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#I just do not know how to use ao3 lol to find what I’m looking for
coconutdays · 5 months
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can anyone recommend like a longass jjk fic from ao3 ??? I’m talking book like shit
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shadowlali · 25 days
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Heyy I've been struggling to find some good enemies to lovers with Graves, can we get some good old sassy reader x agitated easily Graves?
ransom
COD - Phillip Graves x fem!reader
[18+] wc: ~2.5k summary: You take Phillip's target. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: NSFW, no specific timeline, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, enemies to lovers, inaccurate military references, some minor OC characters, pet names (sugar, doll, brat), unprotected sex, squirting, creampie
a/n: the car is fine. it is sturdy. lol
“What do you mean he’s gone?” Phillip roars into his microphone. 
Private Anderson sighs before speaking, “Gonzalez saw him get into a car with a woman.”
“Well what are y’all waiting for? Get back in the fucking Jeep and follow them!” 
It’s not common for Phillip to lose sight of targets. Fucking newbies. All of their extensive training and they let a target walk away? It only takes a few minutes for Graves’ men in the helo to catch sight of a few suspicious cars that are driving away from the location. 
Before Graves can tell his men to scan the inhabitants of each car, his phone begins to ring. Phillip takes a look at the screen and raises his eyebrow at the “Unknown Caller” flashing across. 
“Graves,” he answers. 
“Hi, handsome.” 
Phillip grunts your name into the receiver, the blood in his veins running hot at the sound of your voice. Infuriating. 
“What the fuck do you want?” 
“Is that anyway to talk to a friend, Phillip?” 
He grips the phone tighter in his hand, quickly giving orders to his men to scan the cars. Phillip walks to a more secluded corner of the helo, not wanting anyone else to hear his conversation. 
“That’s Commander Graves to you, young lady. And friends? Did we become friends before or after you stole millions of dollars worth of my weapons?” 
“Millions of dollars worth? Please, Phillip,” you scoff, “I barely got two million for them. And that’s only because General Adair thought the dress I was wearing was pretty.” 
Phillip stifles the groan in his throat. He knows first hand what you look like in dresses. Silky, little things that do almost nothing to hide your soft skin and gorgeous thighs–the beep of the scanning software immediately snaps him out of his daze. He doesn’t have time for this. 
“You just admitted to selling weapons to an enemy nation. Once I’m done with my work, I’ll make sure to hunt you down–” 
“Your work, huh?” you interrupt him. “A little birdie told me you lost your target.” 
“The fuck did you just say?” 
“Such harsh language, Phillip. That’s no way to speak to a young lady.” 
“Saw him get into a car with a woman,” Phillip repeats the words he heard earlier, “it was you, wasn’t it? You took my goddamn target,” he spits out, “I have my best men scanning every corner of this town. We’ll find you before you hit the highway.” 
“Oh no, handsome. We’re gone. I clocked your helo the moment I left his house.” 
Phillip’s body begins to vibrate with anger. He can’t let you take his target. 
“How much do you want?” 
You throw out your price, asking for half now and the rest later. “I’ll send you the coordinates for the pick-up and my bank account information. Come alone, and wear something cute for me.” 
Before he can respond to your aggravating comment, he hears the click of the call ending. He runs a hand through his hair. Always bleeding me dry, sugar.  
Phillip leans against his truck, keeping his eyes on a swivel. There’s really no reason to. The lot is abandoned and he’ll be able to spot a car before it comes close. There is only one dim light illuminating the entire lot. Other than that, the sky is slowly fading into dark blues and purples. 
“Heads up, Commander. A car is pulling up. Two inhabitants inside. A woman at the wheel and a man in the passenger seat,” his sergeant's voice comes through the earpiece.  
Phillip sees the headlights of your car before he hears it approaching. His pulse flutters a little faster as your red sports car pulls up close to his truck. He sees the man slumped over in the seat, a black bag covering his head and his hands bound with rope. 
You park the car and make your way out, the evening wind ruffling the bottom of your dress and exposing more of your thighs. It takes everything in him to not glance down the deep V-neckline of your dress as you stand in front of him. 
“I love it when you do as I say,” you whisper, gently tugging on the collar of his polo. 
“So this is what you used from the sale of my weapons? A fancy sports car?” Phillips grunts. 
You have the gall to wink at him. “No, actually. This was a gift. Oh,” you gasp, “I remember this!” 
You expose his neck and thumb the thin pink scar that spans from his ear to his collarbone. It’s healed now since the incident in Monaco. The day when he first met you and fully understood just how dangerous you can be. 
Phillip quickly grips your hand before you can touch him further, feeling himself harden. “I don’t have time for this, doll. Did you kill my target? If I lift up the bag will I find a bullet between his eyes?”
You roll your eyes. “It depends. Do you have the rest of my money?”
With your hand tightly gripped in his, he leads you a few steps to his back seat. Graves opens the door to show you a large briefcase. You slip your hand out of his to open it and check to make sure it's all there. Large stacks of green paper practically make your eyes sparkle. 
“You know what I love the most in this world, Phillip?” you ask. 
“Money?” 
“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “I love money. And I love it even more when I take it from men like you.” 
He has the sudden urge to bend you over and spank your ass for your insolence. Disrespectful brat. 
“Alright, it’s all here. Call your men, Phillip. I know they’re around here somewhere.” 
He can’t help but laugh. “Am I that predictable?” 
You give him a pointed look as he speaks into his mic, calling his men down. A minute later, his helo approaches from the sky. They park far away enough that neither of you are too affected by the wind from the blades and two soldiers hop down to take the target. Phillip waves them off and the helo pushes up, leaving you two alone as it heads back to their base. 
“I let the weapons slide and I paid you the money you asked for,” Phillip starts, “but this is the last time, doll. I won’t respond so nicely the next time.” 
He told himself he would be firm when he saw you again. Phillip can’t have you fucking up his mission and making him look weak in front of his soldiers.
“It wouldn’t happen so often if your soldiers were better,” you bite back. “I mean, now you have an upgraded security system for your warehouse and I’m sure you pulled the other soldiers out of the field for more training, right? If anything you should thank me.” 
Phillip stares back at you with suspicion coloring his face. “How do you know all those things?”
You ignore him and walk back to your car, dumping the briefcase full of cash in the now empty passenger seat. Before Phillip knows what he’s doing, he follows you, catching you by surprise as he wraps his hand around your arm. Your back is pushed onto the hood of the car and he situates himself right between your spread thighs. 
“Answer my question, doll,” he whispers in anger. “How do you know these things?” 
You let out a teasing laugh, “does the Commander fear there’s a mole in his company? One that’s giving intel to a thief like me?”
He never feels this agitated when he’s around other women. Something about you makes him so frustrated and–and intrigued. Phillip rips his earpiece out and throws it far. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand and pins them above your head. 
“How?” he spits out. 
“Don’t worry,” you whisper, “it’s all me.” You take the opportunity to grind down, closing that space between your bodies and rubbing your warm cunt over the bulge in his jeans.
He moans before he can stop himself. A glance down to your joined bodies and he can see your dress ridden up on your hips, your panties fully exposed to his eyes.  
“Every time you think you’ve improved your security or that you’ve chosen the best soldiers in the world, I’m there,” you moan, “Taking it apart. Piece. By. Piece.” 
“Why?” he groans, angry at himself for not noticing earlier. 
“Because it’s fun.”
He lets go of your hands, fully intending to walk away and leave you once and for all. But he’s not sure who attacks first. Your fingers sink into his hair and tug hard enough to sting at the same time his hand yanks down the top of your dress. His mouth fuses to yours in a kiss that’s mostly teeth and tongue.
He moves his head down, dragging his teeth over your collarbones and chest until they nip at the soft skin of your tits. A pained little moan escapes your mouth as he bites down on your swollen nipple. 
“For fun, huh?” Phillip asks. 
Phillip drags his teeth to the other, doing the same thing. You moan again, twisting your fingers in his hair and rubbing your cunt over the crotch of his jeans. He’ll finish before he even touches you if you keep doing that. 
He stands up to his full height and pushes his hips away. With a hard tug your panties are ripped off your body, eliciting a yelp from you, and stuffed into his jeans pocket. There’s not much light now, the sun has fully set and the street lamp flickers in the distance. 
But it’s enough light to see your swollen tits and the glisten of your pussy. His cock feels trapped in his jeans and his mouth waters at the sight of your cunt. Graves knows there isn’t time, there isn’t enough privacy even if this lot is abandoned. It doesn’t stop him from kneeling to swipe his tongue through your folds. Your back arches at the sudden contact. 
“Phillip,” you whimper.
Even the taste of you is perfect. It’s sticky sweet in his mouth and he wishes he could spend his time on you, no matter how much you infuriate him. 
“No, you didn’t do it for fun,” he mutters, “you did it to get my attention. Didn’t you, sugar?” 
Phillip unzips his jeans and takes out his thick cock, wrapping a hand around it to give it a few tugs and relieve the pressure. You haven’t responded to his question, too preoccupied with the sight of his cock. He slaps the inside of your thigh and brings your eyes back to him. 
“And if I say yes?” you tease in a shaky voice, spreading your thighs wider and dragging a hand down to spread open your cunt. 
He rubs the plush head over your folds and up to your clit, the both of you moaning at the contact. 
“Expensive way of trying to get my attention, baby.” 
Phillip moves your hand away and wraps your thigh around his waist, giving him the perfect angle to plunge into your cunt. You throw your head back onto the hood of the car, any words you were going to say now trapped in your throat. 
Graves can feel every pulse of your hot cunt. You grip him in such a tight heat that he goes blind for a second. Monaco, the arguments, the times you’ve stolen from him or taken his money–all of it has boiled down to this moment. 
“Fuck–,” he moans, “perfect little pussy.”
This is part punishment for all the times you’ve robbed him blind and part pleasure for all the times he’s wanted to sink into your pussy. The scent of your perfume and your warmth makes him dizzy. 
You claw at his arms, dig your nails into his skin, mark him after every rough plunge of his hips. He’ll have scratches tomorrow, but none of it matters at this moment. 
“So needy,” Phillip says, “aren’t you, doll?” 
You barely manage to whimper out a yes, sir. 
Graves hikes your knee up to your chest and pounds faster. His tip reaches the end of you with each thrust and he revels in the fucked-out look on your face. The car shakes slightly at the force of his hips but you don’t seem to mind, probably haven’t even noticed. 
“Sir, huh? Only when I fuck you, do you show me respect?” 
“More, sir–please, oh God,” you cry out, twisting your hips in small circles. 
Sweat gathers on his hairline and underneath his polo. He can feel the familiar twinge in his lower stomach and the heaviness in his balls. He’s close and Phillip wants you there with him. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, shivering slightly as you begin to suck and lick with your wet tongue. 
He takes it out of your mouth and shushes you once you try to grab onto his hand, immediately rubbing your clit in harsh circles that have you squeezing his thick length. It doesn’t take long for him to feel the sudden tightness and gush of your pussy. You flood your joined, lower bodies, making it easier for him to fuck you faster. What a sight the both of you are. A pretty girl like you being fucked silly on the hood of your car. 
“Fucking brat,” Phillip groans.
His fingers sink into your thigh and he uses your body as leverage to fuck you. You’ve gone soft and moldable in his arms, letting him fuck you at the rough pace he chooses. There’s only the wet squelch of your cunt and the whimpers of pleasure that are heard throughout the abandoned lot. 
His body goes numb and he’s finishing inside of you, holding onto your hips and forcing you down on his cock. Graves fills you up, letting his cum paint your insides. You moan and twitch underneath him as you feel him cum. 
“Take it, doll. Ta–take it, f’me,” he stutters. 
It takes all his strength not to collapse on top of you. Phillip staggers slightly from the force of his orgasm but he rights himself. He runs his hands over your thighs as to slow his heart rate, moving a hand to wipe the drool from the corner of your lips. 
“Okay, doll?” he asks after a few moments. 
“Mhmm,” you answer in a tired voice. 
“Can you stand f’me?” 
You laugh and slowly sit up. Phillip fixes your dress and helps you stand, holding onto your arms as you teeter on your high heels. 
“You okay to drive, sugar?” 
“Look at you,” you slur your words slightly, “who knew the Commander was so sweet after sex.” 
Phillip rolls his eyes and helps you into the driver’s seat, slapping your ass hard before you can enter the car. 
“Quit stealing from me. I hope you learned your lesson, doll.” 
“You just gave me a shitload of money and fucked me hard enough that my legs are still shaking,” you say, “I think I like this, actually.” 
You drive off and leave Phillip standing by his truck, his heart still beating fast and a stupid smile on his face.
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slut4thebroken · 6 months
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The Arkham Knight’s Whore
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Arkham Knight x reader
Summary | Exactly what the title says.
Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, sexual slavery??, but consensual, exhibitionism, rough sex, humiliation, degradation, praise, he hates everyone but you, possessive!jason, ruined orgasm, orgasm delay/denial, threats of using a chastity belt lol, creampie hehe, idk what else tbh.
Words | 3.4 k
Notes | Idk man one day I just had a vision.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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The voices of the men were muffled in your fuzzy brain. The only things you could focus on were the hard ground you were kneeling on, the collar wrapped tightly around your neck, and the breeze making your mostly nude body tremble. This was how most days went by— in a blur, not ever truly being able to focus on anything. Especially if it was something other than the man you were kneeling next to. 
A gloved hand started stroking your hair, making you sigh and close your eyes with a small smile. His rare acts of affection were your favorite part of the entire day. Anytime he’d cup your cheek or lightly caress your body, you always savored the touch. Especially because it was usually followed not long after by a rougher touch instead. His movements paused and he grabbed your hair, then yanked your head back until you were looking up at him. 
“Are you listening, pet?” 
“N-no. I’m sorry.” You said quietly, trying to focus on him and not get lost in the painful feeling on your scalp that was making your core ache. 
“Come here.” You were barely able to hide the eagerness in your movements as you got up to straddle his lap, paying no mind to the men behind you. You waited with your hands behind your back until he grabbed them and placed them on his shoulders. He started rubbing his hands up and down your thighs slowly, teasing you. 
“I’m going out tonight. I want you in my room, naked and on your knees, when I return.” 
“Yes, sir.” You wondered if he had something specific planned for tonight. 
“What are you looking at?” He barked, making you jump. Then, “Sorry for scaring you, pet. Not you, don’t worry.” You breathed out a sigh of relief. Sometimes you really hated when he wore the helmet. 
“You. Come here.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him point to someone behind you. Slow footsteps were heard until they finally stopped. 
“Sir?” The man asked, voice trembling. 
“You know the rules, yes?” 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Good. Tell me which one you just broke.” Even through the distortion you could hear how scary he sounded. 
“I- I looked at her.” 
“That’s right. Not a hard rule is it? If you were doing your job, your attention should’ve been elsewhere so help me understand why it was on her.” His hands stopped to grip your thighs, making you gasp quietly. 
“I- I’m sorry, sir. It won’t- it won’t happen again.” He stammered, the fear in his voice painfully obvious. 
“No. It won’t.” He grabbed the gun from his thigh and quickly shot the man. Because of the loud noise close to your ears, your hearing went a little muffled, but you could faintly hear his body dropping to the floor. 
“A reminder,” He said loudly, addressing the rest of the men in the room, “anyone looks at, speaks to, or touches her… they’re a dead man. Understand?” A chorus of “yes, sir” filled the room and he turned his attention back to you as he holstered the gun. 
“Go to my room. Someone will bring you food soon.” His voice was notably softer now. 
“Yes, sir. How long will you be gone?” 
“Just a few hours.”
“Okay. Be safe.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile. 
After you showered, got ready for bed, and ate, you were starting to get more anxious about when you should go to the floor to wait for him. You didn’t want him to come back and not find you where he wanted, but at the same time you didn’t want to kneel for that long. Eventually you decided to sit down on the floor and read. Anytime you heard footsteps outside the door, you threw your book down and got on your knees. And each time, you were disappointed when they walked right past the door. 
Finally when the door opened, you snapped your head down to face the floor, listening to it close and then his footsteps around the room. You heard the loud thud of his helmet dropping on a table and almost looked up at the sudden noise. His footsteps kept growing closer until they stopped behind you and his fingers were running through your hair. 
“Did you behave?” The sound of his non distorted voice always made you melt. 
“Yes, sir.” You wanted to ask how his night went, but you’re not sure what kind of mood he’s in yet. 
“Good girl.” His hand snaked around until it wrapped around the front of your neck, pulling your head back to look up at him. “You ready for me?” 
“Always.” When the corners of his lips turned up it was better than any orgasm you could ever have. He helped you up by your neck, then placed both of his hands on your hips, pulling you into him. He didn’t wait long before leaning down and pressing his lips to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin. You bit your lip and dug your nails into your palms painfully as you resisted bringing your hands up to touch him. When he suddenly took a step back, you barely managed to swallow down the whimper in time. 
“On the bed, ass up.” He said while working on taking off his belt. You eagerly climbed onto the bed and settled in the center before lifting yourself up onto your knees, keeping your head and shoulders down. You didn’t even hear him move before hands were being placed on the backs of your thighs, slowly snaking up. He groped your ass roughly, making your breath hitch. When his thumb brushed over your slit, you bit down on the sheets, not wanting to be loud without his permission. 
“Always so fucking wet.” He muttered, making your face heat up. “You like it, don’t you? Being my whore.” He spoke more clearly now and you let out a low whine. 
“Yes, sir.” You said through a moan, resisting pushing your hips back into his touch. 
“Good. Because I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.” You weren't sure if he was intending for it to sound literal or metaphorical, but deep down you knew that he was being completely serious. 
The blunt head of his cock replaced his thumb and he dragged it up and down your slit slowly. You didn’t have to wait long before he was pushing into you, splitting you open despite the fact that you’ve gotten used to his size after all this time. You buried your head into the sheets to muffle your moans, but he just leaned over you, making his length go even deeper, then grabbed your hair and pulled your head back up. When his hips were completely pressed to yours, he stilled, letting you adjust. Your chest heaved as you tried to relax your body, hoping to lessen the sting. After only another moment, he was moving his hips back until just the tip was inside of you, then slamming back in. You let out a choked moan at the force of his thrust but quickly put a hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 
“I want to hear you, bitch. Let everyone know who’s fucking you.” You tentatively removed your hand and he pulled out again, faster this time, and slammed back in even harder. He continued like this for a while until his hand released your hair to grab your hip. As he pounded your already aching hole, you tried to keep your head up so he could hear you. A knock at the door made the moan catch in your throat. 
“What?” He barked, still snapping his hips into you, even as the door opened. You let out a low whine and buried your face in the sheets, but he grabbed your hair again and lifted you up. 
“Sir, you wanted to be notified immediately after a sighting— He’s at the docks. Robin too.” You tried to keep your moans in as the man spoke, but he yanked on your hair, making you cry out.  
“Find out why he’s there.” His voice wasn’t even slightly breathless as his brutal pace continued. 
“Yes, sir.” When the door closed, he pushed your head forward as he let go of your hair, then roughly pulled out. Because you weren’t holding your head up at all, it fell onto the bed, making you release a muffled grunt. He smacked your ass only once before grabbing you and flipping you onto your back. 
“I thought I said I wanted to hear you.” He growled, roughly grabbing your thighs and forcing your legs open. Before you could even think of apologizing, his hand was coming down hard on your clit. You let out a choked sob and he did it again before you could fully recover. 
“I-I’m sorry! Please-” You cut yourself off with another sob as he hit you once again. Seemingly giving you mercy, he slid inside of you again and lifted your lower half off the bed to start snapping his hips into you. You watched his eyes trail all over your body and the way his lips parted as he panted quietly, but that was the only skin you could see and you wished one day he’d let you see all of him. But it took him so long before he was able to take the helmet off, and even then, for the first few times, he kept you on your knees with your face buried in the sheets and immediately put it back on after. 
As the knot of arousal in stomach grew tighter, you willed yourself to hold off your orgasm until he gave you permission. Which proved to be a difficult feat as his thrusts became more frenzied and his pants turned into low grunts and moans. 
“Please,” You gasped out, feeling tears of desperation make their way into your eyes. “Please! Sir, I need to come.” You cried. 
“Hold it or you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week.” He growled, adding to the arousal growing in your stomach. 
“I- I’m trying,” You whimpered, a few tears falling down your temples into your hair. 
“Needy fucking whore, always worried about your own pleasure. Do I need to train you again?” You whined at his words, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Or maybe I should just lock up your cunt permanently— use your other fuck holes instead.” 
“Oh god,” You sobbed out. 
“You like the sound of that? You wanna be a proper fuck toy? Just a little fleshlight for my cock?” And god- you did fucking like the sound of that. 
“I- I can’t hold it, sir.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on staving off your orgasm. He slowed to a stop, making you whine and squirm, his grip tightening on your hips painfully in response. 
“Greedy fucking slut.” He spat. 
“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, still trying to move your hips to get the friction back. 
“Keep acting up and I’ll fuck your ass right now— no lube, no prep.” He warned, making you freeze. “There you go. You can be an obedient little whore, you just need some motivation, don’t you?” He cooed mockingly and you whined with a blush.
“I’m going to keep fucking you. If you come, I’ll ruin it, then finish in your ass. Do you understand?” 
“Yes, sir.” You whispered, staring up at him with wide, tearful eyes. He resumed the brutal pace, making you cry out at the sudden pleasure. 
“Fucking take it.” He gritted, hips snapping into you impossibly faster and harder. “You want to be my whore? Then act like it.” Your hands fisted the sheets hard enough to make your fingers ache as you focused on anything but your impending orgasm. His words were making it incredibly difficult though. 
“Don’t forget, bitch— you’re replaceable. I can get a pocket pussy anytime I want and at least that toy will actually focus on my pleasure for once.” He spat, making you let out a choked sob. 
“I’m sorry— please I’m sorry, sir, I just- I can’t help it.” You cried, walls fluttering around his length as you got closer and closer. “You just feel so fucking good.” You whimpered. His grip tightened on your hips even more, making you wince. 
“I guess I shouldn’t expect much else from a slut, should I? You get a cock inside you and all that training just disappears.” 
“No- no, I’m sorry.” Despite the protest, it was getting harder and harder to prove that his statement was incorrect. “I still remember— I’m good.” You whimpered. 
“Oh are you?” He asked and you nodded in response. “I don’t know if I believe you. Not when you’re seconds away from coming without permission.” 
“I'm trying! Please, I'm trying..” You said through a sob, tears welling in your eyes. When someone knocked on the door again, your eyes widened as you whimpered. 
“What?” He spat, never slowing his pace. The door opened and you bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. 
“Falcone’s guys are there. We think he’s trying to bust one of his imports.” 
You tried to think about violent death, vomit, dead animals— anything to hold off your orgasm. But it was no use. Slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, your back arched even more in his hold as you fell over the edge. He stopped abruptly, making you whine and try to fuck yourself on his cock, which was useless because of the way he was holding you. 
“I’ll deal with it later. Let me know if anything important goes down.” 
“Yes, sir.” He said, then closed the door. The second it was shut, you were being dropped onto the bed, his cock leaving your sensitive hole almost painfully.  
“Stupid fucking slut.” He spat, making your bottom lip tremble. You couldn’t look at him, not when you knew how furious he was. “That’s what gets you off? Being watched by my men? Maybe I should bring a few in here so you can give them a real show.” 
“…No.” You whined, brows furrowed as you frowned. 
“No? But you seemed to enjoy it just now… After all, you fucking came from it.” You let out a choked sob at the venom in his voice. 
“I’m sorry, sir.” You whimpered. 
“What am I gonna do with you, huh? Clearly training doesn't work.” 
“Please— I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
“Maybe I should just lock up your cunt until you can learn to follow orders.” He gave a harsh slap to your clit and you cried out as tears welled in your eyes. 
“No! No— please. Please don’t, master,”
“Oh it’s master now?” He chuckled, making your face heat up. 
“Y-yes. You’re my master, my owner. And I’m your whore, sir.” You whimpered. 
“That’s fuckin right. But what does it say about me if I allow my bitch to disobey me?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Please punish me, hurt me— anything but locking me up.” You begged pathetically. He seemed to think about it for a moment before getting an idea. 
“I’ll let you choose your punishment. You can either be locked up for however long I see fit, or I can fuck your ass right now, without any prep or lube.” You whined and looked away from him. 
“Sir…” 
“You have three seconds, then I’m choosing for you.” He warned. You know how painful anal can be, even with some prep and lube, so you can’t even imagine what it would feel like with nothing. 
“The first one.” You said quietly, feeling like you were about to cry at the thought of what you just asked for. 
“Chastity belt it is then. I’ll have someone get one tonight. For now though,” he let your legs drape over his hips as he lined his cock back up with your hole, “I might as well come in this fuck hole one last time.” He pushed in and immediately started bucking his hips, making you choke on a moan at the suddenness. “I hope it was worth it. That was the last orgasm you’ll have for a while.” You whined and squeezed your eyes shut— it wasn’t worth it. But he knew that. 
“I’m sorry, sir.” 
“Fucking save it. Just shut up and let me use my defective fleshlight to get myself off.” A strangled moan escaped you at the blatant objectification and humiliation of you. You bit your lip to muffle as much sound as you could, trying to be good for him. 
You could tell he was close though which was making it harder. His hips snapped into your abused hole relentlessly and he was letting out quiet grunts and moans as his eyes trailed over your body. 
“Can’t believe I fuckin’ keep you around.” He muttered, making you frown. “A sex doll would do a better job than you.” You wanted to apologize and beg and plead, but you weren’t sure if you were allowed to talk. So you stared up at him with furrowed brows, your bottom lip trembling as the tears finally started to fall. “Don’t fucking cry about it, we both know it’s true.” He spat, making you whine pathetically. 
“I don’t ask for much, do I? I just want a warm hole to fuck and pretty, obedient little bitch to use however I want. I give you a bed, a collar, three meals a day, my cock, all of those silly books, but you can’t do just that in return?” 
“Permission to speak, sir?” You said quietly, your voice barely audible over the loud smacking of skin as he fucked you. 
“Since you asked so nicely.”
“I- I’m sorry for making you unhappy. I appreciate everything that you do for me and I want to return the favor however you wish… ‘m gonna be better, sir. Promise.” It was hard to get the words out with the intensity of his thrusts but you did a decent enough job for him to understand at least. 
“However I wish?” 
“Yes, master.” 
“Let’s start by making me come then, hm?” You nodded eagerly, excited for him to finally fill you up. He grabbed your hips and lifted you off the bed a few inches to start snapping into you at a brutal pace. 
“You’re my fuckin’ whore, you understand?” He growled, breathing growing heavier. “My men don’t make you come— I do. So fucking act like it.” 
“I only come for you. N-no one else.” You whimpered, fisting the sheets to try and ground yourself.. “I only serve you, ‘m your whore. No one else’s.” You agreed, nodding desperately. 
His low grunts and moans got louder until he was forcing his cock deep inside you and holding you there as his cock started twitching, spurring ropes of come against your walls. He cursed under his breath as his hips occasionally bucked forward, trying to bury his length impossibly deeper even though the pressure on your cervix was almost becoming painful. 
“Who’s whore are you?” He asked through a breath, chest lightly heaving as he panted. 
“Yours.” You were equally breathless. He leaned over you and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, making you let out a startled whimper. 
“Say my fuckin’ name! Who’s whore are you?” He all but yelled, scaring you a little. 
“The Arkham Knight’s! I’m the Arkham Knight's whore.” You rushed out and he studied your face for a moment, making you stomach twist with nerves. 
“That’s right. And unless you want to be replaced, you better start acting like it.” He leaned back up and slowly pulled out, then spread your folds for a better view of his come dripping from your hole. “It’s a shame such a good cunt is going to waste.” You blushed and frowned in response. 
“I’m sorry, sir.” You said quietly. 
“I know.” He suddenly got up and retrieved some rope then reached for your wrists. You held them out to him as he tied them together, then to the headboard. “Since I can’t trust you to not come without permission, you’ll stay tied up until I come back with the chastity belt.” You whined and squirmed, pulling on the knots to test their strength, but they were unmoving. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” 
“Hours?” You whimpered as he stood up. Your cunt was still aching and he was going to leave you like this for hours? Instead of responding, he grabbed his helmet and walked out. You let out a heavy breath and did your best to not think about anything that would get you even more worked up, but it was useless. You couldn’t help but think about what he was doing right now and what that would mean for you in the very near future. 
Sorry I lowkey don’t know how to end this lmao 
Taglist (join here)
@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @nashja @whydoyoucare866 @zurakoisanhornysimp @brooklynscherry-z @wartofart @deimks @n1ghtw1ngslvr (didn’t let me tag ->) @idkdudsworld
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arecaceae175 · 4 months
Text
Gratitude Part 1: Wild
Summary: Eight times Sky receives a gratitude crystal from the chain plus one time he gives some away
WELCOME this is inspired by this post chain by @linkvcr and @somer-writes! I'm going to post each section on tumblr until they're all done, then I'll combine (and edit lol) them for AO3 :D
This one is based on and uses some dialogue directly from the woodcarver comic by @linkeduniverse
Part 2. ART!
Wind blew lazily through the trees, rustling the leaves pleasantly. One fell and floated down onto Sky’s lap. He brushed it away and it fell next to the pile of wood chips from his latest carving. He was essentially finished; even the decorations were done. He was chipping away at any imperfections he could find– and fixing any more he created– to keep his hands busy.
A bird chirped in the distance. Sky eagerly looked up and followed its path over the forest. It was so cool. Sky racked his brain for a word to describe how incredible the bird was, but couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent. He laughed softly to himself and turned his attention back to his carving. 
“What are you laughing at, birdbrain?” Legend asked. Sky smiled at the nickname. 
“True to my name, I was watching a bird. It was cool,” Sky said. 
“Of course you were,” Legend said, as his eyes roamed the skies to find the bird himself. Sky smirked. 
“Food’s ready!” Wild called. 
“Perfect timing!” Sky said. He blew a breath over the spoon to knock off the loose shavings, then wiped it down with a cloth. It was perfectly smooth.
Sky hopped to his feet and walked over to the group with the spoon hidden behind his back.
“Okay, so it’s a light meal today, since we had that amazing soup earlier. Rice and vegetables over here, and then there’s some meat if you want. Cucco in that bowl and deer in that bowl. But I put some vegetables with protein in, so you’ll be fine without those,” Wild explained, pointing to the bowls as he talked. “Oh, and no peppers.”
Sky felt a warm feeling in his chest. Wild put so much care into their meals and ensured they catered to everyone’s individual preferences. It wasn’t easy to make one meal that suited nine people from different backgrounds, but Wild made it work every time.
“Oh, I need a spoon for the rice. Um,” Wild turned to dig through his cooking supplies.
“How about this one?” Sky said. 
Wild turned around and his eyes widened in surprise as Sky held out the spoon. His mouth dropped open slightly as Sky pushed the spoon into his hands. 
“You made this?” Wild asked. 
“I did! For you,” Sky asked. “As a thank you for always making us such good food.”
“Wow!” Wild said. He held the spoon up to his face, closely inspecting the patterns. A spark of orange flickered to life above his head. It wasn’t quite a full crystal, but the sight made Sky smile warmly nonetheless.
“This is beautiful work,” Wild said. 
Sky beamed. “Thank you!” 
Wild’s face fell from its smile. Sky mirrored the expression and stepped closer. 
“What, what’s wrong? Do you not like it?” Sky asked. 
Wild frantically shook his head and his grip on the spoon tightened. “No, I love it! I’m just… what if I break it?”
“You probably will,” Sky said with a chuckle. Wild looked up at him with wide eyes full of worry.
“But that’s okay. It’s meant to be used. If you use it enough to wear it down, I’ll know I did a good job,” Sky said. 
“Are you sure?” Wild asked. 
“Promise,” Sky said. 
Above Wild’s head, the spark rapidly expanded into a full gratitude crystal. Sky watched it with awe as it floated over and into his chest, where its warmth spread throughout his body. Sky wiggled in happiness.
“Thank you, Sky. I love it,” Wild said. 
“You’re very welcome,” Sky said, his smile bright and wide. 
Next Part ->
EDIT 01/19/2024: THERE IS ART NOW!!!! This art by @linkvcr :DDDD
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uhohdad · 9 months
Text
EXPERIMENTAL - Konig Fic Pt 3
Tumblr media
Summary: Konig helps Researcher!Reader with a new technology they’ve been developing.
Warnings: Sexual Content, NSFW, bondage, DOM!Konig, size kink, light spanking, unprotected sex, possessive!konig, praise kink, the mask stays on 😈, Reader x Konig, injury, needle torture, PTSD, talk of standard war stuff, Non-con Voyeurism. No use of y/n,
Reader gender/sex is incomprehensible cause I do it for the girls, the gays, and the theys
Word Count: 10,2k
(tbh you probably don’t need to read the first two parts so if you just wanna read this slutty chapter it should be fine lol but if you do i’ll link them)
AO3
PART ONE
PART TWO
NSFW under the cut
You’re praying that he’s getting this.
There’s a million things that could go wrong - Konig not being near his device and you’re just streaming into an empty room. Or Ghost’s device wasn’t the one that was synced with Konig’s, maybe one of the matching copies or an earlier prototype. Or worse - Konig found out about the video and leaves you to your demise as he rightfully should.
You swallow as you watch Mohawk put the his phone away in his pocket, hoping his screen wasn’t exposed to the feed’s camera, “Thanks for making me have that on my phone, by the way. Do you know how many times I was forced to watch this?”
Stop talking about it!
“What else do you want to know?” You’re more willing to give out top-secret government intel than let Konig find about that fucking video.
Ghost senses you’ve been holding back on him, and he tilts his head down to look at you from above the projection, “What’s it do?”
“Everything.” You answer, “Anything I tell it to. It’s like VR.” There’s a bit of a slur to your words. You’re still aware enough to manage the long-con, but your eyelids are getting heavier. Just have to hold out awhile longer, juggle a few things at the same time. Don’t let Konig find out about how you ended up here, but make sure he knows you’re here. Don’t let skull boy and stupid-haircut find about the transmission, but don’t let them lose enough interest to turn the device off. Don’t give away too many government secrets, but don’t give out too little to keep the soldiers from doing anymore permanent damage to your brain.
And manage all of that while coping with the current level of brain damage you have.
They look at each other, trying to figure out if they’re satisfied with your answer.
That’s good. Just keep stalling.
Everything was threatening to crash down around you, but there’s a glimmer of hope so minuscule, you think you could actually pull it off if all the pieces fall together.
You’re no longer giving up.
We can fix this. Fix all of it. Fix your mess.
You’re going to give it a fair shot, you decide, and you’ll leave it up to the universe.
Ghost cocks his head, those intimidating eyes boring into you, “And what things do you tell it to do?” You can tell he’s irritated with the meaningless answer. You steer in the opposite direction.
You give a drawn out hum, “Identify the bad guys. Heat map, heart beats ‘n all that.” You’re trying to keep your thoughts together, but there’s too many to keep up with, and the concussion still has you in its hazy clutches.
Another idea, a back up plan, you’ll call it. You can’t tell if it’s a stupid idea or not, but you’re slipping and fast, “Can I get a smoke? I’m feening.” You give a smile, the residual of the painkillers making it easy to appear unassuming.
“No. What else does it do?” Ghost is straight to the point, and it reminds you of Konig, and you wish Ghost would stop doing that because you’re trying to do something here.
Another drunken hum, “What’d’ya want it to do? I can do it.” You wave your hand at him, casually flashing your restraints so Konig would get a clear view.
Ghost steps towards you and grabs the front of your gown, yanking your face inches from his, “What does it fucking do?”
A proud smile crosses your face, “Not your mom, ‘cause I got that covered myself.”
Mohawk puts a hand of warning on Ghost’s shoulder, reminding him not to get too violent with you.
Ghost ignores the warning, his fist connecting with your temple before you had a chance to brace yourself.
Skull boy packs quite a punch.
You’re reset for a moment, blinded by a bright white and the ring in your ears makes a blaring encore.
You can tell by the warm and wet feeling under your bandages that the gash from Ghost’s gun had split open.
You don’t know how long it takes you to get your bearings, but once you do you’re almost thankful Ghost had rocked you.
You’re hoping Konig can see the urgency of the situation and your injured brain being rattled around your skull gives you an excuse to lie motionless, hindering interrogation. They know you’re not useful to them when you incapable of coherency. It’s why Stupid-Haircut is trying so hard to keep Ghost from injuring you to bad. It’s why they went through the trouble of nursing an enemy back to health. If Ghost turns your brain to soup like you’re so clearly provoking him to do, you won’t be able to tell them what they want to know.
Okay, painful change of plans.
Instead of forcing yourself to stay clear enough to manage all the details through the fog of the concussion, you’re going to force yourself into ignorance by weaponizing Ghost’s temperament against him. It’s in their best interest to keep you cognizant, and it’s in your best interest to get Ghost irritated enough to torture you until you’re unable to speak.
It’s going to be brutal, but you’ve been feeling nothing but pain at the hands of him, and you don’t think you’re far off from the cozy clutches of unconsciousness as it is - that it won’t be long until you’re unable to feel anything.
Always the masochist.
You can’t help but smile, even though it all. A genuine one, toothy and face-wrinkling, one that wasn’t for anyone else in the room, but didn’t care if they saw. It wasn’t a desperate attempt to relieve your discomfort. Not a waste of your precious energy lulling strangers into their sense of comfort. Not a weak effort to influence the opinion of you belonging to whoever happens to be in your vicinity.
You feel like you’re watching yourself descend into madness, powerless against the euphoric feeling that floods through you. Warmth coasting through your veins. You could tell it wasn’t the drugs, the concussion and the growing list of other injuries, or even the idea Konig may be rushing to your rescue any minute now.
It was because in this moment, despite everything that has happened, you can’t help but be enamored with yourself.
You?
Of course. Of course it took these conditions to pull it out of you.
It’s always the hard way with you, wasn’t it?
“If you can’t restrain yourself maybe you should let me handle it.”
“Back down, Johnny.” Ghost warns in that low, cautionary tone that can’t help leave the receiver wondering just what horrible punishment would occur if they pushed. He doesn’t even have to look at Johnny to hammer the intimidation into him. It’s only accompanied by a low extend of arm vaguely in his direction.
Neither you or Ghost noticed the way Johnny’s eye twitched or lip snarled, but he heeds Ghost’s warning.
Ghost’s eyes lock on you, and you think everyone in the room has caught on to the predicament they’re in.
Johnny, who’s been up to speed since the start, walking the tightrope of being respectful to his superior without letting him damage the value of his informant.
Ghost, who’s long lost his respect for you before he even laid eyes on you, and since meeting you has only been sinking deeper into his hatred of you. He’s used to getting information from soldiers. Out of powerful individuals that could handle a hit and that stay conscious during an interrogation session. The ones smart enough not to antagonize and beg for the brutality. Ones that grit their teeth an at least try and suck it up to maintain a scrap of dignity. Not you. He knows he needs your brain but he’d be happy to put an end to all of it, right now. Pull the plug on your project the manual way. If they can’t have it, no one can. Maybe he’d get what he wants along the way if you’re coherent enough to squeak it out, but that’d just be a bonus in his eyes.
And you. Wonderfully brilliant, even if occasionally misguided, and as much as you hate to believe it sometimes, incredibly lovable, even if Ghost is looking at you like he wants to put your head on a stick. But you don’t care about that dummy. No, you’re not even looking at him or his Johnny. Even if he takes your life from you right now, you think you could accept that. Not for any necessarily suicidal reasons, even though the concussion has definitely knocked some dark feelings loose.
You close your eyes, and the smile still hasn’t left your face, even if your sore muscles were pulling on the edges of your headache.
“Too much morphine.” Ghost says, to no one in particular, not hesitating as he forcefully grabs your forearm and digs his thumb into the skin encasing your IV needle.
You immediately hiss through gritted teeth, but he doesn’t hesitate as he takes the beginning of the needle with his other hand, roughly poking around in your arm.
You try to pull away but he’s got a grip tight enough to force your arm extended. You’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.
He removes the needle entirely before puncturing you in a different spot on your inner elbow, shaking the needle violently beneath your flesh. You gasp, pulling against his iron grip with what little strength you have.
“Where’d your smile go?” Ghost asks in a neutral tone, his eyes dead of emotion as he removes the needle before stabbing another hole in your arm.
You let out a yelp, eyes screwed shut as your other hand jerks against the restraints. You’re too focused on the sickening feeling of skewered veins to make up a good comeback.
He does it again, and your fists clench and a high grunt escapes through gritted teeth.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to set an IV.” Ghost says dryly, his eyes cold behind the mask as he thrashes the needle.
“Keep practicing.” You hiss, pitch warbling through the pain.
And he does.
It’s brutal, Ghost flaying the crease of your arm repeatedly. It’s been less than a minute but you’re sure the torture started a lifetime ago. You just have to take it, it’s all you can do. Your verbal stalling wasn’t cutting it, so you’re just going to have to opt for this instead and hope you can piss him off enough to get just a little too violent with you.
When he’s done, he jams the needle back where it was, managing to lay it back in your vein. “There we go.”
You study each other for a brief moment, before he leans in close, so close his projection becomes obscured through your head. You’re eye to eye now, nothing between you two but the mask your nose is almost brushing up against.
He grabs your face, his gloved fingers digging into your jaw with the same force he had held your forearm. He holds your head still and all you can do is look at him, brows pinched in fury as your nails dig into your palms, fists fight the restraints.
His eyes twitch as they flicker between each of yours.
“I am going to ruin you.”
You shake your head in an attempt to free your jaw from his clutches, but his grip is strong and he makes a point of forcing your head still, looking down his mask at you.
“You can give me all the information you like. I’m not stopping until it’s finished.”
Ghost finally lets you go with a rough shove. He takes the device from his ear and his wrist, discarding them both over his shoulder. Johnny catches the ear piece with a slight fumble, and the wrist remote hits the ground with a ting, rattling obnoxiously as it rolls to a stop. Johnny’s got his hands full as he yells but you you don’t bother listening to what he’s saying.
You’re too busy relaxing into the attack as you let Ghost carry you to death’s door.
———————————————————-
Even wincing is painful.
You're finally stirred awake by the feeling of a gloved hand on the back of your neck.
It’s hard to open your eyes, and when you finally do you see him, from the chest up, he looks just like a just a blurry figure. Two of them, actually, doubled vision multiplying the lone man that stood before you.
Even with your damaged vision you can tell it’s Konig, making out the telling shapes of his gear and those biceps you’ve studied so close you could pick them out of a lineup.
The hood that always intimidated you, but now fills you with a comfort like no other. You can see the light of your projection shielding his eyes.
A blinding bright light surrounds him, haloing your vision and it hurts, but you can help but keep your weary gaze fixed on him inbetween slow blinks.
You’re sure you’re dead. That you’re passing over and this is your brain manifesting some hallucination to comfort you as you transition.
You reach out to touch his hood, just to see if you can. You wanted to see if you could feel him, the researcher in you testing the potentials of your delusions. The restraints cut you short for a final time, before Konig quickly cuts your hands free with a knife. He takes your weak extended hand in his and you can feel it.
It engulfs yours, the scratchy feel of his glove wrapped around your hand, and he feels real.
His other hand retracts from your neck and reaches up to turn his projection off to get a clearer look at you. His hand comes back from under his hood and moves carefully to the side of your face, his thumb tracing a bruise on your cheek. His can’t believe what he’s seeing, his eyes darting around to the various injuries plastered on you.
“Meine liebe…”
He says, and you’re not sure if he’s speaking a different language or if your Ghost gave you dyphasia.
“Who did this?” He asks, horrified as he realizes there’s anyone out there cruel enough to do this to you.
You thought his stares were scary before, but the way his eyes glaze and turn cold as they follow the swells and bruises marking your face appears animalistic. It shoots a feeling in your gut so unnerving it confirms that you’re definitely not experiencing some euphoric deathbed hallucination.
When you don’t answer, your eyes just flicking around his features as you adjust, he asks again.
“Who did this?!”
His voice strikes an urgent and menacing tone the second time. On your recording he had been able to see Ghost’s point of view, but not Ghost. A front row seat to watch you get brutally attacked but not being able to identify the aggressor himself.
Always determined.
You reach up with your other hand to your saving grace, and place it on his upper arm, “Don’t leave.”
He hears how delicate your voice is, how you barely have the power to speak. How your hand quivered as you reached out to him, how you had squeezed his arm with what little might you had to encourage him to stay, to join you in a world where your aggressors and injuries didn’t matter, none of it mattered.
And how can he say no to you?
His eyes soften again and you can’t help but smile at the man behind the hood. You’re smile immediately turns to a wince as it forces an uncomfortable tug on your fresh injuries.
“Come here.” He says softly and he picks you out of the hospital bed with little effort. He’s got one arm secured around your back and the other is under the crease of your knees like he’s carrying you from the alter. He tilts you gently so your head can rest on his chest while he carries you to safety.
You’re wondering if you really are dead after all. It’s too good to be true, your plan working and Konig carrying you from the danger like he’s a fireman rescuing you from a burning building. You can discern the capabilities of his muscles as he holds you tight. You’re not even slowing him down, he’s still able to hurry through the hallways, guided to the exit by your device without fault.
The jostling hurts, but he’s doing his best to hold you steady, and being in his arms, resting the less injured side of your forehead against him, makes the pain all worth it.
You can hear the sounds of gunshots in the distance, not even your impaired hearing could muffle the loud pops. They must have had a full team come out to do an extraction. You thought it was a lot of to-do for little ol’ you.
Konig gets you to nearest exit, carefully managing the door as he opens it to ensure it didn’t hit you, and carries you out to the getaway vehicle, setting you down across the backseat like you’re made of glass.
“Liebe, they need me.” He looks back to the building, “Can you stay here?”
You give a weak nod, and he gives your hand a squeeze.
“I’ll be back, I promise.”
And you have his word.
He rushes back into the building while you try and rest in the backseat.
————————————-
The safe house was incredibly depressing. A rundown little two-room shack in the country, decorated with outdated appliances and furniture. The wall paper is peeling from the ceiling and you’re not sure if it was originally a drab yellow or if it had been stained from years of abuse. You can tell no one’s been around to take care of the water damage, judging from the large brown stains spotting the ceiling. There’s a kitchenette in the corner with an oven, a fridge that hums too loudly, and a microwave that appears never to have been cleaned. A worn beige couch outfitted with two dusty orange cushions that sag with age. A few generic paintings on the wall that hardly comfort you. No internet and no cell service, but there is a small box-shaped TV that you’re sure is from the 50s, the picture warped and cloudy.
Base placed you here temporarily until you relocate, your apartment now too dangerous to live in as your address was in enemy hands.
Judging by the way your supervisor spoke to you when discussing the transition, they must be in the dark on what caused the breach.
Your secret is safe for now, but there’s no telling when it’s going to get discovered. Waiting for the truth to come out has left a weight in your chest that sticks around from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep.
They had assigned you a counselor to visit you and help process the trauma of the event, but you don’t trust them enough to give them the full truth. You just tell them about the violence Ghost inflicted, walking through the nightmares that result from it. You haven’t gotten a goodnight’s rest since it all went down, often waking up in the middle of the night kicking and screaming at the vivid night terrors of Ghost at the side of your bed.
Other than your counselor, the base associate that brings grocery to restock the noisy fridge on Thursdays, and the occasional check-up from your supervisor, you’ve been totally isolated from the outside world.
You don’t care about most.
Just Konig.
He had held you in his arms and carried you to safety at the risk of his own life. You knew you didn’t deserve it after what you did, but you can’t help but daydream.
Thinking about the way it felt to have your head on his chest, the cotton of his mask brushing your bruised cheek, his arms grasping you tight - protecting you - it definitely helps distract from the uncomfortable feeling lingering by your heart.
You wondered if he knew, if he had seen himself on Johnny’s copy of the recording, but still was kind enough to do such a favor for you.
Then you really wouldn’t deserve him.
You spend all your time thinking about Konig, bouncing between the depth of your guilt and the highs of the fantasy, just as you have been since you met him.
When he visits for the first time, it nearly triggered a panic attack. You had not been expecting visitors, and you were still haunted by the precious unexpected visitors you had. You’re delightfully surprised when you peek out the window and see Konig, looking nervously at the landscape behind him when you don’t answer right away. Your eyebrows spring up in shock and you let out a verbal exclamation at the sight.
You quickly run your fingers through your hair as a last ditch effort to appear somewhat put together before opening the door, forced to tilt your head back to look at him. His eyes widen at the sight of you, and he moves, almost like he’s about to step closer but stops himself.
You force yourself to contain your excitement at his visit, “Konig, It’s good to see you.” You look down at your clothes, still donned in loungewear, “Sorry about the jammies. Come in.” You open the door for him so he can step in before shutting the door behind him. He takes a few steps into the room before stilling, taking a moment to look around.
“Sorry for stopping by unannounced.” He says, followed by a clearing his throat. His eyes linger on the old beige couch before meeting your eyes again. “I‘ve been worried about you.”
You knew you were unreachable, he couldn’t have gotten in contact any other way, “Don’t apologize, you really have no idea how good it is to see you. I’ve been thinking about how to say thank you, for what you did, but I’m not sure there’s enough words between our languages to cover it.” You put your hand to back of your neck, looking to the floor for a moment before meeting his gaze again. You give a nervous laugh, “So I guess I owe you a bottle of wine, huh?”
You can tell he smiles under the mask by the way his eyes crinkle, “Just doing my job.”
You glance down at the arms that had held you so tight and wished they were wrapped around you again.
“Thank you, Konig. Really. I owe you my life.”
“It was my pleasure.” He says as he gives his head a little shake. His gaze shifts a bit higher, “You’re healing nicely.”
You touch a hand to the gash Ghost had left from his gun. You were most likely going to have a scar, but it had closed and the swelling had gone down significantly, the previous inflamed red now a medium pink. “Ah, well thanks for noticing. You know I made those skin cells myself?”
Huh?!
He tilts his head, “That’s good, I hear store-bought isn’t what it used to be.”
You giggle and roll on your heels a bit, not necessarily at the joke but at the fact that such a normally rigid and imitating man is now being cheeky with you, and it feels so nice to break the tension a bit.
“How are you holding up?” He says, and it reminds of the way your therapist inquires, with that gentle tone that clearly eludes to the incident without directly referring to the incident.
“Uh,” You trail off a bit, touching the nasty bruise on your inner arm, large from the spread of the internal bleeding, but now faded to a healing yellow. “Y’know? It’s actually been,” You let out another nervous laugh, “awful, actually. But that’s alright. Uhm, I think it’ll get easier with time.”
He nods and his eyes dart down to the bruise you’ve been mindlessly tracing with your finger. Something dark flickers behind his eyes but quickly subsides.
“If it’s worth anything, it does.”
You give him a weak smile and you have no way to confirm but you think he does the same.
A silence falls on you both for awhile, both of you picking a random point in the room to unfocus your vision on. The silence doesn’t feel awkward, more like you both were grieving for a minute - or maybe just lost in thought. Even if neither knew what to say to the other, you were still bonding over your traumatic experiences in your own quiet way.
You’re the one who breaks the silence, your voice a bit cracked from your dry throat, “What do you do about the nightmares?”
His eyes leave you for a moment as he considers it. “I leave a book by my nightstand. For some it’s TV, others crossword puzzles. There’s no stopping it. You just have to find what calms you down after.”
You give a nod. You knew there wouldn’t be a magic cure but you still have to take a moment to process that you’ll have to be dealing with it for the foreseeable future.
There’s a long pause before he speaks again, “You dream of him?”
You swallow again, trying to make it easier for you to speak but bail, instead slowly nodding your head.
Another silence falls over you both. A longer, more drawn out one. You both get lost in thought for awhile.
When you interrupt the silence again, the words spill out of you fast, coming out in a jumble and before you can stop yourself. He had that effect on you, making you feel so vulnerable and exposed, ready to spill your guts. Deep down you knew that it’s time to rip the bandaid off. Free yourself from the guilt and the constant fear your world is going to come crashing down around you.
“Do you know what I did?”
He studies you, tilting his head, “What do you mean? About your SOS?”
His response tells you that he truly doesn’t know. If he knew what you did, he’d have known exactly what you’d meant. Regardless, you still make a futile attempt to jog his memory, hoping you won’t have to explain yourself, “How I ended up there? What caused the breach?”
His eyes squint in confusion, “I was told we didn’t know how they received your information.”
Your head tilts down in shame, and you have to look away from him.
You take a deep breath and rest your palms flat on your thighs.
“Okay, look, I’ve done something horrible. I have not been very good to you, and… that sucks! Because I really thought we could have been,” You hesitate for a moment, “friends.” You close your eyes and take another breath, “At first I thought I could keep it a secret from you, even if I believe you have every right to know, but the truth is I just can’t handle the guilt anymore. I’m exhausted waiting for the other shoe to drop, okay?”
Konig’s whole body is tense now, standing at attention as he waits for your words. You’re worrying him.
“The day we met,” You’re choking up now, the adrenaline coursing through you, causing you to shake and perspire, mouth dry, “After our day in the shoot house, I forgot to disconnect your feed.”
Your tone shifts from serious to a bit desperate, “It was an accident, I swear, Konig.” You look at him, pleading eyes begging him to believe you, “And I should have just disconnected the feed when I found it, I know,” You’re getting exasperated, “But I’m sick and curious and to be honest I just couldn’t help myself when I saw you.”
He shifts uncomfortably in his spot, and swallows hard. He knows what you mean, but he has to confirm it with you to believe it, “What did you see?”
You look away from him and to the floor. It takes you a moment to work up the courage, “I saw you getting off.” You say it so quietly, ashamed to admit it.
“I shouldn’t have watched Konig, I shouldn’t have. It was wrong and I know it doesn’t mean anything now but I truly am sorry. But I did watch and I heard my name and I’ve been wracked with guilt ever since.“
He stands still, his breathing escalating slightly. He doesn’t say anything and the silence drapes over you both for awhile.
This silence was definitely awkward.
His eyes tell you nothing and his expression is masked by the hood.
You swallow, knowing you owe him the full truth as you force yourself to continue. If he’s already disgusted with you under that hood, this will really put you over the edge.
Your fist clenches, “In a moment of pure stupidity, I kept the video.” You break eye contact for a brief moment before returning your gaze to him. “I sent it to myself.”
“Okay?” You spit, angry at yourself, “I kept it and I’ve watched it so many times because I am just addicted to the way you moan my name, Konig. I’m sorry. I heard it and I needed more. It made me feel so good, and so so terrible at the same time.”
You’re on a roll now, rambling like you’re talking about your research.
“And I have not been able to stop thinking about you!” You laugh a bit, “And I understand how serious this is. So if you want to go straight to head of command and have me discharged, I won’t hold it against you. In fact, if you don’t even feel like filing the report, I’ll pack up my things and leave now, and you won’t hear from me ever again.”
You pause, and he doesn’t fill the silence, so you keep going, the words coming out like vomit, “But there’s something else you deserve to know. When I sent the video to my phone - for personal reasons only, okay?! I was not planning on showing anyone, if that helps. When I sent the video, it opened a vulnerable point of entry for TF-141 to hack in. They… have your video. I’m so sorry, it was a major lapse of judgement, and I overlooked so many protocols, and I put our intel at risk. I put your private moment at risk. I put us all at risk. I-“
You cut yourself off, tears starting to well in your eyes. It was relieving to get it off your chest, but you knew what was about to happen. You knew you were lighting a fuse with one hand and holding dynamite with another.
“I’m so sorry, Konig.”
The tears start flowing and you’re powerless to stop them. You hoped it wasn’t coming off as a desperate attempt to gain sympathy.
For awhile you stand there, eyes fixed at the floor as you wait for his response.
Konig hasn’t moved, hasn’t said anything, just stands in his spot, staring.
When you finally look at him, eyes full of heartbreak, he maintains eye contact for a few moments, expression unreadable.
After a moments to process, he uncrosses his arms to dig into his pocket, pulling out the device you had given him on that very first day. His boots slowly cross the linoleum floor and he gently sets your device on the dinky table behind you before removing the wristband and setting it down next to the earpiece without making a sound.
He doesn’t even look back at you before he turns his back and walking out the safe house door, shutting it with a soft click.
——————————————————————
It’s been three days since Konig left you alone in the safe house.
You’re wondering if you should cut your losses and leave. Change your name & get started with a new life.
You’ve already preemptively packed up your things to make it less painful on yourself when your supervisor comes to kick you to the curb.
Even as your life is dissolved and scattered to the wind, you actually feel a lot better than you have in months. Almost like the worrying was worse than the actual consequences. At least now you can live honestly.
Nonetheless, it was still pretty painful. Your latest infatuation finding out how you so deeply betrayed them. Watching him walk out on you had left you sobbing face down in the dusty orange couch pillows to muffle your cries.
It’s late at night on that third day, and you had managed to find some respite with a surprisingly warm shower and losing yourself in blurry reruns of a game show when you hear the light ting of metals.
At first you think it’s the ringing in your ears returning, it had been on and off ever since Ghost concussed you, but you quickly realized by the uneven rattles it had been coming from within the safe house.
Your eyes scan the room after switching the TV off, first starting with the fridge that hums too loud, but quickly dart your attention over to the movement of the safe house’s doorknob jiggling.
Not again.
You try and suppress the flashbacks enough to find somewhere to hide, but the safe house is one big open room with a small obscured bedroom that was more bed than room, and you don’t think the bed is high enough off the floor to crawl under.
So instead you freeze on the dingy couch, your heartbeat deafening in your ears as you watch your doorknob wiggle in its loose hold.
There’s a distinct click and then a long pause. You don’t even see the doorknob rotate because the door gets flung open with such speed and force it slams against the wall and bounces back.
“Konig?” You fear melds with confusion as you make sense of the figure rushing in.
He’s already closed most of the gap between you when you manage to squeak out a more alarmed, “Konig!”
It’s scary to have such a large man charge you, especially one you’re so used to being docile around you, one that usually stands hesitantly by the door until invited closer.
You don’t have a lot of time to think about it. Konig grabs you by the crest of the back of your neck with one hand, his other hand lifting up his mask to kiss you without room for arguing.
You let out a surprised gasp that was muffled by the kiss, and he takes that opportunity to have his tongue greet yours. His grip is tight on the back of your neck, his fingers digging in slightly to stake his claim. The stubble on his chin brushes roughly against your skin as he takes what’s his.
Once you catch up, you close your eyes and try to match his intensity but it’s difficult to keep up.
He finally pulls away, out of breath and letting his hood fall back over his mouth, his now free hand moving to the side of your face, “I’m sorry I left you, mein schatz.” He pulls away from your face slightly with a breath, “I needed to think.”
Your wide eyes flicker between his, mouth slightly parted as you nod. “Yeah,” your voice is breathy, the shock of the kiss having knocked the wind out you, “That’s uh, understandable.”
He brings his face closer to you. His eyes shift, and you see that dark flicker again.
“You have to understand, liebe, your deed will not go unpunished.”
Your brows retract as you swallow at the threat, looking up at him with concern in your eyes and your thighs pressed together.
You’ve been nervous around Konig before, maybe even scared, but you’ve never feared for your safety. Quite the opposite, actually. Such a large, strong soldier on your team gives you a shield of comfort - he made you feel safe.
But the way his voice had lowered and his eyes tinted with something primal shoots a tingle down your spine and raises the hairs on your neck. You’re not sure what he means, but your brain is coming up with ideas faster than you can sink your teeth into the details.
You’re almost ashamed at the warm feeling of arousal that sinks to your lower abdomen.
He kisses you again, this time closed and softer. When he pulls away his face stays dangerously close to yours, “You’ve done a very bad thing, liebe. You understand?”
His voice is low and husked but holds incredible authority. You can’t help but feel like a child being scolded in the principal’s office. You nod slowly, lips pursed and eyes still rounded in suspense.
He brings his finger up to your chin, his face close enough your noses are brushing, “I can’t hear a nod.”
The knot in your stomach doubles and your breath hitches a bit, shaking as you speak, “Yes, Konig, I understand.”
His thumb strokes your cheek, but it doesn’t soothe the mixture of fear and arousal flushing your skin.
“Would you like to right your wrong?”
You take a deep breath. You’re not sure what you’re agreeing to, but you’ve been desperate to fix what you’ve done since the moment you committed it. “Yes, Konig.” You nod your head, “I’d do anything.”
A pleased hum comes from him, and you're close enough to feel the vibration. You swallow nervously, gaze hesitantly watching his animalistic eyes stare down at you like you’re his prey.
“Stay.” He orders, pulling away from you and letting his hand linger on your face for an extra moment before turning away from you.
You obey, both fear of consequence and desperation to please not allowing an ounce of will to defy him. Your eyes are still locked on him as he steps to the dinky little table he had set the device on three days ago.
You had left it untouched, making it easier to swallow by still thinking of the device as his. As if Konig had just left it behind by mistake instead of intentionally returning your property to you.
He took both carefully in his hand before returning to you, boots asserting themselves as they slowly and confidently traverse the linoleum. He holds the devices out for you to take. “Feed on. Projection off.”
And you follow his instructions, what choice do you have? When his voice is strict and he’s standing over you, intimidating stature making you feel so small and defenseless. The shake of your hands causes your fingers to fumble as you struggle with the remote, his hand held out impatiently as you stumble with fluster.
When you finally get it, you place both devices in his palm, staring up with your eyes begging for his approval.
He gives you nothing, as usual, placing the earpiece under his hood and setting the wrist piece down simultaneously.
“You stepped out of line, liebe.” Konig takes closer to small gap between you you, “You humiliated me.”
His eyes are half-lidded now, boring into you with menace.
“And now I’m going to humiliate you.”
He touches your face with his thumb again. You can’t help but flinch at the gentle touch, on edge from unease and excitement.
He gives another light huff, reveling in his ability to intimidate you.
“On your knees.” He commands, finger pointing at the floor as he slides back to make room for you.
He huffs in satisfaction at the dumbfounded look on your face. Your mouth slightly agape and stuttering - it’s dawning on you now; exactly what you have to do to right your wrongs.
He squints at you, voice leaving no room for error, “Did I stutter, Schatz?”
That sinister glint in his eye returns again, and just the sight is enough to get you to slide quickly to the floor, assuming your position on both knees, neck slowly tilting back to take him in as he towers over you.
He leans in to to cup your face again, giving it a soft yet firm pat, “Good.”
Your heart flutters at the praise, even if simply articulated.
That’s all you want to hear. That you’re good. You want to be so good for him.
You’re dripping now, Konig already having you ache for his touch.
His strong hands slide down your face, four fingers cupping your jaw as his thumb brushes your bottom lip gently. When your lips part he slides his thumb in your mouth and you oblige, obediently sucking and showing him what you can do with your tongue.
He gives a low pleased hum before removing his thumb and reaching for his belt, the buckle jingling as he unlatches it and removes it from his waist in one swift pull.
Your stare follows the belt as he folds it in half, and he muses at your worried look. He likes the way your mind wanders, always running with the possibilities. It’s what drew you to him in the first place.
He doesn’t hit you, though, just taps it against the bottom of your chin to get you to fix your gaze back on him. Once he’s got your attention, he discards the belt and reaches down to pop the button on his pants, yanking each end to get the zipper down in one smooth move.
He slides his thumbs behind both waistbands, pulling them down just enough to expose his cock. It’s rock hard and practically springs from his pants, and you can’t help but let out a small squeak and just how big it is.
You’ve seen it before, studied it endlessly, imagined it so many times.
It did nothing to prepare you for kneeling before it. Just like the rest of him, his cock intimidated you, at full attention and already leaking precum.
“Wrap your hands around it, schatz.”
You follow his orders, softly gripping his cock. You’ve studied the video of him jerking off so many times, you know exactly how to please him. You start with a loose grip, your hand sliding from base to tip at a slow pace, as your other hand cups his balls.
At first he watches, enjoying how your hands looked so small around him. He can’t help but close his eyes and tilt his head back as he lets out a soft moan.
It sounds so much better in person, and your pace picks up, desperate to elicit more from him.
He tilts his head forward to get a better view of you.
“Suck.” He commands, and you hesitate for a brief moment, worried about the logistics, before ditching your fears and giving it your best shot.
You keep your hand steady on his shaft as you guide the tip to your tongue, a slow lick clearing the bead of pre-cum that had formed.
He lets out another low moan that makes you quiver.
You press your lips to him, slowing working the tip into your mouth as you tease with your tongue.
As you work steadily down his shaft, you have to fully unhinge your jaw to fit him in to avoid teeth, and even then it’s a close call. You’re continue carefully and he seems willing to be patient with you as you get used to his size.
You manage to somewhat comfortably fit half of him in your mouth, using your free hand to squeeze the base of his shaft. You start to move back and forth, pressing your tongue against him.
He watches in awe as you take him in, not holding back in his pleaded hums and groans.
“So good, Schatz.”
Warmth pools in your chest at the praise.
You look at him with a doe eyes and a full mouth, bobbing on his cock as you slick it up.
He moans at the sight, placing a hand on the back of your head. He follows it up with another order.
“Deeper. I want to see you choke on it.”
You’re not in a position to argue, so you oblige, letting his cock slide as deep as you can, but he’s not pleased with your attempt. He tightens his grip on the back of your head, fingers laced between strands of hair, and slowly forces his cock in until you’re squeaking out noises involuntarily, eyes welling with tears.
He starts to fuck your mouth, slowly at first, but picks up the pace. He doesn’t wait for you to get your bearings or catch your breath, savoring the lengths you’ll go to please him.
“There you go, schatz, so good for me.”
The tears are steaming now as he triggers your gag reflex, and your underwear is stained with your arousal in response to being praised and used.
He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still wet with your spit, and takes a step back to admire you. Your breath quickening to catch up, the flushed look of your face, the disheveled hair. He relished in the mess he was making of the intelligent professional he had come to know.
He gives a pleased hum at how you wait so patiently for his next order.
“Up. Clothes off.”
Your breath hitched, cheeks flushing a shade deeper. You wipe the spit from your mouth and slowly stand, hands shaking with nerves.
Your fingers dig into the hem of your shirt, desperate to grip onto something, and you hesitate at his command, nervous to let him see you even more exposed.
You ignore your nerves, too willing to please Konig, and pull your shirt over your disheveled hair and discard it on the couch. Your fingers fumble with the waistband on your lounge pants, sheepishly pulling them down your thighs and stepping carefully out of them.
You stand before him in your underwear, and you can’t help but cross one arm over yourself. The way he’s staring at you, not shy about his gaze mapping your newly uncovered features. He steps forward again, close enough his hard cock brushes against your warm skin.
He gives a low hum of approval and steps closer, his hands gently running along your sides until they find your waist, staking their claim with a firm grip. He leans in and you feel the drape of his hood caress your shoulder as he brushes his head against yours, lips in your ear.
“You’re so beautiful, meine schatz.”
You close your eyes as he plants a kiss though his hood on your neck, and you can feel his breath through the soft cotton.
It’s not fair that you’re naked while he’s still fully covered. You feel so vulnerable and exposed.
You quickly understand that’s exactly what you had done to him and let out a soft whimper at the realization that this is intentional, that he’s issuing this power play as part of your punishment. You’ve had your time to admire his body, now it’s his turn.
“Bedroom, now.” The softness leaves his voice with the demand and he pulls away from you once again to get a better view of you.
The knot is your lower abdomen doubles as you turn and head to the bedroom, giving him a good long look at the back of you.
You stand at the narrow space between the end of the bed and the wall, looking up at him when he enters, waiting for his next order. You can’t help but notice the jingle of his belt as he carried it with him. He sets it on the bed and takes his time committing your image to memory.
“On your back, liebe.” The pet name doesn’t soften the domineering tone, warning you not to dare rebel against him.
You follow his order, getting up on the bed and laying down for him, your upper half propped up by your elbows.
Konig follows, crawling over top of you slowly, his massive frame engulfing you beneath him as you lean into the bed. He appears even more menacing over top of you, strong arms and legs trapping you beneath him. You can’t help the nervous expression on your face as you stare up at those hungry eyes.
He brings a hand up to touch your face, leaning forward to plant another kiss on your lips, lifting up his mask as he does so. It annoys you that whenever he pulls away the hood falls, and you can’t even get a peek at what you assume is a strong jaw.
The hand on your face slides down your neck, fingers traversing the bumps of your collarbones before he shifts down to your chest, stopping for a moment to tease your nipples to attention. You suck in a breath and arch into the touch.
He hums again, low and devious.
Your hands reach up to touch his arms, but he doesn’t let you, removing his hands from your chest and grabbing your wrists firmly. He passes one off so he can hold both of your arms in one strong grip, and you’re amazed he’s able to subdue both of your wrists with just one of his massive hands. He leans back and uses his free hand to reach for the belt at the foot of the bed, before wrapping it around your wrists and fastening the buckle tightly.
He leans in close to your face as he places your restrained hands back above your head. He takes in the way your breath quickens through parted lips, eyes wide and cheeks flush with excitement and worry. He likes making you falter, likes watching you breakdown underneath his power.
“You’re all mine.” He reminds you, one hand keeping your bound wrists firmly above your head.
You nod, and when you speak your voice comes out quiet and broken, “All yours, Konig.”
It gratifies him, judging by his self-assured laugh and the way his cock twitches against your stomach. “That’s it, liebe.”
He removes his grip on your forearm with a firm squeeze to remind you to stay, and he scoots himself back so that either leg is straddling your thighs instead of your waist. His gaze shifts down, soaking in every inch as he cups you over your underwear, his careful touch taking advantage of your sensitivity.
You can’t help but grind your hips into his teasing, already leaking for him.
“Mm, I can tell you’re enjoying this. Such a dirty little pervert you are.”
You close your eyes and let out a whine at the teasing, both verbal and physical.
“Don’t worry, liebe, I’m getting impatient as well.”
He slips his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding his fingers along your hips to tease you a bit before sliding them down, having to readjust himself as he takes them off. He repositions himself between your legs this time, letting either of your ankles at his sides.
His hands slide up your quivering thighs, spreading you open and getting a good look at you. You try and fight the embarrassment under the heat of his stare, resisting the urge to bring your bound wrists down to cover yourself.
He takes his time slicking himself up with lube - he came prepared, you noticed. Premeditated passion. Guess he has to when he’s got such a large cock.
You’re worried about the logistics, but you get the feeling Konig wouldn’t dare hurt you in this way.
Once he’s nice and slicked, he lines the tip against your aching warmth, and leans down close to you.
“Are you ready, meine liebe?”
“Please, Konig.” You whine, rutting your hips to grind against him.
He closes his eyes as he slowly works himself into you. Your suspicions are confirmed as he stops just after the tip, opening his eyes again to confirm the level of comfort displayed on your features.
Your teeth are grit, but you nod your head in approval.
He’s continues, pace so careful as he pushes himself further into you. It’s been so long since you’ve got any action, especially action from someone so well endowed, you’re incredibly tight around him. He’s studying you, searching for signs of being pushed over the limit as he takes his time stretching you out.
You can’t help let out a soft moan when he’s halfway in, just at the feeling of being filled. Your eyes flutter shut, giving yourself the ability to concentrate on the cock working into you.
It takes awhile, it does. You’re so small and he’s so big, but he doesn’t seem to mind, enjoying using you as his cockwarmer, walls so cozy and tight around him. He thinks it’s so goddamn arousing that he’s so huge you have to push yourself to take him. He likes that he’s a challenge for you. He wants to train you and shape you in every sense of the word.
But for now, he allows you take the lead from underneath him, letting yourself grind your hips down on to him at your own pace as he lets low moans escape him.
When you’re finally at the point of desperately rutting your hips against him, you give him all he needs to hear.
“Fuck me, Konig, please fuck me.”
He obliges, unable to say no to your eager and breathy tone. His fingers grip onto your outer thighs as he thrusts into you. His pace is quick, but he’s still cautious not to force himself too deep inside you. He’s a disciplined man, after all.
Even without being all the way inside you, he’s still deep enough to hit the spot, forcing moans to escape from parted lips.
“Look at me, liebe.”
You oblige, and his cock twitches inside of you at the sight of your half-lidded eyes glazed in pleasure. He grunts, his pace picking up as he ventures deeper inside of you.
You can’t help the mutters and moans spilling from you. Your hands mindlessly move from above your head to his chest, tugging on the fabric of his shirt.
“You feel so good. So good for me, schatz.”
You moan in response, and he decides he’s worked you open enough to push all the way in.
You’re cockdrunk now. Breathy moans escaping without thought, eyes unfocused and body limp to his desires.
When he suddenly pulls out you whine. “Koni- please.”
“On your front.” He commands as he sits back on his knees, towering over you.
You’re flush and out of breath as you do as he says, positioning yourself the best you can with your hands bound. On all fours, head down towards the pillows as you arch your back.
The bed shifts under him as he scoots close before giving your ass a firm smack, the gasp leaving your mouth more out of surprise than pain. He gives you a few more, alternating between your cheeks. Just enough to leave handprints behind, marking you as his own.
He lines up with you again, pressing into you without hesitation.
You both let out moans at the return of warmth. He’s less gentle now, pounding into you hard enough the sound of flesh crashing together fills the room. The creaky bed is slamming against the dingy walls and your thighs are rippling on impact. You can’t help but quiver as the pleasure washes through you.
He’s got such a rhythmic pace, slamming into you while he grips your hips tight to keep you still.
“All mine.” He growls between breathy groans.
You can't even respond, practically drooling into the pillows as Konig fucks you senseless. A string of broken praises fall from your lips, mostly nonsense. Konig leans in and leaves little kisses down your back, without breaking his pace.
“Koni, I’m gon’na- fuck, Konig.”
“Come for me, meine liebe.”
Your eyes pinch shut and a broken moan leaves your lips as you ride the waves of intense pleasure washing through you. It’s enough to make your entire body clench, your walls gripping onto Konig.
He doesn’t let up, forcing your thighs open as he mercilessly pounds you through orgasm.
He gives your ass another firm smack, and your fingers are clawing desperately at the pillows, searching for any sort of stability but you’re powerless to Konig and his forceful cock.
You’re on cloud nine, feeling so far away from your body as you’re washed up on the shores of pleasure. Konig’s strength is the only thing holding you steady.
“I’m going to come, schatz.” He warns, moaning your name just like he did on the video before he fills you up and stakes his claim deep inside you.
His fingers dig into your thighs as his muscles tense under his clothes, his thrusts and moans becoming uneven as he loses himself to the euphoric gratification.
He pauses for a few moments after he slows to a stop, taking a moment to catch his breath as he lets his cock warm inside you.
He pulls out of you with a low grunt, watching the come that spills out of you. When he releases his grip on you, you’re too weak to support yourself, sliding limp on your front and basking in the afterglow of your orgasm.
He takes pleasure in knowing he marked you, completely broke you down and disheveled you. Made you feel so good you have to collect yourself afterwards.
He steps out for a moment before quickly returning with something to clean you both up with.
He’s gentle with the clean-up, wiping away the mixture of lube and come from you while minding your sensitivity, not wanting to disturb your bliss. He removes the belt from your wrists as well.
“Konig? Cuddle.” You mutter, arm stretching across the bedspread.
You don’t see the smile underneath his hood, but after he wipes himself off he joins you back on the bed, the mattress creaking for a final time as he pulls you in a spoon. You feel so safe and small, pressed into him like this. His strong arms wrapped around you. His chest on your back. You let out a pleased hum.
“That’s going to make a nice video.” He says, removing his earpiece and turning it off as he sets it on the bed.
“You can have the real thing anytime.” You say, eyes closed with a warm smile on your face.
He hums low in your ear and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “You’re forgiven, Schatz.”
“Thank you Koni.”
You both drift off, tired out from your intense finishes.
You stay close throughout the night, but having him pressed into you unfortunately didn’t stop the nightmares. When you wake up in a panic, kicking and screaming at the latest renditioning of your mind’s unresolved trauma, Konig’s there to press his hand to your heart, telling you that everything’s okay, it was just a nightmare.
Your breath is still rapid and your heart is still pounding as you steady yourself, transitioning yourself back to reality after the night terror.
He hugs you so tight, reminding you about how he’ll always be there to protect you, that no one will ever hurt you again, he will not let anything happen to you.
You steady yourself, and he knows well enough how hard it is to calm yourself after such an immersive terrifying experience.
“I brought something for that, Schatz.”
When he leaves the room you think he’s going to bring you a book, a puzzle, something to do to distract yourself.
What he brings back makes you tense, your eyes widening at the gift. He sets it down for you, getting back into the bed and resuming his position wrapped around you, protecting you. But your eyes are glued to the gift, the full implications sinking in.
Konig had set down Ghost’s mask.
“No one will find out about your secret. I took care of it.”
You don’t need him to explain further. You know Ghost will never have the opportunity to hurt you again.
“Thank you, Konig.”
He kisses your shoulder through his hood, “My pleasure, meine liebe. Sleep tight.”
And you do.
———————————————————————-
More by uhohdad:
Meine Perle: Reader is tasked with feeding enemy prisoner Octo!Konig
HIS: Konig has an unhealthy obsession with you.
Original Works Masterlist
635 notes · View notes
writing-blog-iguess · 11 months
Text
Online Matchup
Summery: Y/n thought it would be fun signing up on dating sites, just for shits and giggles. Who knew that was one of the best decisions they made, especially when they're having too much fun talking to a certain Jason Todd.
warning: swearing, unedited I think, mentions of cancer, fluff, lots of back and forth teasing
word count: 3072
a/n: I promised myself I'd post a fic today, though it's not the one I wanted, I hope you enjoy regardless.
ao3 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Inspired by this:
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September 19
You matched with Jason Todd, say hello!
Y/N So, when you say you're looking for a partner in crime Do you mean, like, rob a bank and fight batman? Or like, cozy up on the couch with the fireplace going while it's raining while we try to finish the books we bought? Cuz, I can do the second one I dont think i could fight batman or any of his kids Or even what to, you know? They’re kind of scary …. well maybe one of them i would fight I say fight but its wont be Oh man, I am so sorry about this. This is not how i wanted to tell you that i am a rambler I’m just gonna see myself out Goodday
Jason Ngl this made me laugh So who would you fight but not really?
Y/N You can’t honestly be interested in who I would fight? No way
Jason Way you seemed interesting and i want to get to know you
Y/N … okay but you need to answer my question first
Jason: Lol fair. And it would be the second one. I too wouldn’t fight batman but for different reasons
Y/N: So you're a fighter?
Jason Nope This isn’t how it works
y/n: Fine but remember, you asked for this
Jason: Okay but it’s not like you have a plan on fighting all the batmans kids so i think im safe
y/n: …….
Jason: Oh shit you do?!
y/n: I plead the fifth
Jason: You just got a little more interesting
y/n: I’m going home
Jason: Damn and here i thought i’d finally found the love of my life
y/n: No, nope Don’t say that The more you talk to me, you’ll find the real me and then want nothing to do with me
Jason: Let me be the judge of that We matched for a reason and i want to find out Don’t you?
Y/n: Aren’t you a charmer Okay fine. 20 questions?
Jason: Sure but after you tell what you would do in a fight with the batfam
y/n: I was hoping you would drop this, damn Alright, you get the honour of telling me who you want to know 
Jason: Nightwing
Y/N: Really? Okay. well first i was thinking of just flirting my way out, but he looks like he’d flirt back and i’m not the best at it to begin with, so I’d just get all flustered Bro’s an acrobat, i aint running from him. I aint running from all of them if i’m being honest. Nah for nightwing, he strikes me as a dork in some way. I’ll talk my way out of it. And if there’s something i’m good at, it’s talking.
Jason: So your plan is to talk circles around him?
Y/N: Yes Once i figure out what type of dork he is, imma talk until he gets confused and then i’ll run away Bro won’t see it coming
Jason: I should tell my brother He’s a huge nightwing fan
y/n: Nooooooooooo No one needs to know i don’t need other people to know how weird i am Especially your family I don't want my first meeting to be ‘hey, you’re that chick that’ll talk nightwing to confusion. Man that was a great laugh’
Jason: You think this will go that far?
Y/N: Honestly? No But i have hope You?
Jason: Ya Anyways, red robin?
Y/N: You skipped red hood
Jason: Saving him for last
Y/N: Fair Hes smart, can’t really talk myself out of that one nor would I flirt He is too young and not my type So i use his weakness
Jason: There’s no way you know that
Y/N: No but I know the dude doesn’t have a regular sleep schedule.
Jason: How do you know that?
Y/N: Back when I worked at a coffee shop, I took his order a few times and watched him down his coffee while it was still hot I asked him once, why? Dude said, and i kid you not ‘sleep is for the week and coffee is god’ Ngl, i laughed and gave him a free coffee just for making my day
Jason: Shit day?
Y/N: Ugh you had no idea. I had two tests that day and a term paper due but i couldn’t get it printed in time so that was late Didn’t help i woke up on the couch, and my body didn’t like that
Jason: You in school?
Y/n: Ya, only two years in but i want it to end
Jason: Not a fan?
Y/N: Eh When did we start playing 20 questions?
Jason: Right, we we suppose to play after you finished your hypotheticals
Y/N: Curses Me and my big mouth Who’s next?
Jason: We’re still on RR
Y/N: Blah right I’ll just bride him with coffee and make a run for it
Jason: The fact that that could actually work is scary Are you sure you’re not a villain?
Y/N: Nope just an engineering student who could fight god with enough coffee and no sleep Honestly, RR’s my spirit animal
Jason: Robin
Y/N: Are you nuts? I’d turn myself in and then some ain’t no way i’m coming up with a plan for him He scares me
Jason: Why?
Y/N: I watched him fight a few times The dude has enough skill and rage to fight the justice league if need be I bet he could kill too He looks like it
Jason: Okay you're not wrong But if you had to come up with a plan, what would it be?
Y/N: Cannot believe you’re making me do this Fine Little dude may have a hard exterior, but years of reading and knowing people like him, he has a soft spot and use that against him
Jason: Do you know what that is?
Y/N: … I am going to die If robin finds this, I am dying by either embarrassment or by his hands
Jason: Come on, you gotta tell me I’m at the edge of my seat here
Y/N: Fine, but if i’m going down I’m taking you with me
Jason: But we’ve only just met
Y/N: Maybe so, but I actually like you But i’m starting to doubt
Jason: Aw come on, little bird
Y/N: Damnit I happened to be walking home and watched him sit in an alley playing with cats Must have been a slow night, he was there for hours
Jason: It was the little bird wasn’t it?
Y/N: So who’s next? Spoiler? Batgirl? The signal? Red hood? Oracle? Well, I wouldn’t fight Oracle, I don’t know who they are but I know they would win so I’m going to stay clear of them No, you know what? I can tell you my answer for all three of them I’d bribe them with cookies or something. Idk if they would take it but that’s my plan. Just straight up bribery. Who could resist cookies?
Jason: That’s your answer to everything huh?
Y/n: Yup
Jason: Even with RH?
Y/n: … He’s different
Jason: How so?
Y/N: Mm, okay but your not allowed to judge Or laugh
Jason: Should I be scared?
Y/N: Depends Anyways, i have a crush on him So I would shoot my shot and if i get turned down then at least I tried
Jason: You have a crush on Red Hood? Out of everyone there is, why him?
Y/N: You’re judging! You said you wouldn’t
Jason: I didn’t say shit Now tell me why him?
Y/N: Hell if I know But have you seen him?
Jason: I have but you don’t even see his face
Y/N: That just adds to the mystic that is Red Hood I just know he’s got a good looking face underneath the mask
Jason: You really are something else
Y/N: Sorry I’m a big fan of RH And I guess I like the thought of a mystery So if you want to end this now, I understand
Jason: Who said anything about ending this?
Y/N: Don’t know, a lot of people who seem interested in me kind of leave after they find out Either they don’t want to compete with a crush that I know have zero chance at or they just don’t like red hood and being with a fan isn’t something they want
Jason: They’re stupid I ain’t leaving for that And who knows, maybe you can shoot your shot one day
Y/N: HA That’s not going to happen I freeze up when I’m near someone I like I’d probably stutter and say something embarrassing and run away No thank you
Jason: Thought it out huh
Y/N: You have no idea Anyways, 20 questions?
Jason: I did promise You can ask a couple?
Y/N: Favourite colour?
Jason: Really? After what I did to you, your going to ask something simple
Y/N: Answer the question Jason
Jason: Green
Y/N: Thank you Favourite food?
Jason: What’s with the easy questions? Give me some hard hitting personal ones
Y/N: I will in time Now, answers please
Jason: Chili dogs
Y/N: Those things are gross
Jason: Hey, they are the pinnacle of street food You just have to find the right places
Y/N: Mmkay, if you say so
Jason: Alright, gonna have to take you to one of my favourite places
Y/N: That right?
Jason: Only way to convince you Where do you go to school?
Y/N: Looking forward to it Gotham University, you?
Jason: Not yet, but trying to Kind of hard when you were declared dead for a while
Y/N: Fucking what?! Gonna need that story
Jason: Nope, gotta reach at least level 10 in friendship to unlock it
YN: Damnit
Jason: Sorry little bird
Y/N: You didn’t need to say it so casually tho Who just mentions, ‘yeah i’ve been declared dead but haven’t done anything’ into a conversation And not elaborate on it This is bullshit, sir
Jason: It has happened to people
Y/N: Yeah, but they tell people why You just Dropped a bomb like that and say, not yet Whatever, i’ll drop it
Jason: You sure? Sounds like it’ll bother you until you get the story
Y/N: Yes I’m sure Yes it will bother me But like I said, I like you and I don’t want to be pushy I’m not a pushy person
Jason: Awe does someone have a wittle crush
Y/N: No You got nothing on RH
Jason: Now that just hurts, little bird
Y/N: Don’t you have a question you need to ask?
Jason: Are you flustered? I feel like you’re flustered
Y/N: Amazing weather we’re having Despite the rain and all
Jason: Alright, I’ll stop with the teasing For now Born in Gotham?
Y/N: No I am from Metropolis, moved here for school
Jason: Any other reason?
Y/N: Yeah, Superman kept destroying my apartment building I’ve moved three times and somehow, he always finds the building I’m living in Minute I graduated high school, I moved
Jason: But why Gotham?
Y/N: Gotham intrigues me
Jason: You’re so weird
Y/N: Thank you Since you’re not in school, what do you do?
Jason: Mechanic Didn’t really want my dad’s help so I’m finding my way in life
Y/N: Not a great relationship?
Jason: You can say that So, engineering huh?
Y/N: Yup I love building and taking things apart Have since I was little
Jason: Gonna change the world?
Y/N: Imma try but can’t really do that while working at luthor corp
Jason: Please tell me your joking
Y/N: Ah, not a fan I see Can’t blame you but I am not It was one of the first places I’ve applied to and hear back right away I accepted before getting my other interviews
Jason: jumped the gun a bit 
Y/N: Yeah I did. I wished I didn’t but oh well I’ll find something better if this doesn’t work out
Jason: Why don’t you quit now?
Y/N: I am a broke college student who needs money If I quit now, I’m not sure if I find someone to take me Plus the hours working there are helping my schooling, so it’s kinda late to switch jobs
Jason: Can’t believe I’m saying this but try wanye enterprise I hear they’re good to work for
Y/n: I plan too eventually But at the moment, this is fine The hours I have now works with my school hours
Jason: How’s working there anyways?
Y/N: Not too bad I guess I’m allowed to work on my own projects as long as I work on the assigned ones The people are nice and all but it could be better
Jason: But you don’t like it there?
Y/N: I don’t like Lex Luthor and what he represents I guess
Jason: So you believe that he’s trying to take down superman?
Y/N: I’ve seen one of their fights Nothing to believe
Jason: Must of been some fight
Y/N: Mm So What did you mean, I can’t believe I’m saying this?
Jason: You can’t be weird about it
Y/N: Oh? I am intrigued
Jason: You’re making it weird
Y/N: I am not It’s not like I said you have a crush on Bruce Wayne or something That would have been weird
Jason: Is this how you felt when I teased you?
Y/N: Paybacks a bitch isn’t it?
Jason: I hate you
Y/N: Okay
Jason: I do
Y/N: You’re deflecting
Jason: Oh my god Fine He’s my dad, well adoptive dad
Y/N: Cool
Jason: That’s it? You’re not going to fawn over him being my dad? Ask me questions about what he’s like? Ask if the tabloids are true?
Y/N: Nope Tbh, I don’t care for Bruce Like, I applaud him for what he’s trying to do for Gotham and all But, seeing him on every magazine everywhere I go gets a bit tiring He’s just another dude that people are obsessed with Who cares if he’s rich Besides, I’m talking to you aren’t I? Who cares about Bruce Wayne I wanna know Jason Todd
Jason: You know? I think I may actually be in love 
Y/N: Stooooooop You can’t say things like that
Jason Why? Cuz you get flustered so easily?
Y/N And if I do?
Jason Gotta say it’s my favourite past time
Y/N So, the reason you don’t have a great relationship with Bruce Does it have anything to do with you being dead or something?
Jason Wow WOW I cannot believe you We go from what's your favourites to hard hitting questions huh? I see how it is
Y/N I told you they were coming
Jason I just didn’t think you’d use it as a deflection tactic
Y/N Yeah I want to say sorry But I’m not I’m sure you would use anything to get attention from yourself
Jason Can’t do positive attention
Y/N Eh
Jason I hear you And yes it is part of the reason why me and Bruce are not in good terms
Y/N Mm, I’m sure he’s trying
Jason In his own Bruce way yeah
Y/N Are you?
Jason I like to believe I am Why the interest?
Y/N I don’t know Maybe it’s the fact that my relationship with my dad isn’t the best
Jason You’re dad’s not Bruce Wayne’s too?
Y/N HA Then I would not be talking to you in this fashion
Jason That is true So then what?
Y/N My mom says we are too similar to each other Got the same attitude and all I believe it Growing up, it was all your useless and you’ll amount to nothing Or he’ll ignore me, and I’d prefer that over the degrading Only time he’d show his affection was if he was drunk
Jason Wow Sorry 
Y/N Yeah It’s gotten better since I moved out Now it’s there, and I’m still processing 
Jason Processing what?
Y/N Mm It’s a pretty heavy topic to get into with someone you just met
Jason Can’t be worse than me being dead for months
Y/N Months?! How many?
Jason Oh damn You are a lot easier to talk with then who I normally socialize with
Y/N I shall take that as a complement
Jason As you should And no, I will not be elaborating 
Y/N Alright fair But I will get the story
Jason Mm, I’m sure you will So? Gonna answer my question
Y/N Last year he was diagnosed with cancer Not sure what it is, but it already spread
Jason How long did the doctors give him?
Y/N He didn’t want to know Can’t blame him for 
Jason Sorry about that
Y/N Yeah
Jason You don’t sound to hurt about it
Y/N Like I said, still processing it so I don’t know how to feel With the childhood I had, I don’t know how too But I know when it comes down to it, my emotions will hit me like a truck when the day comes
Jason Well, soak up as much time as you can before you have any regrets
Y/N Trying to He is just making it impossible Whoo boy! That was a lot of emotion for one night I think I’m going to eat some ice cream and binge watch my favourite show
Jason Sounds fun, wish I could join but I promised my brothers with help
Y/N How many do you have?
Jason Do you read anything about the Wayne family?
Y/N Nope What I know about him is what is whispered between my classes and work and even then I don’t listen to them
Jason Really committed on not caring about him, huh Four brothers and three sisters
Y/N Big family
Jason Bruce likes to adopt
Y/N I can tell Anyways, have fun tonight
Jason I’ll try Would you be interested in talking some more?
Y/N I would love to
690 notes · View notes
sailor-aviator · 7 months
Text
Don’t Hang’em Til Noon: Chapter Four
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Don’t Hang’em Til Noon: Chapter Four
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?
Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Assault, Fighting, Violence (against women and others), Jake Seresin, Firearms, Blood. I think that’s it?
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: I hope you guys appreciate me neglecting my job to write this lol I’m kidding, we were so slow, I would have been bored to tears otherwise. Just giving you guys a heads up now that I’m going to try and pre-write as much as I can over the course of the next couple of days in preparation for next week when I’ll be attending my best friends’ wedding. As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!
Series Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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“I swear, that man would lose his head if it weren’t attached to his shoulders,” you grumbled to yourself, as you made for the front door of your home. You had just finished cleaning up the mess from preparing breakfast when Benjamin had come running down the stairs in a frenzy.
“Benji, come eat,” you had said, gesturing to the table that was already set. He had shaken his head, turning in circles as he searched for his dress coat.
“I can’t, Scout. I’m running late for a meeting with a client,” he had said breathlessly. You rolled your eyes, plucking his coat off the back of the chair he had set it on the night before when he had gotten home. You held it out for him, and he shot you a grateful smile as he shrugged it on.
“At least grab an apple on your way out,” you had argued. He plucked a granny smith from the bowl you had set out on the table, gesturing at you with it before making a beeline for the door.
“I don’t know what time I’ll be home tonight,” he called over his shoulder before the door closed with a thud behind him.
Now, here you were hours later with his case files clutched in your hands and scowl plastered across your face. You slipped past the door, and making sure it was secured behind you, you made your way into Maverick.
It was nearing the end of summer, and a surprising chill was beginning to creep its way into the air. You made your way quickly to Benjamin’s law firm, giving polite smiles to those you passed.
You stepped into the firm with the files tucked tightly in your arms. Natasha came strolling out from the back with a polite smile that turned genuine at the sight of you.
“Good afternoon, Scout!” She grinned, gesturing for you to join her in the seating area. You did so, taking a seat on a leather armchair as she sat in the matching one opposite you. “What brings you by today?”
“Benji forgot some of his files,” you sighed, showing her the file. Natasha chuckled with a roll of her eyes. If anyone understood how exasperating your brother could be, it would be her.
“He was up late working again, wasn’t he?” She asked. You shit her a knowing look before the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. “That man will blow away with the wind, I swear. How he manages to keep this place in order is beyond me.”
“He may be a tad bit scatterbrained, but he takes his job very seriously,” you smiled. You were surprised he hadn’t come out to see what the commotion was about yet. “Is he around?”
“No,” she grimaced. “His client insisted on meeting at the saloon.”
“I see,” you said, standing up. Natasha followed suit, reaching her arm out to you.
“I can take the files and give them to him when he gets back?” She offered.
“That’s alright,” you declined. “I could use the exercise. You said he was at the saloon?”
“I did,” Natasha confirmed hesitantly. “But Penny isn’t there today.”
You stared at her. “And?”
“It's just that,” she started nervously. “The patrons can get pretty handsy when Penny isn’t there. Not that I don’t think you can hold your own, but I don't want to see anything happen to you should they get any ideas.”
“I’m sure it will be fine, Nat,” you smiled. “I’ll just be in and out. I don’t plan on staying for long. I still have things I need to do back at the house after all.”
Natasha chewed on her bottom li, seeming to contemplate her best course of action. Finally, she sighed. “If you’re sure.”
“I am,” you stated firmly, already moving towards the door. “I won’t take up any more of your time. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”
“Spending time with you is never a bother, Scout,” she grinned. “Stay safe, and give your brother hell for me when you see him!”
You offered her a final wave before stepping back out onto the street. You turned right onto the street, setting your sights on the saloon.
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The atmosphere differed from your first time inside the large building. Instead of Penny standing behind the bar with her usual easy going smile, a tall man with glasses stood and waved a greeting at you.
“Welcome in, miss!” He smiled. You recognized him from the other day.
“I know you,” you said carefully, slowly making your way up to the bar as you studied him curiously. “You’re a member of the Dagger Posse, correct?”
His smile turned sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes’m. My name is Bob, and you’re Scout right?”
You hummed in affirmation. “And Penny trusts you to run her business?”
He laughed at that, almost catching you by surprise. “I get why you find that hard to believe. If I was in your shoes, I’d think that Penny had lost her mind or something.
You chuckled at that. “I suppose it says something about your character that Penny trusts you enough to leave the saloon in your hands.”
“She does,” he nodded. “I don’t take people’s trust for granted.”
“That’s good to know, Bob.”
He smiled at you and then moved like he was going to say something, but he seemed to think better of it. You arched an eyebrow at him as he shifted on his feet, a blush crawling up his face. “What is it?” You asked.
“Penny doesn’t trust just anyone, ya know?”
“I know that,” you nodded. “What of it?”
“The reason Penny trusts me is because I keep the others out of trouble.”
You laughed at that, and he frowned. “I’m sorry, Bob. I don’t mean to offend. It’s just that, well, if they’re out robbing banks and breaking laws left and right, I’d hate to think about what they’d be doing without you.”
“It’s not like that,” Bob sighed. “They aren’t as bad as you may think, Scout. I know Hangman can be…a lot, sometimes. But, everything they do is out of survival.”
“Right,” you scoffed, causing the frown on Bob’s face to deepen.
“I’m serious, Scout,” he continued. “Penny mentioned that you came from Baltimore. I don’t know much about how things are done over there, but I know enough to know how different things are there compared to here. Work isn’t as steady out here as it is back East. Good men do bad things in order to keep their families safe and fed.”
“What’s your point, Bob?” You asked with a heavy sigh. He offered you a kind smile.
“Try not to be so hard on him? I know you’re used to things being a certain way, but believe it or not, he is trying.”
You didn’t have to ask who he was referring to. You mulled over his words carefully before nodding slowly.
“Alright, Bob,” you smiled finally. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His own grew, and he knocked on the wooden top of the bar as he leaned back.
“Thank you,” he said. “Now what brings you by here today?”
Before you could answer, Bob suddenly straightened up to his full height, a cool look on his face as he looked past you. Your brows furrowed in confusion before you felt a warm body push up against you. You whipped around to find a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair leering down at you. The cold, empty look in his black eyes was warmed over by a look of unbridled lust. He gave you a once over, eyes pausing along the curves of your breasts and hips.
“Howdy, darlin’,” he drawled, making the hair on your arms stand up.
“Can I help you?” You asked him coldly. You saw Bob shift in your peripheral as a couple of more men crowded you on the opposite side. The man let out a low whistle.
“Why so cold, honey? I jus’ came over here to introduce myself. Name’s Isaac.”
“Charmed,” you bit out, glare intensifying as he leaned in closer.
“Y’ain’t gonna gimme yours?” He laughed.
“I don’t see why you would need it,” you state simply, clutching the folder in your hand tightly. You cast a glance over to Bob who was eyeing the group of men wearily.
Isaac smiled, the gesture hollow. He reached up and tapped your cheek lightly, and you balked at the gesture. “Eyes over here, honey.”
“I’m going to ask you once to please stop calling me that,” you bit out between clenched teeth.
“Or what?” He grins.
“Or you won’t like what happens.”
Isaac let out a booming laugh, his companions letting out chuckles of their own. You saw movement in the corner of your eye. You once again chanced a look over and saw two of the men had crossed over to the other side of the bar. The two men had Bob caged in between them, and his eyes darted rapidly back and forth between the two of them. Isaac grabbed your chin tightly in his large hand, forcing your head back to look at him. “What did I just say about those eyes?”
“Let go of me,” you hissed, earning another chorus of laughter from the group of men.
“A feisty little thing you are,” Isaac chuckled, leaning so that his breath fanned over you. It reeked of cheap liquor and stale tobacco. “I see why Hangman has his eye on you.”
“What?” You asked, brow furrowing at his comment.
“Just so you know,” he grinned, “you have him to thank for this.”
Before you could question him further, he grabbed you by your hips and slammed you up against the bar. You felt the air leave your lungs and a flash of pain shoot up your spine. You saw Bob struggling against the two men beside him as they pinned him back. His eyes blazed and nostrils flared as he tried with all his might to break free of their hold. Your brief moment of confusion allowed Isaac to push his way in between your thighs. You felt the hot length of him press against you, and you started to struggle, clawing at his arms. Tiny ribbons of blood began to flow down his arms as he bared his teeth down at you in a crazed grin.
“That's alright, Kitten,” he laughed. “I like a bit of pain with my pleasure.”
He leaned down, slanting his lips on top of yours, and you felt the hot sting of tears behind your eyes. He thrusted up into you, causing you to gasp and cry out. He took the opportunity to force his tongue into your open mouth, and you almost vomited at the action. Without thinking, you bit down on the offending protrusion, the taste of blood filling your mouth. Isaac lurched back with a yelp, grabbing at his mouth. He glared down at you.
“Bitch!” He spat, backhanding you. Your face flew to the side, a flash of white hot pain radiates from your cheek where one of his rings had made contact, cutting you in the process. You felt blood begin to trickle down your cheek, and your tears threatened to spill over. Isaac gripped your hair roughly, slamming you back down onto the counter.
“You’re going to regret that,” he hissed at you as you fought against the dizziness that threatened to consume you from the force of his actions. Your tears began to flow freely down your cheeks as the larger man grabbed at your shirts and skirts, ripping them in a bid to get them off of you.
“No!” You screamed, renewing your efforts. Isaac ignored you as he licked up the column of your throat. Your sobs racked your body violently, legs kicking at him as he moved to undo his belt buckle. You closed your eyes in an attempt to shield yourself from what was about to happen.
Just when you thought all hope was lost, a resounding click sounded in the room. Isaac stilled against you, and you cracked your eyes open to see the barrel of a pistol pressed to his temple. Turning, you saw Jake on the other end of the weapon.
His green eyes were filled with the intention of murder as his lips curled in a sneer of pure wrath. His body was drawn tight, deathly still as he waited for Isaac to make his move. He looked every bit of what you imagined an avenging angel would look.
“Let. Her. Go,” he ground out. Isaac spared a glance at you, and the gun pressed harder into the side of his head. Slowly, the older man pulled away from you, and you scrambled to sit up on the bar. You now saw the rest of the Daggers standing behind him with their hands on their own pistols. The two men behind the bar had let go of Bob who was now moving to your side. You heard footsteps begin to descend the stairs, and you looked to see Maverick, Benjamin, and an unfamiliar older man stop as they took in the scene before them.
“Scout?” Benjamin said, eyes widening in shock. You let out a shaky breath, turning back to watch Jake who had yet to take his eyes off of Isaac. The two stared each other down.
“Hangman,” Isaac finally sniffed in way of greeting.
“What are you doing here?” Jake snapped. Isaac rolled his shoulders back casually as if there wasn’t still a gun aimed at his face.
“Well,” he drawled, “I came to collect retribution for what you took from me, but then I saw you with this pretty, little thing the other day, and I figured this would make for a good trade.”
Jake’s nostrils flared, a dangerous glint in his eyes as Isaac spoke. “I didn’t take anything that you couldn’t replace.”
“I disagree,” the other man hummed, picking a piece of lint off his shirt. “You wounded my pride, Hangman. And what better retribution than taking your woman?”
Jake’s jaw clenched, and you saw Maverick move out of the corner of your eye.
“Jake,” the older man said gently. Jake spared him a glance before focusing back on Isaac. Maverick continued, “Not here, son.”
Jake looked at him, and when Maverick gave a pointed glance at where you sat, frozen, he turned his attention to you. You must have looked a sight because Jake’s jaw clenched again. You could feel the tears still streaming down your face and mixing with the blood that still dripped down your cheek.
“Jake?” You called to him softly, uncertainly. He took several deep breaths.
“The only reason you’re leaving here alive,” he rumbled, nodding his head over at you, “is because she’s here.”
Isaac watched him for a moment, the two of them not breaking eye contact. Isaac huffed out a light chuckle before turning towards the door. He gave you one last glance before smirking, gesturing for his men to follow.
“You best keep an eye on her, Hangman,” he called over his shoulder. “Would be a right shame if something were to happen to her while you weren’t lookin’.”
Jake said nothing as they filed out. One man stopped beside Bradley, casting him a sideways glance. “Rooster.”
“Jeb,” Bradley replied coldly. The two shared an unspoken conversation before the man followed the rest out the door. As soon as they were gone, Benjamin rushed to your side.
“Scout, what happened?” he cried, checking you over. You looked down at yourself, noting how the collar of your white, cotton shirt hung by mere threads off your shoulder. You frowned at the tiny drops of blood that had fallen onto the ruined fabric.
“I,” you swallowed thickly, “I was coming to give you the casework you forgot at home this morning. I thought it might be important, so…”
You trailed off, your eyes taking in the multiple tears of your skirt, a new wave of tears pouring from your eyes. You jumped when Jake appeared in front of you. His eyes were still blazing, but you saw worry mixed in with the rest of the emotions still swirling within the different shades of green.
“What the hell were you thinking,” he seethed.
“What?” You blinked. He took your shoulders in his hands, surprisingly gentle for how angry he seemed.
“How many times do I gotta tell you that you need someone with you? Especially in here?” he growled.
“I didn’t think-”
“You’re right,” he snapped, his grip slightly harder as his frustration with you grew. “You didn’t think, and you almost got hurt because of it.”
You felt your own temper start to build as you stared up at him.
“Stop treating me like I’m some helpless child,” you snapped at him. Jake barked out a humorless laugh.
“You’re not a child, Scout,” he flung back at you. “And, that’s why it’s so damn frustrating when you do stupid shit like this.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly you can’t,” he seethed. Your jaw clenched, and you practically threw yourself onto the ground. You pushed past him with a glare and started for the door.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, already moving to follow you. You whirled back around, stopping him in his tracks with a finger to his chest.
“I’m not going to sit here and let you insult me,” you spat at him. He grabbed your hand, and pulled you in to him.
“Have you learned nothing from what just happened?” he glared down at you. “If we hadn’t already been on our way in to see Mav, well shit, Scout. Isaac would have had you every which way and then passed you around to his crew. Don’t you understand that?”
“Let go of me,” you ground out, trying and failing to pull your arm free of his grip.
“No,” he stated firmly, eyes set in a determined bid to win this argument. You gave another tug, but his grip didn’t falter.
“You don’t seem to get it, darlin’,” he sneered. “This ain’t Baltimore. People don’t hide their ugly nature behind polite smiles and fancy clothes. People here take, and they sure as shit don’t care who sees them do it."
He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "Tell me you understand.”
You nodded, still glaring furiously up at him. He shook his head with a wry smile. “Uh uh, sugar. Need to hear you say it.”
“I understand,” you snapped. He finally let you go, and you wrenched your hand back. The two of you stared a beat longer before you heard Benjamin clear his throat.
“I’ll take you home, Scout.”
“No,” you said automatically. “You’re busy. I can see myself home.”
“Not happening,” Jake said. “I’ll walk you home.”
You went to say something, but he fixed a hard stare at you, cutting you off. “Don’t even try to argue with me right now, Scout. I’m taking you home, and that’s final.”
You huffed, turning on your heels and stormed out of the saloon, Jake hot on your tail. The two of you walked in silence, townsfolk casting you wide-eyed looks as you passed. When you reached your front door, you whirled around to face him.
“I’m home,” you spat. “Safe and sound. Are you happy now?”
Jake stared at you, his lips set in a hard line.
“The boys and I were plannin’ on leavin’ for an excursion tomorrow,” he said, “but I think I’ll stick around.”
You scoffed. “If you’re worried about what Isaac said, don’t be. It’s you who should be worried, actually.”
“Oh?” Jake chuckled. “And why is that?”
“I’m only telling you this as a way of thanking you for your help in the barn the other day,” you began, Jake arching an eyebrow at you. “But there’s a U.S. marshal after you and the other Daggers.”
Jake barked out a laugh, and you stared at him in confusion. Jake looked at you with a wide grin. “I ain’t worried about a U.S. marshal, pretty girl.”
“How are you being so cavalier about this?” you snapped, placing your hands on your hips.
“Because they’re always after us,” he shrugged. “Besides, I can take care of myself. You on the other hand-”
“I can take care of myself just as well as you can,” you huffed. All humor dropped from Jake’s face as he gave you a look that said he clearly didn’t believe you. You scowled at him, stalking into the house. He followed you as you marched into the kitchen. You grabbed the rifle that Benjamin insisted you keep by the back door “just in case,” and walked out the back door. Jake kept following, and you stopped just outside on the porch.
“Do you even know how to use that thing?” He chuckled. Wordlessly, you scanned the yard, finding a forgotten bucket sitting on the fencepost about fifty yards away that you must have left out that morning. You raised the rifle to your shoulder, took aim, and-
BANG.
The bucket went flying in the air, a hole where you had hit it dead center. You let the rifle drop from your shoulder as you held it by your side. Turning, you caught the look of shock and intrigue that graced his face.
“He caught me off guard today,” you said. Jake looked at you, wonder shining in his eyes. “He won’t do it again.”
Jake studied you for another moment before nodding his head slowly.
“Alright, Scout,” he relented. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
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kumquats-are-gay · 5 months
Note
sparing with Johnny, and you pin him down only to find that he's rock hard, maybe some teasing/sex? idk idk
(TF YOU MEAN “idk”?? THIS PROMPT IS HEAT AND I’M ‘BOUTTA COOK!! 🔥💯😤)
Johnny Cage x gn!reader (SFW/NSFM)
NOTE: This will be a two-parter because I just couldn't wait to post what I had already, lmao. This first part only has sexual themes and foreplay, while the second part will have actual smut (also, while this first part is totally GN, the second part will be mentioning afab anatomy, but I will still be using GN pronouns). I'm sorry this took so long to get to; I've been working almost every day for the past two weeks and ya girl is tired, lol. Was super excited to write for this though! :D
ALSO I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW ACTUAL FIGHTING WORKS I JUST MADE SHIT UP LMAO PLS DON'T COME AT ME
Pasted straight from Google Docs and NOT proofread, so please excuse any grammatical/continuity errors/syntax and formatting. I am also still VERY much an amateur writer so pls go easy on me <3
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51869623
Come On With a Come-on
         For a ‘professional’, Johnny Cage is about the least professional person you’ve ever met. Propriety must be a foreign concept to him with how frequently he flirts with you, especially on set—you know, in front of all of your colleagues and crew? The man was shameless in his relentless pursual of you, like a goddamn dog with a bone. And worst of all? You liked it, and this fact frustrated you to no end. 
         How could you possibly be attracted to someone who is so insufferably arrogant, loud-mouthed, and impossibly far up his own ass? An ass that, admittedly, you find yourself staring at whenever you think he isn’t looking. But, because you’re an actual professional, you’ve rebuffed his every attempt to seduce you thus far. Plus, you had a reputation to keep and dignity to hold onto; you weren’t sullying either when the likely outcome would involve your face and name on countless tabloids. 
         Without warning, his stupid, smug, and incredibly handsome smile invades your mind, and you suddenly find yourself wanting nothing more than to punch it off of his unfairly chiseled jaw.
         …or maybe kiss it off.
         “Grah!” you abruptly shout while burying your hands in your hair, momentarily tugging at the roots in annoyance. God, you had a problem. 
         Bzzt.
         “Huh?” You look down at your hip where your phone had just buzzed in your pocket. You pull it out and flick your finger across the screen to unlock it, then tap on the messaging icon.
         Johnny Cage: Hey, wanna spar later? 👊👊
         You raised a brow. You and Johnny worked in the same sphere for a reason. Action films were your guys’ bread and butter since the both of you knew how to fight as well as do your own stunts. 
         You and Johnny hung out casually here and there, but the two of you had never sparred before. You sensed an opportunity in his proposal, though: an effective way to get your frustration out on the source of said frustration. Shrugging, you figure, ‘why not?’
         You: Yeah, I’m down. But I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into b/c I won’t be holding back!
         Johnny: Woah, don’t go threatening me with a good time ;) 
         Your stomach twirled in unbidden delight at the cheeky response, and you internally chastised yourself for being so easily affected by this man. You and Johnny sorted out the details of your meetup—his place, late afternoon—and returned your phone to your pocket. You would just have to kill some time until then.
~~~
         “Of course you would have your own gym, and of course it’s fuckin’ huge,” you joked with a bit of sarcasm, yet enough lightheartedness as to not offend. Though, you doubt Johnny could be so easily offended; he’s got way too much self-confidence (for better or for worse) to be put down that easily.
         “Oh, honey, you haven’t seen ‘huge’ yet,” he boasted with a smirk. The wink that followed did nothing to abate the heat that was slowly taking over your body, but you did your best not to let the effects show. Since when were easy, immature innuendos such a turn on for you? You just closed your eyes and shook your head.
         “Alright, I am definitely knocking you on your ass for that one.”
         “Hah, see if you can, sweetheart!”
         The two of you stood in your  respective corners and took your stances. One quick little countdown later, and the game was on. 
        You knew Johnny was a very good fighter being a martial arts expert and all, but you didn’t realize he was that good. In all honesty, you figured he was more bark than bite, and that you’d have no real problem going toe-to-toe with him. Unfortunately, it seems like you may have underestimated him. It turns out that Johnny Cage was one of the rare few you had met who could back up their arrogance. Bully for you.
        Furthermore, this shithead was fighting dirty! Well, okay—technically he wasn’t fighting dirty. He was just talking after all, and there’s nothing wrong or “illegal” with that. But it was a dirty tactic regardless, and it only infuriated you further with how helpless you were to try and block him out.
        You pivot sharply on one foot and  use the momentum to lift and swing the other around, aiming the kick at his head. You expect him to duck under such a high-reaching maneuver—maybe he’d follow up with a low sweep with your single foot planted on the ground—so you prepare yourself to counter this. See, before you went into acting, fighting was your primary activity; you won many tournaments and managed to make a decent living off of it. One of the main things you were known for were your notoriously powerful kicks; few would risk trying to outright block them rather than moving out of the way.
         You must have forgotten who you were up against; that was the only reasonable explanation for your short-sightedness. You were not distracted by him or anything like that, thank you very much. Johnny-fucking-Cage just lifts an arm and grabs your leg. With one hand. Like it was nothing.
         The impact creates a loud smack! that briefly leaves you dumbfounded; you felt the force of that blow against his palm, and it was enough to leave the skin there tingling unpleasantly. Johnny didn’t look phased in the least bit with a crooked smile dancing across his handsome features, just gripping your ankle. Casually. Like you weren’t currently being held in the near-vertical splits.
         Johnny took this fleeting opportunity to give you a quick once-over, and his smile only grew. “Nice legs,” he quipped, “bet they’d look a lot nicer over my shoulders.” You openly gaped at his brazenness, and he used your shock to his advantage, flipping you in one fell swoop. You grunted when your back hit the mat underneath you, but the heat that overwhelmed your person (caused by your anger and fury, obviously) had you back up in a flash.
         “Best two out of three,” you nearly seethed. Johnny had the audacity to appear as anything but intimidated. In fact, he seemed rather amused.
         “You know, you’re like, really hot when you’re mad.”
         You nearly flung yourself at him in a mindless bout of rage, but caught yourself only a split moment before you could make such a devastating mistake. A delightful idea quickly sprang to mind—two could play at this game. 
         You kept up the facade of indignation and outrage in order to trick Johnny into thinking that you actually were going to make that blind charge at him. You stepped off of your dominant foot, using the momentum to make a lunge for him. He braced himself to counter your head-on attack, but you feigned right at the last possible second, swiftly gripped his shoulder with your left hand, and brought your right leg in against the back of his knee to buckle it. Johnny was quick to recover, though, keeping enough of his balance to twist and grapple with you as his leg nearly gave out. 
         Ah, so it was time for plan B.
         Before he could finish off the move, you brought your face right up to his, making sure that the two of you were making eye contact, and looked at him with sensual purpose. It was almost enough to disarm him, so to ensure you had the upper hand, you threw him another curveball with a breathy, “I wonder if you fuck as good as you fight.” 
         That did the trick. Johnny’s mind was sent reeling with your seemingly out-of-pocket comment, and you jumped at the chance to knock him flat on his ass. Johnny got the wind knocked from him as he landed with a resounding thump. Not wasting a minute, you straddled yourself across his hips and held his wrists against the floor mat. While Johnny had more raw strength than you, you hoped that the KO would leave him dizzy enough to keep him subdued.
         “Ha! Gotcha!” you barked out in triumph. Johnny just blinked up at you in a daze as his response. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the taste of your own medi-” you had cut yourself off when you felt something stiff beneath your pelvis. ‘What…? Wait, is he…’
         “Are you hard right now?!” you squawked incredulously. Johnny just shrugged his shoulders and gave you an audacious smirk, as if to say, ‘Uh, yeah I guess so. What about it?’ You were flabbergasted. “I can not believe you right now!” You released his wrists and made to get up, but he grabbed your hips before you could get away. Damn it, his body was so warm, and…holy shit he felt big.
         “Woah now, hang on just a tick,” he spoke like he was trying to soothe a startled horse. This fucking asshole! Why, just why did you have to fall for him? “It is very difficult not to pop a boner when I’m getting up close and personal to the most gorgeous person I know,” he spoke with an immense amount of charm and a surprising measure of sincerity. Your eyes widened comically before you squinted at him with a healthy amount of suspicion. 
         “Oh, really now? And I don’t suppose you’ve used that line with every other person you’ve taken to bed, hm?”
         Johnny just sighed like he was the exasperated one here. “Darling, I’ve been laying it on thick for half a year now. There’s no way I’d still be after you just to get into your pants.” He looked at you with this sort of ‘duh’ expression on his face, like he couldn’t possibly understand your confusion. “I mean, don’t get me wrong: you’ve got just the kind of body that I love,” he added, and you nearly clocked him then and there, but you relaxed again as he spoke further, “but I’ve come to really like spending time with you. There’s never a day that I don’t look forward to working with you on set, you know.” And, just like that, you felt like the stupidest person on the planet for denying yourself something that you evidently could have had for a long time now. 
         You hung your head low and shook it from side to side in disappointment of yourself. You fool. You buffoon. You absolute imbecile. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Johnny took this the wrong way, looking offended, and opened his mouth to say something. However, you were quick to shut him up with a short yet firm kiss of which he wasted no time in returning. He ground his hips against yours in short, desperate thrusts like there would never be another chance to do so, and you eagerly mirrored his movements like they might be your last. Without warning, he rolled the two of you over to flip your positions. Sprawled out beneath him with your hands held beneath his own, Johnny thought you looked like a dream.
         “By the way, I think you’ll find that not only do I fuck as good as I fight, but I fuck like I fight, too—hard n’ fast,” he intoned in a voice nearly an octave deeper. 
         You squirmed in anticipation at his words, and retorted with equal huskiness, “let’s see it then.”
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skyward-floored · 6 months
Text
Whumptober Day 30: “Not much longer...”
Downfall duo!!! A shorter fic, but I think I’m burnt out lol
Read on ao3
Warnings: blood & injury, a little intense
————————————————————
“C’mon Legend, not much longer,” Hyrule grunted, and Legend moaned, a hand pressed tightly to his middle. “We can stop soon, we just need to cover a bit more ground.”
“Can’t stop,” Legend breathed, flinching as something snarled in the distance. “Th’ll find you, keep going.”
Hyrule didn’t bother arguing, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation.
A monster howled somewhere nearby, closer then the previous sound, and Hyrule tried to quicken his pace, dragging Legend through the dark woods. He didn’t know why or how the monsters had mistaken Legend’s blood for his, but they were being hunted because of it.
And he was so low on magic that if he tried to heal Legend, Hyrule wouldn’t be able to run any more.
Legend stumbled, and Hyrule tightened his grip, Legend letting out an unsteady breath.
“Hang on Ledge, hang on, we just need to put some more distance between them,” Hyrule breathed, and Legend nodded, his face pale from what Hyrule could see of it. The lack of snarky reply made his heart beat faster then it already was, and Hyrule tried to speed up even more.
They were in his time he knew, but he didn’t know this area as well as some others, and couldn’t remember any safe spots anywhere close by. There was a little voice in the back of his head telling him that they were moving too slow, that they wouldn’t make it, that they’d be caught and Legend would be killed once they figured out it wasn’t his blood that they wanted, but Hyrule forced it away.
They could make it.
Legend suddenly stumbled, dropping in Hyrule’s arms so abruptly that Hyrule fell along with him.
They both fell to the dirt, Legend gasping as he landed on his side, and Hyrule quickly scrambled upright and tried to pull Legend to his feet. The veteran shook as Hyrule put his arm back around him, and he dragged him upright, the sound of pounding feet and monsters baying for blood growing louder.
“R-Rule, I-I can’t,” Legend croaked, and Hyrule looked at him, his heart in his throat. “I can’t...”
“Legend no, come on, just a bit further,” Hyrule said, voice shaking a little. “We can make it, we just need to keep moving.”
Legend looked at him tiredly, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes as he met Hyrule’s.
“Rule you gotta... gotta leave me. K-keep going.”
“Not an option,” Hyrule snapped, and cast desperately around the woods for something to help them. All that met him were huge shadowed trees, twisted roots and a dark, moonless sky.
“Want your b-blood, more ‘portant you... get away,” Legend whispered.
Torches suddenly glinted close by, too close, and Hyrule’s frantic gaze finally caught on a particularly tangled tree up ahead. A deafening howl rang through the forest, and Hyrule nearly carried Legend to the knot of roots he’d spotted, the hole just large enough that he was able to press both of them inside.
Legend made a sharp noise of distress when Hyrule accidentally nudged his injury, and he shushed him, curling around Legend so he was further hidden.
“Stay quiet Vet, we can’t let them hear us,” Hyrule breathed, the sharp tang of blood reaching his nose as he held Legend’s head close to him. Legend let out a pained breath, and Hyrule shushed him again as a monster hissed, still too close for comfort.
Footsteps pounded even closer, and Hyrule pressed them both tighter under the knot of mossy roots. All he could do was hope the shelter would be enough to hide them.
Torchlight flickered, and Hyrule tried to quiet his ragged breathing as he heard footsteps pound the dirt right next to their hiding spot. Legend flinched suddenly, his breath stuttering, and Hyrule pulled his head to his chest, trying to muffle any noises he made.
The footsteps stopped, and Hyrule closed his eyes, hoping desperately that the monsters would pass them by and not sniff out the blood dampening Legend’s tunic.
Please keep going, please don’t find us, keep going, keep going please...
A monster growled, and Hyrule heard a few voices exchange words in broken Hylian, hisses and snarls filtering down through the roots. Leaves crunched right by Hyrule’s feet, and he looked over in terror at the tail lashing right by their hiding spot.
Legend’s arm suddenly shifted, slowly reaching down to his side. Hyrule felt his hands shaking as he rifled in his pouch, and the leaves beside them rustled, a low snarl making the hair on Hyrule’s neck stand straight up.
A hole was suddenly torn in the roots above them, but Legend threw something over the both of them at the same time with a pained gasp.
A lizalfos stared down at them, tongue flicking between its teeth, and before Hyrule could try to attack or scramble away, Legend pressed his hand over his mouth.
The lizalfos continued to stare, looking directly at Hyrule and Legend, but made no move to attack. It extended its face only a few inches from Hyrule’s, so close that the traveler could count the scales on its snout, but still didn’t try anything.
It let out a low hiss through its teeth, and then it drew back, snarling something as it stalked away.
Hyrule let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and Legend shakily withdrew his hand.
Neither of them moved though, snarls and growls still ringing through the trees. After what felt like forever, footsteps pounded across the dirt, leaves crunching as the noises faded, and the torchlight receded, leaving them in almost complete darkness.
Hyrule looked over at Legend, his breathing ragged, and the veteran shakily pulled down what looked like a deep red cloak from their faces.
“How...”
“Invisibility cloak,” Legend croaked, breathing out shakily. “Takes m-magic to use though, I... can’t do th-that again.”
Hyrule let out a laugh that was a little hysterical, and rested his head against Legend’s, both of them trembling with the close call.
“I think we can stay here for the night,” Hyrule breathed eventually, and Legend made a small noise of agreement. “I don’t think they’ll come back any time soon.”
Hyrule shifted a little, Legend hissing in pain, and he set his hand on Legend’s bloodied side, calling forth the dregs of magic he had left.
“Rule...”
“You’re going to bleed out if I don’t,” Hyrule murmured, and Legend exhaled, letting him use what magic he could to stop the bleeding.
He stopped before long, feeling lightheaded from the magical drain. He hadn’t been able to completely heal Legend, but he wouldn’t die from the injury now, as long as they paid attention to it.
Legend murmured a quiet thanks, and Hyrule nodded, closing his eyes. He hoped the monsters wouldn’t come back— the odds of them checking their hiding spot again were slim, but... still possible. There really was no reason to suspect that they were here though, and they should be safe for the night.
Neither of them had the strength to move anyway.
Legend set his head on his, still slightly trembling, and Hyrule felt himself begin to drift, exhausted from the adrenaline draining away, and the low state of his magic.
“That was close,” he whispered, and he felt Legend swallow, holding him a little more tightly.
“Yeah. It was,” he whispered back.
They both drifted off not long after that, ears still pricked for the sounds of distant snarls and howls, curled up tightly under Legend’s cloak.
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hairstevington · 8 months
Text
Do I wanna know?
Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Summary: Somewhere in the multiverse, there is a world where everyone has a choice - If you had the option of reading a list of everyone who's ever been in love with you, would you do it?
Word Count: 2.6K
Warnings: Modern day AU sort of?? It's not based in realism, just go with it. Best friends to lovers, Robin & Steve & Eddie all live together because I said so, mutual pining, fluff, confession of feelings, lots of denial but they figure it out eventually
A/N: This idea came to me during my stats class, and then it became very difficult to continue focusing on my stats class. (I wrote it as soon as we were dismissed lol). Enjoy this cute little Steddie one shot! Ao3 link here :)
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“Dude, did you see what they just announced?” Steve asked as he played video games with Eddie.
“Yeah, it’s some wild shit,” Eddie replied. “How is it even possible?”
“I think it’s fake,” Robin called from the kitchen as she made them all pizza rolls. 
“Not fake,” Steve insisted. “I was reading about it on the internet and a bunch of people are saying it’s legit.”
“Well, if you read it on the internet, it must be true,” Robin remarked sarcastically. 
“Whatever,” Steve said. “I’m gonna get mine and find out.”
The deal was that, somehow, everyone had the option of getting a list of statistics about their lives. It was advertised with a variety of categories to look through - some of them could have been retrieved through bank statements and background checks, like the number of countries visited, money spent, etc. Other categories (let’s be real, the most intriguing categories), were far more mysterious.
Number of near-death experiences. Every book you’ve read, with a total word count. And, the most exciting of the bunch - How many people have been in love with you, and who.
“Don’t waste your money or your time,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s bullshit. Probably just another way for the government to squeeze more money out of us.”
“Come on, it’s not some conspiracy, Eds,” Steve replied. “I’m just curious, that's all.”
“Oh, I bet,” Robin chimed in. “Just be honest and admit you want to know about the love thing. You and your ego, Dingus.” Steve smiled. He couldn’t argue with her.
“As if you’re not also dying to read yours,” he countered. 
“I’m pretty sure mine would just hurt my feelings,” Robin said with a sigh. “Robin Buckley - loved by her platonic soulmate Steve Harrington and Creepy Carl from band camp.” Eddie snickered.
“Carl wasn’t that creepy,” he said. 
“You’re only saying that because you were also kind of creepy in high school,” she replied. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Eddie responded with a shrug. “But I think I speak for all former creeps when I say we were just socially stunted and awkward. Most of us grew up to be half-decent people.”
“Way to humble brag,” Steve teased. 
“I’m bragging by saying I’m half-decent?” Eddie replied. Steve laughed and nodded. Meanwhile, Robin quickly scrolled through her phone until she stumbled across what she was looking for with a gasp.
“Oh my god,” she said. “Creepy Carl’s most recent post is about how the patriarchy is a myth.” Steve laughed again and pushed Eddie playfully. Eddie flopped over on the couch and groaned.
“Dammit, Carl, I was rooting for you!” he joked. 
“We were all rooting for you, how dare you!” the three of them shouted in unison. 
That was, of course, a reference to America’s Next Top Model, which Robin showed the boys clips of one night during a rant about the toxicity and absolute batshit nature of early 2000s reality TV. That quote, for whatever reason, stuck. They had a lot of inside jokes like that.
This is how life had been for the three of them the last few years. They’d become best friends straight out of high school, then all moved in together. Life was comfortable and nice. 
-
Steve somehow convinced Robin that they would both get their lists together. Eddie, on the other hand, downright refused.
“I don’t need any of that shit,” he insisted. “It’s not gonna do me any good, and I’m perfectly fine staying in the dark.”
“Okay, I get it,” Steve said, holding his hands up. “You’re scared and lame, that’s totally okay.” Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Shut up, dickhead,” he replied. “This whole thing is stupid anyway. And - and it’s not like we can seriously trust whatever it says. It’s probably just…all lies, anyway.”
“Yeah, but they’re fun lies,” Robin countered. “It’s like hearing gossip about your own life.”
“Exactly!” Steve agreed. “It’s just for fun.”
“Have your fun, then,” Eddie said devilishly. “I’ll be in my room, not being an idiot.”
Robin and Steve put their names and date of birth into a search engine and, within five minutes, each had their respective documents in their inboxes. Steve opened his immediately and eagerly, skipping past all the boring shit until he found the good stuff. 
Number of people who have had crushes on Steve Harrington: 436.
Number of people who have been in love with Steve Harrington: 85.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, looking at the long list of names. He looked up from his phone to see Robin staring at the wall. “Why aren’t you reading?”
“I don’t think I can do it,” she said. “I’m chickening out.” Steve scoffed. 
“What? Robs, come on. You already ordered the damn thing.”
“Yeah, but -” She sighed. “But now it’s, like, real.”
“Do you want me to read yours for you?” he asked. She shook her head. 
“No, I think I’m just going to keep it unread for now,” she decided. Steve shrugged.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Robin scooted herself over on the couch so she could look at Steve’s phone screen. 
“Wait, they even have crushes on there?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Jeez, Harrington. That’s quite the list.” Steve smirked, realizing it very much did give him an ego boost. He continued scrolling to see even more categories.
Number of people Steve Harrington has had a crush on: 63.
Jesus, Steve thought to himself. That’s kind of embarrassing. In his defense, some of them were celebrities. He continued reading.
Number of people Steve Harrington has been in love with: 3.
Steve didn’t even have to read the list to know who was on it. He quickly clicked his phone off before Robin could see.
“Hey!” she said. “What was that for? It’s not like there are any secrets between us.”
“No, I just - I’ll read it later,” Steve said. 
Robin would usually be right. She was almost completely right. It’s just that Steve had one secret. And it wasn’t even really a secret, it was just something he kept to himself, because it didn’t really matter. 
Nancy Wheeler
Robin Buckley
Eddie Munson
He had barely admitted it to himself, honestly. It’s not like anything would happen. Him and Eddie were best friends, and if something was going to happen between them, it would have already happened. Now, they were too close, and living together. It was different. It didn’t matter. Besides, Robin was on his list, and he wasn’t running off to date her.
Steve put his phone away and didn’t check the list again for a couple days. 
-
“So, how’s the list?” Eddie asked one morning as he made a pot of coffee. “You haven’t said anything about it.” Steve shrugged.
“It’s like a million pages long,” Robin chimed in. Eddie clicked his tongue against his teeth.
“That’s not surprising,” he said. “It’s a shame Harrington isn’t much of a reader. It might take him years to get through.” Steve glared at Eddie, who grinned in response.
“Are you ever going to stop poking fun at me about that?” he wondered. 
“Aaaaabsolutely not,” Eddie replied. “Steve, The Hobbit is 310 pages. 310. Even one page a day you would have been done in a year, and you’re still not done.”
“Okay, listen,” Steve responded defensively. “It’s not my kind of book, alright?”
“He likes the ones with the pictures,” Robin teased. Eddie laughed and high-fived her. 
“Wooow, okay,” Steve replied. “I see how it is. I’m just gonna grab my cereal and go, then.”
“Nooo, don’t leave on our behalf,” Eddie said.
“We’re soorrrryyyyyy,” Robin added. Steve chuckled and shook his head. 
“Whatever,” he resigned. “I haven’t read the damn list. Not all of it, anyway.” Robin’s ears perked up.
“But you’ve read some of it, right?” she asked. “Spill!”
“Just the first ten names or so,” Steve said. He had gotten a glimpse when he skimmed over it the first time. “I think it’s in chronological order.”
“Anyone surprising?” Eddie wondered. Steve shook his head. 
“No,” he said. “Although it did confirm my suspicion that Katie Crystal was into me, after all.”
“I’m thinking maybe I should read mine,” Robin said quietly.
“Yeah, well duh,” Eddie replied. “You paid for it.”
“It’s just - it’s not a big deal, right?” Steve looked at Eddie to survey his reaction. Eddie just shrugged. “It’s like you said, Eds. We don’t even know if it’s accurate.”
Steve didn’t really know if all of it was accurate, but some of it sure as shit was.
“Exactly,” Eddie agreed. “So, Steve, there’s a chance that Katie Crystal actually hated your guts. Who’s to say?”
Steve rolled his eyes. Another few days passed. 
Robin flip-flopped between whether or not she wanted to read her list every few hours or so. Steve and Eddie placed their bets on how long it would take her to crack. 
Meanwhile, Steve counted his lucky stars that Eddie decided not to buy his list. It was clear that they were bros and nothing more, so Eddie finding out would have made everything incredibly weird.
This was for the best.
-
Things carried on as they usually did, until one day Steve was so bored, he decided to revisit the godforsaken document. Plus, he’d been on a few dates that ended in disaster, and reading about the hundreds of people that were into him was bound to put him in good spirits.
He had no idea just how right he was.
The names were all relatively normal. Steve tended to know when girls had a thing for him, especially back in high school. There were some names he didn’t recognize, which meant that there were total strangers crushing on him. He wondered how that was even possible. Like, at that point, they were just basing it on looks and vibes alone. 
Eh. Steve had crushes on people in the past over less. He kept reading.
He made his way down the list until he reached Eddie’s name. He read it again and again to make sure he was seeing it right. 
Eddie had said repeatedly that this thing could be total bullshit, though. Steve had to take it all with a grain of salt. Besides, crushes meant nothing. Hell, Steve was pretty sure Eddie had mentioned once that he thought Steve was hot when they first became friends. 
Steve made his way to the list of people who’d loved him. None of the names mattered except one. 
Eddie Munson. 
“Oh, shit,” Steve muttered. “Oh, shit!” He jumped up out of bed and paced the floor. He had no idea what to do with this information.
It could be bullshit. It could be nothing. 
Or maybe, Eddie had kept saying it was bullshit because he knew what Steve would find. 
“OH MY GOD.”
Robin came bursting into Steve’s room a few moments later. 
“What? What’s going on?” she said. She looked to see his phone on the floor and his hands in his hair. “Oh my god, you read it! What was it? What’s got you all freaked out?”
“I gotta - uhh - I gotta -” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence with Robin in the room. He had to find Eddie - that’s what he had to do. But his head was spinning too much to do so. 
“That’s it. I’m gonna read mine right now,” Robin decided. She swiftly left to go back to her room while Steve continued to pace. 
“Holy shit,” he said to himself. He thought about it for a few minutes, scrawled something on a piece of paper, and then walked down the hall to Eddie’s room.
Eddie opened the door a few inches, still wearing his sweatpants. He hadn’t left his room yet that day, but his guitar was lying on his bed, which meant he’d been practicing. 
“What’s up?” Eddie asked. 
“I finished the list,” Steve replied. Eddie’s jaw clenched just enough for Steve to notice, and then he shrugged. 
“And?” Steve continued to look at Eddie until he broke his composure. He sighed, then opened his door wider. “Come in,” he said. 
Steve had been in Eddie’s bedroom a million times. They’d watched movies in there and stayed up all night talking and smoked together and dear sweet lord I am so dumb for never noticing.
“Is it bullshit?” Steve asked. Eddie started spinning the ring on his middle finger anxiously, refusing to make eye contact.
“Uhh, is what bullshit?” Eddie replied. Steve put his hands on his hips and cocked his head. 
“Come on, you know what I’m talking about,” he said. “I just - is it bullshit? Tell me the truth.”
Eddie stared at him for a few long moments before gently shaking his head. 
“It’s not bullshit.”
Steve’s hands fell back to his sides, and he felt himself get lightheaded. 
“It’s -” he began, struggling to find the words. He cleared his throat. “Wow, I uh -”
“It doesn’t matter, though,” Eddie interjected. “Just so you know. I like what we have. We’re, ya know, we’re friends. Roommates.”
“Do you still -?” Steve started to ask. He noticed Eddie’s eyes flooded with fear, a sight he rarely saw. “I mean, do you still?”
“Steve, I -” Eddie began, his voice tired. “I really, uh. I don’t know what to say.” 
Steve dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he’d ripped from his notebook. He held it out for Eddie to take, and when Eddie didn’t reach for it, Steve stepped closer and stuffed the page right into Eddie’s hand. 
“Read it,” Steve encouraged.
“What is it?”
“It’s your list.” Eddie’s faced scrunched with confusion. “Yeah, I made it myself.” 
“I told you, I don’t wanna know,” he said, trying to give the paper back to Steve.
“Trust me, you do.”
Eddie sighed, then unfolded the paper and read it. 
People who are in love with Eddie Munson:
-Me
-(Steve Harrington)
Steve waited and watched Eddie’s eyes travel up and down the page, similar to the way Steve’s had when he read Eddie’s name on his own list. Finally, Eddie looked up. 
“Really?” he asked, his voice soft. Steve smiled and nodded. 
“Really.”
In that moment, they both knew this changed everything, and yet it changed nothing at all. They’d just skipped a bunch of steps of dating - blown past the getting-to-know-you stage straight into living together and doing all the domestic shit. 
Eddie and Steve each stepped toward the other until their hands met. 
“OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!”
Robin’s voice pierced through their intimate moment and completely obliterated it. The boys glanced at each other in confusion and then ran out to see what Robin was yelling about. 
She was already out the front door by the time they got to the kitchen. If this were a cartoon, she would have left behind a cloud of smoke. 
“What do you think that’s about?” Steve asked. Eddie felt his phone buzz and checked it to find Robin had texted a screenshot to the household group chat. He smirked.
“Vicki’s on her list,” Eddie said. Steve chuckled, happy that everyone managed to find their happy ending. 
“You know what that means?” Steve asked. 
“That you owe me 20 bucks?” Eddie teased.
“Well, that," Steve replied. "But is also means we’re alone in the apartment for a while." Eddie grinned and took Steve by the hand. 
“I like the way you think.”
They ran to Steve’s room together, and if the confession of love hadn’t already changed everything, sleeping together certainly did.
It was the good kind of change, though. The kind that moved mountains and cleared all the clouds from the sky. 
At last, the idiots were together. All it took was years of denial and one payment of $44.49.
----------------------
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deadpoolsoci3ty · 3 months
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so you're the a (alastor x reader) ch 1
(a/n: so i've been posting this on ao3 for about a week and just decided to post on here too now. also i do not have a posting schedule im busy lol sorry)
summary: finding the radio at that thrift store may have completely changed the course of my life, but really i'm not complaining at all.
word count: 1,789
warnings: none i think (let me know if should add some!)
ao3 link
masterlist
Chapter One: thing of beauty
The cold wind of Chicgo bit at my face as I walked the short walk from my apartment to the thrift store. I’m not totally sure what I was going there to look for, but I just needed to get out of my apartment. The walk was pleasant because I’m a college student home at one o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, so the sidewalks are barren. The store finally comes into view, and then I’m walking in. I greet the woman at the register, and immediately book it towards the trinkets in the back. I look through their selection of shot glasses and mugs, not seeing anything that I just had to have. I pace around the back of the store until I see this gorgeous antique radio. A radio would be great for background noise when I’m reading, and plus this was a thing of beauty. I may not have a lot of money, but I knew in my heart whatever price this radio was, it was coming home with me. I rushed over to pick it up so I could find the price, but before my eyes could land on the price tag they first saw a small ‘A’ carved into wood in the corner. Maybe it was like an Andy Toy Story situation, a cute little memory from a previous owner. Then I found the price, a solid $60 which I am truly willing to part with for this beautiful radio.
With an extra pep in my step, I made my way to the register to pay for my lovely new friend. I greeted the employee at the register once again, and she looked somewhat excited that I put the radio on the conveyor belt. “Has this been here long?” I asked because I was confused how someone would pass up this piece of art.
“Longer than me, pretty sure,” she shrugged, “all the employees here have made up our little stories about the history behind it.” She rang me up and the screen prompted me to put my card in, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get a sweet treat for a week or two but the radio was worth it. “It has been bought before though,” I furrowed my brow because what was wrong with this damn clock? But, to be honest I didn’t care if the radio even worked or not (I was hoping it did though) it was just beautiful. “The people always come back in basically begging us to buy it back, don’t even care for how much. One guy sold it to us for fifty cents one time.”
Now, normally I would not be caught dead with an object that people had been begging to return, and with the way the employee had been describing the situation the radio was definitely scaring the shit out of everybody that purchased it. But, for some reason I needed this radio. A little about me, I’m a textbook snobby english major. I love all things vintage, I think the classics are the greatest works in English literature, and hold a deep detestment for many aspects of modern culture. Yes, I am annoying.
“Mmm, something tells me I’ll be keeping it for the long haul.” I don’t know what possessed me to say something like this, but I’m just gonna go with it. I thank the employee and make my way out of the shop.
The walk home was much less brisk now that I was carrying this heavy radio, but I didn’t think about it much. I was just so excited. My roommate was out filming for some school project so I could fiddle with it when I got home.
After what feels like forever, I see the fence in front of my apartment. I whip out my keys, and put them in the lock of the first door and lock it behind me, while putting the key into the next door which leads to my apartment. I take off my shoes and lock the door. I walk over to the dining room table and put my purse down along with the radio so I can take my coat off. Once coatless, I grab the radio and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I mess with the knobs and dials until I hear a crackle. “Yes!” I yelled, as I began switching through the stations, most of the stations I knew from the radio in my car were entirely static. After a couple of minutes I heard someone speaking, the voice was filtered through what sounded like a microphone from the early days of audio.
“Hello dearie!~” the strange voice spoke, I assumed it was a prerecorded file a station was playing. Like a radio version of the history channel. So, of course I didn’t speak back to the radio. Then, the voice came back, “I said…” a loud static started to emanate from the speaker, “Hello!”
My first thought was ‘fuck me, if this is a demon in here, I’m definitely going to fall for one of his traps’ I had just though about this a couple days ago, I want things! Sue me! And I’m not fucking with you two days ago I had been thinking about this shit and now here I am. Welp, I’m fucked, but still I carry on. And now I was sure I had completely lost my mind, so since that had already happened and I was obviously in the middle of an episode of psychosis, I decided to reply, “Oh! Umm I didn’t think you were speaking to me. My apologies!” Whoever this person who was speaking was, I definitely did NOT want him to be upset with me.
“Oh dear, oh dear! Far in the past now! You’ve got my radio!” I could tell whoever was speaking was smiling, I could hear in their voice.
“This is yours? It’s gorgeous, I can assume you’re the ‘A’ on the bottom of it.” I could have asked so many questions, but I went with this one. I’m not totally sure why, but I really want to know more about the strange voice.
“Alastor! That’s my name, sweetheart!” He seemed excited to introduce himself, and honestly I was just as excited as him.
“Hello Alastor! My name is Y/N! It’s nice to meet you! Where do you live, Alastor? I found the radio in Chicago!” Why was I telling this strange voice over a creepy radio where I live.
“Oh when I was alive, my home was New Orleans. Absolutely fantastic! It made it all the way to the Windy City!” My heart froze after his fifth word, hair standing up, goose pimples all over my skin, and a shock through my spine. When he was alive??? What the fuck does that mean? He’s definitely a demon, yep fuck me.
“Just to clarify, you did just say ‘when you were alive’ right? That wasn’t me hearing things, right?” I was hyperventilating out of my damn mind. I absolutely understood now why people had returned this freaky fucking radio
“Oh yes, of course, dear! I’m coming to you straight from Hell.” The way he said it like it was the most casual thing ever, had me feeling like I was overreacting to what he was saying.
“And you’re not messing with me?” After it came out of my mouth I heard him clench his teeth.
“Oh, now what is your impression of me that says I would do that to you?” He seems frustrated with my question, and that did not sit right with me. I was quick to appease him.
“No, no, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant by that, I promise!” I try to stop myself from spilling my guts to this man who I believe might be a demon, because the voice in my head was telling me giving personal information to a demon was probably not the best decision I could make, but I just couldn’t stop myself. “It’s just I never believed in an afterlife or a religion, so it’s just that you have just told me that hell is real and that is absolutely insane to me because now I’m terrified hell is horrible. Is it horrible? I mean I guess that’s the point?” I took a deep breath before I continued my word vomiting, but before I got the chance, Alastor began speaking again.
“Sweet girl~ please stop with the yammering…” His voice seemed like nectar to me, I could listen to him speak all day, “before we continue with our little back and forth, I am going to need to know what I’m getting out of this?” I immediately started thinking about the things I could offer him, not my soul. Wasn’t there just yet.
“What could you possibly want from me?” This was the most genuine question I had asked in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to offer him. I had money for groceries, rent, and utilities. Most of my possessions were books, he was in hell what use could he have for anything I could give him.
“I just adore your voice, little deer!” He was back to being his chirpy self, and it rubbed off on me making me feel a little calmer. “I’m sure you would love to continue our little chats, and in return I’d just like for you to read to me, from a book of your choosing of course.” I was trying not to let off how excited I was, I wanted him to feel like he was getting more out of this than he was. “I’m trusting you have immaculate taste, but give a couple of your favorites just so I can tell.”
After a few quick beats I respond with, “My favorite book of all time is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, I’m a big fan of the classics, nineteenth century literature.”
“Oh how swell!” he seemed like he was buzzing with glee, “A beautiful voice with even better taste!” He seemed to chuckle to himself and as his laugh faded out his voice came back, “Well, dearest, I’m afraid I must be going for now! I’ll excuse your payment for today, but be ready for next time, my dear,” I took a deep breath at the thought of a next time, “When you want to contact me again, just tune back into this station, I’ll be able to tell. I won’t always be able to talk, but when I can I’ll be there in a jiffy!”
Before I could respond to him the static that accompanied his voice faded and it eventually became silent in my apartment once again. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and leaned back into my couch.
(a/n: i've written five chapters so far i'll be posting the other four asap)
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slut4thebroken · 10 months
Text
The Lesson
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Dark!Jason Todd x innocent Batgirl!reader
Summary | Jason teaches you a different way you can make him feel good.
Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, emotional manipulation, coercion, consent through coercion, corruption kink, face fucking, deep throating, crying, no female orgasms, lowkey misogynistic!Jason lol, adopted siblings, but like... he doesn't think of her that way and neither does she.
Words | 2k
Notes | He’s so strong I want him to crush my skull with his bare hands-
Ao3 link | <3
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“Right on time, pretty girl.” You flushed at the pet name as you limped into his room. Bruce had questioned you about why you couldn’t go on patrol tonight, but you told him it was just because you pulled something when you stretched a little too hard. It felt wrong lying to him, but it was better than the truth. When you neared the bed, he moved the covers and maneuvered you to lay completely flush to his body on top of him. 
“How’s my favorite girl?” His smile gave you butterflies. 
“Sore.” You muttered, looking away from him. 
“I can tell.” He chuckled, then once he saw your frown, added, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’ll try to go easier on you from now on.” 
“Thank you, Jay.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile. 
“Since you’re still sore, how about we do something else tonight?” You all but sighed in relief from his words. “You ever sucked cock before?” You choked on your spit and stared at him, eyes wide in shock. 
“N-no.” You stammered, feeling yourself grow nervous. 
“I’ll teach you. I’m sure you’ll be a natural at it, princess.” He smirked, making you blush all the way down to your chest. He moved you down to lay between his legs, then removed his already hard cock from his briefs. “Go ahead, baby. Touch it.” You tentatively reached for it, making him chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you, just grab it.” Instead of giving you a chance to obey, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock. He didn’t let go and instead started moving your hand up and down his length. 
“Good girl. Just like that.” He said, releasing you to let you continue on your own. It was weird, but you liked watching his reactions— the way his breath would hitch or he’d let a quiet moan escape made you squeeze your thighs together. “Lick the precum.”
“What?” You asked, brows furrowed. 
“You don’t know what precum is?” You felt your cheeks heat up and you shook your head, embarrassed. “See that on the tip?” You looked down at his length, finding a bead of clear liquid on top. 
“That’s… precum?” The word felt a little silly when you said it outloud. 
“Yeah. Go ahead and lick it, tell me how it tastes.” You tentatively leaned down with your tongue out, letting it swipe over the tip just like he said. 
“It’s a little salty?” 
“Yeah?” You nodded. “Do you like it?” 
“I- I don’t know. I think so?” You didn’t. But you didn’t want to make him feel bad.
“Good. Hold it at the base now and lick up from the bottom.” He instructed, hand tangling in your hair. You did as he said, sticking your tongue out and dragging it all the way up his length. “Now close your lips around the tip. Good girl- use your tongue.” You flicked your tongue over him, trying not to cringe when you got another taste of the precum. 
“Now hollow your cheeks and go a little deeper- that’s it.” You sucked in your cheeks and moved down, looking up at him through your lashes for approval, making him let out a choked moan. “Fuck- good girl. Up and down.” He started lightly guiding your head and when he suddenly pushed down a little harder until he hit the back of your mouth, you gagged and pulled off, feeling tears already start to build. 
“You gotta control your gag reflex, okay? Otherwise you won’t make me feel good.” He warned, making you frown. 
“I- I’m sorry. I’ll try.” You said quietly, moving back down on his cock. He continued guiding you and when his cock brushed the back of your mouth again, you were a little more prepared this time, only gagging a little. 
“Good girl, keep that up.” He said through a moan and you could feel that familiar tingle between your legs. He continued moving your head up and down his length, each time brushing the back of your throat, but even then he was still barely half way inside. 
“I’m gonna speed up a little okay?” All you could go to respond was look up at him. He started moving your head faster now, adding his other hand to your head to have even more control. When he brushed your throat, making you gag, his grip on your hair tightened and he shushed you gently. “You’re okay. You can take it.” He cooed, groaning when you let out a muffled whimper. He finally let out pull off and you coughed and sputtered, looking up at him, eyes blurry with unshed tears. 
“Oh fuck.” He moaned, moving a hand to cup your cheek. “Holding up okay?” He asked, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, shiny with spit. You whined and averted your gaze, not wanting to disappoint him. “I’m not going to do this without consent so if you really want to leave me in pain again, then I guess we can be done.” He warned, making your eyes snap back to his. 
“No, I- I’m sorry. I want to, Jay, ‘s just hard.” 
“I know, baby. But the more you practice, the better you’ll get.” He gave you a small smile that you couldn’t help but return. “Ready for more?” You nodded, tentatively opening your mouth as his hand moved back to your hair. He slid in again, resuming the fast pace, and you focused on holding back your gag reflex to last longer. Part of you wondered why you couldn’t do it how you first started, going up and down on your own and using your hand, but he knows more about this than you do so there’s probably a reason. 
“Okay, I’m gonna go all the way in now. Do you trust me?” You did your best to nod with his length still in your mouth and his grip still on your hair, even though you weren’t sure what he meant. “Take a deep breath.” You inhaled through your nose, then he was pushing you down until his cock hit the back of your mouth. You tried not to gag, but when he kept pushing, you couldn’t help it. Letting out a muffled whimper, your hands settled on his thighs, gripping tightly and trying to push yourself up. 
“Look at me.” He rasped. The second your watery eyes fluttered up to his, the pressure increased tenfold until his cock was breaching your throat barrier and your lips were at the base. Your eyes widened as you choked, but his grip was unmoving. “Oh my fucking god.” He whimpered, letting out a vulgar moan. The tears in your eyes quickly started falling and the longer he held you there, the more you started to panic until you were thrashing in his grip. 
“You’re okay- just take it.” When you tried to pull off, he just pushed down harder, burying your nose in his pelvis. “Good girl- good fucking girl. It’s okay to struggle, I’m strong enough to help you out and hold you still.” When he finally relaxed his grip to let you pull off, you immediately shot up, choking and coughing, then letting out a quiet sob. He shushed you, stroking your hair with one hand, but keeping the other gripped tight so you couldn’t move away. 
“You’re doing so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.” He cooed. You couldn’t stop crying, not used to the panic you just felt— the feeling of being completely trapped. “Can you look at me, princess?” He asked softly and you couldn’t help but obey. His cock twitched as he cursed under his breath at the sight of your tear stained cheeks.
“You can take just a little more right? I’m so close.” Despite the fact that your whole body was protesting, you gave him a small nod. “That’s my girl. You’re doing so good for me. Love you so much.” 
“Love you too, Jay.” You rasped, voice already incredibly hoarse. 
“Ready?” You did your best to quickly level out your breathing as you sniffled, trying to mentally prepare yourself too. When you nodded, he grasped your hair with both hands again and guided you back down. He fucked you slowly for a little while, letting you get used to the feeling again, then sped up. He didn’t pull you all the way down, just let the tip hit the back of your mouth with each thrust. When his moans got progressively louder, you knew he was nearing his orgasm. 
He pulled you down, groaning when his cock met the resistance of your throat, but kept going until he forced it all the way in. His hands splayed flat on the back of your head, holding you completely still against him as he groaned. With your nose completely pressed to his pelvis, it made it even harder for you to try and breathe. 
He held you still, his hips bucking up every once in a while, and you clawed at his thighs as more tears started to fall. When hot come hit the back of your throat, you let out a strangled whimper. His hips kept grinding up against your face even though he couldn’t go any deeper and you started panicking again. You could barely get the sounds of your cries out with his cock buried so deep. Before it stopped twitching entirely, he pulled out, one hand holding you still and the other rapidly fisting it as more come shot out, hitting your face. 
“Keep it open.” He said quickly when you started closing your mouth. Despite your coughing and crying, you opened your mouth again as the last few ropes of come left his cock, this time mostly landing in your mouth. You grimaced at the taste, but he paid no mind to it. As his hand slowed to a stop, you tried to focus on calming down and not crying. 
“Fuck.” He groaned, drawing the word out. “Good fucking girl. Clean it up.” He swiped the come off your face with his fingers, then shoved them in your drooling mouth as far as he could, being sure to push down on your tongue to make you gag as you “cleaned them.” When he pulled them away and wiped the spit off on your cheek, your face heated up. 
“Such a good girl.” He cooed, wiping the rest of your tears away. He pulled you up his body until you were straddling his hips, then reached for the hem of your sleep shirt, forcing it off of you. You shivered at the cool air on your now exposed nipples and he groaned but focused on the original task of cleaning the spit off your face with your shirt. When he finished, he told you to lay down so you moved to the side and he cleaned his softening cock, then tucked himself back in his briefs and discarded your shirt on the floor. He pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around your torso as you laid your head on his chest. 
“Jay, can I have some water?” You rasped, throat sore. 
“What for, baby?” He muttered, clearly more tired than before. 
“Don’t like the taste…” 
“No one likes the taste. And I’m not gonna be offended since you didn’t know, but saying something like that is usually frowned upon when it comes to sex.” 
“Oh… Why?” You asked, brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Because it’s rude, princess. If anything you should be saying thank you to me for giving it to you.” 
“I’m sorry… Thank you, Jay.” You said quietly, feeling embarrassed about your lack of knowledge surrounding sex. You were glad that you had someone you trusted to teach you though, someone you felt comfortable making dumb mistakes like this around.
“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep okay?” 
“Okay, sorry. I love you.” You said, placing a kiss to his chest. 
“Love you too, baby.” He mumbled, placing a sleepy kiss on the top of your head. 
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foreverjustaplace · 3 months
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The Bear in the Room
AHHHHHHH!! I'm not at all normal about Syd and Carmy. Like not at all. I have been reading and writing fanfiction since elementary LOL, but it's been years and years since I wrote anything. I've devoured just about every single fanfic with the Syd/Carmy tag I could find and then some. I've had this tumblr for over a decade and posted ZERO things. Now I've retweeted every other sydcarmy post and debated sharing my own theories and fics. But it's time. Feedback is welcomed! But be gentle, my darlings, I'm not exaggerating when I say I haven’t written fanfiction in over a decade. I'm nervous. Here's an excerpt from the first chapter, which will hopefully be up soon on AO3. It's called The Bear in The Room and will be a 5+1 Time fic.
5 Times Syd called Carmy "Bear" and 1 Times he calls her "Bear"
Syd is irritated. “Look, Carm. Effective teamwork begins and ends with communication.” She doesn’t tell him she stole that line from Coach K. “How can we build this up to be as successful as we want it to be if you’re not even telling me you’re going to be late? Or, I don’t know, text me if you’re not going to come in at all during our scheduled time.”
“Syd, that was one time. And I didn’t realize my phone wasn’t plugged in properly which is why it died and I couldn’t text you until much later. That’s my fault. I was tired–”
Sydney cuts him off. “Carmy, dude, I’ve literally gotten less than five hours of sleep each night for the last couple of weeks. We’re all tired. We’ve been tired. This shit isn’t new for us. We need you on your A-game. I need you at your best!” 
Carmy runs both of his hands through his hair, and his voice is strained but louder than it’s been all morning. “Syd, you are the one person who gets me at my best. If I’m fucking up out there,” he gestures to the windows behind them as he continues, “I’m doing everything in my power to not bring that shit near you. I give you whatever my best is, okay? You have to know that I want this restaurant to succeed, and I want to get you those fucking stars.” His face redding as his electric blue eyes look into her expansive brown ones. 
Syd’s annoyance is fizzling out. She knows she shouldn’t let it. She wants to keep it at the forefront of her mind. She tries to force herself to keep thinking about how he’s been absent, hanging out with his girlfriend–a friend who’s a girl–Claire–whoever she is to him–but he’s still Carm and she’s still Syd. And though she hasn’t worked on the menu with him in his apartment in weeks, and though the moments of them talking about nothing and everything outside during a smoke break, where he somehow is always just finishing the cigarette he came outside to smoke as she opens the back door and comes to sit right next to him, haven’t been as frequent, she still feels deeply connected to him. 
So all she can do at that moment is bite her bottom lip and swipe her tongue on that same spot so quickly, you’d miss it if you blinked, before hesitantly responding. “You have my best, too, and I—” But she doesn’t get to finish because Fak chooses that moment to push the restaurant’s new door open and boisterously yell out to no one in particular, “Look who I found! It’s Claire Bear and she is going to help us with our GET-THE-BEAR-FUCKING-READY-FOR-OPENING-DAY day!” Syd can’t help but stare at Claire, a beat too long, with her full face of makeup and fancy-looking shirt. At least she put on some closed-toed shoes for today. Before Claire can get out of Fak’s embrace, Syd turns back to Carmen and says, “I need your best to be better,” as she walks off to find Nat.
Soo what do you think? Is it worth posting?
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xreaderbooks · 1 year
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All I breathe (2)
Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: language, violence, mentions of abuse, trauma, and torture
Summary: Could a mission to Y/n’s childhood home, the Autumn Court, spark a friendship between the night courts spymaster and the newest emissary? Or will they let their hatred come between, what could be, a strong bond?
A/N: I made Nuan from ACOWAR heavily OC in this, I haven't read the books in so long so please forgive any reference mistakes. I haven't read ACOSF either so keep that in mind, I did try to do my research for storyline purposes when it comes to the first 4 books. I also do not know how to describe dresses very well lol. Send me a message or comment if you want to be tagged in future parts.
Also available on Wattpad and AO3
Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
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An Illyrian bastard! you could not stand him. He was a contemptuous brute as you knew most Illyrians were. Cassian and Rhysand were just fine, if only he turned out more like his brothers. Although the comment the former had made had you reeling. In no world do you see yourself sharing a bed with the Shadowsinger. What was worse was knowing the days to come were going to be filled with hours of what had just occurred. In the safety of your room, you had released the flames that begged for freedom, letting them kindle on your hands, careful not to get too close to the furniture.
The power you and your twin had shared assuming it had come from your mother's distant bloodline. Your mother was another factor that you had thought of constantly during your stay at this new court. While you dealt with your own struggles mentally, you and Lucien had a better life here in Velaris, you were free from all the males who once dominated your life. You couldn’t say the same for your poor mother. She was the one person you looked forward to seeing.
“He’s not right you know?” A smooth casual familiar voice echoed from behind you. Your power jolted, letting out a blast of controlled flames in your hands.
“I could have burned you, you idiot!” You shoved your brother away from you once you recovered from the shock.
“No, you really couldn’t have.” He chuckled. There Lucien stood a few feet behind you, he just left yesterday morning, there was no reason for him to be back so early.
“What are you doing here anyway?” You crossed your arms and shuffled closer to your bed, sitting on the edge.
“I heard Rhysand gave you a tough assignment, with an even tougher partner.”
“Do not call him my partner and he’s weaker than any of you give him credit for,” You snarked back.
Lucien put his hands up in surrender, “Relax I’m just here to ease the tension.”
“Like you ever,” You glared at him playfully.
“He has a way of making you tense so easily, Sister.” Lucien sits beside you on the edge of the end of your bed. “Despite your hatred for him, you need to place your trust in him fully while you’re there.”
“Why can’t you come with me?” You put on your best puppy dog-like pleading eyes, Lucien stopped falling for it once you both came to an age where life was not so easily bought by a sweet smile or those perfect doe eyes you were able to mimic.
“I would if I could, I have business elsewhere” He ruffled your hair pushing your head away lightly when you scowled at him. “Important business in the mortal realms of all places.”
“Oh please, you can feign annoyance all you want but you’ve found an interest there.”
“I don’t have much keeping me here anyway Y/n, better to keep busy.” A sad disposition had formed within him whenever he was near Elain, he couldn’t do more than he was already doing to make Elain comfortable around him.
The words stung, and suddenly the statement Azriel made didn’t seem so far off the truth. You knew you could make yourself useful enough to be of value but what did any of that mean when your own twin couldn’t find your company worthy. Obviously, he did have places to go and people to meet but you did too and if he ever needed you, you would drop everything to be there for him. The scar on your left cheek was a testament to that.
You sat there side-by-side for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other's company in silence. Lucien tapped your knee twice before declaring he walk you out before your journey. He wrapped a loose arm around your shoulders, “I will be here when you get back.” He squeezed you into his side.
Reaching the last step Azriel was there waiting for you, he gave Lucien a nod before looking away to give you and your brother privacy. You squeezed his middle, “You better.”
He gave you a kiss on your forehead, “Stay safe, sister.”
“Goodbye brother,” You whispered back to him before he disappeared into thin air. Cassian came out of the kitchen and nodded for you to come to him.
Once in the kitchen Cassian peeked out of the door and spoke in a hushed tone, “Listen, I know it’s gonna be hard but the only way this plan will work is if you both find a way to set aside your differences and learn how to communicate.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair giving him an exasperated look, you thought he was going to give you some advice or something more useful than a lecture. “Unlike him, I believe I can be civilized. Besides we’re about to have plenty of bonding time.”
You caught him wince at the word bonding, “Let’s hope so.”
“Was that it?” You asked. Cassian hummed in response and with a finger flicked your head up by your chin.
“Remember Y/n, don’t hesitate. Hesitate and you're dead.” The same advice he gave you throughout training, a feat you had consistent trouble with; hesitation. You were decent, despite being out of shape with the lack of training and with what little you knew of combat. Illyrian training was different than what you were used to but it was better and you learned enough to be of use if you were needed. Maybe a little clumsy and lacked some confidence in your skills but in a life-or-death situation you expected your survival instincts would kick in.
He guided you to where Azriel was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his knife.
~~~
Winnowing to the dawn court went smoothly. You and Azriel winnowed separately, neither of you willing to touch each other, opting to travel alone rather than conserve energy to save time. The first big jump had you stopping for a break at the Day Court, you felt your power falter, the surge of fire from earlier draining you a little. The law of your power, where one of your powers is strong the others weaken.
You stopped by a lake for water, careful of your surroundings. A quick minute stop and when you had winnowed away to the point on the other side of the border where you knew to meet Azriel, he had given you an earful.
“Where were you?” His tone was nothing short of accusatory.
“I felt like I needed a short break so I stopped for some water,” You spoke casually so as not to alarm the always-on-edge spymaster. It took a toll on your patience but you needed him to be calm.
His eyes were narrow as he stared you down, “Where?”
“Near Day Court border Azriel, Where else?”
“Specifically where did you stop for water?” He pushed, “Shocking there were no sentries nearby.”
“I assure you whatever your mind conjured up about my whereabouts, is not true.”
“I just find it curious how you were not intercepted,” He crossed his arms and tilted his head “unless there is something that you’re not telling me.”
You were beginning to feel anxious by his interrogation, you didn’t have anything to hide but this felt familiar in the ways your brothers would question you after a night out or worse when you were on your little missions for them. Tamlin would do the same, jealous even though you knew he never truly loved you. Even when he had Feyre.
“I told you all there is to know,” You grit your teeth. “We’re wasting time on this useless topic when we would have been at Dawn already.”
“I don’t trust you.” He begins to walk in the direction of the border of the Dawn Court.
“Oh really?” Your voice is frivolous as you follow him, “I hadn’t gathered that. I can feel your shadows, they are not as obscure as you think they are. Even so, I have nothing to prove to you Shadowsinger.”
His jaw clenches, “You somehow have fooled everyone in my court that you are innocent but I will find a way to break you Firewielder.”
“And you will fail,” You stop walking when you step in front of him, blocking his way. “You think of me as some villain Azriel when I am just someone who is trying to get by in whatever way, whatever place I can. That is all I have been trying to do, all I have ever done. Gods, if your High Lady could forgive me, why can’t you?”
“You have caused my High Lady enough harm,” He says simply and starts to walk again but you block his path. “You do not deserve the forgiveness, Rhysand and Feyre have so graciously granted you.”
“I have paid for my sins just as I’m sure you have and will continue to do so, I do not need a constant reminder of my fuckups any more than you do.” Your words were like venom, you may not know all of what the Shadowsinger was made of but the whispers throughout the world of what he does to people, rumor or no- you knew would haunt him til the end of his days. “You are no better than I am Spymaster, you should do well to remember that next time you sink that knife into someone’s flesh.”
An astonished look featured on his chiseled face, you’d wager no one but his brothers dared to speak to him in such a way. You weren’t one to speak so flippantly, but Azriel brought out a side of you that you had to admit you reveled in. You hadn’t felt as strong as when you let all your anger out on him. Your brothers, your father, and Tamlin had made you cower into yourself so much so that you didn’t dare argue. Azriel lit a fire within you that fueled you to shed the weaker parts of your soul and fight back.
~~~
You were within the walls of the Dawn Court castle only minutes after your discussion with Azriel. Not a word was spoken after you said your peace, you stood next to each other with a generous amount of space between you as you waited for someone to attend to you at the front steps of the palace.
A friendly face appeared from behind the doors urging you both to come inside, the healer of the Dawn Court was a long-time friend of yours. You hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years yet her countenance was still the same. She hugged you in greeting and gave the Shadowsinger a nod.
“The High Lord is otherwise engaged unfortunately but he sends his regards and me of course,” Nuan clutched your arm that was already looped around hers. “I’ll be showing you to your rooms.”
“Thank you,” You smiled. Azriel repeated what you had said and followed close behind you. She guides you through a series of hallways with large pillars framing the view of the mountains.
“It’s not a problem, though I do ask that you join me for dinner tonight.” She pauses in front of a door, she’s still holding your arm so you assume this is Azriels room. “Both of you, it’ll be at that restaurant in town that we used to go to Y/n, you know the one.”
You nodded with pursed lips, “Yes, I do but I’m sure Azriel has other ideas on how he’d like to spend his night.” You tried to hint at her to leave him alone, you needed a break from him and his attitude.
“I’ll be there.” Was all Azriel said before bowing his head at her and closing himself in his room for the night.
Nuan raised her brows at you with a slightly agape mouth, dragging you through the long corridor lined with near-opalescent golden stone pillars. Once she had shown you your room a couple of doors down from Azriels, she shut the door behind her. “I had to give you this room so that I can talk to you without him hearing, Cauldron that male is astonishingly gorgeous.”
You snorted, “For a bat.”
She placed her hands on her hips, “Now I know damn well you have taste, Y/n and I know that you wholeheartedly agree with me.”
“I might have once upon a time, I’ve changed.” You smirked and strolled around the room, taking it all in. Your room had a balcony overlooking one of the many gardens, you would have chosen to stay at the Dawn Court if given the opportunity.
“Surely not because of the husband!” Nuan gasped. She reminded you of the one you were fake married to, Fae cannot lie but when one is desperate, the loopholes you find are wild.
You raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, “No, of course not.”
She walked toward you and reached out with her mechanical hand tracing the scar on your face, “Do you think he is that superficial? I have seen the scars on his hands Y/n, he is beautiful but not completely unmarred.”
“I forget how forward you are Nu,” You stepped out of her reach. “Have you heard the news of the faebane? It’s traveling all across the lands, the reason why we’re here.”
She nodded grimly, “Yes, I have heard but my information is limited. And you’re deflecting but that’s no matter, we shall continue that topic at dinner.”
“For an alchemist, you sure do like to gossip.” You teased, “You should seek out Azriel before dinner to discuss the faebane situation.”
“Why do you think I’m friends with an emissary? you make the most pleasant company for gossip.” She reached for the door handle and slipped out of the room.
~~~
You forgot how free-flowing Dawn Court fashion is, as you dressed you felt yourself grow self-conscious. The dress exposed your thighs, arms, and stomach with shibari-like knots around the torso and neck with layered sheer nude material covering. A huge difference from what you were wearing before. You reminded yourself of the fact that the fae of the Dawn Court were not judgmental people and they made dresses like this for all shapes and sizes and they saw every being as radiant. They were peaceful and kind and as you walked into the restaurant, you and Nuan had found one night, Azriel was sitting there in conversation with the dark-haired beauty.
Her dress was similar to yours, and her upturned eyes and olive-toned skin were complimented by the lavender color she was wearing. Azriel was talking intently, the loud chattering of everyone around you clouded your ability to hear what he was saying. Nuan was right, he was gorgeous. Beautiful in a way you could not compare to a male or female, he was otherwordly.
You scolded yourself mentally, as beautiful as he may be, his personality was not. His calculated, smooth-toned, encapsulating speech- your mind wandered again. You could not catch a break from him. Mentally or physically and you were sick of it. With a huff, you lifted the hem of your dress so that it would not catch onto your heel and strutted over to the table where Azriel was out of his chair and holding it out for you to take his place.
In the time you took to admire him from the entrance, you failed to see that they were sitting at a table for two. There was room for two more but you’d have to steal a chair from another table and he had given his chair to you. Your eyes flickered from the chair to him and hesitantly took a seat, he tucked you into the table, and you didn’t miss the way Nuan’s lips turned up on one side.
He pulled up a chair and sat. A Cheshire grin spread upon Nuan’s face, immediately nerves took over you.
“Now that we’re done exchanging information,” She nodded once to Azriel and directed her attention to you. “Y/n about that husband, how is he?”
Your jaw ticked, “I wouldn’t know, I don’t speak to him.”
She hummed, “Interesting. And your brother is he well?”
“Yes, he is, though I suspect you know that considering he visits you often.”
Her laugh came out in a bark, Azriel's eyes and shadows watched you two in a dance, silently observing your postures and hidden messages. He wouldn’t understand the game you and Nuan played, especially not the one Nuan was playing right now, you were beginning to lose track of yourself.
“So Tamlin is completely out of the picture now?” She went back to her original target. You coughed a little bit of the water you sipped a second before she asked. “No, Nuan.” You cursed. “I live in the night court now, everything's changed.”
“Just curious, Y/n/n-” She said lightheartedly. “Do you live there with him?” She glanced at the male sitting next to you. So this is what she wanted to know.
Azriels eyes widened, “Absolutely not!” You both exclaimed at the same time, creating looks coming from nearby tables.
“Apologies, really I thought you two were together, possibly in secret. I got a sense that you both were involved, please forgive me.” Nuan’s cheeks reddened as she stammered her apology.
You were entirely upset knowing that she was embarrassed by her display. You switch the topic as smoothly as you could, asking about how the faebane works and if there was any way she could create an antidote without knowing the exact ingredients in the newer version. She answered each question with ease, Azriel asked a few of his own and finished up the conversation they were having earlier about the theories on who could have made it. At that time your dinner was cleared, and the three of you lingered to pay for your meal.
“Excuse me, I believe I see a patient of mine who isn’t doing what he’s supposed to-” Nuan rushed out of her seat to an older-looking male.
You caught Azriels stare when you turned back into your chair. He looked pensive as he opened his mouth to speak, “How did you and Nuan…”
“Meet? Under the mountain.” You responded though you weren’t so sure why considering you still wanted to be petty for his interrogation. “She healed and made Lucien's eye, also helped me heal when I got the scar.”
A few moments of silence.
“I’d like to-” He cleared his throat “I’d like to apologize for earlier.”
Your eyes search his in suspicion, he continues. “I should have believed you. My shadows told me that you were speaking the truth and I didn’t believe you.”
“I have had enough overbearing males in my life dictating my life and questioning my every move without you being added to the list.”
“I’m trying Y/n,” He sighed clenching the table napkin.
“By telling me that your shadows tried to plead my case and even then you wouldn’t believe me?”
“When you put it that way.” He breathed out a laugh, the closest one you’ve ever heard from him that was meant for your ears. It was a small gesture, one that did not go unnoticed by you. Around you, he was always so tense.
“What is it then?” You inquire, “Do you hate me or could we call a truce?”
“As if you could hold your tongue for long enough for me not to hate you.”
You allowed yourself a small smile, “You are truly unrelenting, if this is how you are with me I wonder how are with the people you bring to your chamber.”
“You talk of my work with so much ease,” He grimaced. “You wouldn’t be able to actually stomach it.”
The humor that hung in the air was gone, you sensed a challenge. “I can’t do what you do but I am not afraid of you Shadowsinger.”
His hazel eyes beheld yours, exploring them, you weren’t sure what he was searching for but the intensity with which he stared unnerved you. “If you weren’t the sister of the male I despise the most and if you weren’t once married to the one who caused my lady so much grief, I could be inclined to like you.” His smooth low toned voice was hypnotic.
You reached for your glass of wine, the energy too much for you to take sober taking a sip before replying “If you weren’t such an insufferable bastard, I could be inclined to say the same.”
“I still don’t trust you,” Azriel said slyly.
You rolled your eyes, “Do you have mind healers in Velaris? Cause you desperately need one, you all do.”
That brought out a deep laugh from him, you looked at him in awe at the melody that came from his mouth and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time. Your stare fixed upon his smile, bright and angelic made your heart jump. He was suddenly aware of you and the wall he had when he was around you built up again.
Your mind felt the need to know if what he said earlier was true, “Is that really why you hate me?”
“You can’t just let a moment be, can you Firewielder?” He no longer carried that sharp grin that had you melting for a second.
“I am not my brother, Eris I mean, what he’s done. I have no part in it.”
He nodded slowly, “Now tell me why you hate me.”
You picked at your cuticle as you spoke- a nervous human habit that you picked up throughout your years. “I don’t. I don’t particularly like you but you have done nothing but make my life miserable since the moment you rescued us from the ice and every moment after that.”
You were being chased by your brothers along with Feyre and Lucien when Cassian and Azriel had come to Feyre's aid. That was when you had found out that Feyre was the High Lady of the Night Court when you and Lucien had been brought to Velaris and saw the city you’ve grown to love. It was the start of everything. Before and after the war.
You and Lucien were appointed as emissaries to the night court, Lucien had his assignments and you had yours. You served as both emissary and spy (occasionally), while Lucien had to send bi-weekly reports to Azriel, you had to report to him for every single assignment unless specified otherwise by the High Lord. This is the cause of the clash you had with the Spymaster.
That day was the only day you had peace from him, if only because nobody in the inner circle had warmed to your presence yet.
“My whole life I’ve heard of the monstrous fae who served the Night Court, the Court of Nightmares was real to me but I was never afraid of the stories- of you. All you did was prove that the stories were true, like the act you all put on when you go there, is real.”
“You should know that I do not find it easy to be around you Y/n.” You were about to ask him what he meant when Nuan’s figure came into view, pulling a lesser fae male along with her.
“Y/n I’d like you to meet Damian- Damian this is the friend I told you about.” Nuan shoved him your way as you stood, you stumbled into him and he steadied you by your elbows. “I took care of the bill by the way, I told Damian he should walk you to the palace. Azriel and I still have loads to discuss.”
You smiled shyly at the blond-haired guy in front of you and turned your head to where Azriel was once sitting, you were about to protest but Nuan was already dragging Azriel out the door. You appreciated your friend's efforts to set you up with the attractive male that was nothing short of a gentleman as he made easy conversation during the walk to the palace, but after dinner with Azriel, this guy wasn’t going to cut it. It would be too easy for you to bring him up to your room and spend the night with him but you were on a job and you were not going to give Azriel another to scold you. 
~~~
Next Chapter
Taglist: @americancowgirl19 - @feyres-fireheart - @brekkershadowsinger - @marina468
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dawnagustd · 2 years
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MU$IC FAIRY || MYG
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❃ Festivaled Away: Burned Memories hosted by @bangtanbathhouse​  
⤞ Ticket: Playlist ⤞ Main Event: Based on a Playlist ⤞ Games: fucking playlist | sensory deprivation | breath play | phone sex | oral fixation
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⤞ title: mu$ic fairy  ⤞ pairing: rapper!yoongi x podcaster!female oc/reader ⤞ genre: smut   ⤞ summary: When Yoongi’s career started to kick off, he never imagined he’d have a secret admirer this early in the game. Sure, random women throw themselves at him all the time, but this one has a different approach when it comes to getting his attention.  ⤞ word count: 11k ⤞ warnings: strong language | sexual tension | pet names | dirty talk | guided masturbation | ball fondling | dom/sub dynamics | sensory deprivation | breath play | phone sex | oral fixation | mutual masturbation | protected sex | ruined orgasms | orgasm denial | hard dom!yoongi | sub!reader | blindfolding kinda? | rough sex | choking | degradation | face down doggy/ass shots | hair pulling | squirting | ass slapping | nipple sucking | multiple orgasms | blowjob | face/throat fucking | yoongi moaning(yes that’s a warning) | oral (male and female receiving) | face slapping | finger sucking | clit biting | gagging | bdsm themes | orgasm control | cum swallowing | praising | cum swapping | forced orgasms | kissing but not the cute kind | aftercare | yoongi’s harsh(no other way to put it) | crying(the good kind) | sex & music | manhandling | sex with no feelings | marking/biting/scratching | possessive!yoongi(like he’s obsessed with marking her up) | pain kink | you’re either going to love me or hate me for the ending | pov switches | lying ass heauxs | toxic behavior because they are wild lol | alcohol consumption | the oc is slightly curvy and brown like me😜 ⤞ rating: 18+  ⤞ a/n: This got way out of hand lol. I tried to write a drabble but it just didn’t work out. I need to first and foremost give a special thanks to my beta readers Bambi @agustdealer & Ryen @kithtaehyung​ for not only looking over this for me but listening to me cry and rip this story apart over and over lol(there may still be some mistakes because I’m a clown and added stuff they didn’t read). I really appreciate your dedication and faith in me. Also, praise needs to be given to the ever so talented Ryen @/kithtaehyung for this amazing banner. She slayed as always. Lastly, thank you Madame Amai @kkulmoon​ for hosting this event. I hope you all enjoy it. Don’t forget to comment, reblog, and leave feedback to let me know what you think.💖
Playlist: Vulture Island V2 by ROB49 ft Lil Baby | It’s Givin’ by Latto | Whole Lotta Money by BIA ft. Nicki Minaj | Thick by O.T. Genasis ft. 2Chainz | MMM MMM by Kali ft. ATL Jacob | Have Mercy by Chlöe Bailey
Read on AO3
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Thank you for completing our questionnaire. Please stay on the line and allow us to find you the perfect match…
With a few basic questions and a two minute wait, he was paired with a woman that sounds rather beautiful. He imagines that she is, at least. Well, he hopes. 
He’s been chatting with her for about an half of a minute, and he’s feeling her. So he doesn’t hang up when the official timer begins.
“So umm…how confidential is this?” He can never be too careful. This could ruin his reputation if someone found out.  “You said you’ve done this before, right?”
“Yeah, it’s safe, love. Trust me.” 
He hopes you’re right. 
“After you complete the questionnaire, they pair you with a random person who has similar preferences.”
He pushes the worrisome thoughts to the back of his mind and proceeds to pleasure himself before time is up. He’s currently living paycheck to paycheck, so fifteen minutes was all he could afford.
“Should I lead or…?”
He scoffs out a laugh. “I got it, babe. Just vibe with me.”
“Okay.” Your response is through small labored breaths. You must be broke as shit too because you aren’t wasting any time. “C-Can you put on some music or something?...I umm, can’t do it  when it’s this quiet.”
He grabs his laptop and allows whatever track is next to travel through the speakers.
Fuck. He forgot about the beats he was playing for someone earlier. Hopefully, it doesn’t ruin your mood before he can change it. “Sorry,” he mutters a bit embarrassed.
“No, this is fine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s sensual,” you pant. His brows knit together in curiosity and he momentarily ceases his movements. “The bass complements your voice well, actually. Did you umm…?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“I like it.” The little moan behind those words has him standing at attention. In any second, he could blow his load.
“Yeah? What else do you like?...Tell me what gets your attention.”
There’s a pause. “Or would you rather me shut up?”
“The opposite. I wanna hear you…your voice. You sound hot,” you giggle and it’s one of the most soothing things he’s ever heard. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You don’t sound bad either…Just hearing you laugh is making me hard.”
He hears a whimper; one of the sexiest, neediest whines to ever grace his ears. “Tell me what you just did. Don’t be shy.”
“I—”
You hesitate, so he steps in.
“Touching your pussy, huh?”
He senses through the phone how worked up he’s getting you. You’ve started panting and moaning out your words shamelessly.
“Mmhm, my clit.”
He chuckles and whispers of curses come through the phone.
“Do me a favor?” you agree and he continues. “Move a little lower and dip your fingers in your pussy. Tell me how wet it is.”
He uses his spit for lubrication and tightens his fist around his cock. He imagines it was your walls snuggled around him, pumping his length as you bounce up and down. Something inside of him believes that you’re pretty, with a nice ass too. A really nice ass, that’s what his fantasies project at least.
“Fuck. How many?” you ask him.
Damn. You’re obedient as well. That’s hot, really hot. 
“As many as your pretty cunt can take.”
When he hears a muffled cry, his bottom lips tucks between his teeth while he concentrates on the squelching sounds coming through the phone. You both move in sync with the music and allow it to take away the nervous jitters the both of you had previously. His cock starts twitching in his palm when your sweet little moans move through his ears.
“How many did you use, sweetheart?”
You answer him in a high-pitched voice. You’re close too, he can hear it. Your eyes are probably screwed shut, trying to keep it together to prolong the call, but he has to go before his bill skyrockets. He needs to get you off—quickly.
“Two. Three, now. I needed more.”
“Greedy, aren’t we?”
“No…I’m just really horny.”
He has to smile at that. “Yeah? Me too. This is good, but I'd rather be balls deep in you.”
“Fuck, I’d like it.”
Sweat beads on his forehead, but he just wipes it away with the back of his hand and keeps going. The music has changed to something more upbeat and he knows this is his shot for home plate.
“Really? Is that why you’re making a mess? I can hear it, you know...you’re so fucking wet.”
“Shit, I wanna come,” your words are barely recognizable and you just keep begging him for more, “please help me.”
“Fuck, sweetheart. Take your fingers out and rub your clit. Spread that sticky shit all over it and get yourself off.”
He throws his head back and curls his toes, bracing himself for the impact of his orgasm. This has to top he sexual encounters and he’s not even touching you. It’s just something about you that’s driving him insane. He doesn’t even know your name, but he doesn’t need to, not when all that matters now is the pleasure of this experience. 
“I’d lick it all up too, eat you out until you cry and forget your own fucking name. You want that, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I wanna feel you so bad.”
“I know, baby. You’d let me take you anyway I’d like, wouldn’t you?...I could bend you over? Dick you down with your legs pinned by your head. I fuck you up, princess and you’d never want another.”
“Fuck, I’m gonna—”
Dead silence. 
“Are you kidding me? Fuck!”
The phone hangs up just as you both reach your climaxes. Disappointment is thick in the air as his quick strokes gradually begin to slow. He groans and curses angrily at the loss, and grips fistfuls of his hair in frustration. Out of all the people for this to happen to; it had to be him. Just when he thought his luck couldn’t get any worse, this happens and proves that life is just out to get him.
“Something’s gotta give, man. I can’t keep living like this.”
So, he shrugs off his needs and does what he does best—work. He puts on his headphones and hopes that one of these tracks will be the one that opens the door to all of his dreams.
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Two years later…
“This is your boy Jay Millz, and you're listening to Q107.9. We got my man Suga in the motherfuckin’ building. This guy has the hottest track on the radio right now, bro. He’s gonna be chilling with us for a minute while we dip into the Rush Hour Mix with DJ Reign. Suga! How you doin’, man?...”
He nods and greets the guy behind the mic. They extend their arms for a brief handshake before he continues. “What’s good? Glad to be here, man.” 
Yoongi looks around the table and sighs. He’s tired of the same fucking questions. 
What’s next for you? How does it feel to be the hottest rapper out right now? Will you sign with SlaughterHouse Records?
As if he’d leave a crumb behind for the tabloids to fight over. Yoongi’s been careful; really careful. He’s worked hard to maintain a decent reputation; besides a few run-ins with the law. But overall, he’s avoided anything that could damage the image he’s created for his pseudo. 
Many have tried to tear him down, or trip him up. However, he knows how to handle those people, and that’s what he’s about to do when the woman across from him asks the question lingering on the tip of her tongue. He knows it’s coming; he can tell by the way her nails tap on the table. She waits for silence and then she goes for the kill.
“So…Suga, you know I have to ask.”
The other co host sighs with an exhausted eyeroll. “Bee, please don’t start.”
“I have to. The people wanna know,” she argues and Yoongi can feel his head starting to throb. 
It’s bad enough that he hates these things and they cannot stop themselves from trying to dabble in his personal life.
“Anyway, are you currently dating anyone, Suga? A fan? A girlfriend?...etc?”
Yoongi looks to his left and gives her a lazy smirk, just fucking with her mind a bit before he responds.
“Nahh, I’m good. Gotta stay focused, you feel me?”
He takes a sip from his cup and savors the cold liquor before he gulps it down, watching the poor girl slump her shoulders in defeat. However, he was a fool to think this was over.
“And what about Mu$ic Fairy?” the interviewer to his right asks.
“What about her?”
He sets down his cup and turns in the man’s direction.
“She dropped a new playlist last night. I know a lot of us would have gone to see about that by now.”
Yoongi scoffs out a laugh. “Well, I’m not a lot of us, am I?”
“Damn right,” Jay chimes in from across the table. He notices Bee shaking her head in the corner and he couldn’t agree with her more. This is ridiculous. 
This girl, “Mu$ic Fairy” or whatever she calls herself is nothing but a fucking distraction. No one can resist bringing her up when he’s in the room. There’s no fucking escape.
At first, it was cute. A few Spotify playlists dropped every once in a while with a rather risqué cover just to tease, but now it’s an entire movement. Some fans are even calling themselves fairies, and wearing themed attire to his performances. 
He fucking hates it. The wings, the glitter, the overly sweet tones in which they speak. Of course, he appreciates his fans and they’re fun to look at, but Yoongi’s a picky guy. And if that’s the kind of girl you are, then you aren’t his type.
“I would’ve probably hit her up after she dropped the Fre@kii Ho @nthem! playlist.” 
Jay bumps fists with the other guy host after he says that and they have a “same” moment.
Bee adds her input after it quiets down.
“Well, I’m going to have to agree with—”
“Do not…say her name around me,” Yoongi intervenes.
He can’t; not when he has a show tonight. Just hearing her name pisses him off. 
Another reason he hates doing interviews is because someone always has to mention…
“Oh, are you talking about that podcaster?...Damn, what’s her name…”
Jay struggles to remember while snapping his fingers, so Bee attempts to help him out. However, Yoongi cuts her off before she can speak of the devil.
“Don’t you dare.”
The woman once again backs down and carries on.
“Well anyway, I agree with you know who. She makes valid points about how none of these people were after him before he started making industry music. They don’t really fuck with the real Suga.”
Yoongi only nods his head because the annoying bitch behind that podcast is right. This Mu$ic Fairy chick started showing up when he became popular and so did her followers. But that’s about one of the only things he agrees with. Everything else is out of line. This woman doesn’t know anything about him, but yet always has an input to give when it comes to his music.
One of the interviewers notices his change in demeanor and senses the hatred he has for this chick. He steps in and changes the subject quickly.
“Shit, we’re almost out of time. That’s what happens when you’re chillin’ with one of the greatest to ever do it.”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Nahh, man. Don’t put that on me yet. Give me some time.”
“Many would have to disagree with you there, bro. Matter of fact, you should ask them. Why don’t you tell the listeners where you’re gonna be tonight?”
“Yuh, tonight you can catch me at the Varsity. Tickets sold out, but yeah…fuck with me.”
The interviewers briefly share a round of applause before Jay concludes.
“Alright. You heard him. Tickets sold out, but who knows ladies…he might just take you home for the after party, right bro?”
Yoongi can only press his lips in a straight line because anyone that knows him, knows that a piece of ass is the last thing on his mind right now, but for the sake of some poor girl’s imagination…
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
And because of this, he’s probably going to have to fight his way out of the club.
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The rush Yoongi gets from being on stage always lingers in his veins even after the music stops. The crowd keeps the energy going and going. They scream his name, applaud his techniques, and praise his stage presence like he’s a king. He is, in a way. Suga is the king of this city; there isn’t a guy who doesn’t want to be him or a woman who doesn’t want to fuck him.
Typically, temptation is easy to resist since his career leaves him little time for extracurricular activities. However, sometimes he just can’t allow something to slip away. Not again.
“You killed it tonight, man.” 
Yoongi doesn’t even spare his manager a glance as he brushes past him. His train of vision is focused on that little black dress swaying through the crowd. If he takes his eyes off of you for a second, he knows he’ll lose you in the mass of people.
“Thanks, dude. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
He doesn’t know what was said in response because he’s out of range within seconds. He’s a man on a mission, and he’s not even sure of why. 
You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that—and sexy. But something else about you is just luring him in, and he thinks he knows why. At least, that’s his excuse for following you outside of the club. 
It’s dangerous, of course, since anyone could be waiting to get him alone. But tonight he can’t let you just leave without a word. He’s done that too many times. You show up to show after show, stare him down as if he’s your last meal, then leave without even a wave or goodbye.
Yoongi’s had enough; this ends now.
“Hey!”
You immediately stop in your tracks at the sound of his voice. He wastes no time trying to eliminate the distance between you, but you dash down an adjacent alley before he can get close enough to talk to you. 
He follows you, and calls out to you one more time before you halt and finally respond to him.
“Hey there.” 
Your voice is so dulcet, but edgy…and familiar. Where has he heard it before? 
“Looking for me?” The closer he gets the more clearer the sound becomes and eventually it clicks. He knows exactly why he knows your voice.
But you aren’t the person he thought you were, and you’re the last person he wants to see.
“You’re that podcaster, aren’t you?” Yoongi questions, approaching you carefully. At least his mind still holds the common sense to be cautious. 
When you look over shoulder, it’s like his breath leaves his body. He’s seen his share of gorgeous women, but you are out of this world. There’s no way you could be her. But everything is telling him that you are.
“Depends…who wants to know?” 
Yoongi doesn’t know where to look first. Your face or the body that comes along with it. “You or the bitches who want to be like me?”
The moment he’s close enough to hear the cockiness oozing from your voice, he knows it’s you without a doubt. He can feel the same aura radiating from you now that he does whenever he listens to those podcasts. You’re her; he’s a hundred percent sure of it.
“So you’re bold behind the mic, but now you’re too pussy to look at me?”
You turn around on queue, adorning a wide smirk that he’d give anything to wipe off your gorgeous face. “Better?”
Yoongi nods slowly and takes a few steps towards you. With every step he takes you move backwards, allowing him to corner you and in the dimly lit alley. 
“It’s funny because with all the shit you talk on air, I didn’t take you to be a runner,” he points out.
“I don’t think you know me well enough to assume that, love.”
“But you know me well enough to critique my music?”
You hum. “I do, actually.”
“Really?” When your back nearly touches the brick wall, he leans in a little closer. You show no signs of uneasiness so he plants his palm on brick structure and hovers over your shorter frame. “What makes you believe that?”
“Because I’ve been a fan for a very long time. Ever since your underground days. You’ve never noticed me…but I was there.”
When he gives you a look, you roll your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe a word that pretty mouth of yours spits out.
“Your first real gig was on your birthday. You were a senior in high school and you invited your parents to the show. You looked around and when you finally saw them you smiled like a fucking dork.”
Damn. You read him like a book, but that doesn’t make up for the negativity spilled on your behalf.
“So you’ve been following me to shows so you can build up the repertoire for your little podcast? For how long?”
You shake your head in denial. 
“I followed you because you’ve always been my favorite artist. I admire you, and I’ve been around since the beginning. Even when nobody was fucking with your music…your real music. The kind you’re passionate about.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Like you would know anything about that.”
“But, I do. That’s why I’m so pissed at you. All you make is industry music now, and I’m just…bored, I guess.”
You’re cute when you shrug your shoulders, but your eyes are lethal. He feels like he’s being stripped bare under your gaze. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were silently flirting with him, but they’d be a reach.
“So find a hobby,” he suggests.
“I did find hobbies. The podcast, the playlists, the—”
“Wait,” Yoongi’s face contorts with confusion at those words, believing that he’s misheard you, “...you said playlists. What playlists?”
Your smirk returns and Yoongi suddenly feels his cock slowly rising in his underwear. Why do the heavens place the demons in the most beautiful women; he’ll never understand.
“You know which playlists I’m talking about, love…” your hand makes a move to touch his shoulder but he grabs your arm to prevent contact, “they were made for you.”
“Made for me? What does…”
Oh, damn.
“Are you…?”
“Well, it sure isn’t the whore in there dressed like Tinkerbell. You think I’d wear that shit?” Your laugh is so intoxicating; he almost cracks a smile just standing there watching you. “I don’t need all of that to grasp your attention. I never have.”
Yoongi shakes his head. All this time you were right under his nose. Two women he could never stand to mention are placed right in front of him, hiding behind a goddess. It’s pure comedy; his reaction to the news should have him pulling away from you and heading in the opposite direction.
But can admit that he judges a book by its cover; you aren’t what he thought you were. You’re different, interesting…someone he’d actually like to have underneath him in the opportunity ever presents itself. But he’s confused…why him? Why go through all the trouble if the music is all you care about? That whole Mu$ic Fairy concept has completely fucked with his mind. 
How does he go from having no interest to wanting to see what it’s all about? There has to be more to it; otherwise, it makes no sense. You two are strangers. 
He shouldn’t crave the warmth beneath his palm while his hand grips your forearm, but he does. The skin to skin contact should not arouse him so easily, but there’s no denying the bulge forming in his pants. Despite all of this, Yoongi keeps his composure the best he can; you’re too cocky for him to just slip up and expose himself.
“Out of all the times to fuck with me…” he pauses when your beautiful glossed lips part to blow the strawberry bubblegum you’ve been chewing. Your tongue darts out to pop and collect the medium-sized pink bubble, and he can feel his knees buckle when you suck it back in. 
He’s usually not this fond of people and gum, but the way you handle it, the way you slowly rolled it over your tongue in preparation was a fucking sinful, and he can’t get enough of watching you do it. 
“Why tonight?” he asks you.
You bat your thick lashes, probably knowing good and well what you’re doing to him. He knows you’re taunting him, silently asking for him to make a move, but he won’t. You’ll have to beg him for it.
“Because…I’m horny, and I’m tired of waiting for your clueless ass to figure this out.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Bullshit.” 
He looks down as your finger loops underneath one of his chains and tugs him closer, something he wouldn’t allow anyone to do, but somehow you already earned privileges. You don’t know how dangerous of a game you’re playing with him, but he silently prays you’ll get to find out. He’d give anything to bend over the hood of his car and—
“And, I think you owe me something,” you inform, placing your other hand on his shoulder once he slides his to your waist.
“What might that be, love?”
Your smirk widens as you hypnotize him with your brown orbs. He can smell your perfume and flavored gum even better from this proximity, and your scent makes him feel like he’s in some sort of blissful haze—intoxicated by the smell of you. It’s no secret that he wants you bad; he just can’t let you know that. Not until you tell him why you’re doing all of this.
“An orgasm.”
Everything grows quiet after you articulate those words. It only takes him a couple of seconds to remember, and when his mind processes it all, his brain nearly malfunctions as he tries to speak.
“You’re fucking with me,” he insists.
“You should know by now that I’m tired of the games, Yoongi.” His body shutters when you use his real name. Something he’d normally go off about, but he never wants you to stop saying it. He needs to hear you say it again; for an entirely different reason. “You can tell me to fuck off, if you want.”
He blinks a few times, not realizing he was just standing there and not saying anything.
“No, no. I’m just–wow…I never expected you to remember me.”
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday you’re matched with your favorite rapper on a sex hotline,” you wink and Yoongi’s mouth falls open.
“You knew it was me the whole time?...and you didn’t say anything?”
You nod. “Yeah, I did. Your voice, your demeanor; I knew from the start, but I played along because you obviously weren’t on the call to talk about mixtapes. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself, I guess.”
“This is fucking crazy.”
Yoongi’s speechless. That was kind, and you kept it a secret all this time. Suddenly, all of this seems kind of sexy. It’s a secret he could have been in on if only he had read between the lines. However, he knows now, and it’s still technically still a secret…if it stays between you and him.
Your lips are once again his main focus; he’s so close to living the fantasies he had of you all those nights he wondered about how you handled yourself after the phone call ended. Did you come? Or was your mood ruined like his? He sure hopes not, because you were incredible and if anyone deserved to finish, it should have been you. 
He was right about you too. You are sexy, and the longer he stands here with you, the harder it is for him to hold back on his urges. But hearing your needy voice breaks him entirely.
“How much longer am I going to have to wait for it, Yoongi?”
All regards for his reputation goes out the window. He looks towards both ends of the alley before he makes his move. Anyone could be watching, but once he feels your hands sliding up his body, he decides that that is no longer his concern.
“Come here.”
Yoongi grabs you by your throat, but doesn’t squeeze or choke you. He just wants you closer, and your eyes tell him you understand where he’s going from.
“I live 20 minutes away from here, think you can wait that long?”
“Do I have a choice?” you reply and that sass is what gets him riled up.
He doesn’t think twice about kissing your pillow soft lips. He’s been staring at them, wishing he could feel them, taste them, and now he is and he already can’t get enough. The level of sweetness on his taste buds is sinful, but it’s one addiction he’d never give up. 
His tongue enters your mouth without any resistance from you, and he eagerly explores its depths, getting familiar with the woman wrapped in his arms as if he has all the time in the world with you. Your moans sends vibrations through his throat when he lifts your leg, nuzzling his crotch against your heat. 
Yoongi would fuck you right now while he has you pinned against this wall but that just wouldn’t satisfy his thirst for you. You’ve been teasing him for too long for him to just rush this. It took two years to lead up to this moment, a quickie would never do it any justice.
“I need you to be on your best behavior until we get to my place,” he tells you through his slightly labored breaths.
“And if I don’t?”
His features harden. 
“Then you won’t get anything, now come on. Let’s dip before one of your friends sees me without security.” 
Or…before he changes his mind. He’s had plenty of bad ideas, but this tops the list.
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Breathtaking.
It’s the only thing you can think about as your eyes scan over the sleek hood of the Lamborghini Gallardo. The man’s got some taste, you have to admit. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be taking you to his place. You like the fact that he’s picky, but always chooses correctly.
You drink in the sight before—Yoongi standing there in his stage outfit, complimenting his car. The vehicle’s custom, all white except for the tires and the heavily tinted windows. You could only quiver at the image of him driving it, and when it actually happens, your mind and your mouth start to go in different directions.
He asks you basic questions like your name and where you’re from; you can only hope you’ve given him the correct answers because you cannot break away from the visual of him gripping the wheel with one hand while he’s laid back in his seat. His jewelry glistens and shines even in the darkness of his car, but your eyes still fight through the nearly blinding twinkle so you can watch the man behind it all.
You’ve wanted him since you first saw him. He came to a pep rally at your high school and you fell in love with his music and his sound—his voice especially. Sure he was a cutie, still is. But he had so much hunger, so much passion for music that you felt him on a spiritual level. 
He did so well on his first performance, and you remember telling your friends how much you wanted to listen to his Soundcloud when the event was over. Of course, they laughed and thought he sucked because he didn’t fit their visual standards, but now…they probably wish they’d been a little more invested in him.
“Can you stop doing that and answer my question?” 
There it is again. That voice. It drives you crazy; when he said hello to you on that hotline, you knew without a doubt you were talking to your favorite rapper.
“Wha–Doing what?”
“Eye fucking me and biting your lip like that. Do you want me to pull over?” 
Well.
You open your mouth to speak but he interjects.
“Actually, never mind. Don’t even answer that. Certain things I don’t need in my head while I’m operating a vehicle.”
Your neck and face heat up. If only he knew that you aren’t as confident as you appear. He’s hot, but the fact that he doesn’t know it makes him hotter.
“Sorry,” you turn towards the window so you can smile. You don’t want to feed his ego. No matter how much he denies it, he’s cocky as hell. If he knows you’re gawking over him simply driving, he’ll run with it. “...What did you ask me?”
A slow exhale leaves his lips, like he’s slightly annoyed and you should be offended, but damn—it was kind of sexy.
“I just wanted to know what you do for a living. How can you afford to travel and come to shows all the time? ...I’m just curious.”
“Why? You think I’m selling my—”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were thinking it, and the answer is ‘no’. And no, I don’t have an OnlyFans either…probably should, though. I’d make bank,” you shrug.
“Look, I know you aren’t doing any of that. Honestly, you seem kind of selfish with the goods anyway, but…tell me how you keep up. That’s all I’m saying. Podcasts bring in that much money?”
“No they don’t, especially when you do them for free. I’m a writer. I write songs and I sell them to some of your favorite artists.”
Yoongi whistles. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Name a few.”
“This isn’t roll call, babe. If you wanna look up my credentials, you know my name now…Google me.”
“Oh, I will.”
“Fine,” you scoff.
When you look forward, you notice that you’re entering a gated community. Yoongi lets down his window and waves at the on-duty guard before the older man opens the automatic gate. 
After driving past many luxurious homes, Yoongi pulls into a driveway and uses a clicker to open the garage door. 
“We’re here,” he announces.
His home is lovely, and you’re in awe by the set up and interior design once you enter. You’re impressed, most guys don’t spend much thought on this level of organization. 
Yoongi leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering more and more as you get closer to the top of the stairs. Your knees buckle slightly when he opens the door, but your eyes still look in every direction once you’ve made it inside.
It’s dark, but you can still make out the colors that fill the room. Blacks and grays with white walls. His bed is draped with a dark set; you can’t help but find it inviting. And it’s huge; you imagine he must be a wild sleeper because you couldn’t imagine sleeping in a bed that large alone.
“I love your home, Suga.”
He waves his hand. “Thanks, but you don’t have to call me that. You didn’t call me that earlier.”
“I didn’t?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head and tells you that you can make yourself comfortable while he disappears into his closet. When he returns with clothes, you tilt your head with curiosity. “I’m gonna go shower, don’t get too nosey while you’re in here by yourself.”
“You’re leaving me? Why can’t I join you?”
Yoongi’s eyes widen for a second and a hand runs through his hair while he ponders over his answer. “Because umm…”
You crane your neck trying to coax an answer but he still stammers.
“It’s…you know.”
You smile. He’s kind of adorable, in a way.
“Too intimate?”
“Exactly.”
Your head lolls back while you laugh and Yoongi huffs in annoyance as he makes his way to the bathroom. 
“What am I supposed to do while you’re in there?” you call out and he stops to turn around.
You watch him get ready to produce a smart remark. However, he pauses before he can get it out. He puts his clothes on the bed and walks over to the nightstand, turning on his laptop and grabbing some Bluetooth headphones from the drawer.
“Here,” he says, pairing them to his computer and then handing them to you. You take them before you look up at him, wondering where he’s going with this, but he’s quick to fill you in. “Listen to this, I won’t be long.”
Yoongi puts on some music and gives you a wink that makes your pussy clench. He leaves you sitting on his bed, headphones in hand without another word. 
For the first minute you stare at the object wondering what’s being played, but your curiosity takes over quickly and before you know it, they’re coming over your ears. You don’t regret it the second you hear his voice. 
The music begins to travel through the speakers, you become obsessed with it from the very first track. You love that it’s similar to his original sound, but it isn’t the same track over and over again. They’re all so different yet so him. You can hear and feel the amount of dedication and effort he put into it. Like it wasn’t done out of obligation, but because he wanted to do it for himself. You can’t help but get up and sway your hips to the music. 
You feel so connected to him through his work, and that’s why you go on and on about how you wish he’d make another mixtape because this shit is fire. You wonder how long he’s been hiding it from the world.
You aren’t expecting him to be sitting on the bed when you turn around. Your hand finds your chest and you lower the volume on the headset.
“How long have you been sitting there? You fucking scared me.”
He shrugs. “Long enough to know that I want that dress off of you.”
Your startled expression turns smug. “Oh, really?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“So…you want me to take it off?” You raise an eyebrow.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re going to have to use your words with me if you want something.”
Yoongi’s arms fold at his chest; his white tee strains against his beefiness. You remember how his clothes used to swallow him, but now he’s filling them up quite nicely, if you may. Either way, he looks good. It’s just a natural trait he possesses.
“I mean either you can take it off or you can leave. Doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugs his shoulders.
If you weren’t horny just looking at him sitting there in his boxers, you’d call his bluff. But you’ve already picked up on his stubbornness and you know better than to try him. “Fine.”
You sigh as you drag down the straps of your dress, rolling your eyes when he tells you to slow down. You flip your hair and twirl your body as you wiggle the fabric down your hips, turning around in the opposite direction to give him a peek at your derriere. 
Looking over your shoulder, you notice how his face becomes etched with approval. You give yourself a silent applaud for selecting this piece. You’re sure your thong leaves nothing for his imagination. It also doesn’t help that you’re topless.
You stop torturing him and turn around so he can see the front.
“Damn,” is all he can say.
You take off your heels before walking towards him and his eyes never leave your breasts the entire journey, even once you’re standing between his legs, preparing to straddle his lap.
“I want you.” You tell him as if he doesn’t already know. 
Yoongi’s hands find your waist while you place your knees on the bed. As soon as you’re on his lap, you can feel his bulge threatening to burst out of his underwear. It’d be so simple to pull your panties aside and milk him for everything he has, but not tonight. He’s the one who owes you a good fucking.
“How badly?”
His lips find your skin and make their way to your tits, making you clutch onto his damp curly strands while he sucks and tugs on your sensitive nipples. Your hands tug his hair, and you force him to look at your face.
“Yoongi. You’re either going to fuck me or I’m going to fuck you. What’s it going to be—”
He scoops you up and drops you on the mattress, making you squeak in surprise. The dark gleam in his orbs has your thighs rubbing and your fists clinging onto the comforter. He's finally had enough, and hopefully he doesn’t hold back anymore.
“You asked for this,” he warns you and you almost giggle with glee. He pulls his shirt over his head and is about to toss it somewhere, but then he changes his mind. Yoongi looks at you for a moment, contemplating before he speaks. “You trust me, right?”
“Well, I came home with you even though you hate me, didn’t I?...Why do you ask?”
“So a lot or a little?”
You groan. 
He chuckles and you feel the butterflies once again. Yoongi turns the volume up on his laptop before holding up a thumb to ask if it is too loud. Honestly, you’re glad it tuned him out because though you understand that safety is first, there’s little you wouldn’t try when it comes to this man. You’ve been waiting as patiently as you could to experience this and you’re ready to get started.
You nod and his devilish smirk is the last thing you see before he throws his shirt over your head. Darkness fills your vision but it doesn’t bother you as long as his voice is filling your ears. His cold hands slide up your thighs and spread them, wasting no time in touching your slightly sodden underwear.
Gasps escape your lips when his finger presses gently on your clit, and you can only hope the sound isn’t too awkward since you cannot hear yourself. 
The bed dips so you assume he’s climbing on and you release a breath when you feel his lips hovering over your body. He leaves kisses between your breasts and he doesn’t stop until your lace panties prevent him from accessing any more skin.
Yoongi quickly slides them off, leaving lying on his bed completely naked. Everything from the moment when his tongue dips into your center is one feverish bliss. Your back arches, your toes curl, and your fingers entangle in his hair. The sounds you’re making are probably feral and of an obnoxious volume but Yoongi doesn’t bother to shush you or stop his sinful movements. 
He draws circles over your throbbing clit with his tongue, moving in the same motion as you do as you swivel your hips. This song has you in the mood to grind your pussy on his face, and that’s entirely his fault for coming up with such vulgar lyrics. It’s filthy and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening by the seconds. You scream his name over and over but he just keeps going until you release the pressure built up inside of you.
The shirt is snatched off your face as you’re at your peak and what you see between your thighs only intensifies your orgasm. His face is buried in your heat, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and nibbling gently while you squirm in his iron grip.
Yoongi kisses your inner thighs once you begin to calm down to help you relax. When you back slowly droop onto the bed is when he carefully removes the headphones, turning them off and then setting them on the nightstand next to his laptop.
“I would go back for seconds, but that would only make me want more,” he tells you. He opens the bottom drawer and pulls out some condoms then throws them on the bed.
“I don’t know if I’d survive that.”
“Well, you better say a prayer because we aren’t done,” he laughs and excitement bubbles inside of you.
Yoongi switches the music to something else and you can’t help but pout. 
You sigh. “I pray you aren’t all talk.”
He glares at you for your comment and steps closer to the bed. 
“You’re a sweet girl, but…” he flips you on your stomach and pulls you up by the waist, positioning you so that your ass and pussy are directly in his line of sight, “you need to watch how you fucking speak to me.”
A shriek leaves your lips when he slaps your ass. “Yoongi…please.”
“Please? You want me to stop?”
“No!” Your voice is high pitched and shaky, almost unrecognizable to your ears. “Don’t stop, please.”
Yoongi finds humor in your desperation. “Ask me nicely.”
“Fuck,” you whine but it’s the wrong answer. “Yoongi, please do it again.”
“No.”
Your breath hitches. “What?”
“I said no.”.
“Such a fucking asshole,” you mumble insults, thinking they’re too low for him to hear.
“What was that?”
You look behind you and notice Yoongi rolling a condom over his dick. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of those veiny hands stroking his cock slowly, preparing himself to dive into your wetness. You’ve always wondered what he looked like doing that, ever since that time on the phone.
“Nothing,” you lie.
He puts his knee on the bed and inches closer to you. You tease him by wiggling your ass a little but he places a hand on your hip to still you. “You know…”
You can feel his cock against your entrance and your body pushes back on him to try and get it inside of you yourself. However, your impatience makes you forget how petty the man behind you really is.
The tip slips past your folds and with the amount of arousal seeping from your opening, he’s able to slide in with ease. But it’s only a taste; the majority of his cock still remains outside of you, and quickly your frustration takes control of you.
“If you wanna meet an asshole…” he makes a loud gasp leave your lips when he, without warning, slams into your pussy in one smooth motion. You whimper; a harsh snatch of your hair makes you wince and grip the sheets. Your head is turned in an uncomfortable position, but the only thing you can focus on is the intensity of the stretch and the way his dick doesn’t leave any room to spare, “I could introduce you to one.”
Yoongi pushes your head forward and pins you to the mattress. Your teeth grit together because of your sensitivity. You could come just like this without him even moving. That’s how worked up you still are. You just need a moment to pull yourself together, but Yoongi doesn’t have the patience for that.
“Arch your fucking back.”
He pulls out but swiftly snaps back into you, causing you to let out a squeak. You try to cover your mouth but his large hand comes down on your ass before you can do so. Your moans turn into screams within minutes, increasing in volume each time Yoongi slaps your rear.
“I know you can do better than that. Straighten up before I do it for you,” he grunts through the lewd skin-slapping noises that fill the room.
You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back like he demands. The position is only uncomfortable for a few seconds, but eventually it becomes familiar and the sensitivity ebbs away.
Yoongi lets go of your hair and starts rubbing his hands all over your ass, kneading the reddened flesh and giving it words of appreciation.
When you start to fuck him back he holds your waist and pulls you back on his cock. Your body begins to move naturally with the rhythm of the background music and he allows you to set the pace while he whispers obscene remarks.
“Look at you taking it just like a whore.” 
You can feel the arousal between your thighs, dripping and making a mess of the sheets. The squelching sounds are disgusting but don’t phase you in this heated moment. You have more important things to worry about. Like how long you’ll be able to keep this up. You weren’t expecting him to have this much stamina, but you’ve learned to never judge a book by the cover.
He’s strong, the grip he has on you is evidence to that. The way he’s handling you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy he can use at his discretion has you clenching around his dick. His deep chuckle fills the room when he feels your walls tighten.
“On your next podcast, you should tell them how I fucked your brains out to your own playlist,” he comments.
Yoongi’s thrusts have your knees trembling and nearly giving out, but he’s quick to assure that you keep up. “No fucking slacking, whore. Do better or I’ll pull out and use your throat instead.”
You’re sure your ass will be sore in the morning because Yoongi cannot keep his hands off of it. He strikes you every chance he gets and the stinging sensation from his blows push you closer and closer to your peak.
“Fuck. Yoongi…please.”
Tears roll down your cheek when his cock travels deeper, touching the spot that makes you unravel at the seams. It’s all too much and you beg him to allow you to surrender to the pleasure.
“Not yet. Shit, do you have any idea how juicy your ass looks like this?”
“But I can’t,” you sob into the comforter.
A slap to your left cheek leaves you a shaky mess. However, he shows you no mercy and does the same thing to the other side.
“That’s not an option. If you come, I swear—”
“Sorry…” Your muffled cries are the last thing you can recall before your body accidentally gives in.
Your juices leak onto the bed while you hold on for dear life, afraid you’ll float away if you let go of the fabric. But just as your orgasm reaches its peak, it’s ripped away from you  by one of the foulest humans on this planet.
“What the fuck did I tell you?” he growls as he drags you off the bed. Yoongi forces you to your knees, ignoring your pleas to regain what was stolen from you. He slaps your cheek a few times, snapping you back into reality and demanding your attention. “Answer me!”
“You…You told me not to come,” you hiccup.
His expression tells you how displeased he is, but it’s too bad that you don’t care. Something comes over you that has you sucking it up and wiping your tears. If he wants to play dirty, you can do it too.
“So why did you?...I never said that you could.”
You look up at him with innocent eyes. However, you have no intentions on being good anymore.
“Because it felt good and I wanted to,” you tell him and he grabs your face.
“You don’t get to decide what you want to do or what feels good. If you had the answers you wouldn’t have been begging for my dick for two years.”
Yoongi pulls off the condom and brings his cock to your mouth. You clench your fist to hold back the excitement when he tells you to open. You’ve craved the taste of him even though you’ve never had him. Your mouth waters as you wait for him to enter, and when he does, he doesn’t stop until reaches the back of your throat.
“Tap my thigh if you need air, and do not suck until I tell you to, understand?”
You mumble around him as best as you can. “Mmhm.”
Before you can prepare yourself for a pace you know will be relentless, Yoongi withdraws and slowly re-enters your crevice. Your eyes roll back from the fullness and addicting taste of him. You want more—need more to fulfill your desire.
Ignoring his instructions, you enclose your lips around him and begin to suck him in each time he tries to pull out. “Easy,” he warns but you keep going.
One of your hands comes up to fondle his balls and Yoongi’s deep moans begin to fill your ears. He throws his head back in pleasure while you give him, what you would consider, the best blowjob of his life. The sound he produces is the only music you want to hear. His voice holds so much lust and bass, arousal gushes from your cunt as a result.
“Fuck, I told you not to do that.”
You hum around him, sending vibrations up his shaft. The feeling brings him to his senses and he places both his hands on your head. You have to grab onto his thighs to keep yourself steady since he’s starting to take control. You try to maintain the suction but his wild movements make it impossible.
“You wanted to suck me off so badly. Keep it up,” he grunts, increasing his speed.
You choke on his dick and the sounds make him twitch in your mouth. Yoongi starts to intentionally go deeper, but he’s unsatisfied by the lack of space there is for him.
He pulls out of you, leaving you coughing and gasping at the sudden intake of air.
“Well, damn. Do I have to teach you how to suck dick too?”
Yoongi shakes his head as he looks down on you then uses his index and middle finger to open your mouth. He pushes the digits in and finds the back of your mouth with ease, pressing on the back of your tongue to make you open wider. “Stop being shy and open this pretty fucking mouth,” he demands, making you gag on his fingers.
Your eyes water and spit drips down your chin. You must look like a complete mess, but Yoongi cannot take his eyes off of you. 
“Now show me, and I’ll give you some more.”
You’re scolded before you can even wrap your lips around his fingers. 
“Stop being fucking lazy.” He gives your cheek a few more slaps before shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth. 
This time you slurp and allow your saliva to coat his digits. ”Fucking, right. Now open up and milk this dick.”
Yoongi removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock. This time you just open your mouth and let him in. He uses your head like a fleshlight and drills into you at a rapid speed. You try your best to keep eye contact and breath through your nose, but then out of nowhere he buries his cock down your throat.
There’s an intense burning in your airways due to lack of oxygen but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The rush takes you so high you become slightly lightheaded, sending a tingling sensation straight to your center. Nothing but music, the sound of you choking on his dick, and his sound of pleasure can be heard and the way he calls your name sends your ego through the roof.
“Shit, I’m gonna come. Stay just like this, sweetheart.”
Within five long thrusts, his warm seed deposits on your tastebuds. You try to swallow everything but he pulls out quickly and empties the rest on your lips and chin. Your tongue tries to gather as much as you can, but some places are impossible to reach. 
“Come here.” Yoongi pulls you from the floor and brings you closer, greeting you with a sloppy kiss once you’re on your feet. He laps up all the cum on your face and gathers it all on his tongue before he feeds it to you. You savor the taste of both of you as the kiss prolongs, and even after he pulls away you can’t help but remember how good he tasted.
If you had to guess which body part Yoongi favors the most, you’d say it was your lips. He can’t tear his eyes away from them. You bite them, he shudders. You lick them, his cock twitches. So you can’t control yourself when it comes to teasing him and pressing them against his soft skin.
“You must want another round if you keep that up,” he mentions as you make your way to his earlobe. You nibble on it gently before you whisper in his ear.
“I just wanna come one more time before you kick me out.”
“Who said I was kicking you out?”
“You aren’t?”
Yoongi ushers you to his bed and helps you lie down before he joins you. He hovers over you once again and his hand snakes between your thighs.
“I definitely am, but not right now. I’m not done with you,” he informs, fingers entering your heat while his thumb caresses your clit.
“Well, hurry up then.”
He frowns. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Yeah, whenever someone has the balls to make me shut up—”
“Interesting,” he states after his hand pins your neck to the mattress. “Let’s test that theory.”
Yoongi’s digits begin to move in and out of your wetness, producing more lewd noises and causing your body to shake with sensitivity.
“Yoongi.”
His name flows past your lips like water. It’s the only word you can think of at the moment. Having been worked up all this time with no relief makes you desperate to satisfy the lingering desire that’s settled in the pit of your stomach.
“Feels good, huh?”
It feels damn good. Your hips buck off the bed to match his movements so you can chase your high. “Yes…more.”
“More?”
His hand tightens its grip and restricts your air supply. He knows how close to the edge it takes you by now and he doesn’t hesitate to use it against you.
“Say please and I’ll make you come all over my fingers,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t respond like this.
You try to speak, but everything gets trapped in your throat. You can only claw at his chest, begging him to guide you to your release. He loosens his grip and through your coughs you manage to give him the answer he wants.
“Please. I can’t take it.”
Yoongi gives you a fake pout, squeezing your face between his fingers. “But you can…watch this.”
His fingers curl inside of you and you’re seeing stars. Your nails dig into his arm, body arching off the bed due to the intense wave of pleasure that hits you. You try to run, but he pins you down and forces you to accept the mind-blowing orgasm you were begging for.
“You talked a bunch of shit, now back it up, love,” Yoongi tells you while your walls clench around him. His hand covers your mouth, preventing your screams from waking up the neighbors as if it isn’t already too late for that. “Let’s see if this cunt’s worth the headache.”
The coil snaps and your body stiffens. Yoongi’s deep voice continues to degrade you as your juices squirt all over his bed. Even though you cry out from the sensitivity he fucks you until the last drop. Your body just falls on the bed once he’s done with you, and you move into a fetal position when he carefully slides out his fingers.
The aftershock of your release has you twitching, but the bliss you feel is superior. This is what it feels like to get fucked out, and you knew he would be the person to deliver. Satisfied would be an understatement because you weren’t expecting to be stuck like this after you were done. Usually, you’re able to get up and go before they can return from the bathroom, but tonight you can only lay there in silence while Yoongi cleans you up with a warm cloth.
“I didn’t break you, huh?”
“The opposite, actually,” you laugh weakly.
“Good.” He lays his body beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, enjoying the familiar beat that plays into the dark room. It’s your phone sex song; the beat he played to help you relax. “Remember this?”
“Yeah, how can I forget?”
“You keep saying that like I’m always on your mind.”
“Maybe you are,” you reply.
A soft scoff comes from behind you. “I hope you’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
There’s silence, then eventually a long sigh. 
“I want you gone before I wake up, okay?”
You shake your head. Not in disbelief because it’s what you expected, but because he can’t read between the lines. But you aren’t naïve and you know when someone wants you just as bad as you want them. So for now, you’ll be patient.
“Fair enough,” you answer.
Satisfied, he rolls over and drifts off into sleep, leaving you awake to wallow in your thoughts. It seemed best to just get up and leave then, but it takes nearly an hour to regain your strength. And just when you think it’s safe for you to slip away and consider this night one of the good memories, the warmth you felt before returns and pulls you closer—it is then that your eyes become heavy and you submit to the comfort you know you aren’t supposed to have.
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When Yoongi wakes up and finds a cold empty bed, he can only throw his head back in frustration. He hopes…no, he prays he didn’t say anything to make you feel like he wasn’t interested. He knows he can be a dick, but he was just pissed and horny last night. You’re not easy to handle, but he likes that about you. You aren’t afraid to put him in his place.
He rolls out of bed and the first thing he notices is that his laptop is still playing music, so he makes turning it off his first task. However, once he enters the password, he finds an opened document with a typed note in the center of the page.
If you ever think of me, just call...If you want?
Yoongi’s speechless, and out of his damn mind. That’s the only excuse he has for picking up his phone and calling the number you left at 9 am in the damn morning. The longer the phone rings, the more regret fills him. He can’t help but think you left that there to tease him for calling you so quickly. He tries to hang up but before he can remove the phone from his ear the ringing stops and your beautiful voice blesses him once again.
“Hello?”
He panics, and doesn’t respond. He searches the room frantically and finds his excuse lying on the floor right in front of him.
“Yeah, you left your earring. Looks expensive,” he murmurs before he clears his throat.
“Oh, I’m wearing both of mine now. Must be for someone else.”
Embarrassment washes over him as he stands there naked in his bedroom. How could he be so stupid? That thing’s probably months old, if not longer. He wonders if you saw it. Maybe that’s why you left.
“I’m kidding, Yoongi. If it’s a gold hoop, it’s mine,” you laugh and he feels a weight left from his shoulders. 
The idea of you finding stuff that belongs to other women in his home doesn’t put a good feeling in his chest. He also doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who lets anyone in his home because he’s not that kind of guy. 
“Haha, you’re so funny,” he says once your giggles cease. 
“And you’re sarcastic.”
Still sharp as hell. He thinks to himself.
“Whatever.” He takes a seat on his bed and rests his back against the headboard while he checks emails on his laptop and uses small talk to melt away the awkwardness. “So…you left in a hurry, huh?”
Smooth.
“You told me you wanted me gone before you woke up, remember?”
Of course, he did. Because he’s an idiot.
“Yeah, I was just fucking with you, though. I would have given you a ride or something, you know.”
“No worries. I made it to my hotel room safely,” you assure and he releases a sigh of relief. 
“Well, that’s good. Glad to hear that.”
“Mmhm, miss me already, huh?...too bad you kicked me out.”
“Honestly, I thought I was gonna wake up to some tits in my face, but that’s fair.”
There’s some shuffling in the background like you’re moving something, but he doesn’t ask any questions about it.
“Can you remember anything from last night?” you ask him after a beat of silence.
His fingers run through his hair as he thinks about all the filthy images replaying in his mind.
“Well yeah, I remember you, of course. You were fucking incredible. But everything after that moment was a blur. Please don’t tell me I did something stupid.”
“No, you’re good. I had fun.”
So did he. He wishes it’d happen again, and again. “And you’re okay too, right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. My ass is sore and I can barely sit down, but I feel good. Thanks for that.”
Thank heavens you are. He knows how rough he was and most women aren’t into that but you took it and enjoyed it. You were fun to play with, and now his cock twitches at the thought of what your ass must look like now, covered in his marks.
“What about you?”
“I’m fine, love. Bummed about having to work, but I’m good,” he responds.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m sorry I kept you up when you have to work this morning.”
“Don’t apologize for that. I enjoyed your company, and…”
He almost told you that he missed you, but caught himself at the last minute.
“And what?”
“Uhh, nothing,” he gulps. “I was reading something…Forgot what I was going to say.”
“O’kay.”
Yoongi can tell by the sound of your voice that you don’t buy it.
“Yup,” is all he can say in response.
After a minute or two of both of you just holding the phone, you finally say something to keep the conversation going. “Yoongi?”
“Hm…”
“Are you busy right now or…?”
He places his laptop beside him because he can assure that whatever he has to do isn’t as important as this.
“No, what’s up?”
“Well, it’s about last night,” you admit.
Now, he’s kind of nervous. What else happened while he was in his post orgasmic bliss.
“Yeah, what about it?”
Yoongi stays on the line waiting patiently for your answer, and it’s one he doesn’t expect.
“Well, you still owe me, you know?”
Interesting.
“And what do you mean by that?” he questions.
“Well…”
Yoongi already knows where this is going and luckily he knows exactly how to handle this situation. “Not satisfied, are you, baby?”
“No, I am. But…”
He chuckles. “You want some more?”
“If it isn't too much trouble. And if you have time, of course.”
You’re as sly as a fox and you know how to get what you want. It’s hot, but he’s going to have to humble you before he does anything else.
“No trouble at all, baby. Do me a favor, and spread your legs for me.”
“Okay.”
He hears some more movement and then you return, prepared to do anything he tells you in the hopes of pleasuring yourself. You tell him once you’re ready and he provides you with more instructions, in which you follow without question.
“Now, facetime me and place the phone between your thighs so I can see your pretty pussy.”
Within a second, his phone notifies him of an incoming facetime call. He answers it and finds you sitting in your hotel room. You’re wearing a large shirt but he can still see the fresh blooms from where he took your skin between his teeth the night before creeping up your neck. He can’t stop the smirk from spreading across his face.
He curses when he sees your cunt, all glistening and wet with your juices. His mouth waters but he pushes his filthy thoughts in the back of his mind.
“This is what you’re going to do,” he starts, watching in awe as strings of arousal snap while you’re scissoring yourself in his presence, “...you’re going to imagine me fucking your brains out and you’re gonna use that image to get yourself off…without me.”
“Yoongi—”
He tsks. “I’m not your man, and making you come is not my job, baby.”
“But…”
If he gave a fuck, he’d break hearing how desperate and needy your voice sounds, but you need to understand that he isn’t going to come every time you call for him. He’s a busy man and he doesn’t need distractions.
“But nothing…Now, bye. Have fun.”
He hangs up just as you start to curse at him and yell into the phone. But he knows this isn’t over; you’re probably getting a ride over to his place right now, and that’s exactly what he wanted. 
You were able to just walk out of here this morning without even waking him. That doesn’t sit right with him, and there’s only one solution for it really—
He’s just going to have to fuck you harder during round two…
And maybe, just maybe…get to know you a little bit after.
We’ll see.
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chiptrillino · 2 months
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hi chip!!! i’m wondering how/where you find pose references, especially for your more 👀🔥 risque or nsfw art lol. your anatomy&figure drawing skills have me in awe <333
Drawings for me start with very crude 10-20 second, a tiny bit more detailed stick figure drawings. Sometimes I am set with just 2 or 3; other times I make a bunch till I find the pose I like. You know, thumb nailing! Readability and shapes are what matter most.  After picking one, I start redrawing it, keeping proportion and anatomy in mind. 
If I don't know how something looks, I just look it up, and compose a drawing in a sort of Frankenstein collage style. I just google "torso leaning over" or check out other websites.
Google Images, Shutterstock, Pinterest and SketchFab are useful websites for that.
I don't do it often, but when I drew the sleepy WT family image, I used a program named Design Doll to figure out the tangle of limbs. (I had covid give me a break!) CSP offers poseable 3D dolls as well, and there are a bunch of free-to-use apps that could be of help just to figure out the anatomy or general placement of the figures. I do think they end up rather stiff, and there is a lot of correcting needed anyway.
Worse comes to worst; you take photos of yourself or with friends. Bless the timer for taking pictures!
I got asked a few times for an explanation or tutorial 'how I draw anatomy or poses'. I am working on that. Sorry that it takes a bit! Also, for those who don't know, post 18+ drawings on Ao3. I am just chiptrillino there. Hi!
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