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duskamethyst · 4 years ago

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deception.

a/n: if you ask me why i did this, the answer is i don’t know.

word count: 4.6k

genre: smut, nsfw, angst, quirkless AU

warnings: daddy kink, degradation, edging, age gap, implied cheating, reader is a little delusional

pairing: sugardaddy!bakugou x f!reader

summary: where you fall in love with your own sugar daddy and you finally confess to him.

pretending to be in love with old men for a couple of hours can be exhausting and it might seem like a nonideal way to get money, but desperate times call for desperate measures. you’ve met plenty of these people, who have too much money they could spend. some are just lonely; in need of company from a young, pretty girl and some just want to have fun despite having their wives and kids at home. they come and go, and you couldn’t care less about what happens to them after your encounter, as long as you get your money’s worth.

but never have you ever thought that you’d be so attached to one. maybe entertaining sugar daddies isn’t that tiring when they’re really attractive (it’s natural to like good looking people, can anyone blame you?). he’s truly a sight for sore eyes and you often wonder how he possesses so much stamina in bed. bakugou makes you feel some kind of way, it’s wrong, but with more time you spend with him, you can’t help but to actually fall in love with the guy. he makes you feel antsy and you often find yourself waiting for his texts, either the dirty ones or the ones that expresses his anticipation to see you again soon.

it’s not like he doesn’t do the same thing as the others; buys you things you know you can’t afford, spends his money on fancy dinners and continues to spend the rest of the night with you at random five stars hotels after. the difference is, you actually somewhat enjoy being around him as his spoiled little princess and you find yourself to gladly do anything for him like the time you let him fuck you raw because he wanted to.

for a man his age, bakugou is well maintained. you love to lay your head down on his huge chest and rake your nails on his broad back, eliciting deep grunts of pleasure from the man in return. he looks appetizing; toned abs and a happy trail that leads to his trimmed pubes and down to his massive cock. if it isn’t for the fine lines on his face and the white streaks on his hair, you wouldn’t think he’d be reaching 50.

you don’t know if you should even feel jealous of his wife. if you were born years earlier, would he choose you instead? the thought of him being with someone else and vowed to be together for the rest of their lives makes you want to puke. bakugou must’ve realized that it was a mistake too. if he still loves her, why would he have his cock sink inside you? if he really loves her, why are you the one he tells that to instead?

“daddy loves you. daddy loves fucking your tight cunt. baby, you feel so fuckin’ good– so fuckin’ good for daddy. love you too– fuck.”

you can already picture the image of him on top of you as you replay those same words like a broken record player inside your head; lips part slightly in heavy pants, vermillion irises overfill with lechery as he fucks you senseless.

daddy loves you. he loves you and you're more than certain that you love him. not for his money, not for the stuff he indulges you with but only for himself.

you want him. you want him to make you all his. you want him to be able to see you freely and not sneaking behind someone else’s back. you want to sit pretty as you wait for him to come back home from work every day, all wet and ready to please him. he loves you, and that’s what he deserves after a stressful day.

as soon as you get inside the room and kick off your heels, a strong pair of hands grab you by the thighs and easily lift you up. you wrap your legs around his waist in an instant, dropping your bag to the floor unceremoniously before circling your arms around his neck as he draws you in a passionate, hungry kiss. a battle of dominance has always been nonexistent when it comes to bakugou, he naturally holds everything in the palm of his hand and both of you like it that way.

his lips never stray away from yours, not even when he walks towards the bed with you clinging onto his strong physique while his hands squeeze firmly on the flesh of your bum before he breaks away, but only to throw you on the soft mattress. you prop up on your side, looking up at him innocently and pleadingly with doe eyes that you know would never fail to stir up something primal inside him. his gaze drinks in every inch of you; the heave of your chest, the curve of your ass and overall your smaller frame that lies submissively in front of him.

“look at you. such a fucking doll.” he takes off his slim fit suit, throwing the coat carelessly on the ground before loosening up his tie until it unfolds completely. “you like the dress? it’s shorter than i imagined, can’t help but to notice how the other guys kept on checking you out.”

you nod your head, pressing your thighs together as you notice how his lustful eyes linger a little too long on your ass that’s barely hiding under the hem of your mini dress. “yes, because daddy bought it for me.”

“damn right he did.” he smirks, unfastening about three buttons of his dress shirt. “ass up.”

you hurriedly roll on your stomach, planting your cheek on the mattress and arching your back perfectly as you lift your ass in the air. you feel the bed dipping from your back before a calloused hand caresses your thigh and trails up to your cheeks slowly, appreciating the smooth and youthful skin before he gets to ruin it.

“good. lift your head up.”

it’s never your position to question. carefully, you do as told by lifting yourself up on your hands and knees. you can discern the shifting of his body from behind and by your side as you look ahead and face the curtains before your sight is abruptly seized by darkness.

the silky material biting your lids suggests that he has wrapped his tie around your head, purposely blindfolding you to amplify your other senses as your sight is consumed with pitch black. bakugou pushes your head down with his hand, keeping you on your knees and lets you stay in the position while he takes off his dress shirt.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for daddy.” he states more than questions, hiking up the hem of your dress to your waist to feed him with an unobstructed view of the damp patch adhering on your flimsy panties. bakugou presses his thumb on the splotch and his eyes flick over to your quivering body. “gonna let daddy use his tongue to fuck you?”

“please, daddy.” you whine, bucking your hips closer to ease the ache with his touch but is greeted with a sharp smack across your skin instead.

“so impatient,” he tuts, rubbing the red print gently. “you’re just a horny little girl, aren’t you? can’t live without daddy’s dick inside her cunt.”

“just you– only yours.”

“you know just what to say, don’t you?” his voice husky and rasp, complimenting the conceited smirk on his lips as he spoke. you learn that bakugou is actually a man that is easy to please, only if you know how to stroke his ego and as simple as that, his intimidating persona would be long gone.

cold air brushes against your wet folds once he strips off your panties. he lifts up both knees to get you out from the garment and crumple it into a ball with his hand before bringing it in front of your face.

“open.” you obey and open your mouth, allowing him to gag you with the cloth and quickly filling your senses with a mixture of lace and your own scent. “so good for me.”

bakugou moves back to his initial position, smearing his fingers against your puffy folds with your slick. he circles your clit teasingly and slowly, resulting in you to squirm while your hands find purchase on the sheets beneath you.

“stop squirming around or i’m not gonna eat you.” he warns as his ministrations come to a halt to observe your compliance before he continues. for a man that is impatient himself, it’s quite hard to take his sweet time teasing you. maybe with the fact that you’re so querulous, a surge of power and pride rushes through him and his willpower tells him not to lose his machismo too quickly.

a satisfying grin tugs on the corner of his lips while he watches you struggle to follow his order and his thumb presses tight circles on your swollen clit to draw out sweet, muffled whines. once he notices your legs begin to tense and toes to curl, he pulls away.

“you can’t cum yet.” he licks up the slick from his fingers clean before settling his head in front of your rear. an anticipative knot swells in your lower stomach as you feel hot plumes of breath prickling against your puffy folds before he spreads them open with his fingers. with how much your senses have spiked up, you can feel your pussy dripping with so much arousal and you know damn well that bakugou can see it too.

“you’re nothing but a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” he coos, sounding both demeaning and amused as he rubs your lips, sending more waves of sensation on the bundle of nerves. “my dirty little slut.”

bakugou doesn’t expect you to answer but as soon as his warm tongue takes the first lap of your slick, a loud squeal rips from your throat. his large hands rest on your hips as he tilts his head to reach your clit, toying and teasing by using the tip of his tongue while his own plump lips and stubble graze against your slit.

you’re quick to turn into a sobbing mess, unheedful of the saliva trickling from the corner of your mouth when you’re aware that it won’t take too long until you’d eventually break. just as the stimulation is becoming more overbearing, his hands clench on your supple flesh tighter in a silent command that tells you it’s not time to cum yet.

after he’s satisfied with abusing the bud, he drags down his tongue and pumps inside your quivering hole, causing you to jolt in a delighted surprise. from the loud, lewd squelching sounds of your own fluid mixing with his spit, you can only picture the way he looks right now; face buried between your ass cheeks, nose deep in your cunt while his tongue works miraculously around your walls.

even the image beyond the abyss itself makes you more delirious.

“c-can’t–” you break into a muffled cry as your hips bucks into his mouth without conscious control. another harsh slap is what you receive, but you can’t seem to care when a thick fog of desire is already clouding your brain; making the pain and pleasure to become one divine fusion.

bakugou’s blows don't stop with how much you’re grinding so earnestly on his face. your skin burns from the cruel attention, yet your cunt just keeps on seeping with slick that trickles down to his chin and drips down on the sheets beneath you.

“you’re such a fucking pain slut.” he growls, hot breath fanning your greedy cunt and making the pressure even tighter in your stomach. “not yet.” his tongue is anything but languid; swirling hastily as it explores your little hole as far as he can reach. it’s obscene. the way that the muscle glides so smoothly.. the warmth, the moisture–

next thing you know, your eyes are already rolled to the back of your eyelids as your body tenses while waves of gratification crash down throughout your entire being.

“cumming on daddy’s tongue without permission.” he tsks, giving one last spank before standing up at the edge of the bed as he burns the image of your quivering body into the back of his head, adorned by the red imprint of his hand on your pliant skin. “turn around.”

without a spare moment to gather yourself, you get up on wobbly legs and arms, carefully turn around like a fawn taking its first baby steps and rebuild your senses at the same time to estimate where he currently stands until he tells you to stop.

your eyes squint as they adjust to the subdued room, finally able to see faint light again after bakugou takes off the tie around your head. you look up to the older man, only to be pierced by a pair of carmine orbs and a disgruntled look on his face.

“you know what you did wrong.” a thin string of drool latches onto the panties when he pulls it out from your mouth to observe the drenched fabric between his thumb and pointer finger. “looks like you had a great time.” you can see how it’s embarrassingly soaked, but not as embarrassing as the amount of slick glistening around his lips and chin that he doesn’t even bother to wipe off.

“’m sorry, daddy.” you whisper hoarsely through dry throat while giving him your most remorseful look. it would’ve deceived him if he didn’t know any better, but receiving punishments is something he knows you’d enjoy.

the slight upturn at the corner of his lips etches into a lazy grin as he unfastens his belt and takes off his pants along with his briefs to release his erected cock– now standing proudly in front of your face.

“what do you have to do now?” he hums, tapping the flushed tip on your lips as if moisturizing the parched skin with his leaking precum.

“m-make daddy proud.” you shamelessly steal a taste, flattening your tongue out so he can rub it on your palate.

“can’t fuckin’ understand you– cock hungry slut.” he chuckles with mirth, one hand tucking your hair behind each ear as his gaze softens for a moment. “but that’s why i fuckin’ love you.”

your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, heart blooming like flowers on a fresh start of spring after a harsh, cold winter as the words he uttered loops inside your head. with a content hum, you close your eyes and wrap your lips around his cock, eliciting a hiss from the male once engulfed in the warmth of your mouth.

“shit, i haven’t even told you to suck me yet.” his own eyes follow suit, throwing his head back as his own hand finds home on top of your head. your eagerness makes it hard for him to stay mad. if he was younger he would’ve been a little irritated if someone tried to take control, but maybe aging really did something and made your whims seem more tolerable for him. but what he loves most is seeing you struggle to fit his fat cock; whether it’s by your mouth or your pussy.

“just like that,” his voice drops an octave, watching most of his length disappear inside your mouth while your tongue runs against his veins. “fuckin’ look at me when you’re suckin’.”

you submissively comply to his command, meeting those sharp eyes you adore beneath the tousled mess of his blond and white hair.

“you love daddy’s cock?” he doesn’t intend to give you a second to answer before he continues, “then you wouldn’t mind chokin’ on it, don’t ya?”

you moan in response just as he expected and he snorts through his nose. “of course you don’t.”

bakugou brings your head closer, shoving down his cock your throat before he starts to snap his hips. a chorus of curses pass his lips, taut muscles relaxing as he drowns in euphoria. drool soon starts to dribble from the corner of your lips and your jaw starts to ache, yet you’re still insistent on accommodating his cock– using your tongue when you could until he’s exploding with a mouthful of oaths.

“such a good girl.” he grunts, holding your head firmly with tension in his fingers as he stares down at you with knitted brows. “feels good havin’ dick in your mouth? hm?”

“hmm–” you moan in concur, the vibration almost drives him mad and it’s evident through the twitch you feel against your hollowed cheeks. with an exasperated groan, he pulls out his cock from your mouth and pumps it in his fist.

“take it off and lie down. now.” his words thrum through you in a burst of heat. you swiftly discard the dress and rest on your back, spreading your legs in front of him in anticipation before he proceeds to climb on the bed. you shudder when he spits on your cunt before smothering his cock against the slit and down to your entrance to give extra lubrication.

a deep, inarticulate sound rips from his throat, one that conveys pleasure as he sheathes his cock inside you. he can feel your walls sucking him in so welcomingly and squeezing him so tight that he thought he might cum then and there.

“that’s fuckin’ tight.” he girts out, pushing through the walls until he has bottomed out. with each hand on the sides of your head, his large and shredded build looms on top of you and keeps your smaller frame caged underneath.

“daddy– s-so big.” you extend your arms to cling around his neck, looking up at him with a lust addled gaze.

“i know you can handle me, sweetheart.” he smirks conceitedly and starts to roll his hips, dragging every ridge and vein against your walls through each thrust. your toes curl when he goes deeper and your nails dig into his back, leaving crimson trails as they rake.

“l-love you, daddy.” the words slip past your lips so naturally in flawless manifestation of your genuine feelings towards him.

you observe how his lips stretch into a simper, fiery and lustrous eyes staring back at you before he replies, “love you too, ba– fuck–”

bakugou feels you clench around him impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss you, forcing you to swallow down his moans as he ruts inside you harder and faster.

“baby– that’s right. daddy fuckin’ loves you.” his low and resonant voice fills your ears, pleasure pulling taut in your lower stomach as the pressure begins to build up rapidly for your second orgasm. “–and he loves this tight cunt.”

“ah– daddy! p-please make me cum–” you start to babble, too lost in pleasure and your legs find themselves wrapping around bakugou’s waist to keep him closer and deeper.

“don’t you fucking dare cum yet.” he snarls before lifting himself up to keep his hands on the headboard in front of him and instantly blocking your view of the room. not that you mind when you’ve already set your eyes on him the whole time.

“no matter how many times i’ve fucked you–” he pulls out almost completely before ramming in again, making you squeal. “you still feel so fucking good.”

your hands reach to cup his face gently, your lips parted and wet, eyes glazed with adoration and an overflowing want for him. “all for you.”

he chuckles quietly to himself. who knew that he would find himself burying his cock in some dumb college girl? with her heart filled eyes that tell him he’s some kind of a savior or the last man on earth. whether it’s all superficial or not, he thinks you’re pretty damn good at it.

“you sure make it hard for daddy not to love you.” he scoffs. you let out a needy whine when he pulls out and your hole convulses, instantly missing the way his cock stretches you out and makes you feel full.

but it’s not for long when your vision suddenly keels as he flips you over to lie down on your stomach. bakugou easily hoists up your hips and pushes down your back to force you into a perfect arch before he sinks his throbbing cock inside your sloppy cunt without warning.

“nghh– daddy–!” you cry as bakugou pounds into you with a menacing pace and hits you at the right places at the same time.

“yeah? you like it when daddy uses you like the little slut you are?” he grabs a fistful of your hair, jerking your head up. “like you’re nothing but my little cocksleeve?”

“yesyesyes– daddy–! s-so deep– can’t!” your strength begins to drain out and you don’t know how much longer you can hold yourself before he allows you to cum.

“you can– fuck– you’re clamping down on me.” he growls, one hand on your hips forming crescent shapes on your skin with his fingers.

your jaw has fallen slack, mouth gaping in breathless whimpers as you let bakugou abuse your little cunny while your own hands are balling into fists that your knuckles turn white. the air is filled with the sound of skin slapping against each other, mingling with his heavy pants.

“you’re really– hah– milking this fat cock.” his own rhythm turns sporadic, skin burning red with every second he prolongs his desire.

“please– daddy–” you let out a feeble moan and your legs begin to tremble as a result of the unbearable pressure tightening in your lower stomach. your pussy is already leaking with so much slick and it’s making a filthy mess on the bed.

“you’re ready to cum for daddy?” he fucks you harder with deep strokes, knocking the breath from your lungs each time he presses into you.

“pleasepleaseplease–” tears prickle from the corner of your eyes as the coil in your stomach threatens to snap.

“cum.”

the word left his lips in a pure command and you break down instantly with a loud cry. a huge wash of pleasure winds its way through every nerve and your pussy gushes and clenches around his cock.

“that’s it. good girl.” a deep growl rumbles in his chest as he observes every twitch of pleasure he has brought into you.

“th-thank you, daddy.” you mumble, still deeply doused in ecstasy.

bakugou finally releases his harsh grip and your head plops down on the soft pillow while he pulls out and pumps his cock in his own fist, coated with your own arousal before he splurts thick ropes of cum all over your cheeks and watches as it trickles down to your cunt.

after a brief moment of catching his breath, bakugou reaches for the nearest tissue box and helps to clean off the mess you both made. you let your exhausted body fall onto the mattress and he throws the used tissues away before leaning back on the headboard next to you, still panting and trying to get down from his high.

“you okay?” he breaks the silence, flicking his gaze towards you and rubs your head gently in hopes to soothe the pain he caused from pulling your hair so roughly.

you hum, seeking for solace from his touch as he pulls the blanket up to cover your bodies and reaches for his phone on the nightstand with his other hand. you silently observe him as he looks at his phone, probably reading and scrolling through emails or texts like he’d usually do after having you wrecked.

“love you, daddy.” you suddenly squeak, yet bakugou doesn’t tear his eyes from the screen and it leaves you unsure if he heard you or not.

“hm.” his response is indifferent and your stomach churns into an unpleasant feeling; one you don’t appreciate at all.

“daddy.” you swallow past the lump in your throat. “i said i love you.”

bakugou clicks his tongue and your heart shatters slightly at the sound, thinking that you probably just annoyed him, “yeah, i heard you.”

“bakugou.” you suddenly snap and the hand on top of your head stills. you don’t know where the courage to call him by his name comes from, but you want to convey your sobriety over the current situation and for what you’re about to say next. cold shivers run down your spine once his attention diverges towards you and he raises a questioning brow, ushering you to speak.

“i-i love you–” you gulp, taking a deep breath. “like, i’m in love with you.”

his stare is impassive and there’s an uncomfortable silence weighing the air between the two of you. your cheeks begin to warm up with humiliation and a part of you dreads with regret. you aren’t sure how long the deafening silence lasted before you see a twitch at the corner of his lips.

“you gotta be kidding me.” he snickers, shaking his head in disbelief.

you rise up on your side and your eyes waver with confusion as you look at him. “b-but you said you love me too. you do, r-right?”

he scoffs, mostly galled by the fact that he’s actually having this conversation with you– a dumb college girl, but he doesn’t expect much either. “why the hell would i be in love with you? did i knock your head?”

getting straight to the point is one of bakugou’s nature; his bluntness is like a sharp knife that stabs you in the heart.

“but you said–”

“why do you think i only said it when i had my cock buried inside your cunt?”

and it twists painfully.

“forget about it. go to sleep.” he nonchalantly replies and returns back to his phone, brushing off the wounded look that’s written all over your face.

you feel humiliated, angered and disregarded. given that you were always spoiled, you can’t stand having your feelings unreciprocated and rejection is one of the things you aren’t familiar with.

“why? because you have a wife? you don’t even love her–”

you flinch when you hear the loud thud of bakugou slamming his phone down on the bed, but it’s not as fearsome as the malicious glare he’s shooting at you. “don’t you fucking say that. i don’t wanna hear that, especially coming from a dumb whore like you.”

harsh reality gives you a massive slap in the face.

your heart is hammering against your chest and your vision begins to blur as tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill out. you feel like you want to scream at him but the words you want to say only get caught in your throat. bakugou notices how you’re about to burst but he only rolls his eyes, expressing his vexation.

“god,” he sighs exasperatedly and gets off from the bed to pick up his clothes from the floor. “the last thing i need is another fucking nuisance.”

“w-where are you going?” you croak as you watch him put on his clothes.

bakugou turns to your direction and snarls, “what does it look like? leaving.”

the pain in your chest becomes harder to bear, fat tears start to roll down your cheeks and when you try to reach for him, he coldly shoves your hand away. you saw how furious he could be through his phone calls but you were never on the receiving end; always the one who calmed him down and let him use you as a way to take out his frustrations on. now you’re nothing different than the rest of the people in his life, or maybe you were just too stupid to realize that you were never any different before too.

“just leave when it’s time to check out. you’d know at least that much.” he scoffs as he walks to the door and twists the doorknob before turning back to you for what it seems would be the last time.

“and don’t even think of finding me again.”

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bnha angst #mha angst #tw; cheating #tw; age gap

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get-shiggy-with-it · 4 years ago

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Ch. 3

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shigaraki x Dabi (just this part), Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader (very brief and vague reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut and feels, it's literally just smut, blow jobs, friends(?) with benefits, blow jobs, anal fingering, light degradation (both for shigs and reader), could maybe be interpreted as slight dubcon, dirty talk, slutty dabi, dabi is an asshole, so is tomura, reader has gender neutral pronouns, I'm keeping it fem cause Shigs hates women and calls them that

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the boys share in some good ole roommate bonding activities and Tomura has a blow job induced epiphany.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged and make sure to check my rules!)

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked despite the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut-in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs, yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it, but Tomura wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking evil grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping Tomura's cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin' it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time when they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deepthroat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at that perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little incel baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting his comforter in stains, but he knew Tomura.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring the failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn A plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual jeering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back, nuzzling his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the sensation and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him.

Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura knew he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did—in his post nut, clingy state—he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that. Cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle he made on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the subsequent slamming.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki x dabi #shigadabi #bee.writes

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

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Sunscreen (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: You take a trip with Frankie and his three idiotic best friends. They find an interesting purchase in the gift shop.

W/C: 2.9k

Warnings: language, implied sexual content, lots of innuendo and flirting

A/N: HI!!! this is the first fic of the Beyond The Sea series Rach and I are writing! I can’t wait for everyone to read these! I also love @mandoalorian for doing this with me and putting up with my shit!

and happy birthday to the man behind it all!! lots of love for Pedro on this day <3

The moment Frankie steps off the plane and into the hot weather, he feels instantly at peace. He’d never even heard of St. Kitts before Santiago brought it up a few months ago, but as he looks around, he’s already thinking this might have to be the place he brings you on your honeymoon someday, once he gets the courage to propose.

Your bright laughter rings out behind him, a few steps higher as you walk down the stairs for deplaning. “It’s gorgeous,” you grin, wrapping your arms around Frankie’s neck from behind and pressing a loud kiss to his cheek.

“Shut the fuck up and keep it moving,” a loud voice calls from further behind Frankie- it’s Santiago, grumpy from the somewhat-long flight. The energetic man hates sitting still for too long. “You two can make out at the hotel. There’s a whole plane behind us.”

Sighing, you walked along until both you and Frankie had your feet on solid ground. Frankie pulls you into his side with a strong arm, kissing the top of your head and grinning at the way he can already feel a little sweat forming on his brow. God, it’s fucking hot. He loves it. It’s not the grueling heat that plagued the men when they were at boot camp all those years ago; it’s not the sticky humidity that makes Frankie’s curls turn to tufts of frizz beneath his ball cap. It’s just right, he thinks, as a cool breeze rushes through and moves the still heat of the tarmac. “Welcome to paradise, baby,” Frankie grins as he slides his hand down your arm until your fingers lace together.

The resort is beautiful. The lobby is open-aired and gorgeous, with high ceilings and marbled floors. You bounce excitedly alongside Frankie as the two of you walk in, the other three men trailing behind. Benny makes comments to Will about how the two of you are about to be insufferable, and Frankie turns and shoots him a glare.

After you check in, you drag your luggage up to the highest floor. The other three men go to their respective hotel room next door, and Frankie opens the door to your room for you.

As soon as you walk inside, your breath is taken away by the large window, showing you the expanse of the Caribbean Sea, glimmering turquoise. A hand reaches up to cover your mouth, eyes watering as you look up at Frankie. “Oh my god,” you murmur and drop your bags, rushing over.

Frankie had planned this moment. He knew you’d never seen the ocean before just moments ago, but knew you’d love it. You’ve always loved water, loved swimming in pools and creeks and any body of water you could find. The two of you had kept your little window shut during the flight, preventing you from any sneak peeks. “You like it?” he asks as he walks after you, where your face and hands are pressed to the glass.

With eyes sparkling from tears, you turn to him with a grin. “It’s gorgeous.”

“You know there’s a balcony right there,” he teases, putting a hand on your waist and pointing to the side where there’s a sliding glass door. “I’m an idiot,” you laugh and rush over to open it. You step out into the warm air once again, and the smell of sea salt fills your lungs. You can hear the rushing of the ocean, the way it crashes against the shore.

Frankie steps out after you, removing the flannel over his t-shirt. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re an ocean kind of girl,” he tells you quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I think you’re right,” you agree and grin, kissing the side of his face.

The peaceful moment is interrupted, as always, by a loud whoop from Benny. The sliding door on the balcony over flies open and out rush the Miller brothers and Santiago. “It’s fuckin’ amazing!” Benny laughs as he grips the railing tight, leaning out over it.

“Calm down, Ben,” Will laughs but steps out as well, resting his forearms on the railing. “Look at that. The lovebirds beat us to it.”

“Ah, damn, so they can’t fuck out here now,” Santi teases, causing you to make a face of annoyance.

You lean back against Frankie and roll your eyes. “I was just telling Fish I’ve never seen the ocean,” you admit, placing your hands on his forearms and tracing the strong skin with the pads of your thumbs.

“Really?” All three men ask in sync, surprised.

You nod and shrug. “Parents never took me as a kid or anything, and I’ve never really left the Midwest before I met you fuckers,” you chuckle as you watch the white-capped waves rolling along out in the water.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Santiago grins over at you. It was his whole idea to come, and you’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it. “Could’ve mentioned it sooner though.”

“Didn’t think it mattered,” you shrug, smiling at the way you can feel Frankie’s chest bounce with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go to the beach,” you turn in Frankie’s arms and ask him with a grin, eyes wide with excitement.

“Sure thing, babe,” he nods and steals one more kiss before the two of you walk back into the hotel room.

There’s a voice from the other balcony before Frankie slides the door shut. “We’re going to the bar,” Santi yells. “Meet us there after!”

“What the fuck is this?” Will Miller’s gruff voice conveys across the gift shop, to where you’re admiring a shibori-dyed garment.

Looking up, you hear Benny’s loud laugh. “No way. Why would they even make this shit?” You wander over to where the four men have congregated, all staring at something in Will’s hands.

Santiago does the work for the three of you who have yet to see it and reads the label on the bottle aloud. “Seduction: pheromone sunscreen.” He laughs, absolutely in disbelief. “Awaken her passion with this pheromone-infused tanning lotion. Contains a masculine fragrance and the male pheromone, to attract a female. Damn. Does it work?” He asks the woman behind the counter, who shrugs in response.

Frankie picks up the bottle, and Will grabs another, reading the fine print. “Why in the hell did someone think this was necessary?”

You shrug and lean against him to read it too. “I don’t know. Probably for guys like Will who are desperate,” you tease, earning a playful shove that pushes you into Frankie and makes you lose your balance for a moment. “Fucker,” you mutter and steady yourself on your boyfriend’s arm.

“I’m buying it,” Santiago announces and puts it on the check-out counter. “Fish, I’m going to steal your girl with this,” he declares and pulls you into his side. “The power of the pheromone sunscreen.”

Laughing, you allow it to happen. “Maybe it’ll be irresistible, I don’t know.”

“Hey, don’t awaken my girl’s passion, man,” Frankie whines teasingly and pulls you back, wrapping both arms around you protectively. “If you’re using it, Santi, I’m using it too. It’s only fair.”

“It’s only fair if you don’t,” he shoots back. “She already loves you. It’s not like it’s gonna make her think you’re hotter. It’s only fair if I do it alone, and you’re the control.”

“Hi, I’m not a lab rat,” you speak up and push Santiago’s chest teasingly. “Try it on yourself and see if you can make other girls around here fall in love with you. Better yet, like I said, put it on Will. That’s a real test.”

The quietest of the men is your favorite to tease, mainly because of how he takes it. “You’ve never been in the ocean. I will personally make sure you never get to,” he threatens, lunging after you and making you squeal and dodge it.

“Is it working?” Santiago asks, giving you a full body twirl. You have to admit, the man is good-looking: you’ve always known it, and his glistening abs definitely emphasize it. Sadly for him, nothing about the pheromone sunscreen is making him unbearably attractive in your eyes. Your eyes are hidden behind mirrored sunglasses as you look at him, but you pull them down to roll your eyes at the ridiculous man.

“No,” you say with a sweet smile, taking Frankie’s hand from where it rests on his chest. He’s lying next to you in the two-seat cabana, wearing his swim trunks and ever-present ball cap. “I like this one still,” you grin as you run your eyes up and down his body.

Frankie grins back at you. “Maybe I’ll have to try that shit out,” he laughs, adjusting his hat. “If it’s so seductive, I wouldn’t mind having you all over me.”

Santiago makes a gagging noise and wanders down the beach, to where the Miller boys are playing sand volleyball a hundred yards or so away. “You know that you don’t need that for me to be all over you, baby,” you grin and lean over to give him a kiss. “Can we go swim?” You ask, sitting up and putting your sunglasses on your head.

Frankie sighs softly. This cabana was just getting comfortable. “I was thinking we could tan first,” he says, cracking his neck. “But if you want to, let’s go.”

You squeal and hop up, taking off the sunglasses before tugging on your bikini top and adjusting the bra. Frankie ogles your chest in the swimsuit and you smack his arm. “Francisco Morales, cut that out or I’m going to sit you back down and suck your dick right now.”

Frankie gulps. “Is that an offer, or-”

“Come on, Fishie,” you laugh. Grabbing his arm, you take off running through the sand, leaving him to follow. You both grin as the sand flies around you, the warm wind brushing against your skin. When you reach the edge of the water, you stand at the edge for a second and let the water rush over your feet and ankles. You look up at Frankie with big and confused eyes. “The water is so warm,” you laugh, slightly confused as you wade a little deeper.

“It’s the Caribbean Sea, babe,” Frankie chuckles, walking backwards and holding your hands, leading you deeper into the water.

“I guess,” you chuckle as the warm water surrounds more and more of your legs. “I suppose I just- Frankie!”

Note to self: never turn your back on the ocean, you mentally conclude as a wave hits Frankie from behind and knocks him over, into the salty and sandy water. You laugh a little as he falls over with a large splash, squealing as the water sprays you. He comes up a moment later, shaking his head to get the water out of your eyes. “Come on in, it’s really warm,” he tells you with a laugh, spitting the salty sea water out of his mouth. It’s only about thigh deep now, and you look down at him and wade a little deeper. He swims out and you follow, grinning.

“Hey, Frankie,” you ask, when the water reaches your navel.

“Yeah, babe?” he asks, confused when you drop your hands.

“Catch me!” You squeal as you jump onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms catch you, but he purposely falls backwards until the both of you are under the crystal-clear water.

When you surface, you wipe your face. “That wasn’t what I meant by catch me,” you laugh, swimming over to your boyfriend, who’s surfaced in a shoulder-deep area.

“Doesn’t matter. Now you went all the way under,” he grins at you. “Now you’ve really swam in the ocean- swam? Swum?”

“Have been in,” you offer, laughing and wading over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, then your legs, and his arms encircle your middle. “It doesn’t matter. I love you so fucking much, Frankie,” you tell him with a wide grin, looking over his shoulder at the waves further out.

“I love you too, baby,” he mumbles and kisses you. His lips taste like the salt water the two of you have been submerged in. His hands grip your hips as he wanders through the water, you hanging off of him like a koala.

You rest your face in his neck, admiring the scent of seawater and sunscreen and Frankie’s skin. Frankie starts singing a terrible version of the Piña Colada Song, making you laugh and press a loving kiss to the side of his face. “Is this your way of telling me you want to hit the bar?” You tease and squeeze him a little tighter.

“Maybe. You know I hate the flying part of getting here.” It’s ironic, you’ve always thought, but you suppose it makes sense that Frankie doesn’t really like airplanes. Helicopters are and always have been his forte, and it’s a feeling you understand: when he isn’t the one flying, he gets antsy. Things are out of his control, and he doesn’t like that. “I just need a strong drink and some lovin’ from you and I think I can finally relax.”

You grin and pull back, kissing him happily for a moment before pulling back and grinning. “Well, one part of that accomplished,” you grin. A realization hits you and you gasp. “Oh my god. You’re Fishie, and you’re in the ocean,” you laugh. “How did you ever get that name?” You ask, suddenly curious.

Frankie shakes his head, his hair starting to curl as it dries. The salty water makes it even wavier. “Doesn’t matter.”

You shrug and rest your head in his neck. You sigh and enjoy the feeling of Frankie’s arms and the warm water, the way a breeze rushes past and makes the back of your neck chilly from the drops of water resting there. Frankie mindlessly watches the other three men playing volleyball, wandering around the water with you. “Frankie?” You murmur into his skin.

“Yeah baby?”

“This has already been the best vacation ever, and it’s the first full day,” you tell him and remove yourself from his body, standing next to him in the water.

He grins and kisses you softly, wrapping an arm around your side to keep you close. “I fully agree.”

The two of you wander up to the shore a while later, plopping back down in your cabana. Will has gone to the bar and comes back with tropical drinks for each of you, which you hold in one hand and sip, your boyfriend’s hand in your other one.

A while later, Santi and Benny run back, covered in sweat from the heat and the game. “How about now, huh?” He asks you, flexing his arms, grinning.

You play into it, gasping and sitting up straight. “Oh, Santi,” you coo seductively, pouting. The face drops immediately. “Nope. Not working.” “Ah, should’ve figured. Anyone attracted to Fish would have weird preferences,” he shakes his head.

Frankie takes the alcohol-saturated lime from the rim of his drink and throws it at him, which makes a smack noise as it makes contact with Santiago’s chest. “Fuck off.”

“I will do no such thing,” Santi grins at him and plops down in the chair next to him. “My sole job here is to pester you two lovebirds and ruin your wonderful vacation.”

Benny, ever the prankster, sneaks up behind Santiago and pours a glass of ice water from the bar over his head. Santiago practically squeals at the sensation and Benny launches off into a run. Santiago follows. “You little shit! Just because you’re a fighter doesn’t mean I’ll kick your ass, Benjamin!”

The two of them occupied and Will up at the bathroom, you sigh as you roll over onto your stomach. “Frankie baby, will you sunscreen my back?” you ask him, propping yourself up on your arms.

“Sure thing,” he nods, sitting up and grabbing the bottle from your beach bag. He gets up and squirts some in his palms before working it into your lower legs, then your upper thighs. When he reaches your ass, he takes a few liberties in squeezing it. “That’s not how you put on sunscreen, flyboy,” you tease and giggle at the motions.

“Just got carried away,” he chuckles and works at your lower back, then your shoulders and arms. “There. All good.”

“Thanks, baby,” you coo and kiss him softly when he sits back down. “You want some too?” He nods, flopping onto his back. You repeat what he did, standing and working on his legs.

The further you get up his thighs, you can hear his breath hitch slightly, the wet swim trunks sticking tight to a hardening crotch. “Frankie,” you coo, working your hands up beneath the fabric.

“Sorry,” he winces, willing himself to force the growing erection down. Naturally, it doesn’t work.

You giggle softly, working some sunscreen into his stomach. “Don’t be. Pull up that shade, baby,” you tell him, referring to the shade that can completely cover the cabana when pulled up.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles as you pull his swim trunks down just enough. “Guess I didn’t need that stupid pheromone sunscreen,” he murmurs hurriedly as the shade covers the both of you.

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

#frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #benny miller #santiago pope garcia #william ironhead miller #william miller #will miller #will ironhead miller #santiago garcia

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vikingstoner69 · 3 years ago

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Alucard (smut) form my old account not edited

They say that everyone has a mate, and once you find your mate nothing and no one can take you away from them. I was not a normal human being I was a feral muntin of the cat kind and with my power, I can change into a large cat or a small one it really depended on what I needed.

" (Y/N) I have a need for you to take the wild geese and go and track down the vampire who is draining a town full of people" I looked over at my boss who just so happens to be the one who was the master or monsters and I fit right in with that. I was a monster and I had no problem with that.

"Of course, my Master," I said bowing down to her before walking out of the door It was about 30 years since the blitz in London and they were still waiting for this Alucard guy to show up. I had come to Sir Integra just after that day having saved her life back then and I was the one who helped run things after. I did just about anything she needed me to and with the power I had I could go days without sleep and would be just fine.

"Let's go Pip grab the guys, we got a job to do," I said looking over at my best guy friend as he lit up a cancer stick. In the acatke, on the manner, Pip was wounded so badly and almost died only to bring himself back from death by drinking the blood and becoming a vampire.

"Oi (Y/N) where are we headed?" he said as the guys got into the jeeps

"We're going to cheddar to kill a vampire" I said grinning my fangs on full show Pip smiled back.

(Later)

I walked into the manner after writing up a report and headed down to my room I knew my master was asleep and would give it to her in the morning. I heard the sound of gunshots and ran as fast as my legs would carry me to my master's room where I came face to face with sears and her big ass gun. She kicked open the door flashing everyone when I heard her gasp.

"Master!" She yelled out before lowering her gun I, on the other hand, kept my tense stance.

"What the hell is going on? Master are you alright?" I asked coming to stand close to her as I walked more into the room the scent of this man made me purr out before I could stop myself making My master looked at me with a raised brow.

"Yes, I'm sure you would like to know who this is (Y/N) this is Alucard the one who we have all been waiting to return," she said while sitting on the bed I felt a pull towards this man and was hoping like hell he was not my mate.

"Well if there is no danger than I shall take my leave, good night master," I said not looking over Alucard and walked out of the room. I had no clue what was going to happen now but I had a feeling I was being followed and just as I opened my door Alucard was sitting in my chair.

"So you took my place while I was gone?" he asked with a bored tone I had to give it to him he sure was sexy.

"Somewhat, I'm not really human so I can do things other can't trust me though it's been really boring," I said thinking all of the times I went on hunts only to come up with someone who was not worth even my time to fight.

"Tell me how old are you?" I looked over at him finding that he looked like someone I had met before only I could not put my finger on where i had seen him before.

"Eh, about 300 years old give or take," I said sitting down on my bed he was nice to talk to even if he is prying into my life. Even though I know this I find myself unable to hold back when he asks me things. "If you have nothing else to say I'm gonna get some sleep," I said as I pulled the blankets back so I could get into bed I felt the air around me heat back up and knew that Alucard had left.

(One Month Later)

"You was reckless! If I didn't step in you would have been killed" Alucard growled form everything I knew about him the only one he truly cared about was our master and the police girl.

"Oh please, I can't be killed, trust me I would have been dead a long time ago," I said stripping off my top to show him I was healed I felt his cool body get closer to mine and felt him run his fingers down my back.

"Tell me when do you plan to stop fighting this and give in?" he growled out his face close to my neck inhaling my scent.

"I have no clue what you mean," I said turning around to face him and felt my knees go weak at the look on his face.

"You are my mate, my queen, my fourth bride," he said with each kiss to my lips before deepening the kiss and stealing my breath away. I was lost to his touch and the taste of him I knew what he was saying was true but I was still going to make him fight for it. I was not the type to lay down and give in, I was a fighter.

"Oh really? You think that? Hmm, how about you prove it then" I said holding him close to my body his cool hard body felt wonderful against my hotter body with what I am I ran a little hotter than normal.

"I plan on it" Before I knew it I was laying on my back naked with a very sexy powerful vampire laying on top of me kissing sucking on my neck. I could feel his fangs scrape my neck and turned my head a little more giving him more room to work with. I had a plan to fight him but I didn't say I would not enjoy what he was doing.

While Alucard was working on my neck I tightened the hold on his hips and flipping us over so I was on top and I leaned down to crash his mouth to mine our fangs clashing and our tastes mingled together making me moan. I could feel how hard he was and wanted to taste him badly so I started to kiss down his neck leaving little bites as I went until I was face to face with his manhood. He was the biggest I had ever seen and couldn't wait till he was inside of me.

"Who said you could be on top? I heard him growl out as I licked the tip tasting him I locked my eyes with his before taking him fully into my mouth and down my throat making myself gag on him. I felt him grab onto my hair and held me in place before thrusting up and fucking my mouth while he was doing that I started to rub on his balls making him lose his pace and thrust up into me a little harder.

"Fuck, You suck my cock so well, take all of me I plan to cum down you pretty little throat" Alucard growled out before fucking my throat how he wanted I loved how he was using me even though I was on top he was very much in control and I loved a man who knew what he wanted and could take control of me in the bedroom. I knew he was close and sucked extra hard on him making him jump over the edge and cumming down my throat. I slowly sat up keeping his cock in my mouth as long as I could before I let him go with a loud pop and licked my lips. Before I knew it I was back on my back and he was raging hard again.

Alucard kissed me biting my lip till I opened my mouth to him and our tongues dueled for dominance. He won in the end only because he cheated by playing with my clit. I was dripping wet and was close to begging him to fuck me. I don't even remember the last time I had been fucked good and hard.

"Your dripping already and I have barely even touched you, my queen," he said while speeding up his pace I was a moaning mess by the time I felt his long as fuck tongue plunge into my hot wet cunt fucking me. I arched up and grabbed a fist full of his hair and was pulling him closer to me my claws starching his scalp making him groan.

"Fuck! Please don't stop, make me cum on your tongue" I begged while I started to thrust into wet needy cunt on his warm tongue I heard him growl and throw my head back at the feeling, it sent me on my clit. I was so close to coming that when he pinched my clit it sent me over the edge Alucard was making a happy sucking sound as if I was the best thing he has ever tasted in his life.

"Are you ready for me?" Alucard said as he moved his body back up was he was nestled in between my legs I was more than ready for him. I wanted him to fuck me tell I could not move anymore.

"Fuck me, Make me your, Make me forget about anyone else but you" I moaned out while thrusting my hips up into his feeling his hard manhood rubbing on my clit.

"As you wish" was the last thing I heard before my world was crashing down when he plunged into my cunt fucking me right off the bat. Alucard didn't wait to let me adjust he fucked me like he was a man possessed. My nails were digging down into his back drawing blood making him growl out his fangs got longer. I could feel I was losing control of my animal side and flipped us over where I was on top of him. Alucard grabbing my hips and started to thrust upon me as I took control of the speed and rode him how I wanted. I was so fucking close to cumming that I had nothing else On my mind but finding my peak.

"Fuck, Yes, Fuck me just like that! You feel so good inside me" I moaned out I was flipped back onto my back with him on top of me the whole time we were fighting for who was going to be on top. Our fucking was more like a fuck and fight only this time no one would die.

"Who do you belong to" I heard him growl in my neck but I was too far gone to speak and was only able to moan for him. The feeling of his hand around my neck choking me brought me back to myself and I could understand what he had asked me.

"You! I belong to you!" with my words I felt him sink his fangs into my neck drinking my blood I had this uncontrollable urge to bite him as well and did just that. Marking him as my mate for the rest of his undead life. The feeling of him sucking my blood pushed me over the edge and I came screaming his name my nails going down his back drawing blood.

When I finally came back to myself I realized that he was no longer on top of me and that a blanket was over us both. I rolled over and laid my head on his chest where his heart should be beating only to find it wasn't. Alucard's cool body helped to cool me down after our mating.

"Well, That was fun," I said yawning my eyes were getting heavy and knew sleep was not far off

"Agreed" was the last thing I heard before I was pulled into the darkness of the dreamworld.

#hellsing #alucard #reader smut #request

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arvinsescape · 4 years ago

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The Princess and the Guard.

A/N: I have finally started my series and I am so excited to share it with you all! I hope you enjoy and any feedback would be appreciated, I accept constructive criticism!

This series is not historically accurate and is not intended to be so please bare that in mind when you are reading, I am no real expert on how royalty works (even if I am from England).

This series will contain misogynistic language and views, violence, death and nsfw content. I will always put the relevant warnings into each chapter!

Warnings: None in this chapter (one mention of death but it isn’t bad or descriptive).

W/C: 2.8K (The rest of the chapters will be longer but as this is a starting chapter it is smaller).

Teaser, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter Three, Chapter four

Chapter One:

You sighed as you watched Annie pin up your hair through the mirror. You knew you should be more excited about tonight’s ball but you weren’t, you knew your mother and father would expect you to find a suitor by the end of the night. Although it was your brother’s engagement ball your parents were growing concerned about your status, you were yet to find anyone who you would want to be tied with for the rest of your life.

“If you don’t mind my saying Princess, you seem upset.” Annie said as she gave you a small smile through the mirror.

“Annie.” You sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you, it is Y/N behind closed doors.” You smiled wide at her and she blushed slightly.

“My apologies it just feels improper.” She said, she was correct, if your parents were to find out that she called you anything other than ‘Princess’ or ‘your highness’ she’d lose her job in an instant, if not worse. You on the other hand, couldn’t care less, you hated the way people treated you differently because of the status you were born into.

“I do not mind.” You said and she smiled again as she put the final pin into your hair, moving to find the butterfly hairgrip your grandmother had given you so that she could finish off your look. “I just do not have the energy to entertain tonight.” You sighed and she smiled sadly at you through the mirror again.

“You never know, you might meet someone you like tonight.” She said hopefully and you scoffed.

“I doubt that very much. They are all too old or too arrogant, I do not know why mother insists I marry so quickly, I will never be queen.” You said.

“I suppose, if you don’t mind my saying, for a Princess you are quite old to not be engaged or married.” She said shyly.

“I am 23.” You laughed and she smiled. Annie was like a best friend to you, you’d grown up with her, her mother had worked for your own before her untimely death and Annie had started working as your personal maid not long after.

You heard a knock as Annie finished pinning your hair up and you sighed, it was time. Annie rushed to answer the door as you stood and removed the creases from your dress, the corset you had on tighter than usual, you couldn’t wait to remove it. She curtsied straight away, your brother coming into view.

“Little sister, if I may?” He said as he held his arm out and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Harrison, I am 23, I am hardly little anymore.” You said and he laughed as he stood closer to you.

“I am still taller and still older, therefore you will always be my little sister.”

“You are two years older than me.” You stated and he laughed as he held his arm out for you again, this time you took it. He started to walk with you, heading towards the ballroom. Your eyes fell on the figure stood just outside your door, Thomas. Harrison’s personal guard, he was the same age as Harrison, 25 and you found him extremely attractive, you wished at times that things would be different that you’d be able to marry a man like him.

“Thomas.” You greeted with a smile which he instantly returned.

“Princess.” He bowed and your heart fluttered, he was just about the only person you knew who called you princess and it had a positive effect on you. You bit your lip to contain your smile as you walked towards the ballroom, Thomas falling into step behind you both, you walked for a while before Harrison spoke.

“Mother wants you to find a husband tonight.” Harrison said and you sighed.

“I know. I really wish she would leave it alone.” You sighed.

“Y/N, you cannot keep rejecting people, you know it is only a matter of time before mother and father decide on a suitor for you. Pick someone you can somewhat stand.” He said as you came to the doors of the ballroom, Thomas moving in front of you as he opened the doors, your names being announced as you walked into the room. It all seemed so unnecessary, as if people didn’t know who you were before you yourself did.

“You look beautiful by the way.” Harrison smiled at you and you returned it, you were thankful for your brother, you were both close, he was by far your most trusted friend and relative.

You walked gracefully towards your mother and father, curtsying before you fell into place beside your mother.

“Now Y/N, I want you to behave tonight, there is a new suitor I would like you to meet, a Duke. He is the same age as you, so not too old.” She almost mocked and you had to bite back a scoff.

“Let us hope he is not as arrogant as the rest.” You said as the music began to play, drowning out your mother’s next words. You watched as people started to dance, chatter exploding throughout the room, Harrison was placed next to his bride to be, Ellie. You envied Harrison for finding someone so lovely in this society of people you were a part of.

Ellie was beautiful, a true lady and she was perfect for Harrison, perfect to be the future Queen. She was like a sister to you already, you had a close bond and you were glad that she would be a part of your life for the rest of it. Your eyes found Thomas as he stood close to Harrison, eyes scanning the ballroom before they landed on you, he smiled and you returned it.

“Your royal highness.” A voice pulled your attention from the man. You looked to see a man you’d not seen before, probably the same height as Thomas, much skinnier but good looking none the less. His green eyes raked your figure and you almost gagged, blonde hair slicked back in the same way all men of his status had. He held out his hand and you placed yours in his as he kissed the back of your hand. It was almost sloppy, you wanted to pull your hand from his immediately but forced yourself to be polite.

“I am Oliver, Duke of Oxford.” He said and you smiled down at him.

“Pleasure to meet you.” You said as politely as you could.

“I hope to see you around my Princess.” He tried to charm and you wished you could have rolled your eyes but fought back the urge.

“See, he is lovely, very polite.” Your mother gushed and you hummed in response as he disappeared. You both watched Harrison make his way onto the ballroom floor with Ellie. A figure stood in front of you and your heart dropped to your stomach. Henry. You’d met him a few times and he was by far one of the worse suitors you’d met, arrogant, rude, you could go on.

“A dance your highness?” He asked as he held his hand out.

“Go on my dear.” Your mother urged and you huffed quietly before placing your hand in his as you made your way to the ballroom floor. He placed his hand too far down onto your waist for it to be appropriate. You moved his hand further up, to the appropriate level when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You looked over Henry’s shoulder and saw Thomas, jaw clenched as he watched the two of you interact.

You started the dance, you found it boring, you’d danced this dance many times over the years. Henry’s hand continued to wander and you continued to move it, eyes finding Thomas every so often, you watched as Harrison approached him before saying something to him. Thomas’ eyes never left you as you watched him nod at Harrison’s words, you got so lost in his eyes that you forgot about Henry and his wandering hand until it fell almost on your backside. You gasped slightly before stepping away from him.

“I suggest you keep your hands to yourself, need I remind you who I am?” You snapped angrily and Henry smirked.

“Who would believe you? Honestly Princess.” He spat and you huffed before moving towards Ellie, who was now sat at one of the elegantly set up tables.

“Your highness.” She said and you waved her off slightly.

“Y/N, please, we are to be sisters after all.” You said and she grinned.

“Are you okay?” She asked and you huffed as you sat down, not very “princessly” like you were aware, if your mother was too see she wouldn’t have been happy.

“Men.” You uttered and Ellie laughed slightly.

“I feel like I met a true gentleman the night I met your brother.” She swooned and you smiled, they really did love each other, it was warming too see.

“Unfortunately he is a rarity it would seem.” You sighed.

“They cannot all be bad.” She said and you laughed.

“They are not good. I just wish one man would be interested in me and not the title that would come with marrying me.” You spoke your annoyance, it had become an insecurity over the years. “You know I have rejected Henry more times than I can count and he still insists on asking for my hand.”

“I am sorry.” Ellie said clearly not knowing how to respond, she’d been luckier than you.

“No,” you sighed, “I am sorry, this is your engagement party and I am being negative, I apologise.” You said and she smiled.

“We need to stick together, this is a man’s world and if us women need anything, it is each other.” She spoke and you smiled.

You quickly grew bored of the party, too many men had heard, wrongly you might add, that you were looking for a partner tonight. You’d had numerous dances at this point, you’d spent the last half an hour avoiding Henry and his advances. You’d spoken to Oliver a few times and although he seemed nice enough there was something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, he seemed a little off.

“I am so happy for your engagement, but I am tired and need to retire to bed.” You said as you hugged Ellie.

“Goodnight little sister.” Harrison spoke as he hugged you. You playfully curtsied to him and he laughed.

You made your way out of the ballroom and headed in the direction of your bedroom, it was quite a walk but the halls were quiet, all the guards who were usually stationed were in the ballroom, seeing to your father’s and the King’s safety. You turned the corner and were instantly grabbed from behind before being shoved against the wall, you gasped out in shock.

“Leaving so soon Princess.” Henry.

“How dare you.” You almost screamed at him. “When I tell my father, the King, about this, he will have your head.” You spat and Henry laughed.

“How could you prove it?” He sneered as his hands trailed down your waist, you slapped his hands and he laughed. “You are going to have to marry eventually princess, why not pick a man who could give you a good time?” He smirked.

“Get your hands off of me.” You said as you slapped at his chest, trying to push him away from you, your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, fear setting in.

“You heard her royal highness.” You heard and you were instantly filled with relief. Thomas.

“This is none of your business. I hear you are Harrisons guard, you are not doing a very good job if you are abandoning him.” Henry spat as he turned to look at him, puffing his chest out in an attempt to look intimidating.

“The Prince is in good hands, I can assure you. The Princess however, does not seem to be enjoying her current company.” Thomas spoke and it was cool and calm, as if there was no fear there at all. It reassured you, made you feel safe.

“Stay out of this.” Henry tried again and Thomas stepped towards Henry and you almost laughed as Henry cowered back in response.

“Unless you would like me to personally tell the Prince what I have witnessed here tonight I suggest you leave and not bother the Princess again.” He spoke and you were impressed, most men would be intimidated by Henry’s status, it was like he didn’t care.

“You have no evidence.”

“I do not need evidence. I have worked for the Prince long enough for him to know I am not a liar and I am sure he will believe his sister over the man who has not so subtly been groping her all evening.”

Henry huffed as he took in his words, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you realised you were safe. Henry made his way down the corridor almost stomping like a child as he headed back towards the ballroom leaving you and Thomas alone.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He asked as he turned his attention towards you.

“I am okay, thank you Thomas.”

“Tom.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s Tom.” He said as he cleared his throat. “I was never the biggest lover of my birth name.”

“My apologies, Tom.” It almost felt intimate to call him by a nickname, in a very strange and new way to you, you liked it.

“I will walk you back to your room.” Tom said and you nodded as you fell into step beside each other.

“You know, I have known you since we were both children and I don’t think I have ever been alone with you.” You spoke.

“That would be improper Princess.”

“Y/N.” You corrected and Tom smiled.

“That would also be improper.”

“I am allowed to call you Tom.”

“I am not royalty, I do not have a title.” He said and you laughed.

“I will not tell if you do not.” You smiled and he returned it, you liked his smile, it was warming, comforting.

“I cannot afford to lose this position.” Tom spoke again.

“Should you not be with Harrison?”

“The Prince is well protected at the moment, I will return once I make sure you are back to your room and safe.” It made your heart flutter. “Besides, the Prince personally asked me to make sure you would be alright tonight, he did not like the way Henry was ogling you.”

“So you saved me because you were asked to.”

“Just because I was asked to doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.” He spoke and you smiled, he’d dropped the proper speech and it made you smile. It made you feel something in your chest that he wanted to make sure you were safe.

Tom had worked for the palace for a long time, he was similar to Annie, Harrison had grown up with him and asked him to be his guard once he was old enough, you’d always somewhat admired the brown eyed, brown haired man from afar. You came to a stop as you reached your bedroom, you turned to face Tom and he you.

“Well, I am here and I am safe.” You said.

“You are here and you are safe.” He repeated.

“Thank you, Tom.” You said as you looked him deep in those beautiful brown eyes.

“No need to thank me.” He said and you smiled as you reached up and cupped his cheek. He looked confused for a second before he composed himself, you were looking at each other and it was intimate in a way you’d never felt before. You smiled as you reached up, standing on your tip toes as his hand lightly grasped the elbow that was holding his cheek. You placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, a way of saying thank you.

You pulled back blushing slightly to see he was already smiling, you moved away from him and smiled.

“Good night Tom.” You said and he gripped your hand gently in his own, it was soft, warm, and comforting. He placed a soft kiss to the back of it before letting go and bowing. You wished he hadn’t let go and where thankful that none of the guards were there to witness what had just happened.

“Good night princess.”

Taglist: @allthisfortommy

If you want to be added to this series taglist please let me know 💞

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #royal!au #tom holland x royal reader

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uncrownedmox · 3 years ago

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Veil of Secrecy

Noun: The action of suppressing something such as an activity

Throughout the day Liana had watched Dean for signs of any other explosive memories or any other signs of discomfort but he seemed totally relaxed with Roman and Seth. Her would-be brother had cornered her once and asked about the bruise around her neck. His soft brown eyes spoke volumes of his disbelief of her rushed story of accidentally doing it herself. Larkin had come in after midway through their conversation, she said nothing. She helped Liana make lunch wordlessly but with one look she told Liana that she wasn’t buying her story either.

Dismissing Larkin and Seth’s disbelief over her cover story Liana watched carefully as Dean interacted with Roman and Seth throughout the day, noticing how as they spoke of past memories he commented more and more on them. Twice she fetched the Rosemary and Sage potion for him to drink, Seth always snarked out a laugh but Roman watched him like a hawk to make sure he drank it all.

It was late afternoon, Dean, Roman, and Seth were in the second bedroom putting together a crib for Sammy. Their male laughter could be heard echoing down the hallway into the front room and making all three women smile and making young Sammy giggle. Larkin as she pushes a toy back to Sammy scoots closer to Liana and whispers softly, “So what really happened to your neck?” Blushing as Katelyn laughed loudly Liana brought her hand up to massage her throat and look back at the hallway. Sammy suddenly lost interest in the truck he and Larkin had been playing with and moved onto some wooden blocks and started to clack them together.

Liana sighed and looked back at Larkin, “what makes you think anything happened?” Larkin looked at Sammy first then down the hallway then finally at her sharply. After a moment she spoke lightly, “Xavier was into some kinky crap from time to time. I got used to having bruises like that as well, Liana.” There was slight pain and discomfort in Larkin’s eyes but when Liana reached out to her she waved her off, “it’s in the past Lee. I have something way better now.” Nodding in hopes her friend slash sister knew if she needed to talk, then Larkin is looking at her dead on and giving her a wink.

Smiling brightly Liana knew it was just as Larkin said it was, the past. Swallowing, she shyly retold the story she had already told Katelyn. Afterward, she timidly asked Larkin her opinion, “how would you suggest I get him to do it again?” Larkin blinks in shock at her and it makes her blush but Katelyn is chiming in softly, “she is young Lark. She needs to find herself in her sexuality through experimentation, Jon as an experienced man should know this.” She feels her blush deepen, heat radiates with hot heat and she squeaks out. “It’s not like that, Katie. Due to how Mox came into his magic and other circumstances,” here her words stumble for a moment and both women look at her in question.

Taking a deep breath she tries to explain the best she can, “look at it this way. It’s not a split personality pre say but mood swings maybe? As Mox, he is serious about intimate things. Not saying there is no play or anything but you want ‘playful’ that’s ‘Dean.’' Looking at her sisters she sees Larkin is confused and Katelyn is somewhat lost. Sighing she murmured, “think of it like this. Ambrose,” looking at Katelyn because she knew the other woman would understand. “As my hard demanding lover and Mox and my gentler one. Dean is kinda a combination of both.” It takes Katelyn a moment but she only asks, “a playful hard fuck?” Larkin sputters and Liana winces at the language in front of Sammy. In the end, she only sighs and blushes, “si hermama.”

That makes Larkin cough, after she gets herself under control she mutters lightly, “I haven’t seen Jon as this Profeta or Ambrose thingy but I have heard him, and boy oh boy let me say this. That man screamed hardcore sex appeal. I mean by the voice alone I can easily imagine him as a Dom in one of those BDSM playrooms or whatever they are.” Liana blinks at her and Katelyn brings her finger up to tap her chin and questions, “si. Only he would use exotic toys.” Liana reaches for Sammy as he attempts to crawl too far away, bringing him back within their group she asks. “Can’t we just stick to something simple for now? Like handcuffs. I could possibly do those.” Larkin gives her a wide eye look then laughs, “Live dangerous sister! Besides, once you get him into some latex?”

Liana felt her eyes go super wide at the thought of Dean in latex, shaking her head. “I can’t see it! Tight jeans maybe.” Katelyn is laughing hard at her. Larkin is thinking about what she said then adds, “who cares what he wears. Just as long as he uses that voice again I would be putty in his hands.” Liana snickers at her comments but Katelyn turns the tables on their sister-friend. “Seth should invest in a ball gag for you. Since you like toys so much.” Larkin gives her an evil eye then shakes her head, “he would never. He loves how vocal I am!”

Before any of them could respond a male voice chime in, “that I do but when we are visiting one might be a good investment.” They all turn to see Seth leaning against the door jam, once they all see him he pops off the jam and heads into the kitchen. Larkin flops onto her back to watch him go and scrunches up her nose at him, he calls over his shoulder. “Don’t give me any sass woman.”

She pops back up and looks at them and they burst out laughing in pure contentment.

——————————————————————————————

The first time putting a crib together he was thankful to have Roman around to help, who was close to an expert on the matter by now. Looking at his older brother he murmured, “if Larkin is right and you Katie are destined with five-plus the three you already have.” Roman doesn’t even pause to look at him, “I am Samoan Uce. We normally come in large batches.” Seth snorts at that and snarky out, “between you guys it’s going to be a dozen or more.” Dean looks at the half-built crib knowing he would need it again in just a few months.

When they had first stepped into the second bedroom and laid out all the pieces and hardware for the crib their talk had been light and somber. Seth was however like an open book to both him and Roman, so when he had come back from the kitchen shaking his head and handing them a fresh cold beer. Dean asked softly but quietly, “she didn’t say anything to you about it?” He saw Seth was thinking about something, at the moment his younger brother was raising his beer to his lips. He stopped mid-motion and looked at him. “Who? About what?” Grinding his teeth together Dean sighed and took a drink of his own beer. Shooting Seth a haunted look after swallowing hard. “Liana, Seth. I thought she might have mentioned to you about the bruise, it is why you two have been staring a hole in me all day.”

Roman pauses in screwing a screw and innocently questions, “it wasn’t done in some rough foreplay?” Dean could actually hear the hope in his voice and shame flooded him and a blush warmed his face in an instant. Choking out as he lowered his eyes, “hate to break it to you Ro but I am not into that type of foreplay.” Seth actually laughs at his words and when he looks up Seth is looking out the bedroom door. “Here we are talking about choking foreplay and the girls are talking about using ball gags.” Dean blinks as he reaches for a screw to continue to help Roman in putting together the crib. Roman on the other hand laughs out, “might come in handy for your wife baby Uce.” Dean snorts as he finishes screwing in one screw.

Reaching for his beer and another screw as Seth snaps back playfully, “my wife is vocal, Reigns. Not my fault you don’t have Katie screaming the roof off the place.” Seth says it with such a straight face Dean can’t help but to laugh. Roman at first gives both his brothers an evil eye then just shakes his head. Then after a minute, he muses silently just how far this conversation has gotten off topic but is damned if he ain’t enjoying himself. And yet the question is still heavily lingering in the air, “so if she didn’t tell you Seth then how in the hell am I suppose to find out what happened?” Roman is reaching out for his beer and blinks slowly at him, Seth takes another swallow of his beer for good measure and puts the question to him. “Tried asking her yourself?” Rolling his eyes Dean snaps back waspy, “why detective Rollins I do believe you missed your calling in life.” Roman’s big frame is shaking from him trying to hold back his laughter and Dean is somewhat proud of that.

Seth on the other hand, “smart ass. See if I fucking help you again.” Roman finally loses it and laughs out loud, “you call that helping Uce?” Roman then looks at him, the laughter is dying out and there is a somber look in his blueish grey eyes. “Look Uce if it wasn’t some rough foreplay and she hasn't come clean on how it happened, you know.” Dean swallowed hard and nodded his own laughter, dying off. “I know Ro.” Swallowing hard, casting his eyes downward he choked out as he fought against the tears. “It had to be me, I mean it couldn’t be anyone else. They would’ve been,” he doesn’t finish so after a minute Seth murmurs. “They would have been dead before they had time to leave a mark. Plus you are the only one she wouldn’t fight.”

It broke him in a way he couldn’t voice but he managed to grind out, “it’s killing something inside of me knowing I did that to her and she won’t tell me about it.” When the crib was done, with Roman help of course Seth however wasn't done. “Listen, Dean, you’re Montana’s world. Right now you're handicapped because you don’t have all your memories.” Roman is nodding but he cuts Seth off, “I want to remember, Seth. I want to be the man she loves again.” Seth comes up beside him and slaps him in the back of the head, “stupid. You are THAT man.” Narrowing his eyes he opens his mouth but Roman hums out, “point and match to Rollins.” Fighting back actual tears he snarls, “this doesn’t help assholes.” Seth growls at him in open frustration now, “look dickward you asked her point-blank and she shut you down, right? Then fuck it and play hardball and GET your answers. We have seen you use magic to get what you want out of her before.” Seth takes a deep breath and adds, “she finds it charming, I think?” Roman snorts in amusement and adds, “more like a turn on probably?”

Dean glances between his brothers and sputters, “you two want me to force my way in?” Seth laughs out loud as he takes another drink of his beer. “I don’t think you can force her, Dean.” Fighting the rising heat on his face, choking out. “I can’t do what you’re suggesting, it’s not in me.” Roman tosses his screwdriver down in disgust and growls out, “yes it is! Dig deep and fucking find Ambrose. If you taught me one thing it's that she wouldn’t dare disrespect or lie to him.” He knows there must be confusion showing on his face because Seth is laughing like an idiot again but once he stops. “Look Deano, the fact is Montana loves you. All of you, but I agree with Roman. She is more relaxed with you whether you call yourself Dean or Mox. Just remember she was raised to respect the power and title of a Profeta.” Roman is humming in agreement and before he can question it further. “She will answer to Ambrose.” Looking at his brothers he sighed, “I hope to hell you guys are right!”

There is a smirk on both of their faces and Seth just hands him a fresh beer and asks, “So Deano let's talk about this lack of foreplay of yours.” Roman laughs grab a fresh beer and wait on his answer, “magic lil brother with Liana everything is always magical.” Roman bellows out a laugh but Seth is grinning like a madman, “does that go for the sex as well?” Dean lets a matching grin overtake his lips, “no Sethie the sex is out of this world." Seth is helping him pick up the extra bolts and asking, “like your seeing stars or more like mind-numbing, and your soul is exploded from your dick?” Dean is tossing the extra hardware in a ziplock bag but pauses to slyly ask, “Is that even possible?” Roman is rumbling, “hasn’t happened to me yet.” Smirking at their little brother, “sounds like you have a personal problem, lil brother.”

Seth laughs, “naw, not a problem at all I actually like the feeling, I recommend it! But a second-round is usually out of the question if done correctly.” Dean is shaking his head but deep down the darkness that was Ambrose was intrigued.

——————————————————————————————

It was around nine, and after the crib was done he had watched for a moment as Liana and the other girls had moved into the bedroom to make it. After dinner he watched as Liana tended to Sammy and put him down for the night, feeling accomplished and satisfied. He knew it was just a matter of months before she would be repeating this process with their own son and it made his heart swell with pride and love, so much love.

Once Sammy was down and softly snoring he and Liana retreated back into their living room. He was still nursing a beer, she still had an ice tea in her hand but once she sat down she stretched her back and it gave off a loud pop. Sitting his beer down on the coffee table he looped his arm around her neck, his fingers playing with her red-gold hair. She sat her ice tea down next to his beer and leaned more into him, smirking softly as he gently reached out to bring her on top of his lap. Her eyes light up and her hands came to rest on his shoulders, fingers caressing the sides of his neck. Closing his eyes at the simple touch he let a small moan work its way free from his lips as a reward when Liana started to shift and grind herself against his hardening dick. Muttering darkly, “you’re a damn tease sweetheart.” Smiling as she moaned when he placed his own kiss on her neck.

Pulling himself back before this got out of hand and he forgot what he was after. “Sweetheart, please. I would do anything,” with heavy-lidded eyes Liana pulls back and smiled sheepishly at him. She licks her lips and whispers, “please baby. I want you in me.” Moaning loudly because her words make his dick incredibly hard and the temptation was almost too great but he stayed focused. “No sweetheart, first you get one more chance to tell me how I hurt you?” Her beautiful honey eyes snapped completely open and stared right into baby blues in total disbelief. “Dean,” shaking his head he hardened his voice a little more, “you misunderstand me little girl I am not asking this time.” Her breath catches and Dean watches in fascination as her pupils dilate and her face flushes. It’s then he realizes Roman is right, the control was acting as a turn-on for her.

There is also a hint of stubbornness in her eyes that he sees, a willingness to defy and it moves something deep down inside of him. And yet, “last chance sweetheart.” He can almost hear her heart beating against her ribcage, sees her shake her head and her wide-eyed expression. He sighs softly and lets out what little magic he has currently stored up to bubble up to the surface, he expects a large amount of pain but there wasn’t hardly any and yet her reaction. “Stop it, Dean. Please don’t hurt,” he ignored her words instead he concentrated on making sure she didn’t feel any of the excess pain. The darkness was there in an instant, cold and dark, he felt the traces of the evil that lingered within and it had him second-guessing himself. Yet the sheer amount of deep soul-shattering love he felt for Liana told him that it out negated the negative traces he felt in his magic.

Closing down his thoughts and trusting in his magic, trusting in Ambrose and the love for Liana, that the darkness would protect her and get the answers he sought he found he couldn’t completely close his mind away. He found his thoughts and magic was becoming a merger with the darkness and personality. Something told him that as Mox he was never able to accomplish this, that the only time he was able to come close to this was when he was buried deep in the woman that was sitting on top of his lap. A soft murmur of “Dean,” broke through the darkness and brought Ambrose so he was more than willing to do as she commanded. “Liana,” he noticed her eyes were heavy was magic, his own voice coated must respond in kind. “Are you not my Sacerdotisa?” The question had her jerking backward and almost off his lap but his hands steadied her from her hips, his voice low and hot, “I think you are.” Bringing her forward he placed a sweet innocent kiss on her lips. Her eyes never left his and it made his magic hum, sharpening his magic he bit out. “Then you need to fucking act like it,” her answer was to scoot her hips forward more flush against him. A soft meow sigh escaped her lips.

The knowledge that this was arousing her made him harder but at the same time steeled his resolve in getting his answers. Her hands petted him gently through his hair, lips kissing him at his neck, her voice caressing him, “Dean.” Her tone was low and filled with so much desire and passion it had him slipping a hand down and to the side of her shorts and inside her panties to see how wet she was. His fingers found pure wetness, letting his fingers caress her core back and forth then removing them and bringing them to his mouth he moaned, “I will never get tired of tasting you little girl but tonight isn’t going to be about you.” At his words, Liana’s eyes flutter shut and she gasps out, “and you call me a tease.” Shaking his head he bit back a moan and was able to choke out. “This isn't about teasing, little girl. This is about you learning your lesson.” Watching as she licked her parted lips as he thrust his fingers back into her dripping wet heat.

Her hips started to twitch and move in rhythm to his fingers, his thumb brushing her clit ever so often had her buckling hard against him fast. As he watched, she rode his fingers and had her softly panting and gasping then he withdrew his fingers. Smirking as he brought his fingers back up to his lips, sucking them clean, watching Liana watch him lick his fingers clean. Her hips twitched as she watched him, her eyes held disappointment. Her fingernails dug into the skin on his bare shoulders, her small voice begged. “Mox please,” the nickname she tried hard not to call him stumbled out in her time of need but in his state of mind right now it didn’t matter to him, “think about it my Sacerdotisa. I can bring you to that sweet edge countless times, I can even.” He pulled her hips back from his crotch and unzipped his shorts and pulled his boxers down, his cock sprung free and he moaned as he ran a single fingertip down his length. All the while he watched Liana hungrily took in the site he was presenting to her, “I can even make you watch as I find my release, by myself.” Lowering his voice even more, “you and I both don’t want that, do we my sweet young Sacerdotisa, you would much rather we both find our pleasure in one another tonight, right?” At those words, he began to stroke his dick.

He kept his strokes light and unhurried, he tilted his head back- eyes closing because he didn’t need to see Liana to know she was watching his hand intensity nor that she would reach out to overlap his hand with her own. Widening his leg stance, without a second thought he removed his hand he was pleased to feel her continue to stroke him. “That’s right, baby. Nice and slow, depending on how stubborn you want to be, will determine who gets their release tonight.” At his words, she shifts and he knows what she is seeking. Raising his hands back to her hips he harshly tells her, “don’t!” Letting his eyes flutter open he muttered, “don’t make me punish you, little girl.” She whimpers and he feels her free hand on his chest. Her voice is small and filled with so much desire, “my Profeta. I want you, please.” A moment of soft ghosted words, “I am so wet for you Profeta Ambrose.” The sound of that name awakes something so hard and dark in him that he jerks her hips forwards. “Show me Sacerdotisa, show me just how badly you want me.”

Watching as she pushes off of his lap he can only moan as she quietly slips off her shirt then her bra, taking in just how swollen her breasts were he whispered, “your breasts, little girl.” his eyes lit up as she cupped herself and gently pinched her nipples hard, “Is this what you want Ambrose?” Her voice is timid and so soft he growled, “what I want is your ass bare and your legs spread open wide before me.” Her eyes glowed with her magic and he watched as she slowly stepped out of her shorts and solid white panties then make her way back to him. Hand on her elbow he yanks her body to him, moving to give her nipples a quick lick before laying her down onto the couch. Spreading her legs wide, watching her pant in desire, letting his eyes roam over her as he gazes at her core and the dripping mess she is presenting to him. Slipping to lower himself to her sloppy core he used both hands to pry her open and took a moment to stare in appreciation. Licking his lips because she is so soaking wet it almost makes him spill in his boxers. Then she is crying out softly as her hips jerk in his hands, “Ambrose please.” Humming he lowers his head but instead of a lick he takes her clit in hard long suck, it has her back arching, her moaning louder, her legs snapping around his neck in an instant.

Her hands come to bury themselves in his hair as she bolts upright when he flicks his tongue against her clit. The action causes more moisture to gather in his mouth, chuckling as he pulls back and she snarls down at him. Wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, savoring her taste on his tongue he moaned as he let his finger dance at her entrance. Watching as her hips started to buckle harder and her moaning became louder. Letting his finger dip just barely within her drenched pussy, letting her work herself harder onto his finger just to the point when she was about to explode then he withdrew his finger. This caused her to snap, “no please. You just can’t.” Letting his magic glow in his eyes, coming to lean over her he snapped. “This is your lesson Sacerdotisa, not mine.” Shifting onto his knees he lets a hand go back to slowly stroking himself, Liana meows at him and thrusts her hips upwards, “give me what I want, Sacerdotisa. Give me my answers and I will give you your pleasure.”

There is a tightening deep down in his balls and he knows he is almost done for this round. Leaning down to place a kiss on her lips he murmurs, “I am about to cum Sacerdotisa. I had hoped when I did so it would be inside your hot wet pussy but I suppose you're letting your pride deny the both of us.” Her cry is so soul-deep that he almost stops this game he has started, but one looks at the bruise on her neck and continues. Images of her on her knees come crashing down in his mind and he knows in an instant that’s how he will finish this round. Shifting to stand up he reaches out and grabs her under her elbows watching as she reaches down to stroke his dick he rumbles out, “on your knee’s Sacerdotisa. I want your mouth on me when I cum and you will swallow every last drop.” Her answer is to moan and to drop to her knees, the moment her mouth opens and engulfs him he is lost. Letting his head fall back as she sucks him dry he can't help but thank the Gods for her, for making her his.

After a few moments and she swallows she lets out a deep moan and cries out, “Ambrose please it hurts, so badly.” When he tilts his head forward again and looks down at her up-tilt face he moans at the sight of her. Her lips still have traces of his cum on them and there is such a desperate look in her eyes that his dick seems to forget that it should be going soft instead of hardening again. With a tight voice, reaching out to caress her hair. “Dry your lips Sacerdotisa,” watching as she licks at her lips, he moans again. He also notices her hand making its way between her legs, “I don’t want to punish you further Liana but you’re tempting me.” Her hand stills and she blinks up at him shyly and he nods in satisfaction but she manages to sob out, “please Ambrose it hurts.” Yanking her up he snarls out, “ you think I am enjoying this Liana? I want nothing more than to sink deep into you. The need to fuck you is driving me to a point of madness I didn’t know was possible.” Her body is shaking and he knows he needs to end this soon; she is too young to have been thrust into this lesson.

She moans, her voice is broken but she leans against him and murmurs, “yes please.” He tries to be kinder as he holds her, as he brings her in for a kiss. “Please what Sacerdotisa?” A moment of silence then a bare whisper, “fuck me, like before.” Her voice is so soft but her eyes are dark and lost to her need and desire. He growls in frustration he pushed too hard in one direction and it would cost the answers he wanted. Murmuring, he still tried, “like before?” She could only offer a whimper, “Sacerdotisa? Answer me, like before? Did I fuck you last night?” Her voice is painful and full of need, “ anything please just.” Raising his hand to cup her throat as he must’ve last night he asked, “did I punish you as I fucked you last night Sacerdotisa?” Shaking her head, she moaned and pressed harder into his hand around her throat, “just a dream, then you.” He backs her up until she hits the couch and falls, but she keeps his hand around her throat. “Then what baby?” He asks as he falls with her, careful not to hurt her, she instantly opens her legs for him and he blindly thrusts in.

She cums around him before he can bury himself all the way within her. Her voice is airy as she moans, “You, oh Gods you feel so good, Ambrose.” Leaning over her smaller body, “I am going to fuck you hard and fast baby. I need to cum again.” She sobs and her magic flutters in her eyes and her hips are thrusting against him, “you didn’t know me. Didn’t believe I was yours. You didn’t even wait.” Her words were mere sobs and her fingers were digging into his ass trying to get more of him within her. Grinding his teeth together he tries to fight against the pleasure and concentrate on her words but it was unless her body was too hungry and needful and he was too deep in the feel of her to care about the words she was groaning.

Moaning as the sounds of her cries of pleasure filled the room, he is grunting and her sobs of pleasure were louder than normal because he had driven her to such an edge. Then his balls were tightening once again, reaching out to cup her face he gave her a hard kiss as he surges harder into her. Murmuring hotly against her lips, “I am about to cum Sacerdotisa.” Then he feels it as she coats his dick and it triggers him to give a few chaotic pumps before he explodes within her. He is aware that she is mumbling something and he suddenly knows it’s the blessing, feels it when her body greedily takes every drop of his seed.

A few moments later, they both are still panting when he mumbles brokenly, “don’t ever make me do that again Liana.” Her breath is still coming out hot and jagged but she whispers shyly, “and if I want it like that again? Popping his head and raising himself onto his forearms he stares down into her magical glowing golden eyes in wonder and finds himself laughing. “Baby if you want fucked just tell me, I don’t need to go commando on your ass.” Her face goes flush but she reaches up and murmurs, “and if I want it like that again?” There is a moment, looking into her eyes before it registers with him what she means but when he figures it out he moans, “seems like my little girl likes a different form of play than I thought.” She only hums beneath him and places a kiss on his collarbone. He places a gentle kiss on her forehead.

It takes him a moment to gather enough strength to carry her to the bedroom and place her gently on the bed. As he shifts down beside her he quietly asks if she wants to wash up and she moans sleepily that she would in a minute he chuckles and curls up into his arms and blinks at him. “So we can do that again, like soon right?” Moaning he couldn’t help but smile, “next time I won’t cave in so soon little girl. Think you can handle it?” Her body stretches out against his and she wraps her arms around his neck, “I want to be the best Sacerdotisa for my Profeta. I want to serve him in all ways. The best ways.” His heart thunders at her words but she shifts in his arms and he realizes she is waiting for him to say something. Reaching out to caress her hair he mumbled, “then one lesson every night. No cry-offs baby.” Her answer is a soft snore.

Laughing lightly, he simply laid next to her petting her bare hip, and thought over their play. It never occurred to him to explore Liana’s sexual preferences before now, not that he himself had a wide appetite, no out of three of them that had always been Seth. Granted he and Roman had been the two married men and had lived vicariously through their younger brother exploits, then he had met Kayla and became domesticated. At least that’s how Jess and Renee had described it.

So, he had learned a few things tonight, Liana liked to be dominated and pushed to her limits. It told him several things about what must have happened the night before, smiling as he buried his hand in her hair his mind thought over how demanding his little lover was. Renee had liked to be teased and to liked her teasing light but Liana was hard and full throttle. Placing a light kiss in her hair and chuckling as she snuggled closer to him he mused at just how well she took her lesson tonight. Her words are whispering in his mind.

You didn’t know me- didn’t believe I was yours! You didn’t even wait.

Glancing down at her sleeping face he tried to piece her words together, to understand her desire soak riddle knowing the answer to his question was in those words if only he would tease them apart?

Just a dream, then you.

As he yawns, he knows for sure that he ain’t telling Roman and Seth about this. Cause Seth’s remark about coming so hard that your soul is exploding from dick isn’t that far off the mark.

You didn’t even wait. Just a dream.

Mumbled words said in a need to be satisfied but fuck it something was nagging him in the back of his mind. Closing his eyes, fingers combing her hair, body going lax as he starts to drift off then it hits him like a mack truck. You didn’t even wait. Just a dream. Followed by Renee’s question of ‘You don’t know what this will do to you, you honestly want to remember the years of torture you went through in that place?’ His breath caught in his throat as he jerks awake and bolts upright. Glancing as Liana sleepily moved to curl up around him.

Fucking hell!

Slipping from the bed quietly he slipped into the shower to wash the dread away. In the deep of the night, he had woken up from a dream, a memory, and had taken it out on Liana. He could feel his body wanting to shake but he supposed something, something from his time in the Tunnels was preventing him from doing so. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself under the hot water and let his mind chase the rest of what Liana had revealed to him tonight.

He didn’t jump when Liana slipped into the shower with him and wrapped her arms around him, swallowing hard he whispered, “did I force you, Liana?” He had forced himself to stare straight ahead and not turn to hold her but at his question, he felt her push herself away and snap, “Dean, look at me.” When he couldn’t bring himself to do as she requested she growled, “I said look at me, Profeta Ambrose.” Her words were laced with her magic and he felt his soul respond, his eyes lowering to her face as he waited. “You're my Profeta. I could never deny you anything, my heart, my soul, my body is yours to command. What happened last night was unexpected but did you hurt me? No! Did you surprise me? Yes! But I enjoyed it just like tonight, it was a new kind of pleasure and I liked it very much!”

Searching her eyes deeply he saw the truth in her bright beautiful eyes and moaned but nodded in acceptance. They finished their shower in silence and slipped back into bed, he was almost asleep when she whispered. “I really did enjoy it, baby.” Burrowing deeper into the sheets and into her he sleepy tells her, “we will see about that after you take another lesson or two?” With that, she hummed and shifted to spoon against him, and sleep claimed them both.

——————————————————————————————

Sacerdotisa Ruby looked once more at the glass container that held the blood absorbing poppet, blood that was three quarters the way gone, it had been sad to kill the little nino but at this point with his mother was failing in controlling Profeta Ambrose and that made his life’s blood was more valuable to her that his life. Now a little of that life’s blood would power the poppet and let her gain power over the mother.

“I hope his death was a necessity Ruby,” glancing back, Ruby felt disgusted for the taller man, regardless if he was of her blood or not. “You have no power to question me nino,” of her blood or not the boy thought he was better than her, more powerful than her and she wouldn’t stand for that much longer. Humming, it was the man behind her that was the only way to get Liana back into the City, “do you bring me news of your sister nino?” Stilling when she feels hands at her hips, nimble fingers undoing the sash at her waist, she forces her body to respond to the seeking fingers and after a while, she feels a release glide down her thighs.

Hands bunch up her skirt and bend her at the waist in this action she lets her mind drift back to better times, when her brother ruled the City with an iron fist, to when he would take what was his and leave her spent and sometimes blooded in a heap on the floor. The boy behind her now is not even a pale comparison to the man her brother had been all those years ago regardless of that part of her brother's blood that ran through his veins.

There had not been another like her brother within the City since his death, that was until Ambrose. Jericho had been molding him nicely; he by far was still weak compared to her brother but more powerful than Bray and more than satisfying between the legs. That night in the cemetery even though he had not put any effort into their coupling had her body alive in ways she could only dream of now. Closing her eyes she let her body remember that night, trying to give something to the nino in exchange for the news that he would give her. Remembering Ambrose’s cock deep within her had her clenching around his dick and moaning, praying silently that the coupling would end quickly she chanted a blessing softly.

Feeling him empty in her, feeling him lean over her back, panting hotly against her ear as he whispers. “I have it on good word Sacerdotisa Rudy that Profeta Ambrose is taking my sister in like some kind of fucking stray. If that’s the case and if he so much as touches her I will kill him. No matter how much you like his dick.” Snapping around to face the nino she lets her hand fly, smiling icily when sees blood flow from his lower lip. “You will do no such thing, Bray is useless. To access the pools I need Ambrose. Therefore I need to restore his memories and his magic so he can fuel the streams.” She watches as he licks the blood from his lip, his eyes glowed a deep brown and for a moment she is reminded of her brother.

A smirk forms on his lips, “one chance Ruby. Don’t deny me in the matters of Liana, she will choose me and if you like I will let you watch when I take her to the pool and fuck her.” Laughing she can’t help but notice the lack of confidence in his eyes, “why would she choose you when she has someone like Ambrose? Someone that possibly could match her instead of leach off her? Someone that can give her untold pleasures instead of one-minute delights. I raised her better than that!” His scowl was dark but she pushed on, “you are not your father's son, Baron, your just a man playing pretend and the goal you have set forth isn’t in your league.”

Adjusting her skirt and sash she threw the last insult at him again, “my daughter would never choose a pitiful powerless man like you if she has taken Ambrose in between her legs, even if she was only to have pleasure from his pinkie finger it would be more pleasure your whole body could give her and trust me, my daughter will want her desires filled to the fullest.” With that, she swayed away from him and his thunderous expression.

——————————————————————————————

It’s around eight am and Dean knows he is dreaming again but there is no fog and the dreams don’t seem to reach in and tear at his very soul, he thinks for a moment it's because there is a small warm hand shaking him awake that or because his own Sacerdotisa has coated him in her magic, in her body, in her love and he is damn if he wants to explain that cause Sacerdotisa don’t share their magic and they sure as hell don’t love.

But mine does. It’s time to remember.

There is an image of a heavy metal door and when the whispered words of remembering hit him the door isn’t quite blown open but cracked open enough a person could walk through it. Memories not of his Sacerdotisa fill him but of Renee, when they met, their first kiss, the gentle way she had begged him to make love to her after he had returned from his first deployment, their wedding day.

Then there are memories of the day he stepped foot into the City the first time. Of Kai being struck down, of Cassidy dropping to his knees. Of the way Nox’s screamed. Then there is the biting memory of pain as Jericho starts his torture. As Sacerdotisa Lita demanded her lessons of pleasure.

Then the rapture of casting the spell ended Jericho. Seeing the pure horror on Sacerdotisa Lita’s face as she watched. The bliss for the next two months as he couldn’t feel his magic then pain as it came rushing back into his body. As Profeta Punk eased him back into it. As the Army finally found him and Cassidy, they proceeded to drill them for the nearly two-plus years of hell they had lived.

Then the shock awaited him back in Vegas. The rejection from his wife, at the feel of his magic, the cold hard truth at the feel of the new life that grew within her. A life that he had no part of making. Then the heartbreak of coming to the decision of leaving it, HER, all behind and return to the hell that had imprisoned him for two years.

The shock of seeing Roman and Seth stepping off of a chopper and into the City. The pettiness between his brothers and Cassidy. Then a letter from Montana, an offering of fudge. Sad honey-filled eyes haunt his dreams and make his cock hard all at the same time, then a blessing being cast. Pleasure filling his magic but his body staying empty- then there was a snap in his head.

The feel being encased in sweetness. The smell of oranges and the images of a young beautiful woman is reaching for him. And for his magic. As he sinks into her, her magic demands his and it makes him hard in new ways. The beautiful woman is moaning for him, coming all around his cock.

A soft sweet voice is calling out to him, “Dean, baby you need to wake up.” The voice calling out to him belongs to the voice that is moaning for him but it’s all wrong. He wants her to want him as a whole, and he knows (somehow) she is calling out to his weak pitiful side. “Don’t call me that,” there is amusement in her voice. “I cry your pardon Profeta Ambrose,” letting a smile form he knows she is playing now. She likes to play, play hard- hard and fast. Likes to fuck the same way too, “I need to teach to be dirtier baby.” She laughs as she whispers in his ear, “you can make me dirty anyway you want me.” Those words have him moving and rolling on top of her in a flat second, his sleep is long since forgotten.

Sadly, her eyes are laughing at him and her body is fully clothed from him. “The fuck Montana?” Her eyes are wide but her voice is questioning, “Dean?” Narrowing his eyes down at her he reminded her, “I told you not to call me that.” There is a pause and he wonders why she would ever call him by his middle name in the first place? His magic sparks at his right arms and it has her surging up in his arms, “Mox, baby?” Her voice cracks and is questioning him but he doesn’t dwell on it, instead he lowers her back down onto the bed and kisses her roughly.

There is a sound deep within the house that finally pokes his desire fogged mind and he pulls back, “Montana what’s?” Her eyes take a moment to focus and then she is snapping out from under him, “you’re a bad boy distracting me like that.” Smirking as he stretches out in the bed he lets her eyes drink him in, “Mox baby stop, we can’t.” Her voice is uncertain and she is nibbling on her lower lip, letting a hand rub his abs, watching her watch him. “Why not? Is Sammy awake yet?” She shakes her head and whispers, “Lt. Colonel Cena is in the front room, waiting on you.”

Sighing in disappointment he rolled to the beds edge and took his time in getting up, glancing up when Liana brought him a pair of boxers and shorts he smiled and nodded his thanks. Slipping them on when he was standing, he noticed Liana had slipped out of the bedroom and he listened as she started talking lightly to Sammy, glancing around he called out, “babe where’s my hiking tee.” The room, even with the air on, was hot and he wanted to wear as little as possible, she called back quickly, “dresser, left side, three drawers down.” Finding a white tee that had the sleeves cut off he tossed it on and smiled as his dog tags clinked together with the crystal necklace he wore.

Walking out into the living room he noticed that the former Major looked tired and beat all to hell and back, “sorry for the wait sir.” He felt Liana come up behind him, heard Sammy call out his morning ‘dada’, and felt a smile on his lips. Watching Cena nod in silent greeting he sat down and cocked his head when Liana plopped Sammy into his lap, “may I get you anything Colonel?” Cena smiled and shook his head and Liana nodded and went to the kitchen.

“I am sure that Rollin’s and Reign’s have explained the basics to you, LT Moxley?” Jon felt his core shift, sitting Sammy down on the floor he leaned forward, and with his magic brimming in his eyes he asked, “just tell me how the fuck do I get my City back from that greedy ass bastard?” A moment later LT Colonel John Cena smiled and leaned forward as well, “I am so glad you asked.” He could not stop his magic from sparking in pleasure.

——————————————————————————————

This story didn't want to be rewritten. I would nit pick it to death. I this point I am simply giving you this. Sorry. I am tired of staring at it. Plus with a new 4-month-old kitten in the house. Not much is getting done these days.

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embrassemoi · 3 years ago

Text

No Body, No Crime ✁ 1

AU - Y/N L/N is a second-year law student attending Stanford and studying under Professor Aaron Hotchner. Along with his associate attorneys, Ms. L/N is alongside some of the most ambitious and cutthroat law students in the nation. However, her life gets flipped upside down as she’s thrust into a life of murder, sex and lies.

Main Pairing: Spencer Reid x [F]Reader

Content — Mature themes, blood, major and minor character death, violence, angst, triggering themes, bad coping mechanisms, drugs, mental health shit, alcoholism, lots of smut, language, fluff, mystery, thriller, mentions of cheating, canonical typical themes , dark academia vibes, explicit content - read with caution

DISCLAIMER: This story will contain MATURE content. It will include themes such as smut, violence, etc (see content). If you are not 18+ and unable to handle such themes, respectfully, please exit this story. It is not my intention to make readers uncomfortable or trigger them in any way. If you continue to read the story despite the multiple warnings, I am not responsible for any triggers that may pop up.

Also, based off this blurb!

I am also not a law student, so there is bound to be misinformation!

【 ao3 | Masterlist | Playlist 】

CHAPTER 1: Death and All His Friends

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Blood, she thinks, you never really know how much blood is in a person. Logically, she did know; she had to learn how many pints there were in the human body from med school and the mass amount of profile study cases. From looking at crime scenes, reading textbooks, medical journals and fake charts; blood has never bothered her, if anything, she got used to seeing and being around it.

There are roughly about ten gallons of blood in the average adult, but typically, losing more than forty percent will result in death. That was about two thousand millilitres.

But, you never realize just how much blood a person can hold, not until a human is slaughtered like an animal, eyes glossed over, body turned cold and stiff — splayed out in front of you. It seems like a lot more than what was described.

There’s a saying, bleed like a pig. Well, she understood what it meant now.

God, she sounded like Spencer.

“What are we going to do with the body?”

“Let’s leave it. We need to go back and clean!”

“No, let’s bury it.”

A chuckle of utter disbelief forces its way out of Derek’s mouth in a rush. It’s both strained and ragged and sounds as if he’s about to burst into tears, but the shock and anger seem to immerse deep in his bones and control his actions. His head shakes subconsciously, “You’re — you’re fucking joking, right? It’s the middle of winter! Tell me how the fuck we’re going to bury a body when the soil’s hard?!”

There’s a collective panicked sigh that goes through the group as the implications finally start to settle in.

“Be any louder!” Emily half-shouts. She paces back and forth, the freshly fallen snow crunches under her shoes as they leave footprints in their wake. Her hands make extravagant hand movements, almost in an attempt to speak with her actions. But, the only thing that has Y/N somewhat grounded is the rusty blood on Emily’s hands. The stark contrast of her pale skin against the deep red does nothing but make bile rush to her throat.

“The body is what gets us caught!” JJ cuts in through her half-sobs.

“The one time it snows in California! Since when do we get snow?!”

Sticky, cold, dry, flakey blood. It brings too much attention to the blood painting her body in a cruel, evil painting. Y/N lifts a shaky hand as she turns to observe the way the pads of her fingers were stained red. Underneath her fingernails, she can see the blood caking, dried underneath and can feel the heavy liquid travelling up her sleeve.

Her fingers pressed together before a hand shoots up, trying to pick off the blood in a hasty attempt.

Everything was uncomfortable — too uncomfortable and it was sticky and disgusting and there was too much happening. Her brain was overstimulated and all she wanted to do was yell or cry or strip herself clean from these heavy clothes, hiding the blood drenching her underneath. A hand went to claw at the fabric — she needed to breathe — she needed air and it was too tight and —

The falling snow had finally come to a stop, the ground becomes muddy, wet snow being tracked all around but aside from that, it’s dry out. Panic is slow seep within her body, only just registering the dull, prickling ache that travels up the side of her right arm. Not to mention the pounding in her skull felt like someone had taken a power tool, drilling a burl hole into the side of her head in hopes of creating a make-shift lobotomy. On instinct, her hand reaches up to her temples, massaging small circles in hopes to find relief.

But then she catches sight of her hand again from her peripheral vision, or rather, it’s as if she can feel it laminating her skin. Blood.

Now there must be smeared streaks of dried blood coating her face. Fuck, now she really feels like throwing up.

A soft wail can be heard in the background somewhere, but it sounds distant and underwater. She thinks it’s JJ. Her high-pitched cries are loud and she thinks that’s Derek’s voice yelling at her and god… it only amplifies her headache.

She needed an aspirin, Advil — maybe Spencer had some.

Her mind wanders back to the group. Emily… Emily — she’s — Y/N doesn’t know where Emily went actually. She could have sworn she was by the trees…

She continued to pick at her skin absentmindedly, and now she couldn’t tell where her blood started and the one that was sprayed onto her ended.

And Spencer, he’s pacing and hadn’t muttered a word since they left Hotch’s house. His body language is closed off, his hand rubbing up and down his arms in either a self-soothing method or because it’s cold out. She assumes it’s the former.

The one time — the one fucking time the asshole is supposed to be smart, his IQ magically drops below zero.

Everyone is arguing and they all hear the faint cheers, laughter, early fireworks and music blaring in the background. The sound of the bonfire crackles in the distance and all she can do is drown it out. She was supposed to be having fun. She should’ve been visiting home, or maybe studying of fucking Spencer, not wearing shoes twice her size, gloves to cover up her fingerprints; not trying to come up with an alibi and there definitely shouldn’t be someone else’s blood clinging to her. She should’ve been anywhere but here. It’s too much.

Lightheaded, Y/N stumbles backwards, supporting herself against a nearby tree. The shadows and black coat camouflaged her, engulfing her into the night and she feels an odd sense of comfort by it. But, it does anything but calms her down as her chest begins to rise rapidly up and down.

Oh god, oh shit, shit, shit! They’re all fucked — she’s fucked. Her DNA is all over the crime scene. The crime scene is on her and probably under the body’s fingernails. There was no way she was getting out of this. It wasn’t even her fault and look where she is.

She should’ve listened to her Grandparents; don’t go to law school, it’ll turn her into something she’s not. Y/N smiles twistedly thinking about it, they were right.

You can’t get away with murder.

Shit, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

“We need to stop wasting time,” Emily announces, appearing remarkably calm.

“W-we should call the police,” Y/N mumbles in a shaky voice. Her voice hitches and she sucks in a cry.

All of their heads, besides Spencer’s, whip over to her; she’s on the verge of breaking — possibly even running off and going straight to the local police station. Her phone suddenly feels heavy in her pocket.

“What we’re not going to do is that! Do you want to spend the rest of your life in jail?!” Derek exclaims. His mouth goes to open again before he suddenly halts, looking over to Spencer and shouting. “Ayo, kid-fucking-genius, could you, I don’t know — think?!”

The yelling makes her shrink in on herself. Yes, call the police, turn yourself in. Obstruction of justice; tampering with evidence, manslaughter, attempting to hide a body, invasion of privacy, possible perjury — all this leads to incarceration and more time. Maybe she could even get a deal, say that she was in shock, dealing with PTSD. Immunity! Maybe she could strike herself and Spencer an immunity deal.

God — they killed her. They murdered someone.

Immense guilt bubbles its way through her before she turns to gag on air. Her hands clutches her stomach as she heaves, distantly hearing the arguing background.

“— about Hotch?”

“What about him? He’s going to put us in jail himself. If we’re lucky, he’ll kill us so we can skip a life sentence!”

JJ cries louder. God was she fucking annoying.

“He doesn’t give two shits about her —” “Could everyone just stop for a fucking moment,” a new, irritated voice cuts in. It sounds like it’s been pushed through gritted teeth, muddled by straining and holding back tears. It’s Spencer.

His eyes shut, the palm of his hands pressed harshly on them before rubbing them hard. But, they travel up to his forehead and through his hair, pulling down so hard that Y/N would be surprised if he didn’t already lose a chunk. But within a swift motion, he crouches to the ground in a fetal-like position; the balls of his feet roll back and forth, making his entire body bounce in small rhythms.

He’s having a panic attack, judging by the way his breathing cuts in and out in large volumes, hyperventilation bound to happen soon.

The entire group stays silent before Derek has enough. He walks up to Spencer, a hand clutching his jacket which forces him to stare straight into his eyes.

“Don’t treat him like that,” Emily tries to cut in.

“If you don’t give us something good within the next few seconds, you better pray to god —”

With newfound determination, Spencer meets his eyes with a fiery look, his chest puffed out a bit and his voice is even.

“We burn it.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✈︎༺━━━━━━━━━

Friday, August 29th, 2003

Palo Alto, California. Apartment 7

Four months before

A clanging sound reverberates throughout the empty hallway for the third time within the last five minutes. Her keys.

An annoyed sigh involuntarily leaves her lips as she struggles to lift the stacks of heavy boxes in her arms. Her attention was drawn to a bulletin board near her door. A missing person’s photo was plastered, marked with an eye-catching red border. Printed underneath a photo of a man in bold letters: George Floyet, twenty-five-year-old student at Palo Alto University. Last seen on July 30th, 2003.

When Y/N L/N was fourteen, she vaguely remembered people asking her where she saw herself in the next ten years. Now standing outside her newly rented apartment, sweating as she juggled a stack of large boxes without tripping — well, she certainly hadn’t thought this.

Life had many ups and downs, as cliche as that sounded. She hadn’t expected to graduate university with an English and Human Physiology degree, nor had she expected into medical school before ultimately deciding to take the LSATs, pursuing a career in law.

Truly, had Y/N used one word to describe her career ambitions at the moment, she’d say she’s pretty fucked and clueless. Although, she’d liked to consider herself fairly motivated, resilient, perhaps even strong-willed and quick on her feet. Scratch that, if anything, the one thing she did pride herself on was her ability to compose herself quickly and the want to overcome fear. It was a motto, of sorts, which she’d been sticking close to: going with the flow.

If anything, those were the attributes that built the foundation of what anyone needed to become a successful lawyer. Yes, that made her situation sound a lot less… pathetic.

But certainly, standing in the middle of a corridor in a shitty apartment with walls too thin to save money on rent, she’d consider herself pretty pathetic.

Oh, the joys of moving.

Just as she felt one of the boxes tipping, the sound of shuffling fills the hallway. A pair of large pale hands come out of nowhere, swiftly catching the stacked cardboard boxes with ease.

When she looked up, she hadn’t quite caught a look at the man in front of her as he bent down to pick up her keys. But when he finally stood straight, eyes locking, she took note of his features

He was tall, much taller than herself and dressed in black slacks and a light lilac dress shirt which was pushed up by the sleeves. He was young, probably the same age as her or younger. He was wide-eyed, almost doe-like and wore a nervous yet seemingly gentle expression.

“Hello,” said the stranger. His hair was rumpled as if he’d just woken up as darken eyebags accentuated his face. His face was sharp, features dark — but in a soft sharp way that made the shape of his nose and lips the most noticeable. Pink lips, a tired look, pretty face.

This stranger was friendly and very attractive. That was her first impression of him.

“Hi,” she replied, a bit breathless from the weight of juggling the boxes. But still, she smiled and her head tilted to the side slightly.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were my new neighbour, I hope you don’t mind me helping, you looked like you needed it,” he says nervously, his extra free hand goes back to rub the back of his neck.

Y/N’s eyes shoot over to the door at the end of the hallway, conveniently next to hers: apartment 8. He must've heard the banging against the doors and walls, and suddenly, she felt guilty. She must’ve woken him up.

“Haha, yeah! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

“No! It’s fine.”

Now, both stand there a bit awkwardly before she coughs, which has him nodding and fumbling with her keys in his hand, “Er — I have a couple of minutes before I leave for work, do you still need help?”

“Right, yes!”

Y/N hands him over her other box, her hand taking the keys back as she clicks open her door. The smell of cleaning products filled her nose along with the smell of old books. It’s spacious, considering what she’s paying for it. It’s a flat, aside from the bathroom and kitchen and there’s a small balcony that’s connected with another set of railings outside. The view of green trees and flowers could be seen and suddenly, Y/N considers herself lucky when she’s realized the place she’s snagged.

The man trails behind her, setting the boxes down on the kitchen counter before dusting off any non-existent lint off his pants. His eyes quickly scan the area, in an analytical fashion.

He clears his throat, “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

She nods too, walking back up to her door to lead him out. “Likewise, neighbour.”

This time, a real smile crosses his face before looking down sheepishly, a small tint covering his cheeks. “Please, I’m Doctor Reid — but please, call me Spencer.”

“Doctor?” Her face lights up with curiosity. This man looks as young as her, younger — and she’s only twenty-four.

“Oh, I don’t practice medicine,” he quickly adds. His hands go to fiddle with each other, “I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187,” he explains. However, it’s not in a blatantly rude manner — like he’s trying to flaunt it. If anything, he looks embarrassed. His head drops to look down at his shoes, trying to make himself appear smaller, seeming uncomfortable. But like she said, Y/N likes to believe she’s quick on her feet.

“Well then, Doctor,” she teases, which has him going a deeper shade of pink, “I’m Y/N L/N, I have no PhDs, I used to practice medicine and I have an IQ of — probably a hundred or less.

At this, Spencer visibly relaxes as a deep chuckle makes its way out. He nods again, making his way out the door and does a small wave before disappearing back into his apartment. Y/N leaves her door open, but her back is faced towards it as she hears his door click back open and she feels the vibrations of his door closing before the tapping of his feet becomes more and more distant.

There are a dozen other boxes she ends up hauling in, but she’s noticed that Spencer must have somehow carried a few of the boxes to the top of the stairs rather than just leaving them in the lobby.

As she wipes down the surfaces, music blasting through her earbuds before unboxing her new bed frame, a smirk crosses her face; cheap rent, enrolled at one of the top law schools in the country, has enough money saved for the next few months and a cute, tall, polite and a fucking doctor that just so happens to be her neighbour — damn, Y/N doesn’t mind this at all.

【 Next Chapter 】

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abundanceofnots · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt! After seeing that ball gag in the basketball hoop in their room, I’m hilariously imagining Franny wandering downstairs with it during breakfast or something and everyone freaks out about it, or something similar lol

Forewarning: As you could’ve guessed, this one is pretty dirty. In fact, I’ll probably never recover from writing some of these words. You’ll know which ones I mean. Damn it, Shameless, why are these things canon?!

---

They were talking again. Loud, like they didn’t give two shits who could hear them, even though the house was full of people.

Lately, it’d become almost nonstop, and Debbie had just about enough of it – and them.

“Take it, you insatiable slut!”

“Yes, fuckin’ impale me with your monster cock!”

As she stood behind the closed accordion door, which frankly did nothing to silence all the bizarre exclamations and assorted sex noises, she scrunched her face in disgust. Thankfully, her ears only felt like they were bleeding, and the real damage was happening just to her inner calm.

This time, Ian and Mickey were going at it at half past seven on a Sunday, throwing around words that would make even the creators of bad pornos cringe.

They’d been on her shitlist ever since she found several dried come stains on her lilac bath robe, and really, her frustration with them only grew stronger from there. It was one thing that they apparently made sex into a full-time hobby; sounding like absolute perverts throughout their daily (and nightly) numerous rounds was another.

Debbie could take it no more. She was long past the point of finding it funny. There were now very specific, lewd details about her older brother forever embedded in her mind – and she fondly looked back at the days when Ian was still behind bars and dearly missed.

Checking that her palm was covering Franny’s eyes, she squeezed her own eyes tightly before getting a blind hold on the accordion door. She yanked it open, immediately causing the verbal vomit to stop.

“The actual fuck, Debbie!”

She heard scrambling and annoyed groans and, eventually, to what sounded like a fight over the comforter, the bed creaked as someone got off it. She took that as her cue and secured her hold on Franny, who started to dig her little fingers into Debbie’s palm.

“I’ve had it with you two assholes!” she raged, using her free hand to gesticulate wildly. “I was fine with the exaggerated moans and the fact that seeing your ugly naked asses around on a daily basis was now a given, but if I have to hear the words uber-masculine slut and dom top daddy one more time, I’m gonna make sure you won’t be able to stick your dicks anywhere. For a long time.”

She paused, becoming faintly aware that someone was hurriedly trying to get dressed somewhere to her left.

“Now, I’m gonna go back to bed,” she continued, much calmer, satisfied that her case was being heard without protests, “and you’re gonna watch Franny because you both owe me. Big time.”

The room was silent, the atmosphere tense. Debbie let out a frustrated huff.

“Just tell me when,” she prompted, too scared to open her eyes.

For a second, it seemed like Ian and Mickey argued without saying a thing out loud. Then, settling on whatever, Ian cleared his throat.

“Yeah.”

Debbie immediately regretted not leaving without sparing them another glance. Because while Ian was at least dressed, standing in front of her in his boxers and a T-shirt that was both too tight and inside-out, Mickey sat on the bed only with the comforter bunched in his lap.

They were both sweaty and out of breath, and Debbie felt herself flush when she noticed the visible handprints on Mickey’s neck.

Still, she recovered fast, piercing them both alternately with a hard stare. “Can’t believe I even have to say this, but no fucking in front of my kid!” she warned, pointing her finger at them.

---

The slam of Debbie’s bedroom door successfully burst the strange bubble they got themselves caught up in. Their eyes instantly snapped to each other.

“I call shower,” Ian announced plainly.

“Fuck you, I call shower first,” Mickey countered. “I was about to bust a nut anyway.”

“What’s bustanut?”

It was the first thing they heard Franny say, and, yeah, Debbie was definitely going to break both of their dicks after this, wasn’t she?

“Well, Franny,” Ian started as he leaned down to her, maneuvering her a little so that she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Mickey’s naked form as he untangled himself from the comforter, “that’s a thing adults say when they have to brush their teeth. And your Uncle Mickey has a really stinky breath this morning.”

“Like you’re one to talk, bitch.”

Ian looked up to Mickey poking his tongue in his cheek, his loosely curled fist moving in front of his face in a rather obvious motion. He shot him a glare, but Mickey just pulled his boxers up and left the room, chuckling.

The good news was that Franny seemed content with that. Shrugging her shoulders, she hopped on their rumpled bed and started jumping on it. Ian decided it was better than having to crack the ol’ concept of male ejaculation to her on an early Sunday morning and went about his routine as usual.

It didn’t take long until something else caught Franny’s attention and she started making low frustrated noises.

Putting on his deodorant, Ian watched in the mirror as she struggled with the cap of their lube.

“Is this a special sauce?” she asked, all bright-eyed and curious.

Ian snickered. Franny knew all about special sauces ever since Liam started experimenting with making his own in the kitchen a few weeks ago.

“Yeah, I guess it kinda is a special sauce, in a way,” he replied amusedly. “Uncle Mickey says he doesn’t like it, but he’s a filthy liar.”

“Smells like strawberries.”

“Yeah, it does.” He turned, grinning at her. “Nice, huh?”

She held the tube out for him. “Can I try?”

Instead of opening it for her like she probably expected, Ian took it from her and shoved it in the closest drawer.

“Maybe in a few years.”

Franny sighed dramatically, and Ian observed in real-time as he started losing his fun uncle points with her. But it didn’t matter how pouty she got; he couldn’t actually let her play with their lube. Mickey was right – that shit was expensive.

It only took about a minute this time before she got bored again. Kicking the bed involuntarily with her feet hanging over its edge, she scanned the messy room. Finally, her eyes fell on a black leathery thing laid on top of the laundry basket by the bed.

“What’s that?”

Ian pursed his lips as he thought of the best answer, but before he could give her any, he got interrupted.

“It’s a ball gag,” Mickey supplied as he strode into the room with only a towel around his hips. His hair was wet, and the unashamedly self-satisfied smirk on his face had Ian roll his eyes.

“What’s a ball gag?”

“It’s—”

“A toy!” Ian said, a little panicky. “A toy that Uncle Ian and Uncle Mickey like to play with. Especially Uncle Mickey.”

Pausing on his way to their closet, Mickey smacked Ian’s ass. Waggling his eyebrows, he then leaned in to lightly peck his cheek.

“You betcha.”

Franny’s eyes widened with excitement. “Can I play, too?”

She got her hands on the contraption at the same time as Ian, who at first tried to scare her off with a stern look. Failing that, he started pulling on the strap, giving out a somewhat tentative laugh.

“Really not a good idea.”

“I wanna play, too! Please!”

“Franny—”

With an ear-splitting screech, she slipped the ball gag from Ian’s grasp and set off running out of the room.

“Crap,” Ian muttered, slapping hard at Mickey’s arm when he had the nerve to chuckle. “Dumbass, your dick’s on the line here, too, you know?”

In the kitchen, he found Franny making rounds around the table; the sex toy held over her head victoriously like a golden trophy. Thankfully, the only person sitting there was Lip, who seemed genuinely entertained by the sudden spectacle.

“Uncle Lip, Uncle Lip, do you wanna play with my ball gag?” Franny asked mid-run.

“Uh, maybe later?” Still smiling, Lip shot his brother a look, pointedly raising a brow.

“Franny?” Ian tried playing nice with a sing-song voice. When the kid slipped past him over and over again, he decided to change his tactics. “Franny! Gimme that!”

“No!” she yelled stubbornly as she took off toward the living room. Unluckily for her, that’s where Mickey, having come down the other set of stairs, caught her.

As he walked back with her, he held her under his arm so that her tiny legs kicked the air behind his back as she tried to wiggle free. “Sorry, kid, but Uncle Mickey doesn’t share his toys,” he told her as he settled her down in the kitchen.

Lip sniggered into his mug.

“So, breakfast?” Mickey suggested after he passed the ball gag to Ian. “I’m fuckin’ starving.”

While Ian hid the sex toy upstairs, Mickey made Pop-Tarts. And Franny, being the good girl she was, sat there through all that and quietly sulked.

Then, after nibbling on her breakfast for some time, she stood up resolutely.

“I’m gonna go bustanut,” she stated loudly, nearly prompting Lip to choke on his coffee.

He watched as Mickey cackled, and shook his head.

“Debbie’s gonna kill you both, you know?”

Mickey just smirked. “Can’t wait to see her try.”

#gallavich #shameless fanfiction #shameless #writing prompt #my fics #shameless fic

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fa1ryofshampoo · 4 years ago

Text

overflow

pairing: yeonjun x reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

–––––

I kept my hands tightly shut, badly wanting to emit a curse from how sharp Yeonjun is talking to me right now.

"Yeah, you didn't tell me that you were already home? I was waiting for you outside the office to fetch you! I was waiting for more than an hour, Y/N. More than an hour!"

"I told you my phone died! I wasn't able to text you anymore! You could have just gone home after you got the hint I was not there anymore! What's your fucking problem? Why the fuck are you making such a big deal out of all this?! I am so fucking stressed at work then I come home and you storm on me as if I came from a party or a night out?! Just what the fuck Yeonjun!" I threw my bag over the couch, not able to hold it back anymore. I felt my eyes watering from both the anger and stress I am currently feeling. I sat on the couch and brushed off my tears.

Yeonjun sighed and faced the ceiling. He brushed his hair back and I know how hard he's trying to keep his temper from exploding. His expression somewhat softened when he looked at me. He knows that if I reached my peak, there's nothing I could do but cry. Probably because my emotions overflow. But this isn't the time to feel sad. I've made up my mind that I am angry. "You're not the only one stressed, Y/N. I am too. I am stressed and that might have been the reason why I raised my voice and blamed the rest on you. I'm sorry, Y/N."

His apology is sincere, but my pride just won't go down. He sat down next to me and patted my hair which made me even more annoyed for some reasons.

"Fuck off! I'm so upset!"

I did not even bother to look up at him but I felt the atmosphere grow heavy. He put his hand away from my head. "What did I tell you about cursing? His voice was stern. I can feel my heart starting to race but I chose to ignore it. Still, because of my pride.

"And so? What about that?"

"I told you not to curse whenever we argue, didn't I?"

He did, but again, my pride. I did not answer him and continued to fume. I know he will continue to talk to me this way so I stood up to head to our room. Unfortunately, Yeonjun held my arm and forced me to sit back down. Instead, he stood up and held my jaw. It was so tight that I thought he's going to injure my face.

"I asked you a question clearly. You're not deaf. You know the answer but you ignored me." I gulped unconsciously and right now, I cannot find my pride anymore. What I can tell is that I am so nervous, afraid that this might go somewhere unexpected. And in one swift motion, he scooped me from below my knees and threw me on his shoulders. He entered our room and threw me on our bed making me yelp. With just the light beaming from the moon and the buildings outside, it's quite impossible to see anything but his silhouette. I felt the bed sink when Yeonjun came close to me. He placed his forehead on mine, his hand gently brushing my hair.

It hasn't been half year since we decided to become couples and live under the same roof. We've never had an intense argument until now. It was always just small misunderstandings. We both apologize to each other right after we said something wrong or if we ever hurt the feelings of one another. I guess it's the stress that really made us lose our temper.

At the same time, me and Yeonjun have never been this close physically. We have kissed, made out and touched each other with the restriction of our clothes but that's it which is the reason why my heart right now is racing like crazy, knowing this can lead to something else. Our breathing both ragged, fighting the growing feeling but we know none of us wanting to completely halt.

Suddenly, Yeonjun gripped the hair on the back of my head and spoke. "Have you decided to stop being a brat, huh?" I glared at him. I know I should not be doing this but I am so curious of what this could bring to the both of us. His lips clashed onto mine, kissing me like a beast found its prey. Starving. That's how I can describe the way we kissed each other. Our tongues unconsciously moving and doing their thing.

The next thing I know, I was sitting on top of the work table, my shirt and skirt now torn and tossed across the room as well as my underwear while Yeonjun's left with his underwear. He sucked my nipples, three of his fingers stretching and curled inside me while the other hand played with my other breast. I gave his cock a firm squeeze and pulled his underwear down when I felt him twitch and groan, revealing his member. I ran my hand on it, realizing that this is really happening. I was still thinking whether I can take him because he really was big. He made me kneel in front of him and I did not hesitate to take his cock in my mouth. He groaned and threw his head back in pleasure. My mouth waters just from the thought of him cumming in my mouth. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart." His words made my eyes roll to the back of my head and moan. I pulled, making a pop sound when I let go of his head which I guess turned him on and fucked my mouth. "Yeah, that's what that mouth do, hm." I am gagging but I don't care.

Yeonjun pulled out when I felt him twitching and held me up on the bed. He flipped me over, making my front lay on the bed and perked my ass up. Before I knew it, he licked a stripe up my cunt making me moan. When I pleaded and cursed from pleasure, I only earned a slap on my ass. "You have used your mouth too much today. Don't tell me what to do and don't curse. You got that, hm, sweetheart?" I can't say anything anymore, my breathing is uneven and I can feel a foreign sensation building. When Yeonjun noticed this, he pulled away making me groan in frustration.

"Impatient baby." He showered kisses on my back and flipped me over. Now we're facing each other, he gripped the back of my thighs while he rubbed his tip on my folds, the sensation I felt slowly dying down. "Tell me if I need to stop, m'kay." I hummed in response before he started pushing his member in me. My mouth opened agape when he's already balls deep inside. He hasn't even moved, yet we're both moaning in pleasure. Yeonjun wrapped his hand on my neck and pulled completely only to slam himself deeply back again. I held onto his forearm. Two of his fingers on my neck made its way in my mouth, sucking on it while he pounded on me. He was gentle not to hurt me but I guess it was his length and girth that made it so torturously good, I can feel my legs shake. I held his cheeks and his forehead rested on mine. "Fuck, Y/N, you're so damn beautiful." Kisses were shared again and our tongues fought. When that foreign feeling started growing again, his name came out of my mouth more frequently and I felt myself clench even tighter. His pace slowed down but his thrusts grew deeper each time until I reached my high. He kissed me down my neck and a train of curses left his mouth when he finally reached his own high, his hot fluid filling me. Our bodies stayed together for a while before he decided to get up and run the water in the tub. We cleaned ourselves before going back to bed and rest.

"I'm sorry again, Y/N that I stormed out my stress in you. I love you so so much. You mean the world to me." He cooed beside me and I snuggled to his chest.

"I'm sorry too, Yeonjunnie. I can't believe I cursed so much. And I love you very, very very much." And the thought of how much I love him hit me again. My love for Yeonjun is too much, it's immeasurable and I know the same thing goes for him. And just like my other emotions, my love for him overflows.

#yeonjun #beomgyu #hueningkai #soobin #txt #taehyun #txt imagines #txt fluff #yeonjun smut #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun

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secondhand-trash · 4 years ago

Text

Wet Cherry

A/N: me? Getting nervous over writing smut because I haven’t written any properly in a while let alone for a new fandom? It’s more likely than you think...

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

Description: Who knew red lip gloss could be so powerful?

Warning: dirty talk, oral(giving), female masturbation

Word count: 2715

Kuroo Tetsurou had been staring at you for a good while now and he was starting to feel very, very antsy.

He wasn’t particularly familiar with all the steps you took to doll yourself up, all he knew was you had maybe a bit too much fun with it and it made you happy so he always let you do your thing no matter how long it took. He was sitting on the bed and staring at your figure in front of the vanity, his mind slowly drifting away when he heard a light pop of your lips. It was a thick layer of red gloss coating your lips, the texture looking rather gooey as you smacked them together to make sure it was all spread out nicely.

He even complimented you on it when you turned around to face him, delighting you a little as he asked if that was a new colour.

“Ah, I wasn’t expecting you to notice,” you grinned as you took his hand before standing up from the vanity, “I saw the red and just knew I have to get it.”

You were not much of a fan of flashy colours yourself but you were well aware of the sentiment that was behind his love for the bold pop of red and had slowly tried to incorporate it into your own life more and more, which he appreciated. It was a beautiful colour on you, even though he wasn’t too certain if he was all too sharp towards the difference between the many existing shades of red.

At first, he didn’t think too much about it. It was just a pretty look on you. The red sheen definitely felt fitted for the increasingly hot weather, the juiciness from the shine looking particularly refreshing for the summer time. Until he started to notice that his eyes kept drifting back to your lips as the day passed and he realised that the way the gloss made your lips looked so plump and pillowy was starting to make his mind wander to places that made his blood boil hotter than the burning sun.

The red on its own was bold enough to have his gaze glued on you, but the way the gloss stuck together as your lips moved just added a whole other layer of visual appeal. He was trying hard to concentrate on what you were saying, but all he could focus on was how the sun light reflected as your cupids bow arched. Your lips were so glassy, almost like the bead of water that glided down the red aluminum can and spread the chill from his finger tips all the way to his body.

Or when you were sucking on the straw when you stopped by the cafe at the corner to grab a drink. The sight of you with your mouth wide and your lips pressed tightly around the thin plastic made his entire body tensed up. He tried to stop himself from linking it to other activities where you also had to suck on something long and hollow your cheeks but he just couldn’t, not when your lips looked like a cherry that was just pulled out of the syrup as you let out a satisfied sigh before releasing the straw. The red mark left at the rear looking especially erotic.

Cherry, that’s what it was. Round and supple, all types of sweet and sour in his mouth if you would let him take a bite.

The worst part was that you had been denying his urge to feel it for himself the entire day, swiftly turning your head away from him every time he tried to play coy and gave you a peck on the lips. He wanted nothing more than to just press you against the nearest wall and feel that wetness on your lips smeared all over his face when you pouted, warning him not to smudge your lipstick.

That was just cruel, plain cruel. Almost as cruel as the way you were licking and sucking at the candy in your hand as you blatantly ignored your boyfriend’s hungry eyes on you.

Did you know? Did you know that right now all he could think of was how you would look with your plump lips wrapped around his cock? Or the sweet sounds that he could drew out of you when he made you suck on his long fingers? You had to be at least be somewhat aware of the effect you had on him, that he was on the verge of combusting if you sucked and licked the round piece of red candy in your mouth one more time. If you were really deliberately riling him up as he was suspecting that you were, then you sure had a lot of control on yourself to not even spare a glance his way. One hand linked to his, you twirl the white stick on the other as you pulled it out, a thin silver string of saliva connecting from your lips to the lollipop. The coat of spit on the red candy had a sharp resemblance to your own lips, your tongue darting out to press flat against the ball before eloping your lips around it again.

With the lollipop in hand and your lips jutted out in a false display of innocence, you asked if he was feeling alright, that he was being more quiet than usual. What a fucking tease, so you did knew. He had to suppress the urge to just take the candy from your hand and make you drool over something else with those lips, to just feel them somewhere, anywhere. But being a man of good patience, he swallowed the saliva that was pooling in his mouth and smiled.

He was ready to wreck you the moment he had you all alone to himself.

You pretended to be shocked when he pushed you against the wall the moment the front door was locked. You gasped as he gripped your wrists, his body towering over yours even as he bent down with the aim at your exposed neck. His teeth dragged along the soft skin, biting and sucking as he went from the curve down to the dip of your collarbone. You could feel the wetness he left as he bit down, his hand pulling your collar down roughly.

He had no intention to stop until you were adorned in all different shades of red as revenge.

“Someone had fun trying to rile me up.” His voice was low at your ear, his hot breath fanning the sensitive skin at the nap of your neck as he spoke.

You grinned, the two red valves splitting cross your face and he just wanted to see how long that cheeky smile would last when he had his way with you.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” you said, rolling your hips up and hummed when you felt the bulge that was pressing up against you.

He groaned, “Yeah, yeah, keep running that mouth of yours,”

You yelped when he pinched your waist, his laugh ringing by your ear when you slapped him in the shoulder but he didn’t even budge. The grin on your face did not falter when he yanked you by the wrist towards your bedroom, pulling you down to the mattress so that you were straddling his lap in one swift motion.

“Feel this?” he muttered when he took your hand in his and placed it on his hard on, his much larger hand completely covering yours as he guided you to palm him, “Feel what you did to me?”

“Aw,” it would be a lie if you said it was not ridiculously hot to know that you needed to do so little in order to have such an effect on him, but you both know the best fun comes from the teasing. You felt your own arousal pooling up when his cock twitched beneath the layers when you darted your tongue out to lick your lips, pushing the thick gloss around as you collected it at its tip, “is the red too much? If I knew it would get you going, I would have wear glosses way more often...”

Bringing his thumb to your face, he mused as he gently touched the glassy liquid on your lips, feeling the way it stick to his finger. “On this cute mouth? Oh yeah...” you almost gave him the pleasure of hearing you whine when he brought his thumb to the corner of his lips and swiped the bit of red onto his lips, tasting the faint scent of mint at his finger, “Got me thinking about gagging you with my cock all day long.”

His filthy words had your back tensed up. His loop-sided smirk that had your knees weak found its way to his face as he sat back with one hand pressed on the mattress, the other giving your shoulder a light push. “Be a good girl and deal with it for me?”

Your hands lingered on his torso as you slid down, settling between his legs as you kneeled in front of him. With both hands gripping his thighs, you stared right into his eyes as you dipped down to take the fly of the zipper between your teeth and pulled down. You rubbed your thighs together when his breath hitched, your hands fumbling to peel the layers away so you could get to what he was packing underneath.

His cock stood up for attention the moment it was released from its confines and he felt his chest swelling when you licked your lips at the sight. You could be a tease all you wanted but you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. The muscles at his abdomen tensed up when you took a long lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, your tongue swirling at the slit to collect the bead of pre-cum that was leaking out. You were taking your time, like he was the piece of candy that was in your mouth just earlier, taking in the taste as it expanded in your mouth and torturing him in the process.

The moan he let out when you finally sank down on his cock was nothing less than sinful and you couldn’t help but whined, the vibration from your lips hitting him in full force. Your mouth on its own was enough to have him losing his mind, but the stickiness that was from the gloss on your lips added a whole other layer of pleasure to his senses. His hand instinctively went to the back of your head when you started bobbing up and down on his shaft, each drag of your mouth spreading the red stain around. The friction that was added from the layer of gloss had his hand clutching at the sheets and he felt the shivers running down his spine when the tingling of the mint slowly seeped through his skin.

You looked up at him, hollowing your cheeks as you took him in your mouth, your hand gripping what could not fit. You made it a challenge to get as much of a reaction out of him every time you are in this position, and nothing could turn you on more when you glanced at him through your lashes to see his head threw back, his eyebrows locking together with his lips parted. He was sitting back and the muscle of his body spasmed under the pleasure, his arms flexing as he tried to remain control.

His pupils were blown out when he looked down at you again, a choked laugh leaking from his lips as he gripped your hair in his hand and gave it a light tug. You had red smeared all over your chin, his cock glistening with the mixture of your spit and the gloss.

“Come on, I know you can take my cock better than that,” he said, the light pain from your sculp egging you on as you took all of him with one smooth movement. He groaned at the feeling your throat tightening around him, his tip hitting the back before you pulled away. Drool leaked from the corner of your lips but you did not pay it much mind as you turned your attention back to him. “That’s a good girl, sucking me off so well... so good for me...”

Your eyes were glassy from the tears that was starting to pool up from the gag and he moved his hand to wipe away the drop that was threatening to roll down your face. Praises fell from his lips as you continued to move and the way your hips were rolling against nothing from a desperate need of friction did not escape his sharp eyes. “Go on, touch yourself,” his voice was breathy as he commanded, “play with that pussy while you slobber all over my cock.”

The unruly piece of his bangs were matted to his forehead as he looked down at you, the lazy smile tugging at his face together with his flushed cheeks. As he sat back against his arm and the other holding tight against the back of your head, that was pure sexuality oozing off of him and you couldn’t help but feel the rush of heat in between your legs as you took him deep inside your cavity once again. Your hand digging into the tensed muscle of his thigh as the other found its way into your panties. Spreading your wetness from the tip of your finger to the side of your cunt, you could not hold yourself back when you slid those digits and stretch out your walls.

He groaned at the sight of you shamelessly grinding against your hand, you muffled moans on his cock making him drag your head along him at an even faster pace. You could feel him twitch within your lips, the knot at his throat bobbing up and down as he tried to control himself from snapping up into your throat.

“I’m close-” he choked, his breath getting heavier as he approached his high. About to pull out as he cum, breath hitched at the back of his throat when you gripped him tight at the thigh as if you were warning him to better stay where he was. “You want my cum down your throat, is that what this is?”

He chuckled when you let out a muffled hum, your eagerness to please pushing him off the edge as he fisted your hair tightly, holding your still whilst spilling his load down your mouth. Your finger was circling your clit when he released you, watching as you panted right after swallowing the salty liquid pooling in your mouth. You lips were stained with red, the gloss leaving a thin film around your chin. Trail of white leaked from the corner of your lips from the cum that you couldn’t swallow and together with your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, the whole sight made him feel the similar itch once again.

His arms were strong as he leaned down to scoop you up, pulling you up to his chest as he captured your lips in a heated kiss. He could still taste some of the mint that was left together with his release. He groaned into your lips when you went to weave your fingers into his jet black hair.

Flipping you over with ease, you giggled as he peppered kisses down from your lips all the way down your neck as he crawled off of you. A hint of dangerous amusement glowing in his eyes as he whispered against your skin.

“Stay here while I go clean up the mess you made on me,” he fisted his cock in hand, feeling the stickiness from the red marks you left on him, “and when I come back, I better see you all naked and spread out for me.”

You shuddered at the gravel in his tone, letting out a soft squeal when he pressed his hand against the dark patch at the cotton of your panties.

“I’m not done with my payback just yet.”

#kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu smut

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unsteadygalaxy · 4 years ago

Text

all is soft inside chapter 10

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3; my username is the same there!

previous | next

10. feet won’t fail you now

CW: blood, match violence

Elliott lands hard, the impact sending shockwaves through his feet and legs. His heart immediately starts to pound- three sets of footsteps echo around him and he dives into the nearest building. He scoops up a Prowler, inserts a nearby HCOG scope, and just as he’s finishing up, the door in front of him flies open.

He breathes, steadying his aim, and pulls the trigger five times, sending an entire clip directly into a Legend hopeful’s head. The poor man’s face turns white and he immediately drops to the ground. Mirage lets out a whoosh of breath, and finishes him off. He’s got two heavy ammo boxes and a level one backpack, which he quickly takes. Another set of footsteps quickly approaches, and Mirage reloads the Prowler.

The other door bangs open, and just as Mirage turns around, Revenant fires an Eva-8 right at him. Two rounds of double-fire pellets rip into Elliott’s chest and neck, and to his horror, he falls to the ground, bleeding and gasping. Shit! No! It can’t end like this!

“Hey, uh, need help,” he gags into his earpiece, blood pouring from his mouth. Revenant picks up a crate of shotgun ammo and leaves, reloading his Eva-8 as he goes.

“Damn, Witt, lose that winning energy so quick?” Octane teases over the comms, and Elliott can hear more gunfire in the background.

“Oh, you know,” he chokes, “it’s kind of hard to win when you immediately get downed by a goddamn murderbot!” His hands are slick with red and he’s fading fast, and he wants to throw up.

A giant smoke grenade comes careening through the door, and Elliott’s vision is immediately obscured. He presses his hands to his wounds, trying desperately to keep the pressure on so he doesn’t bleed out. “Williams, coming to my rescue? You shouldn’t have,” he says, and he coughs up a glob of blood that splatters across the floor.

“Shut up and let me focus, Witt!!” Anita’s voice is commanding and harsh over the earpiece, and it shuts Elliott right up.

Just as his vision starts to go fuzzy, he hears a percussive beat of bullets close by, and Revenant screams, his modulated voice garbled with rage. “Get back here, you coward!” Anita yells. “Damn you!” Elliott loses track of how much time passes, but just before he passes out, something sharp plunges directly into his heart. “Fuck!” he yells, and his body jolts painfully, sending his arms and legs flailing. Adrenaline and heat surge through his veins, painfully clotting and repairing his wounds. A rush wallops his head and Anita drags him to his feet.

“Come on, Witt, get off your ass and give us a hand, would you?” She’s panting hard as she sticks a syringe into her wrist. Elliott grabs the wall for support as a wave of nausea flows through him, threatening to overturn his stomach.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Williams,” he chokes out, spitting out the last of the blood. “How many are left?”

“Two, by my count. Revenant got away, and he’s still got a teammate somewhere. Looks like you took care of their third.” She nods over at him, seemingly satisfied with his work. Anita had consistently been the toughest to crack- Elliott had not yet made her laugh to this day- so he would take what he could get.

“Yep, wasn’t a problem,” he says flippantly, shrugging as picks up a nearby shield cell. “Poor guy went down faster than- faster than… uh, poor guy went down fast.” His cheeks burn at his failed attempt at some sort of joke, and Anita’s deadpan expression tells him she’s not amused, either.

She tosses him a Phoenix Kit, and he fumbles it a little before shoving his arm into it. “Not the time. Joke around later. He’ll be coming back for us any second now.” Her voice is short, and it stings Elliott’s ego a little.

The Kit depletes with a hissing noise, and Elliott is good to go. He reloads his Prowler with shaking fingers. “Hey, let me get Revenant,” Elliott says, readjusting his backpack against his shoulders. “Gotta pay the son-of-a-bitch back. You go help Octane with… whatever he’s doing.” “Sure you can handle yourself?” Anita sounds skeptical, and her eyebrows are raised as she reloads her weapons. “Me?” He forces an incredulous laugh. “Of course I can! Didn’t you see how well I kicked his ass the other day? This’ll be a walk in the park.” He hops up and down on the balls of his feet, still feeling a little faint from being brought back from the brink.

“All right.” Anita shrugs and gives her weapon one last check, and she’s out the door before he knows it. She probably just wants to see me get my ass handed to me, he thinks, but it’s not a big deal. He wants to prove her wrong.

Sure enough, the sound of robotic footsteps pounds ominously against the pavement outside. Elliott casts a decoy and stations it next to the door, hoping to buy him a few more seconds. Shnk! An arc star slams into the already fragile door and begins to whine. Elliott throws himself backwards, deeper into the building, and shields his face against the explosion. The door disintegrates into bits, and the sound is deafening in his ears. An orange silencer hits the ground with a sinister whoosh, and Elliott backs up more, leveling his Prowler as his decoy dissipates into the air.

Revenant charges through the open door and through his silencer, hefting his Eva-8 once more. Elliott fires the Prowler, and the bullets smatter against the simulacrum’s shoulders, barely missing his head. Elliott curses under his breath and dodges out of the way as a volley of pellets exits Revenant’s gun. The bullets connect with his shoulder and arm and Elliott cries out in pain. He casts a decoy and sends it running right at Revenant to give himself more time to reload. Revenant grunts in frustration and nearly pulls the trigger again just as Elliott takes aim.

A full magazine of ammo assaults Revenant’s head and chest, and he goes down immediately, his shields melting into nothingness. “Damn you, skinsuit!” Revenant screams, trying to crawl away. But it’s no use- Elliott finishes Revenant off, sending another magazine of ammo right into his metal head.

“Murderbot down!” he shouts over the comms, heaving a sigh of relief. “What’s happening out there?” He loots Revenant’s backpack and heals up while he waits for an answer.

“Two squads down!” Octane crows, sounding extremely proud of himself. “You’re really missing all the fun out here, amigo!”

“Hey, I took care of Revenant, didn’t I?” Elliott replies indignantly as he plunges another syringe into his wrist. “You all should be thanking me.” He’s being cocky and he knows it, but it’s so much easier than admitting he fucked up in the heat of the moment.

“Sounds like you’re two for two with him, Witt,” Anita calls, breathing hard from her and Octane’s fight. “Good work. Keep it up.”

Elliott raises an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by Bangalore’s open praise. “Wow, thanks, Anita! I’m touched, really. You do have a heart.” “Don’t make me regret it, kid.”

“All right, all right, fine.” He smiles and zips up his backpack, and then realizes that Bangalore really isn’t that much older than him. “Hey!”

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

kzzzhhhCRACK!

Shit.

A Sentinel bullet just barely misses Elliott’s nose, and he dives back under the scaffolding. His heart is racing and his pulse is pounding; this match has barely given him and his team time to breathe. They’ve just finished a ridiculous fight in which four different squads had piled up on each other, and he’s absolutely covered in blood and gunpowder. The only perk of continually fighting so many people is that he and Octane and Bangalore are fully kitted with every item they could need. Bangalore is taking a Phoenix kit and Octane is still for once, just getting finished with charging his shields. The banners report that there is only one other squad besides them, and Elliott is grateful. He’s had about enough of being third partied.

Elliott reloads his Prowler with shaking fingers and checks his Triple Take. After making sure the digital sight is correctly slotted, he takes a deep breath and aims up towards Cage. Through the sights, he can see Wattson’s fences crackling around each of the entrances to the upper part of the tower. Caustic’s intimidating form glows red for a moment and then disappears behind the railings. Dammit, Elliott thinks. Wattson’s fences plus Caustic’s gas make for a deadly combination, and an annoying one at that. The only thing that made that duo worse was Bloodhound being on their team, and if that charged Sentinel shot was any indication, Elliott and his team had a miniscule chance of winning if they rushed the tower.

“Who’s up there, amigo?” Octane asks, clearly ready to go. He’s literally vibrating with anticipation, and he makes Elliott exhausted just by looking at him.

“Caustic, Natalie, and Bloodhound,” he sighs, and ducks back into cover. “They’re set up in there like it’s a goddamn fort. Gonna be impossible to charge up in there.” He wipes sweat from his forehead and leans back against one of the posts.

“Well, where’s the next Ring at?” Bangalore questions, pulling out her holomap. She pinches her fingers and zooms in on their location, squinting hard. “Damn,” she swears, and dread fills Elliott’s chest. “The top of Cage is just barely inside the next Ring.” She snaps the map shut angrily and stuffs it back into her pockets.

Octane swears under his breath. “Looks like today’s just not our day,” he says, itching at his cap. He stands and peeks up above their hiding spot, just barely poking out of cover. kzzzhhhCRACK! His body flies backwards, his helmet blinking out of existence, and he scrambles back down to them, sheepishly pulling out a shield battery.

Elliott groans, amused and frustrated. The chances of them feasibly winning this match are fading fast. There’s no way they’ll be able to get up there undetected, and the thought of fighting upwards made Elliott exhausted. He’s so tempted to just recklessly run in, but something stops him.

Bloodhound wouldn’t give up, and neither should you.

He sighs, knowing it’s true. Bloodhound would find any way they could to dominate the situation and reshape it to their will. He’s jealous for the millionth time, and has to remind himself that Bloodhound is human and fallible too, even if he still doesn’t really believe it.

“All right, we’ve got a couple options,” Mirage says, rubbing his chin. “Either we wait them out, or we can charge up there head on before the Ring closes. Personally, I’d vote for smoking them out, but I’m not the one with the missiles.” He inclines his head towards Bangalore.

Anita considers this, then shakes her head. “Neither of them are ideal options. Waiting them out would give us the upper hand, but we could also take them by surprise by charging them now. We’d have to take out all the traps though.” She breaks off, still thinking intensely. “But if we wait for them to charge, we’ll have to deal with Bloodhound’s Ultimate plus Caustic’s gas. The next Ring is small enough that that’ll make the battlefield hard to navigate. Plus, my smoke will be pretty much useless. Bloodhound’s Eye will make sure of that.”

Elliott has to agree with that. He’s been trying to avoid thinking about them all day, but of course they’re on the last enemy squad. The way they had run out of the bar the night before made him extremely concerned, and his stomach churns when he thinks of how stiff and cold they had become. Elliott doesn’t completely know what he did wrong, but he knows he must have brought up something painful for them to leave as abruptly as they had.

But the memory of holding their hands in his makes his cheeks burn a little. He remembers how their grief had rolled off of them in waves, and how he’d felt so utterly helpless. Still, he’d felt closer to them than ever before, even though they were separated across the bar. Their openness had intimidated him a little bit- they were so naturally talented at making him feel better, and reciprocating definitely wasn’t his forte. But most of all, he had been stunned to the core by what he had told them. He would never be able to look at Epicenter the same way again.

“Witt!” Anita barks, and the way she says it tells Elliott that it’s definitely not the first time she has called to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Ring’s closing in 30,” she warns. “We’re charging up the tower. How many times do I have to tell you to get your head out of your ass?”

“At least a few times more,” he fires back, rolling his eyes. He’s frustrated, but mostly at himself for getting distracted. “Sorry. I’m good to go.”

Anita does not look convinced, but she just sighs and turns back to her map. “All right. I’ll call in my missiles. Ring should be small enough to cover the whole area. Silva, try to get behind them. Witt, you throw us some clones whenever you’ve got them. I’ll toss in some smoke to keep them blinded. We’ve all got at least one digital scope, so that should give us an edge once we get up top.”

“Sounds good, amiga,” Octane agrees. “They won’t know what hit them!” He’s fidgeting with his butterfly knife, and Elliott is one hundred percent positive that Ajay is going to have to deal with his sliced fingers sooner or later.

Elliott nods as he flips on the full-auto mode on his Prowler. His limbs are aching and he’s drenched in sweat, but he’s determined to see this through. Anita’s plan is pretty solid, and he’s got few qualms with it. Her expertise on the battlefield is something he’s always been grateful for. Careful planning and meticulous strategy were certainly her strengths, and she regularly put his on-the-fly ideas to shame.

She checks over her weapons and then pulls out her Ultimate grenade, just as a warning horn blares over the loudspeakers. “Let’s give them a show.”

The Ring moves swiftly, advancing across the plains of green grass with an ominous humming noise. Elliott only has a few seconds, but he peeks back through his sniper sights to see what’s happening in the tower. Bloodhound is still crouched next to the steel fences, and he’s sure they have an easy shot on him. But they don’t fire. They look away from their sights and shrug at him, as if to say, Show me what you are made of. A peculiar heat drops into his stomach.

He looks back through the sights for a split second, but his heart drops into his gut when he realizes they had forgotten something absolutely essential. “Anita, wait! Wattson’s py-”

But it’s too late- Bangalore cocks her arm back and lobs the canister forwards, a shower of red sparks whizzing through the air. Missiles crash into the ground, and Elliott groans out loud. “Shit,” he hisses, punching the ground next to him. As the missiles advance forward, brilliant sparks of blue arc out into the sky over a limited radius, zapping the rockets away like they’re nothing more than flies.

Bangalore groans, immediately popping to her feet. “Come on, we’ve got to go!” She takes off running towards Cage, just barely ahead of the rockets as they begin to detonate.

The ground starts to heave beneath his feet, and Elliott stumbles as he starts to run. Bangalore is much more accustomed to sprinting across the roiling earth, and she does so with ease and grace. Octane weaves in and out of the explosions at an inhuman pace, pulling out his jump pad as he goes. “Vamonos!” he cries gleefully, laughing as he soars into the air.

Elliott can barely keep up, and he can feel the heat at his back as he goes. He nearly trips and falls, but recovers at the last possible second. His entire body is killing him, and he can feel sweat running down his spine as he runs. God, this whole thing is starting to feel hopeless again. He can see it now- they’ll run up to Cage and Caustic will drop gas canisters everywhere, leaving them a minefield of fumes. Wattson will fence up all the entrances and neutralize their grenades, and Bloodhound will weave across the battlefield, taking Elliott’s team out without a second thought. He figures that Bangalore and Octane can easily hold their own for at least a while, but there is no plausible victory for him today.

He’s never felt this hopeless, this reluctant to try and win a match, and it scares him a little. Elliott tries shoving the thoughts away- he doesn’t have time for his self-deprecating tendencies. But the doubt creeps into his veins and stubbornly sinks in its claws, making it really hard to think without immediately assuming the worst. He feels antsy, anxious to just get this over with and go back to his apartment above the bar to sulk for the rest of the day.

Show me what you are made of.

He swears he hears Bloodhound’s voice in his head, and the thought suddenly bolsters his confidence tenfold. Mirage throws a decoy out through the smoke ahead of him, hoping that Bloodhound takes notice of it and not him. Shifting the Prowler in his hands, he winces as the rockets nearest to him detonate, throwing him off balance again. They’re almost to Cage, and he starts to sprint towards the stairs on his left. G7 and Triple Take shots ring out towards him, narrowly missing his running form. He makes it to the steel tunnel and scrambles inside, holding his breath as the last few rockets explode. He hears the horrible screech of shredding metal, and takes bizarre comfort in knowing that the enemy team is that much more exposed up in the tower as the doors explode. A high pitched noise plays over the speakers, and he knows that the final Ring will soon begin to close.

I’ll show you.

“Where’s everyone at?” he hisses through the comms, his pulse roaring in his ears. He’s going to win this game if it kills him, dammit.

“Ground floor,” Anita answers, and he hears her breathing hard. “Got hit by a couple bullets, but I’m healing up.”

“Second floor,” Octane says, not sounding tired in the slightest. “The rockets busted through a couple fences, so we’ve got an opening, but we gotta go fast.”

“Got it,” Elliott says, his mind whirring. “Williams, got any ideas?”

“Always,” she replies steadily. “Send out some decoys and try to join us down here. The zipline on the south side is still in the Ring, so we’ve got our point of entry. If we try to make it around to the other one, we’ll be toast. Only Silva has any chance of running in and out of the Ring and making it out alive.”

“Hell yeah, chica!” Octane laughs, ridiculously upbeat and much too excited for this. “I’ll be faster que un conejo!”

Elliott’s minimal Spanish comes in clutch, and he rolls his eyes. “Sure, buddy. Just don’t get yourself killed up there. There’s a hunter waiting for you.” He checks over his weapons, and after considering it for a moment, he takes the digital threat sniper optics off of his Triple Take. He’s not going to need it now- they’ll be fighting in too close of quarters for him to be effective with it. Best shotgun in the Games, he thinks, laughing at his own joke.

“All right, coming for you guys in three, two, one!” Elliott sprints out of the tunnels, sending all of his decoys spiraling in different directions. As expected, bullets begin to pepper the ground around him as he runs towards an entrance. The Ring is blocking off the two low slats at the bottom of Cage, so he makes his way to the west side door. kzzzhhhCRACK! A Sentinel bullet collides with the top of his head, and he screams in pain, launching himself into the double doors. They give way, and he stumbles inside, slinging off his backpack as he goes.

“S-shit,” he stutters, rooting through his bag for a Phoenix Kit. He locates one and stuffs his arm into it, his whole body shaking. Anita is there in an instant, tossing down a cover of smoke just in case any of the enemy team had decided to drop down to try and finish Elliott off. No such footsteps are heard, and Elliott breathes a sigh of relief.

Time is quickly running out, and the three of them really need to move. “Okay, we’ve gotta get up there fast. This is gonna suck, but I’d rather go down fighting,” he pants as the Kit finishes healing him.

“Already on it!” Octane is somewhere above them, and Elliott hears the whirring noise of a zipline. He looks to Anita, who runs up the ramp and disappears out of sight. Elliott clambers to his feet and follows, willing his hands to stop shaking.

“I’m gonna take out the doors!” Octane announces, and Elliott hears a frag grenade skip across the metal above him. There’s a huge boom, and the doors shred into bits, the noise of it wrenching through his ears. Gas hisses and spews just as Elliott clambers to the open third floor, and Octane begins to cough. “Dammit!”

The smaller man drops down to them via the zipline and immediately pops a shield cell. “I busted the traps, but Señor Apestoso just sent down more.”

“It’s fine,” Anita replies shortly. “Is the pylon still up?”

“Yeah, but it’s out of the Ring, so the circle barely reaches them.”

“Can you shoot it down?”

“No, it’s in a really weird spot. Kind of hiding up there. You gotta be in the middle of the room to shoot it down, and that’s a no go.”

Anita swears, but Elliott smiles, a fantastic idea popping into his head. “Not a problem. Let’s get back up there and send in some distractions,” he says. He hopes to God that things work in their favor, and he readies his Prowler before jumping to the zipline.

His jump pack carries him up, and as he lands he dives to the right, dangerously close to the wall of the Ring. Both doors have indeed been demolished, and so has Wattson’s fence. One post still sits next to the opening, barely blocked by two of Caustic’s gas traps. Elliott shoots the traps down, but a third one comes flying down to take its place. He’s too close to it, and it goes off, releasing fumes everywhere. Gas clouds his vision and chokes his lungs, and he tries desperately to back up enough to be out of it, but the Ring is too close. Sticking a syringe into his wrist, he dips out of the Ring for just a moment. The orange energy field bites into his skin, and he groans in pain, every nerve on fire. Damn, Natalie, way to go, he thinks wildly. Even in the middle of a match, he can still admire his friends’ expertise and genius, and Wattson’s engineering of the Ring is no exception.

The gas cloud dissipates and Anita and Octavio zip up, landing beside him. She shoots in a canister of smoke, and Elliott acts immediately. A decoy sprints through the busted doors, stopping just short of the edge of the Ring. Octane dashes into the room after sticking a stim into his veins, a green blur of activity that Elliott can’t quite follow. He skirts the edge of the Ring and throws a frag up onto the top floor, but it’s zapped away by Wattson’s pylon. A tattoo of bullets beats down onto the metal, and Elliott cringes, willing Octane to get out of there as his decoy disappears in a shower of blue sparks.

“Octavio, come on!” he yells. But Octane is fast, of course- he weaves through the barrage of fire with ease and comes skidding to a stop just outside the doors.

“Told you, amigo!”

“Not the time!” Elliott says, his heart pounding. Anita shoots in another canister and Elliott puts his plan into motion.

Another decoy runs lazily across the floor with a snap of Elliott’s fingers, and pretends to check the pouches in its belt. The three enemies upstairs do not shoot, having caught on to Mirage’s tricks. Anita sneaks in behind it, examines the radius of Wattson’s pylon, and makes a calculated throw with an arc star. To Elliott’s delight, it slips up above them and connects with Caustic’s foot before spectacularly exploding in a wave of dizzying energy. Elliott feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he takes advantage of the distraction.

He aims his Prowler up and fires, and the pylon crumples to the ground in a series of deafening crackling noises. His decoy hadn’t been a decoy at all, and the adrenaline of his plan actually working floods into his chest like a rush of water. His celebration is short-lived though- the sting of bullets begins to slam across his shoulders, and he releases all of his decoys. The cloaking does its job, and he takes a brief moment to hurl a thermite grenade up above him before sprinting out the doors. Wattson’s fences putter out, roasted by the flames, and Elliott breathes a sigh of relief.

He cheers out loud as he heals up, his body shaking in delight and shock. It had actually worked! But the job was not over yet- even though he can hear the other team groaning in pain up above him, he knows they still have to finish them off.

“Let’s go!” Anita calls, and she ascends the zipline, closely followed by Octane. Elliott rounds the corner, reloading his Prowler. Just as he makes it to the zipline, Caustic throws down another trap, which Elliott narrowly avoids before shooting down.

The steady chak-chak-chak of a hopped up P2020 rings through the air, and a collection of bullets from Octane’s gun collides with Caustic’s face and chest. Octavio moves to reload, but Nox catches him with a deadly Mastiff shot straight to the head, shattering the smaller man’s shields. Elliott ascends the zipline and unleashes a full clip of ammo into Caustic’s arms and neck, finishing him off quickly, but Octane takes a bullet from Wattson across the way, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

Anita fires a full clip of ammo into Wattson’s chest, and the engineer falls to the ground, wincing and gasping. She finishes her off, but the older woman breathes hard, clearly having taken a considerable amount of bullets from somewhere as Elliott was helping Octavio. Sure enough, the percussive barrage of an R-99 shatters the brief silence, and Anita falls to the ground, swearing.

Bloodhound emerges from the opposite corner of the room, and Elliott does not hesitate. The warning horn of the closing Ring roars out, and Elliott leaps down from the upper level, knowing there’s absolutely zero chance of reviving Anita. A few quick bullets follow him, but Bloodhound is smart enough to not completely track his erratic movement. Elliott sprints across the floor and out the doors, throwing himself off the tower and onto the grass below.

He hits the ground running, ankles and knees screaming in protest, and he thanks his lucky stars that Bloodhound can’t keep the high ground. He hears them roar in that deep, otherworldly fashion, and his stomach drops straight into his toes. The Triple Take slides into his hands as he turns, and he watches in awe as Bloodhound leaps off the tower far more gracefully than he had, surrounded by crackling red energy. He backs up, takes aim, and fires twice, but the spread of bullets is too wide and each bullet whizzes past their glowing form. He has to remind himself not to stare- it’s not the time to dwell on how powerful and majestic they look, nor is it time to listen to how heavy they’re breathing and worry if they’re okay. Elliott fires again, and the shot connects, but a torrent of bullets smashes into his chest. He swears, fumbling the Prowler back into his hands. In a panic, he sends a decoy running straight at them to give him more time, but Bloodhound shoots it down. They bob and weave, taking a second to reload.

Elliott takes his chance. He breathes deeply, centering himself, and aims the Prowler right at their head. Time seems to slow, just like it had with Revenant, and he applies the slightest bit of pressure to his trigger finger. The bullets fly out of the gun, and he doesn’t feel the recoil at all. Every bullet finds its mark on Bloodhound’s head, obliterating their golden helmet and sinking into their mask.

Bloodhound drops to the ground and convulses for a moment before going horribly, eerily still.

Shock washes through his stomach, and he drops the Prowler. A buzzing fills Elliott’s ears. He… he actually did it? He… beat Bloodhound?

He approaches Bloodhound’s unconscious form slowly, feeling like he’s in a dream, and stares at them. They look so peaceful, even though blood is leaking from their helmet down into the grass. He picks up their R-99, weighing it in his hands. A flash of memory and feeling comes to him from a few days before- Bloodhound picking up his gun and placing it over his sternum…

Mirage settles the R-99 across their chest gently. As he falls to his knees, a flash of pain crosses his chest. He knows he should feel triumphant- ecstatic, even- but the only thing he feels is sorrow.

Elliott picks up their arm, crosses it across their stomach, and murmurs, “forgive me” as victory music roars over the loudspeakers.

#miragehound #apex #apex legends #bloodhound #bloodhound apex #bloodhound apex legends #elliott witt #elliott witt apex #elliott witt apex legends #mirage #mirage apex #mirage apex legends #miragehound fanfiction #my writing

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sinfully-chubby · 4 years ago

Text

Moondust - Chapter 2 - The Mark

Warnings: not to much except for maybe some angst (or plain sadness) and a little bit of harassment, some violence (if that could trigger you please be careful reading alright, it gets pretty graphic).

Word count: 4,215

Hey everyone this chapter is way over due, but a lot as been going on and for a short while I did lose inspiration for a while. But I have a will that’s to dumb for it’s own good and it finally kicked me back into writing this. Plus I really want to finish this story. A fair warning while reading this there might be a few spelling errors, there also might be parts where things in the story don’t make sense and I promise I will fix that. I also have given up on naming chapters XD.

Bright lights that's all you see once your eyes are open.

Blinking you raise your hands to your eyes trying to let them adjust to the light. When you can finally see you look off to the right side of the bed hearing the slow beep of a heart monitor. Realizing you are in a hospital room you start twisting to look around the room to see what was happening. There was a large curtain up across the left side of your bed there was also a small table close to the left side of your bed which held your bag, as well as some other small items like you phone keys to your apartment and even your wallet. Looking to your right you see a doorway and some chairs near it.

Looking out the door you see people passing by in a hurry outside the open doorway. Trying to sit up in the bed to be able to look down the hall further you see the man suddenly standing in the doorway.

It takes you a while to realize it's the guy from the coffee shop from earlier that day. Quickly laying down you watch as another man follows him soon after, the man had messy brown hair that seemed to curl in a way that screamed bed hair, and a small scar peeking out beneath the few curls on his forehead, and big pair of round spectacles on his face, which just so happened was contorted into a pissed off look as he spoke to the blonde man who had turned his back to you. You assumed they didn't notice you were awake what with how they were talking to each other in a whisper sort of tone.

"That was very careless of you Malfoy! You got two muggles killed and one injured instead of reporting back to the rest of the Auror team about the location of the you try to handle the situation on your own alerting him that we were on his trail!"

Trying to not grab their attention you go to close your eyes, but already feeling restless from being still for a while you leg shift under the covers catching the man with the dark brown hair attention. Looking straight at you pricing you with his dark green eye's.

"Your awake!"

You flinch a little at the surprised shout he gives even he flinches at it as well. When the guy he was talking to, who you now know as Malfoy, is staring at you with beautiful silver eye's that seemed to shine brighter in the light of the hospital room. Both men stared at you before the man with the greens eyes walks towards the bed taking a quick look over you.

"Ma'am can you tell me your name?"

You blink owlishly at him before looking past the brunette to look at the Silver headed man. He was looking at you, observing you almost before looking away to the far wall trying to ignore your stare back. It takes you a while before you respond to the brunette's question.

"My names y/n l/n."

You say it almost quietly as the brunette nods and walks towards the silver headed blonde again to talk to him softly. You can't hear much on what they are saying, but the brunette leaves the room quickly leaving only you and the blonde behind. You watch him slowly approach the bed hands behind his back with a straight look on his face. Grabbing a chair that is sitting against the wall near a small table by your beside, he sits down and folds his hands in his lap.

"Miss l/n what do you remember from what has happened tonight?"

Looking down at the covers you pick at the small fuzz ball's there, you don't really know what to say to him. There wasn't to much you remember, but the one thing that stood out the most was the picture of Jason's body ripped open, you shudder thinking about it. Oh and poor Susan whats gonna happen to her kid, and the man who stood over their bodies. Who would do something like this?

"I remember that, that person in the ally crouched over Jason and Susan's body."

You swallow the spit in your mouth feeling like there was cotton just sitting there in the back of your throat. The image of your bosses body was terrifying you felt your self gag slightly. Holding it down you swallow again and look up at him, he is watching you carefully scanning your face for any indication of a lie. Ignoring his stare you continue with what you do remember.

"Did you see anything else happen during the attack?"

Looking at him once more you furrow your brows not quite understanding what he means by that. Thinking to yourself you remember the man who has come out of no where and rescued you that night.

"There was another man. I didn't see what he looked like, but he had come out of no where. Then there were...sparks from a gun...I think."

"Thank you."

Nodding his head at you he stands from his chair and moves to the door to leave.

"Wait!"

Looking back at you he narrows his eyes "yes?"

You swallow down your nervousness as he glares at you, making you lose whatever confidence you had in asking, but still doing so.

"Can you stay here a little while longer please."

He sighs before sitting back down in the chair.

"I have a lot of work to do so I can't stay for to long alright." You give him a small smile.

"Thank you."

You lay yourself back down on the bed as you watched the man who if you remembered correctly was named Malfoy sit down in the chair again. The silence between the two was awkward in a way as you slowly fell back asleep not hearing him whispering to himself.

Opening your eyes you see the sun filtering in through the curtains. Pushing yourself up from where you were laying on the couch, you stretch your arms above your head before cracking your neck and standing up. Looking around your small living room apartment confused. You don't remember getting home nor do you remember how you got home, but you assumed Jason or Susan probably did.

Seeing your bag sitting on kitchen counter you grab your phone from one of the pocket on the side of it. Checking the time you see it's almost 11:30 in the morning. Blinking owlishly you sighed knowing you were most likely gonna be late to work again if you didn't get ready. Not bothering to change out of your work clothes from yesterday you grabbed your bag and went out the door.

Catching the bus this time you check your phone seeing if you had gotten any messages. Not seeing any you furrowed your brow and went to your contacts to call Jason. Only getting voicemail you decide to leave one explaining to Jason why your are. It is 20 minutes before you arrive at the cafe, what with having to get off the bus then walk to rest of the way. You see a few police cars sitting outside the cafe blue lights flashing, you don't hear the sound of the sirens, but you knew something was up.

Walking towards the police officer you ready yourself for anything. Noticing you walking towards them one of the officers walk forward holding out his hand stopping you.

"May I help You ma'am?"

Nodding your head toward the building you stare up at the somewhat slim looking officer.

"I work here. Did something happen?"

You watch as the officer glance back at his partner and you feel a pit forming in your stomach.

"Ma'am can we talk to you for a bit?"

Being dragged off to the side you can see the other officer who looked almost exactly like the one dragging you off to side.

"Ma'am can you tell me where you were last night?"

Furrowing your brows in thought you shift your eyes to look at the officers badge seeing that his last name was Collins you shift your eyes back up observing him in a way that probably was making him uncomfortable. You didn't really know what to tell the officer what with not remembering much after you closed up for the night. Which just plain out sounds suspicious.

"I had closed up shop by 9:50 and had called a taxi to go home."

Quirking a brow at you he nods his head at your response.

"Do you remember seeing your boss after you left?"

You furrow your brow as you cross your chubby arms over each other, but not wanting to look like your were upset or something you put your arms back down at your side.

"I saw him before I closed up. He left me the keys so I could close up."

He nods his head writing it down in a notebook you didn't quite notice he had pulled out.

"Do you remember anything strange happening when you were leaving the building."

You respond with a short no and a shake of your head. Watching him finish write down what you had told him before closing the notebook and putting it away. Pulling out a card from his vest pocket he hands it to me.

"Take this in case you remember anything else."

Nodding your head he tilts his hat towards you before walking back to his partner. It was all so weird you do really not what was going on and that kinda scared you. Deciding you wouldn't stay you turn and leaving going to the bus stop and catching the next bus back to your place.

During the ride home you sat by the window looking out at the you notice while passing by one building that there were more police coming down the road, which only brought up more questions on what had happened. Slumping in the seat on the bus you see some guy staring at you. His silver-ish blonde hair shining from the dim lighting on the bus. His silver eye's staring at you. You look away quickly knowing he was probably judging you and the way you looked. It was probably a irrational thought to have, you know that not everyone is looking at you and the way you look, but that's never stopped a view that did stare

Praying that your stop will come sooner, you felt the bus come to another stop as someone else got on. You see a couple leaving the bus and watching as the people finish passing by you notice the guy no longer there. Thinking he might have gotten off the bus you go back to looking out the window. 30 minutes later your off the bus and walking towards your apartment building.

When you finally walk through the front door of your apartment your phone goes off startling you out of your thoughts. Grabbing your phone from your bag you see your mothers screen name pop up. Answering the call you hold your phone to your ear.

"Hey mom whats up?" You hear her let out a heavy sigh.

"Thank goodness your alright." Confused you continuing talking asking.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you see the news on the TV?"

Confused You walk towards your TV and turn it on. Quickly flipping through the channels you see the news channel pop up. Sitting down on the coffee table right in front of the TV you watch the reporter intently as he spoke.

'There was a murder around 10 last night. Two victims a male and female where murdered not even a block away from where they worked."

Puzzled you watch as the screen changes to the Cafe and you let a small gasp confused as to what has happened you sit worried and waiting for more information you see more shots of the surrounding area.

"The police have not said much about what has happened to the victims nor do they have any suspects, but we are told that everyone should stay safe and not be out alone."

Shutting off the TV you stand from your seat on the coffee table and hold the phone back up to your ear hearing her panic asking even more intently if you were alright you responded with a short yes and told her that you need to go. Hanging up the phone you go to your contacts and go to call your friend Susan, but you stop at the last second. A gut feeling told you that you wouldn't get an answer anyway. Putting your phone down on the kitchen counter you take in a shaky breath you were going to need a drink and maybe a warm shower. Walking towards your room you grab some pajamas and walked into your bathroom.

Turning on the shower you step back and start stripping off your clothes throwing them to the floor carelessly. Looking up at your reflection you frown as you observe yourself, following the curves of you body picking at every little roll that stood out when you lifted you flabby arms before putting them back down again. Taking in a deep breath in you turn to go step into the shower when you notice something out of the corner of your on your left shoulder blade.

Curious you turn around letting out a small gasp at what you see. A black tattoo of the name of your soulmate. Feeling the tears well up in your eyes you make out the name Draco Malfoy written in semi neat cursive hand writing. You don't remember when this happened or why it happened and you almost felt like crumbling to the floor. Gripping the counter you let out a small sob as you stared at your reflection letting a small smile grace your lips you laugh. So many years without having so much as any soulmate mark and here it is after all this time.

You were kinda waiting for a punch line at this point.

Deciding to climb into the shower you curl yourself up at the bottom of the tub as the water fell over you washing away the tears and the pain. It takes all your effort to pull yourself up from the tub once the water starts to turn cold and take you even more effort to get dried off and dressed and slip yourself into the bed.

Staring blankly at the wall ahead of you, you feel yourself continue to cry letting out the emotions so pent up inside that this was just a dam waiting to burst.

Waking up you hear your phone ringing. Reaching for your phone you see an unknown caller ID looking at the time you see the red alarm clock blinking 11 o' clock at you. Looking back at the phone screen you decide to answer the call instead of ignoring it.

"Hello?"

An almost unnerving silence followed your answer before the heavy breathing kicked in. As unsettling as it is you pushed through with the call.

"Can I help you?" More deep breathing from the other side of the line.

"Is there someone there?" No response.

You were just about to hang up before a loud banging echoed from the living room and from the phone. Standing on shaky legs you walk away from the bed and towards the living room where the banging on the door gets louder to the point you can here it even more through your phone.

you stand near the doorway of your living room watching the door of your apartment shake from the force of the blows making you flinch back in fear. Than there was silence you wanted to approach the door but decided not to in fear, you almost forget the person on the phone until you hear it. An almost silent voice whispering out a small growl into the receiver of your phone as they spoke.

"Found you."

You watch the door cave in splintering in half as a huge man came walking through the door. You dropped your phone feeling the panic rise up inside your body. You bolted running towards your room and shutting it closed and quickly locking it.

Letting out deep puffs of breath you look around the room scanning for what you could possibly use as a weapon of sorts. Feeling the door jolt you curse yourself not seeing to many options for a weapon. Grabbing a small paper weight that was sitting on your dresser you quickly rush towards the window that was in your room and open it quickly. Feeling the cold air brush against your skin as you proceed to climb out onto the fire escape that was outside you main bedroom window, feeling the rush of panic run through you as you hurriedly climb down the fire escape.

Reaching the bottom of the fire escape you jump off and not quite landing on your feet as you feel your ass hit the concrete. Hissing out in pain you stand walking as quickly as you can until you get into a sight jog not taking the chance to look back to see if your attacker had somehow managed to keep up with you.

Continuing to run you look up at the street signs to see where you were heading. Pausing to take in lungful of air you look back, not seeing anyone running after you give a sigh of relief as you start walking down the streets trying to remember which way to go to the police department. While walking you would watch the few people you passed give you weird looks. It occurred to you were only wearing pj's and that they were most likely dirty, but at this point you didn't care you were just in a rush to get away and you doubt that if they caught up that you would be attacked with all the people around you, even if it was very late at night.

Letting out a puff of air you shiver at the cold air as you fold your arms under your cleavage trying to warm your arms up as you walked down the cold street. It didn't take long before your feet started growing tired, seeing a bench up a head you walk up to it and sit down your raise your foot up to inspect the damage you you foot as well as warm it up. You don't take to long, but it seems by the time your done most of the people are off the street making you feel nervous about the almost silent surroundings. Standing up from the bench you continue your walk to the police station. Shivering from the cold you look around the surrounding area seeing nobody else out on the streets at this time, you assume it 12 by now. Looking up at the street sign to see you were at you calculated that it was about another hour walk to the police station.

Standing up you continue walking warping your arms back around you to at least try to keep yourself warm. An hour passes by before you see someone walk out in front of you. Stooping you stare at the man a head of you feeling nervous you try to walk past him only for him to stand in your way again, fight or flight kicking in you glare getting into a somewhat running position. You couldn't see the mans face because of the hood he was wearing, but you could tell something was up.

Lunging himself at you, you manage to doge the attack and start running again. The cold concrete scrapping against your feet as you ran. You didn't get to far as you were grabbed from behind and thrown into an alleyway away from most prying eyes. Knees and hands scraping against the concrete you tried rushing to stand again, but you are kicked in the stomach cause you to gasp out in pain as the air in your lungs left your body.

Climbing on top of your body the man Grabs at your arm pulling it behind your back as he pushes the other one into the ground. Leaning over you he laughs slowly in your ear as you squirm in his grasp.

"It took a while, but I caught up pretty quickly didn't I."

Still struggling in his grasp, he tightens his hold on you even more causing you hiss out in pain.

"It took a while for me to find you, but once I had your scent I knew exactly were to go."

Listening to him talk you feel confused by his words. What did he want with you. What did you do?

"What are you talking about?"

He laughs in your ear you can smell his breath with the way he was so smelled like something curled up in his mouth and died. When he spoke you felt as if you recognized the voice. It was odd it sounded familiar, but with a more sharper edge than before. You knew he was the man from your apartment, but why did he seem so familiar.

"Do you not recognize me y/n? After all these years."

Confused you go to shout for help only to be silenced by his hand covering your mouth.

"Now we wouldn't want to be interrupted like last time."

Last time? What did he mean? Biting at his hand he hiss and slams your face into the concrete, A loud crack and you slowly start to feel blood dripping down over your mouth and down your chin. Sitting up further he keeps his hand on the back of your head as he leans back and tightens his grip on your arm.

"You put up a nice struggle like you used to before, but I thinks it's about time we end this little game right my little pig."

Twisting you arm you let out a silent cry as you feel pain running through your arm before he the loud snap of the bones breaking arm. It takes you a moment to come back to yourself as you cry loud sobs pouring from your mouth. He laughs before crying out himself as he goes flying from your body. Trying to pull yourself together you try to move but because of the pain in your body you watch as a man runs into the alley and leans down next to you.

"That looks bad. Let me help you."

Reaching for your broken arm you try to cower away from him not wanting him to move it. He barley touches your arm before he is being thrown back from you. You hear a scuffle and few shouted words before silence follows the fighting. Panic welling up in your chest once more you try to crawl away from who you assumed was the attacker.

"Don't move you only hurt yourself more."

Recognizing the voice as the man who came to your rescue. Relaxing as much as you can he helps you sit up being as careful as he can as you hiss in pain. Squinting your eyes at him he gently take hold of your arm holding it carefully as he raises and random stick in the air. Confused you go to scoot away from him but you hiss in pain when your arm moves.

"Hold still this will be quick for the most part."

He shifts a little getting his footing right so he is more steady and say's a few words you don't quiet understand, and just like that right before your very eyes a light appears quickly at the end of the stick, or wand as you should say, glows brightly. You feel a slight pain in your arm as you watch the broken bones beneath your skin fix itself. Eye open wide you look up at him in awe. You had never seen such a thing in your life.

It was terrifying, yet so beautiful.

Staring at him with a gaping mouth you watch him stand to his full height, slouch a little as he reaches down a hand to help you up. You stare at his outstretched hand a little scared to grab it.

"I promise I won't hurt you."

With shaking hand you place in his as he proceeds to pull you up off the ground you stare at him for a long while before realizing he was the man from the bus ride earlier, what a weird coincidence. Letting go of your hand he leaves you standing there as he looks around the area. Anger crosses his face.

"Damn it!"

Flinching at the loud yell he looks back at you seeing you shaking. Letting out a heavy sigh he walk towards you slowly reaching out a hand to you.

"Come on lets get you somewhere safe."

That’s right I went and left it there after not posting for this in about a year or two. I’m just finally glad I did though

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elderkale · 4 years ago

Text

chapter six

tell me we’ll never get used to it - chapter six

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Theta missed the ball on the last bounce. She twisted around to watch as it went over her shoulder and into the corner. She stared at it for a moment then sighed and got to her feet.

She brushed the dust clinging to the rubber surface off and wrinkled her nose. It was something new to look at, at least.

She glanced over her shoulder. The empty whiteboard stared accusingly back at her.

Well. Almost empty.

She flung the ball at it again. It knocked off a magnet before bouncing off in the other direction. A photograph fluttered loose and slid across the floor, finally coming to a stop under the toe of Theta’s boot.

Annie Hopkins. That had been her name, the girl on the wall. Her mother had confirmed it.

She grimaced as she crouched to pick it up, and shuddered when her nails scraped against the plasticky surface of the photo paper.

She tossed the picture onto her desk and snatched up a scrap sheet of paper (at least, she hoped it was scrap). She wandered around the desk in a circle, tilting her head up to stare at the ceiling.

Had it taken her this long, before, to figure things out?

She threw herself into her seat. It jolted and she kicked the desk, sending herself spinning across the room. Her elbow slammed into the wall with a bang and she winced. The chair squeaked in protest.

No, it hadn’t. At least, she didn’t think so. It was hard to remember. Hard to put into perspective, at least. Time was fickle like that.

She balled up the paper in her hands and tossed it between her hands. Everyone has off days, she reasoned. Nothing to be ashamed of. She clenched the ball tighter in her hands and kicked off the wall, spinning back towards her desk.

She grabbed it with her free hand as she passed, dragging herself to a stop.

Off days. That’s what this was, then. An off day. Off month. Months, if you would (she wouldn’t).

Of course, most peoples’ off days didn’t involve giving funeral homes more business.

She tossed her rudimentary ball at the board. It more flopped than bounced off, crinkling as it drifted to the ground. She sighed and tossed her feet onto her desk.

It hadn’t taken her this long before. That, she was certain of.

So why the hell was it taking her this long now?

She could hardly be out of practice. That just wasn’t something that happened. Not like this, not with her. She scowled and snatched the marker pen off the table, twisting its cap on and snapping it back on again. Pop, click, pop, click, squeak, click, pop.

She bit down on the end of the cap and twirled the pen between her fingers. There was, she admitted to herself with a small grimace, always the possibility of the copycat being better than her. Small, though. Very small. Miniscule, even, if you liked the word, which she did. Not one that she was willing to entertain, though.

He wasn’t. Not the type.

It was stifling. She tugged her jacket off and tossed it to the side of the room.

Motive. There was always motive. Even when the motive was nothing, there was always a reason. She knew that better than anyone.

Chewing gum too loud. Unfortunate resemblance to an old enemy. Stupid hair.

Convenience.

Who, her? Projecting? Pshaw.

It could, suggested a small, traitorous voice at the corner of her mind sounding suspiciously like a certain bearded psychiatrist, be that, though, couldn’t it? Maybe, it suggested. Maybe. Just maybe. Maybe you’re sympathetic? Empathetic, even? Could that be possible? Maybe you don’t want to catch him. Maybe you’re on his side, just a bit, or maybe you’re worried about what comes next, or that—

She threw the marker at the board. It left a streak of black in its wake and rolled away to join the ball.

What had she done before?

The subconscious was a funny thing.

She slid off her seat and flopped to the ground. She quinted up at the ceiling, a frown tugging at her eyebrows.

She’d talked to people, she was fairly sure. Nothing door-to-door, but she had. Watched interrogations from behind the glass. Joined in, sometimes (very sometimes) (as in once).

She grimaced and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until she felt like they were going to burst.

Not mainly, though. Nothing as inactive as that.

No.

It must have been her second year, or maybe late in her first. Before her third, for sure. Between August and November, maybe?

Disembowelment. That, she remembered. Disembowelment. Disembowelment and bone-robbing, which hadn’t been a term before that day, and for good reason, too.

A doctor, John had said. A surgeon, Mike had corrected. A fucking sicko, Owen had grumbled. That doesn’t help, Jack had snapped.

(And that’s the thing: how do you know? How do they—how does she—fit so perfectly into the mold, this archetype, this machine, and how do they make it work?

And here’s the other thing: it doesn’t always have to be that complicated.)

Anyone who’s ever cooked a chicken can figure out how to break out a spine. Anyone with half a brain can figure out how to use a knife. But who’s going to need that many bones?

Ah. There’s the question.

It wasn’t the sort of question to be answered in an office, or at home, or in front of a board. It wasn’t the sort of question to be answered, period.

(The term ‘liquid courage’ truly wasn’t any sort of exaggeration. It had burned going down, and had burned coming up again the next morning, but, in the moment, head spinning, blood rushing, heart beating like the drums of war, she’d felt weightless, and weightless she’d stayed.)

The femur, she’d remembered, somewhat hazily, hands buried in dying, withered heat. The tear of skin and a crack like splitting wood—

Wood.

There’s the answer.

(The chairs really hadn’t been too comfortable, though she supposed they fit a certain aesthetic. Theta had left it to Jack to suggest burying the furniture to the families.)

Her phone rang and she all but dove for it, sending papers flying. “She’s a bitch,” said Martha before it had even finished ringing.

“What?”

She heard a shuffling on the other end of the line. Her phone buzzed against her ear. “Messages,” said Martha bitterly.

Theta flicked the call to speaker and dropped the phone on the desk, leaning over it and squinting down at the screen.

Her stomach turned.

“Just a gossip column, but Jack’s losing it,” Martha informed her. Her voice sounded oddly thin over the speakers, like she was whispering into a tin can. Or was that just her?

Theta waited for her to say something else. “Did you read it?” she asked when she didn’t.

“No.” Lie. Theta pursed her lips and flicked her finger up the screen. The words whipped by in a blur of black on shocking pink, like ants smudged across a page. What she did catch made her nauseous. “Any luck, it’ll be down soon.”

“Won’t be,” Theta grumbled, grimacing and pinching the bridge of her nose. Her head was pounding. “Free press.”

Martha made a concerting noise over the line. “Ask Jake to hack it?” she suggested.

Theta shook her head, then remembered that Martha couldn’t see her. “Nah,” she said lightly. “Nah,” she repeated. Her tongue felt like sandpaper.

“Fine.” Martha didn’t sound upset, Theta didn’t think. And then she wondered why she thought she would be. “You alright?”

“Hm.” Her fingertips were tingling, buzzing with something that wasn’t quite warmth, but couldn’t reasonably be called anything else, either. “Yeah,” she forced herself to say, biting out a tight grin, despite the fact that Martha couldn’t see her. “Yep. Right.”

She hung up and threw her phone across the desk. Her hands shook when she flexed them, palms stinging with pins and needles.

Fuck.

Really, Theta didn’t know why she was so surprised. After all, it had only been a matter of time.

Cases dragged on. It happened. It wasn’t like there was much they could do about it. Asking nicely never seemed to help.

(Theta had been asked to give an interview, once. It had gone horribly, and she was fairly certain that, had the microphone not been mysteriously unplugged, it would have been a disaster.)

She drummed her fist against the table, staring at her screen. The computer had switched itself off ages ago, but she didn’t need to see the article to quote it.

Scandalous, the writer (Claire Rook, her name had been Claire Rook. Like a side character in a children’s adventure novel.) had said. Well, if you were looking for it, maybe.

She squeezed her eyes shut and dragged her hands down her face, elbows grinding against the desk.

It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t. They’d all been dragged by the press at some point or another (Some more than others; Martha had a Google Alert set up for Jack, and Mickey had taken out subscriptions to at least three tabloids. He didn’t seem to mind—rather, he seemed to thrive on the attention).

It was a gossip rag. A gossip rag that had clearly stolen pictures from The Guardian. They were running hentai ads alongside the front page, for God’s sake.

A gossip rag that had gotten ahold of her school records what the fuck.

She hit the space bar and the screen blinked back to life.

913 hits, because this was the kind of website that counted hits. One each for Jack, Martha, and Mickey, and another nine for her. 901, then.

She leaned back in her seat, squeezing her eyes shut.

Troubled past. She scoffed. The whole thing was one badly-Photoshopped cover from being a supermarket pulp novel.

I’m not angry.

What word would you prefer?

She opened her eyes a crack and peered at the screen.

915. Fuck her.

She could, she supposed, call Koschei, if only to let him know.

Koschei.

Koschei, who had been in the article too.

There is reason to call into question the ethics of the investigation, especially when considering the presence of famed psychiatrist Koschei Oakdown in the lives of the senior investigators—

Famed. She scoffed. She could almost see Koschei’s head swelling. Hardly the word she’d use. Inobscure, maybe.

—a hidden past shared with the notorious Theta Lungbarrow herself—

She gagged and slammed the laptop shut.

Her legs were itching. She leapt to her feet and began pacing.

Bullshit. Bullshit smeared across a server and tagged as news. She scoffed and dragged her fingers over her scalp. A strand of hair got caught beneath a nail and she shuddered as she tugged it free.

Abruptly, she threw herself to the ground, then got up again, then sat back down.

The infamous raid on Satellite and Fifth—

There was hair on the carpet, too, and eraser shavings, and a bit of a broken branch she’d tracked in on her boots. She twisted it beneath her fingers until it snapped, then did it again, and again.

—in the perfect true crime setup, with Lungbarrow set to lead; but as the villain, or the hero?

She snorted, brushing her hands clean on her knees. It was almost—no, it was—laughable.

Her keys were still in her pocket. She supposed she’d forgotten to take them out.

She dragged her fingers through her hair again. Her scalp was oily; she hadn’t showered.

She jiggled her leg, heel beating the ground.

It’s the moments in between, Rose used to believe, that are the most important. Nothing planned really happens, she used to tell her. It’s the stuff before and after that decides everything.

Failure drives success. Grief drives rage.

She vaulted to her feet and marched out the door.

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