#with the linked lines 'how dare you taking your gaze off me/you should know looking down wont do you any good either/where else should you

[nagisaspolyeden]

okay i need to get really obnoxious about the new nagisa and hiyori solos for a second

(before i go further i adore them, obviously. they are absolutely perfect for them and their character growth, all four of edens solos are, i am blown away by what theyve done with these and i could go on and on about how much i love them individually but in this post i want to go on about something very specific)

seeing hiyoris solo name, Accept My Love, i had some expectations for this song- namely that i expected this to be an overwhelmingly hiyojun song (in the way that other solos have obvious nods to important characters in their lives without being Explicitly About Them (Wandering Clown and Crystal Pleasure being obvious examples of this)) which i was excited for! and i think you can absolutely see it that way!

however!

there are also some nods in Accept My Love that feel more explicitly nagihiyo that have me absolutely struck- both in the references that seem to be links between both of their solos, and the links in Accept My Love that feel like theyre referencing back to some of the kiseki stories from ! era

i just want to pluck the examples i can think of, starting with just the solos (and also with the caveat that this is from one particular person's translations so there may be different interpretations, this is just me drawing conclusions from the ones ive found)

first, from nagisas:

and hiyoris:

poking at this, i can draw a parallel at the very least visually- nagisa finally stepping out into the world where the wind blows, and hiyori standing behind him calling to him to remind him hey, im right here, pay attention to me too...!

but then, going a little further

nagisa:

and then, hiyori:

now this i dont feel i even have to say anything about. the obvious parallels between nagisa struggling with the concept that trying to connect with others being a sin while hiyori just lightly dismisses it as not even something worth considering. loving sigh

and then!

nagisa:

hiyori:

again, a very easy to make comparison. hiyori has always been light-coded, and light in the darkness is a very easy metaphor to make for human connection and love, but i like drawing the parallel regardless as its used in both of their solos

and now... i also want to bring attention to something else.

in kiseki revenge match, thats when hiyori talks about nagisas backstory, and in the midst of it all, he says this

thats how he describes nagisa. and i truly believe that it came from anxiety, and a sense of inadequacy. hiyori poured all of his love into nagisa, and it helped- it undeniably helped, and nagisa has stated as much time and again, that hiyori brought him to life, that hiyoris light saved him, that hiyori is his sun. but hiyori alone couldnt be his whole world (no one person can, even if theyre soulmates (which they are (to me))) and so hiyori, whos sense of self worth is tied to his ability to love and to be loved and to heal, felt insecure over it and started to see nagisa as hopeless. as a bottomless hole.

however

this now brings me back to Accept My Love

do you think there is a limit on how sunlight radiates?

this is so, so stunning to me- because hiyori has come so far, because he believes that his love is endless and healing, because- reading it the way that i am- he can see his love as enough, that his love and giving it isnt hopeless anymore. and he wants to give it! he wants it to be received! accept my love!

and, the final piece that really tops all of this off for me

again, from hiyoris solo

in this journey with no destination.

I REST MY CASE.

NAGIHIYO INVENTED LOVE

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

making up the adult way (not old enough ch.4)

pairing: leon kennedy/reader

cw: handcuffs, slapping (light), begging, sub!leon (light), dom!reader (light), teasing, vaginal sex

summary: Leon wants forgiveness, but you'll only give it to him if he can play by your rules. Time to punish the bad boy!

word count: 2.5k

ao3 link

You weren’t going to hand over forgiveness that easily. Leon needed to learn his lesson. You dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt as a test to see if he’d still want you as your raw and real self - not some version you’d created for him.

It didn’t matter to him. He gazed upon you with the same fondness he always had when you walked through his front door. 

You sat down on his couch, so familiar, and yet you still didn’t feel at ease. Leon sat down next to you, a respectful distance away, not daring to touch you. A new kind of awkwardness permeated through the living room air. 

Leon spoke first. “I know it’s not enough, but I need you to know how sorry I am. I was completely out of line last night and if there’s any way that I can make it up to you, I’ll do it.”

“I just want you to be honest with me.”

“Ask me anything.”

“Did you really believe that we weren’t together when you slept with that woman?”

“I wasn’t sure.”

“Why did you sleep with her if you weren’t sure? Who was she? The side chick? The main chick? Just some one-night stand?”

Just some one night stand like I was supposed to be , you thought. 

“An old friend.”

“An old friend you’re sleeping with?”

“I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t sleep with her or say that this wasn’t the first time, but it’s complicated. ‘Old friend’ doesn’t really cut it.”

“Why is it so hard to pry information out of you?”

“I don’t know what to say. She just showed up and brought me back into her bullshit like she’s been doing since ‘98.”

“Just showed up out of the blue?”

“Yeah, that’s kinda her M.O.”

“So what? You just wait for her to come around? I can’t be your substitute for when she’s not here.”

“You’re not. If I had known that sleeping with her would’ve made you upset, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I promise you - I���m an idiot, not an asshole - at least, I try not to be. I would never try to hurt you, and if there’s any way you’ll forgive me. Any way I can make you happy, please tell me.”

“How badly do you want to earn my forgiveness?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Since it seems you can’t behave on your own, how about we try playing by my rules? Think you can do that?”

“Anything for you.”

“You’re basically a cop, right?”

“I was. Why?”

He omitted the part about his career lasting only a day.

“Have any handcuffs?”

“Upstairs, left bedside table.”

“Stay put.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You grabbed the handcuffs - pink and fuzzy, not the cop kind. Things were looking even brighter. 

You held them up on your way down the stairs, letting them swing in your hand. Like a trophy, like a reward, like a threat.

“Do you want me to put those on you?”

“You’ve got it backwards. They’re for you.”

Heat rose in Leon’s cheeks.

“Speak up or forever hold your peace, baby.”

“I-uh-I’m at a loss for words.”

“Do you still want me?”

Leon looked down at his crotch, almost surprised at his own arousal. “Yeah,” he said, almost reluctant to admit it.

“Good.”

You sat down on the couch.

“Strip,” you said, gesturing for him to stand.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

He stood up with something between confusion and hesitation in his expression. 

“All of it?” He gestured to his outfit.

“All of it.”

“Right here?”

“Is there a problem with that? We’re in your living room. No one else can see you. Only me.”

“It feels weird when you’re staring at me like that.”

“Are you sure the word you’re looking for is ‘weird’?”

He declined to respond and you just raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’.

“Are you going to take your clothes off too?”

You’d think he was a virgin if you didn’t know any better. 

“We’ll see. Depends on how well you behave.”

He started to remove his t-shirt, when you stopped him. 

“Look at me while you do it,” you said.

He locked eyes with you, trying to goad you into some sort of staring contest - a power play. It was painted all over his face, how badly he wanted you to break. 

Your eyes shifted towards his toned chest and down his torso where his hands fidgeted with his belt.

He took a deep breath as if it was hard for him to do something so seemingly simple.

Soon enough, he was fully nude in front of you, while you gazed upon him in silence. Every moment of uncertainty created a certain awkwardness on his part that amused you. 

“Bring me a chair from the kitchen.”

“Okay,” he obliged and came back with a wooden kitchen chair.

“Now sit down.”

You stood up while he sat down.

“You look embarrassed,” you said, approaching him.

“I am,” he admitted.

“Then why are you hard?” you asked, taking his cock in your hand and immediately letting go.

“I don’t know.”

He absolutely knew.

“I’m going to put these handcuffs on you now. Are you okay with that, Leon?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me to stop if I do anything you don’t like.”

“I will.”

You handcuffed him, wrapping his arms behind his back. You stood up to look at him in such a vulnerable state. 

“You look cute like this. A little bit pathetic, too.”

Leon wasn’t sure what to say to your pouty lips, mocking pity.

Much to Leon’s surprise, when you tore off your own clothes, you were wearing black lingerie.

“Can you let me out of these? I wanna touch you.”

“I could let you out of them if you’re uncomfortable, but I still won’t let you touch me.”

You got on your knees in front of him, only as a tease. You watched as his expression went from surprise to excitement to gratitude to betrayal when he realized he wasn’t going to get what he wanted that easily. 

“Are you sorry, Leon?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For fighting, for calling you a whore, for sleeping with someone else, for everything.”

“I want to know how sorry you are.”

“So sorry you have no idea how sorry I am.”

“If you’re so sorry, then why did you do it in the first place?”

At this point, his cock throbbed in your hand while you gripped it tightly. 

“Can you move your hand please?”

“Oh, sorry.” You took your hand away entirely, pretending to misunderstand him.

“Why’d you take it away?” he whined.

“You told me to move it, so I moved it.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean? You could try using your words.”

“Please, touch me.”

“That’s much better.”

You finally did as he asked, stroking him slowly, earning labored breaths from him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes in pleasure. He doesn’t deserve it, you thought. You stopped and while you could see the disappointment in his eyes, he was a fast learner, he knew better than to complain.

You kissed his neck, collarbone, chest - not his lips, not his dick either. You sucked marks onto his skin.

“Now everyone will know that you’re mine,” you said.

“I’m yours.”

“I didn’t even have to ask you to say it. You’re really good at this. Sure you haven’t done it before?”

“No, you’re the first to do this to me.”

“Maybe you’ve fantasized about it, then.”

You could see the truth in his eyes. The confirmation came in the form of silence. 

You unbuttoned the bottom of the lace bodysuit you were wearing. You didn’t have to take off the whole garment to get yourself off. You sat on Leon’s thigh - not his cock like he wanted. 

You were wet, which allowed him some pride, but a new level of yearning as well. There was no real satisfaction for him because as wet as he made you, he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t taste you. You began to grind on his thigh with the intention of making yourself come in front of him.

You held onto his biceps to steady yourself while he watched you, eyes completely transfixed on the sight of your cunt. You took one hand and rubbed your thumb over the sensitive tip of his dick. He moaned - pathetic. 

Once he saw the way your face changed with the heightened pleasure, the way moans slipped from your mouth unintentionally, he realized that you were close. 

“You’re so mean,” he said.

“If you think I’m so mean, then why is your cock leaking?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over his tip which was drooling precum. 

Because he was cute and you pitied him a bit, you began to properly jerk him off while you approached your own peak. 

Longing and betrayal painted his face when you came back from oblivion. You dipped two fingers down to your core and then put them in his mouth. That was his reward. 

The way he twitched in your hand told you he was close, too. 

“Are you gonna come too?”

“Yeah,” he said, breathless, bucking his hips up into your hand.

You removed your hand immediately. 

“When did I say you could do that?”

“You didn’t. I’m sorry.”

You held your palm up to his face, but waited for confirmation before you did anything. 

“Do you deserve it?”

He nodded and you slapped him hard enough to make it sting, but not hard enough to truly hurt him. 

His next words were more shocking than when he called you a whore in the parking lot the night before. “Do it again,” he said. 

“Really?”

“Please," he said quietly, a little embarrassed at how much he liked it.

You obliged. “I didn’t expect you to like it. It was supposed to be a punishment.”

“I didn’t know I would like it that much either.”

He looked at you like you were a goddess, you were divine and deserved worship he wasn’t capable of giving you with his hands tied. He’d take his punishment with gratitude as long as you were the one dishing it out.

“If I ride you, can you promise to tell me before you come?” you asked.

“Yes," he said, but based on the way you’d surprised him already that night, Leon didn’t fully trust himself not to completely unravel in your hands regardless of his own will.  

“Okay,” you said, sinking down on his dick. Truthfully, if he did come without asking, it’d just be another excuse to punish him. You wouldn’t be upset. 

“You feel so good. I wish I could touch you,” he groaned.

You started to bounce up and down slightly. Though your breasts were still in the confines of your lingerie - for the most part - they moved in time with your hips, and Leon’s eyes were glued to them. 

“I would let you if I trusted you to behave, but since you decided to act out last night, you need to earn my forgiveness.”

“How can I earn it?” His baby blue eyes moved from your tits to your face.

“Beg,” you said simply, as if it should’ve been obvious.

“Please, please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do anything like that again.”

“Never do what again?”

“Call you names, get into fights, sleep with anyone else.”

“You’ll always be honest?”

“Always.”

You kissed him on the lips because you wanted it, and he kissed you back with a genuine passion that lay somewhere beyond lust. 

“I’m really close,” he said through shaky breaths.

You stopped the movement of your hips and he whined, but didn’t protest - he was determined to behave.

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

“All mine?”

“All yours.”

And he meant it. 

You started to bounce up and down on him again, truly putting your thighs to work this time. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Gonna come for me?”

“For you. All for you.”

His orgasm left tears in his eyes. You didn’t chide him for bucking his hips up into you while he came - both because he probably couldn’t help it as his brain was clearly gone and also because it brought you to your own orgasm.

You flopped down onto him while you tried to catch your breath.

“I forgive you," you said,

“I meant what I said," Leon said.

After a moment, he asked, somewhat hesitant, “Can you uncuff me?”

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, “I almost forgot.”

You removed the handcuffs and he sprung up, picking you up in his arms. 

“Hey! What are you doing?," you asked, unable to feign any indignation through your laughter.

“Taking you to the shower and then to bed.”

“Who said you were allowed to do that?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend? I didn’t know I had one. What’s he like?”

“Old, a little sweaty, and head over heels falling for you.”

And that was that. You and Leon S. Kennedy were an item now. Even calling yourselves ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ made you both giggle - the butterflies-in-your-stomach, feel-like-I’m-in-high-school-again type of giggling. 

You didn’t have sex in the shower, didn’t even think about it really. You were both a little hungover from the night before and were wholly satisfied from round one. Instead, Leon washed your hair with his separate shampoo and conditioner - the first man you’d ever met who didn’t have 2-in-one or worse 3-in-one. 

Leon got out of the shower first so he could wrap you in a towel when you passed through the threshold of the shower door into the cold bathroom. 

You’d slept together in both senses of the word before, but this was the first time you’d slept naked and it was more intimate than sex, you came to find. Sprawled out on his chest, you asked him to tell you stories - about himself, about his life. 

“There’s not much to tell. I’m not a very interesting guy,” he said, but it was quite the opposite - there was a hell of a lot to tell and his life was interesting for all the worst reasons. 

“Tell me about your friends, your family, your favorite memories.”

“You met my friends, Chris and Claire and I don’t have any family. My parents died when I was a kid and I’m an only child, so unless you’ve got a ouija board, you’re SOL.”

He said with a nonchalance that made you laugh at its absurdity.

“I’m sorry for laughing - it’s just the way you said it was funny.”

“What I lack in parents, I make up for in jokes.”

And many other things, you thought.

“You asked about my favorite memory? I think my favorite memory is gonna be this. Right now.”

When you looked up at him, about to call him out for being cheesy and giving you a bs answer, he was beaming. His lips curved upward to hold up the apples of his cheeks and it was so new, so foreign to work out these muscles on his face that his smile trembled, faltering under the weight, only to return to his face. This was the first time he’d ever smiled so long it made his cheeks sore. 

[slutouttanowhere]

Heated

Pairing: LA Knight x reader

Genre: fluff

a/n: I started this as an imagine over on Twitter but 140 characters weren’t enough. I fell asleep typing this, and I woke up to finish bc what else’s should I have done??? Anywho I hope you megastar girlies enjoy some Knight fluff, hes said himself that usually he’s a sweetheart, and I can absolutely believe that. Like, reblog and comment please

Chelsea Green invited you to a beach party. At first you were reluctant as you really didn’t like crowded spaces, but she knew what to say. “Cmonnn, oh! LA Knight will be there.” She grinned, and just like that she got you hook line and sinker. Now you regretted even telling her that you had a thing for the Megastar, but she wouldn’t be your bestie if she didn’t know all your dirty little secret.

“I’ll think about it.” You smiled, but gave her no more than that. Of course you showed up anyway, late as hell, but at least you showed! After a few drink, you began to loosen up and mingle with everyone. You caught Matt Riddles attention, and he ended up talking your ears off. You sorta dont mind because most of his excitement made you laugh for a bit, but you were thankful when Randy called for Matt, thus saving you. Some people you recognized, but Chelsea had too many non-wrestling fans for you to feel comfortable enough socializing with them.

You wandered over to the bar to order yourself a fruity cocktail, when someone slid over next to you. “Well if it ain’t miss social butterfly.” LA Knight chuckled from beside you, he didn’t even bother to button his shirt putting his chest hairs on full display. A thin sheen of sweat covering his broad chest, and tricking down his toned stomach. Neither of you hid the fact that you were indeed gawking at each other. Despite seeing each other half naked every week, you were still taken aback by how handsome he is. His gold link chain glisten in the setting sun, and his baby blue eye held a look of admiration as they slid over your face taking in every detail. When his eyes lingered too long on your plump, glossy lips, you looked away bashfully.

“Oh so you were watching me fail terribly at living up to my hottest wwe star name?” It was really meant as a joke, one you didn’t expect him to take seriously, but he never liked it when you talked down about yourself.

“You’re the prettiest thing walking on two legs around here sweetheart.” He spoke sincerely looking you deep in the eyes, he could have told you that he invented chocolate just then, and you might have believed him. He’s convincing like that.

At that moment you decided to do something totally out of character for you, but you were feeling courageous. “Wanna dance?” Before he could answer you were already taking him by the hand and leading him in the middle of the large group of people. The music was a nice slow tempo, Lana Del Rey crooning into the summer breeze. You didn’t dare look at anyone else for the fear of possibly being judged might seep in. Instead you threw your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the nape of his hair. Naturally his hands fell at your waist, but they lowered to your hips.

His lips parted to speak but he thought against, desperate to hear what he had to say you blurred out. “Say it.”

“I’m not sure when it happened, we ended up spending a lot of time together on the road, and at first I thought I was okay with you just being my buddy. That’s the thing, I’ve been looking at you for so long I began to realize how sweet, and beautiful you are. And yeah, you’ve got a gorgeous face doll, but I’m talking about the inside, you’re such a genuine person…I crave more of it. I don’t even know if you feel the same way, or any kind of way about me. What I do know is that I’ve been wanting to say this forever, and I don’t think I could have waited any longer.” He finally took a breath, his gaze finally finding yours now that he’s said what was in his mind. To say you were shocked by this revelation is an understatement, you had put it out of your head long ago that he would ever go for a girl like you. Here he was confessing.

“Shaun…I don’t know what to say.” You breathed out, someone had bumped into, and pushing you and Shawn closer together. His eyes looked like the ocean, he watched you with pleading gaze.

“Say something.” His eyes searching yours for any drop of objections, but you had none. Your body relaxed in his arms, a tiny snake curled onto your lips, you leaned in close, and touched your forehead to his. Your bodies were not pressed together, his hands traveling up and down your back lovingly.

“Ive felt that way for so long, it’s like I’ve been holding my breath for three years.” You finally spoke in a whisper.

His face scrunched up in disbelief, “well why didn’t you say something dummy.”

“I am not a dummy, and I don’t know, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” You chuckled, now that you’ve said it out loud, it all seemed a little ridiculous that you held it in this long.

“Does this mean you’ll go on dates with me now?” He asked half joking, half serious.

“How could I say no to dates with a Megastar, huh? Yeah.” You loved saying his catchphrases and watching the serotonin hit in real time. Not everyone could swoon LA Knight, but you seemed to do it so effortlessly.

He let out an airy sigh, his eyes softened as he looked back at you with adoration. “Can I kiss you already?” He asked chewing on his own bottom lip as if holding himself back so he wouldn’t kiss me without my permission.

“Duh.” You giggled before pressing your lips to his, it was gentle, yet you could feel his desire for you. The butterflies in the pit of your stomach erupt causing you to smile into the kiss. When you pulled away finally he still lingered wanting more, the two of you swayed slowly in the sea of bodies. Eventually the two of you got away to the inside of Chelsea’s beach house to make out, tangle up together in one of the guest rooms. You knew she’d have a field day when you tell her about tonight, that’s if she somehow didn’t know already.

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (9/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: Check it out, y'all! Another update from me! Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven / Part Eight

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism / voyeurism. role play.

Part Nine

“I don’t know who you are, or what sort of game you’re playing at, but this isn’t funny!”

Emma glanced at the monitor overhead, the timer quickly counting down the minutes she had left to try and convince David that she was really Emma, that she was alive, and in need of his help.

“David Robert Nolan, shut the fuck up and listen to me!” she yelled over the receiver.

“What did you just call me?”

“I called you by your full government name,” she said. “David Robert, after your father, Nolan. Or would you prefer I call you Charming like Mary Margaret does?”

“How do you know--”

“Because it’s me, David! It’s Emma! I’m alive and I need your help!”

“Emma?” he questioned over the line, the hope she knew he wasn’t sure he should dare to feel leaking into his tone. “Is it really you? How? Where are you? Where have you been? Who did they pull out of the--”

“Just listen, okay?” she interrupted as the time rapidly dwindled. “I don’t know who that woman was or how he faked my death, but I was abducted three weeks ago by someone who calls himself Pan. I was taken from outside the police station after dropping off a skip. I was tasered. I’m here with a man named Captain Killian Jones. He has a brother named Liam, who also was led to believe that Killian was missing for reasons other than kidnapping. I need you to find him. He’ll be trying to get a hold of you, because Killian just called him, too, and let him know what’s been going on.”

She flicked her gaze to Killian, still looking shell-shocked from the emotionally charged conversation he’d had with his brother. He’d wanted to stay by her side whilst she made her call, but she’d told him to go sit and take a moment. They’d be there for one another later. It was why they’d chosen to wait and make these calls before turning in for the night. So they could just lay in bed and hold each other in the aftermath.

“What has been going on?” David demanded, bringing Emma’s focus back to her brother. “Why would this Pan person take you? What has he… are you alright? Has he hurt you? Did you escape, is that why you’re calling now? Do I need to come get--”

“No, we haven’t escaped. We… we sort of… earned a reward. Look. It’s too much to explain right now. I’m going to give you some specs of the place we’re being held in. Write them down so you can give them to the police.”

Emma waited as David searched for a pen and paper, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as the timer continued to draw closer to zero.

“Okay. Go.”

Emma rattled off the information Killian had put together for them; the estimated size of the facility, features he’d been able to make out that might make the building distinguishable, and details about the different rooms (though she hadn’t told Killian about the medical suite she’d been in, and hated that she couldn’t tell him or David about the doctor, for fear of Pan’s threat against Killian’s pound of flesh) that might aid in their search. She also mentioned that there were others here, so perhaps they could find a link between their missing person cases and others with similar details.

“Got it,” David said. “What… what else can I do?”

“Nothing,” she said, her throat tightening and tears welling in her eyes. The carefully constructed fortifications she’d put in place in order to get through the call were crumbling fast, but she couldn’t fall to pieces just yet. “Just… Just know that I’m alive and that Killian and I need you to get the police looking for us again. And…”

“And?”

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5…

“And that I love you! I love you both!”

0… dial tone.

The receiver slipped from her hand and clattered against the concrete floor. She was pretty sure Killian returned it to the base before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed. Laying her down gently, he crawled onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms. With the last of her strength, Emma pressed closer to him, molding their chests together and tucking her head beneath his chin. Long, quiet minutes stretched out with only their unified heartbeats filling the void, neither of them capable of saying much of anything until Killian broke the silence.

“He sounded destroyed,” he murmured, his tone flat and watery from the tears he’d shed after hanging up with his brother, and again as he’d held Emma while she spent hers into the front of his shirt. “Your brother sounded as though he’d been given a noble quest, while mine…”

“You told him not to beat himself up over it,” she reminded him. “To not dwell on the fact that he’d believed the lie Pan sent him from your email address.”

“Aye,” he sighed.

She knew he was running the conversation over in his mind. The way Liam had sounded ecstatic to hear from him, asking about his travels and when he thought he might return home. The way the line had gone silent after Killian had revealed the truth. The way his brother had sounded broken and utterly ashamed that he’d fallen for the trick, too eager to believe things had turned a corner for his brother, blinding him from seeing the cracks in the story that might have caused him to be suspicious enough to follow up.

Killian had spent most of the call comforting his brother and apologizing for the things he’d said when last they spoke, breaking open old wounds they had not the time to properly dress so they might begin to heal. Their time had gone so fast. He’d barely been able to convey the necessary details to him so that further action could be taken beyond the call before time ran out. She wasn’t even sure Liam had heard Killian tell him he loved him before the line had gone dead.

While her call to David had played out almost exactly as she thought it would, she knew Killian’s had not gone the way he’d wanted it to.

“At least they know now,” she said. “The truth is out there, and they’ll be looking for us again. That’s something at least.”

“Aye,” he agreed, though a bit hollowly. “That’s better than the alternative.”

“Hey,” she said, pulling back and lifting her gaze. When he didn’t meet hers right away she reached up and scratched her fingers through the stubble at his jawline. A huff left his chest and his eyes fell to hers.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to really clear the air with him. I know there were things you had to leave unsaid in order to get our message out, but…” She swallowed hard, willing back the fresh sob working its way up her throat. “Please don’t give up hope.” His eyes softened at the sound of her words catching and he buried his hand in the back of her hair. “I need you to help me stay optimistic here. I need you to tell me that we’ll still be able to tell them everything we didn’t get a chance to say to them today, because they’ll find us and we can say those words to their faces. Okay?”

“Emma, I…”

She could see his heart breaking in his expression and she chastised herself for guilt-tripping him, but… she meant what she said. She needed him to be strong with her right now.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, holding her close to his chest once more. “Of course we’ll get that chance. We’ll have an entire lifetime to say all the things that need to be said. They’ll find us. Of that I’m certain. They’ll never stop fighting for us. And neither will I.”

“Good.”

~/~

Emma twisted and turned her torso in an attempt to find comfort, something that seemed to be an impossibility in the damned corset Pan had provided.

A corset that accompanied the wench costume she was expected to wear for tonight’s festivities. Festivities that made her stomach roll, or would have if the blasted corset hadn’t been cinched so tightly.

After a fitful night’s sleep and late morning meal, she and Killian had been escorted to different areas so they could prepare themselves as the evening’s entertainment. Per usual, her anxiety spiked when it became clear they were to be separated, and the spa-like environment where she would spend the day being pampered and prepped did little to calm her nerves.

The host of ladies who assisted in the waxing, facial, manicure, pedicure, massage, hair, and make-up services wore masks to obscure their identities and spoke in a language Emma could not identify. Although she attempted to question them individually, they either did not understand her, or had been instructed to pretend as such. The latter seemed more plausible given the furtive glances the ladies occasionally made towards the Lost One standing guard.

After a light meal, Emma was dressed in the wench costume; a more upscale version of the cheap, slutty knock-off one might find at a Halloween store. The women were dismissed and she’d been instructed to follow the Lost One, her trepidations spiking again as she padded down the corridor behind him. There were many twists and turns before they finally rounded a corner, revealing Killian standing in front of a set of double doors. Emma’s heart leapt at the sight of him and relief flooded her body.

Well, first relief, then… something else.

He was decked out in head to toe leather, his jawline manicured with an alluring amount of scruff and his eyes lined in a deep, rich kohl. His hair had been artfully tousled and his skin bronzed. Beneath the layers of black leather, he wore a smoke-like linen shirt, unbuttoned down to the v of his waistcoat, exposing a tantalizing amount of chest hair. The leather trousers were tight, but not so much as to appear painted on, leaving just a hint to the imagination of what lay beneath their laces.

“Swan?” he said, in an amused and sinfully deep tone. “See something you like, love?”

Now aware that her mouth had been hanging open, Emma closed it and swallowed hard before answering, “You look…”

“I know,” he quipped with a cheeky smirk and smugly lifted brow, earning him an eye roll before his gaze raked over her once more. “You cut quite the figure in that get up, I must say.”

“Cutting is right,” Emma groused, struggling against the tight confines of her outfit. “I can only imagine the impression this corset is leaving on my spleen.”

“Your discomfort is a cross I am more than willing to bear… especially after my earlier one.”

Emma raised her brows in response to his cryptic words and put-out tone.

Scratching behind his ear, the tip of which was becoming quite red, he confessed under his breath in a low mumble, “I’ve been manscaped.”

Her eyes widened, and although she knew better from her earlier perusal, they fell to his chest, ensuring herself that the thick blanket of hair remained untouched.

“Not there,” he said, exasperatedly. “Lower.”

Emma tucked her lips between her teeth to try and stifle her laugh. His disgruntled tone and expression were absolutely priceless, despite the circumstances.

“Well,” she said, placing her hand on his arm in commiseration. “That makes two of us.”

They shared a moment of joint amusement, until the sound of the doors opening pulled them back into reality, sobering their demeanors.

A Lost One waved them forward. This one, like the one who had stood guard over her throughout the day, was not either of the men who had been assigned to them previously. The ones who seemed to be connected to her and Killian, respectively, in some way.

With shoulders back and heads held high, they entered the theatre, hand-in-hand. The Lost One directed them to the platform and they were both caught off guard at the emptiness of the room.

“My guests will arrive in due course,” Pan’s voice echoed. “First, a few pre-performance instructions. Pan says…”

He started by pointing out the furnishings upon the platform: a leather chair, an antique writing desk, a chaise with several cushions, and a small side table with various toys, lubricants, restraints, and other items atop it, including a pair of domino masks and earbuds.

“Go ahead,” he insisted, “Pan says, each of you take a mask and an earbud. The mask will help obscure your identities and the earbud is how you’ll hear conversations and suggestions made by my guests.” After affixing their masks, they placed a bud in their ear. Pan’s voice was now, eerily, inside their heads. “You will only act on the suggestions that are accompanied by a green light that will illuminate along the back of the upper tier.”

Green light splashed against the back walls as an example before Pan continued. “Pan says you shall not speak unless instructed otherwise, and should only do so in character. I expect you to comply with the approved requests and show my guests a good time. Understood?”

“Aye,” Killian managed to utter. All Emma could do was nod, too choked with impending dread to speak.

“Good,” Pan crowed in their ear. “Pan says, get into character and have a good show.”

Before the doors could open, Killian swung Emma around to face him and pressed their foreheads together. “You and me,” he whispered, so low she barely heard him. “Just you and me, love.”

Emma closed her eyes and nodded, her forehead rubbing against his as she inhaled deeply. Opening her eyes, she connected her gaze with his, both of them silently giving the other permission to get into character and play out the charade: him, a fearsome pirate captain and her, his defiant wench captive.

Their audience finally filed in, initially paying them little attention, while greeting one another as they took their seats behind their screens. Emma took a seat of her own in the leather chair at the center of the platform as Killian casually leaned against the front of the desk with his arms and ankles crossed. It wasn’t until the stage began to spin, allowing all of the guests an opportunity to see the show from every vantage point, that the audience really took notice of them.

It was unnerving to hear their actual voices, and the comments being made as they assessed tonight’s entertainment. Emma kept her eyes squarely focused on Killian’s, attempting to block it all out, and had therefore almost missed the way his bejeweled finger was drumming against his arm, tapping out a rhythm against the leather.

You and me. You and me. You and me.

A greeting of welcome sounded out from the speakers and Pan took a moment to remind his guests to don their own earbuds and microphones, as well as set the stage for that evening’s entertainment.

As soon as the greenlight - literally - was given, a cacophony of voices flooded Emma’s ear as each of the guests threw out suggestions. Her stomach turned and tremors of dread rippled down her spine at the thought of what they would make her and Killian do, of the intimacies they’d witness, of the images they’d take away with them.

Reaching up, Emma adjusted her mask, assuring it was firmly in place. Closing her eyes, she tried to drown out the voices so she could collect herself. She wasn’t Emma Swan right now. She was a wench. A wench being held by a fearsome pirate captain. They weren’t seeing Emma. They wouldn’t be able to take anything from Emma Swan. All they would get from her tonight was a wench. A character. A fantasy. Nothing more.

The sharp tip of cold metal digging into the underside of her chin jolted her back to the here and now. Her eyes snapped open and Killian - no. Not Killian. The pirate captain - was standing before her with a dagger held to her throat. The room was flooded with green light, and Emma realized the first command had been issued. Swallowing against the pressure of the blade, Emma wet her lips, set her features, then lifted her chin in defiance.

“Seems she needs some convincing,” a guest said in her earbud. “I say we give the Captain free rein to order his wench about. Agreed?”

Others murmured their agreement and the green light illuminated once more. A wide, sinister smile lifted the corners of her Captain's lips and he twisted the dagger so the flat part of the blade rested beneath her chin.

“On your feet, wench,” he commanded, the blade prompting her to stand as he applied subtle pressure upward.

With a predatory gaze he followed the tip of the blade as it dragged across her skin, over the swell of each breast before dipping into the valley between. A shiver of desire coursed through her causing his lust-filled, darkened depths to flick up and meet her own.

He slipped the dagger beneath the laces of her corset and with several firm tugs cut her free from the restrictive garment. A relieved and rapturous exhale left her lungs, her breasts heaving from the joyous release.

“My, my,” Killian purred in his Captain’s voice. “Aren’t you a sightly bit of plunder.”

The tip of the dagger continued to tease and taunt her breasts, the tip swirling around and over each nipple until they were painfully erect and clearly visible through the thin fabric of her blouse. A few more tugs, slashes, and artfully placed cuts left her top in tatters, her breasts fully exposed to their audience and her pirate captor’s eyes. Eyes she chose to remain focused on as more suggestions were bandied about among the crowd.

A new suggestion was green lit, and the Captain stepped forward, closing what little space there had been between them. Trading their positions on the platform, he then pressed down on her shoulders and ordered, “On your knees for the Captain, wench.”

Emma lowered herself in front of him, a defiant, in-character, glare staring up at the smirk he gave her.

Sinking into the chair she had occupied a moment ago, he leaned back and crooked his finger at her. As she shuffled forward on her knees, his gaze hungrily taking her in, he commanded in a low and sultry tone, “Make good use of those hands and undo me laces.”

Her core clenched and she tried to remain in character as she reached up and loosened the laces of his leather trousers as though it were the last thing she wished to do.

“Good girl,” he praised. Slipping his hand into his trousers he pulled out his cock, not quite fully engorged yet, and began stroking it in her face.

“Now then.” She flinched when he tapped her lips with the head of his cock, hard. Taken aback momentarily by the action because she’d been distracted by her earbud, trying to decipher what the crowd was telling them to do next… not that it was a big leap. Reaching down he placed his thumb against her chin and applied a bit of downward force as he told her, “Open that whore’s mouth of yours and take my cock, wench. Let’s see how deft you are at shivering me timber.”

Her eyes watered and she choked against the assault of his member being forcibly shoved down her throat. Flicking her gaze upward, she saw the concern and apology in his eyes before he shut them tight and let his head fall back, an expression of arrogant dominance and self-satisfaction gloating from his features.

The laughter and jeers of the crowd filled her ears, as did the vulgar chant of suck his dick, applied in a rhythm that her Captain made her keep pace with from where he had her hair gripped in his hand at the back of her head.

“That’s it, love,” he praised, tapping out another rhythm behind her ear with his finger as she bobbed against his length. You and me, you and me, you and me.

She’d almost managed to tune out the mob when a woman’s voice grated in her ear.

“Well, hello there, sailor.”

Looking up, Emma saw a woman, decked out ostentatiously in hues of green, arriving late and making her way down the steps. In her hand was the microphone attached to the ear piece she wore. She paused, giving Killian a once over before slinking behind her screen and taking her seat.

Before she disappeared behind the thin veil of fabric, Emma recognized her by the mask she wore. It was the woman who had paused by the two-way mirror the night before to check her flaming red tresses.

“Do us a favor and flick those kohl-lined eyes this way,” she cat-called into her microphone.

The green light signaled from above and another light shone down over her screen. Emma stared up Killian’s body to look at his face and saw the muscle in his jaw clench and spasm before he flicked his eyes away from her and towards the screen, then held his gaze there as the platform continued to turn.

“Mmmm,” the woman hummed provocatively. “Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy tonight’s entertainment very much indeed.”

When the platform circled round again, Emma glanced over at the woman’s screen and could see the silhouette of her reclined back with her legs splayed wide, clearly pleasuring herself under the Captain’s gaze. A jolt of jealous anger ignited down Emma’s spine. Relaxing her jaw, she let Killian slip further down her throat until she could brush the tip of her nose against his torso. A cursing moan slipped over his lips and his hips bucked from the unexpected action.

“Nice!” a guest praised. “Make her take all of it, Captain!”

“No, you fool,” another guest chastised. “We don’t want him blowing his load too soon. Not when the wench has other holes for him to use.”

“I wanna see the wench take control. Let her have the reins for a bit.”

“Maybe next time,” someone countered. “I’m enjoying this too much.”

Next time!? Emma responded internally in a near panic. What the hell do they mean, next time?

“I think her breasts need some attention, too,” another chimed in. “Look how those nipples are just begging for attention.”

“I wanna see her cunny. I bet it is just dripping. Would love to see our Captain’s face glistening from her juices, wouldn’t you?”

All during their debate Emma continued to work her Captain over. She delighted in the way his chest hitched and heaved, the way the chords of his neck tightened, the rosy blush that developed high on his cheeks, the micro spasms twitching through his torso and down his legs, and the sounds… dear god, the sounds this man made.

Green flashed again and Emma was astounded at the way Killian managed to keep track of what was expected of them, given the distraction she’d been providing. Pulling himself from her mouth with a pained sounding grunt, he hauled her onto her feet then shoved her back onto the nearby chaise. She’d barely registered what was happening when he lifted her skirts up over her legs and grabbed her hips, pulling her body towards the edge of the cushion and lining her sex up with his eager mouth.

The exquisite torment lasted for what felt like hours. Time and again he brought her to the brink with his tongue, teeth, and hands, deftly assaulting her clit as he probed, scissored, and thrust his fingers into her holes. When his mouth tired he switched to one of the many toys, holding her on edge until tears streamed down her face and pathetic whimpers escaped her lips. Her back ached from the repeated arch his actions provoked and her legs quivered uncontrollably. A few times, he gave her cunt a rest, turning his attention to her breasts and laving them with his tongue while his slick-coated fingers rolled her nipples into taut peaks that he then sucked clean with his mouth.

The sound of their joint moans were echoed by those from the crowd. A symphony of zippers being undone, fabric being moved, skin being slapped, and groans being uttered filled her ears, making the torture all the more erotic. When she was finally given leave to speak, it was only so she could beg. Beg for mercy. Beg for release. Beg for him to fuck her.

And beg she did.

“Please, Captain,” she whimpered, choking on a sob that had caught in her throat from the fresh assault he was applying to her clit.

“Please what, wench?” he commanded in a strained gruff. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Please let me come,” she pleaded. “Please, please, plea--!”

She didn’t get the third please out before a scream tore past her lips, her body convulsing from the pleasure the vibrating toy at her clit was finally granting her. Wave after wave of release crashed over her until she was so spent she wasn’t certain she hadn’t blacked out. The next thing she knew, she was being hoisted off the chaise and bent over the desk, facing out towards the crowd.

The Captain’s body molded against her back, his breath hot against her ear as he growled, “I’d find something to hold on to if I were you, wench. Because I’m gonna fuck you hard. I’m gonna fuck you deep.”

Emma barely had time to latch on to the corners of the desk when the entire thing tipped forward from the force of his entering thrust. Relentlessly, he pounded into her, egged on by the jeers, cheers, and taunts of the crowd.

“Keep your eyes open, wench,” a voice demanded from the masses. “We wanna see you watching us take pleasure in your degradation.”

The green light commanded that she do just that, the silhouettes from behind the thinly veiled screens leaving little to the imagination of how much the audience was enjoying the show.

“She can keep her eyes on the lot of you,” the irritating woman’s voice said. “I want the Captain’s eyes back on me.” When the green light agreed, Emma could practically hear the woman’s gloating expression in her words. “Cast those come fuck me eyes this way, Captain.”

He must have complied, prompting her to purr, “Oooo, you are a wicked one, aren’t you. Would you like to have your wicked way with me? Tell me all the wicked things you’d like to do to me.”

With effort, given the pounding he was giving her, Emma managed to look back over her shoulder in time to see him flash the woman a wide, yet sinister smile before grunting, “I’d like to shove a gag in your mouth to shut you the fuck up.”

Applause rang out, as did a round of laughter, and Killian turned his attention back to Emma and the brutal pace he was setting.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he panted on a half groan. “So wet and so tight.”

“That’s it, Captain,” the crowd encouraged over the barrage of their own moans and sounds of satisfaction. “Take her. Use her. Breed her.”

“Yes!” someone cried out. “Breed her! Fill her for us, Captain. I wanna see your cum leak out of her afterward.”

The Captain roared from his release moments later, his fingers digging into her sides to the point of bruising as his hips moved erratically against her ass. Once every last drop had been coaxed from him, he collapsed and fell forward, sprawling across her back as his chest fought for each breath. Around them the sounds and smells of others reaching their own climax filled the air, then for a brief yet glorious moment, things went quiet.

One final swath of green filled her vision, and Killian murmured into her ear, “Stay there, love. One last task, I’m afraid.”

He removed himself from her and she immediately felt the warmth of his release slip from her depths and trickle down her thighs. He gave her ass a quick, firm slap, then spread her cheeks, allowing everyone to see the proof of his conquest as the platform turned one last time.

When the platform came to a stop, a curtain dropped, surrounding the stage and separating them from the audience's view. Killian assisted Emma off the desk and swept her up into his arms before taking them over to the chaise where he could sit and cradle her in his lap. They held each other as their skin cooled, their heartbeats regulated, and their breathing calmed.

“You were wonderful, Swan,” he praised, his fingers gliding across her back and down her side. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

“You, too,” she murmured against his chest, barely able to keep her eyes open, the exhaustion created from both their exertions and the stress of the situation starting to take hold.

“Here. Have her put this on.” A voice caused them both to jump and Emma’s head snapped to where a Lost One stood a few feet away with a robe offered in his outstretched hand.

Killian took it from him and draped it around her shoulders, then helped her to stand so she could secure it around herself.

“Follow me,” the Lost One commanded, setting off towards the door they had entered hours before.

“Are you okay to walk?” Killian asked, his tone full of concern and laced with guilt.

“I’m good,” she assured him. Tucking herself into his side, she added, “But I might need to lean on you a bit.”

“Lean on me all you need,” he told her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “But I don’t mind carrying you.” She flicked her eyes up at him and smiled when his Captain’s persona took hold once more. A surprised yelp squeaked past her lips when he bent down and swept her feet out from under her. Straightening, he adjusted her weight in his arms and cheeked, “I’ve carried rum barrels heavier than the likes of you, wench. So, I’ll have no argument.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

~/~

Killian gazed up at the ceiling, his arm wrapped around Emma as she lay curled into his side, the smell of her floral shampoo and conditioner tickling his sinuses. After they’d finished entertaining Pan’s guests, the Lost One had led them to the showers so they could clean up. They’d both been almost too spent and exhausted to wash, much less talk, and little had been said on the way back to their room, while dressing, or even after they’d crawled into bed.

While Emma had drifted off within moments of her head hitting the pillow, Killian had been unable to do so. Too many thoughts were competing in his mind. Thoughts of Emma playing her part as the defiant wench, the memory of her on her knees, splayed out on the chaise, and bent over the desk threatening to make him hard again. Thoughts of the crowd and how he hadn’t expected the proprietary feelings of satisfaction that had coursed through him as he took his wench in their full view, claiming her for his own. Thoughts of what those actions would mean for them now, knowing he had finished inside her without protection. Thoughts of everything the two of them had been through since they had awoken, naked, in bed together all those weeks ago, and… thoughts of what Pan might have in store for them next.

It was these thoughts that were keeping him awake the most.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Emma said groggily, her fingers twirling through the hair on his chest as she sleepily looked up at him.

Furtively, he glanced down at her then back up, unwilling to voice his thoughts to her just yet. Despite everything they’d been through, she seemed so content. In this moment she was safe and happy and hopeful.

He did not wish to deprive her of that.

“Hey,” she said, concern coloring her tone. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek and pulled his face back down, forcing him to look at her. “Tell me. What’s eating you up?” Propping herself up on her elbow, her brows pulled together and a slightly panicked expression crossed her face. “Please tell me you’re not beating yourself up about tonight. You know I would never hold any of that against you, right?”

“Aye, I know,” he responded quickly, not wishing for her to believe for a moment that his trepidations had anything to do with her. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I just… I wonder whether we,” he paused, taking a moment to swallow and fortify his resolve before confessing, “Whether we made the right decision.”

Confusion rooted deeper in her expression. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you… don’t you wonder why he let us call them?” he said, his fingers gently stroking her arm as a way to ground himself and hopefully keep her feeling connected to him as he attempted to voice his concerns. “Why he made it seem like agreeing to do what we did was the only choice we could make?”

“It was the only choice,” Emma countered emphatically. “Being separated from one another isn’t an option I--”

“But that’s just it,” he argued. “Maybe that’s the choice we should have made.”

Emma pulled back as though he’d just slapped her, and his heart broke at the vulnerability and hurt he saw displayed upon her face and in the tremor of her next words. “Are you… Have I done something to make you not want to…”

Sitting up, he took her face in his hands, leveled his gaze with hers, and assured her, “No. No, please don’t misunderstand me. Being separated from you is the last thing I would ever wish for. I just think that…”

Emma reached up and took his hands into her own, cradling them in her lap as she spoke. “Alright. Talk me through what you’re thinking, then. Why do you think it was a mistake to agree with his demands and stay together?”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he drew in a deep breath, not wishing to voice his concerns for fear of making them real. He’d rather them both be prepared for the possibility, though. Everything they’d faced, they’d faced together. Choosing together. He didn’t want this to be any different.

“Each round of Pan’s demented game has escalated things between us,” he began. “First, it was stripping away our vulnerability. Forcing us to reveal things about ourselves that we would never normally reveal.”

Emma nodded and squeezed his hands. “Go on.”

Wetting his lips, he continued. “The second round was all about taking advantage of our attraction towards each other and getting us comfortable with sharing physical intimacy. This third round challenged and exploited the lines of physical intimacy we were willing to explore with one another.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Each round has ratched up the stakes of our experience here, making us more and more compliant.”

“And each round’s rewards and penalties have reflected that.” He held her gaze with an intensity he hoped would lead her into understanding where he was going without him having to say it explicitly.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite getting it.

“I still don’t understand why you think it might have been best if we’d chosen to be separated.”

“What if the next escalation, or the one after that, is…” He swallowed past the bile working its way up his throat, “...actual harm to each other. Violence.”

Emma balked and her mouth dropped open with a gasp. Clearly, such a thought had not occurred to her until now.

“What if Pan makes us hurt each other? What then?” he continued on, pulling her into his arms and whispering the rest into her hair in a tone of apology. “Maybe he tricked us into staying together? Maybe we would be better off separated, because… Now we have to face what it would mean to have hurt someone we… how are we supposed to respond when faced with the command to injure the other? What would you have me do if Pan orders me to…”

Thoughts of the unthinkable made it impossible for him to continue, but after a few moments Emma pulled back and ran her fingers down the side of his face.

“We’ve already made our choice to stay together. There’s no point in wondering whether or not it was the right one.”

Killian nuzzled his face into her hand then turned his head to place a kiss on her palm.

“Besides,” she said, his tough lass straightening her shoulders and setting her resolve. “If Pan commands that one of us is to be harmed, then the harm will happen regardless.”

Killian cocked his head to one side, not completely sure what she meant by that statement.

Fortunately, she clarified, saying, “Either one of us will administer the injury, or he’ll have one of his Lost Ones do it. Either way… the injury will occur. There’s nothing either of us can do to stop it from happening.”

“Aye. You’re right,” Killian replied. “I suppose the thing we must ask ourselves is whether we can endure the guilt, and every other emotion that might come with it, should we be the one to inflict such pain on the other.”

Several silent beats of his heart went by before she softly, yet hesitantly asked, “Could you?”

Killian took another beat to truly consider the question. The question he’d been considering for most of the night. If Pan commanded it, could he hurt the woman he loved?

“No,” he stated definitively. “It’s one thing to administer a spanking to you, and quite another to…” He balled his hand into a fist and stared down at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully. “The thought of putting my fist to you… I can’t. I won’t.” Gazing back up at her, he added, “And I won’t fault you for having a Lost One mete out Pan’s orders on me either. Especially if it will save you from having to carry that guilt, love.”

Emma nodded her understanding and acceptance, then prompted him to lie back down beside her. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she whispered softly, though there was very little hope in her tone.

“Aye, love. Let’s hope so.”

Part Ten

[primofate]

Genshin x fem!reader [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] Manager reader gets hit on/harassed

Note: IM BACK FROM VACATION I recommend you read “How it’s like to be their manager” first before this one. Gives it a lot more perspective :)

Scenario: During an away game at another school, you catch the eye of a senior there. Little did he know that you’re the Genshin team’s manager and how much trouble he just caused for himself. 

Warnings: SEXUAL HARRASSMENT but still SFW, swearing, profanities, fighting. platonic relationships.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Xiao, Tohma, reader as the team manager

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

Lost.

It was like one of your traits. Getting lost easily. You sigh and look left and right to see if anyone was in the hallways to help you get back to the gym, or at least give you directions.

“Those guys...are gunna be worried if I don’t get back soon,” you sweatdrop a little and laugh nervously, picturing your childish team just losing it when you come back late. “I better hurry,” you mutter to yourself, pace quickening the slightest bit, just as a door to one of the classrooms slide open with a thud, revealing a spiky haired guy who stares and blinks at you. You take that opportunity to ask the guy where the gym is. 

Back at the gym where the team is doing warmups and practice receives, Tartaglia starts getting antsy and annoying. “Where’s Y/N-chan~~?” He sways back and forth. Zhongli sighs at his middle blocker, “She’ll be back soon, she just went to look for a vending machine,” They still had an hour to go before the practice match, so Zhongli wasn’t that worried. 

“Hmmm? It’s--HIT--been a while--HIT--since--HIT--she’s been back --HIT--though--HIT,” Kaeya states. Sentence cut off in pieces as he tries to keep the volleyball up in the air, his tied up blue hair starting to stick to his neck because of the sweat. Still, the team keeps practicing, up until 10 minutes later when even their captain starts to get antsy. 

“...Captain, don’t hide it, just admit you’re worried for her too,” Tohma states with a harmless laugh. Zhongli muses and finally sighs, “I have to stay here. Someone else go and look for her,” and immediately seven hands are in the air.

Tartaglia waves his hand “Me, me!”

Kaeya raises his hand “I’ll go!”

Diluc does too “I can do it...”

Albedo follows “I remember the layout of the school,”

Kazuha volunteers “I’ve got good instincts,”

Xiao gingerly picks his hand up “I’ll bring her back fast,”

and finally Tohma’s hand is high in the air, “I’ll find her!”

Of course everyone wanted to go... Zhongli decides he doesn’t want to deal with it and tells his team to go with rock paper scissors. Watching them battle it out really made him wonder how the hell he kept this team together. 

“YES!” Tartaglia pumps his fist in the air as he, Kazuha, Xiao and Tohma win the simple round of rock, paper, scissors. Kaeya, Diluc and Albedo are silently sulking, but continue their practice. “We’ll be back soon!!” Tohma waves at them as they exit the gym, starting their search on the ground floor classrooms.

Back where you were, you’d been following the guy for at least 2 minutes now. He said he’d lead you to the gym...but...it seemed as if there was less and less people to wherever he was taking you. It was the ground floor, at the end of the hallway where lockers lined both side of the walls. Suddenly the guy’s hand is wrapped around your wrist and he pulls you towards him. You instantly resist, pulling your wrist back and keeping away from him. “I-I just want to go back to the gym, my team is waiting for me,” 

You steel your gaze at the guy. If he thought you were just going to stand there and take his blatant disrespect for your personal space, he was wrong. But his next move leaves you feeling disgusted, your skirt hikes up and he grins. “Stop!” you screech and twist your wrist away.

Tartaglia halts in his tracks at your familiar voice. His head turns just as his other three companions does. 

The scene unfolding before him makes. him. see. red. 

Hell, he doesn’t even see anything except the image of him punching that grin off of that guy’s face. His vision zones in on the bastard’s features, he strides over, in less than 5 seconds reaching towards the guy’s collar and slamming him on the nearest locker. “The hell do you think you’re doing?!” You’ve never seen him so angry before, but the realization of what happened has you cowering away, feeling like some dirty thing that was played around with. 

“Tartaglia, ease up!” Tohma runs to try and restrain Tartaglia’s arms. He shoots a look at Xiao who immediately turns around to get the rest of the team, particularly his captain. Kazuha strides over to you, watching as you faced away and looked at the ground, ashamed. 

Kazuha was never one to resort to violence, nor was he particularly a resentful guy. But he feels it. He feels the hatred rush through his veins, but he focuses on you instead. “You’re alright, Y/N,” he places a hand on top of your head and smooths your hair down just as the others arrive. 

Tohma is barely holding on to Tartaglia, his strength matches his fury, but Diluc finally arrives and together with Tohma, successfully pulls Tartaglia away from the guy. 

“Calm down,” the red haired spiker insists, to which Tartaglia only shouts, eyes engulfed in fury and piercing the offender with his gaze. 

“This fucker touched Y/N!” 

Zhongli, Kaeya and Diluc freeze at the news. Their heads slowly turn towards the attacker. 

And now all set of 8 eyes on him are menacing, cold and unforgiving.

How dare he.

But Diluc holds his ground, restraining Tartaglia. 

Zhongli’s head turns towards your frame, seemingly meek and tiny and tears pooling around your eyes. 

Xiao hurries next to you as he arrives, the displeasure on his face was immense, specially when he starts wiping off the tears cascading down your cheeks. He grits his teeth “Don’t waste your tears on someone like him,” he knew well that you must have felt ashamed, and that your tears were not something you could control, but it was the best thing he could say. 

It was Kaeya, unrestrained and gurgling with hot anger that lifts his fist up.

But it was not his fist that connects with the offender’s jaw.

It was not his hands that pulled the offender up by his collar once again.

And it was not him who states “Do not come near her again. Don’t even look at her,” 

The whole team freezes. 

It was their captain.

The captain that was always calm and collected. Who always tried to stop fights and apologize for the inconveniences that his team caused. There’s a shiver that runs up the member’s spines at the feral look on their captain’s face. 

And then he drops the guy on the ground once again. The offender panicking and crouching backwards and away from them. “We should report it to someone,” Albedo, sensible and smart as ever, suggests. “...but throwing a few more punches in doesn’t seem so bad...” he adds and narrows his eyes at the guy.

“No, don’t. Let’s not waste our energies,” you firmly say and wipe the remaining tears away from your eyes. Kaeya moves over to your side and slides his jacket off of him and places it around your shoulders. “Okay, princess, whatever you want, we’ll just drop him off at the principal’s office and make a report,” when it really counted Kaeya’s flirtatious nicknames for you were quite reassuring. You smiled up at him a little.

Zhongli passes another glance at you, his fist is still tight next to him but he hoists the guy up and has Tartaglia come with him, since he was the one who saw everything. 

The rest of the team turns to you, with Tohma taking your hand and leading you back to the gym. “You’re okay, Y/N, we’re here,” and sure enough they keep close enough to you to fend off anyone else. Like wolves protecting their pack. You knew the chances of that happening again was slim, but seeing them so concerned and circled around you like a shield was really what you needed right now. 

“...Thank you,” you whisper to them as you arrive at the unfamiliar gym. They all turn back to you with a smile. 

“We’ll beat them to the ground at this game, Y/N, you’ll see,”

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[ptergwen]

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

-

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

[nev3rfound]

small changes have the biggest impact : b.b

being with bucky, you've learnt to be rather observant, but when it comes to small changes about yourself you seem to be rather oblivious. that is until you start to pick up on the small signs that you might be pregnant (1.3k)

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requested: yes! by the very sweet @marry-me-calum-hood warnings: none that I'm aware of, but if there any please let me know!

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

Standing in front of the mirror, you could see him eyeing you from the bed. He was watching your movements closely, noticing you swaying from side to side and glancing at your ass from various angles.

“Does my ass look bigger to you?” Running your hands over your curves, Bucky licks his lips. "James?"

Snapping Bucky out of his thoughts, your glare breaks his daydream. "I, I mean," He stutters over his words and watches your gaze lower to the floor. "baby, I mean," Rising to his feet, Bucky rushes over. Now resting his hands on your hips, he kisses your neck sweetly. "you know, back in my day,"

He listens as you groan loudly, pulling his hands off of you as you spin to face him.

"If you dare start one of your old man stories, Buck," You roll your eyes, moving past him to pick up the nearest hoodie and slip it on, exiting your bedroom before he can say anything else.

*

"So, you all know the plan?" Steve questions, looking around at the three of you before the door lowers.

Scoffing lightly beside you, Bucky rests his hand on your waist. "We know the drill, Captain." Bucky salutes, not missing Steve rolling his eyes as he picks up his shield. "How you feeling today, doll?"

Bucky isn't oblivious, far from it. He's noticed some small changes in your attitude of late, how much you're now tugging on clothes or hiding your body from him. You've been feeling queasy during training or sit it out entirely when usually you're volunteering to fight your boyfriend at any given opportunity.

"I don't know, Bucky." You admit quietly, not wanting to draw attention from either Nat or Steve whilst their backs remain turned. "My suits been feeling a bit snug, and I know Tony didn't have it dry cleaned so it's not shrunk."

Humming to himself, Bucky can't help his eyes from wandering over your body. "You look beautiful, Y/n. If anything you're looking curvier." He comments quietly to you, brushing his lips across your cheek with a smile before Steve glances back to see you both.

"You two good?" Steve asks.

"Yeah." You nod, moving away from Bucky and stand beside Natasha. "Let's do this." You force a smile on your lips as Bucky's words linger in your mind. Bucky doesn't mean any harm, and you know that, but for some reason, it's hitting you deeper than it should.

Exiting the jet with Natasha, you follow after her instead of going with Bucky. "Hey, you two alright, pal?" Steve notices the frown forming on Bucky's face and his eyebrows furrowing together as you turn left into the building whilst he heads right trailing behind Steve.

"I think so." Bucky states uncertainly. "Y/n's been feelin' a bit off." He explains, keeping his gun raised behind Steve.

Once inside the building, Steve keeps his shield up whilst Bucky remains behind. "Nat said the same to me earlier." Steve remarks. "Told me she's got this glow." He shrugs his shoulders, unaware of Bucky's eyes widening.

"Glowing?" Bucky repeats. "Oh my god." He laughs lightly to himself, starting to put the events of the past six weeks together. "I, I've gotta find Y/n."

"Buck," Steve sighs, glancing over his shoulder to see Bucky already exiting the building, muttering through the comms for your location.

"Hate to say lover boy but Y/n's back on the jet." Natasha groans, causing Bucky's pace to quicken.

"Is she okay? What happened?" Bucky questions with urgency seeing the jet coming into view.

"Relax, she was just sick." Natasha rolls her eyes, continuing through the building. "She thought it would be best to sit it out. we can handle it."

"Thanks again, Nat." Your voice quietly interrupts their line, and Bucky can feel his heart rate calming at the sound of your soft words, the reassurance you're fine and close by.

Forcing yourself upright you grab a hold of the nearest gun, keeping it trained on the door as movement begins to stir outside. Taking a deep breath, you position your gun, ready to fire as it opens.

"Woah, doll, it's me!" Bucky yells, holding his hands up as he's greeted with a gun cocked in his direction.

"Oh," A nervous laugh sounds from you before you lower the gun to your side. "sorry 'bout that, Buck."

Dropping his own gun, Bucky hesitantly walks toward you. "Baby, is everything okay?" Bucky scans your face, noticing how your brief smile drops, allowing yourself to relax and you shake your head.

"I, I'm not sure, James." You whisper, closing your eyes.

Bucky pulls you over to the seats on the sides of the jet, sitting beside you he rests your hands in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles delicately.

"It's me, Y/n, you can tell me anything." He quietly reminds you.

"I know." You sigh, forcing your eyes open to face his, only to see him looking back at you with all the confidence in the world. "Bucky, I, I think I might be pregnant." An involuntary laugh escapes your lips, quickly followed by a small cry as you clasp your hand over your mouth, tearing it from Bucky's grasp.

"Oh, Y/n." Bucky hushes, lifting his arm to bring you into his embrace as you sob into his chest.

"Are you, are you disappointed? I, I haven't done a test yet, but it makes sense, right?" You ramble, staring down at the floor.

Removing his arm from around you, Bucky mutters your name. "You, you really think I'd be disappointed?" It hurts his heart, that you'd think something like this would upset him. "Doll, this is everything I've ever wanted, but only if you do too."

Reaching for your chin gently, Bucky lifts your head up to see tears lining your cheeks whilst your lips quiver. "You, you want this?" You manage to ask between sobs.

"With you, always." Bucky reassures you, barely having time to process before you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest. Smiling to himself, Bucky rests his arm around your back, listening as your sobs subside. "We're going to be a family, Y/n." He states, listening to how natural it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"Then we better get you back in one piece." Natasha speaks up, breaking you two from your moment as she and Steve stand in the doorway with the files you all came for. "Can't have lil Natasha hurt." She winks before taking her seat opposite you.

"Or Steve," Steve comments, lowering his shield before patting Bucky's arm lightly.

"Yeah, no," You chuckle, remaining in Bucky's arms as you look over to your friends. "but nice try, guys."

Natasha smirks to herself whilst Steve tries not to frown. "Either way, we're getting you back in one piece, that's our niece or nephew in there." Steve points to your stomach, causing Bucky to cover it with his hand protectively.

"Don't you two worry," Bucky smiles down to you. "we've got it covered."

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

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[hlizr50]

Aggressive Affirmation

My first Elorcan fic, y'all. And it's smut.

It wasn't supposed to be smutty, but things escalated.

I'm not sorry.

Lorcan is sick and tired of Elide not acknowledging the incredible things that she has done. She doesn't give herself enough credit, doesn't see what she has to offer the home she hopes to rebuild. Lorcan encourages her to admit that she is intelligent, brave, and strong.

Read on AO3

Lorcan hadn’t even attempted to hide his wide grin when Elide had agreed to ride with him. It still surprised him that he could feel so carefree with her, so comfortable with letting his emotions dance across his features. But it was only for her. She had torn down every wall, crashed through every locked door, even faced death to earn his vulnerability. And he would pay it back in spades.

The midnight-haired beauty had rolled her eyes, still seemingly unaware of how her proximity to him could spark such an exuberant reaction. Lorcan found it difficult to understand how she didn’t presume she was the most incredible thing to have happened in the many years of his life, a strong woman in possession of near-bottomless bravery, fierce intelligence, and unbreakable dedication to the people and land she loved.

The journey would not be the longest they had together, though it would most certainly be the safest. Lorcan allowed himself to relax, as much as he could, and enjoy the feeling of the woman wrapped in his arms.

His wife.

The last time they had ridden like this he had been at death’s door, Elide urging the mount onward toward the keep at Anielle. What a relief it was to be with her now – to wrap his arms around her. As if to remind himself of what she felt like, his hand widened across her stomach, fingers stretching to feel as much of her as he could. Lorcan was pleased to find that her ribs were no longer so present below the tunic she wore, their time in Orynth slowly erasing the effects of months – perhaps years – of scarce food and near constant fear.

Soft strands, black as his own, brushed over his hands as he held Elide tighter against him. She turned her head, tilting her chin up to cast him a sidelong glance.

“What are you doing?” Her question was reflected in those fathomless eyes that he swore he could drown in. Lorcan grinned, dipping his chin to brush his lips over her forehead.

“Just thinking, wife,” he answered. “Of the last time we were on a horse like this, after you rode out into hell even when the mightiest of soldiers were retreating into that keep.” Elide’s lashes lowered as she looked away, as she often did when confronted with her own strength. “And how you thought up the plan that would defeat Erawan. And how you ran him through to keep him immobile so Yrene could finish him off.”

Silence was his only answer.

Lorcan sighed but let the quiet persist. His thumb traced back and forth over her abdomen, a motion that was meant to be soothing to her, but seemed to bring him comfort, as well. A spring breeze whispered past them, carrying the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves on the trees lining the road. And echoing louder than any of the sounds of their journey was his wife’s silence.

“Elide.”

She didn’t answer, but she turned her head again and traced her fingers over his forearm.

“What’s wrong?” he prodded.

“Nothing,” she murmured, even as he felt her tense against his chest.

“You lie,” Lorcan crooned. “I know you better than I used to, Elide. You may be the cunning liar that thawed my cold heart, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let it go. Tell me what’s bothering you.” His wife heaved a sigh, sagging into him.

“I am… anxious. About returning to Perranth,” she mumbled, turning her face forward again. His brows furrowed, lips pursing in confusion. Returning home, finding her queen, and rebuilding the city had been her aim as long as he’d known her – likely far longer.

“Tell me why.”

And just like that her back was straight again, shoulders tense, the small space between their bodies like a chasm. Lorcan’s eyes narrowed.

“Elide.”

Still she didn’t answer.

And judging from her reaction to his praise moments before, knowing her, Lorcan had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why she was hesitant. It grated against him, how little she thought of herself – how she refused to acknowledge her many feats of bravery and strength.

A snarl rumbled through his chest as he swung down from the saddle. He grabbed Elide before she had the chance to give a startled yelp and tossed her, gently, over his shoulder.

“Lorcan! What in the gods names are you doing?!” she shrieked. Ignoring her protest, he turned to their travel companions and dipped his chin.

“We’ll catch up,” he grumbled with a scowl before stalking off toward the tree line. This nonsense needed to end, sooner rather than later.

“Lorcan Lochan, you put me down this instant!”

His lips ticked up at his new surname, and he was glad she couldn’t see his amusement. He found a small clearing, a boulder jutting out of the grass. Schooling his features, he carried the still-grumbling woman to the rock, pulling her back over his shoulder and plopping her gently atop it.

“Why?” he demanded, eyes boring into her midnight pools that darkened with confusion. Lorcan released a frustrated sigh. “Why don’t you see your own worth, Elide?” He studied her with a frown as her eyes widened and her lips parted in a gasp.

“Lorcan?” she breathed. He ran a hand through hair that had become unruly in his less-than-graceful prowl into the woods. Then, taking a deep breath, he cupped her cheeks, allowing callused thumbs to graze over her high cheekbones.

“Do you think you’re strong, Elide?” Her eyes narrowed as she stared back at him, uncertainty painted across her pale features. Her answer, however, came quickly and assuredly – proof to the male that her belief was deep and unyielding.

“No.”

Lorcan flinched.

He lowered his gaze, doing all in his power to keep his breathing even. It was all he could do not to pace across the clearing in anger and frustration. “Elide-“

“I’m a cripple, Lorcan.” Her voice trembled slightly, and his eyes shot back to hers. They were hard. Uncompromising. As if her perceived weakness was just an unfortunate truth that she had come to terms with. Gods, it enraged him so – that she had practically been raised to believe that she had such little value. “I can barely walk, much less fight. I was a prisoner in my own home. For years. And after that I was little more than a slave. For ten years I was only allowed to live because someone else willed it. And in those ten years I did nothing for Perranth, for Terrasen. And what have I to offer now?” Lorcan cursed the shimmer of silver in her lashes as she pulled his hands away from her face and lowered her chin.

“I can’t even read, Lorcan,” she whispered wetly, her delicate hands clutching his. With a growl he pulled his hands away, fisting them in his hair as he, indeed, began stalking back and forth across the clearing. His ire was a living thing, writhing under his skin. What he would give to have her uncle in front of him now, so Lorcan could tear him apart like he deserved.

“Are you angry with me?”

The roaring in his head ceased in an instant, the timid question ringing clear as a bell through the heat boiling in his blood. He practically ran back to her, grabbing her face again.

“I’m not angry with you, love. Never. But it is absolutely infuriating that you believe it. That you have been made to believe it” Lorcan leaned pressed his forehead against hers. “You, Elide Lochan, are one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. I have fought beside fae and humans, men and women, the legendary and the ordinary. You are brave and strong and so incredibly clever.”

The lithe woman in his grasp opened her mouth to argue, but he pushed her chin back up.

“It…” He swallowed, realizing the vulnerability he was about to show. “It hurts me, Elide. When you just dismiss all the amazing things you’ve done. When you speak as if you have nothing to offer your queen, your home. When I found you, you were walking to Terrasen. And I have no doubt you would have made it. You picked up an axe against the Ilken. You rode out into the hell of Anielle in the face of certain death. You concocted the plan that defeated Erawan. Someone who is weak would not have done any of those things.”

Elide’s eyes bore into his, wide and shimmering. He leaned away, trailing his hands down her arms until he could link their fingers. Lorcan didn’t dare break that gaze, didn’t want to.

“Please. Please, try to acknowledge that. For me.”

“Well that’s not fair,” she laughed, tilting her head back. “Not when you put it that way.”

“I never said I would fight fair, wife,” Lorcan chuckled, then leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss, moaning when she immediately opened up to him. He explored her with his tongue – he would never get tired of her mouth on his.

Elide pulled back, breathing ragged. “We should probably get back,” she sighed. “They probably think we’re doing any number of questionable things.”

His large hands found her hips and tugged her to him, earning a startled giggle. “Well I would hate for them to be wrong.” He kissed her again, sliding his fingers below the band of her breeches. She gasped against his lips, and he snickered in response.

“Lorcan,” she hissed as his lips moved to her jaw, planting kisses up the sharp line. A murmured ‘mmmm’ was his only response as his fingers deftly unknotted the ties to her pants. “Lorcan, people will talk!”

“Let them talk.” His voice was like silk against the shell of her ear. “There is nothing wrong with a male wanting to pleasure his wife.” Elide’s hands fisted his hair, and he slid a hand between her legs to dip a finger into her. He felt her soft cry vibrate against his lips at her throat as his finger slid further, finding heat and wetness. “It would seem that your protests aren’t entirely heartfelt, Elide,” he purred against her neck, inserting a second finger.

“Oh Gods!” she panted. With a growl, he lifted his head and crushed his mouth over hers – a possessive, demanding kiss. He pistoned his fingers inside her, bringing the heels of his palm to rub against that sensitive bud. She mewled against his lips, and he pumped his fingers deeper as he swallowed every gasp and moan that lifted from her throat. Lorcan pulled back, watching Elide’s delicate flushed features lift and scrunch, reacting to the pleasure he was giving her. He wrapped his arm around her, supporting the small of her back with a hand that nearly spread the entire width of her body. When he brushed his callused thumb over that bundle of nerves, he felt her body tremor against him.

“How do you feel, wife?” he snickered, fingers never faltering. Her breathing became increasingly erratic, those little noises growing more frantic.

“Godsdammit,” she cried. He plunged his fingers as deep as they could go and held them there, then flicked his thumb across her again. Her hips bucked as she howled.

“If you want to cum, you will do as I say,” Lorcan growled, a feral grin spreading his lips. “Do you want to cum, Elide?” He wiggled his fingers inside her for emphasis.

“Yes! Gods, Lorcan,” she groaned. He started pumping inside her again, slowly and deliberately. He leaned in so his lips brushed right under her ear.

“Tell me that you are brave, Elide,” he crooned, continuing his ministrations.

“Wh-what?” Elide panted, pleasure and arousal clouding her comprehension of his request. He flicked his thumb over her again, her body convulsing.

“Tell. Me,” he demanded. He could feel her body shuddering around him, and he kept his rhythm slow and steady, drawing out her pleasure and forcing her to wait for her release.

“I- I’m brave!” Her voice cracked as her breath sawed in and out of her. “Lorcan!”

“Tell me you’re intelligent,” he murmured, pace increasing ever so slightly. Elide moaned, a guttural sound from her chest.

“I’m intelligent! Gods, please Lorcan,” she begged. Her fingers clung desperately to his shoulders, and he felt her trembling as she rode his hand.

“Tell me that you are strong, Elide.” His mouth dipped to the soft, sensitive skin below her ear, suckling there as he curled his fingers inside her. “Say it, love.”

“I- I… I am strong!” she gasped. Satisfaction rumbled through his chest. Her frantic pants surrounded him as he unleashed himself, long fingers pumping and thumb grinding into her most sensitive spot.

“Yes, you are. Now cum for me,” Lorcan groaned against her before lifting his head, watching his wife as she rode his fingers. A reverent smile graced his features as she finally found her release with a hoarse scream. Pulling her panting form against him he tucked her head under his chin, a hand stroking through her hair and over her back while he pulled his other hand away from between her thighs. “You are strong. You are beautiful. Perranth is lucky to have such a woman to lead them, and the world is fortunate that you saw fit to help save it. Never forget that.” He pressed his lips to her hair as he listened to her breathing return to normal.

“I love you, Lorcan Lochan.” Elide’s contented sigh vibrated against his chest, dainty fingers tracing soft paths over his stomach. How long had he lived, never knowing that happiness like this could exist for him?

“I love hearing that name. Knowing it’s mine.” Lorcan pushed her shoulders, gently pulling them apart so he could press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you, Elida Lochan.” Reaching down, he tightened the laces to her breeches. He knew the rest of the ride probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable, and he cursed inwardly that he had been so impatient that he hadn’t at least thought that it would be better to just take them off. “We’ll find an inn tonight. Get you a proper bath. Get these clothes washed.”

A dusting of pink colored her cheeks, realization of why she would need those things heating her face. Lorcan chuckled and stood, letting a hand graze her jaw and tuck a lock of onyx silk behind her ear. “Come, wife,” he declared as he swept her up in his arms, cradling Elide against him as he started walking toward the road. She giggled, winding her arms around his neck and craning to plant a kiss on his cheek. Lorcan smiled down at her, grateful for the path that had led him to her. Grateful that their futures were forever intertwined.

“Let’s get you home, Lady of Perranth.”

Tag list: @tealnymph-writes @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @positivewitch @tanvee1231 @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @katiebellf @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430

*NOTE* I used the tag list that I have used for all my other fanfic posts, but those have all been ACOTAR. If you would like to not be tagged in Throne of Glass or From Blood and Ash posts, please let me know. Otherwise, I will continue to use the same tag list for all of my fanfic posts!

[one-rosy-sock]

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

[dovechim]

blessed be the fruit 01 (m)

➾ 3.6k, taehyung x reader, future OT7

➾ loosely based off The Handmaid’s Tale. In the New World Order that is Gilead, your life depends on your ability to bring a new one into existence. 

➾ warnings: unprotected sex, mentions of infertility, pregnancy, mentions of dubcon

➾ a/n: I had serious hesitation and doubts about this. but after a three month break and looking at it from a distance, I still want to go ahead with this AU because I want to draw attention to the themes of reclaiming agency & identity whilst under oppression. So I hope that you could get the message I’m trying to convey rather than focus on the noncon indubitably present in this AU. 

I'm saying this to clearly outline my intentions, for I do not condone rape or non-consensual sex whatsoever. 

that being said, I have plans to turn this into an ot7 series fic, but here is a little starter just to kind of test the waters a little :-) if you’re here, I've already warned you about what you’re signing up for, so please skip this if uncomfortable and refrain from sharing any malicious thoughts with me.

Crimson is the colour that denotes life. But these days, only the rare few have the privilege to don that colour; the deep red hue of the cloak that is meant to simultaneously draw attention to, and also hide your figure.

Handmaids are to be seen and not heard. They are to speak only when spoken to. The white wings that adorn either side of your head keep your gaze lowered reverently at all times. Meek and subdued, but always watching, waiting.

The supermarket is quiet and orderly as you stroll through the aisles with your partner close by your side. You have never seen more than a glimpse of her face, neither have you heard more than a few words of her voice other than the greetings you exchange when you meet every morning.

Even the task of grocery shopping, which you used to enjoy before the rise of Gilead, has become nothing but a sham. There is no decision to be made. Your purchases are entirely dependent on the coupons given to you by the Wife of your Household. Today, it’s the usual rice and vegetables, with one or two oranges thrown in as a request from the Cook.

“Under His Eye,” you murmur as you pass the other Handmaids and their partners, all doing their shopping with their partners.

You can’t see it with your head lowered, but there are armed guards stationed throughout the grocery store with guns cocked and menacing stares. The Eyes are always watching and listening, and you begin to feel suffocated.

“I believe I have everything I need,” you speak in a lowered voice, turning slightly to your partner, thinking of how to best hurry her along without making it too obvious. “Is there anything else you lack?”

“I too, am done, OfJeon,” your partner replies back, and you have to physically stop yourself from flinching.

Even though it is the proper way to address another Handmaid, you avoid using the names bestowed upon you by their Household’s Commanders. You try your best to not associate yourself with that name, for fear that you might come to forget your own in due time, but it gets more and more difficult as the days go by.

‘Of’ denoting possession, and ‘Jeon’ for your Commander’s last name. Put together, they form your identity, the identity that Gilead has carved out for you as an object.

The moment you forget your real name is the moment you lose yourself.

“Let us depart, OfPark,” you say with tightly clenched lips, grateful for the white wings that hide your bitter expression as you turn toward the exit of the grocery store.

Your basket is heavy with groceries, and the wind whips up your red cloak the moment you step outside. You glance up for a moment to see the gray skies, feel the wind on your cheeks before you dip your head down again, cautious of exposing your face for more than a second.

Here, to blend in is to survive.

“Have you made all the necessary preparation, OfJeon?” Your partner asks as she links her arm through yours, and you begin the slow march home.

You drag your feet slightly, hoping to prolong the walk. Aside from the brief half hour of grocery shopping every day, you hardly get a chance to be outside. To remember what the real world feels like, even though it is changing so quickly every day. You’re too busy trying to memorise the way the wind feels against your cloak that you are caught slightly offguard by OfPark’s question.

“Preparation?” Your voice comes out slightly unsure.

“For the Ceremony, of course,” comes her reply, and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling sharply.

Is it already that time of the month? How could you have lost track?

A lump forms in your throat as you attempt to calm yourself. “Yes, OfPark. Everything is ready.”

You are lying through your teeth, but the thing is, interactions are kept to such a bare minimum that no one knows you well enough to know that you are lying. If today is the day of the Ceremony, it means a visit to the doctor’s this afternoon. Your breath speeds up at the thought of it, palms becoming sweaty.

OfPark comes to a stop outside of your house, and unlinks her arm from yours.

“Blessed be the fruit,” she says by way of farewell.

“May the Lord open,” the automatic response falls from your lips without much thinking.

Then the gates open, and you enter the house quietly, setting your basket on the kitchen counter. You can hear footsteps coming from the main hallway as soon as you take your white bonnet off.

“You’re back, I was just about to send a guard to fetch you.” In her royal blue dress that tapers at her waist and falls nearly to her ankles, the Wife of the Household is always neatly pressed and well put together. Kim Yeri fixes you with an annoyed glare as she brushes her silky blonde hair behind her ear. You haven’t known her by that name in a long while, because like any other woman, she is only to be addressed by her title in society.

“Did you forget your appointment?” She demands, crossing her arms. She has never been outrightly mean to you, yet her manner is far from friendly. But its totally understandable, of course. Which woman would be content knowing her husband was required by law to fuck a baby into someone else?

“No, Madam. The line at the supermarket was-“

“Get in the car. We’re already late.” Yeri is not interested in your excuse as she cuts you off, turning to grab her purse, and her dress flows gracefully behind her slim figure as she walks to the door.

You barely have time to put your bonnet back on, fixing it so that it is presentable once more before following her outside. Yeri is already in the back seat of the black SUV car, and you climb in beside her. You catch a glimpse of Driver Jung’s eyes in the mirror, but quickly glance away before Yeri can catch you.

Drivers aren’t allowed to have Handmaids of their own. Instead, they live to serve the Household of their Commanders. As the car pulls smoothly out of the front gate, you begin to wonder who Driver Jung was before Gilead. If he had loved ones that he lost. If he too, was slowly starting to forget the person he was back then.

The blacked-out windows of the car don’t allow you to see anything outside. It is a tense journey made in complete silence as you can feel Yeri’s annoyance slowly mounting into a barely withheld fury. It is the same every month. You try to sympathise with her, to put yourself in her shoes as someone who has to accompany the woman her beloved husband is to have sex with to a fertility check-up.

When the car stops, Driver Jung rushes out of his seat to open the door for Yeri first, then he crosses to your side and opens your door. You thank him with a shy nod, careful to keep your eyes fixed on the ground as you follow Yeri into the clinic.

The waiting room has about one or two other Wife-Handmaid pairs.  As you walk in, you catch the eye of one of the Handmaids who is heavily pregnant. Her swollen belly protrudes from her red cloak, and her hands look so small in comparison as she strokes her bump reverently. The Wife sits beside her, a look of pride on her face as if she were the one pregnant.

It is such a rare sight to see a pregnant Handmaid these days. Even though the Handmaids were specially selected because of their fertility, your lack of a baby bump is bearing down on you. Each Handmaid is given three chances at each assignment. Three chances to conceive before they are moved to the next Commander. Three assignments in total before she is sent to the Wastelands.

Lining the walls are portraits of Commanders dressed in black, and their Wives dressed in blue, holding little bundles wrapped in white. The couples are all smiling with joy and pride in their eyes.

The Handmaids are nowhere to be seen in the happy families of three.

You don’t know if you should envy or pity the heavily pregnant Handmaid.

Thankfully, due to Yeri’s- or should you say your Commander’s- high status, you are bumped to the front of the line. The receptionist tells you to enter the doctor’s room, but Yeri waves you on with disinterest.

“I can wait outside here, can’t I? She won’t dare try anything,” she says this last part with cold frown, settling herself down on one of the waiting chairs.

“Of course, Mrs Jeon,” the receptionist says with a pleasant smile, then turns to show you into the doctor’s office.

You read the name on the door before you are shuffled into the white, sterile room.

Dr Kim Taehyung.

Two female assistants help you to take off your red cloak and dress you in the standard white gown. You sit on the chair, legs spread wide into the stirrups. The assistants lower a privacy curtain that conceals your face, leaving your lower half anonymous as you hear the door open, then the doctor’s footsteps.

You don’t even get to see his face before you feel his touch on your knees. Dr Kim Taehyung clears his throat before he moves to the side, dipping his gloved hands into a small dish of what you can only assume to be lubrication. The white privacy curtain is nothing but a thin sheet, so you can still make out his figure as he bustles about. You can even see the slope of his nose as he turns his side profile to you for a second.

It’s not until he speaks that you are jolted out of your thoughts by how deep his voice is. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you answer hesitantly, unconsciously crinkling your medical gown in your fist. No one has ever asked how you’re doing.

“That’s great, now let’s have a look, shall we?” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you feel your body relax a little.

He seems to be kind enough, this Dr Kim Taehyung. Much different from the doctor you had on your first visit. Dr Kim Taehyung has his bedside manner down pat, and even though you can’t see his face, he makes you feel a little bit less tense. His voice soothes you as he talks, saying random things about the weather as he spreads your legs.

Dr Kim Taehyung positions himself in between your thighs, and you feel his gloved hands dangerously close to the apex of them. “So, it says here on your chart that tonight is Ceremony night for you.”

“Yes,” you swallow hard at the reminder. “It is.”

“And how are the Jeons treating you? Everything okay at home?” You can feel him spread your lips with his fingers, starting to poke and prod around as you close your eyes.

“Yes. They treat me very well,” you answer.

He must have caught the monotony of your voice, because his fingers pause.

“You know, you can talk to me. If there’s anything you need.” His concerned voice is like a beacon of light, but your eyes dart around the room cautiously.

You think about the millions of things that you could tell him. How unfair it is to be reduced to a walking womb, and yet, how desperate you are, knowing that this is your third month at the Jeon’s household, and if it doesn’t work…

You swallow all of these thoughts with your fists clenched. You can never let your guard down. He might be one of the Eyes, pretending to be kind so that you might let slip a blasphemous comment about your Commander. There’s no way you’ll incriminate yourself like that, so you just keep your mouth shut. After a while, he goes back to examining you.

“… Alright then,” Dr Kim Taehyung says in a resigned tone. “Let me just check you over and make sure everything is good for tonight. This might feel a little uncomfortable, but just relax for me alright?”

You can’t help but tense up, ironically, at his instruction. But then you feel the warmth of one of his ungloved hands on your thigh, and as he bids you to relax again, he slides his fingers into you, and you can feel his fingers, thick and solid. Your thighs twitch, coming into contact with his hips that are in between them, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

“It’s okay… just a little more.”

Then, he withdraws his fingers slowly, and you let out a breath of relief. It didn’t feel bad, definitely not like the first visit where you felt violated. Dr Kim Taehyung’s gentle and respectful manner is… almost pleasant. You’ve long forgotten what it’s like to be treated like a human being, and not just an object.

“Looks like everything’s in shape, you’re due to ovulate these few days,” he declares, taking off his rubber gloves and tossing them in the bin. “Not that it matters, anyway. Jeon’s probably sterile. Hell, all of the Commanders are sterile.”

You freeze at the sound of that blasphemous curse word. But more importantly, you have to make sure you heard correctly.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You watch his shadow behind the sheet as he ticks a few things on your chart.

In this society, ‘sterile’ is a forbidden word. There is no such thing as a sterile man. There are only women who are fruitful, and women who are barren. But you know better than to subscribe to such damning ideology.

“Darling. I’ve seen so many top Commanders’ Handmaids in this room. In and out, month after month they come back and their Wives ask me why they aren’t pregnant yet.” He places a hand on your knee again, and that human contact makes you realise how much you crave the warmth of another person.

At the same time, his words awaken the hollow desperation in your chest. If… if Jeon is really sterile, that means no matter how many times you try, you won’t get pregnant. If all the Commanders are really sterile, then no matter how many assignments you get…

“It’s your third month here, isn’t it?” His kind voice accompanies the gentle stroke of his thumb on your knee.

Before you can answer, he steps away from you, walking to the door and double checking that it’s locked. Then, he’s between your legs again, and this time, his ungloved hands are caressing the top of your thighs. You can feel his hips pressing against you insistently.

“I can help you,” he says in a low whisper. “It’s your last chance.”

Your mind is in a fog. It’s hard to think clearly when you are craving his touch on your body, and the way in which he wraps your legs around his waist so delicately has you wanting to give in. Let this be a form of rebellion. An act of reclaiming your body and your agency, giving it to a man who treats you like a human being, and more importantly, deciding who you give it to. So that when Jeon performs the Ceremony with you tonight, no one but you will have the secret pleasure of knowing that someone else was here before him.

And if you do get pregnant, you will have the last laugh as you watch Jeon raise a baby that isn’t even his to begin with.

How’s that for rebelling? It’s no longer just about getting pregnant.

“I’ve helped many other Handmaids before,” Dr Kim Taehyung continues furtively. “They were all on their third Assignments. I saved them from the Wastelands.”

You don’t need any more convincing. You reach out and pull the thin privacy sheet aside, finally revealing Dr Kim Taehyung’s face. He looks taken aback at your bold actions.

“Do it, Doctor,” you fix your eyes on him with determination. “Get me pregnant.”

Dr Kim Taehyung looks as if he wasn’t expecting you to say yes to him, and delight slowly spreads across his face. But he can’t help himself from bringing one of his hands to your face, brushing your cheek and admiring your silent, resilient beauty.

“U-um, okay. He-here goes,” he fumbles with his dress pants, and the confidence from minutes ago is nowhere to be found. It occurs to you that he might have been fibbing about helping the other Handmaids before you, but it doesn’t matter. It’s no longer just about getting pregnant, anyway.

Thanks to the lubrication, he slides in easily. You catch a glimpse of him before he does, and a second later you feel his girth acutely. During the Ceremony, the lights are always turned off, so you never have a chance to see what Jeon’s dick looks like. If you were to compare, it feels around the same as Dr Kim’s. Except this time, you are doing this of your own accord.

The squeaking of the chair against the floor is deafeningly loud as he begins to thrust earnestly, and the thrill that you could be caught at any moment makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been since the rise of Gilead. You can feel him at your cervix as he grips your thighs, and you make sure to wrap them around him tightly.

In an unprecedented move, Dr Kim reaches down to brush his thumb against your clit, and your walls clench around him in response. He swears under his breath as he shifts his position to rest his elbows on either side of you so that he can increase the strength behind his thrusts.

“Sh-shit, you feel so good,” he groans as he sneaks his hand in between your bodies once more to pinch your clit. No one has cared about your pleasure like this in a long while, and you feel your body responding to his ministrations, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Ha-harder, Doctor,” you feel his cheek press against your breast. “Cum inside me.”

You swear you can feel him twitch inside you, as he bites his lip hard. You have a hard time holding back your derisive laughter as Dr Kim Taehyung gets more turned on than ever. So this is his kink? This is the perfect job for him. Seeing Handmaids who are more often than not desperate to get pregnant, no matter by whom.

You feel a modicum of power back in the palm of your hand, which is more than you’ve felt in ages. The feeling of having power over someone else as you watch the pleasure take over Dr Kim Taehyung’s expression is addictive. The man is losing himself in between your legs, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh. Meanwhile you are the one watching him rut pathetically, straining to reach his end.

“Cum inside me, Doctor,” you say again, squeezing your walls around him and relishing his groan. “I’ll make you cum inside me.”

“Pl-please, call me Taehyung,” he pleads, raising himself up on his elbows to beg for a kiss.

You oblige, watching his desperation slowly take over his entire being. His lips are soft as he kisses you like a man starved, and you wonder who was the last person he kissed like this. Does he kiss all of the Handmaids he impregnates?

The next words you say are perfectly calculated. “Taehyung, I want your baby.”

There’s no reaction other than his hands clenching into tight fists, and his breathing getting harsher and harsher as his cock slams deep into you, and you clench around him one more time, only to feel him fill you up with his cum. The seed that you need to get pregnant and save your own life.

He doesn’t stop thrusting. His cock is still twitching inside you, and you can still feel the cum threaten to leak out. Dr Kim Taehyung lets out a long sigh of contentment as he expertly tilts the chair so that your hips are slightly raised.

When he’s satisfied, he slowly pulls out, eyes glued to the mess in between your legs. Only a little bit of cum is dripping out, and he reaches for a tissue to clean it up. The way he’s looking at you, a little bit too fondly, makes you realise that this is getting a bit too personal for your liking.

“Blessed be the fruit,” you remind him, and the phrase is like magic. You are all reminded of your roles in this society, and the forbidden act which you have both committed.

Dr Kim Taehyung seems to sober up when he hears this, as he tucks himself back into his pants and attempts to straighten his doctor’s coat.

“May the Lord open. You should… um. Stay here for the next ten to fifteen minutes. The nurses will be in to help you get dressed shortly,” he clears his throat as he lets the privacy curtain fall back into place. “And um… good luck.”

He leaves the room hurriedly, and you close your eyes, squeezing your thighs together and feeling the warmth that his cum leaves behind, feeling like your body is finally yours again.

You don’t know how much time has passed before the nurses come in and help you get dressed, and when you walk out of the room, Yeri makes a pointed remark about how long she had to wait. You follow her without a word to the car, waiting as Driver Jung opens the door for her, then you.

All the while, a secret smile upon your lips as you feel the cum from earlier drip down your inner thigh.

[rhaenyratargeryn]

Title: sense

Pairing: Adam x F!detective

Summary: just a little scenario I imagine absolutely happened at some point.

Notes: ao3 link

***

“Oh, thank god— Nate, please be the voice of reason here.”

The detective’s tone was one of intense exasperation, her hand rubbing across her eyes as she stood in the Warehouse kitchen opposite of Adam, who was appearing equally perturbed. A deep line had settled between his brows and he had crossed his arms at her words.

Nate suddenly regretted having not gone the other direction.

“Yes, please. As sense has seemed to have completely evaporated.” Adam countered, his eyes trailing over to Nate expectantly.

At a loss, Nate smiled faintly, “... what am I voicing upon?”

“She is putting herself in a position of unnecessary—”

“Adam doesn’t want me sleeping with my windows open!”

The detective erupts over Adam’s voice, earning a cool glare from the other man. Upon moving his gaze to meet Nate’s utterly bewildered one, his pale skin seemed to flush just a fraction. Realization of just how preposterous the detective’s explanation made him seem flitted across Adam’s eyes for the barest moment before he shoved it down deep.

“It is an issue of safety. Anyone could enter through that flimsy screen.”

“I’m on the second floor!”

“As if such a thing would be an issue for a supernatural.” Adam said, rising up taller, as if he’d won with that statement, “You would be safer staying here if you wished to sleep in such a way.”

“If supernaturals are coming to break into my apartment I don’t think glass or locks would be an issue either!” the detective said, throwing a hand up and out to the side in a gesture of utter annoyance.

Adam had no retort for that.

Nate wondered idly if they would notice if he slipped back out. He got his answer when Adam turned to him, eyes as near to pleading as the older vampire could get.

“She has a point,” Nate said slowly, gauging the way Adam’s expression shuttered.

“Fine.” Adam said with bite, “But do not expect us to come running when you place yourself purposefully in harm's way.”

He turned and exited the kitchen, the detective’s words following behind.

“It’s just a window! For goodness sake!”

Once it was obvious Adam had no intention of returning to the conversation, she sat down with a soft thump into one of the kitchen chairs, attempting to return to her coffee and breakfast with minor success.

“How on earth did this start?” Nate asked after a moment, moving to take a seat across from her with a rueful smile.

“I just mentioned how I was happy the weather was cooling down in the evenings… the air is nice and I sleep so much better at home when it gets all cozy like this.” the detective sighed, “And Adam well— was Adam about it.”

“He just cares.” Nate offered, an insufficient excuse for certain, “This is how he shows it.”

The detective looked doubtful, but did not question the honesty of Nate’s words.

--

There was no way she would stay at the warehouse tonight after that display. The detective returned to her own apartment, throwing open both her bedroom and living room windows the moment she arrived and enjoying the chilly air that had settled in the twilight hours.

She brewed a mug of tea and settled into her plush papasan chair, tucked a few pattern pillows out of the way and opened a book. It took awhile for her to turn her thoughts away from her own act of stubbornness, which had in turn put her back into the argument from that morning.

Theoretical arguments with Adam were a constant daydream, right next to the ones where he didn’t flinch when she reached out to touch his face.

It didn’t help that the novel was littered with romantic subtropes and finally, with a sigh, she closed it after darkness finally settled across the room. The detective closed the living room window a fraction, as was her usual routine and shut off the lights, heading to the bedroom.

That window she left wide open, changing into her pajamas even in full view. No one was typically out on that section of the street this late and she was high up enough not to worry about anyone getting too much of an eyeful. Even so, she changed quickly, keeping her bare back to the glass as she tugged on a large t-shirt.

After, she shut off the lights and curled into bed, sighing contentedly at the way the ceiling fan spread out the chilled, night scent of fresh clean air. It was nice after having to spend so much time keeping the heat out to huddle beneath the blankets and slowly drift off.

The detective had just fallen into a soft dream when her phone chimed. Groaning, she turned her face into her pillow.

The phone chimed again. And again. And then finally began to ring.

Throwing her blankets off, she fumbled for the device in the dark and answered.

“...speaking.” she mumbled, barely annunciating her title and name. On the other end, the familiar voice of a patrol officer greeted her.

“Hey, sorry to bug you so late. You got a sec?”

“Sure, sure.” she yawned.

“We keep getting calls from folks in your apartment block. They say there is some weirdo hanging around. Big hulking type. Got folks worried about break ins. Have you seen anything? I’m halfway across town so I figured I’d save the trip if it was nothing.”

The detective took a deep measured breath, held and let it out.

“It’s okay. I got this.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah. No problem.”

The officer thanked her profusely, apologized again for waking her and then once they hung up, the detective selected a number from her contacts and plopped back against her pillows.

The answer was quick.

“Commanding Agent Du Mortain.” came the clear, professional answer. Too clear. Too professional.

“Where are you?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I am patrolling.”

“Good, maybe you can help me then.”

“Is something wrong?” his voice lifted, the mask of disinterest fading.

“I got a call from an officer. Says a hulking, unscrupulous and unsavory character is loitering around my apartment parking lot.”

Silence.

“Have you seen anyone like that?” the detective continued, unable to hide the smile in her voice.

“Did you tell them it was handled?” came Adam’s terse, unamused response. The detective thought she heard the sound of his footsteps.

“Yes. Ya know, if you want to keep watch? In the future? Do it from inside.”

There was silence for a prolonged moment and then, the detective startled, sitting up and rushing to find the light at her bedside table at the sound that came from her hall.

“I am inside.” came Adam’s voice, both from the phone and the outside of her bedroom door, sounding way too smug.

The detective threw off her covers completely and marched to the door, throwing it open.

“As I said. Entirely unsound. You did not even hear me remove the screen—”

“Adam.” she said, voice terse and annoyed and tired. Whatever she hoped to say next was lost as her shoulders hunched forward and his expression softened a fraction.

It was then he seemed to note more fully her attire, standing before him in nothing but a thread-bare t-shirt that was so large it hung off one shoulder and a pair of boyshorts. The detective felt the sudden tension roil to the surface, warm and familiar and yet distant. Out of reach.

He swallowed thickly and the detective began to wonder just how long he had been outside her window.

“Just stay here… if you’re that concerned.” the detective said with a sigh, turning and crawling back into bed. She turned to look back at him, noting while his body was frozen his eyes had followed her every step of the way, blazing with vibrant green at the sight of her, half-dressed and lazing on the mattress.

“... I… I cannot.” Adam was at a loss, the prospect no doubt making his head spin and his heart hammer as intently as her own.

“You can. Since it isn’t all of the team, you should be able to find a place to sit out there.” she said with a nervous laugh, the spell breaking the moment Adam realized what it was she was offering. Tension rolled off his shoulders, relief in his exhaled breath.

“You meant in the living room.”

“Where else would I have meant?” the detective replied, making a point of lingering near one edge of the bed, leaving the side closest to him open and terribly inviting. For a moment she enjoyed watching the way his breath puffed from his lungs before catching. That tiny flicker of wanting that he snapped back up and hid down deep the moment it dared rear forward.

“I guess you could always bring a chair in here,” she said, yawning and stretching her arms above her head until the t-shirt rose up high on her waist, revealing the bare line of her thighs. She relaxed and watched Adam’s eyes follow the hem back down.

Without a word, Adam vanished from the doorway. For a moment, the detective felt her heart seize, worried she’d pressed too hard.

But in a moment he returned, one of the antique padded, high backed chairs from her small dining table in hand.

He set it by the window, making a point of glancing out over the parking lot before he sat down.

They lingered like that for a moment, the sound of insects, the soft breeze of the wind outside and the gentle whirl of the ceiling fan filling the silence.

“I’m going to turn the light off.” the detective warned quietly. Adam gave a nod. She leaned over and flicked off the switch, sitting for a moment in the darkness until her eyes adjusted and she could make him out.

He was watching her.

She settled under her blankets, stilling once she had become comfortable again and finding the sleep that had been right at the forefront of her thoughts suddenly illusive.

“...well, good night.” she said with a soft, nervous laugh. Her heart was beating fiercely in her chest. She wondered if he could hear it. No. She knew he could hear it. She willed herself to calm, letting her thoughts fade to the daydreams that helped ease her into sleep. Every once in a while she heard him shift, the sound of fabric, of the chair. His presence was a soothing one, even if it did also make her heart skip and patter in her breast.

It took awhile, but eventually her pulse settled and slowly she drifted back off to sleep.

--

The sound of her heart was like that of a rabbit caught in a snare at first, thrumming with beats and the flow of her blood, rippling like a stream. Adam had felt his own racing to match, falling in pace now as it settled and slowed.

He tried not to move. Not to make a sound. As if doing so would make his being here less— real. Less present.

It did not help.

It only took an hour or so before he could tell she was truly and wholly asleep, her soft breaths deep and even. At that point, Adam felt himself finally able to relax, able to set fully to the task of keeping a watch out over the complex.

This was why he preferred her to stay at the warehouse. Where he could stand watch without her ever knowing he was there. Which he did—every night she stayed with them. Distance made his chest ache, restrictive and demanding. Searching. As if his heart would escape his ribs if it could to seek her out, only calmed when she was near.

Adam knew this was not just fear for her safety. Knew it was deeper than that, but still refused to place the words that so obviously described the feeling to it.

But now, in the dark, in the quiet calm, he let them flit through his head.

He missed her when she was gone. Without reason. Without sense. Which was why he tried to attribute something rational, something vaguely resembling reason when he argued why she should remain at the warehouse. With them. With him.

This, Adam supposed, was suitable enough.

She shifted in her dreams, the blanket pulling from her legs as she clung to it. After a moment, she shivered. Adam stood, pulling one of the soft quilts from the bed out and laying it over her. He smoothed his hand down her leg from the knee, resting his palm on her ankle until she calmed once more.

He had to fight the urge to lift his hand, to retrace the soft path it had just taken. When the feeling was well under control, he returned to his spot by the window.

When the sun rose, Adam would be gone.

But for now, he closed his eyes and listened to her breathe.

[mysteriesgalplusdamianthings]

Homeward Bound (NSFW)

This is a small snipit from my damimaps oneshot. This was based on a prompt wish list from @gumbloodygirl I really like, there were like eight other prompts that I might take a gander at later down the road but this stood out to me.

This one was where Maps and Damian venture back to Gotham with a little surprise for the fam, after a whole year of raising their child away from home.

So a big thank you @gumbloodygirl for the prompt.

Warning: it has smut obviously, so read at your own risk.

Here's the link if you want to read the rest of it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32561929

Happy Reading!!!!

Maps felt uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

She breathed laboriously shifting awkwardly in her bed, groaning as she did, her eyes slowly fluttered open to be faced with her ceiling. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes, reaching up to rub leisurely at them. Maps wanted to spread out her aching body but found that she couldn't, what she first had noticed was that she felt somewhat pleasantly warm. The second was a substantial weight laying on her bare chest.

Ah, now she remembers, Maps thought fondly.

She sighed contently as she reached down to run her thin fingers through his soft hair, she heard a soft moan from the man on top of her as he snuggled up closer to her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Maps placed a soft kiss on his head before she looked over at her clock and read two-thirty in the morning.

The soft glow of the moonlight casting through her window was the only source of light she had, permitting her to turn her attention back to Damian, studying the defined lines and contours of his face to her heart's content. His head rested comfy buried between her breasts, as one of his legs was tucked snugly in between both of hers; so she's entirely and utterly wrapped up in his warmth.

Enwrapped in him.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute he looked sleeping on her like this. She ran her thumb across his swollen lips reviving their last-night activities that lead up to this cherished minute. They had basically planned to have a late pizza date night, by starting the evening off with watching a whole marathon of shark week together. Not even ten minutes into the first episode did they venture off into something else... now laid a half-empty box of cheese pizza on their nightstand and a still paused shark week on their tv.

Maps contemplated reaching over for the remote to shut the tv off, but feard waking Damian up in the process. So she settled for leaving it on, they could continue it later on if they had time.

Especially since Damian had promised they'd finish the episode after they were done with their lovemaking, but he had immediately fallen asleep after a few rounds of them tumbling unitedly between sheets with sweet nothings and desperate kisses.

Although, Maps couldn't find it in herself to be upset or even annoyed at their plans being ruined. Moments like this were somewhat of a rare occurrence in their day-to-day life, however, it's not so much due to work or patroling that's been necessarily keeping them busy.

So this was a welcoming atmosphere; or the calm before the storm.

Maps let out a weary sigh.

She knew the conversation she was going to have with him wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was something she needed to address. She can't keep putting this on hold anymore, it wasn't healthy and they both knew it is the right choice for the three of them, for everyone.

She gazed in thought up at the ceiling, pondering on how to go about telling him.

Maybe she could get Dick to convince him? Or Alfred? They always knew what to say to get Damian to compromise.

Maps slowly maneuver her hand from his hair and down his back, her fingers rippled over the many scars and burns he's obtained over the years. She sighed again, as she gets to thinking about the new chapter in their life.

Leaving their new home in Arlington for Gotham.

It was a big step, an overwhelming, terrifying, and nerve-racking step, all at a cost for various reasons.

The main one relates to the boy who is at the moment using her as a body pillow; namely the life he left behind to start a new one with her to be exact. It had happened about a year ago, when she had discovered she was pregnant with Damian's child.

It had been the happiest moment of their lives, knowing that there was a life growing inside of her. It was at that realization that they decided to move, to find a place that wasn't surrounded by its own corruption, a place with new beginnings, a place where they can just leave everything behind and start anew.

They had found that place here in Arlington, yes, of course, it had its pros and cons but it was nice and it was theirs.

But unfortunately, they had moved before their son Isaac was born.

So the family had never gotten the chance to meet him. Their little bundle of joy; the light of their life. And that was something Maps wasn't too thrilled with, no she was absolutely not having any of it.

No matter what happened in their past, or what Gotham consisted of, the bats were Isaac's family too and they have every right to see their nephew and be a family with him.

Damian was just going to have to accept that.

She didn't care if she had to move back to Gotham by herself. Isaac was going to meet the people she now calls her family. Although she will admit, she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive about what the future holds for them, all of them really.

Moving back to Gotham could mean chaos and trouble, but dammit' it was still her home, she grew up there with all her friends, and had even found the love of her life in that godforsaken city.

Gotham may be an eternal damnation, but she had so many treasured memories there. Even if it was a shared agreement between the two of them to leave the city, it hadn't made the move any easier.

And it's not like she wants to leave without her husband... but he can be so selfish and stubborn at times. Maps chewed on the inside of her lip anxiously, or maybe she was the one being selfish?

She glanced down at Damian's sleeping form, so peacefully, completely unaware of the war going on in her head.

"Stop thinking already," he mumbles into her chest.

Or maybe not.

"Damian, did I wake you?" Maps asked, watching him shift lightly.

"You're pinching me," Damian grumbles shifting again and away from her hand.

She looked over and found herself pinching at one of his prominent scars, something she had picked up a year into their marriage, it was a small habit she did when she was thinking hard about something. She smoothed her hand down his back then up to his hair again, pressing another gentle kiss to his head.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Maps whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Damian settled back into her as he sighed into her bosom. Maps felt his hot breath spread up to her neck, she slightly shivered as heat spread throughout her body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice sleep-laden and spent.

Maps pause for a moment, now is a good of a time as any to tell him. Better rip the band-aid off now before she chickens out.

She breathes in then out to calm her racing heart, her chest heaved with effort. She let the silence settle in to collect herself some more before answering him.

She breathed then said, "I want to move back to Gotham," she quietly declares into the silent air, hoping her rapid beating heart would just calm down already. Damian stays silent for a moment or two, laying completely still, listening to the beats of her heart.

Maps bit her lip hard as her nerves rush up in her stomach and then into her chest, she was always making declarations like this in the worst times.

Maybe she should have waited until he was fully rested... but then he'd have more energy to argue back with her if she did.

Her hand stills in his hair as she franticly tries to backtrack her statement, but stopped in her mid-panic attack as she felt him move to sit up, now he's staring down at her with a serious look coating his eyes.

He doesn't look mad... but he doesn't look too happy either.

"Why?" he asked the question simply as if he was trying to understand, voice taught and probing. Maps reached her hands up to wrap one around his neck and the other to stroke his cheek gazing up at him with warm pleading eyes.

She smiled as he leaned into her touch, "I want your family to meet our son, I want him to have a life with the people we love Damian, I want them to share these precious moments we have with Isaac with everyone else, that's why." Maps replied back in a soft tone to let him know that she was genuine about what she stated, showing her concern for their son's future.

Damian frowned gently, his gaze intensified.

After a moment of quietness, he uttered, "No," with a sharp tone removing her hand from his face. "And that's final, go back to sleep."

"What?" Maps exclaimed hurt and confused, she knew Damian wasn't going to agree so easily but to reject her proposal without so much as a reason why made her angry. And Maps wasn't one to back down so easily, she hastily sat up glaring at him, and shouted.

"Why not? This will be good for him, for us, why can't you see that?" She threw her hands up as the covers slid down to their waist, the two unmoved by the sudden chill of the room hitting their naked bodies.

Damian straightens back his shoulders to appear taller as he glared down at her with equal fervor.

He crossed his arms against his broad chest, "We had both agreed that we will raise our son somewhere that wasn't Gotham, somewhere far away from the caps and cowls and now after building a stationary life here, you want to go back?" Damian shouted back as his eyes glowed a familiar shade of green, Maps wasn't discouraged by it.

"Yes," Maps replied plain and simple, folding her arms across her chest as well. The two stared down at each other, daring the other to back down, but neither was budging.

"No," he repeated again with more power to his voice, Maps rolled her eyes.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't?" she snapped back.

"It's dangerous," he replied.

She scoffed, "Everywhere is dangerous Damian," she spat back rolling her head animatedly, flattening her hands to her hips as if challenging him to continue.

His glare hardened, "Because I said so," he hissed.

"That's not a good reason," she shouted back.

Damian growled, feeling agitated by the minute. He wasn't fully awake to be having this conversation with her, he'll need to turn the tables in his favor. With that idea in mind, an idea pops into his head.

Damian leans in and presses a soft peck to her lips, surprising her for a millisecond before he leaned in further to give her an open-mouth kiss. Maps gasped as she backs away in shock, Damian places his hand on her shoulders gently pushing her down back into the mattress.

Maps had to blink a few times because this was not what she had expected from him.

Maps indistinctly tried to stifle a small groan, as he was now vigorously sucking on her neck, ugh he was being such a complete moron, her stupidly cute moron. Oh God, she loves this man so much, but she's all but ready to punch him in his stupid face.

"D-Damian," Maps shrikes as Damian rubs his thumb against her left nipple.

"Shh, you'll wake Isaac," he muttered into her neck, repositioning himself so he's fully situated between her legs again, which she subconsciously made room for him to do so.

He lies his full body weight on top of her's so the hard planes of his chest was pressed against her soft plump bust.

"I doubt that," she whispered, unsure at the moment, glancing at the door connected to their bedroom that was hosting their child's nursery.

"Anyways we were talking about- ah!" Maps gasped out loud, observing Damian move to bite at her nipple.

"I said no already, will you just drop it," he said kissing the gap between her breast, Maps whined. He pressed his kisses down the valley of her breast, to her navel, all the way down to her pelvic.

He sat upon his knees and forced her legs apart, staring at her wet pussy hungrily, she watched him bow his head between her thighs and gasped as his nose met her hot skin.

Maps clawed at the blankets closing her eyes tight before dropping her head onto her pillow, "H-hey would you sto-mph," his warm breath warned her a second before he brushed his lips against her cunt, spreading her folds with his tongue, he dragged his hot tongue slowly along her clit and teased her.

Humming as his tongue slid in and out of her, running his large hands up and down her quivering legs.

She pulled desperately, trying to pull away, feeling herself become undone by his skillful lips by the second, he grabbed her hips and held her in place keeping her trapped.

She tensed as his tongue flicked over her clit again causing her to jerk upwards, "Ah, Damian!" Maps whispered breathlessly.

He ignored her pleases, pushing a thick finger inside of her, adding another in after hearing a sharp gasp leave her lips. Moving them in and out in time with his mouth, his motions intensified hearing a long sluty moan echo in his ears, he smirked.

"A-at least give it a-ah chance, a month and oh! mph... if you don't like it we could always just m-move back." Maps pleaded, hoping he'd stop distracting her long enough so she could think properly.

But at last, she wasn't going to get such a request any time soon, as Damian moved from her cunt, back up to her neck, then finally her lips. Placing random kisses on her nose, cheek, and forehead still pumping his fingers in and out of her at a vigorous pace.

He was playing a dirty game here.

"Damian-mph" Maps was silenced by his lips connecting with hers grazing a path along her bottom lip with his warm tongue and nips gently with his teeth. Causing her to open her mouth for him so he could deepen the kiss.

Without thinking, Maps wraps her arms around Damian's neck pulling him in closer as their tounges intertwine in a fight for dominance.

Damian won.

Getting lost in the sensation that is Damian, he pulls his fingers free from her throbbing walls causing a short whine from her into their embrace, naturally, he starts grinding into her, creating delicious friction between the two, drawing a deep moan from them both.

Maps couldn't help but grind back into him as their bodies moved like waves together, creating a smooth rhythm. He reached down to knead at her hips and one of her breasts, rolling his index finger and thumb over her right nipple giving it some much-needed attention.

"Damian please," Maps whined breathlessly, Damian couldn't help but smile.

"Please what?" he said teasingly, knowing he now has the upper hand.

"I- you... this- ah! this isn't fair," Maps half-cries and half-moans out loud as he enters her.

"This is fair love," he whispers into her ear as he starts to move in and out of her in slow motions and the occasional roll of his hips, dragging out his thrusts. Causing slight grating against her clit, generating yet another familiar vulgar moan to escape her lips, prompting Damian to moan as well.

Damian sighed heated and sharp in her ear finding her little groans the most enraptured noise to ever grace his ears.

Damian moved his hands down to grip her hips as he thrusts up into her hard. And for a while, the only sound that filled their room was their bodies slapping against each other and scattered breathy moans from the both of them.

"N-no, I-" Maps slides her hands up his chest for leverage as he speeds up his pace, she just couldn't get a single word out for every time she did he'd bottom her out completely stealing her breath away, forgetting what she had wanted to say in the first place.

Damit, she wasn't going out like this.

Maps frowned and leaned up to bit his shoulder, prompting Damian jerk in pain. She quickly shoved him off pushing him to the side so his back was now laying flat on their mattress.

She wastes no time shifting their positions so she was now straddling him, placing both her hands flat on his chest, she looked down at him with dark determined eyes.

"Listen here you idiot," Maps snapped, watching Damian's eyes widen with shock and if she wasn't mistaken... a bit of pride too. "We're doing this whether you like it or not, I already bought the tickets so you can either stay here and sulk while I and your son leave or you can come with us and be a family." Maps huffed angrily, as Damian silently, begrudgingly, contemplated his options.

He sighed closing his eyes, "Fine, but only for a month," he brooded looking like a pouty child.

Maps squealed excitedly leaning down to shower him in kisses and thank you's.

"I promise you won't regret this and this way Isaac can see his uncles and grandpa and-" Damian reached up behind her head smashing her lips against his, he pulled back with a smug smirk.

"Why don't we continue where we left off before you go on your little amusing rant," he suggested placing his hands where her thighs and ass meet.

Maps nodded with a giggle, as Damian began moving her up and down while simultaneously thrusting up into her, picking up his pace where he had left off.

Leaving nothing but soft moans amidst the couple, echoing all throughout the night.

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 9

Helmetless + Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  You make a promise to Din before you leave to meet with your superiors, but will you be able to keep it?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,976

Warnings: fluff, the angst is back people, protective and possessive Din, your superiors are assholes, overuse of italics, swearing, plot plot plot

Author Note: All the love to every single supporter out there! Don’t hate me too much for this segment please.

Links to Part 1 and Part 8 and Part 10

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

“I’m going with you, angel.”

In exactly one hour, you’re due to report back to headquarters. You’ve been loathing this meeting from the get-go, but now, after being matched with Din, the mere thought of leaving him is as painful as a physical blow. You wish you had more time to revel in his heated kisses, the touch of his hands against your skin, the low growls he elicits when you run your nails through his curls.

Deep down, you know as immortal beings you will have an eternity to experience all of these thrills together. But right now the bond you two share as soulmates doesn’t care about the future, only the present. In your mind, it resembles a sapling soaking up every ounce of affection it can from you and Din, craving more and more intimacy in order to become stronger. Just thinking about being separated from him, even for only a short while, makes your chest hurt something fierce, as if a bundle of thorns has become wrapped around your heart.

Din is not immune to the effects of the soulmate bond either. Since his return to Arvala-7 he has not let you out of his sight for longer than thirty seconds. Anyone else, you would have been annoyed by the incessant staring, but with Din you only feel desired and, as sappy as it sounds, cherished in a way you’ve never felt before.

Which makes it all the harder to meet his gaze right now, frowning as you shake your head at him.

“Din, you can’t,” you say quietly, praying your voice doesn’t break because you know it will trigger his overprotectiveness and then you’ll helplessly melt into a puddle of warm emotions. “Only Cupids are allowed at headquarters. No outsiders allowed, not even Death.”

His jaw clenches, displeased by your rebuttal, but his fingers are gentle as they trail across your cheeks. That’s another thing you’ve noticed since he’s reunited with you: his gloves have yet to make a reappearance. It’s like now that you and the universe have assured him of your requited feelings, his iron walls of self-control have crumbled to dust, revealing a lonely, touch-starved soul who has long been told he could never physically connect with someone without the risk of killing them and is now desperate to make up for the lost time.

With this in mind, each time he initiates contact, you always make sure to return the gesture with as much affection as you can muster, whether that be by deepening his kisses or by intertwining your fingers tightly with his when he reaches for your hand. Or, such as in this instance where the two of you are lying together and cuddling on Kuiil’s bed, you take advantage of him having removed his full suit of armor to curl closer against his chest, nuzzling your head beneath his chin.

The Ugnaught had taken Din’s return in stride when he and IG-11 had paused their farmwork outside to check up on you about twenty minutes ago. Upon seeing them, Din had started to untangle himself from you so he could stand to greet them. His lack of urgency to conceal his face surprised you initially, but then you recalled Kuiil already knew Din resembled a human male, meaning at some point during their friendship Din had become comfortable enough to not wear his helmet around him. Petty jealousy swirls inside of you, upset you’re not the only one who knows Death’s true face, but you squash the ridiculous emotion not even a second later. If anyone is worthy enough of seeing Din’s true self, it’s Kuiil.

Before Din could get to his feet, Kuiil had merely shaken his head, saying he didn’t want to interrupt your time together when he knew you had to leave soon. Which is what prompted Din to insist upon himself accompanying you to headquarters.

“I don’t want you anywhere near those bastards,” he mutters darkly, lines of frustration forming ridges along his forehead. He still hasn't forgiven Hess for causing you to have a panic attack.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, not with the intention of stopping his soothing ministrations, but instead grounding yourself in the moment using the skin-on-skin contact. Perhaps, you acknowledge privately to yourself, he’s not the only touch-starved soul in the room. I don’t want to be near them either, you want to tell him. Let’s fly away together on the Crest, somewhere far, far away...

Instead, you force yourself to say with the same carefully even tone, “The meeting should just be an hour or two, then they’ll make me take a reassessment test about Cupid regulations which I’ll pass easily.” You lift your head to peck the bridge of his prominent nose before holding up your pinky finger. “And by later this evening, I’ll be right back here in your arms. Pinky promise.”

Din stares at you for several heartbeats, stubbornness lingering in his gaze before at last he exhales a quiet sigh of surrender. He wraps his pinky around yours, squeezing tightly.

“I thought leaving you behind here was the hardest thing I’d ever have to do, but this—letting you go face them alone and knowing I can’t intervene—it’s a pain I’d only wish upon my worst enemies.”

You want to say something lighthearted, a teasing remark to ease the heavy tension in the room and make that stunning smile of his light up the space instead. Maybe, if you’re funny enough, you can make his precious and lone dimple appear in his cheek so you can press your lips to it. But your words get trapped in your throat, forming a lump that won’t go down no matter how hard you swallow.

You are equally as surprised as you are grateful when Din continues to speak.

“You’re my soulmate, angel, so when I swear these next words to you, I want you to have no doubt I mean them with absolute sincerity,” he says, a possessive and darkly seductive note creeping into his voice that has you instinctively biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning embarrassingly. “If anyone dares to keep you from me even a second longer than what is strictly necessary, I will stain the ground with their blood and reap their soul from their body so slowly they’ll weep for damnation.”

~~~

Headquarters is kriffing freezing.

That’s the first thing you notice when you step inside, goosebumps immediately rising along your arms and a shiver racks your spine as you navigate the maze of hallways towards the center of the building where the conference room is located. Every footstep reverberates off the black marble floors, but the sound isn’t loud enough to prevent you from overhearing the whispering voices of other Cupids watching you pass by, gossiping about your impending interrogation. You’d be angry at them, except that would make you a hypocrite since you’ve also spread a rumor or two about your coworkers in the past. You can feel an increase of anxiety rush through your bloodstream, making you stuff your hands into your pockets lest anyone sees them trembling and laughs.

Your three superiors are already seated and waiting in the conference room when you arrive. You make eye contact with each one, bowing your head as both a greeting and sign of respect. Lang, a dark-haired man who is known for shooting first and asking questions later, offers you a jaunty salute before lacing his hands behind his head as he balances his chair on its rear legs, the image of relaxation. Morgan Elsbeth, the only female of the trio, elects to ignore you in favor of boredly drumming her fingers on the glass tabletop, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else in the galaxy than here. Hess returns the nod with a leering grin, further convincing you he was half-womp rat in his mortal life.

You reach for the chair closest to you, planning to pull it out to sit, when Hess’ low, gravelly voice has you freezing mid-motion. “Cupid 1-1-7, you are to remain standing for the duration of this meeting.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, clasping your hands behind your back.

Hess turns in his seat towards the holoprojector that is set up on the table. He presses several buttons and a holographic figure flickers into view, dressed in dark armor with a long black cape. You recognize the seraph immediately, never able to forget the first face you saw when you woke up as a Cupid. Moff Gideon is the supreme leader of all Cupids, imposing and sharp-witted with violent powers you’ve often heard described as barbarically ruthless. Everything about him terrifies you and you’ve done all you can to avoid being in his presence.

Only now there is no escaping him. You can’t even teleport to save yourself. When headquarters was initially built, Gideon infused his powers into its structure with the intent of protecting the building from being discovered or, worse, attacked. (Though who would want to battle a bunch of Cupids, you have no idea). However, to the detriment of all Cupids currently inside headquarters, Gideon’s enchantment also blocks any of you from using your abilities. According to him, it’s to prevent any power-sensitive beings from detecting your aura signatures and you’ve never wanted to risk being murdered to try and find a flaw with that logic.

To put it bluntly, you’re a regular human in every sense except you get to keep your immortal youthfulness. Which is literally the least helpful perk you could ask for right now.

“Cupid 1-1-7,” Gideon says, dark eyes peering at you with such focused intensity you feel sweat begin to form along your hairline. “You were granted forty-eight hours to determine your client’s soulmate. Tell us, were you successful in finding his match?”

“I—” you cut yourself off, noticing his use of a gender specific term.

He chuckles at your dumbfounded expression, a quiet huff of air that you quickly deem the scariest sound you’ve ever heard. “You may have been able to conceal Death’s identity as your client from my associates, but few incidents occur in the galaxy without my knowing about them.”

Your three superiors each display unique reactions to the reveal. Morgan’s drumming stops, attention now hooked by the present conversation and she gives you a once-over, clearly reconsidering her overall impression of you. Lang nearly falls backwards onto the floor, barely managing to correct the chair at the last second to balance himself. Hess props his chin on top of his interlocked fingers, observing you in a similar fashion as Morgan, but there is an eerie glint in his gaze you don’t like the look of.

You swallow thickly, feeling sick to your stomach. “What do you want from me, sir?”

“The full and honest truth.” There is a brief pause, increasing the tension in the room. “Were you successful in finding Death’s soulmate?”

You don’t understand why he’s asking you the same question twice when he’s admitted he’s practically omniscient. And the way he’d paused just now, makes you start to worry he’s baiting you into a trap, but you have no viable means of escaping to avoid giving him an answer.

Your voice comes out meeker sounding than you’ve ever heard it. “Yes, sir, I was successful.”

When it becomes apparent after a long beat of silence you are not going to admit any further information, Gideon levels you with a stern look. “I strongly urge you to reveal their identity to us, Cupid 1-1-7, so we may make note of them in our archives as is customary for all matched pairs.”

Well now that makes you definitely feel cornered. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess inside your head; half of you is convinced he already knows you are Din’s soulmate and is toying with you, while the other half believes he actually has no idea at all and is trying to scare you into revealing the truth.

Kriff. What do you do?

You stare over their heads at the far wall, uncomfortably aware of how the silence stretches on as they wait for a name. Your name. Maker, why do you keep ending up in these horrible scenarios? Who did you piss off in your mortal life?

“If your tongue has failed you,” Gideon says, tone deceptively light and airy. “Might I suggest that an alternative way of answering would be to show us your hands.”

He knows.

Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.

You continue your staring contest with the wall, refusing to let them see any indication your blood has turned to ice or that your lungs are on the verge of collapsing. Think, you rack your brain frantically. For Maker’s sake, think of something .

“You’re already in hot water, Cupid 1-1-7,” Lang says. His southern accent softens the words, but you still manage to detect the warning laced within them. “Don’t make it worse for yourself by being stubborn.”

As much as you loathe to admit it, Lang has a point. By continuing to resist, you’re only hurting yourself by increasing the time spent separated from Din. You don’t want to break your promise to him. Or, that little voice in the back of your mind chips in, cause Din to destroy Kuiil’s farm out of a panic-induced rage when you don’t show up tonight like you promised you would.

Inhaling a deep breath to steady your nerves, you hold out your marked hand, palm facing up to clearly display the soulmate marking. The little black heart almost seems to glow at being the center of attention.

“That is impossible,” Morgan murmurs, looking from your hand to her colleagues and back again. “No one can have two soulmates.”

“And yet here we have living proof contradicting that belief,” Gideon answers, gesturing towards you grandly with both arms. There is something in his voice—awe, you identify a second later—that has your body instinctively stiffening.

“That belief is the natural order of the universe.” Morgan’s voice is snappish, but outwardly she is her calm and collected self, not a single strand of hair out of place. “She is a deviation of the norm. A glitch.”

“If other Cupids find out about her,” Hess begins, pointing a finger at you like the others have no idea who he’s talking about. Like you’re not able to hear every word. “They’ll start thinking maybe there’s a second soulmate out there somewhere for them too, someone to replace the one who rejected them in their mortal life. They’ll start questioning the natural order, the foundation of our galactic society, and all those questions will only lead to one thing: unrestrained chaos.”

“In order to prevent that unfavorable outcome, I would like to encourage a moment of observation.” Gideon looks to someone out of range of the holoprojector, nodding his head once in confirmation. “Take one last long look for Cupid 1-1-7 is a unique anomaly you may never have the chance of seeing again.”

You blink, heart going still as the implication registers. “What?”

Before anyone can answer or scold you, a purple-skinned twi'lek Cupid you don’t recognize casually enters the conference room, like she isn’t guilty of intruding on a private meeting. Almost as if...someone had summoned her. Your gaze darts briefly to Gideon, suspicions confirmed when you see his smirking face, before looking back at the twi’lek drawing closer.

“It’s time for your reassessment test. I’m here to take you there,” she tells you, baring her fanged teeth in what you think is supposed to be a smile, but it lacks any warmth or friendliness. You can only stare back at her, every cell in your body screaming this isn’t right. You shouldn’t need an escort to the testing room.

“I can go by myself,” you protest, holding your ground.

She lunges forward with lightning-quick reflexes, seizing your elbow and leaning disturbingly close into your personal space. “Pity,” she says, feigning a pout. “I thought we could become friends.”

Something sharp pricks your arm. You first notice the mischievous gleam in her dark eyes, and then when you look down, you discover a needle being pulled out of you arm. The room starts to spin, fuzzy black spots appearing in the corners of your vision, and you sag against the wall, balance failing you.

Closing your eyes, you try to focus on your soulmate bond, calling out to Din as the numbing sensation spreads to your feet and you collapse onto the floor without an ounce of grace.

Then, distant and distorted, as if it is coming from somewhere underwater hundreds of miles away, you hear a responding cry, “Angel!”

Din. Oh, thank the Maker, you think hysterically. The delicate line between reality and imagination shifts and blurs, as if it also is succumbing to the drug’s influence. You feel his hands clutch at your face, then move to your shoulders, shaking you in an effort to force your eyes open. You want to see his beautiful face, even if it is merely an illusion, but your eyelids feel as if they suddenly weigh a hundred pounds each.

“Tell me where you are,” he demands, tightly gripping your arms to the point of pain. “I’ll come save you, just tell me where I can find you.”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue, only your mind starts to drift again, pulling you away from him towards unconsciousness. Your bond's strength wavers, unable to keep the connection stable across the lengthy distance separating you and him, and it begins to curl in on itself.

Din must notice this, too, screaming so loudly it verges on roaring, “Stay with me, angel! Please, just stay with—”

The last thing you think of before everything goes black is how much you hate breaking your pinky promise to him.

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @eleinemk​, @captain-jebi​, @aerynwrites​, @promiscuoussatan​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @coaaster​, @lin-djarin​, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

[thebountyfucker]

The Game

18+ ONLY - NSFW

Afab!Reader x Embo, Afab!Reader x Bossk, Afab!Reader x Cad (Not gendered) Tags: Primal play (hunting), voyeurism/exhibitionism, unprotected sex, alien biology, cum eating, PiV sex, anal sex

Summary: Hunting makes a lizard's brain go brrrrrr. (Or, in other words, three hunters hunt you down. Their prize? You)

Here's the link to my masterpost. Want to be tagged in fics like this? Here's my taglist application!

“Ya get ten minutes. Make dem count.” Cad drawled as he glanced down at the chronometer on his wrist gauntlet. You glanced down at your own chronometer, your heart already racing; standing before you were three bounty hunters, each ready to prove their hunting skills in a test of chase. The prize? You. Whoever found you got first dibs on your cunt. Or whatever it was they desired to fuck. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you could hardly keep still.

Bossk and Embo had both been rather quiet this entire time - for Embo, this was par for the course. Bossk though… you wondered what was going on in that thick head of his. His nostrils kept flaring, as if trying to take in as much of your scent as possible, which… was likely. He was quite reliant on scent for these sorts of hunting games, which made it near impossible to hide. But that was the fun, you supposed.

The boys got to wander through the abandoned settlement briefly beforehand, getting acquainted with the terrain. Sometimes, they’d go in blind… but you all quickly realized that Cad was at a disadvantage. He was a great tracker, but his tech only went so far. You decided to give him a fighting chance by giving him time to set up traps or… whatever it was he used his tech for. Embo and Bossk got to wander around too, just to keep it fair. But you were going in blind.

Cad gave you the signal and you darted off; you were tempted to glance at them over your shoulder, but you knew that would only slow you down. Ten minutes, in theory, felt like long enough to get away. But you knew otherwise. You had to make each movement count.

You ducked through alleys and down streets, dropping items of clothes to try to throw off Bossk. You did your best to avoid Cad’s motion sensors. You tried to take the least logical path. All the while, your heart was pounding and your cunt was throbbing.

You ran through buildings, bumping up against the walls to transfer more of your scent, and then ran out again. You weaved around an empty marketplace, running circles around wooden stalls and touching everything. To top everything off, you took off your shoes, and chucked them in opposite directions.

Soon enough, your chronometer beeped, letting you know that the boys were officially on the hunt… and you needed to hide out. You decided on a warehouse toward the eastern edge of the settlement; it had multiple levels to it, so you figured you could easily hide there. Just as you reached the doorway, Bossk let out his hunting cry, and spikes of pleasure shot to your cunt. Soon… soon…

You crept through the reception area, trying to touch as little as possible. You knew Cad could track your heat signature, and you knew that Bossk would be able to follow your scent still… but you didn’t want to make it easy for them. You decided it would be best to take your chances upstairs, so you wandered until you found the stairwell, and began your ascension.

Climbing the numerous flights of stairs took a significant amount of time, but you had enough of a head start that it didn’t worry you. Even when Bossk’s calls grew closer. You went up five floors, before traversing down the long, empty hallways. The wind whistled through the bones of this building, drawing shivers up your spine. You weren’t sure why, but you swore you were being watched.

You ducked into a room off of the hall, and spotted a locker that looked like you could hide in it. You only made it about halfway across the room before a hand grasped your wrist and pulled you flush against a warm, hard body. You squirmed against the restrictive hand, startling as another hand was clapped over your mouth.

“Do not scream.” It was Embo. How…? You glanced up over your shoulder, meeting his golden gaze. He winked, and a shiver went down your spine. “I want to see how long it takes for them to find you.”

He eased you back into a corner, his hand moving from your mouth to your hip. He gave it a squeeze, his thumb brushing along the curve of your soft flesh. A foreign heat burned in his chest, and you could tell by the vibrant green tinge to his skin that this hunt had thrilled him. A low purr rumbled from deep in his chest.

“How did you…?”

“Your patterns are predictable. The others are concerned about where you have been… I was concerned about where you would go.” He explained, his voice edged with desire; you whimpered softly. “You go for large structures with many places to hide. You should just keep running. Maybe then Cad would have a chance.”

You fought a chuckle. “Unlike you, I don’t have unlimited stamina.”

“It is a shame.” He mused, the hand on your wrist dropping to grab your other hip. He pulled you flush against him, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “It would be much more fun if you did.”

Your breath came out as a shaky rattle, and his hands slid down farther. His large hand cupped your still-clothed cunt, rubbing a thumb over where he supposed your clit was. Your panties dampened as you sunk your teeth into your lip.

“Bossk surely can smell you now, all wet and yearning. He is going to be pissed.”

“Cad’s going to be madder.” You mentioned. Any moment now, the two pissed off hunters would barge in, and the thought of their anger sent spikes of pleasure to your cunt. Embo did not always win, but he won enough… enough to make the other two quite jealous.

He pressed his clothed cock against your back, and you could hardly stop yourself from begging him to fuck you. Not yet, he’d tell you. I want to see their faces when they notice I have won. Embo was not usually one to be conceited, but this game drove them all to their more primal instincts. You reached back to ran a hand along his length, just watching the door.

A loud growl alerted you to Bossk’s presence. He sauntered through the doorway, his teeth bared and his eyes narrowed. He jutted a claw toward Embo, who still had a firm hold on you, as if worried that Bossk would try to wrestle you away from him.

“You cheater!” Bossk roared. Surely this would draw Cad to you, if he wasn’t on the trail already.

“I do not cheat.” Embo replied pointedly.

“You have to! There is no way you found them that quickly!”

As if on cue, Cad stalked through the door; his lips pulled back to reveal his fangs. He leaned against the wall, watching as the other two bickered about ‘what counted as tracking’ and how Embo was ‘a dirty cheat’. You managed to break from Embo’s hold, and you wandered over to Cad.

“Good try?” You offered him, unsure of the mood he’d be in at this point. Judging by his growl, he wasn’t feeling too hot. “Don’t worry… gotta save the best for last, right?”

He quirked a browridge, but seemed to lighten up a bit. Maybe next time, you’d try to give Cad a better chance. You cupped his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Do not get any ideas, Cad.” Embo frowned, and Cad rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t dare.” He released his hold on you, and you moved to the center of the room. You pulled off your undershirt, and tossed it aside, bearing your torso to the boys. Bossk’s pupils dilated as he took in the intoxicating scent of your arousal. Embo’s eyes brightened. Cad just smirked and pulled out a cig.

“Good game, boys. I’ll try to make it last longer next time.” You winked, hooking your fingers around the waistband of your panties. You wondered if their more primal natures would become more intense if they were able to chase longer; honestly, a part of you wanted this. Next time… next time…

You shucked your panties off and tossed them to Bossk, who grappled for them and immediately brought them up to his snout. He inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the scent of your arousal. Embo beckoned to you with a finger, and you flitted toward him, falling to your knees before him. He leaned down to stroke your cheek as you reached for the ties of his skirts. They were, frustratingly, complicated to undo, so despite your best efforts, Embo did most of his own undressing. He neatly folded his clothes and set them atop his armor and hat, before bringing you up to stand.

“Do you need preparation? Or can you take me?” He asked, drawing the pads of his fingers down around your nipples. You bemoaned the fact that you were in an environment where he couldn’t remove his mask, as you knew that he would love to eat you out. But that could wait for another time. Right now, you needed to focus… oh fuck, your pussy was drooling now. Your legs shook as he gingerly pinched your nipples.

“P-please… I need your cock.” You whimpered, and he lifted you up; you wrapped your legs around his waist as he lined his cock up with your cunt. Slowly, he pushed in.

“Did you wish to see them?” Embo asked, his voice surprisingly even as he pushed further into you. You nodded as Embo turned to give you a better look at the other two. Though you’d never admit it, you were aroused at the thought of the other two watching as you were fucked. Bossk’s cocks had slipped out of his slit and were rapidly hardening. You couldn’t see Cad’s hard on, but you knew he would be quick to follow. A part of you wondered if it was just you that turned them on, or if they were also enjoying the view of their rival…

Soon, Embo had bottomed out, completely sheathing himself inside you. You swore his cock had pressed up under your ribs, though you knew this was not possible. You were so completely impaled by him. Your head lolled back as he slowly eased out, and then back in, quickly finding a suitable rhythm that wouldn’t completely wreck your insides.

You glanced over at the boys, watching as they shifted to try to accommodate their hard-ons. Bossk was rubbing a clawed hand over his cocks, still completely intoxicated by your scent. Cad smoked his cig to the butt, before crushing it beneath his boots.

Embo took his time fucking into you. His stamina would allow for him to fuck you all day, but while he was delighted to have you first, he was not greedy. He would allow for Bossk and Cad to have their turns with you.

Every thrust made his nodes drag across your sensitive spots, massaging them in a way that made your head spin and warmth pool in your belly. And when he pressed a thumb to your clit and rubbed, it was game over for you. You orgasmed, your body going limp and your vision going black as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

He would not have given up so easily in a private session, but given that he was not the only one fucking you today, he decided to cum early. He growled softly as he rested his head against yours, shooting his hot cum deep into you. It kept coming and coming… when he finished, he pulled you off his cock and his cum seeped down your thighs.

You wobbled, hardly able to catch your breath before Bossk approached. He had already pulled his cocks from his jumpsuit, and they were twitching for you. First, though… Bossk laid you down on the ground and spread your legs open wide. His tongue flicked out, lapping at the cum which dirtied your thighs; you weren’t sure if he actually enjoyed the taste of another man’s cum, or if he was just trying to clean you. Either way, his tongue slipped into your cunt, slurping up the left over cum like a starving man at a feast. He dragged his tongue in and out, growling and groaning, drawing gasps from deep within you. Heat boiled in your belly, and you felt as though you could cum then and there… but you’d wait as long as you could. You needed Bossk’s cocks…

He lifted your hips, his tongue swirling his lube-like saliva and cum mixture around your asshole. When he felt that you were sufficiently slicked, he situated himself between your legs, and lined up his cocks with your holes. When he pressed in, you let out a howl of pleasure.

He was slow, knowing your ass would need more time to adjust than your cunt would. Your hands went to your breasts as you looked over at Embo and Cad. Embo had found a desk to sit on, and was idly stroking his hardening cock. Cad was finally starting to show his arousal, his cheeks flushed green and a dopey look in his eyes.

“Pretty little prey.” Bossk purred as he stroked a claw along your cheek. “Pretty and tight.”

He eased in further, his cocks rubbing against the thin wall of flesh separating your cunt from your ass. You whined, arching your back and angling your hips toward him. Your legs were already shaking, your toes curling. And when he finally sheathed himself inside you, stars danced in your vision.

“Don’t cum yet, little prey… we’ve only just started.” Bossk eased out, and then back in. Bossk was long - not nearly as long as Embo, though - and his cocks were thick. Where Embo impaled you, Bossk completely stuffed you. Like Embo, though, his cocks pressed through your belly, and you watched as your belly rippled with every thrust.

His tongue snaked out to lick at your nipples, getting them hard; you were desperate for a mouth around them, though you knew Bossk would not be able to fulfill that desire. Maybe Cad would…

Bossk picked up his pace until you orgasmed, shooting fluids all over him; Bossk was quick to follow, his frills expanding to keep you locked onto his cocks. His cum was cool and thick, and filled you up; slowly, his frills deflated, and he pulled out. He was satisfied, but at the same time, like Embo, you knew he wanted more. He backed away, allowing Cad to approach now.

You sat up, watching as Cad pulled his cock out; it was hard and leaking what you assume was Duros precum. You were always shocked by how aroused the boys were; you had originally thought that they’d be turned off by the presence of each other… and yet…

“On yer hands an’ knees, doll.” Cad drawled, and you were quick to oblige. Your swollen, pliant cunt was ready for him, and he reveled in it. He drew a finger between the lips, rubbing Bossk’s cum around as a sort of lubricant, before pressing into you. You twitched around him, every touch sending sharp spikes of pleasure to your cunt; your body was flushed and hot. Your eyes were half-lidded. You were drooling onto the ground. You were so goddamn cock-dumb that it was making Embo and Bossk chuckle.

Cad’s grip on your hips was bruising, and every once in a while, he drew a hand back to smack your ass. You lurched forward with every hit, gasping and whimpering. He was determined to make his mark on you, much more concerned with claiming you than his companions were.

He nipped at your neck and shoulders, thrusting harder and harder into you; his ridges - oh, the ridges!- massaged your sensitive spots, which were already overstimulated from the two previous cocks in you. You could hardly keep yourself up, which Cad hadn’t failed to notice. Instead of holding you up, though, Cad shoved you to the ground, his hand holding your head down on the ground.

“Cad~!” You moaned, your voice pitching up as ecstasy gripped you. The heat in your belly threatened to spill, but you knew Cad didn’t care. He’d fuck you through three orgasms if he wanted.

“Dat’s it, doll. Yell my name. Tell dese idiots who ya belong t’!” He growled, not letting up on his pace. You turned your head to look at Bossk and Embo, noting their continued arousal; something told you that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow…

“CAD!” You cried, tension building. You were so goddamn close! If only…

Cad pressed his thumb to your clit and the tension snapped. Fluids rushed out around his cock as your body went limp; your head was in the clouds, high on ecstasy and sex. Every nerve was set ablaze.

You weren’t sure how long your orgasm lasted, only that Cad had continued to fuck into your tightened cunt. He was grunting, and his pace was beginning to falter, but he wouldn’t give up that easily. He tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you up closer to him. He dragged his teeth along your back.

“Yer too good t’ us, doll. Too good.” Cad muttered as he leaned forward, latching over your shoulder. You braced yourself, knowing what came next.

Cad’s pace grew erratic, and before long, he came, biting down into your shoulder as he shot his cum inside you. You cried out, orgasming again - this orgasm caught you off-guard, but you were pleased none the less.

Cad licked away the blood, before easing out of your sore cunt. He sat nearby, his soft cock just bobbing between his legs. The room was silent for a moment, before Embo approached once more.

“Are you able to take more?”

You knew you had a long night ahead of you.

-

Tags: @doctor-ren, @that-clone-wars-girl, @some-serendipity-snail, @rewin-d

[ratmonky]

After The Storm

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: choking, breeding, biting, mild knife-play, smoking, munkey’s self indulgent ass

AO3 Link

@kingtamakimurder​ thank you for always inspiring me and making me smile ((; pls accept this as your early birthday gift

The downpour came after the peal of thunder almost instantly, it was heavy and rapid.

People around cursed and started running around to take shelter from the heavy rain. 

One man stood there calmly, unresponsive to the rain droplets falling soaking his clothes. He clicked his tongue before opening the umbrella he had been holding onto.

The weather report was right as always, the channel he had watched this morning had reported that there would be heavy rain around the evening time.

Lines of rainwater from the top of his umbrella dripped down in front of his gaze as he brought a cigarette up to his lips. Using his cheap spark wheel lighter, he lit his cigarette with a deep inhale. His eyes were trained on the exit of an apartment building as he was putting away his lighter, waiting for someone who fit the description.

The cigarette smoke he blew left a stale taste in his mouth. He had been standing here for a while, hadn’t eaten or anything. It was boring but he knew it wouldn’t be long until something interesting happened.

The calm before the storm.

Then, finally, after a long time of waiting, the target was in his view. A young woman entered the building, clothes soaked with rain, carrying a bag of groceries.

He watched the code the woman pressed into the lock and crushed his cigarette under his shoe.

Time to move.

~~~

You stared at your phone screen to check the time and walked inside your apartment building. There were a lot of unread text messages from people you knew but you tried your best to ignore them.

When you pushed the elevator button, you were fantasizing about how you were going to strip your clothes off as soon as you got inside your apartment and fill up the bathtub with warm water. There was an open bottle of white wine from a couple of days ago, you could eat the grapes you had just bought too. 

Today would be your pamper day, you decided.

After a long week of working, it was only natural that you deserved to do a little bit of self-care.

If you remembered it right there was an unopened pack of your favorite chocolate bar in the kitchen cabinet too! Ugh, today was going to be perfect! 

You got on the elevator while trying to decide which show you would watch after your much-needed bath, omitting the man who had entered the apartment building with your code.

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime. You looked down to your feet to notice how water had pooled under you. You had probably left a puddle of water on the main floor as well while waiting for the elevator. The janitor was going to be really mad, you should have listened to the weather reporters who had warned the citizens about the heavy rain. 

Internally apologizing to the janitor, you left the elevator on your floor, heading straight to your apartment. Water droplets falling from your clothes left a trail after you. A loud groan left your lips, the janitor would definitely know you were the culprit.

You unlocked your door and entered your apartment, rubbing at your eyes. You were feeling a little drained. Nights had been more sleepless than usual but you knew as soon as you got in the tub full of hot water and bath salts, the heavy feeling would lift, and you would be renewed. 

Kicking off your shoes, you started getting rid of your clothes by the doorway to avoid soaking the floorboards with water. Your clothes were sticking to your skin and peeling them off took you a minute longer than usual but once you were only in your underwear, you carried the grocery bag to the kitchen. 

Quickly making your way to the bathroom, you turned on the faucet to let the bathtub fill. You grabbed your wet clothes and ran into the bathroom with them, squeezing the excess water before hanging them on the clothing rack for them to dry. 

The bathtub had only filled halfway when you went inside your room to put on your favorite robe. It felt a little weird walking around in your undergarments even if you were alone. 

Back in the bathroom, you checked the temperature of the water with the glass of white wine you filled earlier. You opened one of the big bath bombs you had, using it instead of bath salts felt like a better idea. You could stand and watch the satisfying colors emerge from the bath bomb. It was always mesmerizing to see. 

Your thoughts were interfered with by a heavy knock on your door. You weren’t expecting any guests. In a hurried motion, you tightened your robe using the string around your waist before walking out to the doorway. 

Getting on your tiptoes, you looked through the peephole to see who it was. It was a man with his dipped low. He banged on the door this time, startling you enough to gasp. 

Now, unlike your old apartment, the door didn’t have a chain lock on it. You had actually bought that specific lock a couple of months ago but you had been procrastinating on installing it and today you cursed yourself for always leaving the things you actually needed to do for tomorrow.

You grabbed the door handle hesitantly and opened the door to see what the man wanted. Your free hand was clutching the fabric on your chest. The door only opened until there was enough space for you to peek out but not enough space for the man to see inside.

“Can I help you?” you asked, voice flat, kind of annoyed. How dare he disturb your pamper routine. 

“That’s why I’m here,” he replied. He was tall and muscular, which irked you. “A colleague gave me your name, and said you treated people who couldn’t go to a hospital-”

You suddenly opened the door wider and shushed him. He raised a brow and glowered down at you, with the way his eyes squinted at you, you felt like an insignificant pebble on a crosswalk.

“I-I don’t do it h-here,” you explained, a hundred names crossed your mind and you tried to remember which one of your contacts was stupid enough to give this man your name but you couldn’t think of anyone. Even if you did… nobody knew where you lived, meaning, this man had found you all by himself. “You should leave, I’ll come by that bar in Shibuya next week, as usual, I’ll see you there.”

You made a move to close the door.

“Hold up.” The man put his hand on the door, blocking you from closing it. “I can’t wait that long.” His grip on the door tightened, you could swear you saw his veins pop up. 

“I-I can’t help you right now, sir!” You tried slamming the door closed by using your entire weight to push it but the door seemed to just open wider. Yelping, you looked at the large man in horror. 

“Why is that?” he demanded, his voice sounded terrifying, there was an underlying tone of rage as if he was ready to snap. Right now, he was technically standing by the door frame, if he took one step forward, the door would be wide open and he would invade your home.

“It’s not an appropriate time,” you said honestly. 

“You’re lying,” he called you out immediately, narrowing his eyes at you. “Some stitching, once it’s done I’ll be gone,” he insisted.

“Sir, please, if you don’t leave I will scream,” you replied, simple and to the point. 

“I thought you people swore on an oath or whatever to help those in need? Like; patients will be my first consideration yada yada.”

“We pledge to service!” you corrected, “And you seem perfectly fine to me! Leave before I call the police!”

He moved away from the door and you almost fell face forward onto the tile floor. You were getting ready to cuss him out when he lifted his shirt. 

Quite unlike a nurse, your mouth gaped at the sight, quickly you looked away.

He scoffed at your reaction, “Not very professional, are ya?”

You heard your next-door neighbor open their door, knowing what the view would look like to them, in a wave of panic you grabbed the man, pulling him inside the cramped doorway. It wouldn’t have been that jarring to have a man lift his shirt up in front of your door if it wasn't for the evening hour, which permitted a lot of gossip for your neighbors.

Getting on your tiptoes, you looked through the peephole, your neighbor walked past your door with their dog without a glance in your direction. 

You heard the soft thuds of footsteps moving further away and suddenly remembered the unknown man you had inside your apartment. By the time you whipped your head around to see what he was doing, he had already disappeared into your living room.

“Sir,” you called, crossing your arms on your chest. “I need you to leave.”

He threw himself on the couch, putting his foot up on your coffee table. “You invited me inside.”

“N-no, it was just because I didn’t want any misunderstandings between me and my neighbors.” 

While you were busy explaining yourself he found the remote control and turned on the television, flicking through the channels.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” You stomped your foot, “I’ll call the police if you don’t leave my house right now!”

Unresponsive, he continued flicking through the channels until he found a rerun of a thriller movie. 

With a grumble, you went to grab your phone from the bathroom and walked back to the living room. “I’m serious!”

He was still unfazed.

“Okay, that’s it!” Your fingers fumbled on the screen, trembling as you dialed in the number. You lifted the phone up to your ear, it was on the first ringing beep when the man spoke.

“Don’t you think that they’ll ask me why I’m here?” He turned his head to look at you with a mocking look on his face. “What makes you think that I won’t tell them about your underground hospital?”

Your blood ran cold. It took you less than a second to hang up the call. 

He scoffed.

The money you got from your usual job didn’t pay well but criminals… they paid more than well. As long as you kept your mouth shut, didn’t ask too many questions, and treated them, you got paid your monthly income per patient. 

You needed the money.

“You’ll leave once I’ve treated you?”

A nod.

You let out a sigh and disappeared into the bathroom to grab your medical kit. You pulled a chair next to the dinner table and placed some tools on the table. “Sir,” you called, “Sit here.”

“Toji,” he said, turning off the television before walking to the chair. 

There was no need for you to know his name, you weren’t going to see him ever again.

Toji reached to his back, his fingers dragged the fabric up, once he managed to hook a finger under it, he pulled his shirt up and over his head. He stood shirtless in front of you, his muscles flexed as he draped his shirt over the chair. 

“Enjoying the view?”

You weren’t moving, eyes trained on Toji intently when he called you out. You breathed slowly through your mouth only, internally begging yourself to calm down. You grabbed a damp cotton pad soaked in alcohol and pressed it against a gash on his abdomen. He didn’t wince or flinch. While you were cleaning the gashes and the dried blood to get a clean canvas to work with, you noticed many different scars on his body. 

Some were faint, some were improperly healed.

His ribcage was covered with those scars, the ragged rip in his flesh was going to be only one another story to tell like any other of his scars.

“Wanna tell me how this happened? Who did it?”

“A curse.”

“A curse,” you echoed. It made you snicker which also gave him the answer to something he had been wondering.

Putting the cotton pad down, you grabbed the sterilized needle and a thread before kneeling in front of him. You pushed the needle through his skin and pulled it out on the other side of the gash. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked abruptly.

“N-no,” you stuttered, confused as to why he had asked you this question. He wasn’t trying to flirt, was he? “Why did you ask?”

“The way you’re dressed, it’s like you’re waiting for your man.” His voice had an edge to it as if he was saying each word after careful thought, knowing what your reaction would be. 

Your cheeks flushed bright pink, not helping the situation and giving him the reaction he was looking for. You would have covered more of your chest but you were busy stitching his wound. 

There was a need to change the subject but you found yourself asking him the same question. “What about you? Do you have someone?” Your voice died out quietly when you noticed what you were asking could imply that you were interested in him.

“Divorced.” Was his answer.

“Oh.” The needle sunk into his flesh one last time, you pulled it from the other side of the wound, done with your stitching. “Any kids?”

“Probably.”

The way he answered made the question you jolt but you didn’t dig it any further. Instead, you grabbed another damp cotton pad to clean his stitches before putting a bandage over them. 

“Done, don’t shower until next week,” you paused, realizing that you were going to see him next week. “I’ll have to take the stitches out once they’re healed.”

“No need,” he replied, smirking while looking down at you. He was simply enjoying the view of you on your knees. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Ah… okay.” You removed your latex gloves and tidied up the floor. “That’ll be around 12 000 Yen.”

Toji barked out in a laugh.

“W-what?”

“That much for sewing some skin together? I could’ve done it myself if I had taken some sewing classes.” He leaned forward on the chair, his biceps flexed hypnotizingly as his hand reached for your face. You didn’t move away, it was happening too fast. He squeezed your cheeks together until your lips puckered, his eyes sparkled with dark amusement. “Why not lower your price, whaddaya say, kitten?”

Something in your body switched.

Your head shook, you tried speaking but the words came out weird. “It’s ‘cause you invaded my home and forced me into this.”

Toji was still able to understand what you were saying. Your response annoyed him, for some reason he couldn’t articulate. He sighed heavily after cocking his head to the side. “How about I pay you back with something else?”

His eyes wandered down on your chest and then lower and lower and lower-

You closed your eyes shut, what was happening to you? This… He made you feel weird, no matter how attractive Toji was, he was still a stranger! What are you doing? Say no.

“N-no, I want the money.”

“Hmm, really?” He leaned in closer, you could feel his hot breath on your face. “Is that really what you want?”

“I need the money.” I need you to fuck me.

You heard the chair creak as he leaned even closer, then you felt his lips brush against your earlobe.

“(name).” 

Ahh, the way he whispered your name into your ear made you tremble. You couldn’t help shuddering at the contact. You were falling to pieces. You were losing yourself. 

“Toji,” you echoed, opening your eyes. His hazy gaze was already on you. 

He released your cheeks and leaned back on the chair, placing a hand on his crotch, gripping his bulge, smirking.

Your mouth was gaped open, watching his hand as he palmed himself through his jeans. 

“Wanna take a closer look?”

You mindlessly nodded. 

Toji patted a free hand on his knee, urging you to sit on it. You weren’t thinking when you climbed up on his knee, your mind was blank, only the need to be filled by something firm and large filled your senses.

Eyes trained on Toji’s hard cock, trapped in the rough fabric, you settled on his knee. He grabbed your hand and slowly placed it on his bulge, instructing you to squeeze it to feel how large it actually was. His jeans didn’t do much justice, the size you felt by cupping his bulge wasn’t at all visible through them.

“It’s big.” Your eyes stared unblinkingly down at his clothed cock. Would it fit inside me?

Toji hummed, his size wasn’t any news to him. He placed his hands on your waist, feeling you up while you were busy rubbing your small hands on his growing erection. God, it keeps getting bigger.

“Are ya gonna keep playing with it over the pants?” he asked, moving his knee side to side for whatever reason. You didn’t pay much attention. “Are ya listening?”

A sound escaped you when his knee pressed against your pussy. Was that what he was trying to do just now?

One look at Toji’s face gave you the answer.

Toji bounced his leg gently, your legs trembled and you held onto him.

“You’re more sensitive than I thought,” he said, placing his hands on your hips, gripping harshly to move them along his knee.

Your eyes were starting to roll and flutter as he pressed you down on his knee, the friction was mind-numbingly ecstatic, and his wandering hands were just adding to the pleasure. It was all too much, the heat from Toji, large hands teasing your body over your robe with slowly paced strokes, and his overwhelming musky scent. 

All of your senses were rearing up, telling you to get on all fours and let this man you met barely an hour ago fuck you silly. The attraction was undeniable and clearly mutual yet unpredictable. 

“Ahh, I wanna mess you up so badly,” he said suddenly, his hands went under your robe, hiking the fabric up to see more of the supple flesh of your thighs.

You mewled in response. 

He leaned to put his head on your shoulder, “If I were to,” -he grabbed a chunk of your ass, “-tell you that I wanna see you on top of me, what would ya do?”

Your breath hitched. 

“I-I don’t know,” you managed, her voice quivering. I wanna feel your weight on top of me.

He noticed your discomfort. “I think you'd want me to be on top, am I right?” 

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“You’re being too vulgar.” You tried sounding serious.

His hand left your hip, he reached to your face instead. You gasped softly when he tucked your hair behind your ear. “I can feel your pussy throbbing on my knee.”

Stunned, your eyes widened and you stumbled on your words. “N-no-” you protested, voice trembling. 

The intense look he gave you with a raised eyebrow made you blush furiously.

“I m-mean-” You meekly looked up at him. “When you say it like that, you make me look like a… like a…-”

“A slut?” he filled in. He let out a sigh, placing a hand behind your head and pulling you towards his face. “Isn’t it a little too late to reintroduce yourself?”

“I’m just not like this.” You pouted at him. “I’ve never been like this before.” 

A grin broke out on his face and he laughed, rubbing the back of your head. “I find that hard to believe, you were trying to seduce me from the moment you opened the door.”

You gasped suddenly, “I would never-”

“You’ve soaked my pants with your cunt, young lady.” Toji teased with a smile. “I can’t do or say anything more vulgar than that.”

A momentary silence hung between the two of you, your face had turned beet red. “With that settled... Do you know the name of the thing you were touching?”

Your body trembled at his blunt approach, oblivious to how close he had gotten.

“It’s a cock,” he breathed. “Say it.”

He leaned in closer and as he got closer you could see his features more clearly. Your eyes were on the scar on his lip, you wondered what it would feel like if you were to trace it with your tongue. “C-c-clock-” you gave up.

He put an arm around your waist, pulling you a lot closer. “Unless you say what you want from me, I won’t be able to pay you back,” he murmured, his eyes hazy.

You gave him a shaky smirk to cover your own embarrassment. “I--I want you to touch me.” I want you to fill all my holes.

“Be more specific.”

You wanted his large hands to cup your breasts and slide down, down down until they found your sacred place. You wanted him to rest the weight of his cock on your face, you wanted his lips on your slick heat, and you... You-

The longer you looked at him, the more you wanted him to touch you.

Toji looked at you as if he knew what you were thinking and bit his lip. “Come on, say it.”

“I want,” you started, body trembling with anticipation. “I want you to ruin me with your cock.”

He pressed a hand on the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him. Instantly, his lips crashed onto yours, he snaked his tongue inside your mouth savoring your sweet taste.

You lifted your leg and crossed it over his leg to sit on his lap. He pressed you down onto his crotch, you could feel the enormous erection underneath the rough fabric, pushing against your own clothed entrance. He could slip his cock right inside your pussy if you were both naked.

Desperate and needier than ever, you started grinding on his erection, humping him like a bitch in heat.

He growled into the kiss, his strong hands bouncing you harder on his erection. He was getting impatient, just like you. He needed to feel your walls clamp on his cock right at this moment or he would literally snap--

His large hands grabbed you firmly by your ass and he stood up from the chair. You yelped in panic before wrapping your arms around his neck to avoid falling. (As if Toji would drop you.) 

He carried you to your bedroom, dropping you hard against the mattress. Within barely a second, he was on top of you, hastily pulling his pants down. You followed his example and hooked a finger under your panties but Toji growled at you to leave them be.

“I’ll take them off,” he demanded in a low keen tone, his hand tightly gripping onto something.

Dumbfounded, all you could do was to nod and wait for him. 

Toji was completely naked when he flicked his pocket knife open. A wave of panic washed over you as he pressed the dull part of the knife on your chest. He was smirking encouragingly to put you at ease. He looked far too confident in what he was planning to do.

You yelped when he cut your bra off by the middle. Your tits gave a single bounce while Toji’s eyes feasted on the sight of them.

His hand cupped your breast and as he kneaded the soft flesh, he sliced a part of your panties. You lifted your torso up from the bed to shimmy out of your bra and robe. You threw them out of the way. Having your tit in his reach again, Toji pinched your perky nipple, put the knife down, and then brought both of his hands on your panties to rip the rest of the fabric off.

He brought the fabric up to his nose and took a deep inhale, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Decidedly, Toji grabbed you by the hips and pulled you completely under him, his rock-hard cock threateningly loomed over your leaking pussy.

Like he said, you liked him on top. It was a mesmerizing sight to see, his hair stuck to his forehead because of sweat, his eyes hazy with lust, lips agape to the sight of you under him. You could tell he was admiring the sight just as you were. You blushed faintly. 

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, resting his fingers on your lips. 

You obliged right away.

He pushed his fingers inside your mouth, covering the digits with your saliva before taking them out to grab his cock. His eyes didn’t leave yours even for a second, he gave a couple of pumps to his shaft and pressed the tip on your clit. 

With a mewl, you bit your lip. 

Toji dragged his cock along your folds as you started moving your hips impatiently. He was clearly teasing you but he cut it short, inserting the tip of his large cock in your pussy.

“It hurts, take it out!” you tried to move away from his cock but he held you in place.

“It’s just the tip.”

Although it was only the tip, you felt it stretch your walls and fill you up to the brim. The feeling didn’t go away either. Each time you thought he had inserted the entire length of his cock, he kept pushing his hips forward.

When his hips finally met yours, there were tears in your eyes, your chest heaved as your lips trembled. 

“You’re so tight.” It’s you who’s got the enormous dick.

Toji pulled his hips back and slammed into your pussy with enough force to make your bed frame bang on the wall. You basically yelled out a moan and he started fucking you at an animalistic pace. His thrusts were brutal, you kept sliding up on your bed and he followed you to plant his cock to the deepest part of your cunt. Your fingers grasped onto the sheets under you, trying to stay where you were but it felt useless. His weight was more than enough to fuck you frantically at the same time he continued to punch a hole into your wall with your bed frame.

He slapped a hand on your neck to hold you in place, he stretched his fingers before wrapping them around you, his single hand was big enough to wrap around your neck. Your hands immediately went to grab on his wrist, you weren’t sure if you were trying to hold onto him for support or because he was practically crushing your windpipe but you couldn’t think properly.

Using his other hand, he forced your legs on his shoulders so he could shove his cock even deeper inside of your pussy. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix and your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Your walls clamped on his cock as you started to panic over not being able to breathe. You kept getting tighter and tighter. Trying to greedily milk Toji’s cock of his seed.

The thought of fucking you until your abused hole overflowed almost made him cum. Toji spat in your open mouth in the heat of the moment, how dare you try to cut the fun short with your clenching gummy walls! He placed his second hand on your neck as well. “Swallow it,” he snarled, his pace slowed.

You couldn’t. 

He was putting too much pressure on your neck, you felt like you forgot how to use your tongue to swallow the simple liquid. 

In a wave of panic, both of your hands went to your neck. You dug your nails on his hands, scratching the skin for him to let you breathe. Your vision was getting blurry and it wouldn’t be long until you passed out.

Unamused, Toji lifted the pressure off of your neck to instead pick up his slackened pace with his face buried in your neck.

You hadn’t even got to take a deep breath when you choked on both your and his spit. He was rougher than you thought he would be, like an untamed animal.

“I forgot how fragile women are.” Audibly talking to himself, Toji snapped his hips forward, making your toes curl. His teeth sank hard into your neck, enough to make it bleed. He sucked and licked on your neck, steadily nibbling on it while you moaned. The pain was pleasurable, you were going insane. This was it, you were about to see the stars. Weird, he hadn’t even touched you there yet you were already a mess. You wondered what you looked like. Had your makeup melted from your tears and spit? 

“I’m close,” he informed, his voice huskier than before. Your legs started to shake, you reached your arms to him wanting to hold onto him. He leaned closer, letting you put your hands wherever they could reach as one of his hands reached between your legs to rub on your clit. Your tight walls clenched on his cock at once.

His vigorous pace and speed slackened, unable to resist your gummy walls any longer. Toji slammed his hips into yours, his balls slapped against your ass with a loud clap and his thick cock twitched. He was all the way inside you, from tip to the base. Your high came first, his finger flicked on your clit as your walls squeezed around him, you wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping that the euphoria would last a lifetime. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head while your orgasm shook you to your core. You hadn’t come this hard before with anyone else. Everything felt unreal.

Toji spilled his thick and creamy seed deep inside your fertile womb with a groan. He continued moving his hips to fuck his seed into your pussy. You could feel his hot seed run down from your pussy to your ass, leaving a sticky feeling.

Once satisfied, he pulled out and threw himself on the bed next to you. His bandages were bleeding through, you noticed at the same time you were trying to catch your breath.

It was silent for a while. 

The only noises in your room were the two of your breathing sounds. He managed to get his breathing in control quicker than you.

Without speaking, Toji sat up and grabbed his jeans from the edge of the bed. You watched him take a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jeans. He then laid next to you, putting a cigarette between his lips. He offered you one as well and you accepted out of courtesy.

You were far too tired to tell him to not smoke inside so you had joined him.

He lit your cigarette first, you inhaled the smoke as deep as you could before letting it go. Your muscles were spasming everywhere, your legs hadn’t stopped shaking but the nicotine helped bring your senses back. Your nerves eased with each inhale.

“Did the payment go through?” he joked, chuckling softly. His hair was a mess, he noticed your stare and ran his fingers through his hair to comb it.

“Definitely,” you snickered. 

Toji pulled you closer to himself until you settled to his side, with your head on his chest and your arm over his torso. You two kept on smoking in the bed like that.

“When I come back to have my stitches removed, will you take the same payment method?” His tone was flirty, full of promises. “Huh, kitten?”

“I thought you were going to remove them yourself?” A genuine laugh escaped from your lips. 

“What can I say, I liked your treatment style.” It was just an excuse to see you again. “So, whaddaya say?”

“Absolutely no! Not after all that choking stuff!”

Nevertheless, when Toji came back to your place the day after, a lot sooner than he should have, you didn’t say anything about the toothbrush he brought with him.

[simpingfortheages]

//JUST 4 WEEKS//

Hiii umm sorry for taking long. I have exams😭 she again is long as fuucckkkk. I hope you enjoy. (still leave requests please)

Prompts requests: 8, 24, 25.

Ms Venable × Fem! Reader.

SMUT PACKED! (Fluff,begging,edging, oversimtimlation, jealousy, dom! Venable, sub! Fem Reader)

Reader is a kind spirit always helping and finding new ways to make friends. A light that attracted every one,even Ms Venable. However she doesn't take it lightly when someone else is trying to take what's hers.

~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~

The dynamic you and Ms Venable had was a peculiar one. In her lovely abode she was an expressive one,the kisses and hugs she would bestow on every exposure of your skin were sacred. The secrets that she would share with you in bed after the passion lovemaking was something you especially loved. She was always vunerable and soft in your presence alone. However, that Ms Venable never found her way into work,even in the workplace when it is both you and her alone.

No way did she show or return any affection to you. It was deemed " unfit and inappropriate" in her words. She was a complete 360, the soft twinkle in her eyes were always replaced with stone hard glares and there was a slight frown took the place of the delicate smile that adorned her plump lips. But you being the caring and loving person you are, you respected her rules and decisions. 1. No kissing 2. No sexual teasing of any kind 3. No joking or laughing... etc etc... basically you both acted like strangers. She didn't care what you did at work with the other employee,she made that quite clear. As long as it doesn't involve her or her reputation. She treated you just like she did any other employee at kineros robotics and that included being scolded and embarrassed infront your other co workers. You however benefited from that, because she would always end up making up for it at home. So yes it was a peculiar dynamic but it was a dynamic you shared with her.

Today was the same old, you kissed your Mina goodbye at home before you went to work in your separate vehicles. Of course she wouldn't mind you riding along side with her. It was just that others would become suspicious and Ms Venable had a stern, don't fuck with her reputation to uphold. You carried out your daily work routine, you clocked in and made your way to the kitchen to make yourself your second cup of coffee. After doing so you took your seat on the chair located near the window which gave you a clear view of the carpark, you liked to see when your Mina came to work in her Purple Honda. Yes she customized it, the links and connections this woman has is mind blowing. "HEYYY Y/N" you jumped at the sudden outburst, it was Jeff and Muff. The twiddle dee and twiddle dumbass who ran the whole Robot operation . Mentally you rolled your eyes at their way of greeting . You then swiftly angled your body to face them. "Yes boys? What do you need" this earned a sly smile to creep up upon both of their faces simultaneously. You couldn't help but scowl at their expressions " what do you need?" You repeated with annoyance and a hint of nervousness. " there is a new girl. She is a sweet little thing"Jeff started off ,all the while grabbing your mug of coffee to sip from it. You made no attempt to stop him because you were too caught up in trying to understanding what his point was. "Okay??? And you are telling me this because???" You yanked the cup of coffee back from Jeff and moved to pour your contaminated drink down the sink . So much for your second cup. "I want you to show her around,you know help her in the emails and files all the dumb shit you do." "Just this time you both will be doing the dumb shit" Mutt finished what Jeff was saying. Damn so basically a trainee. You already knew that you had no choice,these knuckle heads after all were your bosses. " sure yea why not" you mumbled as you washed up your cup and placed back on the rack. Jeff clapped his hands in delight at your response. " Great! so she is already in your office- well it is both of your office now. We kind of needed to split your office but hey I mean you have a roommate now " you closed you eyes and tried to control your temper. They were really starting to grate on your nerves at this point. You didn't even bother to say your departure,you just left the staff kitchen and made you way to your office.

The newbie Chloe wasn't all that bad. She was this preppy,talkative and very affectionate in her interactions. She was this medium height,brown haired girl who always has on perfume that smelt like strawberries . A few weeks passed and you both became quite close, you spent a lot of time helping and getting to know one another, heck you even went "nose blind" to her over bearing starwberry perfume she wore, guess the shared office wasn't so bad. " Fuck!" Chloe exclaimed, your eyes opened wide at her remark,"whoa Chloe what's with the language" you stood up from your chair and walked over to her desk to see what the issue was. "I cannot seem to get the file to open and send to the Main system. I have been like this for 3 fucking days"she cried out, Chloe was almost on the verge of tears. You being the kind person you are, you lowered yourself to her level and wiped her teary eyes. The gesture was one of friendly,it has no romantic intention behind it. " don't cry Chloe,please it's annoying" you got a laugh mixed with a tiny sniffle with that line. "Let me see what I can do" you gently pushed her chair to the side causing her to roll a few feet away. Atleast Chloe was happily giggling, you shot a smile in her direction. You then hovered over her laptop to try and figure out the problem. After a few minutes you managed to not only open the file but you send the attachment files along with it to the main site of log in. All this time Chloe was hovering over you,trying to see what you were doing all the while chewing on her nails out of nervousness.

With a few clicks and dragging the tasks that were done you did it, "annndddd done. See Chloe no need to be such a cry baby" you stated with humor. Chloe shrieked out of happiness and enveloped you in a death grip of a hug. You didn't even have time to react since she basically squeezed all of the air out of you. "Hug me back y/n, for someone who knows how to upload a file you sure are missing a few cells" you rolled your eyes and released an exaggerated exhale. You reciprocated her warm embrace, it did feel nice and comfortable. "BANG BANG BANG" the sound was heard 3 times one after the other. That was a sound you were quite familiar with...but where did you recognise it??. The hug was broken up rather quickly. A loud clearing of someone's throath from the door made you turn your head. FUCK ...the sound was Ms Venable's cane. After seeing who it was,you increased the distance even more between you and Chloe. "Don't you know that this isn't the place for such disgusting acts? Hmm Ms Chloe a simpleton such as yourself still hasn't manage to send me the email as yet. But here you are wasting time, then again what should I expect from someone who is a waste of space themselves. Get the fuck put of my sight." her words were icey and cold. At this point Chloe was furiously trying to wipe away her tears,but they fell faster than she could dry them. She meekly excused herself from the office and slithered pass Ms Venable to probably cry even more in the bathroom. You didn't dare run after Chloe or even move. Your eyes were fixacted on the white tiles of the building floor. Ms Venable said nothing, she just walked away. If it wasn't the sound of her cane clicks becoming softer and distance you wouldn't have known that she left. You knew better though, that her walking away was a sign to for you to follow her. And follow her you did.

You kept a steady pace behind her trying to keep up with her haste movements. The tension was intense, the way she gripped the head of her cane to the slight flare of her nostrils didn't go unnoticed either. You knew that she was upset??... annoyed?? What were you Ms Venable? You pondered. Your train of thought was put to a halt when you heard the thumping of her cane stop. She was currently standing infront her closed wooden office door. No one dared to disturb her when the lock on the door was turned. She was basically worshipped at this Robotic place, she was feared and she knew that. She thrived of the idea, everytime someone were to cower in her presence you'd always noticed the way her eyes darkened, the slight upward tilt of her chin and the more square her shoulders got. And right now that's exactly how she stared at you. She was the predator and you were the prey.

She eyes locked sharply onto yours, but you didn't look away. No, instead you met her gaze with the same confidence. With her left foot tapping her black strapped heels against the floor, followed by the clicking of her neatly manicured nails on the head on her cane. She exhaled exasperatedly and raised both her eyebrows in my direction. She was waiting and she was impatient , she wanted an apology. But you weren't going to give her one, you did nothing wrong. The deep growl that left her lips went striaght to your lower stomach. She angrily and roughly turned the knob of her office door to give access into the oddly cold room. Ms Venable broke eye contact with you and brushed past to enter the room. You almost chuckled out loud at how adorable she was behaving. You mentally shrugged it off and made you way into the room behind her

It all happened so fast, her slender hands were wrapped around your neck as your back was shoved against the door,causing it to be closed and locked with a loud bang. Her face was now mere inches away from yours, the smell of her perfume and heavy minty breathe invades yours sense. It was a euphoric feeling, the way she towered over you and held the firm grip on your neck. " Why are you always with that daft moron?" She seethed though her clenched teeth. "Who? Chloe?" You questioned with feigned confusion. The hold on your neck only got tigher as you said her name. " don't say her disgusting name in my office" she spat, your face broke out in a big toothed smile. The brown colour in her eyes seemed to darken at your reaction,almost as though you were mocking her. “Why are you so jealous?” your smile seemed to get bigger. Ms Venable was taken aback by your statement. She simply scoffed and rolled her eyes. You were determined to make her admit to her jealousy just for the fun of it. "Awww Mina, it's okayyy to be a little jealous. It looks sexy on you" you flashed a wink in her direction. Ms Venable released you from her grip and placed both her hands atop the head of her cane. Her back was now straighten with purpose and superiority, if you weren't romantically involved with her one would say that she was completely unbothered. However,the faltering in her ability to maintain eye contact and the hard clenching of her jaw said otherwise.

"So you are saying that if I were to go after Chloe and comfort her right now ? You wouldn't care because it is IN the workplace right?" You used he own rule against her as you proceeded to push. Ms Venable swallowed hard at your comment. "No. I wouldn't care what you do" the grip on her cane was a lot stronger now,even to the point her knuckles were turning white. "Okay then mina" you spun around and reached for the for handle. Of course you weren't going to comfort Chloe, you just wanted to see how far your Mina will go. Since Wilhelmina was never one to be in touch with her emotions, she wouldn't express it verbally.

You jokingly turned the handle and opened the door. She still didn't stop you,but there was a hint of hurt and sadness that made its way to her face and body language. The way she shoulders hunched over with the subtle upturn of her eyebrows pulled are your heartstrings. She looked so vulnerable. "Aww mina don't do that face, of course I'm not going after her" you closed the door and hurriedly made your way towards her, throwing you arms around her body. The act took her by surprise, but she didn't mind, she mentally smiled that you choose her over Chloe. Ms Venable reciprocated your embrace,one hand rested firmly of her cane whilst the other was securely wrapped around your waist. However it was in a firm grip, as though if she were to left go you'd run away to Chloe. The hug was a warm and loved one, Ms Venable felt comfortable in your hold, the boiling feeling in her blood subsided and replaced with one of calm. She leaned down and nuzzled into the crook of your neck to inhale your perfume or rather the mild scent of the soap that would sometimes linger on your skin. Ms Venable softly inhaled against your neck , the scent of strawberries filled her senses. Her eyes snapped open at the smell, the grip around your waist tightened even more. Ms Venable roughly exhaled through her nose as thought she was trying to expel the ratched smelt that invaded her nasal cavity.You didn't pull away from the hug until a low guteral growl ripped it's way from her throath. The sound went straight to your lower stomach. Ms Venable hated the fact that you reeked of Chloe's nauseating perfume. It was a indication as though you belonged to Chloe and not to her. Ms Venable didn't like that one bit.

" you smell disgusting Y/N the fowl stench on your clothes is polluting my office. Strip" you let out a nervous chuckle at her request. However, Ms Venable kept a straight fact...she was serious. It dawned on you that her words were in fact a demand and not a request. You accepted that you weren't going to win whatever argument that she had planned in her head so you began to slowly strip away your clothes. As you did so she shameless roamed her eyes over your body. You weren't shy, it wasn't the first time she has done so. In fact you liked it,you basked in the idea of her loving your body. That wasn't a lie, she always made sure to express how much she worshiped your body by leaving kisses and marks. It was very intimate of her. You were now half naked standing infront of the lady in purple. Only in your underwear .

Ms Venable took one good look of your body and lowly hmmed in approval.  You preened at her reaction, your heart basically swole at her acknowledgment. Ms Venable broke her admiration on your figure and made her way to another door. A door that you never knew existed, it was a wooden door with a varnished finishing although it was pretty, it didn't quite go with the aesthetic of the room. You were never really allowed in her office since she basically ignored your existence. You walked behind her, following in her steps. "Pick up your clothes y/n ,you aren't an animal" a loud huff escaped your lips almost as though you were insulted.  You assembled the articles of your garment and folded it neatly. Ms Venable was already in the other room waiting for you. You swallowed thickly trying to suppress the nervousness that arised in your throath. As you entered the room you were in awe. Ms Venable basically had a whole bedroom. A queen size bed with silk sheets,a whole closet too that was walk in. The walls were white and accompanied in the cold atmosphere  was a mild yet soothing lavender scent.

*SLAM* Ms Venable shut the door. You junked and spun around to meet her list gaze. The coldness in the room made goosebumps arrise on your skin, the sharp look she gave you had you feeling like a prey being stalked.  Ms Venable was the predator and you have just been corner. She was hungry...very hungry. One of her hands gently pulled away from the surface of the door as she strutted towards you in a slow much dangerous manner. Out of reflex you backed away from her. Every one step she took you took two. As you stepped back you ran out of space, the back if your legs made contact with something hard.  A small sqeak of surprise made its way pass your slightly parted lips. When you turned around you saw that it was the lower part of the bed frame. At the point Ms Venable was towering over your small frame.  The closeness of her proximity got you feeling flustered, "who do you belong too?" She sneered. Feeling already small and intimated "you" she tilted her chin upwards but still didn't break eye contact with you. With a neatly manicured hand, she rested it on you chest and shoved you roughly on the silk bed.  The impact was rough yet gently. Ms Venable didn't move from the foot of the bed, instead she just stared at you. " you're so fucking hot when you're mad" you said as you broke the thick atmosphere. She raised an eyebrow at your bold response. She didn't waste any time walking over to the side table and receiving something. You tried to sit up to see what it was, only for Ms Venable to snap at you to remain lying down. You had no choice but to obey, you kept your eyes glued to the ceiling waiting in suspense of what Ms Venable had up her sleeve. The empty space on the bed beside you sank as it was your mina who occupied it, you turned  your face only to be met with her wicked grin. Based on that expression alone you knew that you were going to pay.

"Are you going to apologise?" She focused her gaze onto me even harder. Your reply was a confident shake of the head. It seemed as thought that was the reply Ms Venable wanted. " What's the safe word?" She asked gently, her voice was soft and inviting.  "Fire" you replied , you were excited for the unknown. You never know what way she was going to punish you, but each time it correlated to what she thought you did wrong.  It was quite clever and not really unexpected from a woman such as herself. Ms Venable made a casual gesture for you to turn over onto your side. That's weird you thought, you thought she was going to punish you.  You didn't  mind cuddling with your girlfriend, instead you smiled put of glee and turned to your side, awaiting for your mina to spoon you. You snuggled in closer to your girlfriend. The soothing breathing of your Mina  in your right ear was ticklish, almost as if it were sending electrical shocks to your core, she noticed the way you got fidgety but didn't say anything, instead she bite down on the shell of your ear and released low growls.  At this point your eyes were screwed tightly and you were trying to control your breathing.  Unknowingly you arched your back against your girlfriend. The small act of her pressed on your body and the attention you were  getting was too overwhelming.  You needed her and she knew it. An uncontrolled whisper left you parted lips," shhh baby i know, I'm only now starting, just close your eyes." Your heart rate was bearing so loud and fast at the moment. You listened to her and closed your eyes, you trusted your Mina.  As you did so you felt her knee wedge it's away between your thighs, although it wasn't high enough for you to grind your needy core against. Your eyes snapped open in furstation.  " Y/N I said to close your eyes. If you don't listen I will leave you alone" she demanded with a rough tone. You barely even made time to turn your head backwards to face her.  You listened to her threat and took it seriously, you closed your eyes tighter this time and awaited for her actions. "Hmmm good girl" she mummered against your ear. You glowed under her comment.  

Suddenly you felt her arm drape across your stomach, your breath hitched as she took the time to drag circles along your skin. Her hand progressively got lower and lower to where you needed it most. Your body was a map and Ms Venable had it memorized.  She knew all the ways to make you whimper and beg for her. As she reached the place you needed her most, a low sound almost a hum filled the thick lust atmosphere. You desperately fought against wanting to break her rule and see what it was. The suspense of whatever she was holding quickly left you mind when a feeling of pleasure and attention was bestowed upon your covered clit.  The agonising slow motion of her circling your throbbing clit, Ms Venable pressed small delicate kisses on the side of your face while slowly torturing you.  " mina.. more plea-se" you whimpered, even without having to open your eyes, you knew you smirked at that request. Ms Venable cocked a button on the vibrator and increased the speed. Although ypur eyes we closed, at this point your eyes rolled back to the back of your head.  The 2nd speed  was a lot more stimulating, her patterns of circles on your clit was now faster. There was currently a wet patch created by Ms Venable on your underwear. As she continued her task of pleasuring you, a feeling of tightness made its way to your lowered stomach. " oh fuck mina- mina can I cum?" You didn't get a reply instead she turned the speed up a little more, your body twisted in both pain and pleasure, at this point  the slick you produced was running down on her once cleaned sheets. Ms Venable loved whenever you did that, it remains her how much of a filthy slut you are, but more importantly you were hers and not Chloe's. She was famed to let you forget. She knew your body better than you as you were about to go over the edge Ms Venable pulled the vibrator away.  

"MINA what the - " you stopped mid sentence to swallow and catch your breathe" what the fuck i didn't cum" you finished your complaint in annoyance and sexual frustration. You tried to close your legs to rub your thighs together for any relief but Ms Venable raised her thigh higher and pressed it against your senstive clit as a warning against doing that.  A whimper and a whine emitted from you. "Oh fuck please mina more..." her thigh was still raised high and in contact with your clit . Out of reflex you started to grind on her, however she didn't stop this action.  You were trying to chase your high that she she rudely denied a few seconds ago. After a minute of two of trying to cum the feeling of tightness made its way to your lower stomach once again.  Your movements were sloppier, faster and more desperate this time. Ms Venable pressed her leg further up and rough weigh cause your hand of attach itself to her knee that was currently wedge between your thighs.  You didn't know if to push her leg sweety or pull it closer to your needy pussy. " ah- oh fuck yes" you cried out, your high was approaching. A few more grinding and you would be over the edge.  Ms Venable  leaned closer into  your ear, the warm breathe of her words tickled you" did you think it'd be so easy?" with those cursed words she pulled her thigh lower and away from your clit. You didn't bother to hide your frustration, you were almost on the verge of tears. "Mina please please let me cum for you, I will only cum for you" you begged but your pleas feel onto deaf ears.  She hummed in feign acknowledgement as she reached from your now ruined underwear. You realised what her intentions are, so you helped her to removed your underwear but kicking it down your legs. Ms Venable was faster though , she removed and placed back her leg between your thighs before they could have even closed.  

The cursed yet blessed sound of the vibrator filled your ears.  You were eager yet you dreaded the fact that she was going to deny you for a 3rd time.  She lowered the vibrator to your entrance to gather more slick, after doing so she  began to trace figures eights and circles on your clit. Your body jumped and tried to move away from the vibrator but with Ms Venable firmly pressed against your back, that was not possible, " shh baby it's okay, shh I'm right here. " she cooed into your ear.  Your bottom lip wobbled from the intense pleasure and pain overtaking your body at the moment. Your 3rd orgasm was building but you were determined to cum. "Oh fuck Mina please I am sorry you win i will- I will -oh fuck yes more !-i will. Never talk to her again. Just Please plea-se  let me cum" you no longer tried to fight her down, you apologised hoping that she would let you cum. "Aww baby  did you think by saying sorry I'd let you cum? you were oh so very wrong." She punctuated the sentence with her biting down on the shell of my air.  Inciting further pain, but the thrill of being denied was even greater. She held the vibrator against your clit pushing it down and rubbing it as a fast paste, your climax was 1 figure eight away by she pulled it away.  Almost as if she knew your body better than yours which in this case she did.  Your hips were pushed up trying to regain contact with the vibrator. " No behave." she demanded as she took her hand and whacked the inner part of your thigh.

Your body was sensitive to every touch and caress. Ms Venable removed her legs from between your thighs,which caused your legs to close with a wet soft smack. The slick that you produced was now running down both your legs and was now smeared on the bed. Ms Venable loved the sight,she loved breaking you and mending you back together with love and affection. All for her to do it all over again. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the current state of the situation. Ms Venable was making her way to the end of the bed,carefully crawling her way up to you. She must have taken her pain medication because she was able to move a bit freely without wincing. She motioned for you to turn over flat on your back,as your legs trembled so did the smile on her face. "Now Y/N I am going to teach you a lesson about behaving" she took her hands and gently rested them on your knees, tracing random patterns as you tried to catch your breathe from her edging you a few seconds ago. " What's the safe word baby?" She titled her chin upwards and stared at you from  under the eyes. "fire mina" you whimpered and released a breathy exhaled. She pried open your legs,the abrupt action and the sudden coldness between your legs excited you even more. Your slit was met with her velvet tongue, she slowly licked a strip of your womanhood, gathering all the slick that you produced.  The moans that made it's  way from her lips vibrated through you. Out of reflex you clamped your legs closed but the digging of her nails on your inner thigh forbade you from doing so. With no WHERE to ground your self you entangled your fingers into her red lush hair,messing it in the process. Ms Venable didn't care she was determined to punish you. You felt your orgasms approaching,in the process of you euphoria you decided not to ask to cum. You didn't care if she edged you again. You just needed to cum. Therefore you stayed silent on the bed while your lover ate you out. You bite your lower lip to prevent anymore high  pitch moans from leaving. You were getting closer to your high,the way she slipped her tongue into your fold and took your clit into her mouth took you over the edge. You were already climaxing, a loud moan echoed into the room followed by the high arching of your back off of the bed. Ms Venable knew you were going to cum,the only reason you did was because she allowed it. After you came down from your climax, your heavy breathing was the only sound heard. You were sleepy and so you fluttered your eyes closed. In hope that Mina will do the after care routine,but Ms Venable didn't move.

She took four of her fingers and whacked your already sensitive pussy, as you let out  a loud yelp your eyes were open in shock. " ah ah ah my little slut. Did i say we were done?"  She pried open your legs once more. "No mina...but-" " But nothing y/n. You said that your body belongs to me Yes?" She scooted closer.  "Yes Ms Venable. " she smiled at your reply. "Good because I-"  she planted kiss on your clit "am-" a next kiss on your stomach "not-" she sucked on each of you erect nipples and after planted a kiss on each one. " done." She finished her sentence by kissing you full front on your lips. Your eyes automatically closed to savour the moment. As her tongue danced with yours the moans that each of you made were captured by each of your lips. It was a loving and caring kiss. After a few minutes of an intense make out she pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of her lips on your,Ms Venable silence your sounds of plea with a press of her index finger against your lips. " Now tell me y/n how long has you and Chloe been working together?" Confusion crept it's way on to your face." Uh...4 weeks why?" Your eyebrows were now furrowed. " no reason baby" she leaned down and ghosted a soft kiss upon your lips. Ms Venable dragged her finger down the length of your body and found it's way back to your pussy. Your body jerked at her actions. " this so where the fun begins" as she said that, she shoved her index finger into your tight core. Immediately your body accepted her and hugged her back. She chuckled lowly at your response. It wasn't a laugh of making fun of , no it was a laugh of her already knowing the outcome. " week 1-you couldn't even tolerate her, yet you still showed her around the office" she began to list.  But you were so eager for her to start finger fucking you with her fingers that you didn't even pay much attention to her. " week 2- you both started to eat lunch together in the break room" what that being said,she added a second finger. Your walls hugged her even tighter causing Ms Venable to moan at your body's response. " week 3- you exchanged phone numbers and started talking outside of work. IN. OUR. HOME" as she said those last   three words she shoved her 3rd finger into your stuffed cunt. Thrusting deeply as she did so. " ahh ah fuck Mina please-" you moaned in both pain and pleasure. You begged her but she ignored you." And week 4 - I walk into you office to find you in the arms of another woman" at this point her fourth finger and poking at your entrance. "oh mina please.. please I can't- thats too full" tears started to stream down your face. With only three fingers filling you Ms Venable still was determined to finish her punishment. " awww my baby slut, don't cry" she leaned over and licked away your tears that were streaming down your face," you're my good girl right?" She asked with worry. Of course you were her good girl,why did she need to ask?? you thought." Yes mina I am your good girl" you said worryingly. " so you will be good for me?" You nodded eagerly in reply with your bottom lip tucked away under your teeth. " Good." Ms Venable looked away from your hopeful face and turned to the sight of her fingers in your pussy. Your girlfriend gathered her saliva in her mouth and elegantly spat on her already occupied fingers. Her skilled fingers naked to coat the fourth finger, she looked at you , to which you gave her a small nod. She prodded at your entrance with her fourth finger and easily slipped it in. You were overwhelmed and filled with your girlfriend's fingers. Ever so slowly she began to move her fingers inside of You. " oh fuck Mina f-f" this caused Venable to stop her movements. " Fire?" She questioned worriedly. You groaned out of annoyance, "no mina,faster please. It feels good" with no time to waste Ms Venable quickly began to thrust her fingers in and out of your tight core. The feeling of a knot began to build in your stomach. The idea of being finger fucked by the most uptight person in the whole building made your heart blossom.

The way your walls pushed her fingers out and pulled her in of you at the same time almost sent you over the edge. Ms Venable knew you were going to finish any time soon. She curled her fingers and rubbed against your g-spot. " it's okay baby you can cum,cum for me my little one" your entire body convulsed as you released all over her hand. The feeling of pure ecstasy overcame your body. Ms Venable gently removed her fingers from your pussy, as she did so, more of your cum spilt over onto the bed. With maintained eye contact she took two of her fingers into her mouth a sucked it clean. You gave her a weak smile,you were tired and she knew it. Before you could have dozed off she brought the other two fingers for you to clean off. As you had your girlfriend's fingers in your mouth She spoke," after this i am sure everyone in the building knows we are a thing now" a small giggle left your throath. Ms Venable made motion to get off of the bed,but you grabbed her wrist telling her to stop." Stay a little bit please " you mewled at her. She rolled her eyes and smirked," only for a little bit then we have to get you cleaned up" she stated. You opened your arms for her to cuddle up beside you, and nodded your head in agreement. "Y/n promise me your won't talk to Chloe anymore" Ms Venable kissed the top of your head awaiting for you response. "Yes mina I promise,anything for you." With your head resting against her you heard the low "hmm" that rumbled in her chest. " Good. Because you're mine. I don't like to share" and with that statement the grip on your waist got firmer as you dozed off to sleep in the arms of your lover.