling. All the while he stretched out his arm and pulled you along, curling you into his side. He didn’t look at you as he spoke and his tone of voice was almost emotionless.

You couldn’t tell if you preferred this over the anger. Probably not.

“Did I ever tell you about my father?”

You froze. What? No. He hadn’t ever told you anything about himself that mattered. Let alone his family. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t even have a father.

But all you managed was a small, breathless shake of your head.

He hummed softly and played with your hair as he spoke, still keeping his voice cool and measured. He never met your gaze. Almost like he couldn’t. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to appear nonchalant or if he truly didn’t care. You hoped for the first one.

“My father had some creative ways of punishment.” He hummed. Oh, God. “Similar to your mother, I might think. Just more blood. And a few…other things.”

You held your breath as he spoke, feeling utterly sick. The fact that he had so subtly and smoothly threatened your life last night was suddenly the last thing on your mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, sweetness. I was always a little different from other boys my age. I wasn’t interested in the things the others were. I liked different things. Darker things. But I’m pretty sure, had it not been for my father…” He hummed. “He did some nasty things. Really nasty. And not only to me. To my mother as well.” He turned to face you fully, while you still lay frozen and staring at him with bated breath. All the while he caressed your face and spoke in this soft voice, like he was reading from a children’s book. It was eerie. “That might be one of the reasons why I am always in control.” He smiled briefly. “Especially sexually.”

You just kept staring at him. He hadn’t said it outright and he probably never would, but you could tell there was something. Something dark and terrible, something that still haunted him, even after all these years. And it made you sick to the core. The fact that his father, his own father, had hurt him, it made you feel nauseous. And especially, angry.

“So, I should probably be grateful to him, don’t you think?”

You knew you weren’t supposed to say anything to that, anything about that at all. No matter how terrible you felt, no matter how badly you wished to comfort him. He would get angry, because he would think of it as pity. You were sure. But you still had to say it.

“Your father is a sick man.” You said quietly. “And you didn’t deserve whatever he did to you.”

“Oh, I’m aware, my sweet, darling girl.” His face lit up in a soft smile. “I was just a boy. A twisted one, maybe. But still a boy.”

It made you feel as uneasy, as you felt relieved about it. At least he acknowledged it. He had no fault in his father’s cruelty. At least not back then.

And at least there was something. A tiny reminder that he was human, that he was real, that there was something akin to flesh and blood that made him similar to you. Not the fact that it had happened. Oh no, you would have changed it, were you in the power to. You would have bled and suffered, if only it meant to free him from the burden of his past.

No, but the thought that he told you about it. He had a father. A mother. A family. He had a childhood. A life. He was real.

You lay in silence for a long while. Of course you wanted to say more, to comfort him and hug him. To kiss away the fear he had probably felt as a little boy. You wanted to take him in your arms and make him whole again, puzzle him together until he got reunited with the love he was so desperately missing all his life. What about his mother? You asked yourself. But you thought now wasn’t the best time to ask. You didn’t want to risk making him angry, when he wasn’t so far. He hadn’t ever shared as much of himself. You didn’t want to say anything. And, you suddenly realized, you were afraid to pressure him.

So you said the next best thing. In the silent hope, that one day he’d trust you enough to let you in.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You said very softly. His head perked up and his expression softened. No anger in sight.

“My sweet, caring girl. The ghosts of my past are no more than that. And don’t you worry. I got my revenge.”

You bit your lip and rolled onto your side, facing him properly. The thoughtfulness in your eyes turned into something else the longer you looked at him, a mixture of concern and gentleness. He didn’t seem to mind. He let you stare without interrupting your thoughts. It was a peaceful, comfortable silence.

“How did you get your revenge?” You asked quietly, before you could stop yourself.

He smirked and stretched out his arms behind his head.

“I killed him.”

A part of you had suspected as much. But another part of you, the naïve little girl that you somehow still were, felt horrified. He killed his own father. And yet, that other part of you whispered softly in the back of your mind.

Did you expect anything else?

You thought back to your mother. Had you ever had a gun in the wrong moment-

No. Never. You couldn’t kill anyone. Not even a fucking fly. You were the type of person to chase them out of the window, instead of crushing them.

It wasn’t enough to calm you down and he seemed to notice.

“Are you alright, sweet girl?”

You were going to die anyway. Why not speak freely at least?

Forget his father. He’s dead. But you’re not. Not yet at least.

“You scared me last night.”

His brows furrowed. “When we-“

“No.” You said in a soft tone and slowly sat up, wrapping the sheets around your body. “I mean, yes. Kind of. But that’s not the problem. You scared me when you said…when you said you would kill me if I gave you a reason to.” Your expression and your tone of voice were almost child-like. Innocent and curious, not at all trying to guilt-trip him. Just a girl, scared for her life. Her sanity.

Herself.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He said softly as he sat up as well. He reached out to pull you on his lap, but you pulled back. He frowned, but he didn’t protest.

“I was simply-“

“What could get me killed?”

It was so sharp, so matter-of-fact, that it made him pause for a moment. He looked genuinely caught off-guard, like he never expected him to ask him such a question. And like he wasn’t sure how to answer it.

“What?”

“What could I say or do that would make you kill me?” You asked in a soft voice. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, but you tried to stay strong. You needed to get a point across. You needed to know.

He thought for a moment, before he leaned back and narrowed his eyes in a thoughtful frown.

“Another man.”

Cheating. As if you really were anything to each other, right?

Such a normal thing. People got killed over cheating all the time, didn’t they?

Or did they really?

“Another man.” You whispered. “Okay. What else?”

He hummed softly. “If you left me.”

“If I left you?” You meant it in a way as if saying; how would I be supposed to leave you? There aren’t even fucking windows here.

He nodded. “When you leave me, you’re no longer my girl. And I don’t have a reason to keep you alive, if you’re not.”

You swallowed thickly. How very refreshing. He was being honest at least. Wasn’t that what you wanted? And you didn’t know if this was better or worse. You had expected as much.

“Anything else?” You whispered hoarsely.

“No.”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “No? If I don’t cheat on you or leave you, you won’t-“

“No.” He said again, in that infuriating, calm tone.

“And if I insulted you?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “If I hurt you? If I-“

“Don’t get me wrong.” The menacing bastard was back. “You don’t get to trample on me, sweet girl. In fact, you know what happens, if you do all that. You’ll get punished. And that didn’t change.” He narrowed his eyes further.

He took a long breath to calm himself and finally said: “I just didn’t want you to be terrified for no reason. I’m sure there are a few more things you can do that will definitely get you killed. So, try not to push my buttons too much. Don’t experiment. Don’t think you get any kind of power. All you are is my girl. Mine. Mine to use. Mine to torment as I please. You’re my plaything. My toy.” He got angrier with every word and you were sure, more than sure, you had done something terribly wrong.

“Mine to use however I see fit.” He gritted out. “Because that’s all you are to me.”

Every word stabbed a wound deeper and deeper into your soul. He didn’t love you. You weren’t an idiot. But a part of you had hoped, hoped so desperately, that you were anything more to him. Anything of meaning. Anything he cared about. Anything he thought about and smiled, when he went off to his mysterious workplace. Anything at all.

But you weren’t. You were his plaything. His fucktoy. His doll.

His girl.

Your face burned in shame and your guts churned painfully. You slowly looked down at your hands and folded them in your lap, while you kept the blanket pulled up to your chin.

“I wasn’t-“

“Yes, you were.” He hissed and roughly pulled your chin up, to make you look at him. “Did you hear me? You’re nothing more than a thing for me to use, a doll, something to dress up in a pretty dress and take my anger out on. Did you get that through your goddamn, thick skull? You’re nothing. Nothing at all.” He spat out.

At this point, you felt indeed like he had stabbed you. The knife was still there on the carpet by the bed. How very reckless. You could have stabbed him last night, didn’t he think about that? No, he was tired or maybe he just trusted himself to have broken you enough not to ever hurt him.

It was true. You wouldn’t ever hurt him. Not like that. That one punch was as far as it could go.

And now, as you sat there and listened to his cruel words, a small part of you suddenly wished he hadn’t bluffed, hadn’t used the knife as a way to find relief in his twisted mind. A part of you wished you weren’t there, to listen to his cruel reminders. The reminder that you were nothing.

Nothing at all.

You felt your hands shake, just the same second your lip quivered.

He was so angry, so furious, he hardly even recognized your presence. He wanted to make some point known.

You understood it now.

He would never love you.

But you? It was too late for you. You already loved him. And he was breaking your heart.

All your life you thought that couldn’t happen to you. You always assumed you were far too numb for these things.

A tear rolled down your cheek and you stared firmly down at your lap. Your hands were shaking furiously and your body shook with the sobs you choked back.

By the time he looked up again and saw the state you were in, his anger immediately disappeared. Something akin to horror took its place instead. He rushed forward without even thinking about it and held your arms tightly, tilting his head down below and staring up at you, to make you look at him.

“Wait.” He said quickly. “Wait. I didn’t mean it.”

You were stuck between pushing him away and letting him console you. But you knew there was probably nothing that could ever bring you back. Your heart, already broken and bruised, had just somehow been pieced back together by him, only for him to crush it again under the palm of his hand, under the cruelty of his words, under the weight of his actions.

You decided to push him back instead. At least for once, you tried to keep a semblance of dignity. It was a lost cause, but it meant something to you.

He let out a surprised exhale, but quickly rushed forward again, trying to get ahold of you, but this time, you struggled.

“Get off of me!”

“No, you need to listen to me!”

“No! No, get the hell off!”

“You need to listen!”

You struggled even harder and pushed him back, clawed at his skin and within seconds you found yourself in the middle of a physical fight. So far, he hadn’t tried to slap you or bring you to your senses anyhow, he just tried to make you focus. And when you hit against his chest or pushed him back by his shoulders, when you scratched his arms and pulled on his hair, he let you. Without retaliating. He let you.

You were just waiting for him to snap. A part of you might even have been hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, because he had just hurt you so terribly. But he didn’t.

And when you pushed him back against the mattress, he let you.

And when you straddled his lap, he let you.

He even let you intertwine your fingers and press his hands against the bed.

He just let you.

You stopped struggling. Stopped fighting him and stopped trying to provoke anything.

You were on top him, your hair falling over your shoulders and framing your face like a waterfall. Everything else was suddenly gone. All that there was left were him and you. He stared up at you, his eyes wide and his expression one of quiet fascination. Of course he allowed you to take control. After all, all it needed was a tiny bit of strength from him and he’d have you pinned to the floor. But this time, he didn’t. He didn’t protest, didn’t fight back, didn’t even flinch. He allowed you to take the lead. He allowed you to take control of him.

When the thought hit you, you nearly choked on the air you breathed. And you breathed, heavily and quickly, until your breaths mingled into one. You leaned further down, so close that the tip of your nose almost touched his. His chest rose and fell quickly. You could tell, even though you kept your focus on his face.

“You meant it.” You whispered breathlessly.

He stared at you with his mouth slightly agape and then he slowly shook his head. “You’re more.” He whispered back.

More than a toy?

More than a doll?

More than just his girl?

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t allow yourself to hope, because if you did, the next time he crushed it, it would be ever harder for you to find back to yourself. And did you really want to risk that?

You shook your head, ready to come up with the next bitter, biting response, when his words caught you off-guard.

“You’re not only mine”, he said quietly. “I’m also yours.”

God, this was confusing. And slowly you felt yourself get as dizzy and nauseous as you would have on a rollercoaster. You hated rollercoasters, because you were afraid of them. You hated them, because you never went on one.

“You’re two people at once.” You whispered breathlessly. “How do I know, when your evil twin will be back?”

He smiled slowly. Even now, even when you felt heartbroken and furious, his smile meant so much to you. It made everything seem beautiful. Everything was easier. Nothing hurt.

Until it did.

“I know.” He whispered. “Maybe you could try and put him in his place, every once in a while.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. Did he really allow you to take control? Just like that? Was it a trick? Was it a game? A joke? Something even more evil he’d come up with?

Whatever it was, you were dying to find out. Because you were sure, you’d get punished anyway. So, why not make use of it?

You took a shaky breath and leaned further down, so close, until your lips almost touched.

“You really didn’t mean it?” You asked in the ghost of a whisper.

His gaze briefly wandered down to your lips, before he looked into your eyes again.

“No.” He whispered back. “Not even I am that dense.”

That nearly made you smile.

But just nearly.

Instead you did something else. You leaned further down, until your lips finally touched his. The kiss was feather-light and hesitant. The touch was so gentle, that you caught yourself asking yourself in your head, if it really was the same man.

He was letting you kiss him. He didn’t try anything. Didn’t try to part your lips or pull you closer. Didn’t try to push your legs apart. His hands were still motionless under yours, all that he did was slowly caress the back of your hands with his fingers.

He participated in the kiss. He kissed you back, obviously. But all he did was mirror your touch.

You were in control.

You gasped against his lips. You had no idea what to do. It felt odd. Maybe even wrong. The only things you had ever fantasized about were to get controlled by someone else.

Controlled by him.

And for you to control him, it sounded like an impossible endeavor. It felt like one, even more. But there you were. On his lap. Slowly guiding the pace.

You swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what to do.” You whispered into the kiss.

He hummed very quietly. “Imagine I’m the good twin.” He whispered back and pulled back just enough to look at your face. “There is no right or wrong. Just do whatever feels good.”

You bit your lip as you watched him closely. It could still be a trick. But in the back of your mind, you knew it wasn’t. It was an attempt to heal you. Heal him as well, maybe. You were both damaged. Both two fragments, incomplete and alone. Was it possible that you could heal each other?

It sounded strange in your head. You wanted to be controlled. And he survived off the feeling of being in control. But maybe, just maybe, this was what you both needed. A role reverse. A chance to grow. A chance to connote. Just this once.

To become one, whole thing.

You took a deep, shaky breath and brushed your lips over his. You were still nervous. But you tried to do what he said. Just do whatever feels good.

And maybe it would.

You hesitantly, almost shyly, ran the tip of your tongue along his lower lip. His reaction surprised you. He moaned. You really expected him to get off on nothing but cruelty and violence. But somehow the feeling of you, of being with you, in any way, seemed to be enough.

You needed to try it. The shift. The control. Even just this once.

You slowly parted his lips with your tongue and yours met his in a timid, careful movement. He was still the one guiding you. But the biggest reason was, that you had no idea what you were doing. But he was holding himself back. You were on top, pressed against him.

He was yours.

Your man. Your psychopath. Maybe even your lover.

The kiss went on and your movements became more and more confident. You didn’t actually care what you were doing, as long as you heard the soft moans he tried to suppress. And every time he did, you couldn’t help but moan, too. Your tongues tangled in a sinful dance and you slowly slid your fingertips over his wrists and up his arms. Until you eventually reached his shoulders. His neck. His hair. His cheek. His chin.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were breathing. All the time you expected him to push you away, to reject you, to stop you. But he never did.

Your hand stilled against his face and you pulled your head back to look at him. To see if he was going to stop you. Mock you. Hurt you some more.

But his expression was more earnest than you had ever seen before. You could see the way his throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed and the small, tiny frown of focus on his face. He looked much more mature in that moment than he usually did. When he wore that twisted smile, he looked younger. Carefree. But in that moment, he looked like a man who had seen life.

And death.

And taken a part in it.

He slowly parted his lips, when your fingers stilled against them, inviting you. Your mouth fell open and you inhaled sharply as you felt his tongue dart out.

“God, what are you-“ You stopped yourself and instead released the softest moan, when he ran his tongue along your index finger. His hand gently circled your wrist and he pressed his lips against the back of your hand. Your knuckles. And eventually each finger.

You watched him in awe, realizing you were only ever falling deeper for him.

What was it with that man that you loved him so much, despite all the pain he put you through?

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. The watching, the silence. You squeezed his hand and your head dipped forward. Your lips found his neck and you made a point of kissing each and every spot of skin you found on the way. His eyes fell shut and he took a shaky breath.

“No.” He whispered. “Wait.”

You immediately froze, expecting the inevitable rejection. But instead, he bit his lip and slowly slid his hands under your nightdress. The calloused skin of his palms ran up your back and he gently slid the material up, until he finally managed to pull it over your head and onto the ground. His gaze wandered from your face, down to your neck, where it lingered and eventually further down to your breasts and your stomach.

“God.” He whispered breathlessly. “God, you’re perfect.” He bit his lip again and met your gaze. “Let me worship you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you tilted your head to the side, only to feel his lips brush along your earlobe and eventually over your neck. You closed your eyes and sighed softly. It was the best feeling in the world.

His lips caressed your neck and his tongue occasionally darted out, drawing a moan from your lips. He moved with devilish slowness, a torturous pace, slow enough to make you melt into a puddle of desire on top of him. A part of you almost wanted to beg him. Beg him to go faster, to touch you harder, to take you. But you didn’t. Because another part of you wanted to savor every second of this.

When you felt the wet heat of his mouth move lower and embrace the sensitive skin of your breast, you felt your eyes roll back in your head. The sigh that came over your lips was more of a moan. You gently buried your fingers in his hair and played with it. Every time his tongue slipped out to run over the curve of your breast, you felt your hips press down against his own on pure instinct. You felt how hard he was, painfully so. But he didn’t press his hips up against you, he didn’t even try once. He was skilled at ignoring his own need, when he wanted to. He made you feel like a princess. Like all that mattered in the world were you.

You squirmed and shuddered when he moved underneath you, brushing his tongue down a wet path on your stomach.

His hands encircled the back of your thighs and he held you firmly, his fingers gently digging into your skin. And he moved. Lower and lower. Until you felt his hot breath kiss the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A soft whimper left you and you bit your lip to keep yourself from begging. He was going to give you whatever you wanted. Today, there was no need to beg.

He slowly but firmly pushed your legs apart, and settled in-between them, still lying on his back and ignoring his own ache. He shot you a pointed look, before he finally stuck out his tongue and rolled it over the warm wetness of your need.

“Oh, God.”

He hit every right spot at the first try and you could no longer stay silent. His grip on your thighs tightened and he silently encouraged you to move. Move. Take what you want.

You swallowed a shaky moan and began to tentatively move your hips. It didn’t take long for you to figure out how it worked, how you had to move. It was so easy and the pleasure rolled over you like a warm bath.

“Oh, God.” You whispered again, tightening your hand in his hair.

He did the most sinful things, sliding his tongue inside you and pulling it back out, running it along every spot, embracing your center of pleasure with his warm lips and it felt like Heaven. He knew where to kiss, where to lick, where to suck and where to flick his tongue. He knew everything. And in that moment, you didn’t care one bit about where he gained that knowledge.

Because he used it on you.

And he’d be using it on your for as long as you were his girl.

And you wanted to be his girl for the rest of your life.

“Yes. There. Right there.” You gasped out, moving your hips again and silently begging him to continue, to give you what you wanted, to give you him.

And he did nothing less than that. He kissed you like he’d kiss your lips, he tightened his grip, he didn’t let you back away. His mouth was firmly attached to your body, eager to give you everything you wanted. Letting you ride yourself to bliss.

Which was exactly what you did. You didn’t even realize it, by how suddenly it happened, but your release rolled over you like a flash of lightning. It felt more intense than ever. You felt everything deeply and he didn’t stop, until he was sure, you were entirely spent and satisfied.

You were still gasping for air, when he finally released his grip on you and looked up at you with a soft expression.

You stared at him, trying to catch your breath. All you wanted was to say something, anything, but no words came over your lips. All you managed was the gentle touch of your palm against his cheek. He smiled slowly and covered your hand with his own. Then he slowly moved back up, so that you’d straddle his lap again.

“How was that?” He whispered.

“Fuck.” Was all that you managed.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, but no trace of mockery. Just satisfaction and a tad bit of pride. You forgave him. You would have forgiven him anything.

“Can I?” You finally whispered. You needed to know, if you were still in control.

He smirked. He looked so confident. Just like you always knew him. Confident and strong. In control. And yet…

“I’m all yours, baby. Ride me.”

You bit your lip. Your face flushed the tiniest bit, but you nodded. Now, this was making you really nervous. You had seen videos, but were you able to do it yourself?

Why not? You thought. Why not?

You leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss. Still slow and sensual, but you poured all the passion you felt for him in that kiss. And he responded in kind. He didn’t try to take control of your mouth. Instead he moaned against your lips, every time your tongue brushed against his. He ran a hand down your back and squeezed your behind firmly in his hand.

“Fuck, I need you to ride me or I’m going to die.” He groaned as he bit your lip. You responded with another moan. You still felt his hardness press against you, hard and ready and needy.

God, the thought alone. The thought that he wanted you that much. It drove you insane.

You swallowed thickly and carefully ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach, down his waist, until-

You smiled. You missed his throbbing, aching need and brushed your fingers gently along his thigh instead.

He glared up at you, a hint of desperation behind the repressed anger.

“I should have known this would come.” He hissed.

Your smile widened into a grin, as you teasingly caressed his side instead.

“What? I’m just doing what you do.”

He released a frustrated growl.

“You-“

“Come on.” You whispered. “Let me have this. Just this once.”

He was still frustrated, but the look in his eyes softened the tiniest bit.

“But I want you.” He murmured and you swallowed.

“How much?” You whispered. God, this was fun.

“How much?” He asked incredulously. “Can’t you feel how much?”

You hummed in the same way he normally would. So innocent. So devilish.

“Paint a picture with your words.”

He exhaled sharply. But eventually he calmed down and wrapped his arms around you gently.

“I need to be inside of you or I’m going to die. I’m going to die, I mean it.”

“Keep going.” You whispered. “Talk to me.” While you spoke, you shifted slightly on his lap, gently grinding down on him and letting him feel you. Just enough to make you gasp, not enough for him to enter you yet.

He bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

“I want to feel you.” He murmured. “I want to fuck you. I want to be one with you. And I fucking want to cum inside you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you sighed.

“Keep going.” You responded in a breathless whisper, as you ground down against him again. The friction was enough for your both to snap your eyes shut.

“I want you to cum.” He whispered back. “I want you to cum so hard, that it’ll make you cry.”

“Fuck.” You whispered breathlessly and buried your face in his neck. “Fuck, yes.”

You swallowed again and pulled your head back up, enough to rest your forehead against his.

“Let me move then?” You whispered. “Please?”

He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “But fucking get to it.”

You released a shaky sigh. You kept your forehead pressed against his and stared into his eyes, intense and deep, while you slowly spread your legs further. You shifted again, your movements a little awkward and insecure, but eventually you felt him press up against you and you felt his tip press against your entrance. And then you slowly lowered yourself down onto his lap. You felt him fill you, but it happened so slowly that you felt every bit of it. And all the time you kept your gaze fixed on his eyes. His reaction. Every moan, every sigh, every twitch. All of it was enough to make you moan in return. You slowly lowered yourself further down, until you felt him all the way. And when you did…You didn’t move. You stayed like that. Just feeling. Just feeling all of him.

And the look in his eyes was worth it.

You had never seen him this soft, this vulnerable before. Not even when he told you about his father. His eyes were softer than ever before and you suddenly realized; you had never seen him this needy. This desperate to feel you. You were sure, just a second more and he would either take control or beg you. But you couldn’t let that happen.

It was his first time to let someone else take control after all.

And you couldn’t have him begging. You couldn’t have him do anything that would make him feel ashamed, when he was so unabashedly doing everything in order to make you happy.

So finally you moved. Slowly and carefully, very unsure still. But you moved. And he moaned. And he moved. And you moaned.

You had never felt him this deep before, this hard, this raw.

“Ride me.” He whispered breathlessly. “Ride daddy’s cock, baby.”

Your face flushed even more, but all you could focus on were his words. You movements became more forceful, more frantic, more desperate. And as hard as he tried not to move at all, it was simply impossible. He pressed his hips up against you, letting you feel him, so hard and God, so desperate.

“Yes. Yes, babygirl, just like that. Let daddy fill you up.” He groaned out.

With every thrust, every move, you felt yourself get closer yet again. It felt like a fantasy.

“Yes. Yes, my sweet girl, my baby, my darling, my love-“

His eyes widened frantically. He panicked. You could tell. So did you. On the inside. But on the outside, you pretended. You pretended all you could, that you hadn’t heard it.

The L-word.

The word that nearly broke you.

No, you hadn’t heard it. He had never said it. It was just a slip-up. A simple mistake. Nothing to get hot and bothered about.

When he realized you didn’t react, he slowly calmed down again and tightened his grip on your hips. His own movements became more and more desperate, until he was pounding into you from underneath.

“Fuck, yes. Cum for me, my babygirl. Cum for me, my darling. Take every drop of my cum.”

His words were enough to drive you over the edge. With a sharp inhale, a breathless moan, you felt your own orgasm hit you again. And he went over the edge right with you.

Your lips just an inch apart and your eyes fixed on each other.

Deep.

And raw.

“Yes.” He growled. “Oh God, yes. Fuck, yes. My girl. My girl, my...” His voice cracked and he came with a roar. He pushed his hips against you with a fervor that nearly left you bruised from the inside and it made your release drag on and on, until you felt you were about to take off to the sky.

It took you a few seconds, but when you both finally came back down from your high, you realized you were still staring into each other’s eyes. You mouth slightly agape and gasping for air, your brows furrowed and your bodies still connected in the most intimate way. You didn’t want him to withdraw yet. You wanted to feel his release run along your thighs. You wanted to feel dirty like that and at the same time you wanted something else entirely.

Stay close.

Stay together.

My love.

The word kept echoing through your mind like a poem, like a curse.

Like a death warrant.

My love.

He buried his hand in your hair and gently tugged on it.

“That…was…”

You had never seen him speechless before. The sight stirred so much in you.

You idiot girl. He hurt you, he hurt you so terribly and all you wanted right now was him beside you, at all times, maybe with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly.

God, you were just as insane as he was. Probably even more so.

He was a psychopath. What was your excuse?

You tried to distract yourself from your thoughts and so you decided to take control a last time. Your head dipped forward and you kissed him. With a tenderness that made your heart ache. And he responded. With a softness that left you breathless.

My love.

Half an hour later, you finally managed to get your hands off of each other. After you finished your bathroom routine, he invited you to the shower with him. You’d join him in a minute, you decided, while you were on your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Your mouth felt dry, your whole body did actually.

You felt sore as hell, but God. God.

The memory of it made you smile. You had never felt more loved in your life. Never felt more special, more desired, more…

A sound made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked up from the ground. What you saw made your heart stop.

The door.

The fucking door.

You mind went blank and your heart stopped beating.

The fucking door was open.

You swallowed thickly. Was it a test? Probably. Did you consider leaving?

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped into the hallway. The front door was open and there was that visitor’s terrace with a glass door attached to it, which led to the great staircase of the apartment complex.

It was a test. Or something equally cruel.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if he truly made a mistake? He was only human after all.

You stared at the glass door like you would have stared at an alien.

This was probably your only ever chance. To flee. Escape.

Get back to…

To what?

To normality, you told yourself.

To safety.

A lump formed in your throat. Did you want that? Did you even want to leave?

Even if it wasn’t a test, did you truly want to leave him?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. It almost felt like acid and it weighed like a heavy stone on your heart. The thought of sleeping alone again, of never seeing his silly smile again. Even the twisted one, you’d miss.

The thought of never feeling his lips on yours again.

His hands in your hair, his voice in your ear.

His everything.

Him.

You were his girl.

You couldn’t just up and leave. What was there in the world for you?

Maybe this was exactly your destiny. Him. Him. Him.

He was all you needed, right? He took care of you. He provided for you.

He loved you. In his own, twisted way.

My love.

You couldn’t, you decided. You couldn’t leave. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t ever-

The sound of someone’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, but to your horror, it wasn’t him. Your eyes widened impossibly when you saw the form of a man approaching.

He looked like a janitor or something like that. A man far past his prime with greying hair and a kind smile.

God, you had missed kindness.

But no, no, you were his girl. You were his girl. You wouldn’t ever leave.

You took a step back like a cornered animal as the man approached and said something to you in Korean. When you backed away even more, he stopped and his eyes widened in surprise.

He kept talking to you, kept speaking in that reassuring tone of voice.

“I…don’t…understand.” You breathed out.

You didn’t even realize how you must have looked, terrified and broken. A faint mark on your cheek. Your clothes crumpled. Bite marks, love bites, more marks on your throat.

He frowned slightly and tilted his head to the side.

“Miss-“ He said in a thick, Korean accent. “Miss- The man that’s live here- The man- Is he-“

In that moment, you felt it. His presence was so prominent, you didn’t need to hear him call out to you. You just felt it. He came in, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet from the shower. He most likely came to look why you hadn’t come yet.

You quickly spun around and met his gaze, your expression horrified. Your eyes were so expressive.

The door was open. He came by himself. It wasn’t my fault. Please! It wasn’t my fault!

Something hard flashed through his eyes, but it was only visible to you and it was only there for the blink of an eye. And then it was gone and it got replaced by the tight smile.

A tight, polite smile, directed at the janitor in the doorway. He spoke to him in Korean and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You stared at the ground, completely horrified.

Oh no, you thought.

Oh no. This is it.

_____________________________

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@hayakamis-blog Thank you for your lovely request, I loved the idea and I hope it turned out the way you hoped!

Author's note: I'll be honest with you, guys, this chapter cost me YEARS of my life, omg. I wrote 5000 words yesterday and then realized I didn't like what I was writing, so I deleted everything and did this today instead. I hope it was the right decision! On a super exhausted note, I'll try to answer all of your sweet, lovely messages in time!!! I'm not even exaggerating, a few of them really made me cry. Not almost, but for real. I don't know what I did to deserve all this kindness and love, but I really, really love you all! SO much!

[rafesheaven]

I need handyman!rafe smut right now! The thought is making my brain mush because I just know he’s gonna go completely feral when he finally gets to lick into you. Like he def will start by eating it through your panties, till he gets impatient and is pulling them off and stuffing them in the back pocket of his jeans while he starts feasting like a starved man. Like pleaseeeee😫😫😫😫😫

warnings — handyman!rafe, groping, teasing, dry humping, dirty talk, rafe eating you out through your panties, panty stealing (common trend w him), oral (f. receiving) wc — 1k (missed my icky man sm + got carried away ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა)

handyman!rafe m.list

rafe walked you up to your apartment after your date, not necessarily ready to leave your side just yet. “thank you for walking me to my apartment; you didn’t have to do that,” you smiled softly, digging through your purse for your keys. “i know i didn’t have to, but i wanted to, plus i need to make sure you got into your place safely,” he leaned against the doorframe. “this entire complex is one of the top ten safest to live in,” you bickered.

“can never be too safe, doll face," rafe tsked, watching you pull your key out from your purse. "i guess you're right," you hum, inserting the key into the lock and twisting it until you hear the faint sound of a 'click'. you stood there for a second as if you were having a debate in your head.

pushing your nerves to the back of your mind, you turned to face him, “would you want to come in for a bit?” your soft voice rang through his ears. he nearly had to pinch himself; he had to be dreaming, right? sure, he's been in your apartment countless times to do his job, but this was different.

you took his hand in yours, locking the door behind you when the two of you entered your apartment. “tryin’ to get me all alone, huh?” rafe teased, plopping himself onto your couch, “maybe,” your flushing face giving you away. "maybe? why else would you ask me to come in?" he smirked, grabbing your hips to pull you onto his lap.

rafe grasped the back of your neck, his lips molding into yours within seconds. his hand on your hip slid to the small of your back, pulling your body into his as close as possible. he nipped at your bottom lip, teasingly sucking it between his own lips, making you moan.

he swore he'd bust in his jeans at the sound, "jesus...'m trying so hard to behave." he groaned, "but you're killing me." you giggled against his lips, a gasp replacing it when his tongue slipped into your mouth with ease. his hands cupped your ass, lifting you off his lap to settle you flat onto the couch on your back.

your lips were glossy with a combination of your spit when he broke the kiss to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses onto your jaw and neck. you yelped as his teeth nipped at your flesh, his tongue following suit to soothe the sting. rafe was painfully hard, his bulge straining against the denim of his jeans. he pulled your legs to wrap around his hips, pressing and rolling his into yours, "feel that? feel what you do to me, doll face?"

"y-yes," you stammered, your hips bucking against his. rafe's hands moved under your top, palming your breasts. his thumbs rolled and pinched your hardened buds through the lace of your bra. your clit catches onto his clothed cock the harder he grinds against you. his lips find yours again, silencing your pathetic whimpers, the thinness of your skirt barely acting as a barrier between the rough denim of his jeans and your panties. "m-more," you whined, causing a deep chuckle to rumble through rafe's chest.

"more? what more do you need, hm? my fingers? my mouth? or maybe my cock? gotta use that pretty mouth to tell me, or i can't give it to you, sweet girl," he taunted. "anything, please, rafe! just need you to touch me," you begged, desperate for the slightest ounce of his touch.

“fuck…anything?” his mind already made up, his cock twitching in his jeans at the thought of what he’s been wanting to do for months. you propped your upper body on your elbows, watching him snake his way down your body, leaving a wake of wet kisses onto your tummy. he fisted your skirt in his hands, dragging them off your hips and carelessly tossing them aside. his large palms ran up your thighs, pushing them apart to slot himself between them.

his breath catches in his throat when his eyes meet the wet spot in your panties. "barely touched you, and you already ruined these pretty panties," he rasped. you mewl as his tongue licks a stripe up your folds to your clit against the soaked material. "shit, been dying to taste this sweet pussy," he moaned, your wetness seeping through and coating his tongue.

you squirmed under him as he licked and sucked your sensitive bud through the pink lace. rafe was growing impatient; he couldn't wait for a second longer; he needed his tongue on your bare cunt. he pulled back, the lace now translucent from being ruined with your arousal and his spit. his fingers tucked into the waistband, dragging them down your legs, "gonna save these for later as my personal souvenir."

he stuffed the pair into the back pocket of his jeans before hooking his arms under your thighs to pull them over his shoulders and yanking you forward. "prettiest pussy i've ever seen," he groaned, burying his head between your legs. his tongue slipped through your slick folds, "and the fuckin' sweetest."

your back arched off the couch, his tongue circling your puffy clit before closing his lips around the bud. your hips jerked against him, his nails indenting into your skin. "shouldn't ask for more if you're gonna try to run from it," rafe hummed, pinning your hips to inhibit you from moving away.

your jaw goes slack as he ate you like you were his last meal; he's desperate and has been dying for this moment, and now that he's finally got a taste, he's not letting up. your head fell back into the pillow when his tongue delved inside you. "please…" you whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut. the tip of his nose grinds against your clit as you shamelessly rocked your hips. your sweet whimpers and moans did nothing but spur rafe on, his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud over and over.

a choked sob travels up your throat, your orgasm ripping through you when he harshly sucks at your poor clit. he greedily lapped at your sweet release, pulling himself away to press a kiss to your inner thigh. he gently set your trembling legs down, crawling back up to hover over you. "god, you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that," he muttered, dipping his head down.

you taste yourself on his lips, his hand inching lower between your bodies. you gasp into his mouth at the feeling of the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on your poor sensitive clit, “you like that?” rafe whispers. “mhm! you whine, “good ‘cause ‘m not done with this sweet little cunt. i plan on burying my face between these thighs all night.”

taglist: @oceandriveab @rafescorpsebride @hauntedfawnn @cameronsprincess @starkeysbabygirl @rafesangelita @nemesyaaa @whinyangel @rafesthroatbaby @rafescvntyclubgf @zyafics @rafesbabygirlx @dollyfiles @eerielamb @heartsforvin @ilovefiction4lmen @jjslaybank @littlelamy @sturnioloshacker @rafesbows @6r4cie @carolineisdelusional @starkeysbebe @momoewn @kazanskied @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafeslovergirly

[my-castles-crumbling]

key - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - TW: mentions of walburga and orion's A+ parenting - word count: 463

“This is useless,” Regulus hissed, nearly-flinging himself in a chair and placing his head in his hands. “It’s impossible, Potter. It’s just…not going to happen. Thanks for trying, or whatever, but you can give up. Tell the professor you’ve worked off your detentions and moved on.”

From a few feet away, the older boy sighed, trying to dispel the annoyance from his body. “Reg. You’re one of the most talented people I know. I know you can do it, alright? The key is to focus on that happy memory, and just…let the Patronus build off of it.”

At this, Regulus gave him an icy look. “And what happy memory would you suggest, Potter? The time I was five and my mother screamed at me until I cried? How about when I was ten, and my father hit me so hard I had a bruise for two weeks? Or maybe over the summer, when both of my parents told me they would kill me if I ever tried to marry a man?”

Both boys stared at each other, shocked by Regulus’s confession. But after a moment, James swallowed and tried to focus. His brain was a swirl of thoughts, and as he cast around for something to say, he spoke without fully thinking through the consequences. “What about the other night?”

Gray eyes narrowed, and James felt a zing of nerves shoot through his body. “What about it?”

They hadn’t spoken about the way they’d run into each other a few nights ago in the middle of the night. How they could have nodded to each other and moved on, or even tried to get each other in trouble, but instead chose to walk together, talking about anything and everything, their hands brushing together, until the sun rose.

“It was…well, it’s a happy memory for me,” the Gryffindor murmured, feeling like he was facing a dragon.

Regulus stared at him for what felt like a lifetime before standing and raising his wand. For one fleeting moment, James thought maybe the other boy was going to hex him, but then he murmured, “Expecto patronum!”

For the first time, silver mist burst from the tip, illuminating the entire classroom. It wasn’t a full Patronus, but it was a huge improvement.

When Regulus stopped casting, he turned to James, eyes wide with excitement and surprise. Something the Gryffindor couldn’t name hung in the air, and everything in him wanted to take a step closer, to pull Regulus in his arms, to bury his face in his hair and congratulate him.

But instead, he said softly, “That was amazing, Reg. I knew you could do it.”

And Regulus gave him the most stunning, genuine, disarming smile he’d ever seen. “Thanks, James.”

He fell asleep thinking of that smile.

[a-boros-named-seamus]

Oh this happened to me too!

My first grade teacher was utterly Convinced that i was, in her words, slow and refused to let me try advanced math and reading material, so my mom had the school district go ALL OUT on the testing for ADHD and a few other things (she brought in my aunt, a teacher, and instructed her to be in full Teacher Garb for it), and when the examiners presented their results, it was to my mom, my aunt, the principal, and my teacher. They ALL had basically the same thing to say: He is polite, talkative, extremely bored, and an extremely bright kid. Also, a very high degree of ADHD.

And then she tried to get me to finish my "number scroll" (write out numbers from 1-1000 on a scroll type thing) before she'd let me do the advanced math. My mom very nearly killed someone over that, because OF COURSE i wasn't doing it well. I was bored out of my skull.

Other recurring themes throughout school:

Teacher: "Well he's using this word, but we dont think he really knows what it means, and he really shouldn't be using words he doesn't know"

Mom: "Seamus, what does [word] mean?"

Me: [definition of word]

Mom:"Can you use it in a sentence?"

Me: [does so]

Teacher: "well alright then"

Also things like me finishing the assigned reading way way too fast, or mom making the school library let me take out chapter books in kindergarten, and my mom having to keep stopping me from correcting people's use of grammar and vocabulary because "no, they really really don't want you to correct them on it, especially not in public".

(One of my favorite classes was sophmore english because i'd basically blaze through the book the unit was on, then play on my tablet in class because i was consistently able to jump to the passage the rest of the class was on and just. Start talking about it, and doing so intelligently and coherently)

[danwhobrowses]

Goodness this is like the third episode in a row begetting discourse among the cr fandom. For me this discourse has two perspectives where the division depends on whose perspective you're looking at;

For the armies it was 'We've been sent by the gods and are here to help you stop Predathos as we pla-wait, you're a vessel of Predathos? Isn't that just like Ludinus planned??' which yeah is valid from their perspective

For the Hells it was 'We just came out of 4 back-to-back battles with Ludinus and Predathos itself, we have a solution to save the gods but change the dynamic but we want to discuss it privately with the gods first and now you're trying to kill us!?' which is also valid

What puts me more on BH's side is that we have the context; BH are allowed to be terse when people try to kill them and fail, least of all allies who don't ask for an explanation before asking their god to come down and smite them. They're not villains because they snarked at the person who attempted to sic their god on them, and it's not as if Imogen sic'd Predathos on them in retaliation. Once again they are met with the thankless job and burden that they neither wanted or asked for, but was thrust upon them anyway. With all the times Bells Hells have been criticized for being aimless and indecisive it seems a little strange to criticize them now for being focused and decisive.

Could they have explained from the start? Maybe. Would it have caused a different reaction the moment they said Predathos is in Imogen? Probably not. I can't tell you why they didn't come out of the Cage and immediately explain because I'm not the players; perhaps they wanted to avoid the hysteria and conflict, perhaps they were drained from the fight and wanted to wrap up the episode, or perhaps it was just down to Bell's Hells, as with all CR campaign parties, being infamously bad at communicating, I don't know.

But it's times like these where it's worth reminding that this is a DnD show, nerdy-ass voice actors having fun, it can't always be clean and clear-cut storytelling every second. And sometimes as a fandom we need to take a step back so we don't get ourselves stuck, because we're probably making it deeper than it is and getting annoyed at each other over our interpretation of two groups from the same side getting annoyed at each other. Just, take a breath.

[lay-z]

battered and bruised | 1/3

Synopsis: Captain Price won't tolerate you risking your life on a mission again.

Pairing: alpha!Captain John Price x fem!omega!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse; comfort fic; humour; blood and injury; morphine/medical drug usage; fraternising; teammates/friends to lovers; dub-con; sexual/suggestive content; a/b/o dynamics; cussing; fluff (Some of these apply to upcoming parts!)

Word count: 2.2k

🖤 masterlist

Location: Hereford/UK | TF-141 HQ Date: Friday, 24/01/2025 Time: 00:37 a.m.

A door is flung open and then you’re harshly pushed and shoved, nearly sending you stumbling and crashing in your heavy boots before you barely catch yourself on the edge of a sturdy table, head spinning as your eyelids blink rapidly. 

Your sight is somewhat blurry, dust and eyeblack smudging your vision, white-speckled stars dancing and flickering in the corners of your eyes in the semi-darkness of what must be some vacant, random briefing room. 

The door slams shut behind you with more force than necessary, making the surrounding windows tremble in their frames, and then the room is filled with thick, accumulating tension as you feel Captain Price’s piercing glare on the back of your skull, his tangy scent surrounding the space, making you bristle like an animal caught in a trap. 

His voice is sharp and jagged, a combat knife slicing through heavy silence when he snaps at you: “You wanna explain that little stunt you pulled earlier, Sergeant?” 

“Oi–!” You huff, rolling your aching shoulders underneath your heavy tac gear as you turn to face him on wobbly knees; swiftly pulling your black balaclava off in one smooth motion and taking a greedy breath while tucking the fabric into an empty pocket of your cargo pants; revealing your dishevelled hair along with a thin, bleeding cut on your right cheekbone. 

“We finished the mission successfully, innit?” You counter briskly like the bloody smartass you are, though you usually never dare to adopt a tone like this with Price, not even in the privacy of twosomeness, and you gulp a gasp of air, eyes widening as you realize your mistake. 

This isn't John, your packmate and friend, but Price, your alpha superior. 

Price’s steel blue eyes darken another shade as he steps forward with a grim frown, tilting his head slightly, the look almost murderous. He stops in front of you, tips of your chunky boots touching now, before he grabs your chin with his gloved hand, lifting your bruised face up towards him. 

“You almost got yourself bloody killed, you goddamn fool!” He snarls, eyes scanning over the cut on your cheek before he lets go of you roughly. “You weren’t supposed to get that close; do you understand me? Never!” 

You tut, scrunching your nose in a small snarl like a disobedient pup baring its baby teeth at his rough manhandling, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes while your supple omega skin pounds and burns around the cut, irritated and raw. 

“Sir, I took those fuckers out efficiently, giving you and Gaz the necessary time to take out the main target–” you explain, trying to stay calm though your voice keeps wavering, “Call me a fool all you want, but you know I’m right, Captain.” 

Price growls at you as you continue to talk back to him; eyes hardening and turning to a shade of navy blue while his jaw clenches so tightly, you’re surprised it didn’t break yet. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, trying to calm himself down as his alpha pheromones turn too heady and aggressive, causing your gut to clench and your throat to tighten as you hold back a submissive whine. 

“That wasn’t part of the bloody plan, and you know it, Sergeant! Shouldn’t you be better at following orders by now? Ya could’ve gotten yourself–” He stops mid-sentence, his buff chest deflates with a rushed exhale, lids narrowing and zeroing in on the gnarly cut and bruises on your face once more. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath and the roughness in his voice makes you shiver in your boots before he reaches up with both hands to cup your face this time, gentler and tenderly; thick thumb lightly brushing away coagulated blood, making you wince and flinch, and melt simultaneously. 

“That needs to be taken care of, dove,” he says much quieter, his anger now replaced with worry as his frown softens and the wrinkle between his brows smoothens out. 

A tingling sensation spreads over your face, making it feel hot beneath his touch, like someone tugging on your hair so tightly, your skin is pulled taut while the tips of daggers are wrenched into your eye sockets, prodding at your brain and scraping inside your skull. The sudden pain makes you dizzy and sway.  

Time slows down for you, crawling along like thick tar, though, it merely takes seconds. 

With fluttering lashes, your eyes flicker up to stare blankly at his ruggedly handsome, dirty face; pain and adrenaline lowering your inhibitions and qualms, all reason melting from your brain and running out of your ears in an instant as you catch another whiff of his alpha scent. 

Cold bones covered in rich dark chocolate, wrapped in ripe tobacco leaves and presented to you. 

“Sergeant?” 

Swallowing down a mouthful of foamy saliva, your black pupils dilate as your wide doe-eyes flit down to stare at his lips as John speaks up again, and in a moment of weakness, your omega instincts manage to slither from your grasp despite the strong suppressants you take religiously and you reach out to clutch and curl your gloved fingers into the front of his tac vest to pull him to your level for a rash, first kiss. 

John freezes the second your soft lips connect with his; initial clumsiness balanced by raw fervency make his chest rumble with a pleased growl, and he finds himself kissing you back for a second, fingers carding through your hair and cupping the back of your neck, applying some pressure; sighing as he finally gets that ardently longing taste of you before his brain screeches to a halt; duty and regulations forcing him to act and contain his alpha nature, to be the reasonable one again. 

He pulls back with a sharp curse, lips smacking and stealing another peck before a string of saliva connects his bottom lip to yours. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He breathes harshly, uncurling his mammoth hands from you reluctantly before stepping backwards, running a hand through his short, brown hair in frustration. “Bloody Christ, Sergeant,” he huffs, “–you’re not... We’re not supposed to–What are we doing here, huh?” 

The feeling of his lips on yours, the taste of him melting on your tongue like hard candy, bursting on your tastebuds, and his beard scratching your sensitive skin, was enough to distract you from the throbbing pain and fuzziness in your head momentarily, though now it’s hitting you again full force. 

Inhaling a sharp breath through clenched teeth, your eyes widen as you stammer for an answer: “I–I–I’m–” you stutter, heart now hammering in your throat as your ears start ringing. “I’m sorry! I–I don’t know–ah!” 

You wince as you pinch the bridge of your nose harshly, and John can merely stare and watch you struggle to speak while his heartrate increases, strong muscle slamming into his ribcage underneath his layers of gear and clothing; both thoughts and emotions all over the place uncharacteristically after you’d kissed him without so much than a friendly premonition. 

Then, he steps forward again, pushing your hips back against the sturdy table behind you, large hands grasping the front of your tac vest more desperate than he’d like to admit. “You’re sorry?” He repeats in disbelief. “You kiss your superior just like that and you’re bloody sorry, Sergeant?” 

“Y-Yes, sir. I–ah... Fuck,” you curse and groan, squeezing your eyes shut as the splitting headache worsens; barely registering the way John has grabbed you by the shoulders now. “Please–” you whine, unable to keep the pathetic sound concealed this time while you reach out to get a hold of his strong forearms, finding purchase against the table as you lean back.  

As soon as your soft whine is torn from your delicate throat, alarm bells go off inside the Captain’s head as he ignores the pleasant shudder running down his spine and focuses on the need to protect and take care of you blossoming behind his ribcage instead.  

“How are you feeling?” He asks, eyes filled with worry as he witnesses you practically falling apart in front of him and not knowing why is driving him mad already. “Jesus, you look like you’re gonna pass out any second now, dove.”  

Wrapping an arm tightly around your waist despite the bulky gear covering both your bodies, John pulls your smaller frame as close as he can get you; securing you against him. “Let me help you, okay? I’m taking you to the medbay. Just breathe for me and calm down. We can’t risk you getting sick–” 

You feel even weaker in the knees now, but you manage to loop your arms around his neck somehow while you take eager little sniffs of his calming scent at this proximity, and as soon as John notices you trying to seek out his comfort, he swiftly unzips his combat jacket and tugs at the tight collar of his compression shirt to expose more of his scent to you, mumbling to himself. “Damn it, honey, why is my life never easy with you?”  

A pleasant tingle runs down the length of his spine when the tip of your nose grazes along the curve of his neck cutely, narrowly missing his sensitive scent gland as you breathe in his scent, and John’s jaw clenches while his mind short-circuits at the featherlight contact. He should be able to resist it, being an experienced SAS Captain and all that, but he’s slowly realizing how powerless he is when you’re all submissive and vulnerable for him like this. 

“Hit my head... pretty badly when–when I grappled and–an' took out that ah... one bloke,” you explain in a muttered murmur while John hums affirmingly and starts leading you out of the briefing room, down the long hallway towards the nearest elevator, making you lean heavily against him with his arm curled around your waist below your vest. His jaw is clenched tightly, his face set in a frown once more as he tries to keep his simmering anger at bay. 

Given the chance, he’d rip that fellow apart with his bare hands. 

Pulled away from his violent thoughts, his attention shifts again when the bright fluorescent lights along the ceiling crackle and switch on automatically, filling the eerie silence inside the building at this hour, and causing you to groan pitifully as you squeeze your eyes shut immediately. “Ouch... Please, make them stop!” You mewl before twisting and turning your face to bury into his shoulder for protection like a lost, helpless kitten, and John feels something else stir in his chest, something heavy and warm that slows him down. 

“You hit your head, and you didn’t tell anyone?” He hisses, though it’s lacking harshness, and he gently pushes his hand into your hair, along the side of your head until his fingers shield over your temple as he tries to block out some of the light. “Fuck me, Sergeant, you’re too bloody stubborn, ya muppet.” 

He’s never truly witnessed you acting like an omega; always too guarded, too stoic and professional; constantly drugged up with military issued suppressants and scent blockers while the knowledge about that has always sort of peeved your alpha teammates, including John himself, leaving them worried and itching to order having you to throw them away recklessly, make you go natural, knowing each of them would more than willingly take care of you. 

Almost subconsciously, John leans in and sniffs your hair; catching a slight whiff of your scent, though it’s still heavily suppressed, and he swallows down the rumble in his chest, ignoring the flutter in his stomach as he thinks back on that kiss. “And we’re gonna have a long discussion about that kiss, too, when you stop being so bloody delirious.” 

With another breathy whine of pain, you practically curl into his side, holding on tightly despite his cussing and scolding; despite him being your superior. “Don’t cuss at me,” you whimper, nuzzling your face into his shoulder as he keeps guiding you towards the elevator that will take you down to the medbay. “I’m sorry... for the kiss, John.” 

John croons lowly in his chest as you apologize, trying to soothe your pain and distress. He hates that he can’t smell you, which means he can’t read you properly; it's like trying to read the most interesting novella through a veil. And he hates your apology, too, not wanting to hear it.  

He huffs sharply as he adjusts his grip around your waist, stopping in front of the closed elevator doors before pushing the button for it with his free hand. “Don’t talk back to me, you little brat.” John straightens and grumbles half-heartedly, trying to keep his professional demeanour up here out in the open around HQ, though the smallest smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when your soft snicker reaches his ears. 

The elevator doors open with the faintest gust of wind, and he catches another whiff of your scent, though– 

His heart drops into a pit as he freezes, pupils dilating instantly.  

A bouquet of wildflowers, resting on a pile of fresh white linens, surrounded by an assortment of candied fruits; succulent, soft, and utterly saccharine.  

[floralscented]

♡ㅤSPORTS CAR! with [ dean winchester ] & [ angel!reader ]ㅤ (18+!!)

. . . dove really likes dean's car. or, let him drive it real far.

notes, i was going to post a dean & angel thing for his birthday... better late than never! have a sports car by tate mcrae inspired drabble as an apology<3 THIS IS SMUT! MDNI! also i don't think it needs to be said, but don't attempt this at home. all actions performed by professionals!

★ ˚⋆

dean only needs one hand to drive.

it was once something you marveled at — his innate ability to speed down open streets, tires squealing in the dusty dirt roads, as one hand steered the wheel and the other crept up your thigh.

skills needed to be exercised and pushed to strengthen their foundations. that was along the lines of what dean had said, once, before his fingers reached the button on your jeans to undo them.

even broken clocks were right twice a day. dean did not need both hands to steer the car, as he told you, and he did not need both to drive well.

he pushes a little harder on the gas, the engine revving, the sound of it miniscule compared to the mewling in the back of your throat as you ground your hips farther down on the length of his cock. his free hand rests firmly on your waist, trying to keep you steady as you squirmed.

"do you want me to crash, baby?" he asks in your ear, words a little breathless, "is that it?"

your lips stutter open and closed in a wordless denial, only managing to shake your head instead of mouth out a response. dean's grip on your hip guides your shallow movements farther down onto him, stretching your tight heat around the girth of his thick cock. "no, you don't want us to crash, dove," he mumbles, his breath hot in the crook of your neck, mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder, "that'd ruin the fun, wouldn't it? my pretty dove likes the thrill."

dean shifts a little beneath you, the act making him bury deeper into you, a little gasp falling from your pouty pink lips. he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade in response, a shudder wracking through your muscles at the light touch. "yeah? tell me how much y'like it, dove."

you weren't sure that you had the capabilities to say something coherent in that moment, but you choke on a response regardless. "yes," is what comes out, and even then, it's more of a gasp than it is a word. dean chuckles low and raspy in your ear, bucking his hips up in slow, deliberate movements that make his foot press harder on the gas pedal. the engine revs again. your head tips back into his chest. "dean─"

"y'know how fast we're goin'?" dean grunts into your ear, the hand on your hip shifting to grab one of your wrists and pry it off of its death grip on his muscular thigh. he lifts your hand to his mouth for a second, kissing your open palm, before resting it on the steering wheel. "not nearly fast enough."

the same hand reaches across you for your other hand, and finally, you pull your eyes away from the expansive back roads to watch his movements. another kiss to your palm, the other joined at ten and two on the steering wheel. "what are─"

"do you trust me?"

never have you nodded yes faster before. yes, you trusted dean. yes, you would do anything for dean. yes, he knew this; exploited it often, prodding at what he knew was your sole weakness. dean's hand on the wheel lifts off, both of them now going back to your thighs.

"make sure we don't get ourselves killed f'me, yeah?" dean's laugh is breathless and airy, the same nervous energy that you'd heard that first night alone with him, when he'd taught you how to drive. the circumstances were different now; impossibly higher stakes.

you swallow thickly, jerking the wheel to the right again when it starts to drift into wrong lane. you're distracted ─ dean can't possibly expect perfection from you when your head is in the clouds and spinning.

thankfully, there's no scolding or scathing comment. the only thing that comes is a slight lift of your hips with his grip beneath your thighs as he shifts again, half sitting and half sat up. dean bends you over the steering wheel just enough for you to keep a steady control over the car, and just enough to─

a mixture of the car's revving engine and his panting breaths in your ear and skin slapping against skin overwhelm your senses. he's buried inside of you now, enough to where you can feel each thrust bruising against your cervix.

"what would the other angels say if they saw my angel, all spread out for me like this, goin' 78 in a 40?" his hands move to your ass, squeezing the skin between his warm palms, using that grip to work you deeper onto him. you're forced to keep your head forward, eyes on the road, when all you want to do is squirm and bury yourself back into his chest and cry out.

you barely manage a whimpering, throaty whine of, "prob'bly say─ t'slow down─"

dean laughs heartily this time, his nose brushing against your jawline, pressing hot, wet kisses down the column of your throat. his head lifts, and so does one of his hands, fingers grasping the hem of your dress and pulling it up again from where it'd slipped back down.

a glance in the rearview mirror reveals the fabric held tightly between his teeth. his eyes are downcast, watching intently as he buries into you, his cock slick with your juices. his eyes flick up to meet yours, one corner quirked upwards. "eyes on the road, dove."

you glance back out of the windshield just in time to see a stop sign─ and blow past it. dean's head hits the back of the seat with a thump as he laughs this time, and the lightness in his voice is enough to make you laugh, too. as breathless as him, a burst of adrenaline sparking through your veins.

how long had it been since dean felt this free? part of you wishes to keep this moment going forever, to travel the universe in the backroads as he finds ways to bend you and maneuver you around in every space of his car, to wail his name in every state. the other part knows you aren't going to last much longer. there's energy pumping through your veins that shoots straight down to between your legs, your foot moving to rest over his on the gas, pressing down harder.

you expect an easy, tiger. it wouldn't be the first time that you'd tested a limit and found the invisible edge of a barrier. what comes out of dean's mouth is a rasping groan and a, "there's my girl."

he doesn't say anything after that, which somehow proves to make everything all the more intense. kansas is wheatfields and long, winding roads that never seem to end.

the wind rushes in through the open windows, your hair blowing in your eyes, roaring in your ears. how long had it been since you felt this alive?

it's a passing thought, but it leaves traces of itself in your blood. dean deserved to live a little, sometimes; you deserved to live a little all of the time, to let him teach you all that he knew and relive it alongside you.

dean's finger pries your mouth open, releasing your lip from your teeth. "make that face again n' m'not gonna last."

you smile, a wicked little thing that he's began to call your devil's grin. you sink further back onto him with each of his thrusts, and he groans all over again, something unintelligible in your ear about being wicked and unfair and other whining sounds that sound more like excuses to keep this dragging on.

you don't want the moment to end. he doesn't want the moment to end. but fate had its pretty ways of cruelty, and you were beginning to feel the telltale signs of impending bliss. you move to bite down on your lip again and find dean's finger instead, his mouth trailing a string of kisses down your shoulder blade. "nice try, honey."

with the growth of your relationship came a longer list of pet names. dove, baby, honey, my girl. each one set a fire ablaze in your belly. you stumble on a breathy moan, your eyes briefly squeezing shut before you remember they need to be open, your lives in your hands, held delicately between your palms.

"i'm─" the words are difficult. dean likes to talk for the both of you while he fucks the sentiments and the sentences out of you.

somehow, the grind of his hips and each shallow thrust becomes more erratic. "yeah," dean says in response, and it's no clarification to you, either, what he's trying to say.

silence again, except for the wind listening in, and the car's rumbling engine. you're racing against time and yourself, each gasping breath becoming throatier, whinier, dean's hot breath on your sweaty skin making you squirm, until─

you cry out, fingers tightening around the steering wheel, your legs clenching together and foot lifting off of the pedal at the intensity of it. dean's pace never slows even as your heart pounds, each thrust more slick-sounding from the orgasm. you almost lift a hand off of the steering wheel to stop him, to grasp his thigh and pause, but his cock twitches inside of you against the fluttering heartbeat of your sensitive walls, and there's no point to stopping him.

always in sync, now, sam once said in passing after you and dean had stopped dancing around each other. he didn't know how true it really was.

dean's cock stays buried in you, filling you up with the thick and hot release of his come. he presses his forehead to the curve of your neck, his foot slowly easing off of the gas finally. the car slows, but your hands don't leave the wheel, gripping it so tight that your knuckles have paled.

"m'gonna pull over," you mumble, easing the car to the side of the road, the right half of it treading spurts grass and the left still kicking dust and dirt up in baby's wake. "because i can't see."

dean's mouth curves against your skin; you feel it rather than see it, since his face has not left the spot between your shoulder blades yet. "you're a little adrenaline junkie in the makin', y'know that?" a light kiss to one of the ridges along your spine as he slumps back into the seat properly, tugging you down along with him in the process. "gettin' off on the speed and the danger."

he catches your elbow before you rear it back into his ribs. this part is a common occurrence of your little escapades. your tricks are becoming easy to pick up on. "you start wrestlin' me, honey, i'm gonna remind you how that backseat feels."

supposed to be a threat but you both know it's a promise, a given. as if you could ever forget how the leather of the backseat felt on your bare skin, anyways.

you twist your neck around once you've fully rolled to a stop along the side of the road, just enough to see the glaze in dean's glimmering green eyes. the moon hangs above his head, now, painting him in a wash of pale blue. he's always been beautiful, but there's something about the post-bliss of him that makes him devastating.

his smile becomes shier when he notices how you're studying him. you open your mouth to tell him everything you love about him, overwhelmed with it all at once, but he intercepts it with a warm, lingering kiss to your cheekbone.

your eyes close, face scrunching up as the single kiss becomes an onslaught of them over that side of your face. "dean!"

"mm?" he's not deterred, and again, you want to tell him every way that you love him. love how he loves, love how his dark eyelashes frame and brighten the pale of his eyes, love how he's always gentle even when he's trying to be rougher with you, love how he kisses and nips purple bruises into your neck in the shape of hearts.

maybe you would have said it, too. maybe you would have opened your heart and let himself make a home within it, right there on the side of a kansas dirt road, frogs chirping their own soundtrack to your unconventional love story.

the low fuel light dings onto the dash. the words vanish from your mouth, along with the courage you'd built up in your sated daze.

"how fast you think we can get to a gas station?" dean asks, the mischief evident in his voice, as he nips your earlobe between his teeth.

you sit up straighter in his lap, not even bothering to move yourself out of his lap, off of the half-hardness still buried inside of you. "let's find out."

the tires squeal as you peel out of your temporary parking spot, and you realize, then, that you don't really need to tell him how much you love him. not out loud. his arms slinking around your waist, cheek pressed to your skin and your dress low on your back, trusting you fully to drive his car, was love enough.

notes, the innocence is a virtue sequel i never planned on making but we all deserved. sorry if it's bad or incoherent it was actually supposed to be at least 1k shorter than this.

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @florchids @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[minaharkerdailymirror]

Mina did not feel better when she woke. Instead what she felt was exhaustion followed by different waves of resentment and then nothing. She didn't go out of her way to comfort Daniel like she normally did. She didn't really talk to him at all other than let thim cuddle up to her or making small talk.

She was grateful the last leg of the cruise when Lestat came on board. She handed him the key to her room, took his from him and went back to the bar to drink.

Louis was there, "hi." Jesus Christ.

"Get Armand here and it's a vampire jamboree," she muttered.

He gave her an amused look and put his card down, 'Get the lady what she wants."

"I don't need your charity."

"It's not charity," he said, "I'm worried about you."

Mina nearly bit his head off but she was too tired, and really he had always been far more pleasant to her than she'd been to him. She just could never forgive him for all those men he'd killed in San Francisco.

"Get me whiskey," she said.

He watched her, "You're angry."

"I'm always angry."

"This is different."

She wanted to change the subject, "Daniel and Lestat are in the cabin, I can give you the number if you want."

"I'm not here for Daniel, I'm here for you."

"Oh, a double team is it?" she asked. Lestat gets one, Louis looks after the other.

He seemed amused, "Something like that."

"You two are nowhere near ready enough to be marriage councilors."

He broke into a grin and then laughed, "That is true, but when Daniel's in his spiral, you tend to get ignored. Sometimes thats your own doing, other times it isn't. We've been doing this dance for years now and yet you're the one holding off on being as close as you could be to the rest of us."

Mina was quiet, looked away a bit. What the hell, it was Louis. It wasn't like she was talking to someone outside their family. And it CERTAINLY wasn't like he was looking for anything intimate with her in exchange for talking, "My pain becomes his pain and I have to stifle it because it's suddenly his pain. I had a breakdown working through these memoirs I'm writing just for me and I had to comfort HIM because I was worried what HE would do. I tell him I need to get away, I need him with me. He's suddenly worried about Lestat. Perhaps i'm not a person to him, perhaps I'm just an addiction he has enough of so he focuses on the drug he doesn't have in front of him.'

"You know that's not true, You know he loves you."

Mina knew he was right. She knew Daniel was a complicated person. Very flawed, but she couldn't help but be angry and hurt by his behavior, "HE will give me the big wet eyes, say he's a piece of shit. And then where does my anger go then? It just sits there. I cannot talk to him like I want."

"Then talk to me," Louis said.

MIna hesitated....just for a moment...and then she just pushed herself through and talked to him. Working out her feelings in the past, how she felt about processing them now and the conflicting confusing feelings she had in the present as she dealt with everything around her.

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

[sweetfictionalworld]

Mine

Pairing: The Front Man /Hwang In-ho x Female Reader x The Masked Officer

Requested by anon: Reader being with the frontman, and the black guard just like to tease her and get the Frontman angry. Little did he know that the frontman was watching everything and put them both in their place.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Unprotected Sex, Cumshots.

"Mask off."

You obeyed the Officer's command, holding your gaze to the floor as the handsome man approached you.

"How many times have you been here now, y/n?"

"Five, Sir."

"You know, I've always wondered why a pretty, little thing like you ended up here of all places."

"Does it really matter?" you asked and looked up at him defiantly.

The Officer chuckled and stepped closer to you, running his finger down your jawline. You could feel your heart racing at the closeness of his body and the gentle touch of his finger.

"I guess not. But I know why you keep returning. Is the Front Man really that good of a fuck that you continue killing people just to get his dick?"

Your eyes widened and your face heat up. How could he possibly know this?

"I-It's not like that," you whispered and lowered your head.

The Officer's eyes widened in realization and he smiled mockingly. "Oh, I see. You love him. I'm sorry to say it, sweetheart, but he will never love you back. That man's heart is cold as stone."

"And yours isn't?" you asked, looking up at him again. You known for a long time now, that he wanted you. He was always flirting with you, calling you to his office for no apparent reason, just to tease you. And you would be lying to say that he didn't have an affect on you, he was a handsome and attractive man for sure. And a part of you wanted to make the Front Man jealous, to find out if he really cared about you or not.

The Officer smiled at your question. "You're probably right. In a place like this, who has the time to care about someone? But, it can't stop one from having a little fun."

He palmed your face and you held your breath as he lowered his face to yours, his lips nearly touching yours...

"Officer, back away."

You gasped at the Front Man's voice, the Officer only let go off your face and looked at his captain with a wide smirk, not caring about the fact that his helmet was off in front of his superior officer.

"Sorry, Captain. We were just...having a little conversation."

The Front Man walked up to the two of you, placing himself behind you with his hand on your shoulder.

"I do not share my belongings, Officer. And this one belongs to me."

A pang of heat rushed through your belly at his words.

"Oh? Are you sure that's what she thinks too? That she belongs to you?"

"I know so. Because she does everything I demand of her," the Front Man replied. "Now, sit down, Officer."

The Officer glared at the Front Man but did what he ordered, knowing what the consequences would be if he disobeyed.

"Y/n. Take your clothes off."

A wave of heat rushed through your core at his words and you bit down on your lip as you glanced up at the Officer and saw the spark of interest in his eyes where he sat in his armchair with his legs crossed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. What choice did you have but to obey? And did you really want to disobey him? Opening your eyes, you held your gaze on the floor as you took of your mask and started undressing with trembling fingers, too self-conscious to meet the Officer's eyes.

In-ho smirked where he stood behind you, his dick twitching at the sight of your naked, tempting form.

You shot a glance upwards at the Officer, arousal spiking through your at the sight of his lust-filled eyes staring at your naked body.

"On your knees, y/n."

Cheeks flushed, you obeyed his command and dropped down to the floor.

In-ho smirked and lifted your chin, his voice dark and husky as he spoke again.

"Open that pretty mouth of yours."

You obeyed again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue as the Front Man zipped down his slacks and took out his cock.

The Front Man tapped the head of his cock against your tongue. You flicked your tongue across the slit of the head, earning a breathy growl from the Front Man. Encouraged by his noises, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Slowly, you started bobbing your head, sliding your lips up and down his length. With each bob, you took more and more of him into your mouth until you started to gag.

"See what a good girl she is?" In-ho smirked and looked up at the Officer who kept staring at the sight in front of him. "She does everything I tell her to do. Even here. In front of you."

The Front Man grunted and grabbed your head, pressing you down on his cock and bucked his hips against your face. You choked and spluttered as his length pushed down your throat. The Front Man growled and released the grip on your head, allowing you to breathe. Gasping for air, you stared up at him and glanced over at the officer. A pang of heat rushed through your belly when you saw the cock in his hand, his brown eyes focused on you as he stroke himself.

The Front Man wrapped his hand around your throat and forced you to look at him. You gasped and stared up at the masked man.

"See how much he enjoys seeing your mouth wrapped around my cock? I bet he's gonna love seeing me ravage you."

"Please...," you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together to lighten the throbbing arousal.

"What's that?" The Front Man snickered and lowered his hand down between your legs, slipping his long finger through your wet folds and into your soaked pussy. You gasped and grabbed his arm, moaning with pleasure at finally having something inside your aching core. In-ho growled at the sensation of your spongy flesh gripping his finger and the sloppy noises your pussy was making as he moved his finger inside you.

"You're absolutely drenched. You want me inside you, little one?"

"Y-Yes, Sir...please...," you mewled, nearly sobbing as you desperately rode his finger.

The Front Man chuckled and removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and greedy for more. Your blurry mind was abruptly woken by his cock plunging into you from behind. Back arching and eyes widening, you looked at him over your shoulder, at the erotic sight of him crouching above you and pounding his cock into your gaping, soppy count. You caught something in the corner of your eyes and suddenly remembered the Officer was there. The sight he was giving you sent another wave of pleasure through your belly. He was still stroking himself, his pace faster now, matching the pace of The Front Man's hips. His mouth was half open, his chest heaving rapidly with breathy moans as he watched The Front Man fucking you from behind.

All of these impressions flooding your body and mind were too overwhelming, and you couldn’t control your body anymore as another gush of pleasure swept through your body. Throwing your head back, you pressed your ass back against The Front Man's hips, rutting against him erratically as your orgasm rolled like waves through your body.

In-ho growled and threw his head back at the feeling of your fluttering, clenching walls gripping his cock. He slammed into you one last time, his cock swelling and throbbing as spurts of his thick cum released into your cunt. Your eyes landed on the Officer just as he came, and a fountain of white semen erupted from his cock and painted the floor. You mewled softly at the sight, your pussy gently clenching around the Front Man's cock still lodged inside you as your body relaxed in post-orgasmic bliss. Then, you felt The Front Man's fingers in your hair and you gasped as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at the Officer.

"This pussy will never be yours, Officer," The Front Man snarled. "You understand that? It belongs to me and I can fuck it whenever and wherever I want. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the Officer swallowed nervously and quickly put himself back into his jumpsuit.

"Good. Now, come along, little one. I'm not finished with you."

Face flushed with embarrassment, you stood up and scrambled your clothes together, following the The Front Man with your head bowed, already feeling the burn of his paddle on your ass.

[the-black-manor]

You're the xenobiologist on a spaceship that's studying a lifeform found on one of the planets your team recently visited. It's a mass of tentacles, barely the size of a tennisball, but it's growing quickly and becoming more and more aggressive. It seems to be the most at peace when it's in its hide - one of those little plastic caves you put in a hamster cage - but it will outgrow that, too, by the end of the week. There's really only one place that it can be kept safe that it won't outgrow immediately. If you can't calm the creature, your superiors are going to kill it. You know how to help, and you've grown fond of it, so you volunteer. Your womb will make the perfect warm, dark place.

As you enter your lab, the lifeform goes into a frenzy, slamming itself against the glass walls of its little enclosure. It's grown since the meeting two days ago; now the size of a softball. Your partner closes and the laboratory door behind you, and the locks slide into place with a heavy metallic thud. You take a deep breath, slide your pants off and kick them aside. The creature calms as you approach, waiting to see what you're going to do before it makes its move.

"Alright, you," you address it nervously. "I'm going to open your enclosure, and you're not going to try and kill me, okay?"

Its tentacles, transparent and slimy, feel around the seams of the enclosure's door. You sit in your chair, wheel up to the table, then spread your legs. With a shaky breath, you reach for the latch on the box, then flick it open. Instantly, it pushes the door open and wraps its tentacles around your hand. You check your breathing, trying not to panic as it begins to squeeze.

"Easy now..."

With your free hands, you spread your lower lips, then position the lifeform in front of your opening. It was smart and curious. It would understand.

"You'll like it in there," you promise when it hesitates. "No tricks. Just a nice place to sleep."

One tentacle reaches out and curls around your clit, while another prods at your urethra and a third slips into your cunt, feeling, exploring deep. You grit your teeth as the tentacle in your urethra slides in further and pray that the alien won't choose your bladder instead of your womb. It adds two more tentacles to the one in your cunt, and you can feel it exploring your cervix.

It feels good.

But that pleasure turns to pain as it forces your cervix open and pulls itself partially inside of your cunt, stretching your entrance around its soft body. It could relax, making itself smaller, but it wanted to get a good feel for the space inside.

"That's it...." you breathe. "All yours."

The rest of it slides inside, and you can't help but clench around it. It freezes, but only for a moment, and then it begins to force itself past your cervix and into your womb. That stretch isn't nearly as pleasant as the previous, and you grit your teeth hard as you ride it out. The creature is cautious, going slowly, stopping partially inside, forcing your cervix to remain stretched around its form.

And then it slides the rest of the way in and your body closes around it. It shifts and turns and pushes at your walls, bulging your belly outward until it finds a comfortable position and settles down. And there it remains, your new little friend, content in the warm and dark, where it will feed off of your menstrual blood and continue to grow. How big? No one knows, but even if you were to change your mind, there is no way to get the creature out now. You and it are one, from now until it decides its ready for a new home. If it decides its ready for a new home. It may be content to stay with you forever.

[moodymisty]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊 (𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖛)

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 5 of 5 - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Choose Ralkan

Author's Note: So, you're here either cause you're just reading everything, or you prefer Night Lords. Either way, I hope you enjoy. The damn android tumblr app posted this accidentally again, and i suppose it helped me get up off my ass and finish it. I'm not happy with it, but I just need to finish this and move on with my life XD

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationships:Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord

Warnings: somewhat graphic violence warning, Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language,Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers

Word Count: 2331

You look to Lev.

He’s right; Ralkan’s protection has been little more than smothering. You find yourself now with less freedoms than you'd arrived on the Flamewrought with, confined within your own quarters out of fear of imaginary threats.

Perhaps Lev wasn't imaginary, but the lengths at with Ralkan has gone in which to cage you from him has gone to places you would consider extreme, despite the fact that the Night Lord has done nothing at all.

If anything, the one time you truly needed help, when you were being cornered by astartes, Lev was the one that was there, not him.

But you don't want Ralkan to die; He's been overbearing and suffocating but for Lev to think he needs to be killed is madness.

You wouldn't want any bloodshed if you had anything to do with it, though with astartes, that outcome will always end up being inevitable. It's in their nature, after all.

You suppose that's what Ralkan warned you about. He told you what Lev was like, what his legion was, and you didn't listen. Perhaps this is the consequences of that.

"Wait, Ralkan, d-"

You call to the Salamander who's attention waivers in your direction, allowing Lev to sneak in a solid strike to the man's jaw. He's quick to steady himself, and returns Lev's attack in force- nearly sending the Night Lord to his knee.

You quickly attempt to back out of the way as Lev is pushed towards you, as much as Ralkan tries to grapple him out of the room and away from you. When he manages to do so, gripping the shoulder of his armor and throwing him- the Night Lord stops his own momentum by gripping the frame of the door, Ralkan goes on the offensive and pushes him farther away and out of the doorframe fully.

The only downside to Ralkan's size is how much slower he is that the more lithe, agile Night Lord, who can easily dodge his blows. You try to stay as far away as you can but Throne, you want them to both stop.

"Lev! Stop!"

He doesn't pay any attention to you, too consumed by tormenting the Salamander and keeping out of his massive grip. The two fight so fast you can barely keep track, and the late hour on the Flamewrought means that there isn't someone in radius for you to try and get help from.

You could try and run for it, hoping that they won't kill one another before you get one of Ralkan's brothers.

But if you do get one of his brothers... They'll kill Lev. Without hesitation. He's attacking one of their brothers, one of their captains; His fate is sealed if you do that.

You stop running, realizing what would happen. When you turn to see them as you try and rethink your options, you realize they've moved out of sight. You hear the clashing of armor and blades, the higher pitched sounds of a knife. You hear metal clank and warp, over and over as you try to rush towards it- But it stops.

The hall becomes deathly silent other than the sound of one pair of footsteps, heavily armored.

You don't get a chance to round the corner and look for Ralkan before Lev blocks it, coming towards you. You instinctively take one backstep.

There's no one around, the ship feels so dark and cold. He approaches you; You can see the clouds of his breath as he pants.

"Lev?"

He moves closer coming in like an encroaching shadow, before reaching his hands up towards you. For a second you tense in the fear he's going for your neck, but he doesn't. His hands cradle your face. You can feel the blood that sticks to them, sticking to your skin and running down your neck.

“My little one, do you like finally being out of your cage?” 

He has blood dripping down his nose, but by the time it reaches past his lips, it’s already beginning to coagulate. 

“What, what did you do?”

You don't want to leave; The Salamanders have kept you safe and fed, Ralkan kept you safe and fed. Lev is a complete unknown and the thought of him having you to himself terrifies you no matter how kind he's been to you as of yet.

But Ralkan isn't coming.

"You don't belong to him anymore."

You didn't think you belonged to him to begin with, is Lev seeing something you aren't? Or is it something that's just not there at all, that the insanity of their genefather is making him see?

Ralkan warned you that Night Lords are prone to it.

The madness of the 8th. They loose what little sanity they have, and nothing around them is safe.

Lev grabs you by the ribcage and hauls you into his arms, and the yell In your throat is taken from your lungs much like the rest of your air. The Flamewrought blurs through your vision as a maze of corridors and hidden nooks, before you're soon entrenched in complete and total darkness.

Lev's lips smash against yours, teeth biting and catching your skin. He’s always nippy, like some sort of untrained hound. In a secret thought you suppose he is, in a way.

His body is so much larger than yours it’s so easy for him to cage you in, trapping you against he shoddy metal structure that serves as his cot. You feel his hand trailing up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your clothes up and moving-

“Lev!” 

The door to his quarters slams open, and Lev instinctively goes to reach for his bolter. He stops however, when realizing it's one of his brothers.

“We’ve tried getting you by vox for thirty minutes.” His brother looks right at your barely clothed form and grunts. You're still trying to learn Nostroman, the words are quick and rough, but you're slowing beginning to catch enough that sentences eventually pull together in a way where you can understand the core meaning of them. Most of the time.

“Quit playing around. You’re needed planet side.” He nods in your general direction. “And bring your toy with. She worked the last time. Captain doesn’t want to deal with the commissars himself again.” 

You always work well whenever they need to speak with mortals. You’re easier on the eyes, more convincing. They throw you at baselines and try to have you do work far more suited for a diplomat than a remembrancer, though you suppose they don't care about the difference.

You're a baseline. Do it.

But Lev hates it. They look at you like you’re nothing more than meat, some fruit ripe for the taking. Whenever you return from these sorts of things Lev is oftentimes even more possessive than he usually is, muttering about how you’re far more than talking to pitiful little baselines, to him.

It’s his job to protect you from all of them.

From the moment you first asked if he was ok, he knew you were something special. 

His battle brother kicks something, and grumbles in Nostroman as he leaves the room.

"Are we leaving now?"

You look up at him, his hair falling forward to frame his face slightly. He doesn't answer, and merely decides to lean down and continue wounding your neck with bites as your nails scratch his skin.

"He wasn't even armored. It will take him 30 minutes at least." You whimper as his teeth catch your skin again.

"It'll take you 30 minutes as well,"

You breathlessly say as your feel his hand barge it's way between your thighs once more. Lev looks down at you.

"Watch your tongue. Your attitude overstays it's welcome."

Lev likes when you have a bit of an attitude sometimes, talk back, but only when he doesn't have to fight it. When it irritates him, he expects you to quiet down- let him toy with you.

His fingers tip into your core and you whimper at the sudden stretch, legs spreading as if trying to ease it and accommodate his large hand. He eats up the way you whimper, mouth against the corner of yours, attempting to cram a second finger inside of you shortly thereafter and push them both even deeper.

The shaky whimper you let makes him let out a breathy chuckle, the gritting of your teeth from both pleasure and pain. You wish he'd be less rough, but you've heard things from him; About how much rougher he could be.

It's apparently not common for baselines to survive this long under the ownership of a singular Night Lord. Lev's squad jokes that you are pampered because of it.

Lev snaps at them for it, but are you? Is your mountain of blankets and little light in the darkness of his quarters considered a luxury among the few humans aboard this ship?

"Lev..."

You whimper, feeling him finally manage to seat both of his fingers entirely inside you. They scissor and curl deep within you stretching you, making him smile as your writhe on his hand.

When he pulls his fingers from you, it's impossible not to whine, though it gets cut off when he grips you by the hips and suddenly pulls and flips you onto your stomach.

It's easier for him to have you this way, with how wide his body is in comparison to yours. But the lack of sight makes you jolt as you feel his cock press against your thighs, and you can't help but arch your back trying to present yourself to him better.

He scares you, but you want him. You want him not to chain you down again.

It doesn't take much for the head of his cock to press against your entrance and pop inside, the rest of him sliding into you without much effort. It still stretches but not enough to burn, groaning as he bottoms out in you and the wide expanse of his hips presses against your ass.

The feeling of his warm skin on the back of your thighs he begins to roughly slam into you, and not long later do you lose the strength in your back and legs to stay arched and fall prone on to the cot. He follows you, driving into your cunt and pushing deeper as you clench around him. He needs to grip you with one shoulder to keep you from sliding away from him, trapped under his massive body as his cock threatens to knock your cervix.

His hips slam into your ass, making the cot creak and groan helplessly. You gasp, the air constantly taken from your lungs, hands digging into the fabric of the cot. His weight laying on you is so much yet you know this is only a fraction of him, his forearms holding a significant portion of his weight off of you.

It feels, good; It feels warm and tight you can't help but enjoy it, like you're safe in a little pocket he's left just for you. Everything around him is so cold and dark, It's like he's just a little bit of light to keep you safe.

Lev lets out a deep, chesty groan as you tighten around him, whimpering through your pursed lips as you cum around him. He mindlessly continues to fuck you through it, like little more than an animal, making you squeal and whine and gasp.

He's close, his hips are losing pace and his heavy panting is getting faster; He's losing care for your safety as his hips start to pound down on you hard in the chase for his own release.

These bruises will be deep, this time. You'll feel them aching for days.

When Lev cums his hips stutter before he shoves himself deep side of you, painting your walls and surely your cervix with cum. You can feel the heat of it and the throbbing of his cock as he releases, his muscles tight like readied triggers so close to your sensitive body.

When he pulls from you, you whine at the sudden ache of emptiness and the soreness of his forced entry, the way your entrance flutters and leaks with cum that pools in the squish of your thighs.

"Get up."

He chuckles at you when he himself rises to his feet at the side of the cot, laughing as you struggle and shake to try and move and right yourself. You're unsteady on your knees, cum leaks down your thighs- your presentable clothes are somewhere around here. They're usually hidden underneath the cot, along with a few other things that are kept just for you. You manage to find the respectable clothes you're looking for, the ones he took you from the Flamewrought in, and put them on.

"At least my brothers will keep off of you now that you smell fresh again."

You doubt they will. Fresh unscarred baselines are always a desired commodity; You can't go anywhere without them watching you. Lev has to watch every single corner or else one will snatch you for themselves, forcing you to stay close to him and hold tight to your safety.

"...Let's go."

Lev doesn't like bringing you along for these things, he doesn't enjoy when anyone, let along baseline males look at you, but his leaders demand it. He opens the door to his quarters and what little light comes from inside is unable to penetrate the darkness of the hall.

The Nightfall is always pitch black, and it terrifies you. It's the main reason you've never tried to break from his quarters; This is what is outside of it. There's no options anymore.

"Can you help me?"

You say, reaching a hand out to him. You can't see in this dark, but he can. Your words make him smile.

Lev grabs your hand and wraps his fingers tightly around it, and begins guiding you in the pitch black.

[sams-dumping-ground]

You don't have to. It's up to you either way. You should still get dressed.

Axton picks up the tablet and puts it on the desk. He places his hand on the arm on it. He fiddles with something on it. He seems to toy with saying something for a while before he relents.

...You don't have to listen to anything your so called brother has told you, you know. Not a bit of it. Not even about incest. It's not right. Whatever he said was the cause of the end of the world is probably wrong, too. Probably half of it at least... I left that world because I didn't belong there anymore. My family were and are here. None of them blame me for helping him either but I still do...

Axton doesn't look at Felicia as he talks. His ear flicks, a few images of a world very different to the one Felicia knows pop up on the computer screens in the room, and he starts crying.

I lost nearly everyone I knew to him. All of my friends are gone because of him. Except for my dad, my sister, and someone I considered my enemy. The ones that came to this world that we could are all living in a village nearby. From living all over the world, some of them had never gone to our city, to living in a village scared that a group of people are going to take or kill them because they're not from this world. I have people who consider themselves my fans in that village. Even after knowing what I helped do...

Axton almost falls into his chair, his eyes not moving from the arm on the desk.

He's the one who did this to me. This wasn't some devastating event that happened to me at some point in my life, or some world ending event... No. He did this. He gave me the choice of willingly accepting all of the mods or forcing me by doing it himself. I had to say yes to every. Single. One. My legs so I would be stopped in my tracks if I tried running. My arms so they could do things even if I didn't want them to. A chip in the back of my neck embedded into my spine which I can't remove so I could be tracked. Others mods too...

Axton finally looks at Felicia.

All because he asked me to. I don't know how far I would've gone if he had asked me to... I don't know where I would've drawn the line...

Axton wipes his face. He lets out a short laugh.

There I go monologuing again...

Byrd sits at the top of a high rise, looking down at the street below. He stretches out and lays on his back on the roof, wings stretched to his sides.

Jeez. These are always boring. Nothing interesting happens in the meantime...

*byrd hears jean's voice behind him*

Heya.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Jay Halstead x Reader

Jay really hates your boyfriend

Smut, it's smut 🤷‍♀️

Elijah Wilson. If someone came up to Jay on the street and told him they could give him one million then and there to say something good about the man, well he’d still be showing up to work the next day wouldn’t he? He couldn’t stand the man. Defense attorney, some ivy league silver spoon trust fund kid that didn’t have a single callous on his hands.  Every time he saw him he was wearing a freaking tailored suit for god’s sake. What the hell you were doing with a man like that he had no clue.

You lived in blue jeans and fitted tees. In the winter your change up was either long sleeve tees or henleys. He wasn’t saying you couldn’t doll up when you wanted to, no you couldn’t knock em dead at any gala CPD was summoned to but you were drop dead gorgeous slamming perps to the ground in your gear in his book.  He knew for a fact Elijah didn’t know your favorite band, your favorite coffee order or your time of year. Elijah didn’t know what gun you preferred to carry or what you scored the last time you recertified, he probably couldn’t even tell you your arrest record. Jay could answer damn near any question about you quicker than he could about himself.

He hated Elijah. The asshole had hurt your feelings one too many times, he’d overheard one too many phone calls you’d had with him, Adam had mentioned too many conversations he’d heard you having with Kim. He made you doubt yourself. That was the reason why Jay had nearly kicked his ass on more than one occasion. Once Voight had stepped in and another Kelly had just happened to be in the right place at the right time to keep Jay from catching a bad enough charge that would jeopardize his badge.

Jay wasn’t an idiot to his own feelings. He knew how he felt about you. He had for some time but he wasn’t going to say anything. You wanted the trust fund asshole, so be it. That didn’t mean he had to like it and just because you were partners and friends that didn’t mean he had to be around you too much after the clock struck quitting time, even if it killed him inside a little every time you’d smile at him and ask if he wanted to grab a beer after work or call him for a coffee before work and he’d have to turn you down.

You were tired of fighting with Elijah. It seemed that was all you two did anymore. You had a fundraiser coming up for CPD that as a member of Voight’s unit you were expected to attend. You made a decision that you would talk to Elijah and if the two of you couldn’t come to some form of agreement you’d call it quits.

You drove over to his place and parked your truck next to his mercedes. You had to laugh at the image. You climbed out your truck and headed for the door. You tried it and it turned so you let yourself in “Elijah?” the moment you stepped over the threshold you heard a distinctly feminine moan. That son of a bitch.

Luckily for you, your job meant you could be a sneaky bastard when the moment called for it. You were through his apartment and to the bedroom door before either of them could realize what was going on. You pushed the door open and saw Elijah was on top of some blonde chic, her face down in the pillow and her hands clenched in the sheets as he rutted into her. “Well by all means, don’t let me stop you. I just think I left my shoes here after my last gala and I have a fundraiser on friday” you spoke and it was comical the way they both tried to scurry away from each other.

You laughed when Elijah hit the floor. “Oh honey, you could’ve finished. I seriously just need the shoes. We’re done by the way” he had the nerve to look pissed as he snatched the blanket off the floor to wrap around his waist “And I bet I know who’s bed you’ll wind up in” you stepped into the closet and quickly found the shoes in question before stepping out and looking back at him before saying “If his bed had ever been an option I would have never given you the time of day” then turned and walked out.

You turned in front of the mirror for the third time. The dress was a simple black number, had a high enough slit to give you movement but still modest enough for a decorated detective. Antonio had offered to pick you up so you didn’t have to drive. You were grateful for that. A friendly face. 

You heard your phone ring and checked the time before answering it “Hey Dawson” “I’m outside sweetheart” you smiled at hearing him “On my way out” you grabbed your clutch and slipped your phone and keys in before going out to meet him. At least you would be with your unit tonight, even if some of them you weren’t sure still even considered you a friend or not.

____________________

Jay was standing with Adam,Kevin and Kim when he spotted Antonio walk in with you on his arm? What were you doing with Antonio? His eyes stayed glued to you as the two of you walked towards their group. Your hair was styled and down around your shoulders, the dress you had on hugged everything perfectly and when you moved just right that slit in it made him desperately want to see more. God you were so damn gorgeous, why you ever let some shitty lawyer bring you down he had no idea.

He nodded to Antonio “Bout time you made it” Antonio tilted his head your way “Someone had to pick up your partner Halstead” he cut his eyes at you “Where’s your little boyfriend?” you bought your eyes up to meet his and a smirk slipped onto your face before you said “Probably fucking the blonde I caught him with a few days ago” then you looked across the room “ooh punch. I’m gonna get some” and headed that way.

__________________

Antonio looked from Jay to your disappearing back “Go!” Jay nodded and quickly followed you through the crowd, hand wrapping around your arm “That bastard cheated on you?”

You spun around to face him and looked around “Jay, don’t use language like that in here” he rolled his eyes considering you were just using it and held his arm out “Let’s go for a walk then” you sighed and took his arm. You let him lead you away from the crowd then snatched your arm away “Yes he cheated technically but mentally I’ve been checked out the relationship” 

“I’ll fucking kill him” Jay blurted and you laughed “Well mentally I think I was cheating long before him” that made Jay freeze and look back at you “Huh?” you shook your head, eyes wide “Did I say that outloud?” he nodded slowly “Yeah, what’s mentally cheating?” “Nothing” you replied and he took a step closer, noticing how your eyes went to his lips then back up to his  “I’ll go ask Kev”

You sighed and your eyes dropped “When you’re thinking about someone else, especially to the point that you end up saying someone else’s name..more than once just to be able to get off”  a grin slipped onto his face “You’re telling me you said someone else’s name in bed with that asshole? Oh that’s gold” he started to laugh but then he froze “Wait, who was it?”

You shook your head “Doesn’t matter” he raised an eyebrow “Someone I know?” you shook your head “Doesn’t matter” he took another step closer and that made you step back into the wall, a light sound escaping you when you realized you were boxed in. He placed a hand on either side of your head and leaned down to barely let his lips brush the shell of your ear as he asked  “Who’s name did you say?”

You swallowed hard “We fought more than once over the person, Elijah thought me and the person was too close. Told me to choose between him and the person then when I said the person’s name on more than one occasion it became apparent” he nodded again “Still haven’t answered” his hands came to rest gently on your hips and he saw you close your eyes for a moment before you whispered “Yours”

He had to have heard you wrong. “Did you say that you said my name?” he asked and your eyes flew open “Yes ok? Jay I’ve fucking wanted you for years! The first time it happened I pushed it off on us kissing on that undercover but after the second, third, fourth time I knew I didn’t belong with Elijah”

A lazy smirk worked its way onto his face “Princess if you wanted to scream my name you could’ve asked for the real thing”

Oh this asshole! You just spilled your guts and he was making fun of you! “Fuck you Halstead” You cursed, shoving him away from you and running towards the door. Fuck the fundraiser, you’d get a cab home and tell Hank you were sick.

You’d just gotten outside then felt Jay’s hand around your arm “Where are you going?” “Home!” you almost yelled and he pointed you towards his truck “Then let me take you” “Why so you can make fun of me!” you argued and he groaned “Get in my damn truck!”

You pulled your arm out of his grip but stomped towards his truck. You climbed in the passenger seat and kicked your shoes off in the floorboard while he walked around to the driver’s seat. “If you wouldn’t have ran I could’ve told you that I feel the same. I hated him because he had you” he said then started the truck and pulled out onto the road.

“You want me?” you asked and he cut his eyes at you “So damn much,I want every damn bit of you. The good and the bad. I meant it when I said if you wanted to scream my name you could’ve had the real thing because you could’ve had me wrapped around your finger years ago”

He turned his eyes back to the road and you were quiet for a moment “Pull over Jay” he looked back at you “What?” you nodded “Pull over in that alley and kill the engine” he raised an eyebrow but did as you asked. The moment the engine was off you pushed up the console and turned in your seat “Do you mean that?” he nodded “Of course” you smiled and crawled across the console into his lap, throwing one leg over to be effectively straddling him.

His hands went to your hips and he looked up at you, a smile on his face and the low lights shining in those sea blue eyes “Kiss me Jay” you whispered and god the look he gave you “Yes ma’am” he pulled you down into  kiss and you felt the way his hands on your hips pulled you down closer to him. You rolled your hips down against his and felt the fact that he was already hardening through the dress pants he wore. 

Your hands buried in his hair, deepening the kiss when he rolled his tongue against yours. “Fuck” he muttered against your lips. You grinned as you reached to unbutton a few of his buttons, just enough you’d have access to his chest. “You’re so fucking sexy Jay” you whispered and he grinned “Look in a mirror baby” you leaned forward to press a line of kisses across his neck and his head fell back against the seat “Just like that” he moaned when you bit down just below his pulse point.

You felt one of his hands slip under your dress to tease at your clit through your panties, a low moan escaping you. “I want you Jay” you moaned and he nipped at your throat “Baby let me take you home, I want to take my time with you” you cut your eyes up at him and smiled “Why don’t you come home with me and take your time later? For now just touch me please?”

“Promise me I’m not a damn rebound. Promise me that you actually want me as bad as I want you” he begged and you caught his chin with your hand to force him to look you in the eye “Jay Halstead I have wanted you for years. If I get you now there’s no way I’m letting you go without a fight” he grinned and moved forward to catch your lips in a kiss and his hand slipped under your dress, fingers slipping under your panties to tease at your dripping core. “Fuck baby are you that wet from kissing me?”

You felt your face warm “I told you I want you” one of his fingers slipped into you and your head fell over onto his shoulder, a low moan of his name escaping you at the feeling “Oh I like how that sounds” he chuckled, adding another finger into you. He used his other hand to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. You moaned into his mouth when his fingers brushed across the spot inside of you. 

He pulled away from your lips to kiss down your neck while his fingers kept their rhythm pushing you closer and closer to that edge. When he moved his hand so he could use the heel of it to add pressure to your clit you gasped out his name as your orgasm slammed into you. He continued to finger you through it until your legs were shaking then he gently pulled his fingers out of you and smiled at you as he licked them clean “Damn you taste good sweetheart”

You crashed your lips against his in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, your hands going down to his belt “Please fuck me Jay” you begged and he laughed “You want me to fuck you here?” you nodded “Please, I can’t wait” he couldn’t tell you no. You looked too damn gorgeous, all spread out in his lap, the top of your dress slipping down, your face slightly flushed from one orgasm and your lips swollen from kissing him. 

“Ok baby, I got you” he whispered as he unzipped his pants and slipped his hard cock out. You whimpered when you looked down between you “What’s wrong?” he asked with a smirk. You grinned “You’re a lot bigger than Elijah” he couldn’t help but laugh “Yeah, I figured” 

You lifted up just enough he could line himself up when your opening then slid slowly down onto him,both of you moaning as he filled you completely. He felt a tremor go through your legs and rubbed his hands over your thighs “You ok?” you nodded, letting out a breath “I’m ok” 

You started to roll your hips and Jay’s head fell back against the seat “Oh fuck princess” you grinned as you lifted up then slid back down on his cock. His hands went to your hips, not controlling your speed, just helping you. “Feel so good baby” he praised as you fucked yourself on his cock.

Your dress was bunched up to your hips and his shirt was unbuttoned but you could’ve cared less. Fuck every damn dream you’d ever had about Jay never could have compared to the real thing. “You feel fucking amazing Jay” you whimpered and it was like a switch flipped. His grip tightened and he started to fuck up into you. Your head fell over onto his shoulder and all you could do was hold on. 

“Please don’t stop..fuck..I’m so damn close..fuck Jay..you’re fucking perfect” you weren’t sure what you were saying as he pushed you closer to that edge but when he slipped a hand between you to tease at your clit you felt that building pressure burst and you came screaming his name. He groaned out your name as he found his own release, filling you with his cum and pumping some of it back out with his thrusts. 

He pulled you down against him and held you there as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal, kissing across your lips then neck. Once you finally lifted your head to look at him you smiled almost shyly “Was that a one time thing or is this the start of something?” 

His eyes flickered down to where he was still buried inside of you “God I hope it’s the start of something because if not work is gonna get really awkward when this will be all I’ll be able to think about” you grinned and pulled him into a kiss “Come home with me Jay” he nodded “Yes ma’am” 

He helped you to climb off of him and straighten your dress before tucking himself back into his pants. You didn’t bother getting back in the passenger seat and instead rode right next to him, with your head against his shoulder. Yeah, maybe Elijah was good for one thing, if that asshole cheating finally led to Jay getting you.

[lance-space-mommy]

Defending His Honor

Izuku was never one to be poetic. He was rather straight to the point and people often found the way he described or explained things as childish. Not that it necessarily was a bad thing, but he wasn’t known for methodical speeches.

Even when comforting someone or trying to solve a problem, he was blunt. There was no room for misunderstandings or disconnect. Izuku had a goal and if it involved helping people, he’d be direct.

Something changed when he and Katsuki started dating. Izuku found himself sitting around with his head in his hands mumbling the most tooth-rotting sayings. Maybe someone would find his thoughts childish, but oftentimes Izuku could make himself cry.

With every day that passed, the more grateful Izuku felt that Katsuki had chosen him. It was a genuine dream come true and Izuku wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still, Katsuki was Katsuki. He was brash, aggressive where it counted, and he could be pretty mean when the right buttons were pushed. Izuku loved it all much to the disgust of his classmates.

Izuku had been happily chatting with Todoroki and Iida when Kirishima bursted through the door. The entire class whipped their heads around to focus on the red head who seemed a bit too frantic for a school day.

“Guys! Bakugo is fighting an upper class man!” shouted Kirishima, already spinning on his heel to run off again.

The warm smile that Izuku had been wearing was long gone. As his heart sank further and further, his legs carried him faster.

Izuku could hear the commotion and sucked in a sharp breath when he saw Katsuki and some random older guy brawling in the hallway. Much to no one's surprise Katsuki was winning.

After fighting in a war and playing a major role in defeating the most notorious villain, a simple school fight was as easy as breathing. Still, Izuku didn’t want Katsuki straining his heart more than absolutely necessary.

“Kacchan!”

The crowd went silent and the explosion in Katsuki hand quickly vanished. It seemed that the boy Katsuki had been beating up truly deserved it. No matter what the douchebag did, Izuku would rather have Katsuki by his side during the schoolday instead of risking Katsuki getting caught texting during house arrest.

“Yeah, get your crazy fucking dog just like always,” scoffed the bully. He was taller than Katsuki, but his body was nowhere near as big as Katsuki’s. He was bleeding and still hadn’t learned his lesson.

Izuku raised a brow, stepping closer to the scene. “Dog? That rich coming from a mutt.”

A couple of gasped and faint cheers came from the busy halls. Whenever class 1-A would send a jab at Katsuki, Izuku never felt the need to defend his boyfriend. It was clearly all in good fun.

This loser was not doing any of this in good fun.

“Excuse me? How are you doing to side with the bad shit lunatic? He nearly killed me!” screeched the boy, rising to his feet sluggishly.

Watching his upperclassman slowly rise from the ground was rather awkward, but he felt no remorse for not helping. “Well it seems like to me that you instigated a fight.”

The douchebag let out a breathless, baffled scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” snapped Izuku quickly, letting his gaze harden as he crossed his arms. He could feel Katsuki’s piercing red eyes on him.

In all honesty, Izuku was shocked that Katsuki hadn’t spoken up yet. It wasn’t in his nature to let others fight his battles for him. Izuku couldn’t help but feel lightheaded defending his lover's honor.

“Of course a freak like you would enable another freak. Fine, let him go insane, he’ll dig his own grave then,” spat the student, clearly making a dig at Katsuki’s dying during the war. The jab was way too soon to be made in poor taste.

Izuku wanted to be ruthless. Sure his upperclassmen went low, but Izuku easily could go lower. Still, he wanted to take the high route. It wasn’t to protect himself or seem noble, but he wanted Katsuki to hear just how little Izuku cared about his attitude.

Izuku could feel his skin crawl at the memory of Katsuki dead on the battlefield, his lifeless body covered in blood. It hadn’t been a nightmare nor something Izuku could run away from.

There was no time to hold Katsuki’s body to take a moment to cry. He was fighting in a war  and that battle stopped for no one.

How dare some nobody upperclassman say Katsuki’s brashness was going to kill him when it already happened? How dare a future hero say something so cruel and inhumane. How dare someone who clearly should know better call the two people who saved the world “freaks”.

Izuku was quick to passionately shout, “I do not care for his sanity. I care for his happiness. I care for his soul.”

The hallway was silent, Izuku couldn’t help but cry. He was beyond happy that Katsuki was still alive. He struggled everyday to realize that Katsuki truly wanted him. He was so lucky and he would never let anyone attack Katsuki.

“Maybe you’ve never experienced hardships before or pushed past your own mindset to appreciate those around you, but I do. I question how someone as blind as you can be in a hero school,” hissed Izuku, feeling anger come to the front again.

Katsuki grinned, propping his arm on Izuku’s shoulder. “Yeah, there should be a rule against whiny bitches.”

Izuku lightly snacked Katsuki in the gut. “Way to kill the mood Kacchan.”

Aizawa came rushing down the hallway. It appears word traveled quickly that there had been a fight. All it took was for Aizawa to see tears in Midoriya’s eyes to shout.

“You, my office, now!”

Izuku smirked as the upperclassman had to rise to his feet and follow after a pissed off teacher. If the bully knew anything about UA, he knew Aizawa was not someone to mess with.

As the crowd quickly diffused from a lack of conflict, Izuku and Katsuki were left alone. Izuku sighed, his heart still pounding in his chest painfully hard.

“Izuku.”

“Hmm?”

Soft lips quickly pressed together. Izuku smiled at the welcomed sensation. Katsuki smirked as he pulled back from the kiss.

Without any words being used, Izuku knew Katsuki was charmed by Izuku’s loud confession. Izuku’s wobbly smile spread across his lips and he focused his gaze on the floor.

“I meant all of it,” confirmed Izuku.

“I know you did. Now never say anything like that in front of people again. I should be the only person that gets to hear those words,” grumbled Bakugo, slowly adjusting his bookbag over his shoulder.

“Okay.”

“Damn, these bitches gay,” yawned Jiro, giving away her position.

Uraraka smirked, enjoying the mortified expression on both Izuku and Katsuki. “I guess we shouldn’t have stuck around to check up on our friends.”

“Die!” yelled Katsuki, sensing off a warning explosion. Izuku watched fondly, ignoring the nagging in the back of his mind. Maybe my boyfriend is insane.

(Y'all I absolutely love Queen Charlotte I just had to write a story based off of a single quote)

[slitheringghost]

I think this post is missing the point that it's specifically Lily that Voldemort is terrified of, not James, because Lily is the woman who vanquished him. Voldemort in fact speaks of this very extensively in this scene:

“You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father,” he hissed softly. “A Muggle and a fool . . . very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child . . . and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death. . . .” “You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him — and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen. . . . I could not touch the boy.” “I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman’s foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah . . . pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost . . . ” “I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago . . . for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too. . . ." “Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him.”

Voldemort was blown up and nearly killed by Lily in an extremely painful way, was nothing but a powerless wraith for 13 years because of it, she's already protected Harry once from beyond the grave in PS, and then when Voldemort has finally regained a body and tries to kill Harry again, suddenly Lily's ghost inexplicably comes out of his wand? Of course he's terrified. Voldemort says "there's no mother to die for him" this time... and then said mother appears.

This is reiterated in the fact that this was the original version of Priori Incantatem, before the editors changed it, and so it's truer to JKR's intention:

“Your mother’s coming…” he said quietly. “She wants to see you… it will be all right… hold on…” And she came… first her head, then her body… a young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort’s wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear... “When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments... but we will give you time... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts... do you understand, Harry?”

Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry’s mother had told him what to do, how Cedric’s had made its final request.

There's also a lot of important symbolism around Lily specifically in this scene - I've elaborated on that here (section 2.1) and here.

The significance of the Voldemort - Lily connection is highlighted in several additional ways in this scene, including the fact that Voldemort brings up Lily in the middle of when he says “Who will be brave enough to return when they feel it?” and “Listen to me, reliving family history. My true family returns”… and then Lily's ghost returns. Because Voldemort and Lily are portrayed as familial, as brother and sister, exactly the way Harry and Voldemort are "brothers" - you can read about this more here.

“And he came… first his head, then his body, tall and untidy-haired like Harry, the smoky shadowy form of James Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort’s wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like his wife. He walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear…”

-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Priori Incantatem, pg. 667

I need to talk about this quote. We never talk about this enough. Prior to this, Voldemort only shows shock. But after James and Lily Potter arrive, Voldemort shows fear. The only wizard Voldemort is truly known to fear is Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards ever to live, yet the arrival of the Potters strikes fear in him.

I think this speaks to how powerful the Potters truly were. Not only were they able to defy him three times and live, while most wizards couldn’t manage to do it once, even after he killed them, Voldemort is still wary of James and Lily Potter. There’s a reason that he asked both James and Lily to join him, despite being young and blood-traitor/Muggle-born. There’s a reason Voldemort had Peter spying for over a year before he made his move. There’s a reason that Voldemort specifically chose the moment where they were the most relaxed, and therefore the most vulnerable, to attack. There’s a reason he did not dally and torture the Potters, though he probably would have got a sense of satisfaction out of it, with how much they’d defied him. 

Because Voldemort believed, in my opinion, that James and Lily Potter could pose a threat to him in a fair fight. If they’d had their wands or a chance to prepare, or even a few more seconds to come up with a plan of escape, it would have been a very different battle in Godric’s Hollow. Voldemort did not just fear Harry Potter, ‘the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord,’ Voldemort feared his parents, and what they would do to keep him safe.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: They have a lot of time to make up for.

Word Count: 5,769

Warnings: Smut, marathon sex, oral sex, size kink, bit of a praise kink, unintentional voyeurism, and references to polyamory and past suicide attempts.

Notes: I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read this fic. This one in particular has been a passion project of mine since nearly the initial creation of Lucy, and I am so, so glad that you enjoyed it enough to read all the way to the end! Thank you so much for all the support that you have given me!

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Chapter 22: Hopelessly Tangled

Lucy took in a deep, shuddering breath and pushed open the door leading into the room where she had been staying at Charlie’s yard. A shiver had gone through her when she passed by the red door leading into the washroom, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach. 

She slipped away while Tommy was speaking to Charlie regarding what to do with the opium shipment they still had at the yard. Originally the plan was for Charlie to take the shipment out while the coppers were all distracted by the assassination. But obviously that had all gone to hell, and it hadn’t been safe to move the shipment yet.

Tommy had cast her an alarmed look when she murmured into his ear that she needed to go take care of something in her old room. But he seemed to calm at least somewhat after she squeezed his hand and reassured him that she was okay. It would take only a minute. 

The room looked different without her suitcases in the corner, her makeup and jewelry on the desk, or the fifty million bouquets of flowers that Tommy had sent her during her stay there. It seemed bigger, yes. But also more empty. Barren. 

Her eyes fixed on the bed, mind turning back to all those nights spent laying on it, cold and lonely and crying.

Pushing up the mattress, she grabbed the slip of paper tucked underneath it, then set the mattress down, turned, and sat on the bed. 

Her fingers traced delicately over the train ticket, thumbing over the printed date and time. Rooting around in her pocket, she pulled out her lighter, clicking it on and just about to coax the corner of the ticket into the flame when she heard the sound of the floorboards by the door creaking. 

Looking up, she was met with Tommy standing in the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets and watching her calculatingly, a frown set into his face. Lucy clicked off the lighter, imagining that she likely looked an awful lot like a child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

Closing the door behind him and approaching her with heavy footfalls, Tommy sat down beside her on the bed, cringing at the way that the springs creaked with complaint under their combined weight. Neither of them said anything, both just staring down at the train ticket still clutched between her fingers. 

“I bought it after you said that you were going to kill Mosley for her. I thought that I’d lost you forever, so…” she trailed off, fingers rubbing at the edges of the paper. “I thought it would be better for everyone.”

Tommy was quiet for a considerable stretch of time. His shoulder brushed against hers, his fingers fidgeting with each other. She wondered if that was a habit he’d picked up from her, or her from him. 

“Were you going to tell me?” he asked finally, voice soft despite it only being them in the room. 

“I don’t know,” she sighed. She could sense the hurt coming off of him in waves at that. She shook her head at her past actions. “I look back on the way that I was thinking and behaving then, and it all seems so silly now.”

Tommy shifted, reaching out silently in request for the ticket. She passed it to him without complaint. His shoulders sagged as he stared down at it clutched gingerly between his hands. Lucy cocked her head.

“What?” 

He looked up at her, eyes sad. “If you really want to leave–”

“I don’t. I never wanted to. I thought that you–” she pulled in a trembling breath. “I thought it would be what was best for you.”

He searched her eyes carefully, and she met his gaze steadfastly, daring him to find any lie or wavering in it. Knowing that he would find none. Satisfied, he held out the ticket to her, and she clicked the lighter back on, holding the flame up to the delicate paper. She and Tommy watched as the flames caught, the parchment beginning to curl and smoke before fully catching ablaze. Tommy turned the paper carefully to avoid letting the yellow flames touch his fingers. And once the fire had mostly engulfed the ticket, Lucy snagged the ashtray on the nightstand for him to drop it into. Setting it and her lighter both back down on the table, she leaned into him. His arm wrapped around her, tucking her closer to his chest while they watched the last remnants of the train ticket turn to ash. 

His other hand stroked along her forearm, delicately trailing his fingers down until they brushed against the raised, barely healed scar on her wrist. 

The stitches had come out that morning. Finally. And while it would still be awhile until she could be considered truly one hundred percent healed, it was close enough for her to not need anymore bandaging or sutures.  

“You’re the love of my life, you know,” Tommy said, lips touching to the crown of her head.

Lucy felt like she might’ve been about to burst with love and affection for him. Raising her face, she cradled both his cheeks in her palms, resting her forehead against his. “And you’re mine.”

His hands smoothed up her back, holding her to him. “I got something for you.”

Lucy leaning back to look at him, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Close your eyes.”

She raised an eyebrow, but complied. She could hear him shifting about beside her.

“Alright. Open ‘em.”

She blinked open her eyes, and was greeted with a delicate gold chain dangling from Tommy’s fingers where they were poised in front of her. Glinting in the light on the end of the chain, was a little golden heart pendant. 

“Tommy…” she reached out, fingers brushing over the pendant. It was just small and simple enough to be to her tastes. And she could wear it with her daily attire easily. But she knew just from looking at it that it was made of real gold.  

“You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” she turned so that he could fasten it around her neck. It fell to rest just below her collarbone. “Thank you.”

“I had it charmed,” he said, finishing doing the clasp and dropping his face to nuzzle in her neck. “For good luck. Protection. And love” He punctuated each with a kiss to her throat. Turning around, Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

“Thank you, darling.” She touched his face. “I love it.”

“Every time you look at it, I want you to remember. Remember how much I love you.”

“I will.” Their noses bumped a little on their next kiss, but that didn’t dissuade them. 

“And,” he said–a little breathlessly, she noted smugly. “If that’s not enough. If you’re still doubting it, just ask me. Alright? Just ask me the question. Doesn’t matter the time, or the place, or what else might be on my mind. You ask, and I’ll answer, eh?”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Okay, I promise.”

His hands landed on her hips, tightening as he pulled her closer, an approving growl rumbling in his chest. “Good. Now c’mere.”

He pulled her impossibly closer to him, kissing her ferociously, his hands running over her sides before settling on her hips.

Lucy gasped delightedly into the kiss, hands going to fist at the front of his coat. Tommy’s tongue slid eagerly into her mouth, their kisses growing impossibly deeper with each passing moment. Her head spun a little, and had they not already been sitting down, she may have been at risk of her legs giving out. 

Just as she felt like she may very well run out of oxygen, Tommy broke the kiss to begin peppering his mouth along her throat. Nose brushing along where her neck met shoulder, she felt him inhaling deeply, and when he pushed her coat and suit jacket both from her shoulders, she didn’t stop him. Simply instead taking his own two outermost layers in her hands and nudging them off him, giving her much better access to grope at his biceps and run her hands along his chest. 

With a groan, Tommy began to fumble with the buttons on her waistcoat, pushing it off of her to land with an unceremonious thump on the floor. Warm hands slipped under her white shirt, stroking along her ribs.

“Yes?” he asked, eyes soft when they regarded her, asking for permission for more. She nodded eagerly, pressing wantonly against him. It had been far, far too long since he had touched her. Hands moving more frantically now, they both worked swiftly to rid the other of their clothes. Tommy’s waistcoat joined hers on the floor, while he became distracted after unbuttoning her shirt by caressing her breasts through her bra. Lucy giggled at the somewhat awkward maneuvering they had to do to get out of their holsters, before pressing her lips to the newly uncovered skin of his chest from her unbuttoning his shirt. Her bra was flicked open by clever fingers and flung to some faraway place in the depths of the room. Both naked from the waist up, Tommy scooped her up to press flush against him, lowering her backward to lay on the tiny bed. 

Immediately crawling on top of her, he set to work hastily ridding her of the remainder of her clothes, trousers and underwear pulled away and tossed carelessly to the floor in one quick movement. Legs fell open for him to settle between them, Tommy purring in approval at her nakedness, open mouthed kisses being planted along her neck down to her chest. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered between kisses, tongue circling one of her nipples before making his way down her body. 

“Missed you too,” she managed to get out, hand tugging on his dark hair and eliciting a groan from him. A finger circled over her clit, another groan clawing its way from Tommy’s throat at how wet she was. His burning lips pressed kisses to her thighs, his fingers beginning to work her over, thumb rubbing her clit while he slowly slipped two thick digits inside her.

She was teetering over the edge of an orgasm almost embarrassingly quickly, hands gripping the bed sheets so hard she was afraid that she might tear them. Tommy smirked, head tilted to the side.

“You wanna come? You wanna fucking come, sweet girl?”

Lucy nodded desperately.

“Yeah. You come as many fucking times as you want tonight.” With that he leaned forward, tongue flicking out to lick over her. A strangled cry ripped from her lips, back arching as after only a few expert swipes of his tongue, Tommy had her hurtling headfirst into an intense orgasm.

Grasping tightly at her thighs, Tommy pulled her closer to his mouth, hungrily lapping at her until she was nudging his head away from overstimulation. He sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smirking. Lucy blinked up at him, hand pawing out to rub in interest along his chest, feeling the muscle ripple beneath her as she traced over the shape of his tattoos. Allowing her fingers to dip lower, it was her turn to smirk at the rather desperate noise that Tommy made when she cupped the large bulge in his trousers. She tugged at his belt, eyes narrowed demandingly.

“Off.”

He shifted off the bed for only a moment to strip off his trousers and underwear before crawling back over her, nose bumping against hers, bracing his arms on either side of her head. His eyes were incredibly soft, the icy blue thawed to a warm ocean.

“My beautiful girl,” he stroked her cheek, kisses pressed to her lips. Lucy wound her arms around his neck, thighs going around his waist. His erection burned where the thick length pressed against her inner thigh. Her core fluttered and clenched, wanting nothing more than to finally have him inside of her again.

In one swift move, she flipped them, careful so as to not accidentally send them both careening to the floor off of the narrow bed. 

“Yes,” Tommy breathed out at her straddling him, hands landing on her hips to help stabilize her. “Yes, fuck me.” His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed. “Please fuck me, Lucy.”

A shiver wracked through him as she gripped his shaft, stroking him in her fist before lining him up, her entire body shuddering as she slowly sunk down onto him. A moan fell from her lips, grasping at Tommy’s shoulders for stability, head tilted back as he filled her. Beneath her, Tommy growled, an arm going around her while the other clasped tight enough to her hip to leave bruises.

“Lucy,” he whispered, sitting up to press kisses along her collarbone. A swell of possessiveness washed over her, gripping his face in one hand and forcing him to look at her. The other hand rested over his chest, right above his heart.

“You’re mine,” she said, not room for argument in her voice. Tommy’s cock twitched inside of her at the words, eyelashes fluttering, pupils dilating until she could barely see any of the blue of his irises. One large hand covered hers, stroking the skin.

“I’m yours,” he agreed.

She leaned forward, lips pressing fully to his, and began to ride him. With his hips rolling up to meet hers with each bounce, they set a slow, deep pace, continuing to kiss languidly, hands caressing every inch of skin they could reach as they made love.

“Tommy,” she moaned, head falling backward and grasping at his hair tightly. “Tommy.” Her pace quickened, Tommy’s thumb pressing against her clit again, rubbing careful circles. With each stroke he was hitting her in exactly the perfect spot, stars dancing across her vision with each thrust.

“You gonna come for me again, love?” Tommy asked sweetly, devilish grin pulling at his cheeks when he felt her clench down on his cock at the sound of his rumbling voice. “Yeah, that’s it.”

A strangled sob left her lips, sinking her nails into Tommy’s back and earning a growl in response. Her next orgasm shuddered through her powerfully, leaving her legs shaking and head spinning. 

“Good girl,” Tommy praised, sitting up and wrapping her up in his arms, rolling them so that he was once again on top of her. His tempo grew faster with each thrust, fucking her through her second orgasm and almost directly into a third. Lucy moaned impossibly loudly, eyes rolling, the poor little bed rattling and squeaking with their combined movements. 

“I love you,” Tommy growled between thrusts. “I will always love you.” He hooked a leg over his hip, pumping into her furiously. Lucy pulled him down to kiss him hard, clinging to his back, legs wrapping more securely around his hips to keep him close. She could tell, by the way his breathing quickened and his cock twitched and throbbed, that he was close. He pushed her legs open and further back, like he was trying to get as deep inside of her as possible.

“I love you, too,” she said softly against his lips. Tommy moaned. “No matter what.”

He let out a bellowing roar, back arched as his cock twitched and throbbed powerfully inside her. Lucy cried out, the feeling of him pouring his cum inside of her triggering another orgasm, arms wrapping around Tommy’s shoulders while he thrusted as deep inside of her as he could get and stayed there, body trembling in her arms as he came hard.

Slumping against her, Tommy’s head burrowed into the crook of her neck, breath hot where it tickled her skin. His body was warm and heavy on top of hers, a welcome and comforting weight after so long without him. Lucy brought a hand up to stroke through his soft hair, peacefulness washing over them both. After a moment Tommy raised up on his arms, pressing a kiss to her lips before pulling out gingerly and shifting to lay on his side beside her. Or, he tried to. Considering the tiny space of the bed, he ended up situating them more so that she was settled on top of his chest with his arms around her. It reminded her of years ago, back when she would sneak into Tommy’s tiny flat in Small Health and they’d curl up together on his tiny bed, bodies pressed together. A hand petted through her thoroughly mussed red hair.

“Holy fuck.”

She laughed breathlessly, turning her face to press a kiss to the sunbeams tattooed around his pectoral. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, grinning down at her while he caught his breath. 

“We’ve still got it, eh?”

She stretched up to kiss him tenderly. “Damn right.” Cuddling back into his chest, she let her eyes drop closed contentedly at the familiar warmth of him around her. 

Tommy shifted, grabbing the lighter she’d dropped on the nightstand and a pack of cigarettes that she must have left there, lighting one for himself. For a while they laid in peaceful silence, Lucy beginning to doze on his chest while he traced nonsensical patterns into her skin. There was no doubt in her mind that they weren’t even close to done for the night. If true to habit, Tommy would be ready to go again within a couple more minutes. They had a lot of catching up to do.  

“Tommy?”

“Hm?”

She frowned, trying to figure out how to word the question. Or if she should even ask it at all. It wasn’t really any of her business. Not really. But she couldn’t help but wonder, with the amount in which he’d just came in her…

“How much sex did you have after I moved out?”

He froze. Then reached over slowly to set his cigarette down into the ashtray, and tilted her face up by the chin to look at him. His throat worked, and she saw shame and guilt enter his eyes. 

“Only twice.”

She frowned. She had expected it to be a lot more than that. “That’s it?”

He nodded, wincing. “Once a few days after you moved out. I was drunk and…depressed and Lizzie was there. I think I might’ve called her by your name at one point, but she didn’t say anything about it. And then the second time was in the cupboard at her birthday party.”

Turning onto her side on his chest, she trailed her fingers up and down through the hair that sprouted between his pecs. “Oh. I figured it would be more.”

“I haven’t exactly been in the mood much, recently.” His fingers slid through her hair languidly. “I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?”

“When I said that it wasn’t the same. It’s not. It’s better with you.”

She felt herself flush all the way from head to toe. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He pecked at her shoulder. “I dreamed about you.”

“You did?”

“Came in my sleep like a fucking teenager.”

She grinned at the mental image. He’d probably been so exasperated once he’d realized what had happened. 

She felt his hips shift a little against her.  

“And there was no one else? Other than Lizzie?”

“No. No one else.” He rubbed his nose along the length of her shoulder. “What about you, hm?”

“Nothing and no one.” She had never felt comfortable enough to be that vulnerable with someone else without Tommy there. With the exception of Grace. “Except my hand, once.” A wicked thought occurred to her. Tilting her head up, she let her lips graze across the base of his neck when she spoke. “In this bed. Thinking of you…”

“Fuck,” his hips bucked, pushing his swelling cock against her hip desperately. Lucy angled her head up to meet him when his mouth came crashing down onto hers.   

As soon they parted, he leaned in to press kisses to her neck. In a smooth movement he rolled them so that he was on top, growing erection grinding against her. Catching at his shoulders, Lucy pulled back just enough to look at him. 

“The others…” she started, biting her lip. “They’re just bodies, right?”

She saw understanding enter Tommy’s eyes at her repeating the term he had used earlier. Getting at what she was really asking. 

“Just bodies,” he agreed, leaning in to kiss her again, then chuckled and shook his head fondly. “As if I could make love to anyone else but you,” he tutted, hands running all over her body.

“Silver tongued bastard,” she crooned affectionately, hands tangling in his hair. Tommy chuckled, the vibrations against her chest making her shiver.

“You’re not going to be able to walk straight after I’m done with you…” his voice was beginning to get growly again, her core clenching around nothing as she whined and arched into the teasing touches that he was laying on her.

“Promises, promises,” she teased, grinning at the way his eyes lit up at the challenge.

And then her head was lolling back onto the pillow, moaning while her hands scrambled at his powerful shoulders, as with one expert forward thrust of his hips, he pushed inside of her once more. 

“Oh my God…” Tommy moaned wantonly, as if he'd just been reunited with the missing half of his soul. His eyes closed, head tipping back, face contorting with bliss. “Fucking hell, sweetheart.”

She gasped at the praise, grabbing onto him fiercely. Her legs squeezed around his hips while she clawed at his back as he set an absolutely brutal pace, thrusting into her so hard that the headboard struck the wall with each one.

Lucy moaned with abandon, not caring if the whole yard could hear her. Good God, how had she ever managed to live without this?

He felt fucking huge. Splitting her open with each thrust, filling her completely. She caught herself staring at the place where they were joined in awe, amazed that something so massive could actually fit in her. His cock glimmered with their combined juices every time he pulled out, a wet squelch sounding when he thrust back in balls deep, skin slapping together when their hips met.

She felt like she might combust from how good it all felt. And then he started talking. 

“This what you thought about, love? In this bed, all on your own? You imagine me splitting you open like this? Fucking you ‘til neither of us can move…Mm…” He thrusted all the way in and stayed there, grinding against her. His pubic bone slid against her clit wonderfully. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he purred when he picked the pace back up again. “Shit, you feel so good. Best fucking cunt I’ve ever been in…”

She sobbed at the praise, clinging to him for dear life. With a hand in his hair she dragged his mouth down to hers, kissing him greedily. His pace increased, pounding into her like a fucking animal. The bed creaked and groaned angrily under them.

“Right there,” she squeaked, head falling back against the pillows. The tip of his cock rubbed right up against that spot inside her again, stars bursting behind her eyes. “Right there, don’t stop, Tommy. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy…”

“Fuck,” he grunted, hands fisting in the sheets at either side of her head. “I’m not gonna last.”

She tightened her legs around him, urging him in deeper. His mouth found hers, tongues tangling, devouring each other’s moans. Their hands, the ones with the still healing cuts from their pact in the woods across their palms, entwined. Lucy could feel the band tightening within her. Just a little more…

There was a loud crack, and then a sudden snap from under them. Lucy yelped, finding herself suddenly and momentarily in free-fall. Above her, Tommy’s eyes widened, seizing her in his arms and curling his body protectively around her. 

It took her a moment to realize what happened. The support beams of the bed frame had completely snapped, leaving the mattress to fall unceremoniously onto the floor amongst the wooden wreckage of the broken frame. 

“Shit,” Tommy gasped out, cupping the side of her face. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You?” she choked out. He nodded to confirm that he was okay. They looked at each other, and then immediately descended into giggles. 

“Fucking hell,” Tommy chuckled, dropping his head into her neck. “What’s this thing made out of? Rotted wood?”

“It’s old,” she managed between wheezes. “It was already here when I arrived in 1918.”

“Mm,” he hummed, glancing around at the damage and shaking his head. When he returned his gaze to her, she felt the air around them shift again. His eyes darted over her face, lingering on her lips, and she was suddenly deeply aware of the fact that he was still very much buried inside her and throbbing. 

Hand sliding up to brace near her head, Tommy pushed himself up to kiss her again. This time slow and deep. Their mouths moved sensually together, tongues stroking as he started to slowly rock his hips. 

She clung to him like he was a lifeline, cradling his face and running her fingers through his hair. Tommy sighed deeply into her mouth, a hand running along her side to cup and squeeze one of her breasts, then creeping downwards to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. 

“Ohhh, c’mere,” he shuddered, arm hooking around her, crushing her to his chest. And all the while he kept on kissing her. Over and over again. So tenderly and passionately it made her heart feel as though it were about to explode out of her chest. 

How could she have ever been so stupid as to have doubted his love for her? When he was making love to her like this, it was impossible to think that he didn’t adore her down to his very soul.  

She came softly, with her back arching and a soft gasp of his name shuddering from her mouth. He was not far behind, whispering her name and sweet nothings into her ear as he pressed in and emptied another generous load inside her. 

“This bed is fucking terrible,” he complained, after pulling out and shifting them so that she was laying on his chest once more. Lucy hummed in agreement. 

“Yeah. Probably did everyone a favor by breaking it.”

He snorted, pressing his smile into her hair. Sitting up, she straddled him, Tommy raising an intrigued eyebrow at the position, his hands resting on her hips.  

“You’re my favorite person,” she told him seriously. His eyes softened. 

“You’re my favorite too, sweetheart.”

Rubbing her thumb along his cheek, she smiled at him tenderly, reaching with her other hand for his cock. It twitched in interest against her palm, and Tommy smirked cockily. 

“I’m warning you now,” she leaned forward to murmur in his ear. “I’m gonna put that famous Shelby stamina to the test, my love.”

He looked absolutely delighted at the prospect. His cock throbbed. It didn’t take long for her to have to ready and raring to go once more, guiding him to her entrance and sheathing down onto him with a moan. 

Later, when they’d both kept their promises–him to fuck her until neither of them could move, and her to put his renowned endurance to the test–she looked up at him shyly from her spot curled up on his chest. “Thank you for not letting me go,” she said.

He caressed her cheek with his fingers, touch warm and gentle. “I promised you,” he whispered, as if there had never been any question in his mind that he would keep it. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Charlie was happy for them. Really. They’d both been so miserable during the separation. Everything was back to the way it should be.

But holy fuck, did they have to be so fucking loud about it?

He shot a glower towards the wall at the sound of another loud moan reverberating from the other side.

Fuck’s sake. He’d have thought that they’d have tired themselves out by now. They'd been at it for hours.

His cheeks and ears burned. He had managed to sleep for a little while, but then there’d been the sound of what he could only describe as a small earthquake next door, sending him shooting straight up in bed.

Ever since then, he’d been in and out. Just as he managed to doze off, they’d make some particularly loud racket that sent him jerking awake again. If he didn’t know better he would have suspected that they were doing it on purpose. Not even putting his pillow over his ears was enough to drown them out. 

Silence fell on the other side of the wall, and he let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes. 

Then there was a loud…wet noise, and Tommy started promptly screaming Lucy’s name loud enough to bring the roof down.  

Nope. Nope. Uncomfortable as it may be to sleep in the stables, it was better than having to listen to this.

He snatched up his pillow and stomped irritably for the door, mumbling under his breath. 

Fucking Shelbys. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy moaned, body shuddering with his orgasm as he pumped his hips at a languish pace a few times before stilling. Pressed deep inside of Lucy, his balls fluttering and tightening with each generous spurt of seed that he was filling her with. Below him, Lucy moaned, hands grasping at his back and shoulders as her walls clenched tight around him with her own release, milking him for absolutely everything he had.

He had awoken to her cradled warm and safe in his arms, red hair spread out on his chest where her head was nestled, their bodies practically intertwined with how closely they were pressed together in the tiny bed, arms and legs tangled together. 

He had fucked her deep into the night. Probably had kept poor Charlie awake with all the noise they’d been making. And when they were finally well and truly exhausted, they’d collapsed into a pile of sweaty, satisfied limbs and fallen asleep. That morning he allowed himself the chance to just admire her for a while as she slept. The soft strands of her hair, the freckles covering her face. The way her limbs twitched in her sleep and she snuggled closer to him. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. His favorite person in the entire world.

It was with soft kisses to her neck that he woke her, hands running adoringly over her soft skin. It had been around when she pressed a sleepy kiss to the tattoo encircling his left pec that his cock had inevitably stirred awake, and they ended up right where they left off the night before.

Now basking in their afterglows, Lucy laughed sweetly, hand petting through his dark hair.

“Good morning to you, too.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to a scar on her chest and sitting up. “We have meetings with constituents at the Garrison this morning.”

“How long do we have?”

His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. “About an hour.”

“Oh, good,” she said, rolling them over so he was on his back with her hovering over him. Tommy laughed, grinning up at her almost boyishly. “We have enough time for this, then,” she murmured huskily, leaning down to kiss him heatedly. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

They just barely managed to be ready in time, pulling on clothes hastily and stuffing down some toast and eggs that Charlie prepared for them in the kitchen before heading outside. Tommy went to do a final quick check on the opium shipment, while Lucy greeted Charlie where he was sitting with his injured leg stretched out in front of him, watching Curly tend to the horses.

“Good morning,” he said to her.

“Morning.”

The man was eyeing her in quiet amusement, eyes darting between her and Tommy, who was walking towards them. “Sleep well?”

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Between her legs, she ached wonderfully, and true to Tommy’s word, she was having a significant amount of trouble walking in a straight line. Her legs felt a little like jelly. “Oh, yes. Very much so.”

“Mhm.” Charlie smirked. ”Good.”

“You?”

“Bah. It was fine. These two assholes next door keep waking me up with the absurdly loud sex they were having, though.”

She cringed. “Shit. Sorry.”

Charlie shrugged with a smile, patting her on the arm. “I’m just glad that everything’s back to the way it should be, kiddo.”

“Hello, Charlie,” Tommy finally made his way over to them. 

“Shouldn’t you two be getting going if you don’t want to be late? I hear that they line up down the street sometimes to get a chance to talk to you.”

“Yeah, we do. But here, before we go,” he reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of cash, counting it out and passing it to Charlie. “For the bed.”

Charlie frowned. “What the fuck happened to the bed?”

“Tommy happened.” Lucy quickly pointed the blame. Tommy’s brows rose. 

“From what I remember it was very much a group effort.”

She bit her lip to try to keep from laughing. Charlie groaned, making a face.

“Ugh, God, I don’t want to know anymore. Just get out of my yard, you insatiable animals.”

Taking his advice, Tommy took hold of her hand, beginning to pull her towards the exit. 

“After we’re done meeting with constituents, we can go home,” he mumbled cheekily into her ear. “We have a whole new bed there to christen.” His eyes danced mischievously. “Maybe we’ll break that one too.”

Stopping them before they could leave the safety of the yard, she cupped both his cheeks with one hand. “Charlie’s right. You are insatiable.”

“Look who’s talking.”

She grinned, and leaned in when he kissed her. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

She did ask the question, later. As she would, every once in a while. For forever. But not always because she was beginning to have doubts, or because her insecurities were getting the better of her. Sometimes, she just wanted to hear his answer.

“Do you love me?” 

And Tommy answered in the same way that he would answer for the rest of their days. 

“Yes; I love you. I love you more than anything.”

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