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verus-veritas · 6 hours ago

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Possessed by Pleasure

(AI Generated)

The summer sun beat down mercilessly on the empty park, the air thick with humidity that clung to everything like a second skin. Colton, a broad-shouldered college jock with a mop of blonde hair plastered to his forehead, chucked another rock at the ducks gliding across the pond. The splash echoed in the stillness, the ducks scattering with indignant quacks. He wiped sweat from his brow, his tank top soaked through, clinging to his chiseled frame.

Nearby, Samuel sprawled across a weathered bench, his muscular legs splayed wide, fanning himself lazily with his baseball cap. His thick, curly mullet dripped sweat onto his neck, the dark brown strands matted against his tanned skin. His hairy chest glistened under the open shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, the heat making him careless.

“Man, this summer’s a fuckin’ drag,” Colton groaned, tossing another rock. “No parties, no chicks, just our dumbass parents nagging us about school.”

Samuel snorted, tilting his cap back to reveal his sharp green eyes. “Tell me about it, bro. My old man’s on my case about grades again. Like I give a shit about calculus when I could be balls-deep in some sorority girl.” He grinned, crude and unapologetic, scratching at the coarse hair on his chest. “Remember that blonde from the Kappa house? Swear she was begging for it after, like, two beers.”

Colton laughed, a low, arrogant sound. “Yeah, dude, you’re such a stud. Bet she’s still dreaming about that mullet tickling her thighs.”

They cackled, their voices carrying across the empty park, brimming with the careless bravado of youth. They were kings of their own small world, untouchable in their shared arrogance, lazy in their disregard for anyone but themselves.

Boredom gnawed at them, the kind that made trouble sound like fun. “Let’s head into town,” Samuel suggested, sitting up and cracking his knuckles. “Steal some shit, mess with people. You know, the usual.”

Colton’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Fuck yeah. Let’s see how many of those old farts we can piss off before dinner.”

They grabbed their stuff, littering the park with empty soda cans and chip bags without a second thought, and kicked over a “No Loitering” sign by the park entrance for good measure. The crunch of metal under Samuel’s sneaker made them both laugh as they sauntered toward town, their strides long and confident.

The main street was quiet, the heat keeping most folks indoors. They passed a diner, where Samuel flipped off a waitress who glared at them through the window, and stopped outside an antique store tucked between a barber shop and a laundromat. The faded sign read “Mabel’s Oddities,” and the window displayed dusty trinkets and creepy porcelain dolls that made Colton shudder exaggeratedly.

“This place looks like a fuckin’ haunted house,” he muttered, but his grin betrayed his interest.

Inside, the air was musty, thick with the scent of old wood and mothballs. Shelves overflowed with junk—rusted candelabras, chipped teacups, a taxidermied owl that seemed to stare right through them. Behind the counter sat an old woman, her hair a wild nest of gray, her eyes sharp and suspicious. She wore a shawl that looked older than the town itself, and her voice rasped like dry leaves when she warned them, “Don’t touch nothin’ unless you’re buyin’.”

“Yeah, yeah, chill, grandma,” Samuel said, flashing a smirk as he poked at a brass lamp.

The woman, presumably Mabel, glared but said nothing, her fingers tightening around a cane propped against the counter. Colton wandered toward the back, nudging Samuel and nodding toward a glass case behind the counter. Inside was an ancient tome, its leather cover cracked and adorned with strange, swirling sigils that seemed to pulse under the dim light. A small brass lock held it shut, glinting faintly.

“Dude,” Colton whispered, his eyes gleaming. “That book looks like some Harry Potter shit. Bet it’s worth something.”

Samuel’s grin widened. “Let’s snag it. You distract the old hag, I’ll grab it.”

Colton nodded, sauntering to the back of the store where he “accidentally” knocked over a shelf of glass figurines. The crash was deafening, and Mabel hobbled over, cursing under her breath. Samuel seized the moment, slipping behind the counter with the grace of a practiced thief. His fingers worked quickly, picking the lock on the case with a paperclip he kept in his pocket for exactly this kind of thing. The tome was heavier than it looked, its pages yellowed and brittle, but he tucked it under his arm and whistled sharply. Colton bolted for the door, Samuel close behind, their laughter echoing as they sprinted down the street.

Mabel stood at the entrance, shaking her fist and screaming, “You little shits! You’ll regret touchin’ that book!”

Samuel turned, flipping her off with both hands. “Suck it, you old bitch! Go back to your cauldron!” They disappeared around the corner, the tome pressed against Samuel’s sweat-soaked shirt, their cackling fading into the humid air.

—

Back at Samuel’s house, the two sprawled in the living room, the AC barely keeping up with the heat. The tome sat on the coffee table, its presence oddly commanding. Its leather cover was warm to the touch, the sigils seeming to writhe when caught in the corner of their eyes. Colton pried open the lock with a pocketknife, revealing pages filled with incomprehensible text, the ink faded but still dark in places, some smeared with what looked like dried blood. The metallic scent hit them both, and Samuel wrinkled his nose. “What the fuck is this? Some kinda vampire diary?”

Colton flipped through, stopping on a page with a vivid illustration. It showed a circle of naked figures—men and women locked in a writhing, orgiastic embrace around a pentagram. Above them hovered a horned creature, its form both grotesque and alluring, with a tail curling like smoke.

“Yo, check out the tits on that one,” Colton said, pointing at a woman in the drawing, his voice dripping with juvenile glee.

Samuel laughed, but his eyes caught something else—a scrawled translation beneath the pentagram, written in shaky Latin.

“Hey, look at this. Someone wrote what it says.” Without thinking, he read the words aloud, his voice stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables: “Ego invoco te, Xaz’zaraul, filius Asmoseros, dominus libidinis…”

The incantation rolled off his tongue, each word heavier than the last, until the final syllable hung in the air like a thunderclap.

The world went silent. The hum of the AC, the distant chirp of cicadas, even the creak of the house all vanished. The air thickened, pressing against their skin, and a wave of dread washed over them, primal and suffocating.

Colton’s eyes widened. “Yo, Sam, you feel that?”

Before his friend could answer, a deep, sultry voice purred from behind them, “Oh, I definitely felt that.”

Hands, warm, strong, and unnervingly heavy suddenly settled on their shoulders. They yelped, scrambling forward and spinning to face the intruder.

He was massive, at least seven feet tall, his skin a deep, blood-red that seemed to glow faintly in the dim room. Black, wiry hair covered his broad chest and scalp, framing a face that was both youthful and wickedly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a goatee that he stroked with long, clawed fingers. A tattered cloth hung low around his hips, barely covering him, and a long, whip-like tail swayed lazily behind. The air around him shimmered with heat, carrying a scent that was intoxicating—sweat, musk, and something primal that made their pulses race.

Colton stammered, “What… what the fuck are you?”

The creature bowed with a flourish, his tail flicking playfully. “Xaz’zaraul, at your service. But you boys can call me Raul. One of the thirteen sons of Asmoseros, lord of lust and carnal delight.” His voice was like velvet, each word dripping with promise. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he savored the humid air of the room. “It’s been… oh, two thousand years since I last tasted the mortal world. You boys opened a lovely little rift for me to slip through.”

Samuel’s shirt, discarded on the couch earlier, caught Raul’s eye. He bent down, picking it up with a reverence that was almost obscene, and pressed it to his face. His long, forked tongue slithered out, lapping at the sweat-soaked fabric, his sharp teeth grazing it as he moaned softly. “Such… vitality,” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

Samuel, pale and trembling, shouted, “You’re a fucking sex demon?!”

Raul’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Precisely.” He dropped the shirt, his gaze sweeping over them both, lingering on Samuel’s hairy chest, slick with sweat from the heat. “And I’m here to indulge. But first, I need a human vessel. A permanent home in this world.”

His eyes locked onto Samuel, predatory and hungry. “You’ll do nicely.”

Samuel bolted for the door, his heart pounding, but Raul vanished in a blur, reappearing in front of him with a chuckle. “Now, now, where’s the fun in running?”

Samuel skidded to a halt, fists raised, his voice shaking but defiant. “I’ll kick your ass back to whatever fucked-up hell you crawled out of!”

Raul laughed, a rich, throaty sound. “I admire that fire. It’ll taste divine.”

Before Samuel could swing, Raul’s hand shot out, clawed fingers tangling in the jock’s curly mullet. Samuel froze, his body seizing as if struck by lightning. His eyes rolled back, turning milky white, and his limbs trembled violently, muscles twitching under his sweat-slicked skin.

Raul threw his head back, moaning, “More! More! Give me more!” His voice was ecstatic, feeding off whatever he was pulling from Samuel.

Seconds later, the shaking stopped. Samuel’s fists dropped, his shoulders slumped, and his head lolled forward. His eyes returned to their normal green, but they were empty, unfocused, like windows to a vacant house. His jaw hung slack, a thin line of drool trickling down his chin, pooling on his hairy chest.

Colton, frozen in horror, choked out, “What did you do to him?”

Raul smirked, his voice suddenly shifting seamlessly into Samuel’s, complete with the faint Texan drawl. “I vacated the premises, bro. Flushed out all that pesky personality, memories, everything that made him… Samuel. He’s an empty vessel now, ready for me.” He winked, his expression so eerily Samuel that Colton’s stomach churned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got all his essence. I’ll slide right into his life, and no one will ever know.”

Colton tried to run, but his body wouldn’t move, his limbs locked as if bound by invisible chains. He could only scream, his voice hoarse. “Let us go, you freak!”

Raul wagged a finger, his voice back to its sultry timbre. “Oh, Colton, where’s the fun in that? Stay. Watch the show.”

He turned to Samuel’s mindless body, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Leaning close, he whispered into Samuel’s ear, words too soft and guttural to decipher, a low chant that seemed to vibrate through the air.

Samuel’s body suddenly jerked to life, moving with a clumsy, puppet-like grace, as if strings were pulling him from within. His hands fumbled at his belt, fingers trembling as they unbuckled it, the leather sliding through the loops with a slow, deliberate rasp. His jeans fell to his ankles, followed by his boxers, the fabric catching briefly on his thick thighs before pooling on the floor. His cock sprang free, already half-hard, glistening with sweat in the humid air, the tip twitching as if responding to an unseen command.

Samuel’s face twisted into a vacant, perverse grin, his mouth slurring incoherent groans, “Uhh… nngh… f-feels…” His voice was thick, sluggish, barely forming words, each sound dripping with drool that spilled from his slack jaw, sliding down his chin and onto his hairy chest.

His hands moved mechanically, guided by Raul’s will, fingers grazing his nipples, pinching them until they hardened. His groans grew louder, more animalistic, “G-good… uhh… m-more…” His body shuddered with each touch, his muscles flexing involuntarily, sweat beading and rolling down his torso, catching in the coarse hair that spread across his pecs and trailed down to his navel.

Raul stepped closer, his presence radiating heat that made the air shimmer. He pressed his nose into the crook of Samuel’s neck, inhaling deeply, his long tongue flicking out to taste the salt of Samuel’s skin.

“This flesh,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent growl, “so ripe, so brimming with primal energy.”

His clawed fingers traced the contours of Samuel’s back, lingering on the curve of his spine, then sliding up to tangle in the damp curls of his mullet. He tugged gently, tilting Samuel’s head back, exposing the taut line of his throat. Samuel’s empty eyes stared at the ceiling, his mouth open, drool pooling and dripping in slow, viscous strands.

Raul’s hands roamed lower, skimming over Samuel’s hips, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin just above his groin. Samuel’s cock twitched, hardening fully, precum beading at the tip and sliding down the shaft, mixing with the sweat that coated his skin. Raul’s tail slithered forward, its tip curling around Samuel’s thigh, the smooth, warm surface brushing against his inner leg, teasingly close to his balls.

Samuel’s body reacted instinctively, his hips jerking forward, a slurred moan escaping his lips, “Nngh… s-so… gooood… uuuh…” His face contorted into a lewd grimace, his tongue lolling slightly, drool spilling onto his chest, glistening in the dim light.

The demon’s hands guided Samuel’s own, one wrapping around his cock, the other kneading his pecs, fingers digging into the muscle, tugging at the coarse hair. Raul moved with deliberate slowness, savoring every reaction, every twitch of Samuel’s mindless body.

He leaned in, his lips brushing Samuel’s ear, whispering more incomprehensible words that made Samuel’s groans deepen, his voice a low, guttural, “F-fuuuck… nnngh… p-please…” The words were barely coherent, a string of slurred syllables driven by pure sensation, his body a puppet to Raul’s perverse control.

Across the room, a mirror reflected the scene, but Raul’s form was invisible. It was just Samuel, standing alone, his hand stroking his cock with slow, rhythmic motions, his face twisted into a perverse smirk that looked wrong, alien on his features. His hairy chest heaved with each breath, sweat and drool mixing into a slick sheen that caught the light.

Colton, paralyzed, could only watch, his pleas growing weaker, his voice cracking. “Stop it… please… that’s my best friend…”

Raul’s voice shifted back to Samuel’s, taunting, the Texan drawl dripping with mockery. “Yo, bro, check it out. Feels so fuckin’ good jerkin’ my fat cock. Look at it, man, fuckin’ throbbing.”

He sped up the strokes, Samuel’s hips bucking in rhythm, the wet slapping of skin growing louder, more frantic. Samuel’s body was a perfect marionette, every movement dictated by Raul’s will, his thighs trembling, his cock leaking steadily now, precum dripping onto the floor in thick, glistening drops.

His groans were a constant stream of slurred nonsense, “Uhh… f-feels… s-sooo… nngh… g-goood…” His eyes remained vacant, but his face twisted into expressions of raw, mindless pleasure, his mouth hanging open, drool pooling and spilling, his tongue flicking out instinctively.

Raul’s tail tightened around Samuel’s thigh, the tip brushing higher, teasing the sensitive skin just beneath his balls. Samuel’s body shuddered violently, his hips thrusting forward, his cock pulsing in his hand. Raul��s fingers slid down Samuel’s chest, tracing the lines of muscle, circling his navel, then dipping lower to cup his balls, rolling them gently in his palm.

Samuel’s groans grew louder, more desperate, “M-more… uhh… f-fuuck… nngh… meee…” His voice was a broken record of pleasure, each sound punctuated by the wet slap of his hand on his cock, the slick sound filling the room like a perverse symphony.

Raul leaned back, his eyes gleaming with delight as he watched Samuel’s body writhe under his control. He pressed his chest against Samuel’s back, his red skin hot against the jock’s sweat-slicked flesh, guiding both of Samuel’s hands now—one stroking his cock, the other pinching and twisting his nipple. The demon’s long tongue slithered out, lapping at the sweat on Samuel’s neck, then trailing down to his shoulder, tasting the salt and musk with a low, satisfied moan.

“This body is a fucking feast,” Raul purred, his voice vibrating against Samuel’s skin. “Every inch of it, pulsing with desire. I can’t wait to play with you forever.”

Samuel’s body responded with a shudder, his hips bucking harder, his cock throbbing in his hand. His face was a mask of mindless ecstasy, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open in a constant stream of drool and slurred groans, “G-good… uughh… s-so… f-fuuuuck…”

His thighs trembled, his muscles flexing and relaxing in waves, his body entirely at the mercy of Raul’s touch. The demon’s tail slid higher, the tip brushing against Samuel’s cock, curling around the base and squeezing gently, eliciting another slurred moan, “Nngh… p-please… m-more…”

Raul’s grin widened, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Time for the finale, Samuel. Cum for me. Let me in.”

He pressed himself fully against Samuel’s back, his red-skinned form aligning perfectly with the jock’s sweat-soaked body. Samuel’s face flushed red, his grin blissful and empty, his thighs spasming as his cock pulsed harder, the precum flowing freely now, coating his hand and dripping onto the floor. Raul’s hands tightened on Samuel’s, guiding the strokes with fierce intensity, the rhythm relentless, the wet slapping echoing through the room.

Then, with a devious chuckle, Raul began to merge with Samuel’s body. His red skin shimmered as he pressed himself into Samuel’s back, his form sinking into the jock’s flesh. The invasion was slow, deliberate, each inch of Raul’s body melding with Samuel’s, the sensation overwhelming.

Samuel’s body convulsed violently, his eyes crossing, his hips thrusting wildly as if trying to escape the intrusion but unable to resist. His groans became a cacophony of slurred, incoherent sounds, “Nngh…yeees… f-fuuck… c-cum… uuhh… i-inside…”

His cock throbbed, the tip swollen, and with a final, shuddering thrust, he erupted. Thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering his hairy chest, his face, and the mirror across the room. The orgasm was relentless, wave after wave, his body jerking with each pulse, cum mixing with the sweat and drool that coated him, his face twisted in blissful, mindless pleasure.

Raul’s tail was the last to disappear, slithering into Samuel’s back with a final, obscene wriggle. Samuel’s body arched, his head thrown back, a guttural scream tearing from his throat as the demon fully claimed him. His cock continued to spew, the cum pooling on the floor, streaking his thighs, and matting the hair on his chest.

His body slumped briefly, jerking erratically, then straightened, standing tall as he took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes rolled back, then snapped forward, no longer vacant but gleaming with a devious, unfamiliar light.

Colton, tears streaming down his face, whispered, “Sam?”

The figure turned, grinning. “Of course it’s me, bro. Your best friend since middle school.”

The voice was wrong—Raul’s deep, sultry tone. He laughed, catching himself, and shifted back to Samuel’s voice, complete with the Texan drawl. “Whoops. Sorry, but Samuel’s gone now. His body and mind, however, are all mine to keep.”

He stretched, flexing Samuel’s biceps, then buried his face in Samuel’s hairy armpit, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, this flesh is exquisite.” His tongue lapped at the sweat, a low moan escaping as he savored it.

He ran his hands over Samuel’s chest, smearing cum across the hair, then scooped some from the floor and licked it off his fingers, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“This body’s a goddamn masterpiece,” he purred, flexing again, admiring the taut muscles. “Not as strong as my old form, but the sensations… worth it.”

Colton’s voice was barely a whisper. “W-What about me?”

The new Samuel sauntered over, grabbing Colton’s chin and licking the side of his face, tasting the salt of his tears and sweat.

“Don’t worry, bro,” he said, his voice dripping with Samuel’s cadence. “My younger demon brother’s dying to try on some human flesh. You’ll make a fine vessel.” He grinned, the expression alien on Samuel’s face, a perverse mask hiding the demon within. “We’re gonna have so much fun with this world.”

Colton’s tears fell faster, licked away by the demon’s tongue. The room reeked of sweat, cum, and something darker, the air heavy with the consequences of their reckless theft. The tome lay forgotten on the table, its pages fluttering as if stirred by an unseen wind, a silent witness to the demonic desires now unleashed into the world.

The End & Beginning of the Lust Demon's Era...

#mind control #reprogramming #possession #demon #jock #identity theft #AI Generated

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sunandflame · 1 day ago

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The Weapon with Her Eyes

During a mission for the Cross Guild, Mihawk encounters something the World Government was never meant to create.

Warnings: slight angst, mild violence, child soldier implications, government experimentation

Word Count: 1300~

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x F!OldWarlord!Reader x Seraphim!Reader

crossposted on AO3

The battlefield was silent.

No screams. No cannon fire. Just the creaking of ruined metal and the soft flicker of firelight licking over broken walls. The enemy base had fallen without honor, its defenders cut down, scattered like leaves before a gale. Mihawk stood at the center of the smoldering wreckage, Yoru dripping red, his cape fluttering in the scorched wind.

He had been sent alone, as usual. Buggy’s “genius strategies” usually translated to send Mihawk, pray for the other side. Mihawk never prayed.

He was turning to leave—his mind already drifting to where you waited, curled up with a book, perhaps, or tending the quiet garden behind the Cross Guild’s hidden estate—when the temperature shifted.

It wasn’t the heat. It was the flame.

A plume of fire bloomed in the corner of his vision.

He turned slowly, fingers tightening around Yoru’s hilt.

From the wreckage stepped a figure—tall, barefoot, cloaked in embers. Brown skin marked by Lunarian heritage. Snow-white hair. Jet-black wings. Fire burning at her back. Her pupils glinted like five-pointed stars. And her face...

His grip faltered for half a second.

Your face.

Younger—much younger, barely eight in age, but unusually tall for a child. The shape of your eyes, the arch of your brow, even the way she stood with her weight subtly shifted to the left, as you often did when assessing someone you didn’t trust.

The clone stepped forward, weapon in hand.

Mihawk’s breath didn’t catch. His heartbeat didn’t spike. But for the first time in years, something inside him stilled.

This was you. No—not you, he reminded himself coldly. This was a Seraphim. A government weapon. A counterfeit made in your image. Something made in a lab, shaped by data and devilry.

And yet—

The clone raised her blade. Not Yoru. A crueler thing—thin, jagged. Lacking elegance. The green glow of synthetic blood pulsed beneath her skin.

She lunged.

Mihawk parried without thinking, steel shrieking against steel. The impact sent sparks flying, the ground beneath them cracking. She was fast. Faster than her size should allow.

She came again, silent, precise. He countered. Again. And again. The clash of blades rang out like thunder in the hollow city.

But then—something changed. She stopped. The clone backed off, lowering her blade slowly, eyes still locked on him. Her head tilted—slightly to the side.

Just like you did.

Mihawk straightened, cape billowing with the wind. His sword remained in hand, yet he did not raise it. They stared at each other in the stillness. The fires crackled. Somewhere in the distance, the cry of a hawk echoed through the smoke. She blinked slowly. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes... they recognized him.

Not just as an enemy. But as someone.

“You were sent to kill me,” Mihawk said evenly. Not a question. A truth. “And yet, you hesitate.”

The Seraphim said nothing.

He studied her. Not with wonder. With calculation—and a tinge of something colder. So this was the depth of the World Government’s depravity.

They hadn’t just cloned his former comrades. They had taken the only woman he allowed himself to belong to. Turned her into a weapon. Dressed her in white flame and filled her with borrowed blood. Given her your stance. Your eyes. Your silence.

They had forged her into a sword meant for him.

His lip curled. Not in rage—but in something sharper, older.

Contempt.

“You mock the dead,” he murmured, more to the air than to her. “But she lives. She is no ghost for you to copy.”

Still, the clone stood there. Tilting her head again. The fire behind her flickered once, then burned brighter. And then—something terrible happened. She took a step toward him. Not fast. Not attacking.

Curious.

As if drawn to him. As if—like you—she found something about his stillness... comforting.

Mihawk stiffened. “I see,” he said coldly. “You inherited more than her face.”

A mistake. A flaw in the programming. They’d encoded too much. Her movements were too natural. Not mimicry. Instinct. She was imprinted. On him. The child—a living weapon made in your image—liked him. Just like you did.

He sheathed Yoru in one fluid motion. “Return to your masters.”

No response.

“I will not strike you unless you force me.”

The wind shifted. Her wings twitched. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her weapon. Then, slowly, she lowered it. Their eyes locked again—black steel and artificial starlight. For a moment, the battlefield no longer existed. Only the burning ruin of a home neither of them wanted, and the quiet tension of mirrored silhouettes.

She turned.

She left.

The flames did not follow her.

~~~

He returned to you that night without a word.

You looked up from your book when the door creaked open. The way your face softened upon seeing him—not wounded, not broken—was the only comfort he needed. But Mihawk didn’t speak right away.

You rose, setting your book aside. “Something happened.”

He nodded. Shrugged off his coat. It smelled of ash and ozone.

You reached for him instinctively, brushing soot from his collar. “Did it hurt?”

“No.” He hesitated. “Not physically.”

You stilled. That wasn’t like him. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing the fine scar there. “What did you see?”

He didn’t meet your eyes. “She had your face.”

That’s when your hands dropped. You understood immediately.

“A Seraphim.”

“Yes.”

He poured a glass of wine. Took a slow sip. “I fought her. Briefly.”

You didn’t ask if he’d won. He wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t.

“But she pulled back,” he continued. “Watched me. As if—” he paused. “As if she knew me.”

You swallowed. “They say the Seraphim can inherit more than strength. That S-Snake... she acted like Hancock.”

Mihawk nodded. “Then this one—she tilted her head. The same way you do. Mirrored your stance. And when I spoke, she listened. Not like a weapon. Like a girl.”

You sat beside him, silent. The wine in your own glass was untouched.

“They used my Lineage Factor,” you whispered. “My mannerisms. My blood. And gave her his flames.”

Mihawk’s jaw tensed. “She looked at me,” he said, “the way you did, when we met. Curious. Not afraid.”

You reached for his hand. His fingers closed around yours tightly. There was tension in his grip, but not violence. Not directed at you.

“What did you feel?” you asked softly.

He didn’t answer immediately. Finally, he said: “Disgust. Not with her. With them.”

Your hand squeezed his.

“I have hunted Marines before. But this—this is different. This is not war. It’s desecration.” He turned his face to yours. “They would have sent her to kill me. Your face—your likeness—striking at me in battle.” His voice was quiet, but lethal. “I will not forgive it.”

You nodded. “Then don’t.”

He leaned in, forehead brushing yours. “I wonder,” he murmured, “what she will become.”

You thought about what he had told you. Of the flame on her back. Of her star-shaped eyes. Of her watching him—not as a soldier, but as a girl unsure of herself. Searching.

“She has your face,” he said again. “But she is not you.”

“No,” you said gently. “But she’s not a monster either. Not yet.”

Mihawk didn’t reply. But the weight of his silence said everything.

He had spared her. But the Government would pay. They had crossed a line that night. Not by cloning him. Not by playing god. But by forging a weapon out of his one exception. The one person who made him believe peace was more than just a myth.

And if she ever turned against them?

Then perhaps one day, that white-haired Seraphim girl with your eyes would find her own sword. And the man who first spared her life would be the one to teach her how to wield it.

But until then, he sat with you.

The real you—warm, breathing, and entirely your own.

Not a clone. Not a weapon.

Just the woman he would burn the world to protect.

@iloveseraphims my sweetheart, I hope this is to your liking ❤️

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annlyticalarchive · 1 day ago

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CHAPTER ELEVEN: When the Light is Running Low

”You will be different, sometimes you’ll feel like an outcast, but you’ll never be alone”

Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader

Prologue|Chapter 10|Chapter 11 (Here)| Chapter 12

w/c: 6.3k

You always prided yourself on being smart.

Even before you could talk, you’d help Ma and Pa fix things around the farm. Holding flashlights, handing over tools, quietly watching and learning. As you got older, as your powers developed, it got easier. Being able to literally see what was wrong inside a piece of machinery saved your family hundreds on repair bills. Something rattled? You knew where. Something sparked? You saw it happen.

You’d rebuilt engines before. Welded a broken plow. Repaired old wiring from a solar inverter.

But this printer was your mortal enemy.

It had jammed, flashed three different error messages, and somehow managed to chew up paper like it had a personal vendetta against everyone in the Daily Planet. You were convinced if anyone else had tried to fix it, they’d have sliced their hand open on the exposed internals at least five times by now.

You sat on your knees in front of it, sleeves rolled up, jaw clenched tight. You were trying, truly trying, not to snap the entire housing in half. One good squeeze and you’d be free of this misery forever.

You were elbow-deep in the open side panel when a soft knock came at the office door, followed immediately by it opening.

“Hello? I was told this was where I’d find…” a woman said your name.

You startled upright, banging your shoulder on the inside of the machine as you turned to face her, and then froze.

Because standing in the doorway was her.

Atom Eve.

Undeniably. Absolutely. Atom Eve.

Even in casual clothes, she looked the exact same as she did in costume. Her hair was styled the same way. Same impossible confidence with perfect posture. Nothing was different.

You stared.

So did she.

And now you finally understood why Mark had always insisted you should wear a mask.

Eve blinked first. “Oh. Uh…”

You scrambled to stand up straighter. “Hi. Sorry. Printer problems.”

“I’m Samantha. Samantha Wilkins,” she said, stepping forward while you awkwardly stayed still.

“Uh— I would, Miss Wilkins, but…” You held your hands up, palms outward. Ink smeared across your fingers and wrists, the result of an exploded cartridge, one of many reasons this printer was a nightmare.

She smiled, unbothered, and reached for your hand anyway. A soft buzz filled the air as her fingertips glowed pink, and suddenly, the ink vanished.

“Call me Eve,” she said, shaking your now-clean hand. Her voice dropped just slightly as she added, “He couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Didn’t help that we’d already met.”

She didn’t say his name, but she didn’t have to.

“Oh, trust me, I know,” you said with a dry laugh. “Well, it’s nice to properly meet you. But, uh… what brings you here? For me-me, I mean?”

Eve gave you a quick look, something between amusement and curiosity, before continuing, “I’ve actually been following your articles since you covered that playground sinkhole collapse.”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, a bit surprised. “That one was tough. I’m just glad no one was seriously injured. I wrote a follow-up a few days later, everyone was set to recover nicely.”

Eve nodded slightly, her demeanor noticeably more reserved now than when she first walked in.

“Thats good, but not the reason I wanted to talk.”

“I figured.” You pushed your glasses up and gestured toward the door. “I’m scheduled for my break anyway. Mind if we talk more at the café a block down?”

She nodded and followed you out of the Daily Planet building. She didn’t fully relax until you reached the café, and only seemed to settle once you handed her a coffee alongside your own.

You took a sip, then glanced at her. “So… what did you want to talk about?”

“I’ve been following your work. You’ve been writing a lot about reconstruction efforts lately, right?”

“Mhm.” You nodded again, more firmly this time. “With how often state and local property gets destroyed, the infrastructure support just isn’t keeping up. The systems in place are overwhelmed, and honestly? Neglected.”

Eve tapped her fingernail lightly against her coffee cup. “I want to help,” she said bluntly. “But every time I try... it never ends well.”

“I can get you in contact with some nonprofits and charity orgs,” you quickly offered, already digging into your bag. You tore out a page from your notebook and quickly jotted down names and contact info you remembered from recent interviews. “They’re always looking for extra hands. Powered or not.”

Eve took the list, staring at the page with something unreadable flickering in her expression.

“Last time I helped...” she said, more quietly this time. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but it was the opposite.”

“Last time, you ran in blind,” you corrected bluntly but tried to be gentle about it. “These folks? They’ll point you in the right direction with a proper plan. They want help, they just need it to be organized. And if these don’t work out, I’ll find more. There’s always a way to make a difference. One way or another.”

Eve looked at you for a long moment before letting out a breath, like something had finally eased in her shoulders. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

She extended her hand. “Thanks. Really.”

You shook it, offering a small smile of your own. “Anytime, and hey, you’re always free to stop by.”

Eve gave you a soft smile, and the two of you parted ways with a quiet goodbye, maybe not friends, not yet, but something close enough to make you feel like it was the start of a good week.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Oh, wrong you were. Laughably so.

If you had to put a finger on why you felt so awful, you’d have an entire list.

It had been rainy and gloomy for nearly five days straight, and while you’d always been hit with weather and seasonal depression quicker and harder than most, it didn’t help that you couldn’t sleep either.

There was this ringing.

Just loud enough to be annoying.

Pulsing enough that you couldn’t get used to it.

Just enough to keep you up for days, and give you a headache.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The first day had been mostly normal.

You woke up with your alarm, hit snooze, panicked when you heard the plastic crack beneath your hand, lay in bed for a while with your palms pressed over your ears as you adjusted to the pounding of rain against the windows, and finally forced yourself to get up.

It wasn’t until after your shower, when the apartment settled into a semi-quiet hum, that you noticed it.

A ringing, high-pitched and pulsing.

You chalked it up to the alarm or maybe the rain. Sometimes loud sounds near your ears left a residual tone behind. Your hearing was sensitive.

It’d stop soon.

“Let’s go, Kansas!” Jimmy called from his spot by the door.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, grabbed the umbrella you two kept by the door, and headed out with him into the rain.

“Okay, what do you think is going to happen today?” Jimmy asked as you two walked into the café, just like always, picking up the order of coffees and pastries one of the other reporters had preordered.

“What do you mean?” You frowned as you stacked all the boxes of pastries, plus one drink carrier, into your arms.

“There’s always something. Aliens, freaky technology, or magic.” Jimmy shook his head as he held the door open for you, then repeated, “So, what do you think is going to happen today?”

“I don’t want anything like that to happen today,” you answered, offering a quick “thank you” as he opened the Planet’s doors for you.

“Well, no one wants it,” he said, “but it always does. So, which is it?”

You sighed. “…Technology.”

Jimmy frowned as you set the boxes and drink carrier down on the break room table, letting the other workers grab their coffees and donuts.

“Boring,” he declared, placing his hands on his hips. “I bet it’ll be aliens.”

You tried to roll your eyes at him, but the motion tugged at the throbbing in your skull. That ringing, still there. Still constant. Not growing louder, but not fading either.

“You alright?” Jimmy asked, noticing the wince you didn’t mean to let show.

“Yeah. Just… didn’t sleep great,” you muttered, grabbing your own coffee and taking a sip that burned your tongue.

Jimmy hummed skeptically but let it go. He was already halfway across the bullpen, camera slung over his shoulder, trading jabs with Steve Lombard by the copier.

You moved slower than usual. Everything felt slightly off. Conversations blurred together. Phones rang too sharply. Every click of a keyboard grated at your ears.

You rubbed your temples and sat down at your desk, pulling up the files you needed to review before the afternoon meeting.

Interns were rotated between departments each month to get experience writing about a variety of events.

You just really hoped you didn’t get paired with Cat or Steve.

You didn’t think you could handle Cat’s laughter or Steve’s jabs today, and as mean as that felt, it was true.

You didn’t realize everyone had started gathering until Lois patted your shoulder on her way out of the tiny office you two shared.

Perry was already rattling off names by the time you and Lois reached the main bullpen. Jimmy was sulking next to Cat Grant, who was patting his head like he was some sad puppy.

You were confused as to why he looked more distraught than usual, until you remembered the gala coming up.

He’d probably be dragged by the ear to take photos of Cat posing with celebrities for hours on end.

And you’d never felt more sympathetic.

“Lane and Troupe, you're covering the trade summit at the Embassy,” Perry barked.

“Kent, you're with Lombard,” he added, and you blinked.

Steve let out a triumphant whoop and threw an arm around your shoulders, giving you a jostling shake.

“About time we got paired together, Little League!”

“Please don’t call me that—”

“Perfect timing, too. We’re covering the Major League! Tell me, Kansas, who you rooting for?”

“Well, I’ve always liked the New York Gia—”

“Ah, course you did. Lemme guess, your old man told you they were good? Shame they lost the first series.”

You honestly couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or just trashing your team for fun. “Yeah, shame. Good thing the Metropolis Meteors are still in.”

“So you do have taste!” He clapped you hard on the shoulder.

At least now you knew for sure he was being passive-aggressive.

You were about to give him a pointed look when Lois leaned over and muttered, “Remember, he peaks early in the day. He’ll crash by lunchtime.”

“Like a toddler,” you murmured back.

Lombard glanced between the two of you. “What was that?”

“Nothin’.”you said quickly, smiling in that practiced innocence. You needed it, especially if you were working with Steve.

“Good. 'Cause you're gonna need all your energy to keep up. We’ve got player interviews, press box access, pre-game walkthroughs, and if we’re lucky, free hot dogs.”

He grinned like he’d just described paradise.

You blinked. “Wait, we’re actually going to the game? Tonight? That game? It isn’t canceled due to the weather?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, the stadium got an upgrade when it had to be reconstructed. They added retractable roofs. Plus, Perry finally realized I’m the only one around here who knows a pop fly from a foul tip. And you,” he pointed, “get to learn from the best.”

Lois raised a brow with a scoff as she passes the two of you with Troupe by her side. “Oh, please. You’re mentoring now?”

Lombard waggled his eyebrows as he pats your shoulder. “The kids are our future, Lane.”

“I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly. Practically in diapers.”

You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose under your glasses. This was going to be a long day.

From across the bullpen, Jimmy shot you a pitying look as Cat fluffed her hair in a compact mirror while Steve took your wrist and dragged you away.

Mark texted you halfway through the afternoon as Steve was going through a pre-game walkthrough with the head coach.

My Marker: gonna be out of reach for a while. dont worry, ill update you once i get back

You: Be safe, Invinci-Boy.

My Marker: youll regret that when i get back

You: Can’t wait to see you try. But seriously, be safe.

My Marker: yes maam

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile that pulled at your lips despite your increasingly growing headache.

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you take a breath, and get ready to continue to follow and deal with Steve for the rest of your day.

By the time you made it to the stadium proper, the sun was low and casting a gold haze over everything. You didn’t have time to appreciate it, though Steve was already halfway up the tunnel.

A security guard stopped the two of you briefly at the media entrance.

“Press credentials?” the guard asked, skeptical.

Steve confidently whipped his out of his coat pocket and held it up with a grin. “Lombard. Daily Planet. This here’s my intern.”

You handed yours over clumsily, a beat too late. The guard gave you a once-over, then nodded you through.

Instead, you followed him, eyes scanning the stadium, not out of journalistic curiosity this time, but habit. You always looked for exits. Always looking for potential dangers.

But for now, everything was calm. As calm as the rapidly filling stands could be.

No collapsing beams. No explosions. No sounds of gunfire that had gotten way to common.

Just Steve Lombard yelling over his shoulder, “You taking notes or sightseeing?”

You caught up to him, notebook in hand and headache pulsing behind your eyes like a low drumbeat.

“Both,” you said. “I multitask.”

By the time you made it to where Steve was leading you, your feet ached and the fluorescent lighting overhead was starting to feel more like a personal attack.

Steve, however, was thriving.

“This,” he announced grandly, spreading his arms as you stepped into field, “is where the magic happens. The adrenaline, the atmosphere, the smell of the grass, it’s electric!”

“It’s AstroTurf,” you deadpanned.

He either didn’t hear you or chose to ignore it. “C’mon, Little League, we’ve got a few interviews lined up. The catcher’s a rookie: cute, polite, probably terrified of cameras. Should be easy.”

You followed him to the dugout, scribbling notes in your pocket-sized notepad more to keep your hands busy than anything else.

The first interview went smoothly enough. The rookie was nervous, as expected, and Steve was surprisingly professional when the recorder was on. You didn’t quite know what to make of that.

But as the sun dipped lower and the pre-game music started blaring through the stadium speakers, a flicker of something strange caught your attention.

The jumbotron glitched.

Just for a second. Barely long enough to register. A flicker of static, a brief distortion in the logo display, and then, normal again.

You frowned, brows pulling together behind your glasses.

“Problem?” Steve asked, glancing up.

You shook your head. “No… Just thought I saw something.”

“Probably heat shimmer. Happens all the time.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

It was your headache. You didn’t get them often, if at all. That’s all that was.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The second day was worse.

You’d gotten no sleep, thanks to the unyielding headache and that ever-present ringing you just couldn’t tune out.

The rain still persisted, maybe even harder than the day before.

At least you had the day off. You should’ve been curled up in the dark, headphones on, trying to soothe the hurt.

But it seemed like everyone who didn’t need help yesterday suddenly needed help today.

You were running purely on the most caffeinated drinks you could find at the corner store, downing them in quick succession in the hopes of pushing past your annoyingly strong resistance to, well, anything.

Since morning, you’d been zipping across the city in the rain, helping out where you could. Lending a hand here. Lifting something heavy there.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Momma! Momma!”

That’s what your ears picked up just as you were finishing your second energy drink in five minutes.

You didn’t hesitate. Suit on in an instant, you abandoned the half-full can on the corner store counter and flew toward the voice.

It was a little boy, standing on the corner of a busy street in the pouring rain. Swallowed in a bright green frog rain jacket.

“Hello,” you greeted softly as you landed and knelt down on the wet pavement, smiling despite the chill. You held out your hand. “I’m Superwoman.”

“Ryan,” the boy sniffled, shaking your hand before clinging to it. “I can’t find my momma.”

“I think I know where she is,” you told him gently, tuning your hearing outward, just in time to catch the panicked cries of a woman calling for her son. “C’mon. Let’s go find her.”

With your back slightly bent so you could keep hold of his tiny hand, the two of you walked slowly through the rain. Down the street. A few blocks over.

Until a woman spotted you.

She broke into a run, calling Ryan’s name before scooping him into her arms. He held her tightly, frog hood slipping back, his face pressed into her neck.

The mother looked at you through tears, mouthing a breathless, "Thank you," before hugging him close and turning to join someone who was waiting at the corner, arms open wide for both of them.

You gave a small wave, your smile faltering just slightly as the pounding in your skull resumed its rhythm, louder now. Agitated. Almost like it was angry that you’d dared to focus on something else.

You used the moment to just breathe. The air was cool thanks to the rain, and you tried to let it anchor you, tried to decompress.

Until you heard gunshots.

Followed by screaming.

Your body reacted before your brain finished registering. Adrenaline pushed the tiredness back. Muscles coiled tight. You launched off the pavement and into the air, heading toward the chaos.

You flew past police cruisers stuck in traffic, sirens wailing uselessly in the gridlock. No one would get there in time but you.

The sound was coming from a tech store, sleek and unassuming, all glass walls for display and chrome signage. Or what had been glass walls. One was now shattered completely, jagged edges glinting in the rain as you landed softly, boots crunching on the broken shards.

The inside was a mess of toppled displays and terrified civilians pressed against walls. And four men, armed and armored, stood in the center, guns raised.

They turned toward you the second your shadow fell through the opening.

No warning. No shout. Just open fire.

Bullets tore through the air, lighting up the dim space like strobes. You didn’t flinch as they hit, sharp cracks against your suit, slamming into your chest and shoulders with enough force to pierce most things.

You didn’t fall. You didn’t even sway.

Because you were bulletproof.

And more importantly, everyone else wasn’t.

You stood your ground, letting the gunfire ricochet off your body as you stared the men down.

“Guns down,” you said, voice calm but unyielding. “You’re not walking out of here with that.”

One of them swore under his breath, reloading with shaky hands. Another—, the one closest to the counter, grabbed something small and sleek from a display case and shoved it into a duffel.

You narrowed your eyes.

It wasn’t just phones or computers. This place had tech that was too high-end for a street robbery. Had to be something worth all of this. One of the labels on the counter was still visible, the letters glowing faintly under the emergency lighting:

NEW! LexTek Interface Module.

You let out a sigh, cause of course it was LexTek.

In the blur of motion that followed, you disarmed the first two before they even registered you’d crossed the space. You crushed the guns in your hands like soda cans, metal groaning under your grip. The third tried to swing a duffel bag like a weapon, but you caught it mid-air and yanked it from his grasp, setting it gently on the ground.

The last man was already bolting for the back exit.

You hesitated, just long enough to turn to the terrified employees and say, “Stay here. You’re safe now. First responders are on their way.”

Then you took off after him.

You zipped around the corner into the alley he’d ducked into and he vanished in a flash of light.

You let out an annoyed sigh, dragging both hands down your face. If it had been any other day, you would’ve caught him. You knew that. But you were tired. Sluggish. Sloppy.

Two out of three meant one was still free to hurt someone else.

You turned skyward and pushed off the pavement, slower than usual. Slower than you liked.

Flying used to feel like weightlessness. Like pure lo freedom.

Right now, it felt like dragging yourself through thick syrup.

You just wanted to go home. Take a hot shower. Put an ice pack on your forehead. Sleep for twelve hours and maybe reassess your entire life.

But the city didn’t care.

A deep, low rumble shook the air. It started in your chest, even while airborne. Then came the sound of earth cracking, jarring, like pavement snapping under pressure.

You groaned softly.

“Of course.”

Turning toward the sound, you zipped off in that direction, crossing city after city. The setting sun bled orange and purple across the horizon as you flew, smearing light across your vision like bruises.

It led you to New York.

And then you saw him.

A man on Liberty Island. Screams echoed from the crowds below, tourists scattering, ferries grinding to reverse as chunks of concrete crumbled away from the main body of the island. Machinery on his wrists sparked with energy, drowning out even his own shouting.

You landed hard enough to crack the ground beneath you.

“Doctor Seismic,” you muttered under your breath.

You frowned, hands planted firmly on your hips.

“I’ve got to give it to you, Lady Liberty is definitely a choice. I mean, I understood the sentiment behind your other attacks, not that I agree,” you added quickly, “but Lady Liberty? Really?”

Doctor Seismic turned toward you, face contorting with both rage and glee. The gauntlets built into his lab coat whirred louder.

“You dare mock the symbol of our nation’s collapse?” he bellowed.

“Buddy, she’s literally a symbol of hope.”

“And yet she stands on the ruins of stolen land and false promises!”

He pointed a fist down, the gauntlet fired, and the pedestal cracked, a fracture crawling up the base of the statue like a lightning bolt. A tremor hit hard enough that you staggered a step before bracing.

Normally, this would be when you snapped back with a quip. Flew at him with confidence. Neutralized the threat in under a minute.

But your head pulsed like it was being split open from the inside.

You shot forward, grabbing one of his arms just as he charged a blast and twisted it upward. The shockwave arced harmlessly into the sky.

“Can we not destroy national landmarks today?” you snapped, ducking a wild swing of his other fist.

“You don’t understand! The earth remembers! The lies we build on top of it must be broken down!”

“Okay, I’m taking these off.”

You hovered in front of him, reaching to grab hold of the gauntlets, intent on crushing and ripping them off.

But you hesitated. Just for a second. You’re not even sure why.

And in that second, he raised his arms.

The gauntlets whirred, and a shockwave of air hit you square in the chest.

It launched you backward like a missile, and suddenly, you were crashing into the harbor.

Water swallowed you whole.

Instead of air reflexively after the air was knocked out of you, you sucked in brine and filth and the cold sting of salt.

You thrashed. Reflexes warred with reason. Your body wanted to cough, your lungs wanted to breathe, and the rest of you just wanted this day to be over.

Panic surged as your limbs moved sluggishly, kicking upward in desperate bursts. Kicking hard, you broke the surface with a loud gasp, sputtering and coughing as you moved to hover just above the waves.

The waves churned around you, chaotic from the aftershock of Seismic’s blast.

You hovered just above the waterline, dripping, shivering.

Soaked hair clung to your face. The pounding in your skull now matched the thudding of your heart.

You took another breath. Forced yourself to steady it.

You’d survived worse.

Didn’t mean this didn’t suck.

A tremor rippled through the air again, vibrating up from the island and echoing through your bones.

You grit your teeth.

Okay. Enough, you’re too tired to deal with all of this for this long.

As you flew, the salt spraying off you as you soared back into the storm-colored sky. You spotted Seismic still on the pedestal, fists raised in a dramatic, utterly ridiculous pose.

You didn’t announce yourself this time.

Just grabbing his arm to pull him off his feet and push him elsewhere, away from Lady Liberty.

He staggered, grunted, and nearly lost his footing. One gauntlet sparked under the force of your grip on him.

“I tried being polite,” you growled, grabbing one of his gauntlets and twisting hard. “But I’m done letting you play demolition derby with American landmarks.”

He tried to raise the other arm, but you grabbed it too crushing it in your grip before he could fire again.

And then you ripped the first one clean off.

He screamed, more in fury than pain, you tried to make sure your frustration didn’t cloud how much force you were using.

“You can yell about historical injustice all you want,” you panted, your voice hoarse from coughing, “but hurting people doesn’t make your point stronger. It just makes you the villain and the loser.”

With one shove into his chest, you knocked him backward, sending him skidding across the cracked platform until he hit the base of the statue with a thud.

Sirens echoed faintly in the distance.

You stood there, soaked, exhausted, and still gasping between each word.

You hovered in place over Doctor Seismic’s crumpled form until you saw the Coast Guard land on the island and rush toward him.

Once you were sure they had him, you shot through the air one more time.

Even your flight home took longer than it should’ve.

A cat in a tree here. A kid running into traffic there.

You couldn’t ignore them. Not even now.

By the time you finally made it back to the city, your still gloomy, rain-soaked city, it was late. The streetlights cast long reflections in puddles. The windows of your building were mostly dark.

Jimmy had to be asleep by now.

You slipped in through the window of your apartment, dripping onto the hardwood floor, and moved on autopilot. You changed quickly, no energy left for a shower, and collapsed onto your bed still damp, the ache in your muscles finally catching up to you.

Tomorrow would be better.

The headache would go away.

The ringing would stop.

And everything would go back to normal.

You told yourself that as you curled in on your side, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the rain against the glass.

No suit. No cape. Just a tired girl in a hoodie, curled up in the dark.

The pillow was cold against your cheek, and for once, you were too tired to feel how tense your body had been all day. Even your breathing slowed, each exhale quiet, measured.

Somewhere down the hall, the apartment heater kicked on with a familiar groan.

Normal.

You closed your eyes.

Sleep didn’t come right away, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

You were done for the night.

And tomorrow you’d be okay.

You had to be.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You shouldn’t have jinxed yourself.

Second night in a row you couldn’t sleep.

You managed short bursts of ten, maybe twenty minutes at a time, before the ringing returned. And around two in the morning, your chest started to feel… off.

It felt like what happens when you overextend a limb. Sore, but in a way you weren’t familiar with. Dizzy too, like you’d gone one too many rounds on the Scrambler at the fair. And short of breath, which, if you were being honest, kind of worried you.

But you chalked it up to paranoia from too little sleep. You couldn’t get hurt. Why would it happen now?

You kept your eyes closed throughout the night, pleading for sleep to take you. You only gave up when Jimmy knocked on your door to let you know he was leaving for work in the morning.

Finally, you trudged out of your bedroom, glared at the gray, rainy city through the living room window, and went to take a shower.

Lights off. Earplugs in. The pounding in your head was too much to deal with the sound of rain and the water at once.

You got dressed sleepily, half-certain you were going to stay home unless an emergency called you out. Everything felt like it was running on autopilot now.

You shuffled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, hoping for an energy drink you vaguely remembered buying yesterday. You grabbed one and turned on your heel to head back into the dark comfort of your room, until you spotted a face in the window.

Tapping.

You nearly dropped the can.

“Oh— goodness, Mark!” you hissed, the shock waking you quickly, rushing across the room to open the window. “Get in here before someone sees you!”

He slipped inside quickly, rainwater dripping from his hair. He gave it a rough shake before running a hand through it to push it back into place.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted with a grin, arms outstretched as he moved in for a hug, soaked to the bone.

“Hello, Mark.” You held out an arm to stop him. “Let’s get you a towel before that.”

“You didn’t miss me?” he pouted, following you, reaching toward you again, like he wanted to get you soaked too.

“Of course I missed you. But you scared the living daylights out of me, and you’re dripping.” You tossed a towel at him after pulling one from the hallway closet.

“You okay?” he asked as he ruffled the towel through his hair. “You look pale.”

“It’s been raining for, like, a week straight. Everyone’s paler,” you said, waving off the concern as you walked into your bedroom.

You grabbed a set of old, comfortable clothes, an old oversized Smallville High tee and sweats, and brought them back for him.

Mark frowned at you, but took the clothes and changed in the bathroom without a word.

While he did that, you scavenged through the cupboards, eventually sliding a toaster pastry into the toaster. And you heard him before you felt him, Mark had never been particularly subtle. Or quiet.

His arms wrapped around your waist as you stared at the toaster. His face pressed into the side of your neck, nose cold from the rain. You could feel the soft movement of his lips against your skin as he murmured, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you said softly, tilting your head to rest it against his. “Everything go well?”

He didn’t respond right away. From what you could feel, and glimpse in the corner of your eye, he just tilted his head a little.

“Mhm…” he hummed, seemingly absentminded. “Empty ship in Mercury’s orbit. Cecil sent me to clear it and bring it back.”

You frowned slightly. “That sounds… ominous.”

“Wasn’t,” he said, voice muffled into your shoulder. “Just empty. Nothing to report.” He shifted slightly and added with a quieter, gentler voice.

You snorted, brushing your fingers lightly along his forearm where it wrapped around you.

The toaster popped.

You didn’t move to grab it right away.

Instead, you stayed there in the silence of your kitchen. The soft hum of the fridge. The rain tapping steadily at the windows. Mark’s breathing warming your shoulder.

For the first time in hours, maybe days, you weren’t working or chasing after disasters.

You just stood still.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, barely above a whisper now.

You thought about lying.

You considered the usual I’m fine or Just tired.

But it was Mark.

And your whole body still ached like your bones were made of lead.

“I’ve had a headache for two days straight,” you said finally, your voice quiet. “I can’t sleep, so I’m dead tired. My chest hurts. And… I just feel off.”

Mark straightened behind you, his hands tightening slightly.

“Did you get hurt?”

You shook your head. “Can’t get hurt, remember? It’s probably just the no-sleep thing.”

You reached out and plucked the pastry from the toaster, forcing yourself to take a bite, even though it suddenly felt too dry, too heavy in your mouth. You struggled to swallow it down.

“Insomnia?” Mark asked gently, his thumb rubbing slow circles into your side through your shirt.

“No,” you muttered, shaking your head as you reached down to cover his hands with yours. “I’ve been hearing this— huh…”

You paused.

Because as soon as you tried to explain it, you noticed.

“What?” Mark asked, concern creeping into his voice.

“I don’t hear it anymore. It was like a ringing. That’s what kept me up. But now it’s just… gone.”

“That’s good, right?” He rested his chin lightly on your shoulder, as he starts swaying the two of you side to side.

“Very.” You smiled a little, reaching up to cup his face and pull him close, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. You whispered, “Now, as much as I’d love to catch up, I’m ready to knock out for, like, forty-six hours.”

“But I just got back,” Mark groaned, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in until there was barely an inch of space left between you. “I just got here.”

“I know,” you murmured as he nuzzled his cold nose into your neck again. “But I really need to sleep off this monstrous headache while I can.”

He hummed dramatically against your skin. “What if I make it better by being here?”

“That’s not how migraines work,” you said dryly, but you didn’t pull away.

He grinned and kissed your neck once, then again, slower this time. His hands slipped beneath your shirt, cool fingers brushing over the skin at your waist before sliding higher.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Seriously?”

“Missed you,” he murmured, voice low and sweet. “And you’re warm. Let me have this.”

His hands traveled up your sides, fingertips trailing lightly over your ribs. You leaned into the touch at first, just grateful for the closeness, the quiet comfort of having him home.

Then, as he gave you a gentle squeeze—

You flinched.

A sharp intake of breath. Your whole body recoiled before you could stop it.

Mark froze instantly.

“Hey, wait— did I hurt you?” His hands dropped back as his face shifted from teasing to alarm. “I didn’t mean to— I didn’t know you could—“

“No, no, I’m fine,” you said quickly, forcing a short laugh. “Your hands are ice cubes. Go warm up on the couch. I’ll be over in a minute.”

He hesitated, eyes still on you.

You bumped your shoulder lightly into his. “Go.”

Only then did Mark huff and step back, reluctantly heading toward the living room.

You turned away, walking quietly into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you. The lock clicked louder than expected in the silence.

Crossing the room, you flipped on the light and stepped in front of the mirror hanging on the back of your closet door.

You slowly lifted your shirt.

And froze.

“Oh… shoot,” you whispered.

Your eyes went wide.

Spreading across your ribs and stomach, almost your entire torso, was a deep, mottled discoloration. Faint purple shading at the edges, yellow-greenish in the center. A bruise.

A massive one.

You reached out, almost without thinking, and pressed your fingertips gently to the edge of the bruise.

You flinched again.

You felt it.

Not just the pressure, but the ache. A hot, throbbing tenderness beneath the skin. The kind of pain you’d only ever read or heard about. The kind that meant something inside you was wrong.

You dropped your shirt quickly, heart pounding in your ears.

What the hell was happening to you?

You stared at your reflection, trying to calm your breathing. Slow inhales, long exhales. But everything inside you felt scrambled.

You’d been hit harder than that before. Blown through buildings. Crushed under falling debris. You’d walked away from it all without a scratch.

But the gunfire from yesterday… Doc Seismic’s blast…

You hadn’t even thought twice about it. Not really. You’d gotten up. Kept fighting. And now—

Now your body felt like it should belong to someone else.

You moved toward the bed and sat down slowly on the edge, elbows on your knees, hands trembling in your lap.

It wasn’t just the headache. Or the ringing. Or the dizziness.

You were hurt.

And for the first time in your life… you didn’t know what that meant.

From the other room, you heard the rustling of fabric. Mark’s voice, muffled, talking to himself as he turned on the TV.

You thought about calling him in.

You thought about telling him.

But instead, you sat there in silence, staring down at your hands.

You needed a minute.

Just one.

TAG LIST: @mightymeick , @dandelion-delusion

#softer than steel #kryptonian reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #invincible x reader #invincible x you

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mrsudakuwilliams99 · 2 days ago

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mmmmm I never said it wasn’t okay that riri was bisexual seeing as IM a bisexual woman myself…a lot of people hc her as bisexual, and some do it as her being a lesbian, but I never said it was WRONG that she was bisexual so let’s not reach for that one mama! and yes if Natalie was alive I would still find it weird that he has a crush on his little sisters friend… and yes i thinks it’s weirder because she’s dead now. that man just looks so much older than the girls and that tension felt weird and out of place to me…but once again…this is MY opinion so…if YEW🫵🏾 don’t like it…there’s the door…🚪

AND ANOTHER THING- i am NAWT liking this whole xavier and riri storyline they giving us…that girl is GAY! And not only do i hate it because eww boys, but i also think it’s weird to have a crush on your DEAD LITTLE SISTERS BEST FRIEND😬

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 21 hours ago

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The Face I Always Find

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Warnings: Immortality, past life themes, obsession masked as love, emotional tension, photo evidence of reincarnation, reader discovering truth, heavy atmosphere, implied past violence, ambiguous ending

Author's Note: This is slow and semi climatic, like a gothic love story dipped in ghost stories and time-bending devotion. Enjoy✨

Summary: You find a photo album buried in Simon’s attic. Inside, a century of lovers who all look just like you. But the truth? It’s far deeper than a coincidence—and you’ve lived this before.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The attic smelled like cedarwood, old leather, and the kind of dust that only comes with untouched years.

You hadn’t meant to find it. You were looking for extra blankets. Something normal, something human. Instead, the loose floorboard groaned under your foot, revealing a shallow crawlspace tucked behind an old trunk. A heavy box inside it, buried under decades of time.

Simon had said nothing about this part of the house. Then again, Simon didn’t say much.

The box was weighty. Brass corners, reinforced like something from wartime. Your fingers trembled as they undid the latches, the hinges shrieking like something waking up.

Inside were photo albums.

Beautiful, hand-bound leather, some fraying at the edges. You picked one up—thin and delicate. Your name wasn’t on it, but something told you it belonged to you anyway.

You opened it.

Black-and-white first. Women in corseted dresses. High collars. Parasols. Then sepia tones, flapper dresses, cropped curls. Swing dresses in the 40s, bell bottoms in the 70s. Jean jackets in the 90s. All of them—

You froze.

Your hands stopped moving. Your eyes couldn’t.

They all looked like you.

Some had softer chins. Some darker skin, brighter eyes, longer lashes. But the resemblance was undeniable. Uncanny. Faces that could be yours in a mirror if the lighting was just off. Familiar mouths. That same tiny scar you’d had since childhood—identical on the collarbone of a girl in a Polaroid dated 1982.

And standing beside each of them—

Simon.

Unaged. His jaw the same. The same eyes, a little sadder in some photos. Smiling in exactly three. Always in black or muted colors. Always staring only at her. At you.

A photo fell out between the pages. A tintype.

The edges were worn, like it had been handled a thousand times. Victorian-era, maybe older. A woman in mourning black. You again. Her mouth unsmiling, but her eyes held heat. Next to her—Simon. Younger. His hair longer, curled at the nape. No mask. Just that same damn stare.

You turned the photo over.

One line, written in deep, etched strokes.

The face I always find.

You barely heard the door close downstairs.

“Love?” his voice called out.

You didn’t answer.

Boots on the steps. Slow. Heavy.

“Didn’t mean to leave the attic unlocked.”

You stared at the albums. There were seven in total. You’d barely gone through one.

Simon stood at the top of the steps. No mask tonight. Just him. Just his face. Older than the photo, younger than the time it carried. Eyes like dusk. Or maybe graves.

“How long?” you asked.

He sighed.

“A long time.”

You swallowed. “What am I?”

He took a step closer. “You’re… you.”

“That one?” You held up the photo. “She looks exactly like me.”

“You were her.”

Your pulse stuttered.

Simon moved slow, like you were a deer with a rifle trained on you. “Every life, I find you again. Not always at the right time. Sometimes too late. Sometimes you don’t remember anything. Sometimes it takes years.”

“You’ve been following me?”

“I’ve been waiting,” he said. “You came to me first. In a war. When I was still human.”

“You’re not now?”

A pause.

“No.”

You tried to remember. Something buried deep, deeper than dreams. A melody. A red scarf. A name that tasted like smoke. You blinked, and for a moment, the world flickered. A memory? A vision? You couldn't hold onto it long enough to know.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Simon sat on the floor beside you. Close enough to touch, but didn’t. He looked tired. The kind of tired that outlives lifetimes.

“Because every time I do,” he whispered, “you run. You forget me harder.”

You stared at the photo again. Her lips looked like yours. The curve of her cheek. The fury in her eyes.

“What happened to her?” you asked.

Simon closed his eyes. “You died. I didn’t.”

“How?”

His voice went quiet. “War. Fire. You tried to protect me. Or maybe I tried to protect you. I can’t remember that part clearly anymore.”

You breathed out through your nose. It didn’t feel real. None of this did. And yet the albums were real. The pictures. The scrawled messages. The dates. The face. Your face.

“Is this why you don’t sleep?”

Simon smiled, and it broke something in you. “I sleep. Just never well.”

You turned toward him slowly. “What happens now?”

“That’s your choice.”

A flicker again—this time, not a memory, but a feeling. That first time he kissed you. Months ago. That heat in your chest. Not new. Not even close.

The part that scared you most wasn’t the past.

It was how much your heart already knew it was true.

“Promise me something,” you said.

He waited.

“If I don’t remember... don’t try to force it.”

“I’ve never tried,” he said. “I just keep hoping.”

The album slipped from your lap. You crawled closer. His shoulders tensed like he expected you to bolt.

Instead, you laid your hand over his chest. Right above where his heart used to beat. Maybe still did.

“I don’t know who I was,” you whispered. “But I want to know who I am now. With you.”

Simon looked up. There was a storm in his gaze. Grief. Relief. Something endless.

And maybe love.

Maybe it always had been.

You leaned forward. He met you halfway.

And in that kiss, for one split second—

You remembered.

The battlefield. The blood. His hands over yours. The promise whispered in your dying breath.

“Find me.”

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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massiv3tr33p3rsona · 1 day ago

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Sweet II You | Terry Richmond X Toni (Black Fem OC)

Sweet Series Finale.

Sweet (Part I)

Pairing: Terry Richmond (Rebel Ridge) X Stonia ‘Toni’/‘Sweet Tooth’ Vikes/Gillian Scott (Woman In GIF: Gina Torres)

Summary: After getting caught red handed and reprimanded over it, Toni is patiently waiting to be taking away as she spends the last days of protected freedom around Terry, which turns into something more than she was expecting.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ (MINORS DNI!), age gap (older woman, younger man), oral (f receiving (facefuck), m receiving), fingering, mastrubating, handjob, titty sucking/playing, choking, subToni!, domTerry!, use of toy (m and f), slapping, slight worshipping, slight BDSM, angst, aftercare, emotional feelings, death, violence/attempted assault, cursing

Dividers Made By: @thecutestgrotto

A/N I: I may have went a little too far and it’s all thanks to it being that time of the month. (At the time).

THIS IS MY WORK, SO PLEASE DO NOT STEAL IT.

Toni was laying on the bed, drunk as hell as Terry stood in front of her, being caught in the act of breaking the rule of not drinking.

“Yeah. Where did you go?” he asked, his voice a bit scary.

“Sat out…watching. The moon.” as she feels her heart beating fast, watching him kneel on the bed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s very…very pretty.” as she looks over, trying to figure out how to get away from him.

“You didn’t have anything else with you?” as he crossed his arms, watching her move tightly into a position where her knees are to her chest.

“N..no.”

Terry laughs darkly as he got up, walking around to her bedside slowly, keeping his eyes on her.

“You sure? Cause I’m getting the feeling you’re not telling the truth, Stonia.”

“I am.”

“You’re not. And you know you’re not because you cant even look at me.” as his kneels in front of her, watching her turn her head away.

“It’s late. I wa..want to rest.” she mumbles.

He leans in, being a few feet away from her face as he inhales her scent, making her close her eyes tightly.

“What did you drink out there?” as he leans on his arm, watching her scramble a bit.

“I didn’t drink.”

“You did. I can smell the white peach and hazelnut on you, mixed in with that strong scent alcohol of any type has. You’re not fooling me here.”

“Fuck you.” she whispered, laying her head against the headboard, hearing him ‘Oh’ in a mocking way as he stood up, walking around.

“And you got the nerve to be an ass to me as if you didn’t just get yourself sent back to jail for the rest of your life?” he asked loudly, laughing a bit.

“Or maybe this is just your sweet side I’m seeing. And I’m the dummy here for not seeing it.” he added, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Terrance.” she said quietly, feeling her head hurting but her body getting still.

“The scents I’m smelling is just your perfume, your dress that fits very nicely on all the curves, your smile, your hair…..this is just a Sweet Tooth sale, isn’t it?” he asked, looking at her.

“I can see it. You been teasing it for the last few weeks, helping you with your hobby and what I thought was your road recovery I just happened to fall for because you know since I’m a man, I’m gonna like it.”

Toni feels tears forming, hating this tormenting as Terry got up, walking up to her, leaning in again.

“Look at me.” he said, his breath blowing against her.

“I’m not gonna ask you again.” he added, placing his hand behind his back.

Toni obliges, looking up at him with tears falling, just feeling very embarrassed by all of this.

“Good girl.” he whispered, wiping away the tears before grabbing her arm and dragging her to the middle, positioning her forward.

He steps back, smiling devilishly as he pushes his bugle into her view, watching her look away.

“Look back before I do it myself.”

She followed, looking at it, hearing him say ‘mm’.

“Good. Now let me help you complete that sale, Vikes.”

He grabs the front of his belt, unbuckling it before removing it, his pants loose now.

He put his hand on top of her head, bring it forward.

However, he doesn’t unzip his pants and pull his aching member out like she was expecting him to.

Pulling his other hand from his back, he held a breath analyzer, pushing it between her lips as she jerks back, caught off guard.

He turns it on as he kneels down, now eye to eye with her.

“Blow into it. You might be telling the truth. If you’re at 0.00, I’ll let it go. If not…you strike out.” he said.

Terry got back up, positioning it upwards to his bulge, making it look like she was blowing him off.

Toni held back tears as she blew into it, hearing beeping a few times before Terry pushed her head back, letting her go.

She wipes her tears as he looks at it, watching it buffer.

A beep sound is made, making him huff in amazement.

“Sweet Tooth hits a .20….” as he flips it, showing her the result.

Toni looks down, not wanting to see it. Just giving up as he kneels, being very close into her space.

“O’Blacc is gonna love this when I call him in a few days. So cherish these memories as much as you can.” he said, eyeing her down.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. Not even being slick.

Terry believes he finally broke her, making himself laugh.

“You awfully quiet for someone who usually talks sh—“ was the last thing he begins saying.

Unexpectedly, he receives a hard slap against his face, making him grab it. He feels the breath analyzer being snatched out of his hand, making him look up.

Toni runs to the window, holding it, which infuriated him even more.

“Stonia…..give it back.” he demanded, walking slowly to her.

She scoffs, waving it in his face.

“You want this?” she asked, acting innocent before hiccuping.

“Don’t make me ask you again or you’re not gonna like the way I take it back.” he utters, anger in his tone.

Toni laughs bewilderedly as she opens the window, holding it out.

“You know, Terrance…..as much as you think I’m not en…joying this like you are…I actually am.” she said, keeping herself from falling.

“I know going this way was a big..big mistake. But..I knew you had something I was looking fo..for that you keep hidey. Why?”

“Get away from the window.” as he’s a few inches close.

“Actually…I won’t. Is because you’re afraid of breaking me? Cause you’re wrong.”

She begins lower her hand, making him pause, hoping he can bring her back.

“Toni, please do—“

“Don’t what? Ruinit? Makeit worse? Like you didn’t start with the teasing? Thought you were a real man, but you a little bitch!” she yells.

Terry’s eyes widen, shocked that she is saying all this while drunk and almost close to meeting her demise.

“Come around me, touchy and sweet because you want control, but you’re losing. And that’s okay with me!”

“I’ll let this go.” he utters.

She looks at him, bringing her arm in a bit, seeing him exhale.

“It is my fault. And I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job and…just seems like you don’t want to follow because that’s all you knew: breaking the rules. But….”

He sighs, rubbing his face.

“I did start falling for you.” he admitted, watching her relax.

“I didn’t know if I was gonna make it weird because I’m supposed to be protecting you, but we also have a large age gap. Then, I started thinking….you’re what I’m looking for. Outside and inside.” he added, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Making me catch blue balls any time I’m around you.” he said, smiling a bit.

“But the point is….. if you give me back the breath analyzer, I will pretend none of this occurred. I swear on it.” he said, holding his hand out.

Toni looks at his hand, thinking about it as she brings the analyzer in. She looks at it, before look at him, a stoic expression.

“Well. That’s one hell of adm…admission.” as she begins to slowly hand it over.

Terry was happy that she was listening, almost grabbing it.

Until she snatched it back, shocking him.

“But I’m also not dumb. And know your wa..ways.”

“Toni, what the fuck?!” as he tries to get it back, but fails as she nudges him in his stomach, watching him fall.

”You want this so bad?”

She tosses it out of the window, closing and locking it as he gets up, appalled at what she did.

“Go get it. Go be a good little bitch to O’Blacc and the fe…by letting him know I’ll be waiting.” as she crosses her arms, staring him down.

Terry laughs in a heated way, cannot believe she’s really throwing all of it away for her own needs. And to not only cover how pissed he truly is at her, but how much it was turning him on at her boldness.

Which is why when he picked her up and she trued to break out of it, she doesn’t realize that step one of his plan is about to begin.

He sits on the bed, laying her stomach first across his lap as she tries to get up, he holds her down, ignoring her scratching and pushing.

“Terry, what are you—oh!” she begins, but is cut off by him locking her arms against her back tightly, feeling it sting a bit.

“I didn’t want to do this to you. I thought you were at least changing. Finally moving on from all of this.” he said, pushing her skirt up.

She felt the coolness her ass as he looks down, seeing the white thong enhances her already thick cheeks, tracing over them.

“But no. You want to do things your way. And I’m fine with that.” as he pushes her legs open, giving him a view of her heat, which is covered in the soaked fabric.

Terry smirks, amazed she was really enjoying all of that as he gently touches over it, watching it wet up his fingers as he hears her whimper, lets out a groan.

“But don’t think you’re gonna get what you want by walking all over me.” as he stopped, bringing it to his mouth and sucking it off.

“You do taste sweet. I’m impressed.”

She waits quietly, not sure what he was gonna do next as he removed his hand.

Smack.

Across her left cheek, making her gasp loudly.

He laughs in a dark way as he delivers another one, but to her right one, watching her jump.

“But it’s not gonna get you out of your punishment. So take it like a good woman and be quiet. Unless you want this to go on much longer.” he said, letting go of her arms, moving to hold down her waist.

He resumes, giving the second one, watching them recoil as they begin to turn red.

He delivers the third and fourth ones, seeing her move her head, but not make a sound. Her arms are still in position, despite not holding them.

He zooms into the fifth, sixth, and seventh ones, watching her body slowly begin to shake a bit and she squeezes her hands tight, wanting to drool over the reaction.

“You’re doing good, Toni. Just a few more and you’ll be done.” he said, rubbing them a bit.

She nods her head, wanting to say something but can’t as he delivers the eighth and ninth smacks, feeling her release growing close.

Finally, he delivers one final smack to both cheeks, gently massaging them. Then, he grabs her fully soaked thong, pulling it down and placing in his pocket as he lifts her up, placing her on her knees.

He examines her face, in which he can tell that she was crying, looking very red around her eyes. Her mouth was dry.

Yet, she was dazed. Hungry for more.

But, he doesn’t say anything, getting up and going to the door, unlocking it. He opens it, looking back at her, before walking out, closing the door behind him.

Toni exhales loudly, feeling very exhausted but very unfulfilled with her needs, shocked that he would leave her like this.

Well, not really, but still.

She lays against the bed, looking up at the ceiling. She pulls up her skirt and opens her legs, exposing her drenched lips, yearning to be touched that she can’t ignore.

She traces over her clit, beginning to rub it at a fast pace, letting out soft moans.

She didn’t care about him hearing her. She just wanted to release so badly since she was close during that position.

She closes her eyes as she begins to pant hard, feeling her self clenching around nothing, which was a sign that she was very close.

“Fuck…..” she whispered loudly, her body growing hotter.

She rubs faster, feeling her essence pour a bit as she massages one of her breasts, moaning.

Finally, after a few more rubs, she came hard, inhaling and exhaling loudly as her hips move, feeling many different things wash over her.

She lifts up her hand, seeing how sticky and wet she was down there, in awe.

Then, she begins to cry, letting everything out at once or else, she’ll be annoyed if she didn’t.

She’s hurting, but she’s preparing herself to be in an orange jumpsuit for the rest of her life.

For the next two days, she avoids him as if he was the plague.

Whenever she was reading a book, she read it in her room now or a different area in the house if he walked in.

She paints outside instead of indoors now, feeling his presence become a distraction.

Each time he walked into an area she was in, she went somewhere else.

She doesn’t even eat the same time he does anymore, usually later after he goes to bed

He hasn’t done his inspections since that night, which she found odd, but didn’t care as the less she saw him, the more peace she had. Wasn’t like he was gonna give her a meaningful conversation about what he admitted to.

Probably would’ve called her a ‘drunk’ if she asked, which is why she let it go.

Sometimes, she sleeps in, just wanting to be alone with herself and her mind as she counts down the hours she has left until she arrives back to prison. She packed some of her things, she believes they’re going to auction off since she won’t be around to care for them.

All these things she has in motion were just many signs of defeat, she thought.

Alcohol once again being her downfall once things started getting good again. And she hated herself a lot for that.

She was causally doing her hair at her vanity when she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.” she said flatly.

The door opens, with Terry appearing from behind.

He looked sweaty, but also sleepy, as if he hasn’t slept since that night. His hair has grown a bit, but his face was shaved nicely. He’s wearing a black tank top and sweats, holding a towel, which tells her he just got done working out.

But she didn’t care, resuming curling her hair as he looked at her, a fixation on his face.

“Can I help you, Terry?” she asked, annoyance in her voice.

“Or are you just gonna stand there, all goggly eyed as I do my hair?” she added, looking at him through the mirror.

He sucked his teeth, wanting to say something really harsh, but doesn’t as he relaxed his face.

“Make sure you’re at dinner tonight.” he said, wiping his face.

“I’m fine with eating after you’re done.” she replied, letting the curl fall off her curling iron.

“It’s an order. Not an after thought.”

“I want to talk before you go.” he added, watching her pause.

She turns off her iron before placing it on a towel lying on the counter, turning to him.

“What’s there to talk about? You made your bed and so did I. Nothing you say is gonna make it better.” she said, watching him tense up.

“Just be there. I’m not doing this with you. And I’m not playing.” he replied, laying the towel on his shoulder.

He walks out, closing the door behind him, leaving Toni irritated. She turns around, resumes doing her hair.

“Asshole.” she whispered.

A few hours later, the two are eating on the lower part of the house.

Donning a black sleeveless dress with a deep cut on her chest and lower left side, matching pearl earrings and necklace, black heels, and glammed up with layered curls, she’s eating off her plate as Terry, sitting across from her, watches, slightly eating.

Wearing a black dress shirt, black dress pants, black dress shoes, and a watch, he matches her entire look, putting it together after finishing dinner.

“Toni…I just wanted to say that I enjoyed our time together during these last few months.” he said, making her look up at him.

She leans back, chewing with a distasteful look towards him as he clears his throat, not fazed by it.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted it to be, but just know, I hold no hard feel—“ he began.

“Feelings? You’re calling teasing me with your words, sneak glares, directing orders, and touching me, let alone spanki—“ as she cuts him off.

“Stonia, please stop.”

“No, I don’t think I will!” as she yelled, tossing her utensils on the table.

“Don’t think you can just apologize and be sympathetic while I live my last few days of freedom because quite frankly, I don’t give a damn to hear and believe anything that to you say to me. Cause I won’t feel nothing.” she said in an angry tone.

“Confessing your little crush while I was drunk didn’t help, so why I believe that you feel so damn bad for me?” she added, staring him down.

Terry looks down, stretches his jaw as Toni tosses her napkin on the table.

“Especially for no damn ex-Marine that thinks he can discipline me in many different ways since he got it.” as she gets up, about to leave.

Terry stands up quickly, walking around the table as Toni watches, backing up as he stands in front, grabbing her arm to prevent her from leaving.

“Sit.” he said tensely.

“Or what? You’re gonna punish me by throwing me over the table and give me 20 ass slaps while I get wet from the overstimulating while you get hard?” she asked as she tries to yank her arm back, but he tightens his grip.

“Something even worse if you don’t do what I say.” he whispered in a discomforting way.

They held each other’s tensive, but longing eyes as he lets go, watching her walk back to her seat and sit, not looking up at him.

He smiles, tracing over her shoulder a bit as he walked past her.

“Good girl.” he whispered, watching her move a bit.

He sits down and resumes eating, watching her refuse to look at him when she turns her head.

“Not hungry?” he asked, tilting his head a bit.

“Needy much?" she asked.

He nods his head, keeping that in mind next time she says it.

“You were always like this?”

“Always like what?” she asked.

“Defensive?”

“Pot calling the kettle black?”

He holds his hands up in surrender, impressed by the response.

“I’m sure ChiChi had fun with that.”

“Never dated him.” she said quickly, watching him stop eating for a bit.

“That was quick.”

“Because you’re not the first one to say that to me. Don’t understand where that assumption came from.”

“Well….. you were the only female associate of Black Brown Godfather.” he said, eyeing her.

“And you assume because of that, I was letting them get a taste of me?”

“I mean…you’re a beautiful woman. I won’t judge.” as he shrugged.

“Mm.” as she sucks her teeth. “And I can tell you did not get laid that much while in the Marines.”

Terry laughs, amazed at how quick she was with her comebacks.

“Who would? We are trained to be cautious.” as he continued eating.

“No, you were trained to obey them.”

“As if you didn’t obey Angél.”

“Obeying and being shown how to sell the product is two different things.”

“And what happens when you don’t meet the sales or attempt to fuck him over?”

Toni stared at him, in disbelief that he’s comparing their two different career paths.

“Well. I’m still here, aren’t I?” as she throws her hands around herself. “So are you.”

“But Angél? Practically raised me. Gave me everything as long as I kept it floating.” she added.

“All for ChiChi to ruin that. You probably hate him right now.” he said, watching her stop moving for a bit.

She looks down, fiddling with her dress as happy memories of her and ChiChi began to play in her head.

From the day they met. Their first assignment together. Her at his wedding and holding his three kids at their births. Him comforting her at Angél’s funeral and post-the news she was chosen as his successor.

Even the day he hugged her tightly, saying *thank you for everything just a few minutes before the Feds raided the place. And him testifying against her, betrayal on his face.

Toni blinks, looking at Terry, who was waiting for her to say something.

She breathes softly, trying to not tear up.

“….I don’t hate ChiChi.” she says.

“He probably was looking at a long time in prison and didn’t wanna die in there. Hence why’s he agreed to cooperate.” she continued, leaning on her hand.

“He has grandkids. Five, last time I checked. He wants to see grow up.” as she smiles a bit.

“I have….well, nothing. By choice. Well, my brothers have kids, but I have no desire to have a relationship with them.”

“How come?” asked Terry.

“Don’t want them going down my path. And they should have a great relationship with their father. Or else you find out too late that they died.” she replied, letting out a painful chuckle.

“If they want to get away, do it with something they love a lot. Not what I did. Maybe I would have a little family right now.” she added, exhaling loud as her eyes become watery.

Terry watches her slowly become emotional, grabbing her napkin to wipe her tears as he leans back, putting his utensils on the table.

“You wanna know why I joined the Marines?” he asked, seeing her look at him.

She shrugs, figured why not since she has nothing else to do but be sad over her new life about to start.

“Mike. My little cousin. Well, we were the same age, but I got him by a few months.” he said, smiling a bit.

“He was always the rebel between us, doing things he shouldn’t be doing. Stealing money. Driving cars. Smoking in the house. Drinking. But I always followed because I found that very funny when he was doing it.” he began, adjusting him seat.

“It was like a way of bonding, since we both grow up as the only cousins around each other. But as we got older, we started going towards…different crowds.”

“Mm.” she whispered quietly.

“He wanted to run with the gangs and skipping school, I stayed on top of my grades and had a few friends. Eventually, senior year of high school was when it all changed. I chose to join the Marines. He chose to drop out and begin selling drugs.” he said, looking at her.

Toni’s face dropped slightly, sensing this story it’s about to take a dark turn.

“Never seen someone’s life go downhill like his did. Came to events drunk off his mind, try to sell us some of whatever he had, even got more aggressive. Don’t know if he was given a hard time during it or what, but that wasn’t the Mike I knew my whole life.” he said inconsolably.

“Eventually, he got into trouble in some little town outside of where we grew up at. Went down to bail him out, only to get treated horribly by the local police department. Turns out, the sheriff was involved with a rival drug dealer and has a history of taking out anyone who was selling on his turf, which Mike was.”

She can tell that he was getting choked up, seeing him look away so the tears don’t start falling.

“Got the bail money just for him to die in jail as he was stabbed. Blame the department for not protecting him or taking away the money, in which they tried to drive me out of town. Had a little standoff with them, which ended with me getting enough evidence to build a case against them. I won….but at what cost?” he continues, sniffling a bit.

“Mike’s not coming back. And I have to live with that for the rest of my life. Which is why I committed to rehabilitating criminals who have a hard time of getting rid of things that they become addicted to. That’s why they asked me to be your bodyguard.” as he looks at Toni.

“Not just to protect, but to help you.” he added.

“……well, thanks for your *lhelp. And I’m sorry about your cousin.” she said in a dull way, not moved by what he told her.

Terry scoffs loudly, annoyed by her response as he got up, staring her down.

“You know. I thought you would feel a bit understanding on why I’m very harsh on you. But turns out, I was wrong.” he said.

“I did. When I was still sweet to you. Now I just see it as a weak attempt of trying to make me feel bad for myself, you, and your cousin.” she uttered in an angry voice.

“You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not my fault he chose that path since I didn’t know him. And let’s be honest: even if he did work under me, you would still have a way to fall for me if I was responsible for his *death. So don’t sent up here and pretend it would be different in an alternate universe.” she replied, matching his stare.

Silence fell upon the room as the sounds of crickets and the lake water played as accompanying background noise.

He rolls his eyes before storming off, walking into the house. Leaving her at the table, she exhales loudly, putting her face into her hands.

Suddenly, a loud branch breaking startles her, making her look around the darkness behind her.

Instantly, she grabs her knife for protection, standing up slowly and while checking around her space.

“Who’s there?” she said, holding up the knife.

A gun cock is heard, with it pointing at her, we making her freeze on the spot.

“Don’t move.” said a muffled voice, with footsteps following.

The man, who was passing by the house continuously on the boat and from the grocery store, comes out.

Dressed in all black and a neck mask that hides the lower half of his brownskin face, his black brows and dark brown eyes give him a very dark presence.

“Drop the knife. Then move towards me.” he said, stopping near the stairs.

She obliges, carefully laying it on the table before taking a few steps towards him.

“Who sent you?” she asked loudly, hearing him cock the gun.

“I didn’t say you can speak.” he replied.

She laughs manically, confusing the man.

“Just curious. Since you been tailgating us for quite some time. And your little gun isn’t that threatening.” she said, stopping in front of him.

“Well, when you decided to snitch on everyone who helped keep your now dead empire running as long as it should’ve, of course a bounty gets placed onto you.” he said, grabbing her arm roughly.

“Let me go!” as she tries to yank her arm back, but he holds the gun to her temple.

“Chauncey is going to be a happy man when he finds out I completed the job. Now come on.” he said, dragging her away.

“My bodyguard is going to be back any mom—“

“That little nigga ain’t doing shit. Probably freeze up when he sees me.”

The man places Toni in front of him, forcing to lead them away, with her constantly turning around.

“But damn. It’s unfortunate he didn’t get a chance to taste you.” he said, gently tracing over her hips.

Her breathing stiffens, growing a little fearful of being out here in the dark, about to die and being touched on by her murderer.

“And you have the nerve to wear this dress? Mm, mm, mm.” as he squeezes her arm, feeling her jump.

“Please stop.” she said, trying to push him away.

The man corners her against a tree real hard, knocking the air out of her. He grabs her hair, forcing her to look up, but she can only feel his hot breath against her head.

“You stop. Before I actually silence you for good and that leaves me with a dead body to play with.”

She gasps, feeling him let go of her hair before stepping back, pushing her arms in front of her.

“Don’t try no funny shit either.” he said, placing the gun next to her left foot.

She closes her eyes tightly, trying to not cry as the man begins to slowly remove his belt, watching her shake a bit.

“Come on, Toni…my bad, Gillian.” he said evilly.

“You should be used to this. Since that how you got the nickname Sweet Tooth. Except you’re gonna use your actual self, not sell me a product.” he said, turning her around aggressively, seeing her chest heaving hard.

As he was about to rip her dress off, she looks up at him, fiery all over her face.

Suddenly, she kicks him very hard in the groin, hearing him yelp loudly and fall. She kicks the gun away before running off, as fast as she could.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Vikes!” he yelled, getting up slowly.

Toni brushes past a lot of trees, praying that she’s going in the right direction of where the house was.

As she sees some light, she runs into something hard cause her fall back.

“Ow.” she whispers, grabbing her head where the pain was brewing at.

“Toni?!” said a familiar male voice, helping her up.

She looks at the man, who was revealed as Terry, hugging him quick and tightly, happy to see him.

“Terry.” she said quietly. looking at his face, tracing over it.

“Thank god you’re alive.” he replied, smiling a bit.

She notices the gun in his hand, snapping her back into why she was running away in the first place.

“The man from that boat and the store took me!” as she points out, getting behind him.

“Figured.” O’Blac and the rest are on their way. Go back to the hou—“ he said.

But before he could finish, a gun shot is heard, making the both of them get to the ground, with Terry shielding her.

“I know you’re out there, Vikes!” the man yells, his heavy footsteps moving quick.

“Go. I got him.” said Terry, getting up and adjusting himself.

“You sure?” she asks.

“Go, Toni!” he yells back, startling her to get up and run.

He looks back at the forest, seeing the man slowly appear as he’s looking around, limping a bit.

“Perfect.” said Terry, sprinting to him.

Toni enters the house, locking the sliding door before running to the kitchen, hiding behind the island on the floor.

She can hear Terry and the man’s loud grunting, both tossing each other either to the ground or into a tree, stomping enough to wake up the rest of the neighborhood.

A police siren and ambulance fills the area, signaling that they are almost to the house as a car pulls into the driveway, which catches her eye.

She runs to the door quickly, opening the door to see O’Blac and the female agent, wearing police gear, getting out.

More cars pull up, with a few officers getting out as the ambulances pull in.

“They’re in the forest, fighting!” yelled Toni, running out, which catches the attention of everyone.

Some officers run to that direction, different types of weapons in their hands.

“Are you okay, Vikes?!” said the female agent, running to her.

“Yeah….no. Fuck, I don’t know. A lot is going on.” she said weakly, watching O’Blac walk over with a blanket, wrapping it around her.

“We’ll get you some medical attention.” said the agent, walking her towards the ambulance.

Suddenly, two gunshots are heard, making everyone pause and look back.

“Sergeant Jones, what was that?” asked O’Blac as he brought the walkie talkie to his mouth.

“Suspect shot dead by Richmond. Had made one shot at him before he got taken out.” replied Jones.

“Is Richmond okay?”

Toni patiently waits for an answer, hoping that Terry is okay and didn’t get killed.

“He is. Just has a cut on his eye and hands. Looking like he fought a damn bear.”

Toni exhales with relief before walking away as O’Blac laughs, nodding his head.

“That’s my guy.” he said.

30 minutes later, the roads are blocked off and the media is attempting to get a closer look, yelling questions at the female agent, who’s answering them one by one.

Terry, now sitting in ambulance, is being patched up as Toni sits next to him, laying on his shoulder.

“Does that hurt?” asked the nurse, sewing the cut on his upper right eye.

Terry shakes his head, gently rubbing on Toni’s leg.

“Are we gonna have to stay in a hotel?” she asks, looking up at him.

“Mm, probably not since it didn’t happen in the house.” he replied.

“Good. I miss my bed.” she said, hearing him laugh quietly.

O’Blac returns with a folder in his hand, holding it open.

“We have a name of the suspect.” he began, seeing Terry take it, reading it slowly.

“Lance ‘Big L’ Huchins. Age 38. And was commonly around Miami. Had many jobs, but he was better known as the secret hitman for Chauncey Quentin. Also known as—“ he added.

“Big Cey.” said Toni, sitting up.

“Angél’s longtime distributor who always hated the idea of a woman being his top associate.” she said, looking at the picture of Big L.

“So you knew, but still choose to rat him out.” said O’Blac, leaning back against the door.

“He threatened to kill my brothers’ wives and daughters. Despite not knowing I even had siblings since I never talked about my family life with anyone but Angél and Ch….” she said, but trails off with the last one.

Realization hits her on how Big Cey was able to find that out.

“About Mr. Morel…we found some stunning evidence that might paint him in a different way that you never saw coming.” as O’Blac hands her another folder.

Toni taking it, beginning to read some of the contents it contained.

“That’s a copy of a phone call that contains a conversation between Morel and Quentin. While you would think Big Cey was the one who put the hit out on you…..it was actually Chino who ordered it.” he said, watching her face drop.

“No.” as she shakes her head, hurt coming out. “This can’t be.”

“He was pissed that you got off easily instead of serving time. Had hopes that he would be able to regain control of the empire as he knew some of our guys personally.”

Toni looks away, very disturbed by this sudden backstabbing move that ChiChi, someone who has always been there for her, pulled on her.

A move that she narrowly missed had her instincts didn’t kick in.

“So why would Cey take the offer then?” asked Terry.

“Morel was always working for him secretly. He was the rat that was giving him info on everything Vikes was doing. Deals, purchases, lovers.”

“Because I wasn’t interested in being his wife and combing the businesses.” she said, closing the folder.

“And do you remember when that happened?” asked O’Blac, taking out a pen and pad.

“Three different times. First time was a month after Angél’s funeral. Second time was February 2007. And the last time was two days before you guys arrested me.” she said, watching him writing it down.

The female agent comes over, greeting Terry with a nod.

“Media’s gone. Already told everyone to finish everything and we’ll just come back in two days. Just so these two can gets a day off from this.” she said, looking at them.

“Fine with me. Cause she just gave me the missing piece to our case.” he said, tucking the pad into his pocket.

“I did?” asked Toni, seeing both of the nod.

“We had suspicion that some of our guys who were present when you got arrested are involved with Big Cey since a lot of witnesses said that Big L was always around them when off duty.”

“A.k.a. they were planning to take you out for a while so Morel can run the place.” said the female agent.

“So what does it mean for her?” asked Terry.

“Well, we have a new case against Morel. And now, we can take out Big Cey and his operations since he was the final piece of the Black Brown Godfather case.”

“It’s now an attempted murder one since she didn’t die nor did you. While we put them on trial to get them put away, you two will have to move again.” she added, looking over to O’Blacc.

��But…..” as O’Blac looks at her.

“Maybe some paperwork between some offices and a little wait time….Toni will no longer have to be in witness protection. She’ll be a free woman, living her life peacefully.” he added, a smile on his face.

Terry smiles, looking over at her, who has no reaction to the good news.

“That’s amazing, isn’t it?” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Toni looks at him, an aggravated but doubtful look on her face. She gets up and walks to the house, not saying anything to him or the agents, which surprises them.

“Damn. Thought she would at least be happy.” said O’Blac.

“She just found out her closest friend was trying to get her out for greed, I wouldn’t be either.” said the female agent.

Terry watches her enter, slamming the door quickly. He sighs, knowing she’s gonna be very upset when he gets in.

After finishing his conversation with O’Blac and the rest, Terry bids them farewell, watching the last ambulance, carrying Big L’s deceased body, drive off.

He enters the house, which is now pitch black, locking the door behind him. He walks towards the living room, but stops as he sees Toni sitting on the steps, crying.

“Hey.” as he walks up, standing in front of her.

She looks up, her eyes very wet and face slightly red from her emotions coming out.

“Go away.” she said, looking away.

“I know you’re hurting, but please don’t start.”

“So let me be then.” as she scoffed. “Don’t know why you’re talking to me anyway.”

“Because I care? Is that a crime?” he asked, agape by her attitude right now.

“Please. You never cared. Just only wanted to get a sexual satisfaction out of it. Surprised they didn’t even mentioned when I’m leaving.”

“Wow. I killed that motherfucker to save your life and you’re still acting like this?” he said, in disbelief.

“Fuck you and your savior shit!” she yelled, standing up.

Silence fills them as she steps closers, steam just rolling off her as she slapped him very hard, surprising him.

“I’m suppose to applaud you for doing your job like you’re suppose to? You’re an ex-Marine, for crying out loud!” she yells.

Terry grabbed his face, the sting brewing slowly across his face.

“You being Captain Save A Ex-Queenpin from getting killed and assaulted is not gonna to make me feel good about being free, despite possibly still leaving, but my friend almost got me killed. Of course I’m not happy!”

He doesn’t say anything, watches her turn and walks up the stairs, heading to her room. She stops, going to the the ledge to looks down at him.

“By the way: does O’Blac know about what you did to me since you’re so hellbent with snitching? Cause if not, I’ll make sure to include that in your review since I know he’s going to ask about how you were.”

She sees his jaw clenching, smiling a bit.

“Your carnality behaving self don’t like that, do you?” she teased, watching him look up immediately.

“If I were you, I would shut the hell up.” he said, hearing her gasp.

“Oh, so that side of Terry Richmond is still inside you.” as she giggled.

“Toni…..I’m telling you to shut it.”

“Or what? You’re gonna use your member arm to fuck my tits this time as a lesson?”

Terry scoffs loudly, holding in his anger as long as he can as Toni watches gleefully, knowing she’s cracking him.

“Yeah. How predictable and routed of you. Have a good night, asshole.”

She walks into her room, slamming the door loud.

Terry looks down, shaking his head as he is plotting his next step, walking back to the kitchen.

Toni was asleep, dressed in a black silk slip nightgown, laying in her bed after finishing her bath and skincare.

A knock on her door wakes her up, making her sigh in annoyance as she got up.

Opening the door, she sees Terry standing there, dressed in a black tank top, black sweatpants, and black socks.

“…..do you know how late it is?” she said, looking at him up and down.

“I need to show you something.” he said, eyeing her down.

“Can’t do it in the morning?”

“No. It’s very important.” as he turns around.

“Follow me.” he added, beginning to walk slowly.

She rolls her eyes, stepping out of her room and closing it.

“Better be worth it.” she said, following him.

They get to his door, where he pushes it open and steps to the side, waiting for her to walk in. She steps in, with him following.

As he closes the door, she takes in his room.

Its very similar to hers, just a little bigger. A Wyoming King size bed, a bigger ceiling fan hanging over it, a four sided window with two ledges, a black sofa and four chairs set, a lot of black dressers, a 75 inch tv hanging on the wall, a massive bathroom with a big closet, and massive mirror covering the wall. All covered with a red lighting.

“So what is it that you have to show me, Richmond?” she asked, looking at him.

He stares her with a rising urge in his eyes, carefully walking over. She watches, feeling the room getting a little more warm.

“..on the bed.” as he leans in, carefully keeping a tight distance.

She looks at him curiously before turning away, walking towards the bed.

As she gets closer, he grabs something off the dresser near the tv, holding it behind his back.

Stopping at the right side, she sees a few unidentifiable objects laying across it, unable to figure out what it is due to the lighting contrasting the color.

“Can you turn the red light off? I can’t see what the hell it is.” she said in annoyance.

“Sure.” he replied enthusiastically, taking a remote out of his pocket and hitting a button, turning it off.

She looks at the items again, all a different color of the rainbow.

Almost similar to her vibrators she has in her room.

Wait.

These are her vibrators.

Confusion shoots into her face as she looks at Terry, who is now standing in front of the bed, a discreet presence flowing off his body.

“What the fuck is this?” she asked angrily.

“Oh. You’re not having fun now?” he asked, a smile forming on his face.

“Stealing people’s shit and presenting it to them is having fun to you?”

“Says the thief who stole wine for fulfillment of her body.” as he moves closer.

Her breath hitched, watching him move into her space, stopping in front of her.

“How often did you think of me pleasuring you when playing with yourself?” as he sits on the bed, tracing over each one.

“Was the yellow one your favorite one you liked? Similar thickness, nice round top, and a curve. Tracing it all over yourself, imagining it was me instead?” as he picked it up, testing the vibrations slowly.

Toni looked away, crossing her arms to shield herself from watching.

“Didn’t say you could look away.”

“I do what I please when my privacy is being violated.” she replied, hearing him laugh.

“If you really cared about privacy, you would’ve made sure I didn’t hear you moaning and cursing after I left you the other night.” he said, getting up.

She looks at him crazily, stumped at his audacity to reveal that while looking at her in a possessive way.

“Not gonna lie. I was a little….*mad that you were playing with yourself without my permission.” he added, looking at her dress.

“Your permission? As if you owe me?” she asked, backing away from him.

“I do.” as he stepped closer.

“And you know that because you enjoy following my orders I give you. You like to break them, but I notice you change your ways after receiving punishment.” he added.

“Cause you kept toying with the idea of sending me away as fast as you wanted.” she replied harshly.

“Well, bad girls need a lesson to be taught, right?”’

She scoffs, turning away to leave but gets pulled back by him, feeling something cold click around her wrists.

As she attempts to pull them apart, she feels that they are chained, realizing he put handcuffs on her.

“Terry, have you lost it?!” she yells, trying to run but gets picked up by him.

He carries her to the bed, tossing her onto her stomach, in which she yelps, as he holds her face down, with his other hand holding her body down.

“No.” he said quietly, pushing her hair out of her face.

As he leans in to move her upwards, she notices his smile has faded, now showing a sensual one. One fill with lust and feral, as if she’s something he won’t let get away.

This was a different side of Terry she has never seen. A side that she seems to be terrified of….while also *enjoying his roughness with her.

But she won’t showing it yet, seeing how far he’ll go.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. And I want you to listen carefully.” as he lays in front of her.

“You’re gonna choose one vibrator you want me to use on you tonight. Whatever color it is will be our safeword and the format I’ll put you through tonight.” he began, tracing over her lips.

“And no talking back.” he stopped, seeing her freeze.

Toni thought about it, not sure if she can stay quiet while he does whatever to her body.

“If that’s what you want.” as he gets up, pulling her up to sit up.

“If not, I can remove your handcuffs and let you go, but you must never mention this to anyone.” he said, kneeling in front of her.

“And the last days you’re here, I’ll leave you alone. For good.”

She blinks softly as he takes out of the key from his pocket, holding it up for to see how serious he’s being.

“So….what’s it going to be?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

He waited patiently, watching her look at the key and look at the vibrators back and forth, focusing hard on her decision she wants to make.

“…P-purple.” she said quietly, watching him turn his head to the side.

“Speak up. I didn’t hear that.” he teased, knowing he heard her just fine.

She sighs, tugging on her cuffs a bit.

“…purple.” she said a bit loud, seeing his mouth twitch.

He stands up, placing the keys on his nightstand before turning back to her. He removes all of the vibrators, except the purple one, off the bed, placing them in a safe spot.

Going back to her, he leans down, placing his hands on each side of her waist as she watches, feeling her chest getting a little tighter with his body luring over her.

He looks at her lips, leaning in as he kisses her gently, biting her lips a bit. She kisses back hungrily, finally getting a taste of him after all that waiting he put her through.

Tugging at his tongue with her own, he grabs her dress, yanking it off swiftly, hearing her whimper at the cool air rubbing her skin.

He breaks the kiss, catching his breath. He looks at her body, rubbing her nipple as she winces at his touch.

“For someone who likes to pick on me for being young….you sure got a nice body for someone your age.” he said, gently slapping her breast, watching it bounce as she moaned.

He resumes kissing her, gently wrapping his hands around her throat and pulling her up to stand straight, her obeying.

“Good girl.” he whispers, tighten his grip.

Toni winces, feeling her stoneface slipping away and her heat become soaked from her essence flowing.

He lets go, removing his clothes all of his clothes except his underwear, tossing it across the room.

She notices his eyes are now a hazel grey color, having a dazed look to them. He leans down, slowly placing kisses all over her breasts, soft moans escaping her throat.

“Feel good, hm?” he asked before taking one into his mouth, sucking it hard.

He watches her face twist up in heat as she nods, enjoying the pleasure he’s giving to her before letting it go, making a POP! sound.

He turns her around, helping her to the bed before positioning her into a face down, ass up pose, tucking a pillow under her head.

He places soft kisses over her ass cheeks, bringing her back to the first time he did that when she got her first strike.

Then, he rips her soaked panties off in one go, surprising her.

“Mm.” he mumbled, looking at her soaked lips clenching around nothing, amazed at how ready she was for him.

He begins removing his clothes, leaving himself in his underwear before sitting down, pulling her a little closer.

He grabs the vibrator, turning it on and it begins to vibrate in his hand, buzzing loud as he sees her flinching.

“No running. And no talking back either or I’ll make it even worse for you.” he stated, adjusting her a bit.

She looks away, biting her lip as she waits for his next move.

Leaning in, wrapping his arm over her waist, he presses it on her clit, hearing her gasp loudly.

“That’s what I want to see.” he said, looking at her essence pouring out slowly.

The buzzing sound and feeling of him slowly moving it around in a circle felt like torture to her. Making her wonder why is he taking his *sweet time with this?

That question doesn’t get answered as he switches it to a higher setting, making her moan loudly, falling over a bit.

SLAP against one of her cheeks, the stinging following.

“Fix yourself before I do.” he whispered lowly, pushing it down a bit.

Toni winces as she fixed her position, panting softly into the sheets. She felt him kissing the spot a few times, soothing it a bit.

He moves it around faster and harder, hearing her whisper expletives under her breath, eyes closed. He feels her stomach tightening in his hand, laughing a bit.

“Already?” he asked in a teasing way, leaning in to see her clenching a few times, seeing she’s close.

She groans, knowing she can’t hold it in much longer. Just as she was close, he pulls away, watching her body go limp, as if he just unplugged her.

She sighs in frustrating, pissed that he took that away just as it was about to happen.

“Upset?” as he leans towards her slightly damped face, staring at him pathetically.

“You’re evil.” she mumbled.

He smirks, kissing her cheek before flipping her onto her back, putting a pillow under her head.

“We’re gonna do that again. Try not to cum fast or without my permission.” as he kneels.

He puts one over his shoulder and holds the other one down, seeing her move a bit.

“All eyes on me.” as he pushes her legs apart a bit.

Grabbing the vibrator again, he set it to an even more higher speed, trace over her clit harshly.

She groans loudly, trying to suppress a moan as he watches her suffer, taking enlightenment in it. Her hips buckled at each tug and swipe, almost like he’s pushing it into her.

“Fuck…” she whispered quietly, biting her lip.

He pushes it up to the highest setting, watching her head fall back as her moans quicken, her body beginning to shake.

“Terry, please.” she begged, feeling her stomach tightening.

Her leg wraps Terry’s shoulder tightly, making him smile at he looks down, seeing her essence leaking out a bit.

“You wanna cum bad, don’t you?” he asked seductively, moving the vibrator around in a harsh motion.

“Please! You’re making it hard for me to ho—fuck!” she began, but is cost off by the intense pressure growing, tears falling out of her eyes.

Terry inhales quietly, enjoying her breaking down like this and they haven’t even fucked yet.

“You can cum now.” he said, looking up.

On cue, her release came, the room now filled with her satisfied cries, her body trembling, legs twitching, and him rocking against her toy. Her essence pours out on the sheets, soaking the bed.

Terry watches with hunger in his eyes, seeing her face going from being all scrunched up to slowly relaxing.

Which is why he tossed the vibrator onto the bed before placing his mouth over her entrance, inserting his tongue in.

Toni gasps shockingly, taken aback by his flickering poking at her flesh as his lips make out with hers.

“Mm.” she moans, enjoying him making a sloppy mess down there, feeling his hand creep up to squeeze her breast.

She wishes she could push his face deeper in it right now, but her hands are restrained under her.

He removes himself from her, making a POP! sound. His face was covered in her essence, his goatee glistening.

“Mm.” he moans greedily, tracing her lips with his fingers, watching her flinch from his touch.

“You taste so sweet. Living up to your nickname really well.” he added, leaning back down.

Carefully inserting two fingers, he plunges them in and out harshly, making her wince at the feeling. He licks her clit a few times, french kissing it.

“Oh my god….” she whispered quietly, feeling another release building up again.

Suddenly, he grabs her by the throat, pulling her into a sit up-slightly squatting position, her pussy hanging off the bed a bit as he added a third finger, getting rough.

“You’re doing so good, keeping up with me.” he whispered, her erotic sounds keeping him focused.

“About to cum…” she replied, feeling his hand tighten around her throat, making her choke a bit.

“You better hold that until I say you could.” he replied, looking at her eye to eye.

Her voice began to tremble as she feels herself getting ready to exploded, gripping around his fingers and her skin burning from the heat all over her.

Just as she was gonna break his order, he pulled away, shoving her down to the bed, making her scream in frustration at him doing that again.

“Don’t be upset. I ain’t forget about the way you treated me the times you got.” he said in a spiteful way.

Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he sucks them off a bit as he makes his way to the opposite side of the bed, where Toni’s head hanged slightly.

“Open.” he said, bringing his fingers to her mouth.

She looks up with exhausted eyes, obliging as she opened her mouth, feeling him insert his fingers.

“Suck.” he ordered.

She slurps them, tasting her sweet essence on her tongue as he watches, getting hard off her lips sucking them.

He removes them immediately, stepping back.

Removing his underwear, his throbbing member popped out, moving a bit over the cold air hitting it.

Toni takes in its look. About 9 inches, lots of girth, large deep pink tip, and veiny like his hands.

Definitely fits Mr. Richmond’s Marine Brat self.

He strokes himself slowly, walking towards her. He moves her body down so her head is on the bed, adjusting the pillow.

“Ever got facefucked?” he asked abruptly, making her look at him surprised.

She didn’t know how to answer that, nor did she know what it felt like. Which made her answer it in a way that is a typical her answer.

“Go fuck yourself.” she replied.

She watches his face crack, his jaw twitch, and his eyes grow a bit dark, sending a shiver down her spine.

She fucked up, did she?

“I knew you were gonna say that. But as a gentleman who respects older women, lemme help you fix that.” he said, slapping one of her breast.

She winces as he climbed over her, lowering himself as he shoved his member down her throat, making her choke loudly. She hears him groaning, moving his hips around a bit.

“All that anger gifted you a nice warm mouth for me to fuck, mm.” he moaned, beginning to move his hips in and out of her mouth, constantly hit her chin to reach a deep point.

Sounds of gagging fills the room as Terry has a hold over Toni’s throat, keeping himself steady as he fuck her mouth aggressively against the bed, her salvia spilling all over her face and chest.

He growls, watching her bounce up and down against the mattress from his force, emoting

“You look prettier like this, you know?” he said, watching her lookup with her running eyes through the mirror, moaning a bit around his member.

“Hm? Can’t talk with your mouth full?” he teased, pulling out of her mouth for a bit.

She coughs a bit, feeling him slap it across her cheek before slamming back in, making her gag loud.

Meanwhile, Toni, despite the mess she was making, was enjoying him using her like this. Looking into the mirror to see her mouth being covered with his lower half frequently, with him holding her down.

His hips began to falter a few times before he slams into her mouth one last time, letting out a few expletives in a weak tone.

She feels something hot shooting down her throat, his member pulsating on her tongue a few times. A salty taste lures in, making her cough a bit as he looks at her through the mirror, a sinister grin on his face.

“Like how I taste?” he asked, pulling out of her carefully, watching her spit connect to him.

Her eyes widen, shocked at him busting down her throat without hesitation and warning as he leaned down, kissing her mouth aggressively before shifting her to her side, facing the mirror now.

As he settles behind her, she takes in her now blushed, sweating look. Her hair clings to some of it, her lips a bit red, and some bruises over her chest and stomach.

Lord, she might not even make it to the next day if he keeps going with his aggressive approach.

He pushes her arms towards his stomach before hooking his arm under her left leg, exposing more of her pussy.

He rubs his tip up and down her slit, watching her essence wet it up as she moans softly, the friction of not cumming the second time burning a bit.

“Look at you. All wet while looking at me with anger. You wanted it like this, did you?” he asked, locking eyes with her.

Toni looks away, tugging at the chain between the cuffs as Terry laughs darkly, inserting all of himself in without hesitation, making her gasp loudly and clench him tightly.

“Easy now.” as he pulled out a little bit, moving his member to stretch her a bit, watching bit her lip.

He pushes back in, moaning a bit at her essence soaking him, creating a perfect balance of energy between them as he begins slamming into her, watching her breasts bounce in his face.

She lets out soft moans, pushing her face into the pillow so that he doesn’t see her confirming his question.

However, Terry wasn’t going for that as he wrapped his hands around her throat, forcing her to look up and watch him pump in and out of her.

“Don’t hide from me.” he mumbled, kissing her face.

“I don’t want you to see me like this!” she replied tensely, whining at his tip brushing her sweet spot.

He laughs, quickening his pace as she moans louder from the pleasure, feeling his hot breath on her cheek.

“They missed out so bad on not fucking you.” he uttered, groaning at his tip hitting a deeper spot in her, a pleasurable expression on her face.

“Missing out on these big ass titties bouncing in front of them.” as he takes one into his mouth, sucking it.

“Keep talking like that, you’re gonna make me cum against your wishes.” she said teasingly, clenching him on purpose.

Terry stops moving, pulling out and giving her a few slaps on her ass, hearing squeal a few times before flipping her onto her stomach, arching her back so her ass is in the air.

“Just for that, you’re not getting it anytime soon.” he said, hearing her groan.

“And Ima make it harder for you to fight it.” as he inserts himself into her again, making her moan.

He begins snapping his hips into her, watching her ass bounce again him, tugging on her cuffs, which slightly lifted.

“Spread that shit open for me.” he whispered, watching her lower her hand to spread her cheeks open, getting a better look of his member pumping in her.

Toni was too caught in the moment, she suddenly felt vibration being applied onto her clit, making her snap her eyes open.

Terry has placed the vibrator, at the strongest setting, against it, having it angled underneath her as he slams in and out of at a fast pace.

“This is too much!” she yells, feeling her walls beginning to tighten again.

“Say the word, Stonia.” he demanded, pushing in deeper, poking at a sweet spot.

He leans down, kisses all over her shoulder tattoo before kissing her lips again, her panting softly brushing his mouth.

“You know you want to.” he added, biting her bottom lip.

She shakes her head, not giving in, which makes him laugh.

“Thought so.” he said, quickening his pace, their skins slapping loud from their sweat.

She, on the other hand, is about to be pushed over, trying her hardest to hold it in as she squeezes her eyes shut.

He moves the vibrator around slowly, watching her twist and unintentionally throw her ass back at him, groaning a bit from her tightness.

“Alright. Cum on me.” he said, tossing the vibrator across the bed before slamming into her harshly, hearing her cries of pleasure pouring out.

“Cumming! Cumming!” she repeated, gasping out loud as the stinging in her stomach began to turn into relief.

Essence flowed out extremely fast as her second release washes over, coating her and him as shocked, flushed sounds panted out.

After a few minutes, he pulled out, grabbing the keys from his nightstand and taking off her handcuffs, rubbing her wrists.

“Come on.” he said, carefully turning her over.

“Please.” as she holds up her hands, pushing him back weakly.

“Give me a few minutes.” she added, laying back against the pillows to catch her breath.

Terry nods, gently rubbing her legs as he lays next to her, examining her body more.

“Might have to wear some coverups for a few days.” as he looks at her breasts, playing with one of them.

“You don’t want people to know I’m yours?” she said teasingly, looking at him.

He smirks at her comment, gently pulling her on top of him as she leaned down to kiss him, hunger taking over her.

They make out for a few minutes, with her kissing and biting his neck, hearing his breath hitch a few times.

She traces his chest, placing kisses all over before kissing him again, climbing on top of him.

As he was enjoying this, he is suddenly interrupted by something cold wrapping around his wrists, restraining them.

He looks up, seeing they are handcuffed to the headboard, making it impossible for him to move or get up.

“You got one minute to get these off of me.” he said, eyeing her down tensely.

“Think it’s my turn to have fun, Terry.” she said, laying back.

“I’m not playing.”

“Thanks for confirming.” she said, laughing with delight.

She gets up, walking around the room to find something as Terry tries to free himself but fails.

“As a retired marine specialist, aren’t you always supposed to have your guard up?” she said, picking up something.

Toni returns to the bed, climbing on before kneeling in front of him while holding something behind her.

“Cats got your tongue?” she asked, raising her brows.

“Yeah. Yours.” he said, watching her movement.

She smirks, slowly wrapping her hand around his aching member to stroke him, watching him freeze a few times.

“You haven’t cum once.” as she leans down, licking his tip.

He lets out a sharp groan, laying his head back.

“I know you’re holding back for me, but you can’t keep it up much longer.” she said, stroking him faster.

Then, she pulls out the item she has hidden.

Her yellow vibrator, making his eyes widen.

“Let me help you with that. Like you did with me.” she said, turning it on and watching it vibrate, grinning at him devilishly.

He tries to move his leg to block her, but she slaps it away hard, making him yell a bit.

“Don’t hide from me. I was sweet to you all session.” she said, moving his member to her.

Terry holds his breath, squeezing his knuckles tightly as she begins to rub the vibrator on his shaft, hearing him moan a bit.

“My god…” he whispered, slightly biting his lips.

“I’m here.” Toni said seductively. laughing as she enjoys watching him like this.

For once, it got switched on him and now he’s a receiver.

She begins quickening her strokes, laying the vibrator against his balls as she strokes the tip, watching him jump up with the restraint.

“You like that, don’t you?” she asked, watching him nod.

“You don’t understand.” he replied, his breathing pitching up.

“Mm.” as she leans down, stroking his member between her breasts.

“Knew you had it in you.” she added, licking the tip again.

“Toni, please.” he uttered pathetically, feeling his release approaching.

She moaned at that, see how weak he has become once in her hold.

“You wanna cum?” she asks teasingly, moving the vibrator up and down slowly.

“Please.” he begged, licking his lips.

“You wanna see me milk this big ass dick of yours?” as she moves her hand tightly around his shaft, massaging the tip.

“Shoot that filthy ass cream all over me after fucking and torturing me like that, big boy?”

He growls loudly, his stomach turning into knots at the intense pressure.

“Probably been jacking off to my cougar ass since the day you met me. Thinking about how I taste and smell once everything is off while stroking this fat ass shaft, huh?” as she tosses the vibrator somewhere, her breasts now fully engulfing his member.

“My god, you’re blessed with a pretty dick.” as she sucked on the tip, making Terry let out a harsh “fuck!” Under his breath.

His member begins to twitch, signaling his release is imminent, making her wince in pleasure.

“Give it to me, Terrence.” as she strokes faster, seeing his face scrunch up.

“Don’t hold back. Let it out.”

Aphrodisiac sounds escaped Terry’s mouth as his release washes over him, his hot cum spurting out and coating Toni’s breasts.

She continued stroking him, seeing more and more of it coat her hands and his legs, enjoying the beautiful sight of making someone cum from a handjob.

After no more came out, she stopped removing her hands as she watches Terry catch his breath, taking in on what happened.

“You have a high sex drive for someone your age.” he said, breathing softly.

“I didn’t fuck that much when I was your age. Would’ve gotten burnt out quickly.” she replied, seeing him smile.

“Wow. You were definitely edging before all of this, weren’t you?” as she looks at her hands and chest.

He nodded, finally looking up.

“You kept pushing it.” he replied.

“Mm.” she said, licking her hands slowly, feeling his face twitching.

“Glad that I got it out of you before I leave.” she said, finishing it.

His face slightly drops, making her look at him confused.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“About that…” he began, sounding a bit embarrassed.

“I uh…never reported you.” he admitted.

Toni looks at him befuddled, replaying what he just said to her in her head, slowly getting upset.

“You…never reported me?!” as she jumps up.

“Toni, I can explain.”

“Well, explain before you lose your manhood, Richmond!” she yelled.

“My god….your mood switches fast.”

She slaps him across the face, watching his head bounce back.

“I’m not fucking playing with you. So, starting talking.”

He exhales, feeling the sting brewing.

“Okay, okay. Even though they gave order that I had to report you if you violated the rules three times, I never did. Would’ve been very easy to send you away quickly.” he began, looking at her.

”You were playing hard to get, especially the first time I caught you. I kept telling myself that “I am her superior” so this would be inappropriate to have a relationship with someone you’re supposed to be protecting.”

She sits down on the bed, her face, relaxing a bit.

“But then, I started having dreams about you. About us doing the nastiest things you can imagine. Me being very much controlled by you and getting punishments if I was disobeying your orders. You cumming so many times….” he said, watching her clench her legs close.

“I knew I had to teach you a lesson if you hit strike three. Just a little taste of what I was gonna do to you. And you fell into it, as expected because you too had those feelings. However, I did not plan the part of that stalker so do not think I was in kahoots with him.” he said, eyeing her down.

“I am sorry for lying to you this way though. I should’ve been upfront instead of letting you believe you were really going back to prison for good. But look on the brightside: you’re about to be able to live your life again.”

“….but you want to be in it.” she said, rubbing her leg.

Silence fills the room as they hold each other’s gaze, anticipating his answer.

“*…..Yes. I do. It will be hard for me to let you go.” he said, somberness in his eyes.

“I want you to stay here. Be with me. Even if I have to earn your trust again.

“You won’t feel embarrassed, dating me?” she asked.

He shakes his head, stretching out his hands.

“I’ll fuck them up if I have to. Nobody comes after my woman.” he stated, making the both of them laugh.

“Speaking of coming….” she said, moving to him.

She stops in front of him again, wrapping her hand around his member once again, watching him flinch.

"I think you owe me a few more.” she said, beginning to stroke him again, hearing his wincing.

“Go slow!” he yelped. “I’m still sore.”

“Yeah? You still gave me 25 spankings, despite my ass burning and bruising from it.” she said, eyeing him down.

Terry smiles slightly, knowing that she’s right.

“Touché.”

Toni smiles, continuing to stroke him once again until his second release of the night comes over, his body shaking and flustered moans filled the room.

“Alright, three more and you’re forgiven.” she said, watching his member pulsate.

Terry lets out a harsh groan, accepting his punishment.

He looks forward to this relationship with Toni for the rest of their lives, excitement filling him up. A relationship with someone who matches his level of freak.

Age is truly just a number.

A/N II: This y’all fault btw. But that concludes the Sweet miniseries! Thank you all for reading and stay tuned for the next releases of my work!

🏷️ : @iloveekeiarah @childishgambinaax @ziayamikaelson @ssamm1984 @turbulentvoids @fadingcherryblossompeach @angryflowerwitch @amethyst09 @motheroffae @cerya @thatitbitch @darkfairymoon @j0ysyndr0m3 @blaqueberryk @theogbadbitch @megamindsecretlair @zillasvilla @kumkaniudaku @that-one-anxious-mango @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @dollys-world224 @blaqueberrykreads

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lia-stxrns · 1 day ago

Text

𝑵𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔

synopsis: Matt and reader work at the same school. Matt as a English teacher and reader as a nurse. Even if he’s an English teacher and she’s a nurse will there be some hidden chemistry? warnings: none

Today is just like any other day at work. A kid comes crying in at 9:40 after trying to do a dumb flip off the cafeteria. Even if he was stupid for attempting that trick, I still wish I could help him further than giving him an ice pack and a call home.

Then at 11:20 two girls looked like they had just gotten into a fight. We gave them some ice packs and they got sent to the principal. At 12:50 it was lunch. The sound of kids flooding the hallways intensified as they all rushed to go to their friends.

I decided to have my lunch too. A Caesar salad and chicken. I was in the middle of eating when I hear a knock on the door. I knew exactly who it was when I opened the door for him. Matt. He is an English teacher for the freshman.

Dressed in a white dress shirt, a red tie, and dark blue jeans. The man looked incredulously hot especially with his shaved beard and his light blue eyes. I realized im gawking at him and clear my throat.

“Something caught your eye, Remedy?” He asked, looking at me, noticing how my eyes ran over his body. “Only the whiteboard marker on your cheek.” I smirk as his face looks panicked.

“Wait what? It’s still there?” He asked. I giggled “yes.” He looked in the mirror above the sink. “How did that even happen?” I ask, snickering from behind my hand as he splashed water onto his face.

“I was writing down something for my students in third period. When Jada dropped her lipstick and it rolled under my foot. I slipped and collided into the white board.” He explained. The explanation only makes me laugh more.

“So, you’re telling me you slipped and fell over a lipstick like a cartoon character?” I snicker. He wipes his face on a dry towel.

“Shut up.” “How very rude of you, Mr. Sturniolo.” “I like the sound of my last name in that pretty little mouth.”

He puts his finger under my chin and lifts my head up. “You know it’s considered rude to touch a woman without her consent, Mr. Sturniolo.” He backed me up. I was cornered by his body and the counter. “I know full well you like this, Remedy.” He whispered in my ear. My breath hitched.

Then another nurse walked in, Ellie, she hates me for no reason. “This is disgusting. Especially in a school setting.” Matt breaks apart from me with a sigh. “I guess I’ll see you around, Remedy.” he says then leaves.

“Ellie what was that?” I asked, annoyed she interrupted our moment. “That was very inappropriate. You’re lucky I don’t report that to the boss.” She glares at me. “It wasn’t even that bad. We didn’t even do anything.” I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.” I continued eating my salad.

After work I go to my apartment. The place isn’t the nicest, but it’s affordable. I should stop getting fast food but it’s too good not to get it. And I’m too lazy to cook tonight.

I drive to chick-fill-a. The line is outrageously long so I go inside. I order my spicy deluxe and a sprite. When I look over to my left and see Matt. I mean he’s wearing baggy light blue jeans and a white wife beater, but I still recognize his blue eyes and brown hair.

“Oh hey Matt.” I call out. He looks at me and smirks “well hello, hottie.” The nickname he gives me makes my cheeks flush. “That blush on your cheeks is so adorable. So adorable that I might want to see that blush in private.” He smirks and that only makes me blush more.

When another Matt comes out of the bathroom. Wait what? Two Matt’s? “Chris, what are you doing with Remedy?” The bathroom Matt asks. “Just having fun. No big deal.” The one named Chris replied, shrugging. “What is going on?” I asked. “You were just talking to my triplet younger brother Chris.” Matt explained.

So he is a triplet? I think as another boy who looked similar to Matt came out of the bathroom. “And that’s my older triplet, Nick.” Mat explained. “So Matt, this is the infamous Remedy? She’s way cuter than you said.” Chris said with a smirk. “Wait he talks about me?” I ask.

Nick wraps his arm loosely around Matt’s neck. Nick cutting Matt off when he tried to speak. “Yeah all the time. Like a little lover boy.” Matt’s face flushed red “shut up.” Matt said, hiding his face behind his hands.

The workers calls my number and I go to get my food and drink. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at work, Matt.” I say, waving at him smiling. “Yeah see you, Remedy.”

Taglist 🎀: @littlemissmoo30 @itsmeemmasturniolo @nixizz @maze-fiv3

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romanczukowsky · 1 day ago

Text

He Shouldn’t Know

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N secretly in love with George Weaslay writes about her feelings and hot fantasies in her diary.

Warnings: Mature content / Explicit scenes / Diary / Secret fantasies

I shouldn’t be writing this. I shouldn’t even be thinking it. But I can’t stop.

Every move he makes feels like a spell cast on me. His voice—that low, slightly hoarse, lazy tone—hits me right in the stomach every time, spreading through my body like hot tea on a winter morning. He smells like something warm and smoky, like firewood and mint. I don’t know if it’s his shampoo or just… him. George. George Weasley.

He sits next to me like it means nothing. Like we’re still just casual friends from the common room. He laughs at some dumb joke Fred makes and nudges me in the side with his elbow—he always does that. And every single time, I shiver like he’s touching me for the first time. Like I just stepped out of a cold shower that didn’t help at all.

When he sat close today, so close his arm brushed mine… everything else disappeared. The room fell silent. All I could feel was his warmth. And I hated myself for how badly I wanted to lean into him, to press my body against his side, to rest my hand on his thigh. I wanted him to look at me differently. Not like a younger friend, not like some kid sister. I wanted him to see me as a woman.

But he doesn’t. He never does.

Sometimes I wonder… what if he did look at me that way?

What if his hand didn’t pull away from my shoulder? What if his fingers traced my skin slowly, as if trying to memorize every inch of it? What if he moved closer—so close I could feel his breath on my neck? And he wouldn’t say a word. He would just look at me. The way no one has ever looked at me before.

I closed my eyes for a moment when he was next to me. And I imagined him leaning in. His hand sliding down my thigh—firm, but gentle. As if he had the right to touch me. As if he knew my body better than I did. My heart beat faster, my legs tensing beneath my robe. I imagined his fingers brushing a lock of my hair aside, then softly lifting my chin.

“Look at me,” he’d whisper. Just that. And I would lift my gaze… I don’t know if it would be magic or a dream, but his eyes would burn.

“I’ve been looking at you for a long time, Y/N,” he’d murmur. And then he’d kiss me. Not like in a fairytale. Not sweet. Fierce. Deep. So much that the world would blur. His tongue would find mine without asking. His hands would grip my hips. He’d gently push me back onto a soft couch. My breath would grow uneven as his hand slid down my stomach… lower… lower...

I want him to push my robe aside, for his fingers to find the places no one has touched before. I want him to show me what it means when a man truly wants a woman. Not a girl. A woman. I want him to lose himself in me. And me in him. Just once. Even if only once...

I shouldn’t feel this way. But I do. Jealousy. Anger. And… helplessness.

Today, he was sitting with them — the older ones… They were so confident, laughing loudly, talking about things I didn’t even fully understand. George had that usual, effortless posture, like nothing could touch him, and yet somehow, he still controlled the conversation. Fred was right beside him, as always. And I… I was sitting a few benches away, among the people he barely even notices.

And then she walked in. With that perfect smile. That waist so tiny her robes barely clung to her. She leaned down to whisper something in his ear, and he laughed. He laughed. Deeply. The way he never does around me.

Is she the one he’s taking to the ball? He didn’t tell me who. He didn’t tell me anything. Because, well… he had no reason to. To him, I’m just Y/N. Always a few steps behind. A few years too young. Too young, too unimportant.

But I imagined, just for a moment, what it would feel like if he asked me.

I close my eyes and feel myself walking up to him in the ballroom.

I’m wearing that tight black dress — the one I never thought I could pull off. But in this version of me, I’m confident. Put together. Grown-up. George looks at me and can’t take his eyes off.

“Y/N?” he says, like he can’t believe it. “You look…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He simply reaches out his hand to me. Leads me to the dance floor. His hand is warm. Strong. Guiding me with surety, but gentle, like we’ve danced together a thousand times before.

Everyone else disappears. It’s just us. I feel his hand on my back, lower than it should be. And then, when the music fades, he leans in. Whispering softly:

“I shouldn’t… but I can’t hold back anymore…”

And he kisses me. This time, not sweetly. Passionately. Without a trace of doubt. He gently pushes me toward the stairs, pulls me after him, all the way up to an empty room.

We close the door. Then his hands slide the straps of my dress off my shoulders.

He kisses my neck, my shoulder. His fingers glide down my spine, then lower, to my hips. His body presses against mine, and I feel him. Really feel him. Hard. Ready. My body pulses, craving more. My thighs part on their own, as if inviting him in.

“You’re so… damn beautiful,” he says, and then…

Today, quite unexpectedly, George came up to me.

I was standing a bit to the side with Ginny. And he had that characteristic, slightly mischievous smile — the one that always both disarmed me and… broke me at the same time. He looked at me — not as quickly, not as casually as usual. He looked carefully, like he wanted to see something, to discover.

“Check this out,” he said to me and Ginny, pulling something from his pocket that I hadn’t seen before — a small, strange gadget, something that looked like a miniature flying figurine. “Fred and I came up with it to… you know, entertain people a bit around the castle.” His eyes sparkled with pride.

For a moment, I felt like I was part of this world, that I had access to it, that I was finally closer.

And then I thought about what might happen if it wasn’t just about showing off a toy.

I imagined George leaning toward me with that figurine, and then his smile changing.

I close my eyes and see his hands turning me gently but firmly toward the wall. I feel his breath on my neck, his hands on my hips.

“You know I hate waiting, right?” he says softly, so only I can hear. His fingers slide under my robe, brushing my skin, and my heart starts pounding like crazy. His touch is warm, confident, and even though it’s all just in my head, I feel it as if it’s real.

I feel his lips trailing down my neck, his tongue teasing my skin. His hands slowly move lower beneath my clothes, and I hold onto the edge of the table, trying to keep calm.

In my imagination, George is the whole world now, and I exist only for him.

"I want you," he whispers, a voice that pierces me to the core.

His hands tighten around me, and I want to respond, but I’m too embarrassed, too shy. So I stay silent, letting him take the lead.

His lips travel to my collarbone, down my chest, and I feel my heart almost leap out of my chest. When his tongue touches my skin, I want to scream, beg for more, even more.

He touches me where no one has ever touched before. Gently, tenderly, yet with such strength that I forget the whole world.

In my mind, an image forms — him, me, both lost in this one moment, in this moment that no one will ever take away from us.

He moves lower, lower and lower, down to my thighs. He touches me in places only my imagination knows. Each stroke of his fingers sends a shiver spreading through my entire body. I feel everything inside me melting — fear, shame, loneliness.

His breath quickens, my hands clutch his shirt. We are together, truly together — even if only in my thoughts.

Today, Ginny invited me to spend the holidays at the Weasley’s house. At their place.

I can’t believe this is actually happening. That I have a chance to be close. Close to George.

The thought of being there, in their home — warm, full of laughter and the smell of gingerbread — makes my heart beat faster. But most of all... what I want the most is the moment when we’ll be alone.

I imagine that moment: it’s late, everyone is already asleep or talking in another room. Just him and me.

As soon as the door closed, George pulled me to him so tightly I could almost feel his heartbeat against my chest. His hands rested on my hips, gripping so firmly I felt a shiver of pleasure rush through my entire body.

His lips landed on my neck, leaving hot kisses that set me on fire. His fingers tightened on my shoulders, slowly exploring every inch of my skin, uncovering me bit by bit.

The robe I wore slipped quietly off, pooling on the floor and revealing my bare body. George didn’t waste a second — his hands slid down my waist, then lower, tracing the edge of my underwear. His fingers gently parted the fabric, exposing my most intimate places.

I trembled beneath his touch, feeling the tension and desire build inside me. His fingers roamed more boldly now, and I couldn’t hold back the soft moan escaping my lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

His lips traveled slowly down my stomach to where I most longed for his touch. He kissed me there, leaving a warm trail that ignited a fire deep inside.

His tongue began to wander gently, diving into my most secret places, while his fingers grew confident, bringing me to a pleasure I’d never known before.

I was all his, completely surrendered. Every breath, every movement was a response to his touch. I felt his body press against mine, pulsing with need, and I wanted more — his presence, his touch, a whole world made just for me.

Every word is heavy with emotion, yet sweet, as if it wants to flow straight from my heart.

Suddenly, I hear a voice from the hallway: “Y/N, it’s time, your parents are downstairs!”

Downstairs, the car is waiting for me. I get in, feeling the cold air outside the window, and think about what I left behind — the warm Weasley home, the laughter, and most of all, George.

On the way back, I hold my bag in my hands, but my heart tells me something is wrong.

The notebook...

And then, with horror, I realize: I left it.

In that room, where it lay on the table, where George could have found it.

My heart starts beating faster, and my hands clutch my head. What if he reads everything?

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returnofeternity · 1 day ago

Note

Making Van ‘the storyteller’ Palmer talk you through her filthiest fantasies about you while you touch her for the first time… she gets all flushed and embarrassed telling you about the elaborate scenarios she’s been falling asleep to. Calling her a dirty little boy as she ruts against your hand after confessing all her deepest desires, words slowly trailing off into little whimpers :(. Could work as wilderness Van in her little solstice outfit from the season three premiere … dragging her into her hut bc ur into her cocky storyteller routine. OR could be store owner adult Van with a younger employee who she’s been fantasizing about but feeling guilty for doing it since she’s so much older.

suddenly she's so shy to tell you her stories, and you ofc make fun of her for it!! she loves the embarrassment tbh. just makes her feel like a pervert while she tells you how often she's fantasized about lifting you up on shauna's butchering table and eating you out. she literally lurches forward sometimes with how often her gut pools with heat, her eyes fluttering, stumbling over her words.... sticking your hands in her pants and cupping her strap, because she's always wearing one, and asking if she's ever jerked it off while thinking of you. you know the answer, but you wanna hear van say it out loud.

"such a desperate, dirty boy." van whines as you degrade her, her strap messily rutting into your hand as you grope it. she looks so breathtaking like this. just a pathetic thing who's humping your hand while sitting on the ground. "tell me more."

van sucks her lip between her teeth and exhales shakily. god, there's so much more she could say, so many fantasies she could tell you, but she can't think of a single one when she's going dumb just by humping your hand.

her mouth opens and closes, brain working overtime to try and think of one.

"you..." van breaks off into a moan when you rub her strap against her hard clit. the smug grin you give her makes her flush, the tips of her ears heating up with humiliation. "you cockwarming my strap outside the huts. i'd have a blanket draped over your lap so no one knows, but i can't help but make you bounce up and down."

and ofc all you wanna do is help her out with these fantasies!! so after fucking her for the first time, you make a plan to make them all come to life. the first one she told you about, the one where she wanted to eat you out on shauna's butchering table, was probably her favorite because she did it while some of the girls were still outside and could have easily caught you two...

;

but older van with younger reader.... making her confess how much she really gets off to the age gap between you two, laughing at her for being a shy, stuttering mess while she tells you how guilty she feels for thinking about you that way. but every word that falls from her lips, every possible scenario she tells you about, makes you so wet it's almost uncomfortable.

van who tells you that you should be with someone your own age, but she doesn't even mean it. she wants you to be with her, she just feels slightly guilty for it. she thinks about how she could give you so much more than some girl your age. she could teach you more.

thinking about tugging down her jeans and blowing her strap while making her tell you more about these fantasies she's been having... any time she stops talking, you stop blowing her. and you hold her hips against the bed because she tries to move them to feel you again.

van who just about cums the second you tell her you've never been with a woman her age 😊😊 van who shows you that older women eat pussy the best when you finally let her touch you.... eats you up so good you couldn't even make fun of her for being a whiny mess.

vanvanvanvanvan!!!!!!!!!!!

#anon #van palmer thoughts 💭#van palmer x reader #adult van palmer x reader

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grace-huxley · 1 day ago

Text

07 July 2025 — Part II California State Prison, L.A. County

Stan Brooks glared at Grace who held her own. The older man didn't seem to like the idea that a female criminal investigator had come to do his job for him, but there was a flicker of acceptance in his old, tired eyes. Everyone in the room understood the gravity of this case and there was no place for anyone's ego here.

He gave Grace a curt nod before crossing the room and sitting himself down on the lone seat. Grace watched him cross his arms over his broad chest and lean back with a huff. It was no warm approval but still, the best they could get out of him. And cooperation was what they needed.

"Huxley, you ready?"

The seasoned investigator turned to look at her supervisor, Thomas Sharpe, and gave him a nod. He handed her a manila envelope at least an inch thick, signaling her to go in as he turned the thermostat down a few degrees.

The interrogation room was already cold to begin with, but grew steadily colder still. The drop in temperature was to ensure that Dax Holloway had no room to get comfortable. And should his body succumb to it, the cold ought to put him on edge.

Grace's black patent leather pumps clicked with every step she took, and it was enough to get Dax's attention. So far, he had only been arrested and questioned by the men of the Los Angeles police department. All very experienced, yet none carried themselves the way Grace did as she sat across from Dax Holloway. On her own and unafraid, she stared the monster in the face, with her own void of fear and expression.

Grace had barely opened her folder when she heard the man smirk. She looked up, unperturbed, whilst Dax seemed to have invited himself to lean across the metal table, as close to her as his cuffs — locked against the table — would allow him.

"You should smile more," Dax and Grace said almost simultaneously, the woman's voice a ringing echo of his.

This visibly caught him off guard; while his taunt was clearly meant to intimidate her, Grace had reiterated the tired-old sentiment, unafraid to show how utterly predictable he was. And although it was only a flash, she could've sworn she caught him snarl in discontent as he leaned back on his seat. He growled like a petulant child, to which Grace simply ignored.

"So, what now?" Dax demanded impatiently. "They've decided to bring in a chick because you think that'd intimidate me?" He scoffed, more than ready to prove that he was unfazed by the change of interrogators.

He then raised his voice loud enough so that the people behind the two-way mirror could hear him address them. "If you really believe what you're all charging me for, why'd you let some blonde in here alone with me, huh?" He snorted, shaking his head. "Dumbasses."

Grace fought the urge to roll her eyes. There really was nothing worse than a narcissistic man who thinks he's got the upper hand.

"What?" Dax challenged her, getting more agitated by the minute. "What are you waiting for then? Do your thing. Show me something good."

Grace slid a document across the table without missing a beat. It had all of his information on it, along with a list of all of the offenses he's committed — from sex trafficking to racketeering, among many more. All to which he didn't even bother reading.

"Do you know what this is, Dax?"

"Dax?" He scoffed at her. "Who do you think you are calling me by my name?"

"I'm Special Agent Grace Huxley from INTERPOL, Dax. And this is what we call a Red Notice."

"What the hell?! What does that mean?"

"A Red Notice is a request to law enforcement worldwide to locate and provisionally arrest an individual pending extradition, surrender, or similar legal action," Grace recited off the top of her head. "Or in layman's terms, it's a warrant for your arrest given to every single country whose citizens you've decided to ruin."

"What the goddamn fuck are you talking about?!" Dax was undeniably irritated at this point but none of it fazed Grace. Instead, she calmly withdrew a photo taken of Juno Hollis' press conference from a week ago. Dax tried to swipe it off the table, but Grace was too quick for him. She kept the woman's photo front and centre, practically forcing Dax to look at it.

"Rip it all you want, I've got many more of those printed out," Grace dared him.

"What does this bitch have to do with whatever you're talking about?"

"Since you seem to have forgotten her name, that's Juno Hollis," Grace reminded him, more than ready to hammer her name and all the names of his victims into his head. "And it's her press conference that brought rise to all the other women you've assaulted one way or another — in and out of the United States. Women you thought you could silence."

She cocked her head to the side, looking at him pitifully. "Suddenly wishing you had brought in your solicitor here, huh?"

Dax looked up, confused. "My wha-?"

"Your lawyer," Grace rephrased so there'd be no misunderstanding. "Or did you think you didn't need one if you could waltz out of here like you did the last time?" She could feel her hatred for him steadily rise. "Unfortunately for you, I'm here to ensure that never happens again. And that every woman who've spoken out against you will not have done so in vain."

Grace then stood up and placed her hands flat on the table. She leaned over ever so slightly, enough to dare him to look her in the eye. And just enough so he could hear every enunciated word.

"I'd hire a lawyer if I were you, and a good one, too," Grace spoke, clean and clear. "It's not going to keep you out of a maximum-security prison," she said, "but at least your ego will be somewhat intact if you don't blame your inevitable demise over something as stupid as 'no counsel'."

Pushing off of the table in disgust, Grace was gathering all of her files back into the folder when Dax, who'd been skimming through the Red Notice, managed to grab at her wrist, hard. The sudden motion triggered Grace's instincts and she immediately reached for his wrist with one hand, and her holstered gun with the other.

"Wait, wait, wait," Dax surrendered before Grace could draw her gun. He released his grip on her, and though still cuffed and tethered to the table, he put his hands up in surrender. He needed her to listen to him.

"What if I give you names?"

Grace straightened up but said nothing, simply eyeing him and trying to deduce his motives, which took no time at all.

"I can give you names of accomplices," he offered, all to save himself, no doubt. "Will that help my case? Get me placed on house arrest instead or something?"

Grace almost laughed out loud. The nerve of this guy. He's been formally charged and wanted by the International Police Organisation, and yet, he still thought he could get off with just 'house arrest'?

"Give me names, and I'll think about it. How's that?" Grace wasn't about to let him think he can weasel his way out of his self-dug hell-hole. But dangling that carrot was too good to pass up.

"Allen Dupree."

#[ grace huxley || narrative 02 ]#hollow saints

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old-women-can-peg-me · 3 days ago

Text

Do You Know, I Could Break Beneath The Waves

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Tags: Interpol Emily, Australian reader, oral sex, fingering, strap-ons, bottom Emily, praise kink, multiple orgasms

Summary:

As an Australian working at Interpol, you and Emily have begun a relationship. Unfortunately she is quite dedicated to her work and leaves you waiting for her to finish. What else can you do but punish her for it?

A/N:

If a single mf says ‘naur’ in the comments - consider it my 13th reason

I do not know what American things are so deal with the solo cup bc I have read too many fics not written by Aussies that say our fav things are Vegemite and shit so fuck off.

I just watched the ep where she has a London bf and fuck that.

Not beta read, deal with the dyslexia.

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/67303297

Enjoy

———

“Hey, pretty girl,” you smiled, leaning against your bosses door frame, “you ready to go?”

“Just a second, I’ve got to finish up with this file,” Emily replied, not looking up from her desk.

You sighed and closed the door behind you. Emily finally looked up and seemed almost shocked to see you still standing in front of her. You chuckled softly at your girlfriend’s reaction, knowing exactly how she was.

“What?” You smirked, “You didn’t think I was leaving, did you? You’re my ride.”

Emily’s face softened for a moment at the sound of your voice flitting through the room. She’d made a comment before you started dating about how soothing your Australian accent was and you used it often to calm her when you knew she was stressed.

You admired Emily for a moment, her white dress still perfectly ironed even after a day of work, the jacket-like shoulders framing her in a way that made her look almost ethereal. Her brow was furrowed as she read over the file in front of her, the words beginning to blur together as the promise of going home with you hung in the air.

You could see the stress clearly on her face and your heart ached for a second as you wished you could take it all away. You made the decision to try, even if it would only work for a little bit.

Emily flicked her eyes back to you for a split second at the sound of your heeled boots against the floor, acknowledging that you were moving closer to her. You rounded her desk and wrapped your arms around her shoulders from behind, bending awkwardly over the back of her chair in the process. You pressed a soft kiss to her temple and the older woman hummed, leaning slightly into your touch.

“My smart… American… girlfriend…” you said in between kisses, “working… so… hard…”

Emily groaned softly, her eyes flickering shut as she melted into your touch.

“Needs… to finish… work… so… her… Australian… girlfriend… can…” you brushed your lips against her ear, whispering the last two words, “fuck her…”

“Jesus Christ,” Emily groaned, “just give me five minutes and then I’m all yours baby, I promise.”

You smirked and pressed one more kiss to her cheek before stepping away and letting her finish her work. You sat yourself down on the couch in the corner of her room, watching her with a wide smile as she tried to finish her work as fast as she could.

While you waited patiently, you ran through all the ways you could have her tonight. You could make her work for it, ride your strap until she couldn’t and you’d be forced to flip her onto her back and pound her until she couldn’t take anymore. You could skip the first part and just fuck her into the mattress, that sounded like fun. Your other options were going down on her until she was overstimulated and shaking, fingering her while sloppily sucking her clit. You could edge her until she couldn’t even beg anymore but you liked seeing her cum far too much for that to ever be effective. No. Overstimulation and multiple orgasms was the way to go with Emily.

Each option made your eyes darken as you watched your girlfriend work. The images of her coming apart again and again in so many different ways was turning you on far more than you should be considering you were still at work.

You flicked your eyes to the clock on the wall, the one with London time, and counted down the seconds until five minutes was up.

“Times up, baby,” you smiled, keeping your eyes trained on her.

Emily sighed and looked over at you and you could see the apology forming on her lips before it even left them.

“How much longer?” You sighed, slouching against the couch cushions, accepting that you would be stuck here for a while.

“I’m not sure,” Emily mumbled, “this is taking longer than it should. I'm really sorry baby.”

You hummed noncommittally, not upset just tired of having to play this fucking game of never ending paperwork every night.

“Just tell me when you’re ready,” you said, offering her your best smile.

You understood how important this part of the job was, making sure all the paperwork was not only done but done correctly. It didn’t mean it didn’t suck when it stopped the two of you from going home at a reasonable time.

“Come here, baby,” Emily said, pushing her chair back from her desk a little bit.

You sighed and your smile lightened a little as you pushed yourself off the comfortable couch with a groan that was as dramatic as it could be. Emily rolled her eyes at the sound, knowing exactly what you were like. You made your way over to the raven haired woman and went to plonk yourself down in her lap but her hand on your hips stopped you.

“Face me.”

You smiled wider and turned around. You knew she was doing this to placate you while she worked until god knows what hour. You didn’t care, you could curl up in her lap and bury your face in her neck. You straddled her lap and got yourself comfortable, shifting a little so you could wrap your arms around her torso.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Emily sighed again, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

You hummed into her neck, pressing your own kiss to the skin there and inhaling her perfume. You knew why she got you into this position, it meant you couldn’t look at the clock on the wall and keep track of how long she was taking.

You made a mental note to absolutely ruin her for making you wait so long.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting in her lap, your knees were a little sore and slightly cramped but you didn’t really care all that much. Your eyes felt heavy and you knew if she took any longer, you’d fall asleep.

“Do I need to carry you to the car?” Emily asked, running her fingers through your hair.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you,” you mumbled, trying to untangle yourself from her lap, “I’m thinking fingers, mouth then strap.”

Emily laughed and lifted your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. She mumbled another apology against your lips and you smiled, returning the kiss.

“Come on, baby,” Emily said, helping you stand, “you promised me a fuck.”

You laughed and also helped her stand, pulling her back in for another kiss. The two of you walked, hand in hand, down to the parking garage, a wide smile on your face as you neared the black SUV. You got in the passengers side while Emily sat behind the wheel, an easy smile on her lips at the comfort you provided her.

It was late, you didn’t need to look at the car's clock to know that. The moon was high in the sky, full and bright and illuminating Emily’s face as she focused on the road. It had taken her a while to get used to driving on the left side of the road, so much so that you were the one to pick her up everyday for work. You would have dropped her home too but she worked far too late for you to justify staying without outing your massive crush on the woman. And then she got used to driving in London and you no longer had a reason to be so close to her. However, Emily was a profiler through and through and knew about your little crush which is how you ended up dating.

“You’re staring,” Emily smirked, flicking her eyes over to you.

You couldn’t help the giddy smile on your face, like a teenager being caught by their crush as your face turned red.

“Can you blame me?” You retorted, “When my girlfriend looks as good as you do.”

Emily smiled and shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her. Her hand slid over the center console and found yours, giving it a soft squeeze while still keeping her eyes on the road.

It wasn’t a far drive from the office to the apartment you and Emily shared, cozy but not too small and filled with small things that each reminded you of your homes. You had a giant quilt that was made to look like a box of Pizza Shapes that you always slept with and you’d gotten Emily a bedazzled red solo cup that she uses to hold her pens on her desk in her home office. There was also the world map you had hanging on the wall in the living room with pins stuck in it everywhere the two of you had ever gone. Emily’s pins were red, yours were blue and the places you’d been together were purple. It was small things around the apartment that made you feel like you were truly at home despite the both of you being hundreds of kilometres away from your real homes.

“What’s got you all serious and thinking over there?” Emily asked, nudging you with her elbow.

“Just how lucky I am to have such an incredibly attractive and intelligent girlfriend who cares so much about me.” You replied, unable to hide the giddy smile on your face.

Emily rolled her eyes as she pulled in the parking spot next to your car. The two of you walked over to the lift and as you waited, you took her hand in yours, leaning slightly onto her shoulder and inhaling her perfume.

“I love you, Emily Prentiss,” you sighed, staring at her reflection in the lift doors, “but when we get upstairs, I’m going to fu-”

You paused as the doors opened and one of your elderly neighbours stepped out.

“Hi Jane,” Emily smiled, a wicked smile on her face.

The elderly woman smiled at the both of you and offered a warm greeting as she stepped past you. You returned it, trying desperately to stop your face turning red at almost being caught by your neighbour describing what you were going to do to your girlfriend.

The two of you stepped into the lift and as the doors closed Emily burst out laughing.

“You should have seen your face,” Emily cackled, “you looked like you were going to die of embarrassment.”

“Shut up.” You hissed, grabbing her face and pulling her into a kiss.

Emily squeaked in surprise, almost dropping her bag as you pressed her against the wall. You were tired of waiting and you needed her desperately.

As soon as the lift dinged you pulled Emily out of the lift and practically ran to the door, shoving the key in the lock and pulling her inside. Emily seemed almost shocked by how rough you were being as you pushed her against the now closed door.

“I have waited all fucking day for this,” you growled, “I’m done waiting.”

You didn’t waste any time as you dropped to your knees and pulled up the skirt of Emily’s dress. The ravenette groaned and rested her head against the door. She dropped her bag beside her, shrugging her jacket off and letting that fall to the ground as well.

You pulled her underwear down, letting out a low moan at the string of wetness that connected from her underwear to her pussy. You looked her in the eyes as you licked the evidence of her arousal up from the fabric.

“Oh fuck,” Emily moaned, “do you have any idea how hot you are?”

You chuckled and pushed yourself forward, pressing your tongue against her dripping wet entrance. Emily groaned and rolled her hips, pressing herself down against your mouth. You moaned as the taste of her filled your mouth, something you would never get tired of, and you lapped at her eagerly.

You sucked at her clit and you felt your girlfriend's hands in your hair, pulling you closer. You hooked her leg over your shoulder and dove in deeper, sliding your tongue down and into her. Emily moaned loudly, mumbling something incoherent as she pressed you harder into her.

“Fuck, baby, so close,” she whimpered, rolling her hips.

It never failed to amaze you how easy it was to make her cum, taking such little stimulation before she was a moaning and whining mess.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” You asked, breaking away only for a breath before diving back in.

Emily whined and nodded, bucking her hips. You felt her clench around your tongue and it only made you double down your efforts. It didn’t take much more for her to fall apart on your tongue, crying out your name. You lapped at her for a moment longer until she stopped twitching.

You pulled away and looked up at her with hungry eyes, wiping your face with the back of your hand. Emily looked down at you before grabbing your wrist and pulling you up. She dragged you towards the bedroom with determination, eager to return the favour and taste you too.

You followed after her, giggling as you reached up and unzipped her dress as she was walking. Emily turned around and feigned annoyance at you interrupting her task of getting you into the bedroom.

“Eager little thing,” Emily growled, pressing her lips against yours.

You moaned and let her push you against the wall, giving her the perfect leverage to scoop you up and force your legs to wrap around her hips.

“I thought I was in charge tonight,” you gasped, pushing her shoulder in the direction of your bedroom.

“When you get the strap out, then you’re in charge,” Emily mumbled, kissing you and leading you blindly towards the room.

You hummed and ran your fingers through her hair, holding her even closer as she kicked open the door. The two of you barely pulled away for breath, even as she lowered you onto the mattress and her hands began to explore.

Emily pulled away and let her dress fall to the ground before closing back in on you and pulling the buttons of your shirt undone. You moaned as her mouth followed the path of her hands, nipping at your skin on her way down.

“You know my plan for tonight was to punish you for making me wait so long,” you hummed, lifting your hips so she could pull your pants down.

“Like I said, baby,” Emily replied, kissing your hip, “you get that strap on you and you can do whatever you want.”

You pushed yourself onto your elbows and bit your lip at the sight of the ravenette on her knees for you. You thought about making a quip about a woman of her age being on her knees but you knew she was already slightly insecure about the age gap between the two of you. She was only fifteen years older than you but it was still something she frequently made self deprecating jokes about.

You leaned over and tried to reach for the bedside drawer before Emily’s hand came up and stopped them. You looked down at her and saw the wicked smile on her face.

“Em…” you said, trying to make it sound like a warning.

“Shhh, baby,” Emily smiled, pressing a kiss against your lips, “lay back and let me take care of you. Or do I have to cuff you?”

Your smile slowly shifted into a smirk and you managed to get your hands out of her grasp and push her backwards, using her surprise to straddle her and pin her hands above her head.

“Looks like tonight, Emily Prentiss is a bottom,” you smirked, leaning back to open the bedside drawer.

You knew she wouldn’t fight you once you were on top. She was all talk when it came to being in charge in the bedroom unless you let her. You grabbed the harness and its attached appendage, standing over Emily while you pulled it up your legs. She watched you with wide eyes, sitting up on her elbows to watch you tighten the straps.

“You gonna get it ready for me, baby?” You asked, taking a step back and falling onto the bed.

Emily’s brain short circuited for a moment at the sight of you sitting naked on the bed with the strap jutting from your hips.

“If I knew this was all I had to do to break my girlfriend, I’d have sat like this a lot sooner,” you smirked, leaning forward and holding out your hand.

Emily took it and you pulled her forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling her up onto your lap. She gasped as the strap pressed against her bare stomach.

“Sorry,” Emily mumbled, resting her hands on your shoulders and biting her lip, “you just- uh- you look really good with the strap.”

You chuckled and kissed her on the lips, gripping her hips and lifting her. Emily bit her lip as she began to press herself against the tip of the strap. You moved her hips back and forth, coating the tip of the toy with her arousal. Emily moaned each time the strap bumped her clit and you knew she was only a few moments away from just sinking herself down onto it.

You knew when you moved your hands away, there would be little crescent moon marks from your nails but you also knew that Emily would love it more than anything. She loved when you marked her, leaving behind little bruises and shallow indents that sometimes went a little too deep and broke skin.

You looked up at her as you forced her hips down, thrusting the whole length into her, a pornagraphic squelch from between her legs from the excessive wetness.

“Fuck!” Emily cried, her nails digging into your shoulders as she adjusted to the stretch.

You groaned at the dull pain and wished, more than anything, that you could feel the way she squeezed around the toy. Emily whimpered slightly, her head falling forward slightly and she gave you a soft nod, indicating that you could move. All you did was chuckle.

“Oh no, baby,” you smirked, “you’re gonna ride me.”

Emily shot her head up faster than you’d ever seen, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. You could see the protest rising in her throat as well as a pout forming on her face. She knew as well as you did that you could never say no when she made that face. You chose instead to wrap a hand around her throat, your other one dropping from her hip and smacking her ass.

Emily made a noise, halfway between a yelp and a moan, automatically shifting upwards to escape the impact of your hand. The shift of movement made her whimper and as her eyes fluttered shut, you knew she would do as you asked.

“That’s a good girl,” you cooed, rubbing your thumb over her jaw.

Emily moaned, her hips beginning to shift as she slowly lowered herself down. You watched, mesmerised, as her hips began to pick up their pace, her tits bouncing right in front of your face as she bounced on the strap.

“Bloody hell, Prentiss,” you groaned, dropping your hand from her throat so you could cup her breast, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Yeah?” Emily breathed, “What’s that headline going to say? International Interpol agent dead from fucking her boss?”

You cursed under your breath, refusing to admit just how turned on it made you when she brought up the fact that she was in fact still your boss. You leaned forward and wrapped your lips around her nipple, sucking on the rosy bud as she bounced up and down.

“I fucking love your tits,” you mumbled, “and your ass,” you added, groping her ass in the process.

Emily moaned and moved faster, her head falling back as she chased the high she knew you could give her. You swapped to her other nipple, lightly biting down and leaving as many marks as you could. You kissed and nipped around her chest, leaving behind dark love bites that would be hard to hide in her usual clothes.

“Fuck,” Emily cried, “m-more, please, baby. Wanna cum.”

You hummed and dropped your hand down, your fingers rubbing small and tight circles over her clit. Emily moaned, the sound low and desperate as her hips became more frantic.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You breathed, lavishing her neck with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses.

Emily made a noise that sounded close to a yes, her hips stuttering as she got closer to her release. Her moans rose in pitch once again right before she tensed, her movements stilling with the strap still buried in her. You kept rubbing her clit, dragging her through her second orgasm of the night with a wicked smile. Her hips rolled a little as she rode the last waves of pleasure and you took her moment of bliss to stand up and swap positions, keeping the strap inside as you laid her on her back.

Emily looked up at you with half lidded eyes, somewhat aware of what you intended to do but still lost in the high of her release. You shifted your hips, pulling out a little and more than enjoying the soft whimper it drew from your girlfriend.

“I know you can give me at least one more,” you smiled, peppering her face with soft kisses.

“Ngh- b-baby…” Emily whined, “sensitive.”

You shushed her softly and began to slowly shift your hips. You pulled out to the tip before gently sliding back in, watching the way Emily’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. You chuckled to yourself at the sight of her already fucked out knowing you were just going to ruin her further.

You knew Emily’s body like the back of your hand at this point and you knew the exact moment to speed up your thrusts to absolutely ruin her. She let out a guttural moan when you hit the exact right spot, your thrusts becoming faster and harder. A chorus of curses fell from her mouth as you easily built her right back up to her peak. It was always so easy to get another orgasm out of her right after another.

“C’mon baby,” you grunted, resting one of her legs over your shoulder, “I know you’re close again. Let go for me.”

Emily whined but nodded her head, her eyes squeezing shut and her body tensing once again. You made your thrusts that little bit harsher while the hand that wasn’t holding her leg snaked back down to her clit. She screamed out at the pressure you placed on the sensitive bud, rubbing tight circles once again.

“That’s right,” you coaxed, “let go baby, let go.”

Emily’s body tensed one last time, her back arching and thighs shaking as she came once again. You fucked her through the ripples of pleasure that wracked her body, slowly lessening the speed and strength of your thrusts.

Emily’s eyes were still squeezed shut, her mouth hung open and her breathing heavy. She looked absolutely perfect and ruined.

“Can you take one more for me, baby?” You asked, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“N-no…” Emily breathed, “s-sorry.”

You shushed her gently, softly running your hands up and down the sides of her torso, being careful to remain 100% still so as not to overwhelm her further.

“Don’t apologise my love,” you smiled, pressing another soft kiss to her temple, “but I’m going to pull out, okay?”

Emily nodded her head, her eyes still closed either from over sensitivity or exhaustion, you weren’t sure which. You gently began to pull out, pausing with each sharp inhale she let out. Once you were fully out, you made your way to the bathroom, undoing the straps of the harness and resting it in the sink to clean later. You got a damp cloth and walked back over to your girlfriend, dropping to your knees and gently wiping her down.

Emily twitched and whimpered as you ran the warm cloth over her sensitive sex and you cooed words of praise as you cleaned her up before moving to yourself. With both of you clean, you threw the cloth in the laundry basket and grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge as well as a small packet of biscuits.

“Drink and eat,” you softly commanded Emily, sliding into bed with her and making sure she was under the covers.

The ravenette hummed softly and chugged down half of the water before practically stuffing the crumbly biscuits into her mouth. You chuckled softly and waited for her to swallow before pulling her back down and wrapping your arms around her.

“I love that you know exactly how to turn my brain off,” Emily mumbled, wrapping her arms around your middle and snuggling closer.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Anytime, Prentiss, anytime.”

#emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #fanfic #reader insert #ao3 fanfic #x yn #old women can peg me

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