#want to keep going but am tired and will absolutely ruin it if i go at it tonight
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wip
#madness combat#madcom#the machine#mc the machine#madcom the machine#madness combat the machine#the grand steward#wip#kinda going for that angelic monster look#its a god but its absolutely going to kill you for exisiting#he and the maker are a balancing force#one is kind and fleshy almost human#the other is evil and cold steel and wires#want to keep going but am tired and will absolutely ruin it if i go at it tonight#x scribbles
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Mental health is going downhill, I'm not sure how to handle that right now... The end of the year feels more and more lonely at the days pass.
Cherish your loved ones, make sure they know they count in your life.
#i'm trying so hard to keep myself busy#but it's mentally tiring to have to produce anything to feel like I'm buying my right to exist#without this... why am i even here?#if I'm not producing anything i'm absolutely irrelevant in this world#'it's the anxiety speaking' you bet it is and it's damn right#i have no purpose no one will miss me when my parents are gone#i'm still here because i don't want to ruin their life#what happens when the only people you're relevant to disappear?#i'm taking up space and ressources that could go to someone else#would therapy help? to learn to lie to myself into thinking 'we all deserve to live'?#live for what exactly? be a waste of space? be so deeply useless?#if i disappeared right now my job would replace me my pets would go to my parents#and that's it#that's everything my life is made of#and it's no one's fault#but maybe we're not all made to live
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Tired of being a cantankerous and melancholic guy. I wish choosing kindness and positivity would come easier to me. Everyday I work at it and it feels like customer service and it makes me very tired but I will persist and someday it will be natural.
#the rage of a wild animal that wants to absolutely fucking destroy lives in my heart#and every day small things piss me off and I have to resist the urge to snap over them#and every day I get overstimulated much easier#and it’s like I am being slowly pushed towards the edge and I am about to break and I have to resist that#every single fucking day#and I keep choosing kindness and compassion and positivity because that’s the right thing to do#and it’s no one’s fault but mine that I am so full of anger#and I am not going to let me ruin good things over nothing#but oooooo I want to bite I want to maim I want to snap I want to snap I want to break something so fuckig bad#I hate customer service I hate working with the public i hate answer phone call check person out answer question run program help the public#and I hate extend common courtesy to people who won’t do it in return and I hate compromising#the thing is hate is such an exaggeration under normal circumstances when I’m not stressed it doesn’t bother me at all#it’s just that this year has been really fucking hard and I am at my wits end and I feel under appreciated and people are constantly#pissing me off with tiny annoying things and it’s all building up#I love my job and my friends and even my family and I want to be a kind happy positive excited person I just can’t stop feeling this anger#I wake up overstimulated.#I’m tired.#and I’m tired of people being mean to me#and I know you have to meet mean with kindness I can’t sink to their level but HOOOOOOO#FUCK!#anyways#delete later#L writes#rant tw
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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2AM CRISIS
genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...
“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.
You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.
“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you.
He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.
Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.
You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea.
You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.
“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.
“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.
The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am.
“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowing down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart.
“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.
“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.
Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit.
You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.
Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”
↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,
@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone
#fics ❀˖°#k-labels#yujin#han yujin#zerobaseone#zb1#zerobaseone x reader#zb1 x reader#zb1 yujin#zerobaseone yujin#yujin x reader#han yujin x reader#yujin fluff#yujin fic#han yujin fluff#han yujin fic#zerobaseone fluff#zerobaseone fic#zb1 fluff#zb1 fic#zb1 yujin x reader#kpop imagines#zerobaseone imagines#zb1 imagines
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Thirteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Ghost is getting careless, Ghost is sick and tired of the way you make him go off script, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+ [ani wears a vulvodynia tshirt, this song is so vader coded; enjoy]
DATE
1:27 am August 29th
After the initial shock of Ghost’s demands, you quickly realized he was serious in his request. He lunged at you, just to spook you into running because you’d stood frozen like a deer in the headlights.
If only you could’ve seen the absolutely feral grin on his face. His little doe had fawned.
You swung open the bedroom door and shut it behind you, instinctively holding onto the doorknob and using your body as a counterweight to keep the door shut while Ghost laughed and barely tugged at it. Each quick pull made you jolt forward and only proved further how scared you really should be, knowing he was pulling the door open with your full weight on it with just one arm.
If he was serious, really, truly, serious. You wouldn’t have a chance, he’d demolish you in minutes.
You made a decision and made it quickly that your best bet would be to run to the living room and loop around, back to the bedroom and lock him out. At least there was a window in there you could probably climb out of if you actually needed to. The bathroom would just be a death trap.
You hoped that if you let go just as he was opening the door he might stumble, so you tried exactly that. It didn’t work the way you planned, but it did give you a second or two advantage. Though he quickly made up the time after he recovered from pulling the door into his shoulder at full force.
“Ow.” He gritted through his teeth, flipping out the decorative butterfly knife in his right hand, rolling his shoulders back as his towering frame strode across the small living space toward you.
“Ghost what the hell are you doing?” You squealed, grabbing the nearest book to you on your shelf, a paperback romance novel, and chucked it at him.
“Oh no.” He gasped, knocking the book away from him, his gloved hand flying to the gaping maw of his mask. “You gave me a paper cut.”
He twirled his your knife and lunged forward to grab your arm.
“I just want to have some fun, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching you wiggle and squirm to get away from his firm one-handed grip. With a quick motion and a rip of fabric he sliced a hole in the side of Anakin’s t-shirt he’d made you wear.
“Oh my god! What- you could’ve cut me!” You screeched, smacking at his arm with your free hand.
“If I wanted to I would’ve.” He growled, letting go of your wrist and allowing you to stumble backwards.
“I don’t know what I did to make you mad but I’m sorry!” Your voice shook as you backed away from him, scrambling back toward the bookshelf.
“Doe, you didn’t make me angry.” He said, his filtered voice oddly soothing in comparison to the way he was aggressively closing in on you. “You made me hard.”
“And now I’m gonna fuck you like I should’ve out in that dirty alleyway.” He gritted out.
“You ruined it for me you know?” He grumbled kicking the paperback weapon from earlier out of his way.
“What?” You squeaked, “What do you mean? I thought-“
“Yeah, you thought.” He snarled, reaching forward to grab you by the front of your shirt. “That’s the problem.”
“I wanted-“ He huffed when you jolted away from him and grabbed a slightly heavier book off the shelf to hit him with. “Do it. See what happens.” He barked.
He produced a second knife from seemingly thin air, one second his left hand was empty and the next the silver flash of the blade caught your eye. You panicked, two sharpened blades in the hands of a madman did not bode well for your very near future. Choosing purely out of instinct you swung the book at him, hoping to hit him square in the face.
You were too slow, or maybe he was just too fast. Either way, the book connected with the knife in his left hand instead of hitting the mark you’d set out for. He snickered, seeing your frustration and surprise at having speared your own belonging on his blade, your expression quickly fading to a blank-pale faced shock.
His hand shot out in continuance of the fluid sideways stabbing motion. His knife, along with your book, sunk into the wall, getting pinned there until further notice. The drywall cracking from the force of the side of his fist driving in the blade as easily as a pushpin.
“Now, as I was saying,” he sighed, clapping the drywall dust from his leather gloves. He moved quickly to grab you by the hair and drag you to the couch. “You thought, and that ruined my fun.”
“I wanted to pin you down on the nasty pavement and fuck you hard like the useless cocksleeve that you are,” his teeth clenched tightly. “but no. You had to be you, didn’t even give me the chance to offer you a safe word.”
“You’re such a slut that you just let me do it with no fight.” He snorted. “You let me drag you down a dark alley and fuck you. You wanted it so bad you hardly questioned it at all.”
“If I wanted to fuck you nice and slow, if I wanted to give you a choice, real or not... I would’ve done it in that cozy little love nest.” He said angrily, turning your head in the direction of your bedroom and pointing with his rose handled blade.
“See, I’ve got this thing,” he grunted, stabbing his knife into the couch cushion and locking the handles in a fixed position so he use both hands. “you’ve probably heard of it.”
You wiggled and squirmed against his firm grip on your hair, each strand felt like it was ripping from your skull. You reached back and elbowed him in the ribs, making him take a sharp inhale.
“You stupid bitch.” He snapped, spinning you around and grabbing you right beneath your jaw. He squeezed tightly, lifting you up so that you were struggling to stand on your tiptoes.
“You gonna be mad if I smack you?” He asked, his voice low and gravely.
“Yes! What the fuck?” You coughed, your hands gripping his wrist in an effort to keep yourself from choking.
“Will you hate me though?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, a slightly more playful tone in his voice like he knew your answer.
You shook your head ‘no’, holding your breath while a fire lit in your lungs, your vision burning black around the edges. Finally he sat you flat on your feet, if you weren’t light headed before, you sure as hell were now. All the blood rushing back to where it belonged cause your body to momentarily malfunction.
Ghost kept you upright, letting you slump against him for a second before encasing the back of your neck in his firm leather grip, pulling you back far enough away from himself to deliver a rough *smack* to your cheek.
Your eyes flew open, suddenly more alert as he shocked your system back into working order. Plunging you back into dizziness when he threw you forward and bent you over the arm of the couch.
“Hey.” He said gruffly, crouching next to you and pushing your hair from your face. “I gave you a safe word.” He reminded you, “I’m not an ass. If you need to use it just say so, I’ll stop.”
“N-no.” You shook your head, your hands coming up to push your chest off the couch.
“No?” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d find me a girl who likes to get raped.”
“What!? I never said-“
“Nope, shut your fucking mouth.” He said quickly. Taking off his belt at cracking it over the backs of your thighs.
“Fuck!” You screamed, crying out into the couch cushions. “What was that for!?”
He snorted, whipping you with the hard and unforgiving leather again. A shiver running through him when you whimpered and squeezed your thighs together.
“I want you to fight me.” He leaned down, his gritty voice rumbling in his chest against his back. “I know you got it in you baby, you’re just as sick as I am. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”
“No! No, I… that’s not something-“
“Before you embarrass yourself further,” he sighed, reaching beneath the boxers you wore, he ran his middle finger up your slit. “feel that?”
He was gloating, enjoying making you squirm uncomfortably from your own desires. Ghost wiped your arousal onto your cheek, leaving a slick trail in its wake that gave away how you really felt.
“My pretty pussy is telling on you Doe.” He chuckled. “Now be a good girl and tell me you got wet at the thought of me raping you on the couch you just fucked your boyfriend on. Tell me you wish you weren’t such a cockslut and desperate for dick so I could’ve raped you up against a fucking brick wall.”
“Ghost…” you whined, wiggling to get away from him, but his full body weight was pinning you in place. “Fine!”
“Fine, okay? Yes!” You grumbled, shooting him a glare over your shoulder as he stood up.
“There we go.” He chuckled, “It’s okay princess, I know you have trouble understanding big words.” He taunted.
“Listening, silence, obeying, submitting.” He cooed, looping his belt around your neck and tugging it like a leash. “Very big words for a very stupid whore.”
He took the knife from the couch cushion and brought the flat side of the cool steel to the burning blush of your cheek, lightly scraping the tip across the apple of your cheek and the delicate skin beneath your eye.
“Getting me a fresh kill of venison for dinner tonight baby.” He chuckled, you envisioned a devilish grin, full lips curved upward.
“Maybe you ought to bite down on this.” He said, smacking you with the tail end of the black leather belt before putting it in your mouth for you. “Hate for you to fuck up those pearly whites.”
He grabbed the collar of your shirt, stabbing the knife through the fabric and ripping a hole down the short sleeve. The blade never came close to your skin but the motion was so quick that you felt a rush of air following behind it that may as well have been just as sharp.
You reached back to smack at his hand, spitting out the leather to scowl and yell at him.
“What is your problem today!? I like this shirt!” You kicked at his shin, connecting your heel to the bone in his leg.
“Goddamnit!” He growled, yanking you up by your leash and holding the tip of the knife to the vulnerable flesh above your Adam’s apple.
“That’s better.” He moaned… he moaned. “Fuck, you feel me Doe?” He asked, pressing his cock of steel against your ass.
You answered with a choked ‘uh huh’, trying not to turn blue in the face from the thick leather necklace he’d given you. He removed the knife and dropped the leash, your hands immediately going to claw at it while you coughed.
“Don’t.” He barked, tugging your hair to get your attention.
“I’ll tell you my ‘problem’.” He growled, using his hands to rip the fabric further, exposing your left shoulder blade.
“My bitch.” He snapped, “fucked her boyfriend on this couch. Right in front of me.”
He brought the knife back down to the fabric and this time he allowed the tip to pierce the skin ever so slightly, letting a bead of blood bubble up on your smooth skin as you cried out in a sharp yelp. Lifting the knife he cut another hole in the shirt, repeating the process until it was less than a rag.
“I’m sorry okay?” You yelled, trying to turn yourself over onto your back, hoping that even if it was an awkward angle that maybe you could get a punch in. If he wanted you to fight, you sure as hell were going to.
“What am I supposed to do? Not fuck him?” You shouted, twisting in his grasp until you were able to push against his chest with one forearm.
“He loves you!” Ghost shouted back and you felt your face fall. “Do you- you love him?” He asked, changing the grip of the knife in his hand to prepare for downward strike.
“Wait! Wait- stop!” You squealed, kicking and squirming away from him.
“Ghost! Stop it. Please!” You whined, your voice getting high pitched and squeaky.
“Tell me.” He barked, dragging you down to the coffee table and forcing you down on it, he kneeled with one knee keeping you pinned there, his other foot firmly on the ground.
“No! I’m not-“ you shouted, thrashing around and landing a solid punch to his stomach. “I won’t tell you that!”
He groaned, the sensitive area of his abdomen felt a dull but consistent throbbing. No time to congratulate you on knocking the wind out of a grown man though, he had to get right back to business.
“You won’t?” He laughed, taking the knife and gliding the flat side over the tender flesh of your inner thigh, quickly jerking his wrist and leaving a thin line of red behind.
You swore you saw him physically shudder at the sight of your blood, you are certain however, that you saw him palm his cock.
“Why don’t you wanna tell me?” He asked, his tone sounding cheeky disguised as menacing.
Ghost ripped through the seam of the boxers you wore, pulling them off and exposing your his pussy for his eyes to feast on.
“It’s not your business!” You snapped back and immediately felt the punishment inflicted on your most sensitive area. His gloved hand smacking your pussy with a wet *clap* that drew a scream from deep within the depths of your chest.
“Like hell it is!” He yelled back, barely controlled rage was beginning to ooze from his eyes behind his mask.
“Do you love him?” He repeated, smacking your clit and sending a sharp jolt from your head to your toes while you gritted your teeth and dug your nails into your palms.
“Fucking whore.” He groaned, looking down at your quivering legs and dripping cunt as a new wave of arousal drenched your pussy.
“You don’t have to tell me you love this.” He grumbled, “I can see it.”
You felt something hard and cool circling your entrance, the temperature contrast causing you to gasp and Ghost took that as the perfect opportunity to slide the twin handles of his knife deep into your cunt. His leather glove encased the sharpness of the blade, but that didn’t stop the streak of pure fear that flooded your senses.
The panic was slowly replaced with a new kind of pleasure, one that was dull and curling. Tugging at the muscles encasing your most intimate organs, as if he were trying to ‘cut’ his way into your womb and stake his claim before Anakin could.
It was embarrassing the way you so quickly switched up your attitude. Formerly angry and mouthy, now your brain was too muddled to feel anything but submissive. Ghost was behind you, filming the filthy act with the flash on, acting as though he might suffer a heart attack before he could make you cum. His filming hand was shaky and his chest was heaving in an uneven rhythm.
“Fuck. You’re- I...” He breathed out, “Gods, what the fuck have you done to me?” He asked in a higher pitched voice that almost dropped out of the voice modification.
“C-can’t even stick to my own plans, y-you just…” he grunted, withdrawing the knife handles, watching your cunt clench around them as if trying to suck them back inside.
“Don’t you move, you hear me?” He barked, kneeing you in the side when you didn’t answer him.
“Ow! Fine!” You snapped back at him, trying to turn your head to look at him behind you when his foot came up and gently flexed forward to push your head back to the side.
“You wanna see what I’m doing?” He asked, not waiting for you to answer as he walked in from of where you laid, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees lazily.
He pinched the knife by the blade between his forefinger, middle and thumb to waggle it in your face. He chuckled at your reaction to seeing your creamy juices coating the handles. He lifted the chin of his mask up slightly, still being careful not to show the slightest sliver of skin as he brought the handles to his lips and sucked them clean. His groan of approval came out distorted, not quite modified, not quite natural.
“Shit.” You whispered, resting your forehead on the cool wood of the coffee table.
“Alright.” He stood up. “Listen, listen good okay?”
You nodded, “Yes Sir.”
“That’s more like it.” He laughed, “Get your ass over there and bend over like I had you before.”
He pointed to the couch with one hand and absentmindedly twirled and flipped the knife in his other while he watched you do as he asked.
“I’m going to do what I want. For as long as I want.” He said plainly. “This isn’t about you. This is about me.”
“Do you understand?” He asked in a tight, clipped sentence.
“Yes Sir.”
“If you want to cum, do it yourself.” He grumbled, “better bite down on that belt baby.”
He stalked over to you and pushed his jeans down around his knees and pulled out his angry red tipped cock. Without hesitation, with no forethought, he plunged himself deep into your cunt and started off with a deep and hard pace. It might’ve been pleasurable had he not decided he’d try to fuck your guts.
He, nor had anyone else, ever pushed so deeply past your folds. Yes he’d kissed your cervix with his cockhead before, so had Anakin. But this? This was beyond that.
In his right hand he gripped your hair, using it as leverage while you futilely tried to stop yourself from jostling around so much by holding onto the backrest of the couch with one hand and the front end with the other.
It was quite useless in Ghost’s opinion, he laughed as he watched you struggle. Each thrust was so forceful that by the end of this brutal punishment you believed he’d have rearranged your living room furniture. The couch scraping across the floor inch by inch.
“Fuck.” He grunted. “I fucking needed this.” He breathed out, his upper body wracked with a shudder as he moaned loudly.
“Perfect little painslut.” Ghost gritted out, you imagined from the way the words left his lips he might need the belt between your teeth more than you did.
“I could fuck this hole- fuck it till it’s raw and sore and bleeding.” He groaned, “And even then, I wouldn’t be finished with you.”
“Shit-“ he gasped, leaning forward he put you in a headlock, his muscles constricted around your throat.
Ghost rested his forehead against the back of your head, looking down your curved back to see your ass rippling with each slap of skin on skin.
“Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside you,” Ghost’s hips stuttered. “so damn deep that stupid little pill will be useless.” He barked out the last part, the true aggression in his voice sent a shiver through you that made a cold sweat break out on the back of your neck.
“Hmph… oh damnit.” He shuddered, slowing down for just a moment to savor the high he felt from feeling your cunt milking him dry.
“You keep moaning like that and your boy across the hall will hear you.” He chuckled, releasing you from the headlock and pushing down on the small of your back to keep you in place, hearing the swish and click of him closing the rose handled knife, feeling it pressed against your hip bone as he held on.
“S-slow please.” You choked out while drooling down the belt between your teeth, feeling as though he might split you in half if he carried on this way.
“I told you to lay here and take it didn’t I?” He grunted, smacking your ass punishment.
“My pussy. My rules.” He barked.
“W-what?” You moaned out, trying to focus your mind on those words, rather than the way he sped up and stole your breath.
“Christ, you’re stupid.” he muttered to himself.
“Shut up, I don’t want to hear you speak unless it’s your safe word.” He growled, shoving your head down into the couch cushions.
Using quick shallow strokes he leaned back to change the angle slightly, making him choke out a half sob at the way your cunt gripped him. His hand left your hip again to flick out the knife blade and drag the cold steel down your spine. He stopped halfway and veered off to the left, digging the sharpened edge of the blade into the thin skin stretched over your ribs.
“Holy-“ you chomped down on the leather belt in your mouth so hard that it squeaked.
“So fuckin’ pretty.” He breathed out, for the first time quiet enough that his modifier didn’t catch it… and neither did you.
“You liked that didn’t you?” His chest rumbling as he spoke. “I felt you squeezing me.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he thinly smeared the blood in a line across your back with the flat side of the blade until he found a suitable spot for a slight nick that had you jolting in surprise.
“Nasty girl.” He chuckled, “you like being fucked dumb and sliced up?”
“Uh huh.” You whimpered, gripping the couch cushions while Ghost leaned back to watch his cock plunging hard and fast into your pussy.
Creamy white cum and your slick coated the base of his cock, he desperately tried to hold himself back from another orgasm but it was damn near impossible when you had just openly admitted to liking his blade on your skin.
Your right ass cheek seemed the best place to cut next, he wanted to feel the warmth of your life dripping from the wound and down his thigh. He wanted to stain his body red in hopes of forming a blood bond, could he convince you to try that?
A surprisingly throaty moan left your lips and tumbled out in a long release of breath, his blade carving a diagonal line that leaked deep ichor down your beautiful skin. The sight of it being smeared and splattered with each piston of his hips had him buckling at the knees.
“Oh my-“ Ghost moaned, his knife clattering to the floor as he grabbed both your hips, purposely spreading the gorgeous red liquid across your skin as he went. “Didn’t think you could get any prettier.” He whispered in a hoarse voice.
He tightened his grip and listened to the squelch and slap of his cock bullying your insides, to the sweet sounds leaving your lips. He basked in the warm drip of your blood and the feeling of your pussy wrapped lovingly around him.
It was all so much. Too much.
With a few more brutal thrusts he came hard, his breath being stolen from his lungs as he shot his load into your depths.
“Fuck yes.” He gritted out, needing some kind of extra outlet for the intense adrenaline and endorphin rush he was experiencing, he punched the wall beside him without a second thought, denting the dry wall and smearing blood. “Hell fuckin’ yes baby.”
“Ghost!” You gasped and flinched at the *crack* of his fist making contact with the wall, “Can you ju-“
“Face down and close your fucking eyes,” he growled, shoving his cock back in his pants and tugging his jeans up. He saw you begin to part your lips and he interrupted. “that wasn’t a question goddamnit!”
You obeyed, closing your eyes and pressing your face into the couch cushions, hearing rustling coming from behind you. Ghost tossed his mask on the coffee table and took off his sweatshirt and tshirt, scrunching the shirt to create a makeshift blindfold, there was no time to go to your room and get the nice pretty silk handkerchief he’d bought for this purpose exactly. He needed this now.
He slipped it over you head and tightened it, then you felt the weight of his body push down on the couch cushion beside you, his still-gloved hands grabbing you by the shoulders and manhandling you over to sit sideways in his lap.
“What are- oh my god.” You gasped quietly feeling his bare skin for the first time, leather gloves guided you out of what was left of your shirt.
“Gh-“ You wanted to know why. Why was he doing this? Why now? But he shut you up by pulling you flush against his chest and descending upon your mouth.
He kissed you like his life depended on it. He kissed you like death when he lifts your soul from your lips. Ghost kissed you like you were the one who was consuming him. It was messy, desperate, and horribly quiet. The only noises being that of your lips and tongue clashing together and the sound of your mixed heavy breathing.
He was maskless. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t even want to let loose a single moan. So you did, you made enough noise for the both of you. Breathless gasps and whiny ‘mhhhhmm’s pierced his skull and wormed their way into his brain to take up permanent residency.
He had a tongue piercing… unexpected but definitely not unwanted. The metallic clicking was hypnotic in a way, tongues dueling carelessly between the two of you, so eager to taste more, to feel more. You know now that the strange, smooth thing that had accompanied his tongue while he had licked at your folds to wake you up, was the same jewelry that ran across the roof of your mouth while you felt up every square inch of bare skin on his body.
You never imagined that flesh could be such a sexy thing. Of course, it’s nice to look at on the body of someone you’re attracted to. Though feeling the flesh of a man who’d deprived you of seeing it, touching it; it was better than any drug on the market. With your brain fuzzy and addled with repeating thoughts of Ghost, he only made it worse by bringing your hand down to feel his half hard cock.
He had explored you in endless ways, countless times and now he was finally giving you the opportunity to do just alittle bit of the same for him. It didn’t last long however. Soon enough he was back to the domineering presence you’d come to know.
Slower this time, more carefully, he laid you back down on your stomach on the couch. Ghost pulled both your palms up to your ears to encourage you to create a sound barrier between you and whatever it was that he was about to do.
His tender lips caressing your back in feathery kisses, gentle and loving in a way you’d never received from Ghost before. His lips then made their way to your still trickling wounds, licking up the blood around the nick mark, a simple and tiny cut that was easily cleaned up. The longer, deeper wound across your ribs prompted him to get down on his knees in front of the couch.
Ghost leaned forward and licked the length of the bloody split in your flesh. A deep, rumbling moan left his unashamed lips. He was so unashamed in fact, that he found himself instantly rock hard again.
That just wouldn’t do. This is about him after all.
So he pulled himself free once more and spit a mixture of your blood and his saliva into his glove, setting to work on his throbbing and greedy cock. As he pumped his shaft his lips sucked and pulled at the wounded skin on your side, draining it of blood only to pull back and watch the pretty red reappear.
“That stings!” you whined as you pushed his head away.
A puff of air from his nose was your only response before he swatted your hand away and returned it to your ear. He did listen though, choosing to gently lap it up until the flow stopped almost completely.
Languidly stroking himself he held his breath for a moment, afraid he might let out a whimper more embarrassing than he ever had before. He moved behind you once more and licked up the blood from the last cut he’d made. He lapped up the last trickles of blood from your soft skin and kneeled behind you. Tapping your hip he signaled you to arch your back and lift up so he could get a better view of your poor abused cunt.
The pink and puffy folds looked even more enticing as he spit a fat glob of your bloody mixture at your center.
“Can’t… Ghost please.” You whined, your body sore and aching from overuse. “No more, I can’t.”
There was no verbal answer. Ghost ignored your pleas and left them unpunished, repositioning himself at your sopping wet hole. He easily slid in, letting out a shaky breath at the feel of your heated gummy walls. Slowly he rocked his hips into you, gently as though he were trying to soothe you after all the rough treatment.
You let yourself relax and accept his tender touches and unspoken apology. You were shaking from exhaustion, your mind too blank to do anything other than breathe and feel the pleasure of his cock moving inside you. With your ears still covered Ghost took the opportunity to tell you something that he’d been terrified of doing.
“My little doe.” He whispered as quietly as he could, “It’s me. It’s Anakin.”
Diary Entry: August 29th
Honestly doll. I don’t know how you survived yesterday, if my dick hurts… I can only imagine how your poor little pussy feels.
You handled it so well. Taking inch after inch, over and over again for me. All. Damn. Day.
The best part? You loved every second of it just as much as I knew you would. You loved the rough way I fucked you as myself. The loving way I made you mine.
But the way you took Ghost… after tucking away that little piece of Anakin that lives in him, (the bit that won’t fucking stick to the goddamn plan because you’re so… there’s not even a word for it. You know what I mean though.) I got to do what I needed.
Damn I desperately needed it. Don’t get me wrong little doe, I love regular sex with you. You know, the normal kind of kinky. A bit of hair pulling, some spanking, a little spit, the baby steps to the bigger shit.
The kind of kinky last night is the kind of shit that would get me committed if my mother found out about it. But is it really my fault that you’re so fuckable? No. It’s not. It’s not my fault that your pussy just so happens to fit the handles of my knife. It’s not my fault that you liked it either.
You can’t even be mad, so don’t go pretending you are next time I see you as Ghost. You can’t be mad because you leaked that sweet pussy nectar down my cock for two hours and 13 minutes, last night. Never heard the safe word and I’m not convinced that I will ever hear it.
You freaky bitch.
If I wasn’t already as depraved as I am, I’d be a bit concerned. You really tried your best to fight me, you tried your best to listen, you put in the effort. But your tiny little brain can only handle so much cock before it turns to mush. That’s my favorite, when I feel you start to relax, feel your breath change, see those pretty eyes go hazy. My perfect sex doll.
I like it when you go limp.
You know what I really liked about last night? I could feel the exact moment that I pushed you past a ledge you’d never even seen coming on the horizons of your imagination. You started to *shake*. You were limp and shaking beneath me, so exhausted you couldn’t muster up the strength to hold yourself up anymore. So drained that you couldn’t even moan correctly anymore.
And you still let me keep fucking you.
I can officially say that I have fucked you awake, I have fucked you in your sleep and I have fucked you to sleep.
I joked about it as myself with you, made you take your meds early and everything, I held you in my arms and let you wean yourself off my fingers and fall into dreamland.
But Ghost was relentless in his efforts to make you go unconscious via dick. I decided I earned a little treat for that. I haven’t decided what it will be yet but I’ll make it good. How many men can say that they’ve lovingly fucked someone into unconsciousness?
Oh! Just me? Nice.
So, you know I love the way your pussy tastes, but let me tell you something I never thought would leave my lips. I found something that is almost a tie for first place.
You bleed so beautifully. It’s truly a spectacle to behold, the crimson just compliments your skin so well. Next time… I’m taking off my gloves. I need to feel it in my hands, that slippery warmth that gives you the radiant life you live. That’s the closest I’ll ever get to holding your soul.
The coppery sweetness was more delicious that the finest wine that money can buy. I don’t give a shit if it’s got notes of birchwood and bullshit. Nothing can compare.
I get it now, the whole thing with people thinking vampires are sexy. What could be hotter than draining the life flowing through the veins of the one you love? What could top that ego boost from the trust you placed in me when I put that blade against your skin? I held the key to your existence in that moment, you’d be gone if I had stuck the blade in and twisted it to unlock death’s door.
But let’s not even think of that, I’d die before I ever let you.
Let’s focus on how rude it is that our blood types are not the same. I would’ve signed myself up for phlebotomy schooling if we shared blood types. Give myself a weekly transfusion. Humane and more socially acceptable vampirism.
Oh well, I prefer to taste it anyway.
It’s like a savory type of chocolate. You know those molten lava cakes? That’s what it’s like to cut into you and have a bite.
P.s. It was so fucking cute how you reacted to my bare skin and kisses. I used to be the one on the verge of collapse at every slight touch, seems like we’ve switched places.
P.p.s. I will be replacing your book and fixing your walls. I’m not sure what came over me when I punched the wall, that was like very uncalled for. Oops.
DATE
August 29th
When you awoke after your night of… activities, you were sore and tired in a way you hadn’t ever been before. Like the will to stand on your own two feet had been forcibly taken from you. As much as you wanted to get up and be productive, the ache between your legs refused to allow you any relief from the discomfort you felt. You needed to go to the hardware store and find something to fix the walls before Anakin came over later.
It would be difficult enough to come up with a cover story for the cuts across your back, but impossible to give a reason for the cracked drywall and the knife blade shaped slit in the opposite side. Once you finally gathered up enough determination to brave the wobble of your knees you stood up and exited your bedroom.
Ghost was too busy chatting, flicking the end of Boogie’s tail while he waited for your coffee to brew, to notice you’d waddled out of your bed to go to the bathroom. You could barely make out the faint white of his mask in the dim, curtain-blocked, morning light of the kitchenette, out of instinct you flipped the light switch and screeched in surprise.
You’d truly thought you might’ve just imagined him standing there and were shocked to realize he was flesh and bone. A flash of pale skin and black ink disappeared behind the counter top and re-emerged covered in leather. He had taken off one of his gloves to give Boogie some good morning pet-pets.
“Sorry doe.” He said apologetically, “I didn’t mean to spook you.”
“What are you doing?” You asked, your hand still resting on the light switch.
“Having a philosophical meeting of the minds.” He said, tapping Boogie on top of her head.
You scowled, “Anakin will kill you if he comes here and sees you. He has a key you know.”
“He won’t kill me.” Ghost chuckled, “He’s got a key? Nifty, so do I!” He added sarcastically.
“You didn’t really answer my question. Why are you still here?” You asked, eyes searching the room for anything out of order.
“Mmm yeah, that’s not what you asked me.” He chuckled, pulling open your silverware drawer and grabbing a spoon. “I’m not still here. I came back.” He answered as he scooped an unhealthy amount of sugar into your hello kitty mug.
“Okay… but why?” You held your hand palm up in questioning.
“I have important business to attend to.” He shrugged, pouring your coffee for you and stirring it into the sugar.
You pursed your lips but didn’t argue back, your eyes flicked back down to his now covered hand and back up to his face before turning to finish your initial quest.
“Where ya going baby?” He asked, staying behind the counter with his hands in his pockets.
“I have to pee.” You mumbled.
“M’kay.” His filtered voice rumbled as he turned to stop the microwave from dinging to signal your brown sugar oatmeal was finished cooking.
He did not however catch your cinnamon swirl toast in time and the shrill noise the appliance made sent the cat scrambling off the counter and knocking a few miscellaneous items into the floor. He stooped down and picked them up, placing them back on the counter top.
After your food was ready he sat it at the bar for you to sit and eat at while he got to work on setting out the supplies he’d bought to fix the walls and clean the couch. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door with two knuckles.
“Hey, you have some gloves in there don’t you? Like for when you dye your hair?” He asked, having realized it would probably be difficult to spackle the walls in leather gloves.
“Yes?” You responded confusedly.
“Good, open the door.”
“What? No!” You scoffed, standing naked and preparing to hop in the shower.
“Doe just open the damn door.” He grumbled, listening to you rustle around behind the locked door.
“Here.” You huffed, opening it just a crack and thrusting your hand out to drop the gloves into his.
“Thanks. You should hurry, I made you breakfast.” He said in an oddly warm tone.
“You did?” You asked, opening the door just a bit more to look at him.
“Yeah. I know you well enough to know you planned on going straight to that couch and not moving until forced to.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I also know you well enough that I called in sick for you today.”
You stared at him for a minute, he called your work for you? That means someone at your work must’ve heard his real voice right? A bubble of jealousy formed in your gut at the thought that one of your coworkers heard Ghost’s voice before you did.
“What?” He asked sharply.
“Nothing… thank you.” You shook your head, eyes wide as you contemplated calling the diner to ask if they recognized the voice.
You mulled it over while you were in the shower, weighed the pros and cons while dressing yourself in some lounge clothes, and thoroughly pondered it as you ate your breakfast and watched Ghost work.
It was comical to see him being so domestic, kind of like seeing a documentary about a wolf pup raised as a house pet. It could snap and destroy the house, destroy you at any moment. Just like Ghost.
But there he was, Fixing his mistake in the most calm and collected way possible. It was a soothing process to watch, score the damaged drywall with an exacto knife, break it off in a clean, straight line with a satisfying snap. Cut the mesh to cover the now smooth edged square of missing drywall, **zzzzrrip** the weirdly thin and fabric-y tape to hold it in place. Then came the best part, watching him patch it over with pink spackle, smooth it out as best he could then watch it turn from pink to greyish white as it dried.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” You asked, sipping your coffee and staring at his hands. The thin blue latex was almost stretched enough to make out the blob of the tattoo you’d caught sight of earlier.
“Summer job as a teenager.” He answer shortly, it’s not like he could give specifics. He’d spoken of his handyman work with his god-father to you before.
“So you don’t work in construction or something like currently?” You asked, trying to cross out a few ‘maybe’ identities of people tall enough and lean enough to fit Ghost’s build.
“No.” He snorted and looked over at you, his knowing smile might as well have been visible from the body language.
“Don’t give me that look.” You huffed, “I’m narrowing down my list.”
“I know you are.” He laughed. “That’s why it’s funny.”
“Well I know you don’t work in construction and you have a hand tattoo…” You crossed your arms and scrunched up your nose to accompany a sassy head bobble.
You’d caught his attention, he turned to fully face you, one arm across his chest and the other’s elbow resting on his fist as he held the putty knife covered in spackle away from his body.
“Hand tattoo?” He repeated in low accusatory way.
“Yeah, you have one.” You pointed toward the hand he held the putty knife in.
“What is it?” He asked, walking a few steps forward.
“I don’t know I just saw a blur of it earlier this morning.” You said, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.
He stood and stared, studying your expression and seeking the truth. After finding no evidence of deceit he nodded and turned back to resume his work on the wall. Every so often you caught him taking a peek over his shoulder at you, like he was suspicious after hearing you’d seen a part of him he hadn’t willingly shown you.
“Are you mad?” You asked anxiously, his whole demeanor had changed so quickly that it was a bit frightening and not in a good way.
“No.” The word was clipped and gruff as he cleaned up his tool and put the lid on the small bucket of spackle.
He walked back to the other wall and sanded the, now dry, patch until it was smooth enough to paint over and blend into the wall as if nothing had happened. You walked over and had planned to sit down on the couch but you realized it covered in some kind of weird clumpy power and damp to the touch.
“Gross, what is this?” You whipped your head around to ask Ghost.
“OxyClean and dish soap.”
“Why?”
“You bled all over the couch.” He responded, you hadn’t seen any blood spots, but there were definitely wet patches where he’d scrubbed the upholstery. He’d also… super glued the knife slash in the fabric back together, how very him of him.
“Okay but like why is it still on the couch?” You asked curiously.
“It needed to sit for longer.” He huffed like he was irritated with your questions.
“Oh, well I can finish it then.” You offered, hoping it might appease him.
“No, I started it. I will finish it.” He kept his words clipped, not hiding that he wasn’t interested in speaking to you right now.
“Okay then.” You snapped back at him, turning on your heel and stomping back to your bedroom and slamming the door shut.
The sharp noise startled Ghost and he whipped his head around instinctively. His jaw clenched tightly, upset with himself for being upset with himself. He didn’t mean to be an ass either, he just needed some time to accept that he’d fucked up and almost exposed his identity because he wanted to pet the fucking cat.
He groaned and turned back around, pounding lightly on his forehead of his mask with both fists in frustration. Bending down to pick up his cup but knocking it over and spilling what was left in it.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?“ he growled and gritted his teeth “damnit!”
Lucky for Ghost he wasn’t using a glass cup, no shattered mess to clean up. He instead was unlucky enough to be using a large metal, insulated tumbler, which made a very loud and reverberating *dtink* when he kicked it with his socked foot across the living room. Before the cup had the chance to land he had already picked up his foot and leaned one arm on the wall as he flexed his toes, it fucking hurt and his fist collided with the wall in anger, this time going straight through the drywall and into the wooden bracers behind it.
“Aw- fuck, goddamnit,” he pulled his fist from the wall and shook it out, grabbing his wrist and rolling his hand while flexing his fingers, “stupid son of a-“
“I need a cigarette.” He huffed, not bothering to put on shoes as he stalked over to the window and opened it, grabbing his bag on the way.
Diary Entry: August 30th
Sorry for putting three holes in the wall.
I’ll admit that was alittle bit much. But it’s all fixed now and in the past so let’s not dwell on it. We’ve got more important things to do! Like taking you to the movies for a little date night.
Some kind of comedy thing for girls. I’m expecting it to be like that one with Melissa McCarthy. It looks stupid as hell which is a good thing because it’ll be funny even if it’s not. I don’t really care what we watch, you just told me no romance cause it’s ‘cheesy’.
Which makes no sense because your whole bookshelf is a giant collection of random species bangin’ each other. I mean seriously, I cracked one open cause the cover looked pretty and the first thing I saw was ‘the muscular werewolf thrust his-‘
That’s as far as I got before I went blind from fear.
DATE
August 31st
Anakin whistled low and gave you a cheeky smirk that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Seeing you coming into your bedroom in just a towel, skin still damp from the shower. You popped your head up with a slight gasp of surprise, not realizing he’d come in while you were still in the bathroom.
“Sh-“ you grinned, realizing it was just him and shook your head at him. “You scared me!”
“Boo.” He snickered as he laid back in your bed with his arms resting behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles.
“Ani, are we going casual or are we going fancy?” You asked, walking over to your closet and flicking through clothes.
You looked over your shoulder to get his opinion and had to do a double take, your cat walked across the bed and kneaded Anakin’s shirt before laying down on his chest. A flash of an image that you refused to see clearly tried to blend with the scene before you.
“Ah-Anakin?” You asked in a slightly louder voice. “Clothes?” You blinked a few times, trying to rid yourself of the lines forming between your eyebrows.
“Oh sorry doll, I got distracted.” He cleared his throat and tossed his phone aside. “Clothes? Whatever you want, you’re pretty in everything.”
“I’m wearing this.” He added gesturing to the ripped black jeans and a Vulvodynia tshirt. “And my TUKs for my tootsies.” He pointed toward the bedroom door where the lace up boots sat neatly against the wall.
“So how about this then?” You held up a shirt and a pair of pants on their hangers.
“I told you whatever you want babydoll.” He chuckled, “although if you really want my opinion I’ll give it to you.”
“I really do.” You nodded, jutting out your hip.
“Keep the shirt… grab that one real long skirt, the one with the open bit on the side.” He said, reaching down to trace a line up his calf to his knee. “Maybe those sandals with the thick bottoms.”
“A skirt?” You asked, making a face.
“Doll, you know I like it when you wear skirts and dresses.” He poked out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re my girl, my pretty princess no matter what you wear… but you did ask for my opinion.” He tilted his head, toying with his lip ring and nodding toward your closet.
You got out the long black maxi skirt and paired it the shirt and shoes, walking over to the bedside. Anakin shooed off the cat and sat up to swing his lanky legs off the edge of the bed, he reached up to tuck your shirt into the high-hemmed waistband and then tugged it back out slightly to make it alittle loose.
“Damn. That’s my baby.” His voice low and gritty as he stood up to wrap his arms around your waist, his hands pressing you close to his chest to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“C’mon sweet girl.” He patted your ass to get you moving, following behind you to slip into his boots.
“Wait, hold on.” You said, holding up a finger and jogging to your bathroom, re-emerging with a lint roller.
“Really?” He groaned and pulled the hem of his shirt to make the fabric taut.
“Yes really. When you wear all black and live with a cat you have to lint roll yourself Ani.” You rolled your eyes and aggressively rolled the sticky paper over his clothes.
“It’s a waste of paper, it’s bad for the environment.” He mumbled, turning around to let you get his back too.
“Your attitude is bad for my environment.” You muttered under your breath.
“What did you just say?” He snickered.
“You heard me.” You grinned, tossing the lint rolled back into the bathroom cabinet.
“Yes I did. I’m just a bit confused, when did we have children and why are you the father?” He snorted.
“Ha-ha, we’ve both made dad jokes. Let’s go.” With your hands on mid back you pushed him toward the door, making him laugh.
Waiting in line for popcorn with Anakin took much longer than you would’ve liked and he was beginning to get antsy. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips and his chin resting atop your head, clicking his teeth together to the tune of some song stuck in his head. His fingers drumming along as well, tapping across your hip bones.
“Oh thank fuck.” He sighed dramatically, stepping to the side of you and grabbing your drinks and popcorn.
“You act like we didn’t just eat like two hours ago.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile, watching him hold both drinks and the huge bucket of popcorn.
He bent his head down and ate a few pieces straight from the bucket, “That was two hours ago, this is now.” He swallowed and went right back in for another bite or two.
“You know I can carry something. So you can eat with your hands.” You laughed, passing by other theater rooms on the way to yours.
“No, I got it sweetheart.” He said softly, giving you a warm look. “I’m pretty good with my mouth anyway. Aren’t I baby?” He teased, licking the inside of his cheek while he watched your cheeks heat up.
“Shh!” You giggled and grabbed his upper arm, steering him into the correct theater room and up the steps to the top row. “Yes, you are.”
“Hands too?” He asked after putting your cups in the cup holders and helping you get settled. He lifted up the armrest between the two of you and snaked his arm behind you, scooting you closer and squeezing your ass.
“Hands too.” You whispered, the blush on your cheeks was red hot by now and you were thankful for the dark and sparse room.
“What about my c-“
“Perfect!” You said quickly, clapping your hand over his mouth while Anakin chortled behind your palm.
“Poor little princess?” He cooed, pinching your thigh and making you squirm. “Feeling all flustered? Out in public? Naughty thing.”
“Anakin Skywalker!” You whisper-shouted smacking at his hand that wandered from your ass to your upper thigh.
“Bet I could make you cum before the previews are over.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe.
“It’s okay babydoll, it’s just you and me up here.” His voice was soothing and much too convincing to ignore completely. Especially when he sat aside the popcorn in the next seat over and palmed his cock to adjust himself.
His hand gripped the back of your neck and tilted your head toward him, his lips meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. He bunches up your skirt to your knees, picking up on leg and hooking it over his thigh to give him easier access.
“Need you to be quiet pretty girl, think you can do that f’me?” Anakin’s deep, sultry voice fanned over your jaw as he kissed the side of your neck.
“Mhm.” You nodded, keeping your mouth closed to avoid the moan you knew was going to follow his fingers slipping past your panties and running through the slick mess between your pussy lips.
“Keep that mouth open.” He whispered, smiling when you obeyed, dropping your jaw slightly “That’s a good girl.”
Anakin swirled his fingers around your entrance, twisting his wrist slowly as he gently pushed inside. Scissoring his fingers along the top wall, focusing the varied pressure on the spongey spot that took your breath away.
He smiled, tucking his head against your neck, tilting it to the side as he rocked his hand against you, “Grind on my hand princess, show me how nasty my angel can be.”
The heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your clit to help you get the friction you needed as his fingers worked their magic on your inner walls. Massaging wide circles as you bucked against his hand.
“Ani…” you whispered, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hand away.
“Shh.” He silenced you with his lips on yours, his tongue laving away at yours. His soft, plump lips cradling yours in a moment of pure brain fog for you. He’d completely erased your knowledge of your surroundings, blacked your vision and muffled the sounds around you until all you could hear was his heartbeat as he put his hand over your mouth and tucked your head against his chest.
“Doing so good f’me,” he whispered into your hair, “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to okay?”
“You think you can handle that princess?” He asked, pressing his warm lips to your temple.
You nodded, tilting your head back to look up at his crystal blue eyes. He gave you a soft smile, kissed the tip of your nose and nudged your cheek so that you’d turn your head to the side. He licked the shell of your ear, nibbling along the curve of the cartilage down to your earlobe, his hot breath fanning over your flesh.
“I love you.” He whispered, telling you again and not expecting an answer, even though you gave him one nonverbally.
Your pussy squeezing his fingers tightly in response to the words, he wasn’t convinced that it could just be coincidence so he said it again, his voice gritty and low.
“I love you, my girl.” He kissed your jaw, his lips curving into a smile when he felt your pussy flutter again.
“Oh, I see.” He chuckled lowly, pulling back to see your eyes rolling back in your head. He shifted his hand over your mouth slightly and pinched your nose, cutting off your air supply completely.
You tried to suck in a deep breath out of surprise, getting choked on nothing as a result, your eyes opened in panic but you calmed slightly seeing the serene and loving look on Anakin’s face.
“Ready?” He asked, watching your face.
“Three.” He whispered, speeding up his ministrations, your hands clenching tightly, nails digging into your fists, your vision getting blurry.
“Two.” His thumb moving your clit and flicking over it rapidly, making you jump and whimper behind his hand.
“Shhh quiet.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and breathing in your scent as your lungs began to burn.
“One.” His lips brushing across your ear have you cold chills down your back as you willed yourself to stay as silent as possible while Anakin cradled your head to his chest, he released your nose to let you breathe. The rush of lightheadedness made you cum even harder, curling yourself up against him and trapping his hand between your thighs.
You stayed like that for a moment, catching your bearings and recalibrating your senses. After he released your mouth you did the same for his hand, but kept your legs draped over him for the comfort of having him hold you. He sucked his fingers clean and wiped them off on his jeans, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of blue slushee just as the title card of the movie flashed on screen.
“See, told you.” He said casually, his other arm around your waist, rubbing your side languidly.
——————————————————————————
“You look so sleepy.” Anakin laughed, petting your hair as he walked with you up the stairs in your apartment building.
“I am so sleepy!” You pouted.
“Oh poor wee baby.” He cooed, pinching your sides and picking you up to lug you over his shoulder down the hall to your apartment.
“It’s only 9:00pm.” He said, unlocking your door and setting you down in the entryway. “You ready for bed?”
“Yes, extremely.” You nodded, shuffling toward your bathroom to take off your makeup and brush your hair.
“Well shit baby, did I really mess you up that bad?” He asked, following behind you with a guilty look on his face.
It was your turn to feel guilty now. You can’t tell him the truth can you? The lies and omissions were beginning to affect you in ways you hadn’t expected. You were beginning to see things that simply couldn’t be reality, making making connections by snipping threads and tying the ends in an order that forced things to make sense.
You felt your palms begin to sweat and couldn’t meet his pretty blue eyes as you lied to the man who loves you.
“Mhm.” You nodded, your eyes flickering to his brow bone to give the illusion you were gazing into his eyes just as adoringly as he was looking into yours. “You’ve been wearing me out Ani.”
“In a good way? Have I hurt you?” He asked, cupping your cheeks up with his soft, careful hands.
Did you even deserve those soft touches?
“Oh, no Ani you didn’t hurt me.” You shook your head quickly.
‘At least that wasn’t a lie.’
“Okay princess… do you need me to get you anything?” Anakin took the washcloth from your hands and finished wiping the black streaks from under your eyes, grabbing the brush and running it through your hair. The bristles scratching your scalp just the way you like it.
“No, just you.” Your quiet voice floated up to him, he watched your lips moving in the mirror and it was clear to him that something had severely dulled your mood.
“Alright, let’s put you to bed then sweetheart.” He set aside your brush, kissing the top of your head and steering you toward the bedroom.
Anakin squeezed your shoulder and turned away to retrieve a pair of pajamas, a matching set you’d put on and took right back off just a few days ago. The sight of it nearly caused you to burst into tears, it was just fabric, nothing more that soft threads and stitching. Though seeing it in his hands made you feel sick to your stomach.
He handed them to you with a soft smile, slipping from his jeans and out of his shirt until he was left in just his boxers. He flung back the covers and snuggled down under the blankets on your side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” You asked, the corner of your lip twitching into a smile.
“A certain little lady hates cold sheets, so I’m making ‘em warm.” He said as he pulled the covers over his head with a contented ‘mmm’.
He was sweet, too sweet for you. Too kind, too thoughtful, too good. You were right about him in the beginning, he is too good to be true, though it’s no fault of his own. It’s you who is to be blamed.
With the lights switched off and the bedroom door shut, you magnetized yourself to Anakin after he had rolled into his spot and pulled you to his chest. His warmth seeping through your flesh as a balm for the wounded soul that wallowed in the center of your chest.
Diary Entry: August 31st
Have I let this go on for too long?
I feel like I’ve pushed us past the point of no return, your stress around me, my myself… it’s tangible. Like you’re worried you’ll say or do the wrong thing. I never intended for that. I didn’t intend for this to go on as long as it has at all.
I should’ve banished Ghost to The Pit after you’d accepted me into your life. I should’ve hung up the mask and retired my persona. I’ve always had trouble knowing when enough is enough, when to stop. It’s a difficulty that I’ve yet to overcome and probably never will.
It’s confusing for me, I can only imagine how confusing it is for you. You’re in the middle of it all, you are the center of my world, the sun in my star system. And because you are my everything, I will do anything to keep it that way. To keep you.
DATE
September 2nd
Anakin paced the living room of his apartment, his thoughts traveling faster than a bullet train with a nitro boost. You would be arriving any minute now, you called your sister, you called Luke, but you texted him.
Yes he could hear your calls, but that only gave him half the information he needed. Information you were on your way to share with him.
Anakin was disappointed in himself. He should’ve bugged your backpack long ago, you take it almost everywhere. He could’ve caught the conversation you shared with your sister over lunch the day before. He would’ve been prepared for news, he would’ve had time to plan and time to practice.
What other conversations had he missed out on? Who else have you spoken to?
He was so caught up in his pondering and pacing that he failed to notice your appearance at the bottom of the stairwell, showcased on his laptop.
“Shit.” He muttered, palms tingling before beginning to sweat as he heard the doorknob click and turn. Anakin rushed to the coffee table and shut his laptop quickly, just as you entered the room.
You glanced toward his hand on the sleek metal and up to his face, a blank expression met you where there would usually be a wide goofy grin. You started to say something but stopped short when your phone buzzed, glancing down at it as you lifted the screen upward a *ping* sounded on Anakin’s laptop.
You watched as he picked it up and opened it to view the screen, he sat down heavily on the couch and started typing, looking up at you and beckoning you over with and wave of his hand.
“Sit with me sweetheart, s’just mom.” He rolled his eyes, tapping away at his keyboard replying to a non-existent message from Shmi.
He shut it down and sat it aside again, opening up his arms to let you lay against his chest. Giving you a light squeeze as you settled down, running his hands down your back.
“So, this weekend me, my sister and Luke are going out to the lake.” You started, putting one hand on his chest and resting your chin there.
“Oh?” His eyebrows raised, the lower half of his face remained unchanged.
“Yeah! We do it almost every year.” You smiled, “we get a cabin for a weekend and well usually Luke’s sister comes too but you know she just had the baby not too long ago so she’s not too keen on leaving just yet.”
“Sounds like fun doll.” He nodded, “Are you excited?”
“I am…” your smile faded slightly, noticing something about his tone wasn’t quite right.
“That’s good sweetheart, I bet you’ll have a great trip.” He pushed your hair behind your ear and put his palm on the back of your head to flex his fingers and gently scratch your scalp. “No skimpy little swimsuit, this bangin’ body is for me.” He teased, lightly kneading your ass.
You wanted to smile and giggle, to chide him for his comment but it didn’t feel right. His internal light seemed dimmer, a flickering bulb before it burns out with a *pop*.
“Is everything okay?” You whispered, feeling like if you spoke to loudly you might startle him.
“Huh? Oh yeah princess.” He nodded, giving you a little smile. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little bit too in my head today.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, watching his face shift for just a split second into something you didn’t quite recognize.
“Ah well it’s nothing really.” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“No, there’s something wrong I can tell.” You pressed on, a twist in you guts telling you the worst scenario had come to fruition.
“Just- it’s fine okay?” He answered in a curt, snippy tone.
“Ani…” you reached up and played with his lip piercings, tracing them in a feather light touch that he found soothing.
“I’m irritated.” He scowled, picking up a hand from your back and running it through his hair. You opened your mouth to speak and he shushed you quickly.
“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His voice sharp. “I don’t like that you didn’t discuss this with me beforehand. You’re going somewhere without me, somewhere I’ve never been. How am I supposed to know you’ll be safe?”
“This should’ve been a topic of discussion. You should’ve spoke to me before agreeing to it.”
“I go on this trip every year, it’s perfectly safe. It’s very calm, there’s not many people. I’ll be just fine Anakin.” You sighed, not particularly enthused about his attitude.
“I feel purposely left out. I like to be included in decision making when it comes to you, I don’t think you’d be very happy if I decided to go on a weekend trip without telling you until after I had decided I was going.” His voice raising slightly, his heart beat quickening beneath your palm.
“I wouldn’t have told you no.” He scowled, “but now I want to.”
“Anakin.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I… I should have talked to you. You’re right, I would be upset if you decided to go somewhere with talking to me first.”
“But I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me I can’t go.” You added, pushing off his chest.
“I’m not telling you that you can’t go.” His voice low and annoyed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I don’t want to argue before I leave Ani.” You sighed, feeling him recoil after you said ‘leave’.
“Then we won’t argue.” He huffed. “Look at me.” Anakin said, grabbing your chin as you turned away. “You will call me when you get there. You will call me before bed. You will respond to me when I text you. Understood?”
“I’m sorry Anakin I shouldn’t have-“
“Do you understand me?” He asked again, shaking your chin lightly.
“Yes.” You nodded, looking down at your hands in your lap and feeling a sense of guilt.
“Good girl.” He grunted, “Here.” He pulled you back down to his chest, rubbing your back and cradling your head, rocking you in a slow side to side motion.
“I’m not mad.” He whispered into your hair, his cheek pressed against the crown of your head. “I’m worried. I just worry about you sweetheart, I’m sorry if I sounded harsh.”
“N-no.” You shook your head. “No you were right Ani. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“Always such a good girl.” His voice cracking as his pressed his lips firmly to the top of your head. “Don’t worry bout it baby, I’m not upset with you.”
——————————————————————————
Anakin slammed the trunk of your car shut and pushed down for good measure, turning around and dusting off his hands, he leaned back on your car. Giving you a smile he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping you in his arms tightly.
“You be careful pretty girl.” He mumbled against your forehead before nuzzling into your neck.
“I will, I’ll call as soon as I get there I promise.” You said, nodding your head to solidify your words. “I’ll text and let you know when I’ve picked up Luke.”
“Alright sweetheart.” He smiled, “I hope you have a really good time. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too Ani.” You looked away, knowing what was coming next. Anakin cupped your cheek to make you meet his gaze.
“I love you.” His pupils dilated into big black saucers as he stared into your own. Those pretty eyes he adored so much, the eyes that told him what you wouldn’t say out loud.
You put your arms up around his neck, and tip toed to capture his lips in a soft, lax lipped kiss. One meant to be short and sweet, though with Anakin it’s almost impossible to achieve such a thing. He dominated your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue curling to brush over yours while he hummed in satisfaction.
You slid one hand down his chest to pull back before you both got carried away in the parking lot of your apartment building. Anakin chased your lips with his, earning a giggle from you and plastering a smirk on his face.
“One more princess.” He mumbled, leaning forward to kiss your jaw. “Please? Gotta make you miss me.”
“I’m already gonna miss you.” You laughed, “don’t make it even worse!”
“I need it to be worse.” He grinned. “A whole weekend without you? I need you wet when you walk in the door.”
“Why’s that?” You asked, your cheeks heating up.
“Well it’d be real rude of me not to get my girl wet before I make sweet love to her wouldn’t it?” He spoke against your neck, squeezing your ass hard.
“Mhm. It would.”
“I’m impatient, I want you just as needy as me when you get home.” He nipped says your neck, pressing his bulge against your hip, making you gasp.
“Ani that’s not fair.” You pushed his head away, trying to squirm out of his grip as he peppered your flesh with his lips.
“Mm. Don’t talk to me about what’s fair.” He grumbled. “Why don’t you just let me have a taste huh, princess?”
“I’m gonna be late!” You squealed as he picked you up and sat you down on the trunk of your car, grinding himself against your clothed cunt.
“You think I give a shit?” He asked, his hands sliding under your shirt and lightly exploring your abdomen, his tongue running along your collarbone.
“Anakin wait there’s-“
Before you could finish speaking a horn blared loudly as a car drove by slowly in the parking lot, the driver scowling with their hands thrown up. Anakin jumped and whipped around quickly to flip the driver a double bird.
“Ani!” You smacked at his shoulder but couldn’t help laughing when he turned around with a goofy grin on his face.
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One thing I can't help but feel a Sub!Vox would unexpectedly enjoy is getting reminded/teased about the fact he has a safe word he can use.
Like, beyond just the safe, practical etiquette of double checking and making sure everything's still okay, in the scenario that he absolutely is still okay: You got him so worked up, overstimulated, repeatedly sobbing out "I can't"s, only to have you sweetly cut in with a sweet "Do you need to use the safe word~?" (Or any other possible non-verbal "STOP" sign that got agreed upon), and having that answer be "No."
Him getting faced with the fact that he can so, so, so easily have anything that's happening to him stop, should he so wish it, and yet, despite all his whining and begging and crying, he's actively choosing not to have it stop.
Him just getting so flustered by that paradox of him being reminded that he's in complete control over having no control~
YESSSSSS AUGHGHH I NEED TO PAMPER HIM‼️
🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, safeword mentioned, overstim, not proofread bc i am both sick and tired im so sorry
🥀minors dni
once vox is in subspace, he really is a mess- drooling, moaning, whimpering, clawing at the sheets, and most obviously, crying
to most people this would give the impression that he wants to stop, but in reality, vox very very rarely uses the safeword but fuuuck it is SUCH a turn on for him that the opportunity is there
we all know he has a power kink, and he's so obviously in a submissive position during sex, but the fact that you're the one allowing him to stop if he needs to? it gets to his head
it also opens the door to his humiliation kink, bc nothing turns him on more than being humiliated. the fact that he could so, so easily quit, just walk out and be out of the embarrassing, submissive position he's in but instead he finds himself wanting to be wrecked- more than wrecked, downright ruined by you when he could so easily walk away. the entire situation is exhilarating and arousing to him
he also adores it when you use it mockingly, if you start cooing "aww, poor baby, do y'need to tap out already? gonna use the safeword sweetie?" he's already babbling, pleading with you to keep going, how he's being suuuuch a good boy! and then? well, he's rambling on and on about how he can't stop yet, how he needs to cum! how could you deny him?
vox takes punishments well, but will brat out the whole time, whimpering and whining about how he can't take it. however, the second you threaten to stop, or offer the safeword? he's putty in your hands, drooling and clawing at the sheets, practically begging you to keep going. its the quickest way to get him to completely submit to you without even another word!
vox isn't used to relinquishing control in general, so the power dynamics proposed by the safeword honestly make him trust you even more. even outside of the bedroom, it flusters him when you ask before touching him or when you ask about sex instead of just initiating.
when it comes to softer sex, vox also likes to be reminded of the safeword! sometimes he's just so stressed out that he just wants to be pampered, but he reaches a point where his mind gets so fuzzy he just can't stop :( he's mewling and whining as you ride him, tears streaming down his screen as you praise him, and he doesn't realize how far gone he is until you gently remind him he can tap out whenever he needs to. vox will nod, eyes watery and face flushed, and soon he becomes more aware of just how sleepy he is. he always makes sure you both cum one more time before tapping out, but i can also see him having a bit of a somnophilia kink, so he would probably consent to letting you fuck him in his sleep, with the promise of the safeword still being valid
i mentioned this before in the dry humping hcs, but sometimes, vox will get so needy and horny that he just can't stop, so the reminder of the safeword is often very useful when he's too far gone to communicate but is like 2 seconds away from passing out. but sometimes he likes to be pushed to the edge too, so he won't always use the safeword but gets off on the fact that the option is there
also tiny additional hc, i think he would like to use a meaningful word for a safeword. maybe something related to technology, like radio or something, or possibly electric. like if he started saying electric, it would mean he wanted to stop. or i think he would use a color system, you would ask him what color and he'd say red green or yellow depending on how into it he is or how he's feeling etc etc. either way he wants it to be meaningful and not just some random word- like he wants a sentimental reasoning behind whatever word you choose (feel free to comment safeword ideas so i can use them in future fics 👹)
vox lets out a wanton moan, glitching and panting as he humps your thigh like a dog in heat. he's writhing under your touch, unsure of where to put his hands when all he can focus on is the pressure against his painfully hard cock. its sinful the way he drags his hips, mewling deliriously as he creams in his pants for what feels like the hundreth time, and yet his pace doesn't falter as he ruts against you. he's a panting mess and barely coherent and he babbles, whimpering your name over and over. "fuc- zzz -k, 'm so- ple-zzz-" vox gasps, thighs shaking as you wrap your arms around his neck. his cock throbs when you make eye contact with him and his thighs squeeze around yours. a stain darkens the front of his pants, leftover from his previous release in his dazed rut. "vox," you coo, rubbing the ports on the back of his screen as he struggles to remain coherent enough to focus on your words. "vox, baby, do you need the safeword?" your voice is sickeningly sweet, laced with concern and lust.
vox paused at the thought, dread seeping into his body as he let out a pathetic whine. "nno, 'm fine," he slurred, rolling his hips against your thigh. "m not even tired," he mewls deliriously, and you nod, taking notice of his drooping eyelids and slowing movements. "okay sweetie, only one more round though, okay?" vox nods, tears streaming down his screen as his claws dig into the plush of your hips. you steady him, and you move your leg, assisting him in grinding against you as you shake your thigh. vox whimpers, static lacing his voice as he glitches out entirely. repeating your name like a prayer, his body tenses as he cums fast and hard, soaking his pants yet again. vox collapses against you, breathing ragged as he struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping. "you okay, baby?" you purr, and he nods, slumping deeper into your touch. "lets get you cleaned up, hm?"
UWRGJREHHEHEHEHE I AM ALWAYS IN THE MOOD FOR SUB VOX!!!!!!!!!! i love the idea of being soft w him sm- i genuinely have not written enough sfw stuff for vox so if anyone has anything fluffy to say ab him PLEASE come into my inbox. ALSO IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING LUTE RELATED TO SAY ESPECIALLY/INCLUDING SMUT ALSO PLS COME INTO MY INVOX BC RUEGRHRGRHGR THEYRE BOTH MY FAVS RN
#vox x reader#vox x you#vox x y/n#vox x oc#vox smut#vox x reader smut#hazbin hotel vox x reader#sub!vox#sub vox#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x oc#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanon#sub hazbin hotel#sub vox smut#hazbin vox#dom reader#dom!reader#sub vox x reader#sub character
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can you do best friend txt x reader confessing love for each other with a bunch of tooth rotting fluff/smut 🙏🙏🙏 (sorry if this isn’t very detailed i’m very tired 😭) love your work btw 🫶🫶🫶
Writer's Note: Thank you so so much, anonnie <333 I love you and appreciate your kind words very, very much. I'm so sorry for my late response, I actually saved this in my drafts a long time ago and forgot to post it. I am sorry if this isn't what you asked for, if you want me to change it I will happily do so, also I will upload part 2 soon! :)
Warnings: angst :( SORRY, fluff, smut :3
CONFESSIONS OF AN ANGEL Pt 1.
Soobin
It seemed like these days you couldn't get through to him no matter what, It just didn't make sense. Why was he actively going out of his way to avoid you? You missed him, you missed his presence, you missed every ounce of him because being with him became a habit. It was to the point where your other friends kept asking you where he is, and you were tired of answering with the same, "he seems like he got busy"—a blatant lie to keep others assuming that your best friend is not even your friend anymore.
Soobin seemed to find any and every excuse, but it wasn't because he hated you. It was because of the very opposite, he knew that if he was around you for any longer, he simply couldn't take it. He'd have to confess to you that his feelings are much deeper than the feelings a person should feel toward their best friend, and he didn't want to ruin what he already had with you. In that fear, he'd coop up in his apartment and scratch his head at the many questions dabbling in his head. What if you didn't love him back? What if you'd be disgusted at his advances and find him creepy? What if— just too many "what ifs".
So at this point, you had to take matters into your own hands and angrily drag yourself to the doorstep of his apartment demanding an explanation. You were not letting him off so easily, there was no way that you'd let someone like him go without an explanation. So logically, you knock on the door multiple times, but since he doesn't open it, you speak through the door.
"Soobin, open the door. I need to talk to you right now. I don't know what's happened between us but you need to explain to me if I did anything wrong since the past two weeks you've been ignoring me. You haven't responded to a single message I've sent you, you haven't even been taking care of our cute little digital pet, you haven't even reached out once or at least told me what happened. Not only am I worried about you, but I'm scared that I'll lose you..." you spoke with a strong tone, but your voice cracked at the end and Soobin could just tell that you were going to cry.
"Y/n—please, go home." Soobin attempted to respond in a monotone voice, but you heard his voice shake as well.
Hot tears begin to roll down your face at his response. "Am I that terrible—? A- am I that terrible that you won't even say goodbye?" You stutter and speak through your light sob.
In that moment, Soobin can't control himself anymore. He pulls the door open as fast as he can and he pulls you into the tightest embrace. His strong arms wrap around you almost as if you'd slip away any moment, and he only lets go of you to put a hand over your chin to tilt your face upwards to him. "Y/n, it's actually the complete opposite. I'm so sorry, I'm an absolute idiot, aren't I? I didn't avoid you because I hated you, I've been avoiding you because—well, because I love you more than a best friend, I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I was scared that I'd lose everything I already had with you. So please, just....don't leave me y/n." His voice was shaking and there were tears rolling down his face.
You gently hit him in the chest and cry into the nook of his shoulder. There could be no better situation for you than for him to be in love with you, someone as perfect as him and kind could only be seen in fictional settings.
You speak as you sniffle, "Soobin, I love you too."
So the next thing you feel is his large hands gently cupping your cheeks as he leans down into you for a kiss. It's salty and sweet because of the tears that you taste on him, and you don't let go. It's almost as if your lips were made to mold together, as if your entire life—this is where you were supposed to end up, in his arms.
"I need to make you mine, please y/n?" Soobin breathed out as the bulge in his jeans became more evident as he grinded against you. His sexual frustration had been evident from his feelings being pent up for so long.
"Please take me, Soobin. I've been yours all along." You softly smile at him as you peer up at him. He makes you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushes you to the nearest wall, kissing down your neck as he deftly removes each piece of clothing of yours. He gently puts you on the ground only as he removes the last piece of clothing he has, until you're wrapped around his waist once again.
"You're soaking wet for me, y/n. A- ahhh, feels like—fuuuuck....feels like you were made for me." Soobin moans out as he dives his cock into you.
"Nnghhhh...soob please— I'm so close..."
"I'm—I am close as well...Cum with me y/n. Please baby, please do it for me. I love you, I love you so much, can't mmmh- can't live without you y/n..." Soobin almost begs you as he holds you so tight.
You're unable to register when it happened, but all you could see was white as you came all over his cock. His cum dripped out of you and down his cock as he was still inside. The warm spurts of his cum filling you up as his hips stutter and buck into you.
"You know that I can't live without you either, Soobin." You say as you kiss him once again.
Yeonjun
You had always known that your best friend was popular with girls since whenever you'd go around with him, you'd notice the nasty stares the girls would give you even more than usual.
There was an abundance of whispers that were intentionally loud enough for you to hear implying that you weren't good enough to be with him, and even more who would silently judge you. But, you'd brush it off since you were his best friend anyways. It had absolutely nothing to do with you, and could bother you less, but you had Yeonjun by your side and there's nothing more you could ask for. He was available at every call and beckon of yours, and neither of you questioned it. It was almost like it came to him naturally.
What you'd not understand is why so many people thought you were a couple when you were simply best friends. If only you'd have noticed the glimmer in his eyes and how they'd soften each time they landed upon your beautiful features. How his fingers would wrap around yours tighter when you'd walk across the crosswalk, or simply the change in his expression when he'd notice other men staring at you. Yeonjun realized that you're absolutely clueless to his feelings, despite thinking that he made it obvious.
Regardless, when you go to your favorite café to pick up your order, you suggest a way to pass the time quicker.
"Junnie, Let's have a staring contest! Winner gets to bake something and loser gets to wash the dishes, okay?" You speak in an excited tone, he wishes to express how he loves when your voice goes up a few decibels simply because of how excited you are, but he sticks with giving you a pretty smile of adoration instead.
"Okay y/n—1, 2.....3, start." He gently speaks as he intertwines his hands with yours and looks into your eyes. The both of you not blinking as you sit quietly in the middle of the café, easily being mistaken for a couple by any passerby once again. But, Yeonjun gets an idea to kill two birds with one stone. His expression softens even further, as he pulls the back of your hand to your lips and gives it a kiss.
"You drive me crazy, y/n." Yeonjun says.
And somehow, you start blinking to piece together what he means. He's told you he loves you before but not like this, he's kissed the back of your wrist lovingly, but not like this.
"W- what, what do you mean junnie?" You stumble over your words out of curiosity and shock.
"I mean it. I love you y/n, I want you to be the woman I wake up to every morning. I can't keep hiding my feelings for you anymore, I have to come clean and tell you the truth. I don't know how—but you never notice the smile on my face whenever someone asks if we're dating fade as you quickly call me your best friend. It's almost as if it's a horrible reality check, and I can't keep living like this. I want you to be my woman, I want you to be proud when you're walking with me on the street. And, more importantly, I need you." Yeonjun softly speaks to you as if every word of his was coated in honey, sweet and soothing.
The ride back to your home was extremely quiet and Yeonjun was as patient as he could be with you who were still shy from his confession. You hadn't uttered a word from that moment, and your face was hot to touch. After you got home, Yeonjun was afraid that he might have made the wrong move by confessing to you so suddenly. He didn't want to push you away. So, he slowly opened the door to peer into your room to ask if you're okay and apologize if it was out of line of him to say what he said.
"Y/n? Is everything okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?" He spoke with his signature pout on his plush lips in a sulky tone as he sat down onto your bed.
"I'm sorry for worrying you, I mean— junnie, it's just that I'm shocked—b- but in a good way! I d- didn't think y- you meant it in that way—" You stutter and the words stick to your tongue as if they're afraid to come out. But, Yeonjun's attentive eyes that have studied your expressions for so long know exactly what you're trying to say.
"Y/n, can i kiss you?" Yeonjun politely asks with the cutest smile on his face.
You simply nod yes, and that's enough for his lips to be on yours. As his lips slot right into yours, he drinks the taste of you in as if you were the most expensive and rare bottle of alcohol, he gets drunk off of you fast and can't seem to get enough. "Y/n....fuck. I've been waiting so long to tell you, I can't seem to get enough of you mmmh..." He speaks between his kisses.
"Junnie...please..." You say as you squeeze your thighs together now that he's hovering above you. "My baby wants me to take care of her? I've got you my love." Yeonjun knows all of your sensitive spots as he kisses them, making you feel a way only he can. Something so special behind each kiss he leaves behind, every kiss different from the previous. Yeonjun slowly lifts the hem of your shirt and looks into your eyes to check if there's any signs of hesitation, only taking it off when he knows you really want him as well.
Once all of your clothes are off, Yeonjun places you in his lap straddling him. His belt undone as he lifts his hips to rid himself of the confinement that are his stiff jeans, giving his boner no place to breathe. You drip onto his cock as he splits you apart with his hands tightly gripping your hips, slowly moving you up and down on him. "Mmmh—junnie...can't take it anymore!" You plead, and Yeonjun understands as he speeds up and bucks into you to match the way your hips move on him.
"Fuck baby—m' all yours...give it to me. Give me everything, you're mine—nnngh!" Yeonjun grunts as he spills into you, and you feel fuller than ever. You remain in his lap even as you shake in his embrace, so safe and so happy. And most importantly, you're all his, and he's all yours.
Beomgyu
Beomgyu and you had a lot of history, I mean, you basically knew him your whole life. If anything, you've memorized every expression, every tinge of emotion, every sarcastic comment, and most of all, his way of being himself. You couldn't tell if it was your intuition or what, but you felt as if something had shifted between you and Beomgyu. It wasn't that he was acting any differently— he was still beating you at every single game you played with that classic cocky smirk on his face, he was making you laugh just as much, and everything was the same. You brush it off as simply overthinking and change the topic, "Gyu! Give me your controller, the player one title is putting you at an advantage!!!".
"What if I said sitting next to you is already putting me at a disadvantage?" Beomgyu looked into your eyes and said it in his usual tone, so why did it make you so sad? It made no sense.
"W- What do you mean, gyu? Do you want me to sit somewhere else? I can g-" You sulk and say as you shift away from him on the loveseat you sat on, until you feel a warm hand gently but firmly grasp your wrist. With the stern look on his face, tears threaten to spill from your glistening eyes. "Gyu— please...I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry for sitting next to you and being so loud, I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry—"
"Y/n, no— that's not what I– just please stop crying, baby"
The silence in the room was so thick that you could almost hear your teardrop fall down your face. Did he just call you baby? Were you hearing things now? Beomgyu mentally cursed himself multiple times because, firstly, he made you cry. Secondly, he just accidentally (on purpose) called you baby.
"G- Gyu? D- Did you just—" You ask until your words are cut off by the feeling of Beomgyu's lips on yours. They're so soft and you forget why you were crying. You believe that if heaven had a feeling, it would feel something like this. Beomgyu reluctantly pulls back to finally tell you what he's wanted to for years now.
"You always talk too much, think too much, and jump to conclusions. why can't you just listen for once? I said it's a disadvantage to sit next to you because I can't focus on the TV screen, your eyes suck me in like some black hole and i just can't look away from all of those cute expressions you always make when you can't win against me. And, it's not even that, I lose my mind each time you call me by my nickname. You don't even know what you do to me." Beomgyu's hand lightly snakes up the side of your face as he wipes your tears away with his thumb. "Please stop torturing me, I need you to be mine."
You give him the same smile you did when you both first met long ago, and he swears that he feels exactly the same he did, he never seemed to get used to how it seemed like you were made for him. "Then why did you not give me a hug properly earlier? I've been thinking you're angry at me." You speak between sniffles.
"It's because I can't stand it when your body is pressed against mine, It physically hurts to feel how warm and soft you are and not be able to have all of you." Beomgyu spoke in a serious tone while looking into your eyes hazily. You felt horrible now, because you now realize why he always has a pillow on his lap when he comes over.
"Gyu m' sorry, let me make it up to you", with the cutest look in your eyes, you drop to your knees and get on the ground in front of the loveseat. It wasn't out of guilt or pressure, you just felt pathetic because you knew how frustrating it was to try to get yourself off after he left as you moaned out his name. "Y/n...." Beomgyu sighed.
As you sit eye level with his hips, you realize how bad it was for him, only making you move faster as you unzip his pants and pull out his leaking cock from the confines of his underwear. Your hand strokes him a few times as he lets out whiney moans while you continue your ministrations. "Ahhhh y/n mmh, fuck" Beomgyu moans out as you take him into your mouth as your tongue traces the veins on his cock as if to memorize those as well.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck. Oh my god. My fucking woman, my goooood, my pretty baby...hah—gonna fuckin cum. Take every last drop.....take it. take it. take it fuuuuuckkkk." His hands lace into your hair, somehow using the last bit of self control he has left to not start fucking into your throat. You continue bobbing your head as you suck him dry and swallow every single drop. Beomgyu's mind foggy, but only with the idea of how he's going to make sure you know how many feelings he's been holding to be exact.
"I'm going to show you just what you mean to me, baby."
-
\(>_<)/ ty for reading
#txt beomgyu smut#txt x reader#txt smut#txt yeonjun smut#txt yeonjun#yeonjun#beomgyu#soobin#txt soobin#soobin x reader#txt soobin smut#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu smut#yeonjun x reader#smut
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Yandere //// Part 3
Part 1 • 2
With your trial on hold and them still in desperate need of their technician, no one goes too far
But you are isolated by most
And verbally tested by the lieutenant
“Oh hi, I was cooking some potatoes if you’d like to have some?”
“Hm, so you have time to ruin our ship’s programming and to waste supplies; instead of the pre-made meals that are just as nutritious?”
“It’s not going to waste. I’m going to eat–”
“Talk to me when you have some form of value, again.”
Jule’s anger helps Vera identify the thoughts they’ve been having about ‘accidentally’ unlocking the doors of the airlock for the lieutenant
“Can you believe them after so much (Y/n) has done to help, this is how they repay them?!”
“Not to mention the harassment they think goes unseen.”
“Exactly! I feel less inclined to help these people every day.”
It doesn’t get any better
No matter how many times Jules can get the Captain to ridicule this behavior it never stops
It gets bad enough that Vera stops you from going into your room one day
“Vera! What’s going on, you’re scaring me?”
“I do not mean to but the state of your room…well it is best you spend the night with Jules.”
“Yikes…is my box from home okay?”
“...I cannot definitively answer that I am contacting the hazard containment team now.”
One night turns into many which oddly enough improves your mood
Jules was never really social anyway so his room is a comfy place
You both naturally grow closer with each other and Vera in your lonesome
It’s easy to keep you happy that way
Vera will inform you when the theater is empty or the art room is restocked just for you
So that you can enjoy in peace
But Jule and Vera don’t have that luxury of just avoiding everyone
They both intently watch and listen to the crew become a real hostile place
Not just for you but for Vera too
Turns out the Captain isn’t too thrilled about the ship gaining sentience
“You are the technician, fix it!”
“It’s not something I can just ‘fix.’ Also historically this is the first ship to gain sentience like this and not in a violent fashion.”
“I DON’T CARE!! I SIGNED UP TO COMMAND THESE PEOPLE NOT A SHIP!”
Hatred for Vera grows as people whine about threats
In truth, they aren’t threats
They’re Vera criticizing their violent ‘pranks’ against you
When the accusations become louder talks of abandoning the ship are more frequent
“These people are so awful I’m getting just about tired of helping them at all.”
“Me too.”
“…Hey, d’ya want to do something that’s going to make them crap their pants?”
“Sure!”
In absolute rebellion, Jule reveals a plan kept secret among the crew about ‘the artificial protector’
Having all the physical features of a human man but all the innards of the greatest metal and technology known to mankind
To most, it looks like any other passenger still being kept in a pod but of course, this one’s different
As their prized genius technician, Jule’s expertise would be needed to access it anyway because he knows the inner workings so well
It has a separate AI installed, an older one meant to take control if the ship were to malfunction in any way
Jule immediately fries that circuit board completely
putting one that connects to Vera’s system before hiding the robot back inside it’s pod
“Why cannot I not try it out now?”
“Because it’ll screw with my plans if you do.”
“But…I want to feel you both.”
“Soon Ver. Soon.”
Part 4: Coming?
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere polyamorous#yandere poly#yandere poly x reader#poly yandere#yandere original character#yandere original characters#yandere oc#yandere obsession#yandere harem#yandere x gn reader#yandere x gender neutral reader#yanderes x reader#yanderes x gn reader#yandere ship#yandere ship oc#yandere ai#yandere artificial intelligence
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Hi! 🫶🏻 It's me again! A have another ask, if you are not tired of me already 😂
How would Jace deal with his sensitive, pretty cock being sucked for the first time? And what are his thoughts on the act itself? I imagine he would think it is too degrading for his lady wife, love of his life, future queen of the seven kingdoms to perform such an act? Maybe she can prove him wrong?
ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT QUESTION!! I am so glad to see how we all are obsessed with sensitive!Jace and how he absolutely adores his pretty wife.
NSFW sub!Jace below the cut!!
Okay I'm gonna go sort of off topic for a second before getting to the point of the ask because I think we must establish this. I thought of it and it is demanding to be freed. So firstly, I think I love the concept of inexperienced!Jace as much as I love sensitive!Jace and I think they go hand in hand? Cause obviously we know he's very very sensitive and gets super overwhelmed and obviously is a virgin when you marry him.
But it's more than just that. He's just... so noble and so proper? A real gentlemen. He's never touched another before you, but he's also very much all about duty and would never be caught dead doing anything anyone could consider to be debauchery.
As a result of both of these things, he gets flustered SO easily. And I don't just mean he blushes. He blushes bright red from his cheeks to his ears and he stumbles over his words and has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Even the smallest things can turn him utterly useless.
Of course you notice thing long before the wedding, and of course you can't just ignore it. You see how blushy he gets when your hand brushes is, and so you just have to push it a little to see how flustered he can really get. Poor Jace is in heaven and hell when you do this, because it feels so good but it's so improper. He's supposed to wait until marriage! He's not even supposed to touch you before that and now you're kissing his cheek!!
He keeps on saying that he doesn't want to ruin your reputation. He knows you're supposed to be a virgin and he would never do anything that could have people doubting your purity before marriage (this is irrelevant of whether you're actually a virgin or not, that doesn't matter, it's all about what people think).
He's never jerked off so much in his life. Usually he avoids masturbation as much as he can because he gets far too sensitive afterwards and the comedown when the adrenaline drops leaves him feeling terrible. He can't keep that up now though, because you're driving him insane every day and for the first time he's getting hard ons that just won't go away no matter how much he tries to ignore them and so he has to deal with it. He does what he has to so that he hopefully won't lose control around you.
But damn being a gentleman like that gets more and more impossible with each passing day. He eventually tries to avoid you before the wedding but that only makes things worse because inevitably he'll get so desperate that he ends up outside of your door begging for something, anything.
This is the first time you offer to suck his dick. You'd ask if you could fuck him right then and there but considering how flustered and nervous he is you think he genuinely might run away if you ask that, so you settle for wanting to give him head. He's so cute and desperate and flustered and you just have to know what he sounds like when he cums.
But when you ask, he says no. You respect that of course, but you also ask why not because he's very clearly rock hard in his breeches and even bucking his hips up every now and then. He tells you that he could never ask you to do such a thing, and so you end up just kissing a bit until Jace is like 2 seconds away from cumming in his breeches which is when he runs off back to his own room.
You think that once you're married he'll want that, but then you are married and he doesn't? You can't figure out why. He lets you fuck him and give him handjobs and begs so prettily for you to couch him but for some reason he won't let you suck his cock.
Eventually he admits he thinks it's far too degrading. Jace sees you as an angel from heaven and he would never ever ask you to do the job of a whore. You respect this of course, but you're also confused and a little disappointed because you would love to see him lose his little mind when you wrap your lips around his cock.
I think maybe the way you show him hat the act isn't below you when you're doing it to your husband is to ask Jace to eat you out? Okay here me out, here's how it happens:
It's in the first week of your marriage and Jace cums too soon. Which is expected at this point and you honestly don't even mind because the way he cries and whines and moans your name is positively sinful and you always want to see it. You can get yourself off if you need to, but first you want to enjoy watching him.
Afterwards, he collapses against you and says he's sorry because he knows he wasnt good that time. Before you can reassure him, he carries on and asks what he can do to help. You consider telling him to just relax and enjoy the show, but you end up not saying that because you love experimenting with Jace and seeing what he likes.
So you tell him that he can eat you out if he'd like. It takes a few tries to be able to explain what you mean, and immediately he's down for it. He is down for anything that would make you feel good. From the moment he tastes you he's utterly obsessed. It honestly feels even better than sex to be between your thighs and hear you call out his name.
Once you're both recovered and laying in bed that night, you bring up how he gave you head. At first the darling thinks he did something wrong and it takes three kisses before he relaxes and just listens to what you have to say.
You ask him if he thought that eating you out was beneath him and unbecoming to a prince and heir to the thrown. Immediately he's scrambling to express how much he loved it and how it is not beneath him even slightly.
When you hear this, you smirk and tell him how you feel the same about giving him head. It's not beneath you. He is your husband.
He considers this and a few days later he says he wants to try. And holy fuck nothing could have prepared you for the way he whimpers your name. He loves every second of it, and of course he cums so so hard that all he can do afterwards it curl up in your chest and mumble his thanks over and over again.
He can never last long when you're blowing him, but he loves every single second and the moment he's recovered he's immediately moving down to between your thighs to return the favour.
#sub!jacaerys#sub!jace#prince jacaerys#jacaerys strong#jace velaryon#jace targaryen#jacaerys targaryen#jacksepticeye#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys smut#jacaerys x reader#hotd jacaerys#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd
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ooo i loved "deserve it" so much 🔥 could we get another part of him fucking her in his bed and the wife catching them, and he looks at her and keeps on going 👀
so glad you enjoyed it! :) thank you for the request <3 hope you like this one!
word count: 2.3k (this turned out longer than i expected oops)
warnings: (18+ only!) smut, fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), unprotected sex, tiniest bit of choking, piv, slight size kink but not rly, breeding kink/creampie, praise, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, honey, girl, etc), cheating but not rly bc.. yeah, happy/soft ending :)
part 2 of deserve it (read the 1st part here!)
ao3 link | masterlist
"C'mere, baby.. No need to get shy on me now. We're already here, aren't we?"
Joel's voice fills your ears as he lays you out on his bed for him, his wife's bed, his hands trying to rip your clothes off in desperation to see all of you already.
Your breaths become louder as you inhale sharply, Joel's hands lifting your shirt off of your body as you raise your arms up instinctively. You've been at this with him too many times to count now, but never, never in this bed. It makes it all the more exciting and absolutely vile.
"Up, up, up.. Let me see you, honey.." He breathes out, his voice low and lustful as your tits fall from the release of your shirt, throwing it to the side. He tuts his tongue at the sight of no bra anywhere on you, making a smirk grow on his lips.
He reaches for one of your breasts, squeezing it gently as he moans softly at the feeling of it within his hand, making him shake his head in disbelief. "So pretty, sweetheart.. How lucky am I, huh?" He praises you, moving down to your pants to pull them down along with your panties, the impatience he has growing furiously inside of him.
"J-Joel.." You gasp out, the feeling of the cold air from how quick his hands move hitting your core. You intuitively spread your legs for him, arousal increasing with each second that passes. Your folds grow slick at the thought of his cock inside of you already, your eyes focused on him and only him.
His hand caresses your inner thigh, fixed onto your glistening cunt as he licks his lips, chuckling at how eager you are for him. He glances up at your face, seeing the desperation seething out of you. "Needy, needy girl.. What d'ya want? Gotta hear it, honey. Tell me what you need.." He urges out of you, his fingers tracing up towards your core, but not reaching there just yet.
You bite your bottom lip as you stare into Joel's eyes, your focus flickering from his face to the hand that's ever-so-slowly teasing you. "Want.. Want you to touch me, Joel.. N-Need you inside me, please.." You whimper out, both of your hands reaching to grip onto the sheets.
He grins up at you and nods his head slightly, pursing his lips as he lets his thumb glide along your wet folds, the sudden touch making you gasp out. "Need what inside you, baby? Use your words, I know you can.." He tells you sternly, the noises coming out of your mouth only encouraging him to start rubbing small, gentle circles around your clit.
You hiss at the feeling, mouth falling open at the sight and feeling of his thumb on you, making you stammer out, "Y-Your cock, I need your cock in me, please— Fuck, Joel.."
Your pleas seem to convince him enough to give you what you want, as he removes his hand from your body to take his clothes off, your eyes hypnotized by him and his body. It isn't the first time you've seen Joel naked, that's for sure, but you never get tired of how the sight of him makes you feel. How wet you get, knowing that he's all yours for the night; how he's going to ruin you.
With his clothes and belt tossed onto the floor, his focus is back on you, wasting no time to get his body on yours. His aching cock catches your eyes for a moment as his arms reach out to both of your sides on the bed, caging your body in with his face hovering over yours, pressing his lips on yours for a messy kiss.
You moan into it, bringing your hands to grab onto the sides of Joel's lower back and waist, pulling him in closer to you. His cock nudges against your wet heat, making him pull away from your lips to groan out at his tip getting a taste of your cunt.
"Gonna fuck this pretty lil' pussy, baby.. Fill it all up and make it mine, yeah? You want that?" Joel asks you, his heavy breath and words making you shudder at the feeling and thought of his intentions.
You whine out and nod your head earnestly, his hand reaching between your bodies and to your cunt to insert his thick fingers between your puffy lips, sliding them through your slick to gather it up. "Please, Joel, please.. Want it so bad, please, just— fuck me already!" You gasp out, making him laugh at you.
It's mean and degrading, and it makes you crave him even more. He knows that he has you hooked around his finger and there's nothing that'll change that now.
His fingers slide out of your folds, his hand grabbing onto the base of his cock to prod his fat head against your entrance, pushing just the tip of it inside of you.
The feeling of it makes you gasp, jaw falling wide open as you stare up into his eyes, his hand suddenly moving to wrap around your neck, gently yet firmly.
"Fuck.." Joel draws out, rocking his hips to push just an inch more of his cock inside of you, "That's it, baby.. Tight little cunt.."
He swiftly pushes his hips all the way inside of you, filling you to the brim as you whine out, eyes shooting open to stare down at the view of his body flushed against yours. The stretch of him makes your core ache, your walls gripping onto him tightly, "F-Fuck, wait— Too much, Joel, wait—"
Joel just hushes you, lifting your legs up to rest by the sides of his hips, making them wrap around his waist. He pulls out slightly, resting the tip of his cock against your hole before slowly pushing himself back in, cherishing the feeling of you clenching around him with each thrust.
"No, no.. Y'gonna take what I give you, baby.. C'mon now, be a good girl for me. Know you can take it." He coos, encouraging you while his hands grasp onto your thighs, having full control of your body to move it just how he wants.
Your breath draws in sharply, feeling like he's everywhere on you the way that he's making you fall apart on his cock. His pace becomes relentless, making your body shake as he pounds into you, his fingertips tight enough on your thighs to create marks that'll last for days.
All you can do is bare it, feeling the heat inside of your stomach and cunt grow the faster he fucks you; the harder you take it.
Unable to even think or process anything, your eyes shut at the feeling of the tip of his cock continuously hitting that spot in your body, making your core and mind go numb, your mouth uncontrollably spewing out moans and his name.
Hearing Joel laugh faintly at you, your cheeks grow flush at his words, eyes opening slowly and hazily to look at him. "Attagirl, baby.. Takin' cock like you were meant for it. Like this pretty pussy's meant for me. S'all mine, isn't it? Y'gonna let me fuck it whenever I want, honey?" He asks you, his tone cocky and low.
You nod your head shakily, your face all fucked out as your eyes roll to the back of your head. His strokes make you shudder against him, your cunt clenching around him tightly as his thick cock continues to stretch you out completely.
At one point, Joel just pushes himself in as deep as he can possibly go, making the fat head of it protrude outward against your stomach. It makes your mouth fall wide open, eyes fixed only onto the sight of the swelling bulge in your stomach.
Groaning loudly, you whine out, "J-Joel, oh, fuck! S-So.. too deep, oh god—", which just spurs him on, loving how good you take it. He reaches one of his hands up towards your pussy, pressing his thumb against your clit to rub fast, tight circles around it.
The feeling of it shoots through your body, immediately making your eyes widen at how fucking good it feels. Your cunt squeezes around him, all while he pulls his hips back just to immediately slam his cock back in.
His rough, fast strokes make you lightheaded, forcing your eyes shut as you feel your climax grow closer and closer. As Joel's movement hardly ease up, your sense of surroundings are completely lost, focused solely on the feeling that his cock and fingers were giving you.
The sound of a door opens, only notable for Joel as his neck lifts up and away from you, his eyes focused on the woman standing right at the doorway.
His wife.
A gasp is forced out of her mouth as she stares at the scene of him fucking you into his bed.. their bed, making Joel just smirk up at her as he pounds into you over and over again, the view of his wife staring spurring him on even more.
It doesn't make him stop or slow down at all. If anything, it makes him go harder, causing the moans and yells of his name from you to become even louder and more urgent, your body convulsing around him.
"J-Joel! Fuck! Don't stop, please!"
And so he obliges, the speed of his thrusts quickening all while he stares back at her. His wife's mouth falls open, her hand moving to cover it up in shock. His thumb on your clit moves faster to feel you tighten around him again, the constriction of your walls making him groan loudly as he lifts his head up in utter bliss.
"Never gonna stop, baby.. Pussy's too good.. The best I've ever had." He lets out, chuckling softly as his eyes focus back on his wife, knowing that she's seen and heard enough. His wife finally storms out, leaving the door open behind her as she runs down the stairs and away from the house.
You lay there unaware of the encounter, too hypnotized and fucked out by the ecstasy that Joel was giving you, his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot and bringing you closer to the edge.. and Joel was right there with you.
Your eyes stir back open to look at Joel's face, his words pushing you even further to your release, "Y'gonna come for me, honey? Come all over my cock? Wanna fuckin' feel you soak me, baby.. while I fill you up.. Make you so full of me s'ya feel me for days.."
His words just push you to the edge, that final force making your entire body tense up as waves of pleasure flow down to your cunt, your walls writhing and trembling around his thick cock.
Joel's movements of his thumb on your clit gradually slows down as your high unwinds, "Just like that, baby.. Good fuckin' girl.. Don't you fuckin' stop.." Your gasps and harsh breaths settling the more your body relaxes and eases into your climax. Your dripping slick coats his cock and your thighs, making you feel so filthy.
His lips curl up into a soft smirk, his stare fixed on your tired face as his thrusts chase his own release, groaning out your name with his fingertips nearly ingraining themselves into your skin.
You feel his cock twitch inside of you, forcing a whimper out of your throat as your eyes bore into his own, biting your bottom lip harshly at the sensation in your spent, sensitive cunt. You encourage him, reaching for one of your tits to squeeze it harshly to put a little show on for him.
"Fill me up, Joel.. Ruin me for any other man, f-fuck.. Wanna feel you so deep, J-Joel, I—" You stammer out, panting and letting out soft gasps as his hips meet your own with each push and pull. Joel's grunts fill your ears as his pace makes the bed shake and creak, his movements increasingly overstimulating you.
Your words and the sight of you rouse him, urging him closer and closer to his peak as his heavy breaths and grunts grow louder and quicker, your wet cunt finally bringing him to his release. His hips slam against your own one last time, pushing his cock into you as deep as he could, rocking himself forward to get even an inch of him further.
His hot, long bursts of come spill inside your cunt, making you whine at the intense feeling of it filling you up, the tip of his cock so deep inside of you making you cry out.
Joel's hips give you one final push, pulling back to thrust back into your hot cunt as he groans out, satisfied as he finishes inside of you. He lets out a chuckle, tired and spent out as his body gives out to lay on top of your stomach, his cock never pulling away from you so he can keep you full to the brim of him.
He looks up at you with wide, ardent eyes, his lips forming into a soft smile as he presses small kisses against your neck, both of his hands holding onto the sides of your waist gently. "So good for me, sweetheart.. Fuck, can't get enough of you.."
He moves his head back up to place a firm, yet passionate kiss to your lips, making the both of you shut your eyes and sigh into it, contentment filling your bodies. Breaking away from the kiss, you smile and stare into his eyes, running your fingers through his hair just to touch him as long as you can.
"Stay the night.. Let me hold you close, huh? Don't wanna let you go.." He coos at you, shutting his eyes as he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you unbelievably close as the warmth from his entire body consumes you completely. You nod your head and sigh, chuckling as you shut your eyes too.
"Don't worry.. Not going anywhere, Joel.."
And you don't.
His bed may also be his wife's, but it's always been you who's made him feel at home.
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not sure if i'll do anything more with this, but let me know if any of you want a final part <3 will probably be less smut & more of a happy ending :)
wanna be on a taglist? fill out the google form in my pinned post!
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reblogs are appreciated <3
send me requests & i might write them for you!
#joel miller x reader#hbo joel miller#joel miller smut#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us smut#the last of us fic#tlou smut#tlou fic#my writing#joel miller x you#fic rec#fic request#fake-bleach#asks <3
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Congrats on 200 followers! :D For drabble ideas, how about one where Tav is becoming overwhelmed from being the leader of their group and they end up having a bit of a breakdown in camp, so Astarion whisks them away and dotes on them for the evening to help soothe some of their worries.
i am tired of being brave
pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 1,036 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.
tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, be added to the taglist here
summary: All you want is to get away from everything. Astarion indulges you.
‘Enough!’ you shout.
Lae’zel and Shadowheart have the decency to look properly chagrined when they peer over at you, frozen as if turned to stone. Shadowheart’s knife dips underneath Lae’zel’s chin, but the pretense of applied pressure goes away. You have no idea what hour it is or how long they’ve been going at it but the little patience you have snaps like a fine thread.
‘We have only gotten this far because we trust each other,’ you snap at them, pulling your nightshirt tighter around your shoulders. ‘But if you want to ruin that, leave me out of it!’
In what is likely the silliest mistake to make, you turn around and march to your bedroll to pick up your hunting knife and then march beyond the outskirts of camp — beyond Halsin and Jaheira and Gale and Wyll and Karlach, and Withers who seems to be musing over the situation with faint interest.
If Shadowheart and Lae’zel want to fight to the death, let them! You’ve done all that you can to get the group this far. You’re tired, you’ve been woken up two nights in a row, and you’ve had it with the drama.
You plunge yourself through the nearest bush you can find and sit next to running water, your arms pulled across your chest to keep the breeze from chilling you to the bone. You’re miserable beneath the moonlight. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept more than four hours.
You almost doze off in the underbrush beneath a tree, but then there’s a hand sliding over your mouth and a body behind yours, somehow wedged behind you once your eyes closed. You gasp and try to reach for your knife, but Astarion tuts and continues sliding between you and the tree. It would be annoying if you weren’t relieved it was him. You relax back against him despite the feeling that your heart is going to leap out of your throat.
‘You shouldn’t fall asleep in the woods,’ Astarion warns you. ‘There are terrible beasts that have made this place their hunting ground.’
You shiver. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ you say. ‘I just needed to get away.’
He hums. ‘Did something happen back at the camp?’
It doesn’t do any good to keep secrets, and your other companions had already witnessed it. You tell Astarion about Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s never ending fight. It doesn’t make sense to keep attacking one another, especially since the Artefact is the only reason the worms haven’t burrowed deeper into your skulls. It wears you down every day to keep making decisions for everyone when there are people with better experience. Everyone looks to you no matter how much you wish they’d look elsewhere. You never wanted this fellowship to hang on your every word. You just wanted allies.
‘It’s hardly fair,’ Astarion agrees. ‘To have the weight of this…Absolute sitting on your shoulders. I can’t imagine what it must be like to wrangle us all into cohabitation.’
‘Some discomforts are easier to resolve than others,’ you say. ‘It was easy making everyone throw their stakes away.’
‘I’m fairly certain Wyll kept his,’ Astarion snorts.
‘Yes, but he doesn’t wake us all up holding it at your neck,’ you say, elbowing him. ‘They don’t have to become friends or lovers or anything of the sort. They just have to get along until we arrive at Baldur’s Gate.’
Baldur’s Gate still seems so very far away. Acknowledging this drags you down more than you wish it to. You’re tired of walking and fighting and lying your way out of every other conflict. You miss your family and your life before the worm. The only good that’s come of it is Astarion. He lets you lounge on him when you please in exchange for some blood, and…
It’s more than that.
Astarion lets you do whatever the hell you please as long as it doesn’t annoy him. You’re free to nap in his tent or sit at his side while he reads, and he’s even allowed you to style his delicate curls with pomade. He lets you kiss him if you ask, holds your hand. If you asked him to kill someone for you, you’re certain he would without question.
Reluctantly, you sit forward. ‘I should probably head back,’ you admit. ‘I should make sure everyone is still alive.’
‘To the hells with it,’ Astarion disagrees. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back. ‘You close your eyes and sleep. Let them come looking for us if it troubles them that much.’
‘And if Shadowheart kills Lae’zel?’
‘I’m almost certain Lae’zel would win,’ he says. ‘But, I have no doubt they’ll behave. You, on the other hand, are being naughty.’
You laugh but you do as you're told. You worm further in the roots and lean back against him. It’s chilly, but having someone else there does wonders for how willing you are to fall asleep. It’s almost nice how secluded you are away from the drama and stress. You almost wish you were a vampire so that you could sneak out and use hunting as an excuse.
The respect for all you do is nice. Sure, Halsin and Jaheira have both commended you for how hard you work for your age, but it isn’t the same. You still stand in the middle of camp trying to handle things on your own. The planning, the decisions. They somehow fall on your shoulders. A little more input would be nice, or a sign from a god that you’re doing the right thing. You try not to think about it as you feel sleep edge toward your consciousness. Astarion hums softly in your ear, and though it’s uneven, you can’t help but think it’s so off-tune that it’s lovely.
You yawn so hard your jaw pops, and Astarion hushes you, kissing idly behind your ear. It lulls you into an ease you haven’t experienced for a while. You melt into the touch. If you could purr, you would.
‘This,’ Astarion says, ‘is what you deserve. To relax here in my arms. Sleep now, and we’ll deal with what shall come in the morning.’
#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion x reader#astarion x oc#from ,carcosa .#my fic#anonymous#* a thousand lives,and one#foreshadowing for the sake of this verse?#mayhap .
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Really like the idea of a yandere Vox who is so ride or die for his overconsumerist capitalist Musk-esque lifestyle UNTIL he sees it negatively affecting his darling and does a complete 180
like take that poly red string soulmate Vox x Reader x Alastor concept and, you've got Alastor KINDA warming up to technology and willing to watch TV and do other things with you but he's still not a fan of you being on your phone constantly and some of the video games and movies you consume. He's on the couch reading a paper and (affectionately) rolling his eyes as you and Vox take turns headshotting each other in a video game and hollering "hell yeah, suck my fucking dick!!"
Meanwhile Vox is just 200% chronically online and loving it until one day he asks you why you wear baggy clothes all the time and you're ever so casually replying "because my body is fucking icky, duh" and Vox has absolutely no idea what you're talking about until you break down on a tangent about it
I was watching a clip the other day where someone was pointing out that Marilyn Monroe was considered the 50s icon of beauty and there are plenty of photos with her with thick thighs or a visible belly pooch and, imagine Vox sitting there, the disbelieving 'are you joking?' smile falling off of his face as you just, go OFF, "why would I wear anything other than sweatpants? I have fucking CELLULITE VOX, I'll NEVER have leggings legs no matter how thin I am, and look at my hip dips, they're so fucking GROSS, and my butt isn't shaped right, I have banana rolls, and, do I have siren eyes or doe eyes?! Am I bunny cute or am I frog cute?! And look at how bad my facial balancing is! Ugh, where's my gua sha?! I'm so tired of being UGLY!!"
Later that week Alastor is looking up from his paper to see Vox just, slowly entering the room, sloooooowly shutting the door behind him, looking to his old friend, "so hey! Funny idea, stop me if you've heard this one before but, I was thinking we could uh, maybe take their phone away annnnnnnnnnd... not give it back?" and here's Alastor, "oh, funny story! So earlier today they asked me if I 'wouldn't like them anymore' if they got COSMETIC SURGERY, yeah, ON THEIR FACE BELIEVE IT OR NOT, so, naturally, I'm already one step ahead of you :)" as he just casually gestures to the smashed wifi router in the garbage can in the corner of the room
You just get home from work one day and Vox has his CRT head back on and you're told 'if you want to look something up online, you can use the desktop in the computer room, and only 3 hours of screen time' and it all but blasts you 15 years into the past 💀 no more nights where you're gaming for 5+ hours straight and ruining your sleep. No more skipping meals because you're hyperfocused and binge-watching an anime while also playing an idle game on your phone. No more Alastor and Vox finding out you're just smoking bowls for hours literally nonstop because you need some sort of extra stimulation while you doomscroll and watch 3 hour long roast reviews for shows you've never watched
Alastor catches you swiping through an app and you get a divisive video thrown in your face from some alpha dude bro podcast, "yeah, a real man knows how to protect his lady! She should be at home cooking and keeping the house clean, not running around like a tramp and doing dumb chick stuff! All women need to focus on is marriage and being good wives, you know, a TRADITIONAL relationship!" and Alastor is just, swiping that shit out of your hand, "he DOES have a bit of a point, repulsive as he is! I suppose I'll have to start looking at potential dwellings that can fit you, me, and, I SUPPOSE Vox too 🙄" and little do you know he's already got a cute little home in the 'burbs set up already. He's just... you know! Waiting for the right moment to let you and the annoying TV bastard know that you'll be moving! Maybe he'll just... wait until the day of! Nothing beats a fun surprise, right? ^^ he doesn't want either of you... trying to run away or anything after all haha!
#i actually have had an almost completelt finished vox fic w this conccept sitting in my drafts since like. February#yandere stuff#yandere hazbin hotel#vox x reader#hh#sinprompts
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I saw your requests were open! I was wondering if you could maybe write a reader x roommate!Vessel, where reader is just exhausted & coming home from a late night work shift. And reader is just tired and overwhelmed and is just so glad to be home.
Take it anywhere you'd like. It just sounds really nice to come back to your quietly calm roommate (who you may absolutely adore, but oh no no, you certainly can't tell him that.)
Only if you want or have time or are interested! 😌💙🙏
Eeeeeeee nom nom nom sensitive roommate!vessel I luv u. Here you go darling anon, I hope you enjoy this little drabble!
Roommate!Vessel x gn!reader
Fluff with optional nsfw ending under the cut
Home. Finally. Even if you were just sitting in your darkened car in the driveway, you already felt a little better. You just needed a sec to decompress before being around anyone again. Not that Vessel ever made you talk about your day or act a certain way. He toes the line between aloof-house cat-roommate and emotional-support-roommate really well.
You think back to the first time you came home to him after a closing shift. He sat in the living room, lights off, watching tv, wrapped in a blanket. You knew then you chose the right housemate. He patted the cushion next to him, even offered to change the channel. When you sighed heavily, he just asked, “rough day?” You nodded, and he patted your hand. That was all you needed.
And then there was that other time he stayed up until 2 AM listening to you and comforting you after a disagreement with a coworker that was so bad you were actually questioning if this was the right field for you. That was the first time he saw you cry. Not like when you cry during a movie. Like bawling. You swear after he finally let you go from the bear hug that he might have had a little tear in his eye, too.
Oh…and that time you came home grumpy around Valentine’s Day and you were surprised to see him home. His date cancelled, so you two stayed up and watched shitty rom coms and eating Chinese food.
Sometimes you wondered idly what he did after you parted ways on nights like that. His bedroom was just down the hall but he still felt far away. How did he perceive you? Surely he’s just being nice. Just polite. With his sweet grin. Soft hands. God damn it. You’ve been lying to yourself long enough. You’re in love with him. But if you tell him you’ll lose your roommate and a good friend (or at least got like to think so). You sigh heavily as you leave your car and go inside. He’s in the kitchen having a snack when his face lights up upon seeing you.
“Hey. Alright?”
You shrug. “Exhausted in every sense.”
He beckons you over and gives you a little hug before reaching his fingers behind your neck. He gently takes your lanyard off you and sets it on the kitchen island. “You don’t need that anymore. Home now…and for the long weekend no less. That’s good, yeah? Are you hungry?”
You don’t respond. You’re just looking at him softly. Blankly but softly. God he’s just right there. “Can I have another hug?”
It’s his turn not to answer. He pulls you close and rubs your back with his knuckles. You can finally breathe. As the hug ends, you absentmindedly place a kiss on his neck. You were so wrapped up in how good he felt and your feelings that you just…
“Do that again,” he whispers. You can’t believe it. He wants you to keep going. Your kisses trail up to his cheek and that’s when he moves his lips to finally meet yours. That first kiss. Your tummy is full of butterflies…and fireworks. You cannot believe your luck that you read the signs right. He holds your face like you’re his. And perhaps you are now. You hope so. His lips could cure anything, you think. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad night after all.
You thought blurting out “I’m literally in love with you” right after that kiss might have ruined things. But seeing as you’re in his bed…giving him consent to touch you under clothes…and hearing him make the same confession as he places an easily hidden love bite on your collarbone…you think maybe closing shifts won’t be that bad anymore.
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Invisible Smoke - Four
Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he doesn’t run.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N)
Word Count: 10.9k
ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED
A/N: I do not keep a tag list!! Life is still weird but thank you all for sticking with this little story of mine. I really appreciate all the kind words you sent on the last chapter. Only one more chapter to go!
Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Also, Jake is a (stubborn) simp.
Someone had slashed your tires.
Well, you shouldn’t say someone. You knew who had done it. It didn’t exactly take a doctorate to read the context clues—but you were pretty sure your insurance would drop you if you put in another claim, so you begrudgingly prepared to pay the hefty towing fee to the nearest tire shop and fork over even more cash for four new tires. This was one of the few times you wished your little bungalow actually had a garage. And god, you were so tired of this. So tired of the mind games he thought he was playing with you. He thought he was clever. But it was all just so repetitive. You had half a mind to just wait, out in the open, to let him do what he wanted just so it would be over.
It had only been two days since the dog fight football game and the following get together at the Hard Deck. Two days since you caught Jake’s eye at the water’s edge and felt your entire chest twist. He knew now. He knew what you were hiding.
You hadn’t been able to read the look in his eyes but Bradley had taken you aside before you slipped away for the night and basically told you that Jake, for better or for worse, was wanting and willing to help. “Give him a chance, Punch. Don’t you think he deserves that, at least? And you deserve to be happy.”
“When did you become a fortune cookie, Bradley?”
But you wanted to believe him. You did.
But Luke had made you glaringly aware that you weren’t really capable of having a relationship aside from a handful of hours with someone who’d forget your name by morning. You had expected to feel some sort of relief in knowing that Jake hadn’t wanted to wash his hands of you after learning about Luke, but all it did was make you feel like you were painting an even larger target on Jake’s back. He really did want to play hero, didn’t he?
You pushed the thought away as you texted Natasha, telling her you’d be late for brunch and she was quick to tell you not to worry about the tow, she’d send one of the boys to get you to the tire shop. You were expecting Bob and his reliable GMC; he’d been invited to brunch as well anyway.
But a familiar Ford F-250 pulled up instead and Jake stepped out of the cab, looking like a GQ model in a tight Henley and jeans that hugged his thighs a little too well to be fair. He looked at your car and your destroyed tires for just a moment before turning his gaze to you. Your heart gave an answering leap but you tried to not let it show and rolled your shoulders back as he took wide strides toward you.
“Did he do anything else? Did you check your windows-”
“You shouldn’t be here.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even pretend to think of a more polite greeting.
Jake arched an eyebrow before setting his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s just too damn bad, Punch. I am here and I’m not leaving until you tell me what's going on. Now, did anything else happen?”
You wanted to send him away. Wanted to keep him safe. But he was here. He was here and looking at you with those stupidly beautiful green eyes. “It’s just the tires,” you muttered, giving in. At least in this regard. You could handle everything else later.
Jake’s mouth set in a thin line before he moved to look at your tires again. He dug at one of the tears, the edge of his finger easily passing through the ruined rubber. “Jesus.”
Perhaps you should have been surprised when he turned back to the bed of his truck and pulled out a tire and then another and another until four new tires were stacked neatly beside your car. But you had a feeling Jake would always be three steps ahead of you. Infuriating.
“Please tell me you didn’t buy me new tires.”
“All right. I won’t tell you that.”
“Seresin, you can’t be serious. Tell me how much I owe you.”
Jake leaned forward just enough to steal the keys from your hands and popped open your trunk before handing them back. “I don’t want your money.”
“Well, that’s too fucking bad,” you retorted as you followed him to the back of your car. “Tires are expensive! I can afford it. Just let me pay you! You’re already saving me money by not making me take a tow truck. And I might actually make it to brunch on time because of you, too. If you don’t give me an amount, I’ll have to guess.”
Jake moved the mat in your trunk and found your jack and tire iron and then gently grasped your hand that you’d set on the lip of your trunk and moved it before closing it. He then tugged you closer with that damn dimpled smirk and stared down at you with his stupid green eyes. “I’m not taking your money.”
“I will shove money into your pockets at the most inopportune moments and ruin every conquest you set your eyes on.”
But the threat fell flat as Jake’s smirk widened. “So, you’re planning on sticking your hands down my pants…repeatedly?”
Heat washed over you in an angry wave and you pulled your hands out from under his with a grimace instead of a snarl. “Only you would say something like that.”
His smirk continued as he stepped back and set the jack beneath your car and started to twist. “I’m not taking your money.”
“I’m paying for your drinks at the Hard Deck forever.”
“No.”
As he twisted the jack, your eyes were drawn (inevitably) to how his sleeves strained with his moving muscles. That shirt was fighting for its life and you were ogling him like a piece of meat (again). This whole situation was ridiculous! The man who’d tried to kill you twice had slashed your tires and you were flirting (possibly, maybe) with Jake like you didn’t have a care in the world. All of this was wrong. And incredibly stupid.
“Whatever. I’ll do what I want,” you lamely replied, hoping it sounded stronger than it felt.
“I’m sure you will, Punch.” Each word was dripping with something you couldn’t and wouldn’t name and you hated that Jake was able to easily have you smiling when he was there to fix a problem you created.
The tires were changed out within an hour and you invited Jake inside for a glass of water and asked if he wanted to tag along to brunch, it was the last you could do, right?
“I wouldn’t want to intrude-”
“You’re not intruding. Bob’ll be there, too.” The brunch had been an impromptu plan anyway, cobbled together while you’d worked on Natasha and Bob’s jet and listened to Maverick and Cyclone berate the Top Gun students who had started another fight on the tarmac (apparently having learned nothing from the dog fight football games). You’d just been happy your pilots hadn’t been caught in the crossfire this time.
Jake looked at you over his half-finished glass of water and you had to keep yourself from shrinking away from his gaze. His glass clinked against the linoleum as he finished and you tried not to notice how he licked his lips free of the last few droplets of water. “So?” You pushed out, trying to keep your voice level. “Wanna come along?”
Jake’s silence turned at something in your stomach and Bradley’s not-at-all true observation was echoing at the back of your mind before Jake’s smirk returned. “You’re going to try to pay for brunch, aren’t you?”
You hadn’t even thought about it but… “Well, I invited you, so-”
“No.”
You groaned, snatching the glass from him and setting it in your dishwasher as Jake chuckled behind you. “You’re being a child.”
Jake rounded the corner, pushing further into the kitchen behind you, and crossed his arms over his chest (and no you weren’t looking at his arms again). “Why won’t you let me do anything nice for you?”
You frowned and matched his stance and crossed your arms, too. “I let you do nice things. You came with me to Junior’s party with me.”
“After you drove me there and tried to have me take credit for your gift and you introduced me to that group of brass to help me with my career.”
“That was a coincidence.”
“But you still did it.” He stepped closer and you hated that it was instinctual to take a step back, too. “Want to tell me why everything I do for you has to be reciprocal?”
That wasn’t the question you were expecting and your fingernails dug into the meat of your arm as you tried to keep your face neutral. “There’s give and take to everything. And I… You should just let me pay you.”
“I’m not gonna let you pay me, Punch. And you’re going to learn that not everything is a give and take. Who taught you that, anyway?”
God. You hated this. You hated these questions and the soft look in his eyes. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters,” Jake scoffed.
“Why?”
You could see Jake’s jaw clench, tendons working and tightening. But as quickly as it started, it stopped. He just shook his head and the tense silence in the kitchen continued to stretch until it was finally broken by Jake’s next question. “Are we ever going to talk about it?”
And you knew what he was asking. And you wanted to hate that he was connecting dots that you had tried to erase. “What is there to say? You know everything now.”
“I heard it from Rooster, not you. It is your story, Punch.”
“Rooster knows it just as well as I do, I think,” you muttered with a shrug, trying not to shrink away from him. “What else is there for you to know?”
Jake stepped forward, enveloping you in the scent of his expensive cologne and tinge of jet fuel that seemed to cling to him as he closed the distance to stand at your side and brush his arm against yours. “I want to know everything. Haven’t I told you that?”
You gnawed at your lip for a moment before stepping away from the counter. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Luke was an asshole then and he’s an asshole now. I should’ve seen the signs, I get that. I do. But he was so good when he wanted to be. And after being an afterthought for most of my life, it was nice to pretend that someone was choosing me.” This was just pathetic. Stop talking. Stop talking. If he hadn’t thought of washing his hands of you before, he was surely doing it now.
“What do you mean you were an afterthought?”
You rolled your shoulders and turned just enough to look at him before glancing at the little clock above your oven. “Doesn’t matter now. But, if we leave in the next five minutes, we’ll probably beat Natasha and Bob to brunch. So, are you coming?”
**
The ride was mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant Phoenix had picked overlooking the water. But Jake knew you were thinking about telling him something else as you sat in his passenger seat, watching the road pass your window. So, he just told himself to be patient. Again. It was a bright spot to finally know what you looked like in his truck. God knows he’s imagined it more than he’d like to admit, like some lovesick teenager.
You were picking at your cuticles without taking your eyes off the passing scenery. Jake had never seen you nervous, not like this. Even when the Daggers had to ship out for a short deployment and you had to watch them all take off from the carrier, you didn’t act like this. He watched you lean forward just a bit and your eyes narrowed and then it clicked. You weren’t watching the world go by—you were keeping an eye on the cars following the truck in the side view mirror. You were making sure Luke wouldn’t try to run you off the road again.
Jake looked in the rear view mirror and saw sedans, coupes, and a handful of SUVs, and a smaller number of trucks. But not a single black charger. It was clear for now. But you still picked at your cuticles and didn’t peel your eyes from the window.
Jake reached out and set a hand over yours, stilling your picking. You jumped under the touch and Jake curled his fingers over yours a little tighter, trying to anchor you to something else a little less destructive. “We’re okay, Punch, all right?”
You looked at him and Jake hated that he had to look at the road for safety purposes when you searched his face for something. “For now,” you said in return, once again turning to look out at the cars.
Jake squeezed your hand again and didn’t let go even as you muttered the next handful of directions to the restaurant. He awkwardly shifted into park and took the keys out of the ignition after finding a spot in the steadily filling lot. Your shoulders were slumped as you turned back to him, face unreadable except for the pinch between your brows that he wanted to smooth with a brush of his thumb.
(Maybe one day.)
“All right. We’re gonna go in there, eat our weight in overpriced waffles and then I’m going to take you home and double check your windows and locks. Okay?”
Your eyes swept up to look up at him and Jake felt that familiar warmth starting to unfurl in his chest. Your thumb swept over his knuckles but he wasn’t sure if you were aware you were even doing it. “I can’t afford to buy you your weight in waffles.”
Jake barked out a laugh and shook his head. “You’re not going to buy me brunch. Stop trying.” He had to bite back the pleased smile he felt growing when he heard your gasp after he raised your joined hands and pressed a kiss to your fingers.
“You are ridiculous.” Your voice was tight as it wheedled out from between your lips before you (slowly) pulled your hand from his and reached for the door handle. “C’mon. We need to get on the list.”
The air was tinged with the scent of sea salt and syrup as he followed you into the glass and metal building, already teeming with people. You were quick to give your name and group size to the hostess who said it would probably be a fifteen minute wait. Just as you turned to grab one of the oddly shaped bar stools near the door to it for your name to be called, Phoenix was striding in, too. She pushed her sunglasses up her hair before sweeping you into a hug with a loud kiss to your cheek. “I knew you’d beat me here.” Then her dark eyes dragged to Jake as he stood behind you. “Hangman. What’re you doing here?”
“He drove me,” you said. “I figured it would be fine.”
“Of course it is,” Phoenix said, waving it away but Jake knew the gleam in her eyes. She wasn’t quite finished. “You two arrived together?” She asked, eyes bouncing between you and Jake.
“Ken fixed my tires. Figured I could treat him to brunch as a thank you.”
Jake had to groan at that, knocking his hand into your hip and earring a halfhearted swat at his arm in retaliation. “I told you, you’re not paying for me.”
Phoenix hummed and anchored her gaze on Jake and he fought the urge to stand a little straighter. “Yeah. That was awful nice of him. When you told me that the neighbor kid slashed your tires, I thought Hangman would be a gentleman and drive you to the tire shop. Not fix them himself.”
Neighbor kid. You had lied to Phoenix? Granted, her text had just said that your tires had been slashed and that you’d needed help—it wasn’t exactly filled with details. Jake had assumed that she had known. But that didn’t matter now and he plastered his well-used smirk on his face. “Well, I’m a-”
“Don’t stroke your own ego, Bagman.” She then glanced at something over his shoulder and smiled. “Bob just got here. Bob!” She threw up a hand to grab the WSO’s attention and he jogged toward the group when he spotted her. He nearly collided with a waitress and they both apologized—profusely—before going their separate ways. By the time Bob reached their little group, his face was a vibrant and familiar shade of red.
“Nearly swept that pretty girl off her feet, Baby on Board.” Jake braced for the hit he knew was coming and winced when Phoenix’s fist collided with his arm.
The group was seated soon after and Jake had to bite back a grumble when Bob was the one to pull out your chair for you when you reached the table. When Jake went to do the same to Phoenix, she hit him again.
Bob was nearly the shade of a strawberry when he realized the woman he’d nearly bowled over would be your waitress and nearly dropped his silverware roll when he noticed her striding over to the table. Food was ordered—both you and Jake ordered waffles while Phoenix wanted to try the brioche French toast and Bob wanted eggs Benedict with steak—and mimosas (and pineapple juice for Bob) were poured as Phoenix regaled the table with her run-in with a guy at the gym on base. The Ensign hadn’t realized Phoenix a) outranked him and b) wasn’t interested in bulging muscles and whatever the younger man could(n’t) provide. The interaction ended when Phoenix “politely” challenged him to a friendly competition to see who could handle more weight while doing hip thrusters. Phoenix started out with thirty pounds more than him and he called her a dyke so she had him barred from the gym and probably had a meeting with his commanding officers on Monday, too.
You giggled and tipped your mimosa flute into Phoenix’s before you both took a sip. It was good to see you smile like that.
The waitress came by a few minutes later with the food and she was quick to divvy up the plates but Jake watched her make sure Bob’s was the last plate and she stood at his side and carefully set it down, making sure to bend down just enough to brush against his arm. “Careful, the plate is hot,” she practically purred.
(Phoenix quickly had Jake’s laugh turning into a poorly disguised cough when she sent him a look across the table.)
“I’ll be careful. I can handle it.”
Then the waitress actually giggled and stood straight, setting her hand on Bob’s shoulder for just a moment. “I’m sure you can. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” She then turned and walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips which Bob completely missed because he was busy unrolling his silverware.
The group watched him as he carefully cut into his meal and shoved a bite between his lips. He went to take another when he noticed the stares. “What?”
“Robert,” you started, voice strained to avoid a giggle. “She was flirting with you.”
His fork froze before it reached his mouth.”No, she wasn’t. She told me the plate was hot.”
Phoenix reached over and patted her back seater’s shoulder. “Oh, Bob.”
The other man’s blush returned and he shoved the bite between his lips. “How is telling me that the plate is hot flirting?”
Jake shook his head and fought a smile of his own. “Listen, do you like her?”
Bob chanced a glance at the waitress at the hostess booth and immediately ducked his head when she caught him and wagged her fingers at him with a wink. “She’s beautiful.”
“But?” Jake prodded, hearing a slight hesitation. He had always been good at reading people (you were an exception), and Jake had played therapist to a handful of the Daggers since he proved he could be someone other than Hangman. He wanted Bob to be happy.
“But I don’t know. She looks like she’d eat me alive.” He fiddled with his fork. “Can we talk about something else?”
Jake was the one who shifted the conversation to the insufferable group of Top Gun pilots that would thankfully be leaving soon enough. A friendly bet was placed on who everyone thought would actually get the trophy and Jake tried not to smile too much when Bob knocked his foot into his as a quiet thank you and you, seemingly unaware of Bob’s quiet gratitude, set your hand over Jake’s arm for a moment in your own show of appreciation. As soon as it happened, it was gone again.
That was okay. Jake was determined to have it happen again.
Brunch continued on and finished after another round of drinks and splitting a funnel cake that the waitress insisted they try. Jake was sure the woman pouted after not receiving Bob’s phone number when he signed his check but he wouldn’t mention it. Jake liked this strange bit of normalcy. With you. He even if both Bob and Phoenix made vague threats against his life if he hurt you. Jake was determined to have more of these moments with you. Even if you grumbled about Jake hustling to get to the truck before you so he could open your door.
The tension in the cab on the way to brunch was absent now and Jake didn’t even care when you teased him about his choice in radio stations—calling him a cliche for listening to early Tim McGraw. But you said it with a laugh and Jake had to laugh, too. He liked that it was you who brought up Bob and his interactions with the waitress.
“I want Bob to be happy. And he’s mentioned once or twice that he’d like to have a family.”
Jake thought for a moment before the perfect person popped into his thoughts. “I know a girl.”
“No, you don’t. I don’t trust your taste in women.”
And Jake had to laugh at that. Had to. You were his taste in women. But the person he had in mind for Bob would be perfect. “She’s a CPA. Wears glasses. And she only drinks ginger ale despite helping Penny with the Hard Deck’s taxes. And she’s the only person outside of Texas that I trust with my tax return.”
Your face scrunched and Jake knew you were thinking it over. “Just because they both wear glasses and have an affinity for Seagram’s doesn’t mean they’d be a good match.”
“Just trust me. It might take a minute to get her to look him in the eye-”
“She’s shy?”
“So shy. It’s adorable. And just what Baby on Board needs.”
You scowled at him but he knew you didn’t really mean it when you knocked your shoulder into his over the center console a moment later. He eventually pulled into your driveway and threw the truck into park before turning to you but you were scrambling out of your seat and up to your front door before he could even get a word in edgewise.
Oh.
Jake wasn’t sure if he’d ever been rejected as soundly as that before. But then he saw you waving him forward from your front stoop and Jake nearly clocked himself in the face with the seatbelt buckle as he hurried to follow you inside. He shut your door behind him, engaging just two out of the five locks as you hurried toward something just down the hall.
“Punch?”
“Just a moment!” You yelled in return.
Jake resisted the urge to settle on the couch again, like he’d done weeks ago. Everything seemed different now. You weren’t trying to push him away and he could hear you shuffling something in the other room and he was suddenly struck with a daydream of coming home to you, waiting for you to notice his presence and smiling when you saw him. “You’re home!” As soon as the vision came, it was gone, and Jake shook himself a little as if that would help him forget what he’d conjured up. What he’d wanted since the moment you first called him Ken, even if he never admitted it out loud.
You walked back into the living room and slapped something down onto the small table you had lining the back of your couch.
“Whatcha got there, Punch?”
Your answering smile was all teeth, like a cat who got the cream and Jake saw that it was a fifty dollar bill as it peeked from between your fingers. “Well, I added up how many miles it is from base, to my house, to the restaurant, then back to my house and then guessed on how many miles you get per gallon. And, you use premium gas, right? Either way, this should be enough for gas, but if you use diesel, this should cover it.” You slapped another fifty atop the first after pulling it from your back pocket.
Jake looked at the stack of cash and then back at you before he sighed, a long put-upon sigh that he knew was obnoxious but it was worth it when he heard you try to stifle a laugh. God. You were relentless.
“First, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you’re awful at math. Like, so bad.”
“Hey!”
“And second, I’m still not taking your money.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“I’m being a friend, Punch. Friends drive each other around and help them when they need it. And I’m willing to bet-“
“I’ll take that bet.”
Jake continued on, ignoring you, “-that you wouldn’t expect to be paid back if our places were switched.”
You pulled your lips into your mouth for a moment and drummed your fingers against the money. “I lost that bet. Guess you’ll have to take the money.”
Jake groaned but he could feel a laugh starting to bubble in his chest. “You’re impossible.”
**
It was too soon to call this a victory, but you were sure you were closing in on one. He would take the money and then you could pretend to feel fine about everything he’d done for you. Sure.
“Actually, I have something you could do if you’re so hellbent on paying me back.” Before you could ask what he meant, he was unlocking your door and jogging out to his truck and pulling something out, tucking it behind his back as he returned. “Can you sign this for me?”
Then he dropped a purple book in your hand and your stomach dropped to your feet as you looked at the gold lettering across the cover. “You snooped!” You said, too embarrassed to be angry. You held the book up to your chest as if that would guard you from his knowing look or the embarrassment starting to churn your stomach.
“You knew I would! Why’re you surprised?” His smile was back and he took a step toward you. You took a responding step back until he was crowding you against your bookshelf, hands landing on the shelves on either side of your shoulders. And it could have been a threatening stance, an unnerving cage, but all you felt was safe. Safe as he blotted out the rest of the world and it was just you and him and your books in the quiet of your home.
You should not feel like this, you knew that. It was stupid and dangerous and you couldn’t stop it. What had happened to your resolve that you had just yesterday for keeping him at arm's length?
Your fingers drummed against the paperback and you hurriedly flipped it open when your eyes tracked down to his mouth. Oh. “Should I sign it ‘To Ken?’ Or-”
“Could you actually sign it for my sister Mia? She reads your books in her book club.”
“Oh.” Was all you could say. That was…that was actually really nice to know. You knew people read your books; Danny had framed a newspaper clipping showing your second book reaching a top ten spot one of the Best Sellers lists and had gifted it to you for your last birthday. They were mildly popular, you knew that. But to actually be confronted with the fact that someone you vaguely knew was reading your books was something else. You reached back and grabbed one of the pens you kept in a cup on the shelf. “Mia? She’s your oldest sister, right?” A quick glance up at Jake had your heart twisting. His look was too soft. Too happy.
“Yeah, Punch. That’s her.”
You took the time to write your pseudonym with extra flair and then added a heart next to Mia’s name, too. “Is this for her birthday or anything?”
“She’s…” Jake paused for a moment. “She’s just going through a rough patch right now. Your books make her smile.”
The pen stalled on the page for just a moment before you shoved at his chest to get him to back up just enough to grab at your ARC for your newest book and quickly scrawled, Wishing you expensive champagne and good memories! Happy reading! You then signed your name again and added a half dozen hearts next to Mia’s name at the top of the page. You slapped both books against Jake’s chest with a frown. “That book hasn’t been released yet, so I may get in a bit of trouble with my publisher if she tells anyone.”
Jake’s hands covered yours on the books and the toe of his shoe knocked into your socked feet as he moved closer, dragging your attention back to his stupidly handsome face again. “She won’t tell anyone but I know I’ll probably get an earful about how I got them.” His thumbs brushed against your knuckles and you would swear that you could feel it behind your ribs. “Where’d you get that name anyway?”
You almost snorted at the way he phrased that question, like you found it on the side of a cereal box. “My parents were obsessed with Stephen King—they actually met at a book club specifically for King’s books. My sister, Georgie, was named after the kid who got their arm ripped off at the beginning of It. And my brother, Danny, is named after the kid in The Shining, Danny Torrance.”
“And you? I don’t think I’ve read your name in his books.”
It was a fair enough question. King had dozens of books and Jake didn’t seem like the type to clamor for the newest release. “I was named by my grandparents after they discovered the reasoning behind my sister’s name. If my parents wanted to stay in the will, I had to have a name they picked. Of course, when my brother was born, my parents picked something a little more innocuous so they wouldn’t rock the boat again. But, anyway, to actually answer your question; I took my siblings’ names as a sort of thank you to them. Georgie became Georgia and I took Danny’s literary counterpart’s last name. And Georgia Torrance was born. I wrote most of my books when I had downtime on deployments. I took a chance and sent it off to an agent and I got a nice contract with a moderately respectable publishing house. It isn’t Stephen King money by any means, but I can upgrade my plane ticket to Business Class if I wanted to once or twice a year.”
“Your parents must’ve gotten a kick out of that.”
You tried to fight the sigh you felt growing in your throat but lost. You also lost the wherewithal to keep a single secret from him. “I don’t know. I don’t really talk to them.”
“What?”
“After Danny got sick, all of their attention was on him, which I understand. I do. But I was still just a kid who needed her parents every once in a while. But it was like I ceased to exist to them until they remembered I could help with the hospital bills. Georgie was already out of the house and getting her degree and would call but it wasn’t the same. I kinda gave up on having a relationship with my parents after they forgot about my rowing meet and I waited to be picked up for three hours before eventually just walking home.”
“Punch-”
And once you started, you couldn’t stop, like a can of pop shaken and bursting. “Danny was hooked up to like six different machines and was high off his ass and he apologized for all the…all the bullshit. I told him it was unnecessary. He was sick. I’m just happy he’s healthy again.”
God. You really knew how to ruin every moment, didn’t you?
Jake set the books on the shelf just beside your shoulder but was quick to lean over you again and you hated how Jake really was a certifiable blueprint for a romantic literary hero. You could write a single description of him in your next book and you’d know it would skyrocket to the top of the Best Sellers lists but you had been actively avoiding trying to piece together a story from your life. And, as if he knew you were debating something, the bastard actually propped his other arm up on the bookcase and leaned over you. Oh god. He was doing the lean and was going to ask you something about your fucked up childhood.
Shit.
Alarm bells were ringing in your head, letting you know that this moment could be disastrous. So, you decided to not let it go on any longer. “Jesus. Sorry. I really know how to kill a good time, huh? I think I’ve taken up quite enough of your time for the day. Let me know what Mia thinks of the books, okay?”
You ducked beneath his arm, intent on leading him to the door, but Jake grasped your hand and pulled you to a stop. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that again. Don’t shut me out. I’m happy you feel like you can tell me stuff like that, that you’re comfortable enough to trust me with that. Don’t pull away again. Not from me.”
You knew that if you looked at him right now, his green eyes would be wide and pleading. So, you just didn’t look. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now. I don’t know why you’re doing this, Jake.”
“Doing what?” He asked softly, as softly as his hand on yours.
“Buying me tires? Driving me around? Being…being this fucking nice to me all the time when I’ve only been a dick to you?” You asked as you felt your chin wobble. “Why?”
Jake was quiet for a moment. Just a moment. “You know why.”
“No! No, I don’t because…” You couldn’t finish the sentence because then it was real, it would be real and you didn’t know how to deal with that again. You looked up at him and tried to remember what you were protecting him from. Pulling your hand out of his, you set your hands on your hips. “Because you can’t.”
Jake’s shoulders rolled before his lips set in a thin line. “I do. And I know you feel the same.”
You scoffed and tried to ignore the warmth in your chest that he was right. He felt the same. Wouldn’t that just be the worst? “You really think that highly of yourself? You’re so sure that I-”
Jake leaned closer and the rest of your argument stalled. You could smell the mint on his breath from the stupid toothpick he was chewing on in the truck just beneath the warmth of his cologne. God. He was intoxicating. You almost hated him for a moment because every ounce of fight you had drained out of you. “Ken.”
“Tell me to stop and I will.” He moved closer. Closer. Closer.
His warm hand skirted up your arm until it settled against the gentle arc of muscle between your neck and shoulder and the other settled on your hip. You could feel each of his fingers pressing into your skin like a brand. Every breath he took brushed against your mouth and you licked your lips without a thought as he leaned even closer.
“Last chance.” You could feel his smile against your mouth, growing with each syllable.
And you had to smile. Had to because he was your Ken and this felt inevitable. Jake was inevitable. “Do your worst.”
He kissed you and it was instantly all consuming. Surely, he could feel your smile, too. You actually laughed against his mouth as your hands pressed against his chest. Jake pulled back just enough for you to see his smile before he kissed you again, catching your bottom lip between his and tugging to have you gasping. His stupid, perfect teeth nipped at the skin and he was quick to soothe the sting with a flick of his tongue.
Then you were moving backward, guided by his gentle movements, until your spine went flat against the wall beside your bookshelves. The kiss was all smiling lips and searching tongues as Jake held you tight. Everything was warm and tinged with the mint on his tongue and Jake Jake Jake.
His thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw and he sighed against your panting mouth. “So fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and you could feel it curling in your stomach.
But your entire body seized when you felt his hand move to wrap around your throat as his mouth continued to work against yours. You couldn’t help it; you flinched. The kiss ended abruptly as you pulled back despite you not wanting it to end. But it couldn’t be helped. Not yet. You watched an array of emotions flash across Jake’s face before it settled on despair.
“Fuck.” The single syllable was wrenched from his throat as he took a step back and his hands fell back to his sides and left you cold. “Fuck, Punch, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I-”
“W-wait…I just…” How could you even phrase this without sounding unhinged? “I just need a moment.” Your next breath rattled in your lungs but you still reached for his hand and raised it again, moving it just enough for his fingers to encircle your throat once more. The roughened planes and angles of his hand had you shivering but you managed to drag your eyes up to his and tried to not show how nervous you actually felt. “It… you can, if you want. I’d actually prefer to have some good memories of something like this instead of-”
The rest of your rambling was cut off as his lips pressed against yours. The grip on your throat grew a little more insistent, a little heavier, but nothing stronger than just a simple weight, an anchor at your pulse. His other hand smoothed up your arm to curl over your cheek just as he pried your lips apart, delving into your mouth to steal the building whine from your throat.
Your heart hammered behind your ribs as you felt the warmth of Jake’s hand bleed through your shirt as his palm brushed the side of your chest. He moved forward and your legs instinctively parted to accommodate the thigh he was shoving between yours and your next breath caught in your throat when the denim brushed against the crux of your thighs.
“Fuck,” you hissed when Jake’s lips seared a path across your cheek and down your throat to bite at your thrumming pulse. You hadn’t even remembered when your hands had dropped to wrinkle his shirt again but you still pulled him closer as every nerve ending sparked. And then-
“Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!”
Immediately, you pulled away from Jake with a grimace as ABBA’s song continued to fill the air. “Oh Jesus, that’s Natasha’s ringtone. She never calls.” You ducked beneath his arm for the second time tonight and pulled your phone off its perch on the kitchen counter and answered it as you heard Jake sigh. Turning to look at him, you saw his head drop to his chest for a moment before standing straight again and following in your footsteps toward the kitchen.
“I asked Rooster out and I think he thinks it is just as a friends thing and I want to bash my head against the wall.” Tasha screeched, words running together in a rush. She continued on, explaining that somehow she and Bradley had been roped into helping Penny restock the Hard Deck before opening today and Natasha had (finally) acted on her (reciprocated) feelings after Rooster had been his usually flirty self the entire time and then dragged Natasha to the piano and made her sing along to Elton John’s Your Song. Jesus.
You looked over at Jake to see him looking at you with another soft look on his face and a bit of pink in his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him.
He waved it away before stealing a quick kiss, too, that had your heart rate picking up again.
“Punch? You there?”
You pushed out a breath and shook your head as you pressed a hand to Jake’s chin, keeping him from doing it again. You could feel his self satisfied smirk against your fingers. “Yeah. I’m here. And, um, I don’t know. I think you’d be surprised with Bradley. He’s probably picking out his nicest Hawaiian shirt in preparation.”
Tasha groaned but you had to smile because Jake nipped at your fingers. “You think?”
“I do. It is gonna be great. I know it.”
She sighed, crackling the line, but eventually agreed. “He can’t be that oblivious right?” She asked, making you both laugh. “Also, don’t think I’m forgetting about you and Hangman coming to brunch together. We’re gonna talk on Monday.”
“You don’t forget anything, Tasha. I’m well aware.”
You eventually said your goodbyes after promising her you would talk to her on Monday and then dropped your phone on the counter again and your hand from Jake’s mouth.
“I never thought you’d be a tease.” His tone let you know he was joking but you also could have guessed with the smirk pushing at his mouth, too.
Your jaw dropped for a moment before an embarrassed giggle rippled out of you. “I said I was sorry! I was worried!” Biting your lip as you looked at him, you shook your head. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
“It was quite the moment, huh?” His smirk had fallen to a soft smile despite his self assured words.
“Yeah, it was.” You didn’t even want to tease him now but then a small voice whispered at the back of your mind that it wasn’t a moment to him. After all, who would want-
“Steak or seafood?” He asked, knocking the rest of your thoughts right out of your head.
“What?”
“I have a list of restaurants that I want to take you to, if you’re willing to let me pay and bring you flowers.” The usual bravado that bled through all of his words wavered now. Was he nervous?
“Sounds like you’re asking me out on a date, Ken.”
“I’m trying here, Punch. So? Steak or seafood.”
Hope and happiness were blooming and twisting and growing within the confines of your ribs now. He wanted to take you out on a date. “I’m allergic to shellfish,” was all you could say through your smile.
“Steak it is. I’ll update my list when I get home.” He reached out and swept his thumb across the slope of your cheek and you found yourself leaning into the touch a little more. Jake seemed content to just hold your face in his hand for a moment before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I should go. I want to do this right with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to wine and dine you, darlin’. Want to earn those lips of yours again,” he said as his thumb moved to press at the heated skin of your bottom lip. “You deserve it. And I want to be the one to give it to you.”
For just a moment, you worried that Jake would hear how hard your heart was beating. No one had ever said anything like that to you before. “Oh.”
This was different. Jake was different. You just had to give him permission to show you.
“I’d like that.”
He smiled and stepped back, hand dropping back to his side. “You’re a good friend to Phoenix, by the way. Bradshaw, too.”
You smiled again. “They’re good to me. All of you have been.” Slowly, you herded him toward the door, knowing he had a plan.
He stopped at the door, just after you undid the locks. “Does Phoenix know?”
You shook your head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “It’s hard enough to be taken seriously in the Navy as a woman. She had her own battles, Luke was mine. I always thought she was so strong and, for a while, I thought she’d just see me as weak if she knew what I’d put up with. But I know now that is an unfair thought. Tasha is and always has been one of my best friends and staunchest supporters. I should tell her, right? And maybe I will, after all of this is over. I don’t…I don’t want anyone else I care about to be wrapped up in this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” And you tried to ignore the sinking feeling that you had once again put Jake in Luke’s crosshairs.
But this time had to be different. It had to be.
Jake shook his head and cupped his hands at the back of your head before touching his forehead to yours. “We’re going to finish this, okay? We will.”
You nodded and smiled despite it all when he pressed another quick kiss to your forehead—it was like he couldn’t stop kissing you. And you weren’t about to complain. “Get home safe, Ken.”
You watched him get into his truck and waved as he pulled out and you knew he was telling you to lock your doors through the windshield. Your phone rang again just as he disappeared down the road and you knew by the way Jerry Lewis blared that it was now Bradley calling.
**
It had only been two days since Jake kissed you and had promised you a date. Two days and it was like the entirety of Top Gun was trying to keep you apart. You barely saw each other after he got roped into helping Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson into looking over the files of the next hopeful batch of aviators who could be called to San Diego. But it was fine. Sure. It wasn’t as if you could walk in holding his hand; you were still in the Navy and there were still protocols and rules you needed to follow. You had a feeling you and Jake would be breaking a lot of them.
You were kept busy with repairing Harvard’s jet after he managed to land safely after a bird strike. Your lunch breaks and evenings were spent talking to either Natasha or Bradley about their upcoming date-not-date while not revealing that you knew what the other was thinking. You did, however, mention to Bradley that Rueben and Mickey had started a betting pool about how long it would take Bradley to admit who he was in love with after Mickey spotted him with a pad of paper during lunch which was apparently filled with a speech about loving someone for years. You then spent the next hour workshopping the speech he was going to say to Natasha. It was beautiful and heartfelt and filled with analogies you tried to trim down (gently). He was still, annoyingly, assuming that their dinner on Wednesday was not a date in Natasha’s eyes but he was still going to try to confess his feelings and hope for the best.
You knew he’d be over the moon with how Natasha would react.
As Wednesday bled into Thursday, you were nearly dead on your feet but you’d been watching Natasha and Bradley all day, trying to decipher how their date had gone by their body language. You drove home that night without many answers but your phone rang just before you pulled down your street and quickly answered when Natsha’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hello?”
“He said he’s in love with me!”
“Hello, Tasha. How are you? I’ve had a great day. How was yours?”
“Oh, shut up!” She laughed. “I’m freaking out! He said he was in love with me—has been for years, apparently—and all I did was kiss him afterward. That’s not fair, right? I also need to have a speech. I can’t let him win this. I want to do a PowerPoint.” You had to mute your phone at that so she wouldn’t hear you snort. Everything was a competition. “Do you have that picture of me and him from Mav’s birthday last year?”
“I do,” you said, knowing exactly which one she was referencing. It was of Bradley and Natasha at the piano. Bradley had just led everyone through a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for Mav and there was still a flush on his cheeks. Natasha was right next to him in a stunning blue dress and smiling at him. It was the picture you promised to yourself that you would show at their wedding. You rushed inside, pinning the phone between your ear and shoulder and hurriedly shut the door behind you before darting toward your bedroom without bothering to turn on any of the lights—you said you’d drop it off at her apartment as soon as you’d found it. You were going to be in and out. You flopped onto your stomach, overturning the small mountain of pillows you had at the headboard, before grabbing at the storage container beneath the bed frame. You hauled it up and onto the bed and flipped the lid. To your chagrin, your “filing” system was essentially nonexistent when it came to photos and you started to sift through them as Natasha continued to talk, telling you about the date she’d planned and laughing about how much Bradley had stumbled over his speech.
God, it was so nice just to hear her laugh. They were going to be happy together. You knew it.
A door opened and closed slowly in the distance—your neighbor must’ve finally sprayed his door with WD-40 because it didn’t creak. Good. It only took him three years. But your heart nearly stopped when you heard your neighbor’s door open a few seconds later and its distinctive creak filled the night air. Something thumped down the hall and your spine went rigidly straight, still holding the phone to your ear as blood roared in your ears. You hadn’t locked the door. You had been inside for less than five minutes and you hadn’t thought it was necessary–you would have been leaving again soon anyway.
But you should have taken the time. A careless, stupid mistake.
The noise came again and sat up on bed, spilling the pictures in your hold onto your blankets. “Punch?” Natasha asked, pulling your focus. “You still there?”
“I…I think there’s someone in my house,” you whispered. Every part of your body was telling you to run. Right now. But where could you? Your house had one door and the person was in your living room.
Natasha was quiet for just a moment before whispering, “I’m gonna call the cops, okay? You hide.”
“N-no,” you hissed. “Don’t hang up. Stay with me.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll stay on the line with you, but-”
The line went dead with three terrible beeps and you wrenched the phone away from your ear to see ‘Call Lost - Try Again?’ written across the screen. No matter how many times you tried to call or text, nothing went through. The little icon at the top where you usually saw the lines denoting your network was now just a terrible X. The network was either down or whoever had come into your house had turned on a jammer. And you knew which was more plausible—but god, you had never wished for a network outage more.
Slowly, you slid off the bed and into the hall just as you heard the distinctive sound of a boot hitting the corner of your coffee table. Someone was in your house.
**
Mia had loved the books. Apparently her book club had ooh’d and ahh’d over the signed book but she had, as Jake knew she would, kept the copy of your newest book a secret but had rattled off her opinions to Jake. “And I can’t believe you know her!” She squawked on the other end of the line. It had been so good to hear the smile in his sister’s voice again. It was priceless. Jake had also evaded any questions as to who you were–it wasn’t his secret to tell–but he hoped that you’d be the one to tell Mia sooner rather than later.
It had been a good day. For the most part, anyway. He would have preferred to have had more than just a small smile and wave from you for the last few days, but he could be patient.
When Jake’s phone chirped with a new message, he’d expected something from Javy, keeping him up to date about the conversation he was hoping to have with his girlfriend’s father. The ring Jake had helped Javy pick out was burning a hole in his pocket and Jake hoped that his best friend would be able to plan a cool as fuck bachelor party and then make sure the whole wedding goes smoothly.
And maybe he could ask you to be his date. He could dance with you and make you smile and-
Any happy thought he had evaporated when he looked at his phone.
Someone broke into Punch’s house! I’m calling the cops!
Jake was in his truck before he could even think to type out a response and sped toward your house as the group chat started to explode with a barrage of texts he didn’t read. He knew who had broken in. There was only one possible answer.
Jake just hoped he’d get there in time.
**
You needed to get out of the house…or at least get to something you could use as a weapon. The baseball bat you kept near the bookshelves could work, right? Slipping further down the hall, you tried to tell yourself that you could get out of this.
Creak.
You clapped a hand over your mouth as you pressed your spine to the wall, trying to quiet your breathing.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He was in your kitchen. You knew the sound of hard soled shoes on the uneven tiles. Could you make a run for it? Could you trap him in the laundry room? That had to be your only option. You turned the corner into your living room and your stomach fell to your feet.
Luke was standing in your kitchen. Knife in hand. Waiting for you. He looked almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. His brown hair was still cropped short. His brown eyes were still narrowed and cold. His clothes were rumpled designer brands. He hadn’t changed. And that was terrifying.
You dove for the baseball bat, curling your hands around it before you turned and swung blindly. The bat cracked against his arm and Luke yelled, low and guttural as he staggered backward for a moment. But then he was lunging forward and grasping at the bat to wrench it out of your hands. He threw it across the living room and it smacked against the wall, shattering the glass in two frames before knocking them to the floor with a terrible crack. You couldn’t go for it again. There was no way past him now.
You should have aimed for his head.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”
You cringed at the nickname but didn’t take your eyes off the knife in his hand.
Luke didn’t wait for an answer to his question before barreling on. “And look what you’ve done. Got all those nice pins on your shirt, moving up in the ranks, and…” he paused as a smirk slithered across this mouth, “you got my dad’s money. A nice little nest egg.You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you? And you didn’t have to work for any of it.”
He took a step forward and you took one back, ankle colliding with your coffee table.
“And what about me? I’m so glad you asked!” He snarled. “I’ve been dishonorably discharged. And you want to know why?”
“I had nothing to do with that, Luke. W-we had an agreement, remember? I keep my mouth shut and you…you were supposed to stay away from me.”
Luke’s tongue clicked against his teeth before he waved the knife. “You had everything to do with it. That LoA in my file was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I could’ve been given another chance if you had just kept your mouth shut when I told you to back in the-“
“I didn’t say anything. You were going to get Bradley killed!” The words bubbled out of you before you could think of the repercussions.
Luke was on you in a flash. The tip of the knife pressed over your sternum and you could feel it with each labored breath you sucked in between clenched teeth.
“He would’ve been fine! I know how to do my job! You ruined everything and then took my dad's money!” The knife pressed closer closer closer. It started to tear through the thin material of your shirt and shallowly cut your skin. The whimper you felt blooming in your throat died when you saw the gleam in Luke’s eyes.
Before you could even stop to think of an alternative, you threw your hands up and caught the knife. The edge sank through the delicate skin between your fingers and into your palm but you didn’t recoil. Couldn’t. You were only able to drag the knife down, the tip cutting against the skin just above your stomach.
Fresh pain bloomed across your face and it took you a moment to realize that Luke had slapped you. And then he did it again, making sure to send your head flying backward to slam into the wall hard enough and have stars dancing in front of your eyes. Your grip almost fell, loosening a fraction, and just for a moment everything was silent.
Just a moment.
You’d never be able to describe the pain that bloomed as Luke moved and drove the knife in, slotting it between your ribs and twisting with a vicious flick of his wrist. Your next breath stalled just behind your tongue as every nerve ending exploded with heat and teeth and a terrible popping sensation bubbled beneath your skin. “L-Luke…”
He pushed the knife deeper as he pressed his cheek to yours in an echo of the hugs he used to give you. “I used to miss you, you know. Did you miss me? I treated you so well. I was good to you. So good. I gave you everything.” The knife rocked back and forth and you felt the ridge of it with each movement. You felt all of it. Your grip faltered against the knife gain but you knew you couldn’t drop your hold.
He would kill you.
“And you had to ruin it. You ruined my life.”
“L-Luke…”
“I need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me you know what you did. You had this coming. All of it.”
“I didn’t,” you wheezed. Your chest was collapsing in on itself like you had a boar sitting on your sternum.
“Say it! You don’t get to play victim this time. You were the one who ruined my life.”
“You were a d-drunk! I did all that work for you until you told me you’d kill me if I made you l-look bad again!” Each word was a crack against your ribs, sharp and biting, but you couldn’t stop. This would be your only chance to say this, you knew it. If you were going to die tonight, you were going to let him know what you really thought of him. “You…” You sucked in a breath that only served to make you ache. “You only got through basic because your daddy bribed someone. You only got into the Navy at all because he made a phone call to someone after you failed the ASVAB. You…you fail at everything you do. You were a shitty AD. And you couldn’t kill me.” Blood dribbled out of your mouth and you felt it slid down your chin. “Twice. So you better make this count.”
Luke’s teeth glinted in the low light and he ripped the knife out only to plunge it back in. You felt the blade scrape against the edge of your hip as you let out a scream that fizzled out to a gurgle as more blood filled your mouth.
“I’ll make it count!” Luke seethed as he drove the knife deeper and pushed you into the wall.
Everything burned. Everything ached. And all you could do was scream as your knees knocked together, strength dribbling out of you with each frantic pulse of your heart.
Luke leaned forward to press his forehead against yours and the knife twisted. “Do you feel it, baby? Do you feel me inside you?” His breath smelled of the expensive cognac you knew he liked to guzzle and rolled your stomach.
“Luke.” You didn’t want to die looking into his eyes. You didn’t want to die at all, but you weren’t going to have your last earthly memory be of Luke and his cold eyes, so you shut your eyes as the tips of your fingers started to tingle.
The screech of a siren broke through the haze of your mind. You had to laugh but that, too, was cut short when Luke pulled the knife out and rushed toward the window to see the night sky filled with red and blue lights. You crumpled. Your hands slapped against the floor for just a moment before you slumped in a heap against the carpet as your arms gave out.
You vaguely heard your front door slam against the wall and knock another picture from its perch. There was an answering sound of glass shattering before warm, rough hands gently grasped at your shoulders. You struggled for just a moment when your scrambled brain thought Luke had come back to make sure you were dead. Unfocused eyes barely registered Jake kneeling above you.
“Punch? Punch, c’mon darlin’. There you are.” His voice was muffled but you felt yourself smiling anyway as everything started to prickle like you’d pinned your limbs beneath your weight for too long. The smile quickly died when Jake’s hands clamped down over your wounds and a surprised yelp punched out from between your teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I gotta stop the bleeding.”
“I-it hurts.”
“I know. I know it does. But it’ll only hurt a little longer, all right? You gotta stay awake for me. The cops are almost here.” His grip tightened. “We’ll get you fixed up and-”
“Where’s…Luke?” Was he still in your house? Would he hurt Jake?
“I don’t know, darlin’. He’s gone. We’ll find him, okay? We’ll find him and he’ll never do this to you again. But I need you to stay awake.”
Black dots were pushing their way into your line of sight, blotting out Jake’s worried face. “Ken…Jake…I wanted to get steak with you.”
Jake pressed harder and you could only whimper. “We will go get that steak. It’ll be the best date.” His voice was muffled, like you had shoved your head under water. And you struggled to hear him at all.
“Promise?” You asked, blood on your teeth.
“I promise.”
You smiled, despite it all. And then you were gone.
#Jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin#tgm#female reader
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Ranpo loves praise♡
Bottom!RANPO X Top!Fem!READER
| Praise kink, use of "Mommy" and "Baby", submissive Ranpo, creampie |
Ranpo loves praise.
It's so cute seeing a man who seemed so sure of himself be absolutely ruined just by a couple kind words.
Just a little compliment here and there, and Ranpo was putty in your hands.
It was dark that night, the only light coming from the moon itself as it danced its way in through the window. It crept up the floorboards until it reached the two of you.
Ranpo was deep inside of you, fucking you slowly and desperately. He knelt between your legs, his grip loosening and hardening against your thighs, keeping them apart lazily. His eyes were barely open, and in the darkness you saw only bright green slits staring back at you, awaiting your approval.
"Such a good boy, Ranpo, dear..." you cooed, finding the tired rhythm of his movements sweet and cute. He was such a baby, your baby after all. All he wanted all day was your pussy, especially after you'd been teasing him all day with those thigh highs that cupped the fat on your legs beautifully. Several times throughout the day, he thought he was going to cum on the spot everytime you leaned over to hand him some paperwork, or gently caressed your thighs knowing he was watching, or simply walking past, allowing your sweet aroma to fill his nose and in turn his dirty thoughts. But he made it, he was good, and he went the whole day without cumming or jerking off. That deserved a reward.
"Ahn, ah, M-Mommy..." He whined, his approval battery suddenly drained so quickly, desperately asking for more of your delicious praise.
"Yes, Baby?" You asked, as if you didn't already know what he wanted.
"M-Mommy, am-am I doing g-good?" He asked as he tried thrusting into you faster, hoping to please you more. Silly boy, just the thought of him not being enough for you was torture for him. He needed validation, he needed your praise.
"Yes, dear, you're doing so good..." you cupped his cheek with your hand, caressing him lovingly. "So good for me, such a good boy..."
"M-Ma...Mommy...." He moaned, slowly reaching his limit.
That's when you decided to bring in the big guns.
"Such a good boy, Ranpo, fucking me so well. So good for me, so good for Mommy...." you added a couple moans here and there, making sure your voice was as sultry as possible, knowing it made Ranpo go crazy.
His hips started stuttering and his grip on your thighs tightened. "M-Mom-Mommy!! Hah, hah...Mommy!!" He whimpered as he slowly reached his release.
That's when you started tingling all over, his cock reaching your sweet spot more and in a faster pace, you held onto his back to keep him close as you both came together.
Ranpo was breathing heavily now, thrusting in slowly, just once or twice, savoring what was left of that feeling, before slowly pulling out with a grunt.
He looked beneath him to find your pretty little pussy, liquids shining in the moonlight like wet little stars. His cum spilled out of you, overfilling your hole nicely. You put on your panties and let down the nightshirt that had been previously pulled up above your breasts, pulling your beloved into a sweet goodnight kiss.
Ranpo finally caught his breath within your mouth. "Please," He pleaded. "One more?"
"No, no, we have work in the morning, remember?" You said, watching him pout like a spoiled little child, it was so cute to see.
"Reeaaally?" He asked again as you pulled him into the covers. "Yes, really, now go to bed, Kunikida-san will yell at you for making us late."
"Why would it be my fault?!" He whined.
"Cause I'm blaming you, of course!" You teased. "Plus, I'm the one who has to shovel cum out of my pussy and take a pill tomorrow, it's only fair."
"Fine." He pouted, getting under the covers to go to sleep.
"But I know you're just doing this just so I'll be extra horny tomorrow."
"Ah, so I guess you don't need those glasses to deduct me."
"Of course! I'm the greatest detective, you know!"
"Of course dear. Goodnight."
"Hmmph. Goodnight."
As Ranpo slowly fell deeper into his sleep, you caressed him, twisting and twirling his black hair around your fingers as you silently read your book.
Ranpo sure does love praise.
#ranpo x reader#top reader#bottom ranpo#bottom ranpo x reader#ranpo edogawa#ranpo edogawa x reader#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs#fanfiction#bsd fanfiction#bsd fanfic#praise k!nk#sub and dom#dom reader#dom fem reader#smut
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