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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

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is she gonna pop | m.izuku

➳ tags ;; 18+, brat-tamer!deku agenda, unprotected sex, this is heavily focused on shibari and the fact deku is very strong, strength kink, punishment, deku calls u a fleshlight uh... fem!reader

➳ wc ;; 1.2k

➳ a/n ;; not the exact fic i wanted to post for our boyfriend / for @rat-zuki but that shit is taking much much longer than i anticipated and i wanted to post something within a reasonable time frame. consider this a bonus fic ig?

happy late bday dekuuu

➳ plot ;; izuku midoriya likes to let you have your way.

shibari ref but ur hands r behind ur back.

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He lets you.

Sometimes, as it would be, you forget about how he lets you act. It’s something you seem to forget - get accustomed to your sweet, loving Deku. The one who puts up with your attitude and coaxes you out of your bad moods with sweet words. After all, what’s a few out of place comments from his pretty girl. What’s some attitude, some annoyance if it means he gets to be sweet on you.

Deku likes the attitude, that’s another part of it. When you make fun of him and you get that lovely over-confident attitude about what you’ve said. When you poke and pinch and prod at him. He likes the way you prance around with a dopey little grin on your face, so pleased by how he adjusts to you. He does it on purpose because he finds your bratting cute.

He finds you cute and endearing so he lets you. Gives you silent permission to act the way you do and sighs when you misbehave. Lets himself be weak for you, gives you the power you seem to desperately crave so he can dote on you to his hearts content.

He lets you. Deku the hero is too smart and too no bullshit to put up with something he doesn’t like but he likes the way you act with him. He likes your unpleasantries and the way you can’t handle affection - like a misbehaved cat. He’ll love you to the ends of the earth, uncaring.

You’re not too difficult for someone as skillful as him. Someone so patient and kind and loving. Adoring, even.

But..

There are always limits - and he seldom imposes them but they exist. He’s a hero and you’re.. you. They need to exist. When he needs you to behave, he’ll tell you. Before your events, he’ll zip up your dress and help you get everything on - a whisper in your ear. It’s simple and plain.

He’ll say it once and he’ll remind you once, those are the rules. With a hand on the lower part of your spine, he does it without an ounce of light-heartedness. A simple command he expects you to follow.

“Behave,”

It’s easy. Tonight, unlike most nights, you’re expected to be on your best behavior. No teasing, no bratting - just good behavior. It’s one night. He’ll even reward you. It’s so easy. He knows you can do it. You can behave, right?

Of course you can, just one night. You can be good.

Right?

It’s the disappointment that always sends your stomach churning.

You’ve only ever seen him angry a handful at times and none of those times have ever been at you. But you can see he’s angry - jaw tense. It feathers as the rope dips underneath your thighs. The scratchy material makes you squirm. It covers every expanse of skin you’ve got on. You’re bare other than thin, cotton panties that to your dismay, do a good job of displaying how you feel.

You’re turned on but anxious, heart-beating rapidly in your throat as he patiently ties you. With your legs folded up and your arms behind your back - you’re left completely immobile and at his disposal. This alone sends you reeling, the urge to run your mouth and relieve some of your anxiety every present.

His green eyes, normally so affection, feel cold as they look over the knots. A little sob hiccups in your chest. A hand splays on your sternum as he holds you down.

“Don’t move,” ― he commands, voice harsh and icy ― “I don’t have the patience. Move anymore and I’ll strap you down to the bed,”

You go stiff as a board, a hollowness in your body at the way he treats you. It occurs to you briefly that you’re so stubborn. Frustrated, you open your mouth again. The words of a clumsy apology rush out of your mouth. Tears of upset making your vision blurry.

“‘m sorry, sorry! Don’t punish me please.. dont want you to -”

He grabs your face with his hands and sighs, leaning down to kiss you. It’s a sweet relief, kissing him back with such urgency. He gives it to you, that sweetness, only momentarily before pulling away. That warmth is gone, replaced by only what you could describe as sharpness.

“What was my one rule for tonight, baby? Can you repeat it for me?”

You tug your lower lip between your teeth.

“B-behave,”

“And what did you do?” he asks. His grip on your jaw tightens as you pout.

“Misbehave,”

He nods, letting go of you. Wordlessly, he finished tying the rest of the rope around your body. He places a large hand completely over your clothed sex, thumb brushing against the wet-spot.

“You think, after acting like that during our dinner - my birthday dinner, and making a scene in front of everyone, that you shouldn’t be punished,”

You shiver at the sound of his voice. Baritone and exasperated - mean. Nothing like you’re used to.

“But I didn’t mean -”

His hand comes down harsh on your cunt. A loud noise of surprise echoes in the room as he stares at you with a hardened glare. Your clit throbs underneath your panties as you gasp, fat tears pooling at your lashes. He sighs as he tugs your panties to up.

“I didn’t ask for your input,” ― he makes a show of making your panties scrunch up between your folds, before snapping the wet fabric back onto your cunt ― “Fleshlights don’t have mouths to speak, so don’t speak unless spoken too,”

His cock is big, thick and heavy as it rests against your pussy. He lets the head brush against your swollen bundle of nerves but that’s as much pleasure as he lets you have. Without any prep, he spits onto it unceremoniously. He has enough patience to go slow but the stretch of it burns, aches but feels good too. It curves up - drags against your aching walls. He fucks you with a bated breath.

Without letting you get adjust to his size, he’s picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You let out a gasp with the confidence in which he holds you up. He holds you right where he wants before slamming his hips into you, cock brushing against your cervix. You feel your body go limp from pleasure, blood rushing to your head at the way he treats you.

With his fingers dimpling into your skin, he fucks you without an ounce of concern. The room fills with the noise of his muscled hips, slamming against you. He meant what he said earlier about using you like a flesh-light. The pleasure is erratic, consistent but mean thrusts. It hits you with a bruising force as the rope struggles against your soft skin. The force is enough to make you uneasy - but he holds you like it’s nothing. Fucks you like it’s nothing.

It feels like hours pass, and Deku never loses his stamina. He goes again and again and again - and you feel yourself getting close after endless pounding. Overwhelmed by the strength of your impending orgasm - you choke on your words.

“C-c..umming, f-fuck,”

You wail, loudly, as the pressure slowly falls back to nothing but aching. He shifts the weight of your body so he can spank you. He holds you up as you sob, immobile. Devastated.

“Fleshlights, don’t cum either do they?”

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#deku x reader #bnha x reader #i like how this turned out #izuku x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #deku x you #deku x y/n #formal #prettyboy.thirsts

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sukirichi · 3 years

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acquainted

You had no intentions of becoming acquainted with the clan your family had cut ties with, but when Naoya Zenin himself is willing to teach you a lesson and you’re determined to show him what you’re capable of, it becomes a silly game of power and dominance.

REQUEST. naoya putting reader back to her place

WARNINGS: Naoya Zenin, rough sex, orgasm denial, face fucking, slight voyeurism, degradation, slight bondage, cowgirl riding, manhandling, spanking, hate sex

WC. 5.4k+

NOTES. Because Naoya is my favorite, his fic is the only one I’ve ever edited, LOL. Even though this is requested, this is written out of self-indulgence, purely because I love Naoya and even though he’s nasty, he’s my comfort character. And freaking FINALLY I have written more for this man. I worship this King 👑

There were so many ways this day had gone wrong. First, your shower broke. Second, the maintenance men couldn’t come until late in the afternoon, so you had to drive all the way to school looking like a half-mess. You weren’t a slob, of course, but you were beyond irritable at the thought your hair felt greasier than most.

So when an unfamiliar mop of blonde hair sat at your place, the sight of pierced ears meeting your gaze as you smiled at the young man, you had to clutch your bag tighter. No need to be harsh to anyone; you reminded yourself.

“Hi,” you greeted as politely as you could.

The young man in your seat was handsome — terribly so — feline eyes emphasized with an eyeliner, and stunning green eyes that peered up at you with utmost boredom. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you’d seen him before.

“I believe you’re in my seat.”

You expected he’d kindly take another seat since the hall was empty, but he only leaned back in your seat, brow raised with a slight smirk. “So?”

Your mouth fell agape, hands falling at your sides. Who was this guy? “What do you mean, so? Get the fuck out of my seat.”

“Women,” he rolled his eyes, “Always so tempered and dirty mouthed,” the words felt like stinging slap in your face, and he easily read through you when he snickered to himself, waving a hand in the air as if he was swatting a fly away. “I’m already sitting here, so go find someplace else. I came here first.”

“You little — who do you think you are?”

“Who do you think you are for speaking to me? Did I give you permission?”

His condescending voice made you lunge at him if not for your friend’s hand wrapping at your arm, shooting worried glances over the guy. His smirk deepened when your friend pulled away, the words mutter under her breath. “Come on, let’s go,” she tugged you away despite your protests, pushing your shoulders down to make you sit. Once out of earshot, she rolled her eyes. “I seriously hate that guy. Don’t you ever involve yourself with him.”

“Who’s that prick anyway? He acts so high and mighty like he’s some rich daddy’s son. Look, he’s totally claiming my seat as his!”

“That’s Naoya Zenin, and yeah, he is some rich daddy’s son,” she confirmed, shivering at the mere mention of his name. “He’s an absolutely big misogynist. Don’t be fooled by his pretty face — he’s the worst fuckboy to ever exist. That dick of his isn’t worth getting fucked over. He’s already made half the women in school cry and run after him like a horde of lovesick zombies,” your friend gagged with a shake of her head, “It’s terrifying, actually.”

“Fucking asshole,” you hissed under your breath, sending side glances at the corner of your eye.

That stupid guy was still in your seat, a bored expression on his handsome face, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks at every blink. He just had to be a sexist pig with that gorgeous face — no good men existed anymore. “Whatever. He’ll get a taste of his own medicine soon.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I’m doing this for all of us,” you announced with your spine straightened. “I’m not letting a man walk like that acting like he’s got the whole world at his feet. I’ll teach him a lesson or two.”

“You do know he can sue you if you punch him right?”

“Who said I was going to punch him?” a smirk painted your lips at the same time he felt your eyes burning holes at the side of his face, your expression even more triumphant when he tilted his head to the side, eyebrow cocked at your gaze. He must’ve assumed you’d fallen for his looks judging by the satisfied smile on his face, making you laugh because it would be fun to teach him a lesson. “No, I have a much more interesting plan in mind.”

It turned out that Naoya wasn’t that much of a stranger.

You had his reputation to thank for — people spoke his name left and right that it was nearly impossible not to know of him. It had you wondering how you managed to live through university so long without knowing him when the name drowned you; he was a Zenin.

No wonder that name was so familiar.

The Zenin’s were a close business partner of your family, but they cut off ties with their company years ago due to them having an intolerable attitude. Clearly, it ran in the blood, and their heir manifested it so well.

Thoughts of Naoya and his stupid face were soon drowned out by expensive champagne, the golden liquid sparkling in your hands. You had to attend this dinner gala where businessmen and powerful families alike conjoined for a formal opportunity of forming connections and solidifying deals, pressuring you to be at your best behaviour lest you wanted your black card to be cut off.

You made your way through the crowd to get another one of those hors d oeuvres, opting to just sit in the corner while you watched your family plaster on big, fake smiles with even louder, faker laughter.

It was quite sad, really, that people had to do stuff like this, but who were you to complain when it was what fed you on a silver plate all the time?

For now, you just wanted to enjoy the new dress your mother had gotten you, the silk black material hugged around your curves delectably. Pearl drop earrings hung to frame the sides of your face, legs lengthened and accentuated with stiletto heels.

You felt sexy — especially when you got lingering gazes from men who were slightly older and definitely richer, though you made no move.

The last thing you wanted was to become someone’s trophy wife when you could become so much more. Plus, only your parents had the task of befriending people and building trust with others. You were only here to help represent the name somewhat with your pretty face, not really having much of an intention to be acquainted with anyone.

You swiped another glass of fizzy alcohol from the waiter that passed by, glossy red lips pinched around the glass when a sultry voice mused at your ear, “Still can’t find a seat?”

Swirling around so fast that the contents nearly poured out the glass, you weren’t surprised to see Naoya fucking Zenin stood before you, his tall stature draped in only the finest and hand-stitched three piece suit.

He looked absolutely delectable this way, earrings glimmering under the golden chandeliers and eyes lined with kohl, the aura of elegance that perfectly concealed his less than pleasing personality excessively charming.

You were beyond appalled.

“Still can’t find a brain?” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, eyes still narrowed at Naoya’s displeased ones as you dunk your drink in one go. “What are you doing here, pig?”

“I’ll let that comment slide once — only because you look hot tonight,” his predatory gaze ran over your form, the careful pattern of him pausing at the swell of your breasts sliding to the curve of your hips heating up each inch of your skin. “And it’s Naoya for you. Naoya Zenin, the rightful heir of the Zenin Corp—”

“What’s that scent you’re wearing? Baby powder? Fitting for your cute face, actually.”

Naoya’s jaw clenched, clearly unaccustomed to people cutting off his holiness, and you had to bite down on your lip to prevent the chuckles from slipping through. “It’s Tom Ford.”

“Hmm, why am I not surprised? My horrible ex also wore the same scent. Maybe it’s a trademark for all limp losers, huh?” Naoya opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, stepping forward to grab at the space between his tie to pull him down. His face was mere centimetres away from you, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips, the intense anger flaring through those eyes hot enough to burn you. “You act so smug and defensive, Naoya. Trying to have a big man personality to conceal a small dick?”

“I have nothing to prove to you.”

“You don’t need to prove me anything,” you glanced down at his pants with a smirk, ignoring the heat pulsing in your veins because the sight contradicted your words. There was a noticeable bulge inside those shiny black slacks, though the last thing you wanted him to see was the way your mouth watered in anticipation. “I already know what I need to know.”

“Yeah? You and your shitty girlfriends can’t stop talking about my dick?”

You shrugged sarcastically, “You know women. We’re tireless complainers.”

Naoya’s jaw ticked upon you using his words against him, his hands coming up to caress at your neck, his nails scratching behind the thick silver chain you wore.

From afar and in the eyes of others, people would’ve thought you and Naoya were simply getting a little too heated, his lips dipped to graze your ear while his slender fingers pressed a little tighter into your air pipe. Your positions could easily be mistaken for Naoya seducing you, and you supposed he was, since your body responded differently from your verbal protests.

“You should watch what you’re saying,” he warned, voice low with warning. “I could easily dump your body into a river and no one would even notice. In fact, maybe the world might even thank me for doing them a service and ridding them of a spiteful woman like you.”

“Oh, pretty boy,” you chuckled back and stood to your tippy toes. One of your hands wrapped around his neck to forcefully tilt his neck to yours, nose pressed above his collar to inhale the intoxicating masculine scent he wore. “You’re all bark and no bite. Why don’t you show me what you’re capable of? If you’re as awful as they make you out to be, maybe I’ll shiver enough to drop my panties for you.”

You didn’t miss the way Naoya’s hands gripped at your waist to pull you close, enticing you to continue with your insults because maybe Naoya liked this a lot more than he let on. Could it be his superiority complex didn’t always like submissive women, after all?

Well, it would make sense; everyone always liked a little challenge, didn’t they?

If that was what he wanted, then you’d be generous enough to grant it to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to get a chance to put me in my place, to teach me a lesson for defiling the oh-so-mighty Naoya Zenin?” you purposefully toned your voice down to a more breathy tone, your chest swelling with pride when Naoya sucked in a sharp inhale beside your ear.

God, he sounded beautiful — and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. Now, you were eager to hear what else those disgusting lips could be capable of other than degrading you.

Pulling away from him just to bat your lashes at him, heat pooled straight into your core when Naoya’s gaze had completely darkened, dark orbs pooled with lust and anger. Only he could make such an expression look so good.

“You don’t scare me, Zenin. You’re nothing but a small boy wearing big man pants.”

For a moment, your smile widened, believing that you’d won this time around. Naoya was still breathing hard at each brush of your stomach to his now hardening erection, but then he smirked and gently pushed you away from him. “I’m not fucking you here,” he stated calmly, not even bothering to keep his voice low. “You’re a lot dumber than I thought you’d be if you really think I’m whipping my cock out during this dreadful dinner.”

“This dreadful dinner you speak of is an opportunity for people like us to establish connections. I would’ve assumed you wanted nothing more to impress others but it seems I was wrong. If you hate this event so much, why bother coming here in the first place?”

“Just had a feeling I was going to meet a little minx,” he watched you seductively, his smirk adorned with his tongue peeking out to lick his lips — in turn wetting you in places he promised to make his by the end of the night. Curse him, you chanted in your head, curse him for being so attractive. It would’ve been easier if he was ugly. “And as always, I’m right.”

You tilted a brow, slightly impressed. “So you’ve done your background check on me. That doesn’t explain why you’re still here though. Surely a woman couldn’t be enough for a reason to make a man like you go all this way?”

“You’re right, a woman would never be a good enough reason, but I wanted to put you in your place,” his eyes flickered back up to you, now twinkling with danger and something else entirely. “Bad little girls need to be a taught to a lesson.”

“So what’re you waiting for? Go ahead and show me your ways, Zenin.”

“I will,” he nodded to himself, “I’m about to,” Naoya was nothing but confident as he strode your way until his arms was locked with yours, his breath tickling your collarbones that had unknowingly exposed itself at each heated touch. “You’re not that bad for a slut. You look like one, smell like one — I bet you also feel like one.”

A dry laugh left your lips as you fisted his shirt, mirroring his smirk to show that if a match was what he looked for, then a match he’d find indeed. Only this time, you would be worse.

“Why don’t you go ahead and find out?”

Naoya, despite being an absolutely poor excuse of a human being, was somewhat redeemable for being a man of his words. Find out he did, and he wasted no time into shoving you inside his McLaren, barely able to keep his hands off you the whole way up to his penthouse.

It was a blurry mess from there.

Moans spilled from your lips while he ripped your clothes off, not bothering to apologize that he’d just ruined one of your most prized possessions, his lust-clouded haze mumbling that he’d just buy you another one.

It was the last thing you expected to hear from him, but you couldn’t protest, not when he’d angrily snapped the buttons of his shirt away, a low growl mixing with your breathy whines as he loosened his tie.

Your eyes widened at the sight, legs rubbing together as you imagined what else he could do with that pretty tie of his.

Would he tie you to his bed, fuck you stupid and call you useless? Or perhaps, you could do it?

Naoya cut off your train of thought by pushing you back to his mattress, his hands tugging at his belt before he pulled his boxers down, his thick length slapping at his abdomen. Your mouth immediately watered at the sight. You were beyond wet from nothing but your sloppy make-out sessions, but would he fit?

Just the thought of him giving you that burning stretch made your legs spread beside his sides, the sardonic laughter ripping from Naoya’s lips absolutely disgusting.

“Fucking pathetic. You’re just like everyone else; submitting to me at the sight of my cock, but that’s not true, is it? Moment you saw me, I knew you were clenching around nothing,” he gripped at your jaw to force you to look at him. You glared up at him from his bruising hold, your cheeks squished under his rough hands. “But that’s okay; wanting me is not something you should be ashamed about. Although you should be thanking me I’m even letting you near me like this.”

“I’m so honoured. Come on, Naoya, let me feel you — let me make you feel good.”

Naoya, too lost in his ego, missed the sarcasm dripping in your voice. “So eager to be my cock sleeve, huh?” he grinned, tugging at your hair to push you deeper into his mattress. “Get on your knees. Now suck.”

He was too harsh in his pace, determined to exert his dominance over you. You could feel every ridge of his vein as he continued fucking into your mouth, his abs rippling above you. It felt like witnessing a Greek god come apart, and you took pleasure in being his ruin, prompting you to hollow your cheeks and bob your mouth up and down on his cock harder.

Naoya’s chuckles were broken and often mixed with curses of fuck, you feel so fucking good, his nails now scratching at your scalp.

Soon, Naoya stilled inside you, his hold around your head deadly to keep you in place. Tears flowed down your face as he kept thrusting inside, making sure to hit the back of your throat before his muscles tightened. Spurts of warm cum followed after that, but instead of swallowing it like you expected he’d command you to do, Naoya whipped out his cock and came all over your face, his seed shooting all over your cheeks and lips.

You took it all obediently, just enough to give him the false pretense of submissiveness that he was so willing to force from you.

While he was occupied pumping his still rock hard cock, eyes closed and massaging your scalp almost soothingly, Naoya failed to notice your hurried movements of standing from the bed, fingers looped around his tie.

A small wail resonated from him when you shoved him down onto the bed, knees locked at either sides of his waist before you tugged at the cloth wrapped around his neck. Naoya kicked his legs behind you as you tied his wrists to the bed hard enough that Naoya winced, the tie only forming tighter at each lame grapple of his.

You looked back at how he got more beautiful laid out in front of you like that, chest heaving up and down while he struggled against the restraints, face flushed with anger — no, this wasn’t anger anymore — he was furious.

“What are you doing?! Get this off me — how dare you!”

“How dare you,” you spat back, discarding your lace bra off to wipe his cum away from your face, gagging when the bitter cum left a tang on your lips. “I just got my skin appointment last week and you came on my face like that?”

Naoya kept fighting back before he realised it was a futile attempt, leaning back down onto the pillows, though that didn’t soften his heated eyes on yours. You cooed at how adorable he submitted to you, running a finger down the sides of his jaw. “Aw, don’t look so angry, baby. I’m just starting my fun,” you purred, “You should’ve known better than to mess with me, Naoya. I’m not as nice as the others. And I’ll show you just how awful I can be.”

Naoya’s breath hitched when you shimmied out of your underwear, a dark glint in your eyes as you stretched the elastic into a fake arrow until it snapped into his face.

“You fucking bitch,” he growled, turning his face away from your panties soaked with arousal. “Once I get out of here, I will ruin you.”

“Huh, yeah, sure,” you mumbled incoherently, too lost in the pleasure as you sunk down on his cock. You were right, he was fucking thick, stretching you out better than any of your toys could. Plus, he was warm and leaking with pre-cum that he slid in easily, erotic groans leaving both your mouths once he was finally seated inside you.

Naoya was growling at you to let go of him when you laughed, lifting your hips up slowly before sliding back down on him just as slow, almost as if you made love to his cock the same passionate way you did with a lover. “You do have a wonderful cock, though. I’ve never felt this good in my life,” you leaned down to lick a stripe down to his neck, allowing him to hear the needy pants you graced with him. “You feel so good, Naoya, oh. If you weren’t such an asshole, I might even fall in love with you.”

“Go faster. This is unfair!”

Naoya tried thrusting deep into you, evidently unsatisfied at this torturous pace you set, but you only gripped at his thigh in warning, your eyes no longer sweet as you glared at him.

“Nothing’s ever fair in this world, sweetheart,” you reminded him, shivering every now and then as you bounced on his cock, his length slipping past through your walls magically. “Like how such a gorgeous face and amazing dick is paired with the most disgusting personality ever. No, it’s not fair, indeed...”

You closed your eyes with your head thrown back, placing your hips flat on his pelvic bone instead, fingers rubbing at your clit while Naoya throbbed inside you, desperate for release.

The little whines you gave were nothing but mocking. You knew that Naoya suffered through this position, but did you care? Absolutely not. With Naoya’s cock stretching you full and his tip kissing your most sensitive spots, in addition to your fingers rubbing and tweaking at your clit, this was the most pleasure you’d ever gotten from sex.

You were stimulated everywhere, your other hand reached up to tug at your hardened nipples.

Your walls clenched around him, signalling him that you were close and you let out a broken moan, falling forward to gyrate your hips around his cock to push you over the edge. It wasn’t enough to get him off since you were mostly still fondling with your clit, the sounds of your moans like torture to his ears.

“No, don’t you dare cum, I swear if you—” Your orgasm washed over you comfortingly like a warm blanket. Instead of seeing white, it was like your vision cleared, the sight of the sweat that made Naoya’s hair stick to his forehead in clumps crystal clear. You prolonged your orgasm by thrusting your hips in a sickening rhythm of thrust, pause, thrust, stop — and by then Naoya was losing his mind.

Naoya lost control as he snapped his hips upwards inside you hard enough that you winced in pain, pushing off his dick until he’s left humping the empty air, his body drenched with perspiration. “No, no, no, fuck you! Get back here you useless slut!”

You lay beside him, giggling in post-orgasm bliss. Just to tease him, you rolled to his side to press a kiss to his cheek, laughing harder when your lips came in contact with his flushed skin.

“You’re so adorable like this,” you cupped his face tenderly, perfectly aware that Naoya had begun to growl, his wrists almost bruised from how hard he brawled against his tie. “If I didn’t hate you so much, I would’ve let you cum inside me,” you offered with a pat to his chest, moving off the bed with wobbly legs.

“Well, whatever, that was fun. I would say we both had the most sensual sex of our lives, but that would be a joke for you, don’t you think?” you snorted as you inserted your arms to his discarded suit jacket.

Naoya stayed still on the bed, his cock still painfully hard and slick with your cum. “Don’t look so angry, Naoya. You had it coming for you. Don’t worry, though, as a thanks for letting me cum that hard — though I mostly did all the work — I’ll keep this between us so you at least get to keep whatever’s left of your dignity,” you blew a kiss his way, “Bye, sweetie. At least now I know people weren’t exaggerating when they called you a good fuck.”

Not bothering to slip your heels back on, you looped your shoes into the curls of your fingers, about to button Naoya’s jacket as you made your way to his door.

You never got halfway across the room when strong arms suddenly lifted you off the ground, your vision transitioning from his door to the pads of his feet, your body slung across his shoulder. Naoya gripped at your ass in warning when you kicked your legs, leaving him with no choice but to hug your thighs with one arm.

The next thing you knew, he slammed the balcony doors open with one hand and slammed you on the pool table. His rough hands yanked his jacket away from your body, the chilly night of the air bringing a shiver down your spine as it hit your drenched core.

Naoya had pinned your arms flat on your back in a painful angle, making you cry out just as he kneed your legs open, his free hand that wasn’t pinning you down aligning his cock against your hole. You were a moaning mess underneath him, the pain only an intoxicating addition to the pleasure he was pounding into you. Naoya then leaned to whisper your ear, the sudden movement making his cock slide deeper into you, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Oh, Naoya, fuck—”

“I am not just a good fuck,” he corrected you, “I am Naoya Zenin — and you will do well being silent and submissive while I fuck you, do you understand?” You were too lost in the feeling of him rutting deep into you that he had you seeing white this time around. When you didn’t answer, Naoya slapped your ass, your yelps echoing from the dead night. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” you bit back, “I refuse to—” you were silenced when Naoya hit your sweet spot, laughing at your state that you were too fucked out to give him a proper answer.

Naoya’s pace was merciless as he fucked deeper into you, the hand on your ass moving up to grab at your waist to keep slamming you back to his cock. He watched as your lips sucked him in so tight that he didn’t know whether you were pushing him out or refusing to let go. Turning your head to the side to gasp for air, you opened your eyes, only to be met by the sight of men crowding on the building across yours to witness your undoing by Naoya’s hands.

“I’ve barely started and you’re already so wet for me,” he mocked in your ear. As if on cue, squelching sounds accompanied your desperate moans, hands grabbing at nothing in particular. “Shall I try upping my speed?”

“N-Naoya- there are people looking.”

“Let them see,” he seethed, using one arm to lift your other leg up to the table to gain him more access into your warm, wet cavern. The sudden stretch made your muscles ache until you lay there limp; jaw clenched at the pleasure Naoya drowned you with. “Let them know how much I’m making this pussy mine. Gosh, can you hear yourself? You sound like a dirty fucking slut,” another slap landed on your ass, hard enough to leave a mark there for tomorrow. “You claim to hate me, so then why are you dripping all over me, huh? Pathetic whore. You women are nothing but cum dumps to me.”

Naoya spread your butt cheeks open, laughing at the silly way you clenched around him every time he pulled out, your puffy lips sucking him back again until Naoya buried himself to the hilt. His dick did wonders in letting out the most erotic whines and whimpers you never thought you’d be capable of, leaving you a drooling and panting mess under him.

“You little fucker, don’t even think about cumming inside me, I will literally castrate you and feed your balls to yourself.”

“Such a dirty mouth. Though that’s expected of a nasty woman like you,” he sassed, his thrusts faltering while his hand clenched your flesh tighter. That was enough to send you over the edge when Naoya slammed his hips harder and more desperately this time around, his cock twitching against your walls. “You wish I would cum inside you. But I have a better plan in mind.”

All it took was one rough hand for him to pull you before him, pushing you down into your knees again as he came inside your mouth. You could feel your cum and his dripping onto his dark marble tiles, the white pool of liquid shining.

Naoya thrusted lazily into your mouth, a sickening grin on his face while he kept you down there. His glare deepened when you tried to pull away from him. “Swallow, you slut. Or I’m fucking your face until I break your jaw.”

Furiously, you swallowed around his cock, Naoya groaning at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him. The moment you gagged from when his tip poked the back of your throat, Naoya pushed you off him until you were left choking on the ground. You gasped for air, hands clasped around your neck, sure that you were going to have a sore jaw and a fucked throat tomorrow.

You kept glaring at Naoya, but this didn’t deter him from gripping your chin down, humming to himself upon seeing that his cum was now gone in your mouth. “Hmm, so you did swallow it like a good girl. I’m glad I’ve disciplined you well.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’m King there already, baby,” Before you could retort, his arms encircled your waist until you were heaved in his arms again. You pounded against his back because you were too done, you couldn’t do another round. Naoya sighed as he threw you in the bed as if you were a ragdoll, disappearing in the bathroom for a while before coming back with a wet towel, which he rudely flicked your way. “Clean yourself up and then leave. Take the back elevators. I don’t want the staff to see a whore leaving my place.”

“You’re the one who brought me here.”

“Only because I had a duty to put you in your place,” He stared at you with his smirk now permanent in his face, admiring the bruises he left on your body.

“We’re not over yet, Zenin. I’m going to break you one way or another.”

You rolled your eyes at him, walking to his closet to wear one of his shirts. Naoya was silent the whole time as he watched you button his shirt with trembling hands, his presence hot on your heels as he followed you out the large room.

As you were about to leave, you picked up the towel you used to clean your cum with and threw it right at his face.

Naoya dodged it easily, eyeing the towel with a scoff. “Still resilient, I see,” settling down on one of his lounge chairs like it was a throne, Naoya rested his cheek on his fist as he stared you down. “But fine — I accept your challenge. A true man never backs down from a challenge, after all.”

“Oh, honey, I’m more than just a challenge,” you sneered.

Naoya’s gaze left your eyes to stare at your perky nipples that poked through his shirt, feeling his cock swell all over again. But he was a man of control and dignity — he wouldn’t do anything more with you, not when it was clear you’ve had enough for tonight.

It didn’t bother him though, he knew he’d have more opportunities to put you in your place.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be the one to decide your worth,” he declared oh so smugly, the mere sound of his voice pushing you to slam a fist to ruin that pretty face of his, though you held your ground, far too tired to move a muscle. Naoya saw this too, and he smiled to himself, head tilted to the side as he studied the mess he’d made of you. “Tomorrow, same time same place?”

There was no telling what pushed you to agree, but the words left your lips far too confidently for you to even wonder why.

“Be ready for me, Zenin.”

“I always am.”

All the way back to the back elevators that Naoya had directed you at, you pondered on how you’d be able to tell your parents you suddenly needed a ride home when they had no idea you left the dinner gala in the first place. But most of all, how were you supposed to tell them you’d acquainted yourself with the Zenin clan all over again?

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divinefireangel · 3 years

Text

Scream Princess

SF9 Jaeyoon x F! Reader Smut.

YES I USED THIS GIF ON PURPOSE 😈

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: Listen. I fucking hate frat boys okay 😂. So this was easy to write cause Jae is hot and I'll do anything for him 🥰 This is the longest fic I've written so far. And I'm proud. I hope you like it anon! I have to warn you, I didn't include the choking sadly 😔 slipped my mind. But I still hope it lives up to expectations 🥺.

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 18+ ages and female readers (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Fuck buddies/enemies to lovers. We live for that cute shit. Rough sex. Mentions of blowjobs. Fingering (f receiving). Jae calls reader 'princess', just incase I wasn't clear. And it's smut, so your typical smut warnings. Nothing overboard don't worry. But do let me know if I need to add something more. Not proof read. Excuse the errors.

Requested: Yes! By a lovely anon 🖤

frat! boy jaeyoon and you have a love hate relationship. you love him when he chokes u and calls u princess, hate him every other second. maybe he gets so jealous at a party seeing u play pong w someone else that he takes u upstairs to make u not hate him and to let everyone else youre his.

2.8k Words ;)

It was a simple arrangement. When either of you are horny, you fuck. And the rest of the time, you pretend he doesn't exist. Ugh how you hate fratboys. But Jaeyoon is hot. You gotta give him that. And he works out a lot which is very much seen on him and the way he tosses your around when you fuck.

Sex with him is just so fulfilling. He'll give you everything you want. The passion. The speed, always fast. The way his tongue always makes you so hot. Just thinking about it makes you wet. The way he stares at you with so much hateful fire that you mirror, when he's so deep in you. The bruises he leaves when he grips you so tight you can't escape from under him. The soreness you feel after every session of sexual entanglement is just delicious. You hate it.

But what you enjoy most is how he calls you 'princess' while fucking your guts out. The rest of the time, you can't tolerate his existence. It makes you wanna roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. You hate his playboy manners, the way he always acts like he's so cool cause he's a part of the most popular fraternity on campus. You hate how he's so cocky and acts like every girl walking would just drop their panties if he told them to. You hate that he thinks he's better than everyone. You hate him, so much.

And so here you are, at one of his frat parties, as much as you didn't want to be here. Even after insisting that you're busy and don't want to go to the party, your friends and roommates didn't buy your excuses, stating that you need to get a boyfriend or at least get laid. Oh if only they knew. Standing in the corner of the lawn, a red solo cup with disgusting beer in your hand, you stare cringingly at the mess of hot bodies grinding against each other, desperate for god knows what. Yep. You are definitely not attending another such, event.

" Hey you busy? " A voice asked.

Looking to your right, then left you notice a cute guy, who was clearly looking at you. Blinking you look at him with a blank expression. What's he playing at, you wonder.

" Oh right sorry. I'm Youngbin. We're playing Beer Pong and we're a player short and you are standing here by yourself so I thought you could join us. If you want to, of course. No pressure. " He said flaying his hands around innocently.

Well you do have nothing to do right now, might as well follow the cute guy. Who knows, he may ask you out.

" Yeah sure! I'd love to. I'm Y/N, by the way. "

" Ah. Nice to meet you. Are you a freshman? "

" Sophmore actually. "

" Oh nice. I'm a senior. A few freshmen students are still underage, gotta be careful you know. "

" Oh yeah I get it. But you should know that they are at times wilder than us. " Giggling at your words, he leads you towards the table, finally reaching.

" Oh great you found someone. I'm Zuho. " Another cute guy said. Wow you were really gonna miss out if you'd stayed in your room.

" Y/N. " You said as you shook his hand.

" Okay so it's 3 versus 3. You guys start. " Zuho said to the collective mass, starting the game. Winning a few, and losing a lot of ping-pong balls, you were finally happy. A little tipsy, but still sober enough to do a math problem, you continued to play the game, now having more players on each team. Surprisingly, you were good at the game and not so surprisingly, you started to get close to Youngbin. Slight lingering touches on your arm, your waist and the tingle that went down your body when he moved you hair so you could focus on bouncing the ball. Maybe the ball wouldn't be the only thing that would be bouncing soon.

" YO YOUNGBIN! " A booming voice called. Oh no. You knew this voice. You knew it really well. Begrudgingly you turned to look at none other than Lee Jaeyoon. Of course the fucker is here. He's at every party, trying to hook up with random girls who all seem to be interested in him.

Staring at you intently as he hugged Youngbin, You wished the ground will open up and swallow you whole. Why was he here. You were having so much fun. Well who says you can't have fun with him right here, staring at you like you were a piece of candy. Yeah nope. Time to go home. Vibing with the music, you slowly start to step back as everyone at the pong table started to talk to Jaeyoon. After stepping far enough, you turn on your heel, ready to strint away. Feeling someone grab your wrist, you're turned around with so much force you crash into a hard chest, hands going to his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Looking to see who stopped you, you're met with a cocky smirk, adorning the face of, well you guessed it.

" Where are going? I thought you were having fun so I came to join you. And you decide to leave without telling me? I'm hurt princess. " He says, the smirk only getting bigger as your blood boils with rage. This fucker. If given a chance to wipe out someone's existence completely, you'd choose him.

" Yeah well. Since you're here, it won't be fun anymore. "

" Oh is that how it is? "

Nodding yes, you step away from him, crossing your arms as you try to look tall next to his broad, tree like, super climbable figure. Stop it. Don't think of him like that. Not now at least.

Running his tongue on the inside of him cheek, he looks down at you. He looks hot. And angry?

" Well princess, I'm hurt. Right here. " Pointing at his chest, he moves closer to you. Breath hitching, you stare at him wide eyed, as his face comes to your eye level.

" You seemed to have forgotten out arrangement princess. "

What is he talking about. Was he drunk? Sniffing, you check if he was drunk. He wasn't. Which is shocking. Grabbing your upper arms and pulling you near with his hands, his lips move to your ear.

" I'm not happy with the way you were getting so close to Youngbin. You shouldn't do that when you have me. "

" Excuse me. What. " You say, breaking free from his grip. Looking at him, your face screams, 'Are you crazy'. Well someone should.

" What the fuck do you mean ' you're not happy'. Last I checked, I'm a free independent woman, who is single, and would very much like a cute caring boyfriend AND who doesn't just wish to be someone's fuck-buddy. So if you may, I'd like to go ask out Youngbin. " Smiling bitterly, you try to make your way around Jaeyoon, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled back into Jaeyoon's muscular chest.

Glaring at you, he starts to walk towards his room, a path you aren't new to, as his grip on your wrist tightens, pulling you with him. Entering the room, he pushes you in, then locks it. Stumbling, you grab his chair so you don't fall. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

" What in the actual HELL is wrong with you! What the fuck dude. Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Is it cause I was actually happy flirting with Youngbin? Last I checked, I don't belong to anyone. And especially not to you. So don't go around acting like you're my boyfriend because you aren't. And don't at all act like you care about me because the whole wide freakin world knows that you care about no one but yourself. So move, before I kick you so hard you'll have to go the hospital. " To say you were angry would be so wrong. You were furious. His existence infuriates you.

" I like you. "

" What? " Is he for real? Manipulation? Really?

" I'm not trying to manipulate you. I really do like you. And I wasn't happy seeing you get touchy with one of my friends. " Is he a mind reader or something? Probably. I mean he does know what you want when you just whine and writhe under him as he pleasures- Wait no! Stop.

" Why tell me now? " You ask calmly, well as calm as you could get without letting your guard down.

" Because... I don't know okay! I just, I just couldn't stand there as he got close to you. When it could've been.... Well could be me.... " He said slowly. You've never seen him so, vulnerable. He looks like a sad puppy.

" I'm sorry but, are you sure? " Chewing on your lower lip, you wait for him to reply. How can he like so suddenly. It's not natural right?

" I am. I really like you. And I want you to be my strong independent girlfriend. I want to take you out on a date. A real one. Many dates. Please just give me a chance. You won't regret it. " Taking your hand in his, he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. Dramatically, you life your eyes up, only to find him looking at you with puppy eyes. Nodding your head slowly, you swallow. Breaking a grin on his face, he places your hands on his wide shoulders as he connects your lips for the first time this evening, his hands wandering from your waist to your hips.

" Oh baby. I'll make sure you never regret this decision. " And with that he places his hands on your ass, tapping it so you jump in his arms. Obliging, you connect your lips again, wanting to feel them melt against yours as you process what's happening. Placing your on the table, he removes yours and his jackets, throwing them on the floor somewhere. Moving close to your seated figure, his hands find themselves on your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you again and again till you're both out of air in your lungs. He slowly grinds his hips to your front, your knees going around his hips as your hands tug at his shirt.

Stepping back he removes his shoes and shirt, exposing his well toned chest and abs to you. Removing your footwear and freeing your hair, you beckon him to come to you as you bite your lip seductively. Smirking, he obeys you, coming as close to you as you want. Lips meet your neck, one hand to your hair, pulling it till your head tilts back exposing the flesh on your neck to him, his other hand wandering up under your top. Hunching it in your palms, you remove your top as he wastes no time to undo your bra, freeing your breasts to the cool air of the room.

Kissing down your body, his lips latch on to your left nipple, hand toying and twisting the other. Arching your body into his face, you grab his hair, pulling it like you always do. Releasing your nipple with a pop, he begins to undo his belt with one hand. Raising his free hand to your head, he advances in your direction till your chests meet, skin to skin, heat to heat, and lips meet once more.

Without breaking the kiss, he discards his pants, leaving him in boxers. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifts you up moving the two for you to his bed. Gently he puts you on the matress, hands finding the button of your jeans, undoing it and pulling them down your legs. Staring in your eyes he bites his lip, freeing it sexily he leans his face down to your neck, kissing, biting and marking you with little lovebites.

Rotating your head to the opposite side you gasp when you feel his fingers rub your folds over your panties. Lifting your upper body off the bed slightly your hands grab hold of his wrist that's on your needy mound. Keeping them there you begin to grind yourself on his fingers, releasing breathy moans of constricting pleasure.

" Fuck princess, you look so hot grinding yourself against me. Let me take care of that for you. " He whispers on your ear, chills travelling down your body reaching just where you need him. Letting go of his wrist, you grab onto his shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him again. Moaning in his mouth when he moves your panties to a side with his fingers, touching your wet pussy. Groaning at how wet you are, he easily slips in two fingers in your hole, pumping them slowly. Breaking the kiss you curse at the feeling of his thick digits moving along your entrance.

" Oh fuck. Yes- Please don't stop " You gasp when he touches your g-spot with his fingertips at the same time his thumb finds your clit. Increasing the pace of his fingers, he presses his nose on your cheek, breathing out ragged breaths as he grinds his dick to the matress at your moans. Roughly he rubs your clit pulling out as you cry in protest, feeling empty. Opening your eyes at the loss of warmth above you, you feel his hands pulling your panties down your legs, noticing his hard length, tip so red he would probably cum if your wrapped your mouth around him. Ripping open the condom, he rolls it on his cock, forcefully making your lay on your back as he enters you whole. Crying out at feeling so full with his dick deep in your pussy, you arch your back adjusting to his thick length. Slipping an arm below you when you do so, he licks your lower lip, biting it and pulling at it.

Drawing his hips back just a little, he slowly starts to ease himself in you, body rocking against yours, hair falling down on your forehead, hands grabbing your waist to keep you in place. Pressing your fingers into his back you chant his name, encouraging him to go further and faster. Being the mind reader he is, he pulls out almost whole, before ramming his cock in as fast as he can. Screaming out in pleasant surprise you hug him tighter, allowing him to go faster and faster till you lose your voice.

" Princess. You're so tight around me. Yes baby, scream my name " He growls in your ear deeply, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, feeling full till your stomach every time his dick is balls deep. And feeling just as empty when he drags out. Your hole stretched out to accommodate his thick girth, making you think it might tear open. Jaeyoon is driving his cock in and out of you so rapidly you can feel you juices leaking out of your pussy, drawing you closer to your orgasm.

" Jae. I'm gonna- I'm close " You warn him, wanting to cum undone together.

" Yeah baby me too, fucking scream my name for me princess. Please I need you to. Scream princess! " Rubbing your clit, he freezes at sensation of your walls closing around his dick just as tightly as your legs close around his hips. Screaming his name out so loudly, your body jerks and squirms shamelessly as you cum on his cock, squeezing his till he's dumbfolded above you and helplessly cums in the condom.

Falling on top of you gently, he catches his breath, chest heaving heavily as you slowly unclench your legs and pussy, also catching your breath, enjoying your post orgasm euphoria. Whimpering when he pulls out, your body convulses around air, still not over your high. Blinking your eyes, you close them slowly, feeling tired out due to the mind blowing orgasm you just had.

Feeling a damp cloth on your sore folds, you open you eyes unwillingly, looking at your 'boyfriend' who's cleaning you up. And who has already worn sweats. Going back to the bathroom, he throws the towel in the laundry basket, returning to the room and handing you one of his shirts and clean boxers. Shyly you put on the clothes given to you.

" Oh don't go all shy on my now when you were just screaming my name a few minutes ago. " He says laughing. Blushing you wait till he comes to sit behind you, laptop in one hand.

" Wait what about the party? " You ask, wondering why he's switching on his laptop.

" Eh. It's just another party. And I have you here now. You're all the party I'll ever need. " Pulling you close by your waist, he makes you sit between his legs, covering your legs with his comforter. Throwing a pillow on top of the comforter, he places the laptop on it, playing a newly released movie. Nuzzling into your neck, he pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your frame as you both started your first binge session.

#sf9 #jaeyoon #sf9 smut #sf9 x reader #sf9 x reader smut #sf9 jaeyoon #sf9 jaeyoon smut #lee jaeyoon #lee jaeyoon smut #jaeyoon smut #jaeyoon x reader #jaeyoon x reader smut #sf9 imagines #sf9 fluff #sf9 scenarios #kpop smut #jaeyoon scenario

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ocean-blue-whump · 2 years

Text

Hunter’s House Rules

Continued from here.

Tagging @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump @whumpfessional @whumpawoman

CW: pet whump, BBU, lady whump, creepy/intimate whumper, dehumanization, Hunter Bianchi is his own warning

***

Sunny mouths his new name over and over, the words strange on his tongue. Not 236. Sunny. And his bonded, not 501. Star. Sunny smiles. His owner is kind. He has a name. He can fulfill his purpose.

He feels mostly happy, kneeling at the feet of his new owner. He loves his new clothes. He loves this house. He loves his master. But he’s only mostly happy. Because on the other side of their owner’s legs kneels Star, her hands restrained behind her backs, still coming off the sedatives.

“Time we went over the rules, pets.”

Sunny twists his head to look up at his owner. He’s holding a glass of whiskey, tapping his finger against the side of the glass.

“First off, the matter of what you’ll call me. I prefer Mr. Bianchi or Sir. You’ll earn how to read the room and determine which I want at what time. When I tell you to, pets, you’ll call me Daddy.”

Star, under her breath, mumbles, “I don’t wanna.”

“What you want is irrelevant.” Sir takes a sip of his whiskey. “I have a few rules for you. Breaking them won’t be fun for you. At all. Fun for me, though.”

Fear spikes through Sunny’s chest at the thought of a punishment. He nuzzles his face into Sir’s leg, hoping to win some points of affection. He likes real punishments better than the ones that cause pain and pleasure, the ones hat make him sick and guilty for liking it.

Sir chuckles. “That’s cute. First rule: no swearing, no backtalk. I don’t like brats. I didn’t pay for attitude. Second rule: pets are not allowed on furniture without permission. And when I do give you that, understand that’s in a privilege. Not a right. You don’t have rights.”

Sunny looks over at Star. Behind her back, she clenches her fists, unclenches them. The light of the corner lamp catches a scar on her face, making her look mean. Not to Sunny.

“Third rule: you kneel and crawl when I tell you. Fourth rule: pets don’t do anything without my permission. Eating, sleeping, drinking. Let alone showering. Fifth rule: pets take their punishment without complaint. No matter what it is. You’re both designed to take pain, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Sunny answers in a breathy voice. “We-we are trained for pain.”

Sir ignores him. “Sixth rule: pets will obey my every command. I want you to dance, you dance. If I want you, sweet little Sunny, to slit Star’s throat, you’re gonna kill her.”

“N-no, no, please, don’t make me do it,” Sunny wails, throwing himself at Sir’s feet, clinging onto the man’s polished shoes like they’re the only thing that exists in this cruel world. “I can’t, please, please, I’ll be good, she’ll be good, good, good for you, can do anything you want.” Sunny’s mouth goes dry. “D-Daddy, please. Please don’t make me kill her.”

Sir chuckles. “Wrong time to call me that, Sun-Bun. But I appreciate the sentiment. Let’s keep going. Seventh rule: pets will maintain their hygiene. I will tell you what to wear, but you’ll be expected to keep yourself clean and beautiful for me. Eighth rule: pets will show respect at all times.”

At that, both Sunny and Star drop their heads to the floor, bent over. Sunny is shaking, Star is breathing heavily.

Sunny whimpers and flinches when he feels a hard slap on his ass.

Sir laughs again. “Oh, that’s a neat little trick. I didn’t know about that one. Back to position two, pets.” Sir sets his whiskey down on the side table. “Ninth and final rule: pets never take off their collars. And those...things WRU put on you simply won’t do. No, not at all.” His hands creep around Sunny’s neck, finding the latch to the collar and taking it off. Sunny gasps and shivers at the lack of pressure, cool air on skin that barely sees the light of day. Just as soon, a new collar encircles his neck. It’s dark brown leather with golden studs, soft, almost.

A prong pierces his neck, one on each side, and Sunny cries out, needle-sharp pain turning quickly to pleasure, making him roll his hips slightly. The same thing is done to Star; she hisses softly when the prongs pierce her neck. There’s a tiny box on one side of the collar, barely noticeable.

“I had this collar custom ordered. You’ll get used to it. It only pierced a few layers of skin, and it’ll heal to make a perfect divot. Perfectly placed for me to discipline you if necessary.

Shock collars--again.

Sunny tries to make his perfect eyes go wide and pretty as possible. The handlers always said he was beautiful, good at begging with just his eyes.

Sir leans down and ruffles his hair. “Sweet little pet. Alright, Sunny, go first. Tell me your rules.”

Sunny sticks out his bottom lip. “O-one. No swearing or, or being a brat.” He looks up at Sir for approval, receiving only one stiff nod in return. “Two, pets are not allowed on furniture without per-permission. Three, three is, um, three is kneel and crawl when you say so.” He looks up at Sir, making direct, submissive eye contact. “Rule four, pets need permission for, for everything. And five, pets take p-punishment without complaint.”

“Repeat that last one,” Sir says. He rests his hand in the boy’s hair, his grip tight and uncomfortable. “You’re too quiet.”

For the first time since Sunny climbed out of his box, he feels a sinking sense of dread about Sir’s intentions with them.

“Five,” Sunny says, a little bit louder. “P-pets take punishments with-without complaint.”

Sir seems content with his volume, but he doesn’t let up on his grip on Sunny’s hair.

“Six…” He hates this one, makes a shiver run down his spine. “Pet’s obey Sir’s every command. Seven, pets w-will maintain their hygiene.” He’s okay with that rule, he has to be okay with all the rules. “Eight, um, eight. Pets will show…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Respect.”

Both of the pets fall to the ground, breathing heavily. Into the carpet, Sunny whimpers out, “at all times.”

“Back up,” Sir orders. “One more, Sunny.”

Sunny straightens his spine and nods. “Rule nine, pets n-never take off their collars.”

“Good boy.”

Sunny smiles and leans his head against Sir’s thigh. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you for letting me be good for you.”

“What’s it going to take to get a real reaction out of you?” Sir uses two fingers to tilt Sunny’s face towards him. “Pain? Pleasure?”

Sunny swallows his fear. “I can do whatever you want me to do.”

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll get something real from you yet.” Sir lets go of Sunny and turns his head to Star. “Your turn.”

“One,” Star says, but stops abruptly, frowning. “One is, um…”

Sir smirks. “What’s the matter, Star? Hmmm? Are you too stupid to remember something that easy?”

Sunny cringes back. That’s…that’s not going to go well.

Star snarls. “I’m not fucking stupid. Fuck you.”

“Rule one,” Sir snaps. “No swearing or backtalk. You messed up the first rule.”

“Sir, please, her memory isn’t good anymore, please be gentle on her,” Sunny pleads, looking up at Sir.

“Oh, her memory is just fine. Isn’t it, puppy?” Sir croons at Star.

“Fuck you,” she says, maybe a little less brave this time but still there, and Sunny loves and hates her for doing that.

Sir’s shoe collides with her head, and Star falls onto her back, trying to get away from him. Sir is too quick. He’s on Star in a second, holding her still by her wrist and pulling out the remote to her shock collar. “Wrong answer, slut. Let’s see if this will jog your memory.”

Both pets go paralyzed with fear.

#bbu #box boy universe #whump #whump blog #whumpblr #sunny #star #hunter bianchi #blue's words #pet whump

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local-ground-apple · 4 years

Note

May I request for headcanons with the dorm leader and a f!reader who’s scared of people and always have her guards up? How would they win her over? (I’m so sorry if this is way too much and if this is the wrong place to ask for requests)

It’s not too much and it’s a good place to ask for requests. Hope you will like it~!

I swear I don’t know why Vil and Azul are so long..

♥️ probably scared you with his tantrums and quick temper

♥️ and probably scared you even more with strict rules imposed on students,

♥️ at first Riddle had absolutely no clue how to approach you, you always seemed rather anxious and cautious around him and he didn’t like it at all. Eventually, he asks Trey for some advices on how to get closer to you,

♥️ now he’s making sure you’re not near before he ruthlessly scolds and punishes students or has an outburst of anger,

♥️ Riddle tries to control his emotions around you and talk in rather pleasant voice, sometimes may turn a blind eye if you break one, seemingly insignificant rule, even though he’s screaming internally,

♥️ asks you, how was your day and oftne starts small talks with you. Riddle even offers to help you with subjects you don’t excel at, which slowly makes you warm up to him and gradually builds your trust,

♥️ when you feel more comfortable in his company, he invites you for tea parties where just the two of you eat strawberry tarts and talk in pleasant ambiance (Riddle shamelessly denies it being a date and refers to it as friendly meeting, keep telling that to yourself)

♥️ Riddle is the listener and he tries hard not to push your barriers, he’s always there to listen to your problems and is more than willing to offer you a solution,

💛 he certainly enjoys a good chase and is up for the challenge, he’s not the type to easily give up. Leona is a predator after all and you happened to be considered a prey,

💛 since you always have your guard up around others, he finds your mysterious and unapproachable aura completely endearing, Leona wants to be the only one to whom you will open up

💛 he acts more than he talks, so at first expect that lazy lion to actually put some effort – he will intimidate people you’re scared of, will carry your bag if you happen to walk in the same direction as him without even asking for your permission or he would invite you to his table in canteen,

💛 when he realises his approach doesn’t work that well and you’re still slightly intimidated by him, Leona will change his strategy,

💛 since you don’t want to be open, then he won’t be forcing you. Leona decides to show you an example. He opens up to you, tells you his honest thoughts without beating around the bush – which actually works and makes you gradually trust him more and more,

💛 Leona is not rushing you or putting any pressure on you, after all hunts are not supposed to be easy and end so rapidly,

💙 his tentacle senses began tingling when he spotted you. His greedy and calculating self was looking for a perfect moment to get you to sign a contract. You had heard rumours about his fishy deals and after Floyd personally and brutally invaded your comfort zone, you swore to yourself your feet would never step in Mostro Lounge again. It led to you having absolutely no trust in him and basically running away at a mere sight of the twins,

💙 if you were scared of people before, now you were terrified and your guards were even higher than always. You promised yourself to be extra cautious around Azul,

💙 Azul can partially understand you, he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable either and usually has hard time opening to others and prefers to keep things to himself, yet it doesn’t mean he will go easy on you,

💙 after your brief meeting when you politely refused a contract, Azul actually gives you time, he doesn’t seem pushy or overbearing. You don’t see him or Leech twins for extended period of time. After a while you began to feel less anxious and your body isn’t in constant “fight or flight” mode, that’s when Azul steps in.

💙 gets paired with you in poison class, completely accidentally, much to your discontent. Azul leaves you surprised by how respectful he is, not putting any pressure on you and helping you with task. He gently asks about your opinion and listens to you, which leaves you stunned,

💙 you don’t warm that easily to him, having at the back of your mind all the horrible rumours about him. Azul is a great manipulator. While he was seemingly giving you time, Leech twins were busy collecting any information about you, which could be helpful in the future. Soon, Azul adapts his responses to your reactions, slowly making you lower your guard in his company,

💙 offers you a small favour, without any contract and wants nothing in return. You were suspicious, he keeps his promise, which makes you slightly warm up to him, Azul views that as investment in the future and he is more than willing to make another favour,

💙 just one day Azul will return to collect your outstanding debt,

💙 if he doesn’t manage to woo you with his manners, clever tricks, then surely, he can do it through a contract, right?

🧡he is open and friendly with everyone and his bright and energetic personality scared you a bit at first. His presence was a bit overbearing to you and you couldn’t believe you would find such a kind soul in this school,

🧡 Jamil had to explain to him, why you may not want to open up to new people and have trust issues, after that he would change his approach,

🧡 Kalim wants to gain your trust and become your friend, before he would try to woo you, he doesn’t want to blow his chances with you, so he takes things slow,

🧡 soon you learn that he’s genuinely friendly and cheerful and he’s not trying to be someone he isn’t,

🧡 Kalim talks openly with you, doesn’t hide anything about himself and is more than happy to share some histories about his past with you

🧡 often tells you that he appreciates time you spend with him and how this relationship is important to him,

🧡 gradually, your conversations began to flow more easily and naturally and you find yourself opening a little,

🧡 eventually, his bright personality wins you over

💜 Vil thinks highly of himself and is sure that making you fall for him would be easy-peasy. After all, who wouldn’t want to date him? Isn’t he such a perfect lover? He knows, it’s just a matter of time before you let your guard down and fall head over heels for him,

💜 sends Rook to discreetly gather some crucial information about you, he wants to understand why are you cautious and don’t you want to trust others. After finding a cause, Vil is more than happy to impose the best (in his opinion) solution and solve your issues. You won’t even notice his attempts,

💜 Vil is an excellent actor. After learning more about you and analysing your personality with Rook, he will adjust his words, gestures to your reactions. He always creates a perfect ambiance for your talks and seems to be empathizing with you. But you will never know which sugar-coated word was his true self.

💜 makes you believe that he leads the conversations with you, while having the intention of fully listening to you. Soon, you’re convinced that he’s a reliable person in whose company you can speak without feeling judged or embarrassed. After all, doesn’t he seek to understand you?

💜 Vil judges you internally, although in your eyes, he’s a very encouraging and supportive person. He helps you adjust in this completely new word and initially he isn’t harsh to you, as he is with Epel. He showers you in compliments, builds your self-esteem and makes you feel appreciated in his company. After all, Vil is going to fix your any imperfection after you eventually becomes his.

💜 if you reject him despite his relentless efforts, special addition to your apple or an old-fashioned love potion should make you fall for him,

🖤 oh boy, he is rather scared of people, often avoiding them at all cost and now he wants to overcome your barriers you had set around you and win you over?

🖤 it’s going to be a tough challenge, Idia himself is not sure whether he can overcome it,

🖤 feels very awkward whenever he tries to get out of his comfort zone and approach you, so he practically doesn’t leave it. You’re not sure how many times you had seen him leaving his dorm, yet alone his room,

🖤 you both share a lot in common, so he perfectly understands why you may have trust issues and don’t want to open up so easily,

🖤 Idia gives you (and mostly himself) quite a lot of time and if he finally gathers lasting remains of his practically non-existing courage, he will message you,

🖤 most of your conversations would be online. Surprisingly to you, they don’t feel awkward or forced, you both enjoy them, slowly warming up to each other,

🖤 eventually you would take your relationship from Internet to real life,

💚 he is a patient fae, so he gives you as much time as you need to warm up to him. Your mistrust and fear of people, as well as having your guards up all the time is understandable to him.

💚 Malleus is not exactly an open person with a vast circle of friends. Besides, most of Diasomnia students are also cautious and discreet, so he is rather accustomed to it and doesn’t find you weird,

💚 He doesn’t mind walking in the forest with you in complete silence and doesn’t even find it awkward,

💚 Malleus is elated when you gradually become more comfortable in his company, he always makes sure you’re feeling alright and is a great listener. You could spend hours rabbiting on how your day was awful and he would be there to hear it. You have his full and undivided attention,

💚 always tells you how much he appreciates time spent with you and how much this relationship means to him,

💚 appreciates every piece of information you share about yourself and in return does the same. Generally sooner or later, you both help subconsciously help each other open up and before you even realise, you start to develop feelings for your kind Tsunotarou,

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savagesbonergarage · 3 years

Note

A quickie with Maul WITHOUT PLOT

Hmmm....

Wise of you to add that on the end there.... But is it gonna be effective? We'll see.

I'm gonna make this 100% just self-indulgent porn since that's really all it needs to be right

I'm malfunctioning how did they get there what's the occasion and the timeline and the state of the relationship and the galaxy and ahhhhhhhh okay I need to get it together

UPDATE: LMAO IT’S SO LONG AND THERE’S KIND OF SOME PLOT, I FAILED SO EXPONENTIALLY HARD. 🤡

(A/N - General ns/fw, definitely more explicit than not, but overall still not super hard stuff?, quickie, bj, power kink I guess?, hidden feelings, I think that’s about it honestly, if I’m missing something let me know)

Throne sex? Throne sex.

Maul

"... And Prime Minister Almec's influence has recruited warriors from among the civilians who would join our cause," you reported.

You stood alone before Lord Maul, who sat in his signature pose with his mechanical leg propped up atop the throne of Mandalore, resting his head on his hand as he gazed out the large transparisteel pane with a look of complete boredom and disinterest. He didn't even bother to look your way as he responded drily. "Fascinating."

You were tempted to raise your eyebrow sightly, but even though he wasn't looking at you, the fear of confrontation kept you from doing so.

"Will there be anything else, My Lord?"

The zabrak finally managed to direct some of his attention to you, his menacing eyes looking you up and down as his countenance changed with an ominous smirk. "Yes. How long before my blissful solitude is once again interrupted?"

You immediately checked the chrono on your datapad, afraid that you may have caught your new leader in an agitated state. The last thing you wanted was to be a recipient of his anger if you displeased him somehow, so you opted to simply be efficient in the tasks you were given. "You have a meeting in about eight minutes, My Lord."

"I see..."

Something about the way he was intently gazing at you made you uneasy, as though you weren't quite finished here and were expected to know why. You straightened your posture and put your datapad away before you geared up to leave. "Do you require anything else of me, Lord Maul?"

There was a new look in his eyes, something you hadn't ever seen until now, and the sudden change in contrast from before of his full and immediate attention on you sent a strange, yet not unwelcome shiver coursing through your body. Somehow you felt the previous uneasiness slip away and in its place was...dare you acknowledge it...want? Whether it was involuntary or not, the powerful man before you had you wishing there really was more you could do for him.

His gaze was nearly leaving burning holes everywhere his golden eyes tracked on you, each place they lingered a pathway into some rather inappropriate thoughts as it was fairly obvious exactly which parts he was shamelessly staring at. What's more, you didn't mind it in the slightest. You felt a little exposed, but in such a delicious way. Could you truly be tempting him, or was he simply teasing you in some show of authority over you - or was he really just that bored?

Suddenly, your train of thought ended when Maul planted his leg back onto the ground and unflinchingly brought his gloved hands down to work at the sealing strip of his pants. You barely registered what was happening before an impressive phallic appendage was gloriously revealed, held between two of his fingers at the base as an offering. Despite being synthetic, it twitched and leaked just like-

"Well?" he implored nonchalantly with his non-existent brow raised in a curious manner.

It was too late to conceal the slack of your jaw and flush of your face, your heart pounding as you finally processed the reality in front of you. Reflexively, you swallowed and looked over your shoulder and then back to find that this wasn't some kind of joke or game, but a genuine request. It was a miracle you managed to speak coherently at all.

"Erm, right now, My Lord...? In eight minutes-"

"Seven, now," he interjected, adjusting himself to present his lap as a rather inviting seat, "but surely your schedule permits?"

He did have a point - and who were you to deny the needs of your handsome new ruler? You did make an obligation to yourself to do your tasks efficiently, and it wasn’t as though you were hesitant about the prospect of it, either. No, with an opportunity having presented itself like this, it would be suboptimal not to show your enthusiasm, wouldn’t it? Not to mention time was of the essence now, unless you were fine with a group of officials walking in on you fornicating with the dangerous zabrak...which, as you pondered the possibility, it only served to send that pluming heat within you to entirely new heights. He certainly wouldn’t stop if that were to be the case, and a hidden part of you hoped that it would indeed work out that way, if only so you could feel more like Maul’s favored slut.

You wondered if this was solely due to the influence of the beckoning sith atop his throne, or if you had secretly always been such a promiscuous person - in any case, it hardly mattered. The priority of the moment was in being a good little subject and serving your master, and perhaps if you did a suitable job, you’d be given the privilege of doing it again. In a bout of courage that faintly surprised you, you found yourself at the foot of his throne standing mere centimeters from his legs, careful not to touch him unless instructed to as you ardently asked the most important question of the evening.

“How would you like it, My Lord...?” You didn't bother to hide the sultriness in your voice, which seemed to please him immensely as the corner of his lip curled into a scheming smile, his hands quickly moving to your waist to pull you in closer as he answered.

"I trust in your discretion to satisfy me. I believe you already know what I want, and it seems that you're certainly eager to give it."

His hand slid over your thigh and to the source of your radiating heat, burrowing his digits between the crevice that the fabric of your pants was unfortunately shielding from the supple flesh there, yet that didn't prevent his touch from being any less euphoric. It might have embarrassed you somewhat at just how apparent your eagerness was, however it was clear that the man working at your own sealing strip was enjoying the spoils of your arousal already. His words still rang throughout your mind, making you relish in the freedom and permission that was implied there - he was asking you to be as slutty as you wanted, knowing full well that you were ready to be his whore the moment you first laid eyes on him.

He wasn't wrong.

With his affirmation to take charge and the ever-present knowledge that you were pressed for time at the forefront of your mind, you relaxed your inhibitions and got to work. After a few more ruts against his hand, his grip followed yours to your waistband and aided in tugging the annoying material to the floor, returning one to it's former place on your slick flesh as you stepped out of your pants and boots. It was impossible to suppress the moan that escaped your lips, however, you were aware that this wasn't solely for your pleasure.

Six minutes left.

You quickly got down on your knees and carefully handled his cock, licking your lips before you kissed the tip of the wet slit and wrapped your hot mouth around the circumference of the ridge, swiftly lapping your tongue around the head before you started sucking. His groan of approval fueled your movements as you gradually unhinged your jaw and began going deeper, bobbing your head with every stroke and eventually taking him as far as you possibly could. You gagged a little, but it didn't deter you in the slightest as every time you choked on him, a moan was drawn from his lips.

Not only could he feel everything despite not having an organic organ, your ministrations were proving to be more than what he was anticipating as he groaned and moved to grab a fistful of your hair to still your actions. Your hungry eyes meet his as you drew your head back and released his cock with a loud, echoing, wet pop and licked away the string of saliva that connected it with your bottom lip.

"Is everything all right, My Lord?" you inquired with a perverse lowness in your voice, already drunk on lust as he held you in place for a moment before slapping your waist in a gesture to rise through his uneven breaths.

"Up."

You complied with his order, lifting yourself back onto your feet as Maul practically pulled you into his lap by your thighs in a hasty move that nearly had you falling against his chest, but you were able to brace yourself against his arms. His dick rested against your abdomen, still warm and wet from your tongue as his fingers found their way back to your entrance to prep you for his cock. The way he tilted you upwards to lightly jerk himself with your own slick as he lined up with you was so tantalizingly good that you nearly forgot about the time constraint you faced.

Four minutes.

Your canines pierced your bottom lip as he entered you, the galvanizing pressure against your walls as you adjusted to him being so invigoratingly good that your hands gripped his shoulders without warning as you moved to sink down completely, ripping a gasp from the both of you in unison. You knew that you’d need an entire minute just to get used to the feeling of being so full, although sadly you couldn’t afford that kind of time in the present moment.

Maul, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be too preoccupied with that particular technicality and held you firmly by your hips to keep you from shifting, and in an unanticipated move he rested his forehead along the curve of your neck. The heat of his skin and breath tingled across your own flesh, the sensation strangely more intimate than the actual joining of your bodies - rather, it felt like a different kind of intimacy entirely. It wasn’t merely in the way his grip on you remained solid or the new titillation of his lips against your skin; it was in the stillness of it all, how instead of insisting you ride him immediately, he preferred to simply feel you for an evanescent occasion, no matter how brief.

You momentarily forgot the apprehension you had when the compulsion to kiss him infiltrated your mind - not the sort of lustful kiss that would be more appropriate for the situation, but a tender, more profound one. Would he mind such a gesture, you wondered, or would he even be able to discern the difference? One of his hands had moved from your waist up to the nape of your neck as you thought this, eliciting a soft moan from your mouth as he lured you in closer to him until you were chest-to-chest, the indication of the motion prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck so that you were symmetrical to one another.

Two minutes. Only two minutes until...

There simply wasn’t time for this kind of lenient indulgence or immersion, nor did the circumstances permit for the kind of casual affection you wanted to deliver. There was also the fear of him retaliating against a more tender action if he caught one to consider, so with a whisper of a sigh, you started rocking and bucking your hips against him.

Maul had been uncharacteristically quiet up until this point, an audible “oh!” escaping him as you continued your movements and utilized your nether muscles to grip his shaft with an ample amount of tightness. You fully planted your knees on either side of him and adjusted yourself so you could ride him properly - and in this case, that meant clutching onto his dick for dear life while you jerked up and down along his entire length like a jackhammer.

His head rolled back and his eyes became half-lidded, the rapid rising and falling of his chest indicating his closeness as he kept one of his palms on your leg to grip the meat of your thigh for support. For the first time in minutes, he finally spoke again through a strangled groan.

“That’s it, stars it’s so...”

His train of thought seemed to leave him as you worked him even harder, somehow taking him even deeper when you kegeled with the entirety of his cock inside. A twinge of pain indicated that his cockhead was nearly breaching your cervix, a fact that might have concerned you if there was any reason to believe you could get pregnant - and even if there was...you weren’t so sure you would care.

Less than a minute-

Luckily, it wasn’t long before you felt the crimson zabrak tense up beneath you and hold your hips tightly against him once more as he came, the spasming of his cock followed by the release of heat that filled your insides as he stilled and...

...and kissed you.

He had grabbed the nape of your neck again and brought your mouth to his all in one swift movement, capturing your lips with his own in a surprisingly graceful manner. It wasn’t chaste, his tongue immediately finding yours and warring with it as the dual beating in his chest matched the continuous pulsing of his gradually softening dick, but the action still caught you off-guard nonetheless. It certainly wasn’t unwelcome, and you found yourself matching his pace until he eventually relaxed, breathlessly parting from your lips and leaning back into his seat.

There wasn’t much time to even think, as over the sound of your breaths you could hear the faint echo of footsteps down the hall fast-approaching. You quickly pushed yourself off of Maul’s lap and frantically gathered your pants, managing to hastily get each of your legs through the proper channels and hoist the waistband over your hips, still fumbling with the sealing strip while you faced your master as a barrage of stomping boots was perceived behind you. You ruler had managed to tuck himself back into his own trousers in time, a sly smirk hidden beneath his otherwise fierce countenance as he addressed you.

“We’ll continue this conversation where we left off later tonight.”

Your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. He was wanting to see you again, to have you service him again after this agreeably satisfying evening. You nodded, a faint smile gracing your features as you bowed and turned to leave, brushing past the officials entering the throne room who were none the wiser about the sinful conduct you’d engaged in with Lord Maul of Mandalore.

You still secretly wished the session would have continued longer than it had despite the newfound company.

And you certainly hoped to continue meeting and surpassing Maul’s expectations in the bedroom - or wherever he saw fit - for a long while to come.

#darth maul #maul #maul x reader #maul x you #darth maul x reader #maul smut #lemon #star wars

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ladyfogg · 3 years

Text

First Date

Fic Summary: The time has come for you and Colin to finally have your first official date. Love Exists Masterpost. The Evans Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: M

Pairing: Colin Zabel/Female Reader

Warnings: Language & some making out/suggestive language

Last week when you flirted with Colin and followed him to his hotel room, it had been a quick, spontaneous decision. While it hadn’t worked out quite how you wanted it to, you got your chance a few days later when he slept over at your place.

You didn’t expect to spend the following day in bed with him, nor did you expect to feel so goddamn horny for the man the second he left. Even the quickie in your car wasn’t enough. You want more of Detective Colin Zabel and it’s driving you crazy.

You’ve never wanted someone this bad before. But your stomach is a jumble of nerves for an entirely different reason. Because tonight, you and Colin are having your first official date and you have no idea how to act.

Dating is new territory for you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in a relationship and even then it wasn’t serious. When Colin asked you to join him for dinner at his friend’s restaurant, you said yes before you could overthink. Of course, now that means your anxiety has been building.

The case Colin and Mare are working has kept them busy over the last few days so you haven’t been able to spend much time with your…friend? You don’t know what to call him. Boyfriend sounds too formal. Lover is a weird word that never settles quite right. Potential romantic partner? Booty call? Really close friend?

See, this is why you never date. It gets too confusing and messy.

At least, that’s how you used to feel. Now, you’re not so sure. Because every time Colin catches your eye and smiles at you, those old thoughts aren’t as loud as they used to be.

You keep telling yourself to relax and go with the flow, but it’s easier said than done. Which is why you find yourself running around your room trying to find something to wear.

Currently, most of your clothes are piled up on your bed. Digging through them, you reject everything you see, almost to the point of tears. It’s not until you sit yourself down and take a few deep breaths that you realize just how nervous you are.

“It’s okay,” you tell yourself. “It’s Colin. You know him. You like him. And he likes you. He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met and he’s not going to care what you wear as long as you have a great time.”

Bullshit. Dress to impress. Knock him dead. Take the beath out of him.

After several long minutes of internal debate, you manage to find something relatively dressy that fits and looks good on you. Shoving all your clothes back in the closet, you try to make your room mostly presentable on the off chance you and Colin end up back there after dinner. You’d like to assume you will but are trying not to put any pressure on him or yourself.

You just finish getting ready when there’s a knock on the door. Checking yourself over in the mirror one last time, you take a deep breath, before going to greet Colin.

Dear GOD, he looks amazing. While Colin tends to dress very well for work, it’s different seeing him in a suit jacket and tie.

“You look beautiful,” he says, eyes taking you in with appreciation. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yup. Just lead the way.”

Colin offers you his arm in an endearingly formal way and you can help but accept, letting him lead you to his car. The sweet man even opens the door for you. With a quiet word of thanks, you climb in, your heart fluttering with nervous energy.

As he drives away, you sense the nervous tension between you two.

“So…” Colin says. “I know I suggested my friend’s restaurant but if you’d rather go somewhere else that’s good too.”

“No, no, your friend’s place is fine.”

Colin nods, flipping on the radio to help fill the awkward silence. You don’t know what to do with your hands and find yourself fidgeting with your coat, seatbelt, purse, and whatever you can.

“How was your afternoon?” Colin asks. “You were gone by the time we got back from canvasing…”

“It was fine. Made some coffee runs and filed a bunch of stuff.”

“Cool...”

More silence. As Colin pulls into a parking space at the restaurant, you feel the need to clear the air.

“I’m sorry I’m not very good company tonight,” you say. “The truth is, I’m really nervous.”

Colin smiles and puts the car in park. “Honestly, me too.”

You both laugh, partly from relief and partly by amusement. “Look, I don’t have any expectations,” Colin continues. “I asked you out because I really like you and I’ve never connected with someone like I’ve connected with you.”

“We have connected very well,” you tease.

Colin’s cheeks turn red and he ducks his head as he tries to hide his smile. “I meant emotionally but yeah, physically too.”

“I also meant emotionally,” you say. “Mostly.”

He laughs and looks at you again. “I’m really happy to hear you say that. Glad it’s not all in my head.”

Hearing the self-deprecation in his voice, you slide your hand into his hair and pull him into a kiss. He responds instantly, melting into your touch and kissing back with equal intensity. When he draws back, his eyes are hooded.

“It’s not all in your head,” you assure him. “There is something here. Why wouldn’t I feel something for you? You’re smart, considerate, fucking adorable as hell…” He smiles and blushes harder. “You’re a great guy, Colin.”

He kisses you gently one more time. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I do,” you tease. “Now can we go eat?”

“Absolutely.”

Feeling lighter and less nervous, the two of you get out of the car. Colin takes your hand as he meets you on your side of the car. Heading inside, you can’t help but focus on the feeling of his hand in yours. It was solid and warm, just like the rest of him.

You’re seated right away and Colin let’s your hand go so he can hold your chair our for you. The atmosphere is calm and quiet, the low lighting set the right mood. Colin looks even more dashing than he did on your front porch.

The waiter takes your drink orders and you pick up your menu, trying to figure out what to have. Colin does the same.

“This is a nice place,” you comment, glancing around. “I’m not used to going out like this.”

“Stick with me and I’ll take you to all the nice places.”

“What? The backseat of my car isn’t nice enough?”

His ears turn red this time and he chuckles. “I didn’t say that. It has its merits.”

The waiter arrives with your drinks and takes your orders, before leaving once more.

“So, Detective Colin Zabel,” you say, resting your elbows on the table. “What’s a big shot like you doing in a place like Easttown?”

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I’m no big shot,” he says shaking his head. “I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

“It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” you realize. “Talking about that big case.”

“Can we not talk about that case?” he asks. “I’m not…I’d rather talk about something else.”

“No problem. Sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s okay. What about you? I never asked what it was like for you starting out. You know, after the academy.”

He seems relieved that you are willing drop the subject and as the conversation starts to flow, both of you get more comfortable. Wanting to take his mind off things, you decide to tell him about your more memorable moments as a young trainee.

“Oh, and THEN! Then Mare arrives right as I’m trying to detain this guy,” you say, hands moving wildly as you talk. “And she just gives me that stern, unamused look that she always has…”

“Yup, I know that look.”

“And when I finally get him into the back of the car she goes, ‘Hey, kid, I think you’re forgetting something’.”

“Oh god, no…”

“Yeah, the guy’s dog. He came tearing out of the house and I chased me around the car while Mare just fucking laughed.”

Colin throws his head back and laughs, a sight that makes your own grin widen. You’ve never seen him so jovial, well without alcohol, and you vow to think of more stories that’ll make him laugh that hard.

“Didn’t you go there because of the reports of his dog being loud and aggressive?”

“Sure did. Then promptly forgot when I noticed the stolen merchandise from the theft. Needless to say, I got a little too excited and, whelp, got chased by the dog.”

Colin is still laughing, shaking his head while he does. “Wow. Just…just wow.”

“I am so glad you enjoyed my embarrassment.”

“I absolutely did.”

His face is bright and you want to reach across the table and kiss him.

You wonder why you were even nervous to begin with. Once the food arrives, Colin lifts his wine in a toast. You follow his lead with your drink and you both smile as you clink glasses.

“Any particular plans after dinner?” you ask as you both start to eat.

Colin shakes his head. “Not in particular. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a soft bed that’s been missing you.”

His pupils dilate and you see his breathing pick up. “I…yeah, that sounds great. I kind of hoped you’d say that but I didn’t want to assume anything.”

Under the table, you run the tip of your shoe up the back of his calf and he jumps in surprise, almost dropping his fork. You smirk as he gets flustered.

“You have my complete permission to assume all you’d like,” you say in a low voice.

The evening takes on a very different energy after that. Heated looks are exchanged as you both eat as quickly as you can while still being polite.

“Are we thinking dessert?” the waiters asks when he gathers your empty plates.

You shoot Colin a raised eyebrow.

“I think just the check will be fine,” Colin says.

The drive back to your place is different than the drive to the restaurant had been. Colin’s hand rests on your knee, and just the pressure of it is enough to get your body going.

He barely puts the car in park before you reach for him, yanking him into a searing kiss. Colin is just as eager, hands fumbling to turn off the car before he can get them on you.

“We should go inside,” he pants between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

You stop just long enough to get out of the car. Coming around to the front, you both meet in the middle, Colin cupping your cheek while snaking his arm around your waist. God the way his mouth slots over yours is just so perfect.

The ringing of his cellphone cuts through the quiet night.

You groan in frustration. “Noooooo.,” you whine.

Colin huffs in annoyance, pulling back. “I’m so sorry,” he says taking the phone out of his pocket. “Shit, it’s Mare. I should take this.”

Sighing but understanding, you motion for him to go ahead.

Colin answers the phone. “Zabel, here. Yeah, hey, Mare…”

You know work has interrupted your date and you probably won’t be getting to the best part anytime soon. Colin’s face is somber as he listens to his partner.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says, giving you an apologetic look. “Bye.”

He hangs up.

“Duty calls?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “She wants me to meet her in an hour. There’s a club we need to check out.”

“An hour, huh?” you ask, lips curling into a smile.

“Yeah. It’s across town so it’s going to take me a—what are you doing?”

You push him so his back bumps into the hood of the car. “You have plenty of time to get there. I want to at least make out a little.”

Colin gives you that lopsided smile before pulling you into another heated kiss. You slide your arms around his neck as his go around your waist, crushing you against his chest. It’s filled with promises and silent wants. Neither of you wants him to go, both of you would love to go inside and pick up where you left off the other day.

But work is work, and you won’t make him feel guilty for doing his job.

Your tongue finds his, deepening the kiss as your fingers dig into the collar of his coat. Colin draws back just enough for his nose to brush yours as he lays several pecks on your lips.

“If I’m not done too late, can I come back?” he asks, voice filled with hope.

“You better.”

His smile widens and he gives you one final, sweeping kiss before gently pushing you back so he’s not pressed against the car.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Colin watches you walk up to your door but doesn’t get into his car until you’re safely inside. You wave to him from the door, hoping he’ll come back sooner rather than later. In the meantime, you are going to find the sexiest underwear you own and wait.

---

Series Taglist: @lejardinfleur @spidergirlmcu @anonymushhy @samsassinparvismagna @kitwalker64 @tatestripedsweater @xmaximoffic @marshmallow--3 @stellarbound @kais-messiahbaby @margaretboothsear @slightlyvicked @nia-s-not-so-secret-diary @liandav @billyhxrgrove @TheOriginalDoll87

#colin zabel #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel x you #evan peters #love exists

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slasher-sweetie · 3 years

Text

Wedding Night: Jason Voorhees x Reader NSFW

I had to go all out for our Big Boy's special day! Happy Friday the 13th everyone, especially my sweet Jason. ❤ NSFW below the cut.

It was one of the happiest days of his life. He had finally finished building your new cabin yesterday, and the two of you had decided on a whim to marry this morning. It was nothing fancy, just the two of you under the Weeping Willow that grew near the lake. Jason had even taken off his mask so you two could start this life together with no barriers between you. Just the two of you, face to face, heart to heart, two souls becoming one.

Jason had signed to you that you were everything to him. Ever since he was a child, even before he was pushed into the unforgiving waters of the lake, he knew that he would most likely never find anyone to love him besides his mother.

A face only a mother could love is what they had said, their voices dripping with malicious laughter at the expense of the poor little boy. Jason knew then that he was destined to have only his mother for the rest of his life.

But somehow, some way, you had been gifted to him. If Jason hadn't been religious before, he certainly was now that he worshipped the ground that you walked on. You were everything to him. The reason for his existence. He knew that the two of you were destined to be together. It was why he had spared you the first night he looked into your eyes. Because nothing had ever looked more like home than you.

In the year you had known eachother, Jason had grown to love you more with each passing second. Roughly 4 months ago is when he had started to build your new cabin, deeming his prior abode unfit to house you both through another winter.

It was modest, but it was sturdy and well insulated. It would keep you safe and warm, and that's all Jason ever wanted in life. He wanted to keep you safe and warm from the obstacles and problems that you would have to deal with. What he wouldn't give to shove his machete through anything that dare cause you anything but pure happiness. Unfortunately, all he could do was offer you a safe space to come home to at the end of the day. Even though he knew you deserved so much more.

Jason couldn't help but admit to himself that he was incredibly nervous, you had looked so breathtaking today, with the Autumn sunshine on your skin, and the way your eyes stared up at him, full of love and acceptance. Tonight would be the night that you would bind yourselves together forever, body and soul. Jason didn't know much about what happened in the marriage bed, besides what he witness from the trespassers that came to Camp Crystal Lake.

Making love was meant to be saved until marriage, for the person who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, that's why you and Jason hadn't done anything more than kiss. Jason was a good boy. He would never lower himself to the level of those evil camp counselors. And he would never cheapen his relationship with you by ever putting you into a situation where your morals could be questioned.

That's why he was so nervous for tonight. He really had no idea what to expect, but he knew that he wanted your first time together to be perfect. He wanted to pleasure you. He wanted you to enjoy being with him. He wanted to pay you back and make you not regret giving yourself to him.

The sight of you entering the bedroom broke him from his thoughts, you were only wearing a robe. Only a thin scrap of material separated your body from his. His hand twitched, wanting to reach out and touch you.

"Are you ready for bed, Jason?" you ask, he had never heard your voice sound like that, warm, smoky, sultry. It caused his pants to tighten, his cock already straining for freedom. He shifted uncomfortably until he reminded himself that this was okay now, you were his spouse, his forever.

He nodded anxiously, and in awe, he watched as you let the robe fall to the floor. If his cock hadn't been ripping through his pants before, it certainly was now. He was so hard it hurt.

His eyes raked over your body, every curve, edge, scar, freckle, dimple. You were the epitome of perfection. He couldn't believe he was this lucky.

You smile up at him sweetly, "Well come on big guy, am I going to do this all by myself? Undress."

At your command Jason pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his scared abdomen, and then reached down to shimmy out of his pants, leaving him in only his underpants and his mask. His thick cock pushed out against his underwear, tenting the material. Jason looked up at you, and found himself filled with triumph. Your eyes had darkened with what only Jason could assume was lust. You wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Using this little confidence boost to his advantage, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underpants and pushed them down to the floor, his cock springing free from the material. It was long, maybe 10 inches, and thick with veins racing up and down the shaft. His head was a perfect mushroom shape, and the shift curved to the right. Jason looked back up to see your reaction, and he could've jumped up and down, you had taken steps closer until you were right in front of him, your eyes fixed on his girthy member. Without warning, you reached out and grasped his cock in your warm hand.

Jason hissed through his teeth at the sensation, tiny pinpricks of pleasure shot up his shaft and made his balls tighten up. You rubbed his cock, paying extra attention to the head, taking the drops of precum and sticking it over the rest of him. Your pace increased, and Jason's breathing became heavy, his chest rising and falling powerfully, as puffs of air escaped from his mouth. He could feel his balls tightening further, and he could feel something about to happen. All of a sudden, a blinding flash went off behind his eyes and pleasure shot up and out of his cock. When Jason opened his eyes, he saw you licking his spending from your fingers, which nearly pushed him over the edge again.

You stare down at him in wonder, "Jesus, honey, you're still hard."

He glances down, and his member is indeed still hard, if not looking a little swollen.

You reach up on your toes and Jason knows exactly what you're asking for. He removes his mask and reaches over to lay it gingerly on the bedside table. He then stoops to your height and you catch his lips in a hungry kiss. He could taste saltiness, what he guessed to be the remnants of his spending, on your tongue when you pressed it into his mouth, moving it against his own. His hands gripped your waist and lifted you up to his level, relieving the pressure on his back.

In a practiced move, you wrap your legs around his waist. Jason walks you both over to the bed and lays you down, settling himself on top of you, between your spread legs.

Jason pulls back from the kiss and experimentally traces his hands down your body, getting to know every curve of your body. He listened to your sweet sighs of pleasure as you pressed sloppy kisses to his jaw, neck, and chest. Finally, his hands reached the warmth between your legs. He explored your most sensitive part first, molding his fingers to your form, and drawing forth a soft whimper from your lips. He watched your face as over the span of a few minutes his fingers brought pleasure to you by focusing on giving you pleasure. When he pulled back his hand was messy with your release.

He stared into your eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth, copying your earlier actions. You let out a soft moan in response, and grabbed his wrist, bringing his fingers to your own mouth. The feelings of your tongue bathing his fingers, and your teeth scraping gently against him had him opening your legs wider, and then his thoroughly soaked fingers found your waiting hole.

You gasp at the stretch of one of his digits prodding gently into your hole, he moved it back and forth, letting you get used to his size before adding another, and another. Only when you were a moaning, writhing mess, and Jason was sure that you were properly prepared to take him did Jason move into position.

His cock pressed against your hole, and as he began to slowly slip in the fat tip, you gasped at the size, your hands grasping Jason's shoulders. When he was fully seated inside of you, Jason stopped, giving you time to grow accustomed to his size.

After a few minutes of being stretched, you gave him permission to move by pressing your lips against his throat.

The feeling of being inside of you, of your warm hole gripping him so tightly was almost too much to handle. He could feel your insides quiver around his thick cock, and he had to close his eyes against the onslaught of pleasure. Your hands were everywhere, smoothing over his back, digging into his shoulders, as you gasped, whimpered, and at one point, you let out an animalistic scream of pleasure when Jason his a spot inside of you.

At this reaction, Jason doubled his efforts to hit that spot over and over and over again. Your head was thrown back and tears were leaking from the corners of your eyes as you experienced the same pleasure Jason was feeling. He could feel his impending release, and by your cries, Jason could tell you were close to. The feeling of you tightening on his cock, and the gush of your release spurred him on to his finish. His cum coating your insides and he breathlessly lay atop you.

He pushed up, not wanting to crush you on your first night together, and he watched as his spending dripped from your gaping hole. The sight had his cock perking up, but Jason ignored it to instead lay himself beside you.

He gently caressed your cheek, and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, his way of making sure you were alright. You give him a sleepy nod, and bury yourself against his chest. You let sleep take you, and in a few minutes you're snoring against his chest.

Jason holds you in his arms, and as he drifts off to sleep, he thinks about how lucky he is that you chose him.

#jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher x you

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ask-asexual-crystal-gems · 3 years

Text

What's a common thread between ADHD and the asexuality spectrum? The answer might surprise you.

A while back, an ADHD user said in response to my question, “how did mindfulness exercises go?” a single word, “dissociation.”

It was only long after I had replied, that I had to remind myself that people think of dissociation as a scary thing.

I had to remind myself that a psychotherapist I once knew was pretty unorthodox, and gave me perspective on the matter that defused all the mysteriousness and internalized socialized discomfort surrounding it, which is ultimately rooted in both fear of the unknown or unfamiliar, and maybe a little bit of stigma, too.

Naturally, I do not talk about these sorts of things with general people IRL, so newly having a ‘conversation’ online about it did not jostle my awareness of others’ attitudes like it probably should have.

Things like anxiety and ADHD are, let’s say, more “ordinary” neurodivergences. (remember, the word applies to ALL mental illnesses, also, not just traits. Many don't consider most cases of ADHD an 'illness,' nor a lot of presentations of autism)

Those are more "ordinary." They don’t mash that “this is weird” button, so much as simply “this is very unpleasant.”

But dissociation can be the former, and not the latter.

Let me back up and explain that a bit.

People see dissociation as undesirable.

But why is it, you should ask.

Leave aside questions of physical safety. I’m just talking about sitting down somewhere, and there is no risk to you.

In the typical view, it’s not just another operation the brain can do, or an altered mind state, as we discussed it, rather, it is somehow considered a “bad” outcome.

When, ironically, for many forms of mind training, which we’ll put under the umbrella term “meditation” for simplicity’s sake, the end goal is a type of on-command dissociative state.

Whether you are internalizing your attention, externalizing your attention, or just trying to get that danged mind chatter to shut up for once and give you some peace, whichever way you are sliding along that scale, there is always the route open to you to pursue this ultimate peace.

So this person, who was trying out mindfulness?

Think, if you switched all the aircraft cockpit switches to check if everything was lighting up correctly. But instead of being an experienced pilot, you had no idea what would happen once you started testing everything out.

Accidentally withdrawing your physical senses, and seeming to distance your “self” from your body, which experienced practitioners do without batting an eye, (pun intended) would seem like a dysfunction rather than a built-in feature.

Quieting those areas of the brain dedicated to sense perception is quite a lovely experience, when you are educated on it, do it on purpose, and expect it.

Whereas anxiety is almost never a positive experience, unless it’s not really overwhelming or potent, and you’ve 'reframed' it such that it’s exciting, like any other adrenaline junkie bender.

The milder forms of dissociation, termed depersonalization or derealization, that seem to be quite common among asexual people, are also often considered as a negative thing, instead of just the current, value-neutral state of mind, which is trainable.

A much more common and even milder form happens when we sink into routine. Ever had a stretch of weeks on a job where you look back and you feel like you were sort of “automated”? Like you weren’t really present? You’re somehow a little surprised that that much time has passed?

That “time dilation,” accompanied also sometimes by a distorted sense of chronological sequence happens a lot with ADHD people, regardless of circumstances, but most everyone in the populace has experienced it at some point, barring perhaps the super privileged who have never been forced into a literally “mind numbing” job.

Maybe you’ve also experienced the sensation where you get into a car, perhaps when you’re on a familiar route you’ve driven a thousand times, or especially on long road trips, and you seem to zone out and lose time.

The brain is pretty good at conserving energy.

This is what she tells her patients, to calm their sympathetic nervous system. It circumvents that distress, that health-sapping stress response to this ultimately harmless “weird” experience, vastly improving their quality of life:

Dissociation is a continuum- many forms of it are common. Not some super strange thing corralled in a small corner of the sum total of human experience.

“Reframing” these things is essential to attaining incrementally improved mental health.

Clearing away all the internalized judgement, the feelings of wrongness, etc.

Just one more step out of the norm.

Just another neurodivergence.

It is conceptualized as unnerving when it happens suddenly and sharply, though, because it is so different from “ordinary” everyday experience.

The same way one person who hasn’t been around dogs much might react to a large dog barking with fear, and another person standing next to them having the exact same experience, trained and knowledgeable in recognizing true aggression versus excitement or mild warning, would not feel threatened.

Yes, having that particular toggle out of your grasp may be annoying and to those not given this perspective, frightening. (And if other personalities are involved, that gets much more complicated!!) But, consider. One of my mentors said calmly once, that she lost time for, say, 10 or 15 minutes while sitting down quite regularly, and felt very recharged and energized afterwards. It’s not exactly like sleep, because there’s not that head nodding and relaxation of muscles. Almost instantly gone, and instantly aware again, not that feathery transition as happens when drowsing or gradually falling asleep.

I hypothesize to her that this had probably started up because she’s involuntarily dropping into a deep delta or theta brainwave state for a bit, because that’s what she does in ‘brain entrainment’ recordings. (The frequencies are very good for relaxation when you're anxious and have a hard time unwinding yourself, others are good for focus during studying, and are therefore used by ADHD people) Unless she wants to pay some big lab to measure her neuron firing frequency though, there’s no way to tell for sure. The point is, that she directly benefits from this ‘taking a break’ from thinking. She is not bothered in the least by her mind occasionally saying, ‘you know what, I’m overwhelmed right now, gonna switch off for a bit.’ When someone gives their mind this permission to pause from its worries and senses, each the internal and external input, sometimes this is the outcome. It is not a problem to her whatsoever that this toggle occasionally moves of its own accord.

People are afraid of what they don’t understand.

But she understands it.

People are afraid of new experiences.

But to her, it’s old hat. On an MRI, each of the parts of the brain dedicated to the senses dim. Occipital lobe for sight, temporal lobe for hearing, etc.

If I were brushed up on the neuroanatomy of this process better, I could also name the parts dedicated to internal imput that would grow dimmer as she entered that state. Heck, they study this stuff so much, when interviewing meditation practitioners and testing for stuff like blood flow changes as their attention shifts, those images probably already exist.

Dissociation is not a mysterious thing.

It serves a purpose.

It’s your brain’s ‘energy saver’ mode.

Or in some cases, ‘recharge.’

So, to the person who argued that ADHD people should be cautious about using mindfulness? I must ask again, why?

Why would you forgo the benefits? Why would they tell others to do so??

Usually the main reasons dissociation causes problems, that aforementioned therapist says, is that people are overloaded to the point where it happens not when they’re relaxed, and can daydream or drift, but randomly when there’s too much pressure in their lives.

The fear response to it is just like any other overactive fear response or phobia- with time and therapeutic work, they are all resolvable.

/////////

#this post is NOT about dissociative identity disorder #only mentioned it in passing to separate it from the discussion

#adhd #asexual #generalized anxiety disorder #mental health stigma #mental health #therapy #neurodivergence #neurodiversity #depersonalization #derealization #mindfulness #anti capitalism #time dilation #brain entrainment #delta waves #theta waves

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thetorturerwrites · 3 years

Text

Lamb Ch 11 - Tell Me

***This amazing artwork was gifted to me by @elmidol. Please do not re-use or re-post it without permission from them and/or myself. Don’t be a dickbag.

Previous Chapter

Summary: “Please don’t pretend.” It was little more than a hoarse croak that cracked at the end. “I can’t bear it. Let me be.”

“What do you know of pretending?”

He pinched your chin and bade you look. It wasn’t a rhetorical question; he expected an explanation, but there was no simple answer.

“I know you don’t like me. You’ve made it clear.” You sniffed and looked down, hiding behind your lashes. “I just don’t know why.”

Author’s Note: This chapter has my heart. I hope you enjoy.CN: Mentions of pregnancy, mass death, self-harm inclinations

***

Even in Hosnia, with its perpetual twinkling twilight, there was night.

Gradually, a stillness swept over the land. The stars dimmed to a faint flicker. The wandering wind settled down to rest. And the expanse of The Ren’s keep went stone silent. Not a ripple in the bath. Not a creak from the ages-old walls. Not a crackle of candlelight.

It was a crypt. Your crypt.

And yet, you could not die in it. You remained suspended in this agonizing in between. Perhaps if you lay quietly enough, you could slip beyond his enchantment, will your heart to beat slower and slower. Perhaps if you wallowed low enough in your grief, you could trick yourself into believing you weren’t apart from your family when the bombs dropped. You’d died with them.

Perhaps if you concentrated on it enough, you could simply cease to be.

These morose notions kept you curled into yourself. After leaving him in the throne room, you’d escaped to his bed, hoping for a few hours of reprieve. You kept on your cloak, hiding your head and face in the folds of the hood. You tucked your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly, imagining it was Nona. It was the only comfort you would get here, but it was hollow. Hollow, like everything else.

Numb, you ignored him when he entered. You didn’t need to see him anymore to know he was here. He changed the atmosphere by entering, altering the barometric pressure enough that you had to pop your ears whenever he came near. When the work was put down for the night and the souls collected, he came for you.

You thought briefly that maybe he would leave you alone. You’d fulfilled your part of the agreement. As far as you could tell, you were, in fact, pregnant. You’d done your part. But you let the wish die, as everything did here. He was too arrogant to stop turning your body against you. For all of your hostility and heartbreak, your body responded to him in a way you couldn’t quash. Regardless of how hard you tried.

You didn’t bother unwinding from your ball. He would move and position you how he saw fit. Your eyes, dry and red from staring into nothing for so long, closed in preparation. You found you could endure his emptiness if you did not look at him. It made the times he bent you over to have you less bitter. You’d been grateful for the ability to bury your head and not be tempted to look.

Tonight, however, he did not pull you from your self-pity. Neither did he jerk you from your cocoon. He watched you; you could feel it, but you would not, could not, give him the satisfaction of looking over your shoulder. You were simply too wrung out to care. Whether it was pity or anger or outright meanness, he slid into the bed behind you without a word.

An inkling nagged at the back of your mind, an anger you were too deadened to acknowledge. His presence comforted you, irrespective of your ire. Knowing where he was and that he was so close made you feel safe. He was the only indomitable soul in the whole of existence, and you had quite a good reason to be protected. More so now.

Despite yourself, you fell asleep.

You awoke to a tangle of limbs and the decadent scent of belladonna. You’d nearly forgotten how good he smelled close up. Having rolled out of your nook in your slumber, you'd stretched out and were cradled in his embrace with his fingers lazily stroking the back of your head in a way that made your scalp tingle.

Alarm bells rang in your mind. This was dangerous ground, and you needed to escape. He could fast make you forget your commitment to staying away. You shifted in his hold enough for him to ease it open slightly; but when he understood you meant to flee, those wrought irons trapped you again.

“Let me go,” you said timidly.

He not only ignored you, he tipped your face up to press an almost chaste kiss to your wrinkled brow. It was too much, the very thing you feared. Your fight erupted, and you twisted to get free. You heard yourself telling him you’d done what he asked; he could leave you alone; you can’t do this.

He doused your outburst by rolling onto you, punctuating your feebleness. With one arm and one leg trapped beneath him, you gulped down fear and exasperation. He slid his leg up between yours, situating you so your cunt rubbed his broad thigh. Your cheeks burned, a complex mix of mortification and yearning. You’d finally found an empty place, a desolate oubliette in your heart where you could hide, and he was already dismantling it.

“Please.” You turned your face to one side, lips quivering. “Don’t do this.”

You knew you begged more tonight than you did when you arrived, more than you did when he fucked you the first time, but it was unstoppable. You wouldn’t come back from this. If he broke you, if he cracked you open to make room for himself, you would never again be able to contain the sadness. You would ache and cry and pine without solace.

"This," he said flatly. It was an admonition and a challenge combined into a single syllable.

“Please don’t pretend.” It was little more than a hoarse croak that cracked at the end. “I can’t bear it. Let me be.”

His thumb swept across your pulse, feather soft and lingering. His jaw ticked the way it always did when you frustrated him, but you’d weather it. It was worth the risk if you could get free.

“What do you know of pretending?”

His patronizing question stoked the resentment lurking in the dark matter of your brain, but you fought it, blowing out as steady of a breath as you could manage. He pinched your chin and bade you look. It wasn’t a rhetorical question; he expected an explanation, but there was no simple answer. You knew you made far too many assumptions about his character, but he wouldn’t tell you anything to color your vision of him otherwise.

“I know you don’t like me. You’ve made it clear.” You sniffed and looked down, hiding behind your lashes. “I just don’t know why.”

“Hm. Why.”

He dipped his head to place another soft kiss to your neck, right above the hollow. He enjoyed finding the particular places that made you shiver. You pushed at his shoulder weakly, a last ditch effort, but he caught and drew your offending limb up over your head. His granite fingers latched around your wrist, keeping you bound to the bed, to him.

This was bad. Both hands at his mercy. One leg stuck between his. His thigh perfectly situated to welcome your body’s yielding. You felt more bare, more vulnerable, more weak.

Carefully, he pulled the string holding the hood of your cloak in place. Until he untied that bow, you’d forgotten you wore it. Dutifully, he unpeeled you, layer by layer and in a fashion far too intimate. You’d jumped through that door with only your cloak because he kept you clad in as little as possible for easy access. And plunder as you might through room after room, there were simply no other clothes that would fit you available.

That idiot decision led you directly to this moment and this torturous undoing.

You suspected the lack of attire was deliberate, but you forgot about all of that when he tugged the hood apart and pushed it further back. He caressed the length of your jaw with his knuckles, deliberately drawing out your suffering. This was calculated; he had millennia to learn manipulation, physical, mental, and otherwise.

You didn’t stand a chance.

“You ask too many questions.”

Egregiously slow, he popped the first button on your cloak, the one below the same hollow he’d kissed. With his index finger, he drew a small circle there. Your toes and fingers curled involuntarily. You wanted to argue that you only asked questions because he wouldn’t tell you anything, but you realized he answered your accusation. It was why he didn’t like you. A boulder dropped into your belly because you didn’t want to hear it. It was enough that he didn’t; you wouldn’t recover if he told you why.

“You are stupidly reckless.”

The second button met a similar fate, a leisurely unfastening. It wasn’t only the fabric he plucked apart. It was also you, and you squirmed beneath the utter slowness of it all. You wanted him to edge you forever and to hurry the fuck up.

The last button sat over your heart, and you cursed it for being so bloody prophetic. You felt like howling. You wanted to hurt and sob, but the trail of his fingers made you forget your own name. With the third button gone, he traced the line of your sternum before dipping down to lick up a bead of sweat between your breasts.

“You distract me,” he murmured, lips crawling back up towards your pulse.

That last one cracked lightning in your head. The room tipped sideways into spinning. Your lungs turned to steel, struggling to expand. You ground your jaws together painfully, and your throat burned with acrimony. With those three words, he shredded your tender soul to ribbons. Ruined, you squirmed, all pins and needles and lust. It felt like you wept, but your cheeks were too hot to be damp.

I don’t. I don’t. I’m sorry. I don’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t.

It became your litany. You chanted it, lamenting and weary, but his hands did not waver from their task. He flipped the cloak open, bearing your flesh to the cool midnight air. His slightly calloused palm smoothed up from your calf, along the curve of your hip, and over the ripe swell of your breast. He squeezed, fingers digging in until your hiccups changed to whimpers. The noise he made right before he covered your straining nipple with his mouth coaxed your entire body into a jerk.

“Kylo,” you choked, barely able to get it out. “Please. Don’t make me.”

It was the first time you said his name, and his head shot up. His eyes bored holes into you, swirling incandescent. Fast as a feline, he shifted, settling more of his body on you and looking down. He went from halfway lying between to spreading your thighs obscenely wide with the sheer size of his frame.

You didn’t want him to see the things you couldn’t hide, but he clearly had no plans to let you loose.

“Make you.”

His truncated parroting was infuriating, but you fought valiantly to not be goaded into an argument you'd never win.

His thumb breached your lips to swipe at your tongue, and your body surged up painfully as though he electrocuted you. You’d worked hard to forget the sugary taste of him, the way his skin drugged you to an erotic high at the briefest taste. He was deadly in every way and sexier than anyone had warned you, or maybe even knew.

It was pointless to argue any further. He would win. He would always win. Hardening yourself against what you knew to be a hungry gaze, you looked up at him. For a flash of a second, he wavered at the sight of you, but he disguised it with the press of his lips into a steadfast line.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m not alone.”

You said it with much more calm and confidence than you actually felt. Your time in his captivity, beneath him and wrapped around him, developed this new ability to distill your rambling down to its foundation. He didn’t like questions or mortal nonsense. He wanted it plain, always, and you’d learned how to do it. He didn’t like a lot of extra words; but no matter your newfound skill, you overflowed with them. The essence of your human-ness was to make connections, to find understanding and empathy.

“I have nothing. Not a home, not a family, not you.”

You studied the way he studied you, watching him swallow what looked startlingly like a feeling.

“I’m not like you. I’ve had to mourn my family alone, and…” You stalled, but you knew he wouldn’t let you not finish. “I have to mourn you every time you say something nice to me or do something that looks like kindness but isn’t.”

His brow cocked, a clear response to what he felt was your false presumption, but you didn’t care. You were beyond it all. You may as well say to him whatever you wanted because it couldn’t get worse than his stony countenance day after day, and the alternative to that was the peaceful forever of death.

“I’m not asking you to like me.” Foolishly, you carried on, but your voice dropped, quieter and more afraid. The bravado you felt faded fast. “I’m asking you to not make me like you.”

The way he looked at you, slightly off stoic but decidedly demanding, boiled your blood. He reached down and hooked his fingers under your knee, drawing your leg up and around his hip. It parted your legs more for him, opening you up in a way that made you swoon. You thought you could stay out of reach of his dick; but with it so close, you practically salivated for it.

“It's far too late for that.” Following the first, he tugged your other leg into place around him. “Your body gives you away.”

You wanted to disagree, but his teeth nipped your cheek. You shuddered at the tease of his hard length sliding through your mess, seeking its target in the warm and wet that never quite abated. Your everything swelled for him. Breasts, nipples, pussy lips puffy and engorged with your rushing blood. He wasn’t wrong, but you despised him for pointing it out.

Your breath ruptured into wild panting, sharp through clenched teeth. You stared up at him, hopelessly lost to the spiraling of color in his irises. He took advantage of your deliriousness and pushed your previously pinned arm above your head with the first and held both down with one massive hand. It elongated your body and arched your torso up into him, a thing he enjoyed if the thrum in his chest was to be believed.

You imagined yourself an insect, wings stretched out and nailed to the bed; and all the while, the mad scientist above you inundated your senses. His mouth descended upon your breast once more, eliciting a strangled keening when your vocal chords caught up to the rest of you. He batted the hard nub with his tongue until you writhed pitifully, and he only switched to the other when you tried to buck him off from the over-stimulation.

Playing more and more into his hand, you hugged his sides with wobbly legs and tried to draw him in closer. Your body did truly lead the way, each movement beyond your mind’s purview. It no longer hearkened to your whims but to his. Your insides leaked out of your sex, painting both you and he with heat and want. It scented the air and mingled with his tempting poison.

You were seconds from begging him to fuck you when the blunt head of his cock found its place. He gripped your hip and mouthed at the side of your neck as he rocked himself further into your weeping slit bit by bit. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and your fingers dug into his because it always amazed you. He was long and thick and perfect; and though he stretched you open to the point of burning, it was intoxicatingly good. Thankfully, he bottomed out right when you thought you surely couldn’t take any more.

You whined his name, which spurred him to bite at your shoulder. You convinced yourself it was to cap off the grunt you heard in the back of his throat. He masked another noise by burying his face into your nape and sucking a mark into your salty skin.

You clamped your eyes shut because these were the sounds you so desperately wanted to hear for weeks. Anything to show you did well, to show that he enjoyed you, or at least your pussy, in a way he would never say. You’d forgotten, however, that shutting your eyes so hard contracted your cunt at the same time until he withdrew without warning and rammed back in to enjoy that tightness. You yelped in surprise but angled your hips to give him a deeper channel. The moans you tamped down for so long clamored to the surface. Ablaze, you couldn’t be quiet to save your soul. You mewled and yowled with each powerful snap of his hips and the way he pillaged you for every last centimetre your cunt had to offer.

This was unlike any time he’d had you before. He kept your limbs immobilized and your body taut. He kept his pace persistent but unhurried, which had you pleading pitifully. And he kept his mouth on you, lips grazing, tongue tasting, teeth scraping. Enticing, sinful noises were pushed into your skin as though he didn’t want you to hear them but couldn’t contain them.

And then, it happened. The thing you wanted so passionately. The thing you dreamed about.

He snuffed out your cries with a fiery kiss, blasting through the last of your willpower.

His mouth was heaven, delicious and plump and divine. He knew exactly how he wanted to kiss you, and he led you to it expertly. He tipped your face precisely the right way and wrecked you with the spice in his spit. And when your lips trembled, agitated by sadness and relief and passion, he bit them, as though to chase those things away and replace them with himself.

Abruptly, it all came to a halt. He pushed up to his knees, lifting the lower half of your body in the doing. He didn’t pull out, not willing to surrender his occupation of your body. Nor did he relinquish his rigid grasp of your wrists, opting instead to splay his free hand across the soft swell of your belly, pushing down to trap you there. Your head swam, and you groaned because you felt more full as he pressed on your abdomen. You knew he waited for you to look at him, but you blundered, destroyed and witless.

“Do you want to die?”

His normally razor sharp tone lilted into something you could not name. Your eyes struggled to settle on one particular feature because he was hypnotically beautiful. His eyes shone brilliantly bright; a soft pink blush blossomed across his nose and cheeks from his arousal.

Punctuating the question, his hands found the magic he laid upon you at your forearm and thigh. He rubbed through the ever-looping blood, which, somehow, made your insides shiver. It was a wicked sensation, a stroke to your very veins that pulled a carp from the depths of your being.

“Tell me.”

Your eyes stung. It was cruel of him to ask you this while buried to the hilt inside you, while he was in the middle of obliterating the walls you tried so hard to build between you. But it wasn’t a threat. As you peered up at him, charting a course from one irresistible mole to the next, you saw he asked in earnest. He offered you the escape you hopelessly sought.

Strange how you weren’t so sure you wanted it.

Your loved ones still lay unavenged. Your call for the annihilation of The Resistance still had not been answered. You fought so hard to make it here, sacrificed so much of yourself to that end. What would it say about you if you abandoned it? Weak. Childish. Unworthy.

Beyond that, you had to admit he was right. It was too late to pretend your feelings for him didn’t complicate the issue. You weren’t so stupid as to think he loved you, but you burned for his kind word. You craved his touches even when they weren’t kind. He lit a fire in you and made you feel, a feat you’d not accomplished on your own since the death of your people.

Not yet trusting yourself, you worried the inside of your lip and sought his eyes, but you weren’t prepared for the way he looked at you. He was primal desire manifested, ragged and raw need encased in the skin of a man. The first man. The only man.

But what if he died? What if he found Vader and walked off his own cliff? You’d be here, alone and lonely, with only whatever semblance of a child he produced to stop you from going mad.

How you answered would change the arc of your life irrevocably. If you said yes, this teetering on the edge of begrudging coexistence ended. You could slip into nothing and be done with all of this. If you said no, he would have his hooks in your spirit for eternity. No matter if he never loved you, you wouldn’t be able to refuse him. Ever.

“N-no.”

It was a jittery, hesitant sound, but it was true. He accepted your supplication by pulling you close so he could lift you up. He guided your fingers to his shoulders and settled back on his haunches, holding you closer than ever before. Your weight sunk you down onto his cock and you whinged from the way it nudged your sensitive cervix. You crossed your ankles and tried to inch upwards for a bit of relief.

One chiseled arm held you aloft, while the other traveled your length, winding from the nape of your neck to wrap around your generous hip. He found the spot between where your thigh ended and where your ass began and made a handle, using it to move you up and down, forward and back.

In mere moments, he had you wound up and ready to combust all over again.

“S’ansur yien,” he crooned into your neck, a murmur more profound than thunder. “Tyor ilohira.”

“Kylo? I…”

The way he growled into your neck and slammed his hips up into yours when you said his name settled your curiosity. There was no doubt he enjoyed hearing you say it, and you wondered if he’d ever heard it on another’s lips before. You clung to him as his pace quickened. Over and over he said those eloquent, alluring things into your neck, your hairline, your shoulder. Things you'd never heard before; things it seemed like he couldn't not say.

Tyor ilohira. Yie ilohira. S’ansur yien.

His presence expanded, saturating the room with a consuming euphoria that addled your mind. All while he worked you on his cock in much the same way he did that first day, using your body for his pleasure. Unlike before, he was as deep in your cunt as he could physically be without ripping you apart, and he strained at the seams to keep from doing so.

You quaked. There was nothing for it but to brace. Your pussy stung, and each subsequent shove of his dick tore at your cunt more. You bled for him, as you had so many times before, and you knew he could certainly smell it tinting the air with the slightest hint of iron. It roused him to a roughshod railing every time.

His mouth lined up with yours in a kiss that could only be called a brand. It was fierce and full of urgency, lusty and skirting frantic. His grip turned brutal, possessive; and then, it was your turn to swallow the indecent sounds he made as he flooded your battered cunt. He rode the orgasm out, pumping his hips slow and insistent until his satisfied hum abated.

You swayed, coiling your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck to not topple backwards. You were wary but content to stay here however long he might like. You traced the line of his scar down to his shoulder blade with a skimming fingertip. He was ethereal, holy, and you wanted to pray to him, to exalt all that he was and would ever be, though you didn’t know why. He hadn’t exactly earned that level of worship.

He didn’t meet your stare. Instead, his luscious lips rolled together as he pieced his indifferent veneer back together. A gasp lodged in the back of your throat because he had been affected. You saw it; here was your proof. He’d ridden that whirlwind with you, the result of which was plain as day on his face.

“Kylo?” You dared a whisper, not wanting to break the moment, but your ludicrous need to know things simply would not allow the niggling question to go unasked. “What was that you said?”

His lips lifted at the corners, an entertained huff that won you a nudge of his nose to yours. His eyes softened slightly. And you thought you might fly out of your body.

“No more talk of cliffs,” he said, blatantly dodging your question.

An almost affectionate kiss to your forehead closed the book on the topic, but you’d remember what he said forever, the secret he accidentally shared. You’d already begun plotting the rooms you’d ransack for the language texts you found while he was battling Solo.

The mesmerizing crest to which he carried you ebbed further and further away. A fatigue seeped into your muscles and bones. At his withdrawal, an altogether bleak vacancy infused you with doubt, right down to your marrow. You tried to curtail the childish grumble, but it escaped through the harsh way you chewed the inside of your cheek.

Had you been conquered or consecrated?

What you wanted at the moment was sleep. Whereas he needed none, you still required it daily, a marker of your human fragility. The bath, and its healing ripples, could wait until tomorrow. He did not see fit to allow you this luxury, however. Instead, he scooped you and the blanket you tried to wrap about yourself up. He stepped into the hallway and turned in the opposite direction you expected. You peered over his shoulder forlornly, having decided that a bath would be preferable to whatever this would be.

He walked towards the doorway that started this insanity, dousing the embers inside that had you believing you might make it through today. You shrank more and more into yourself the nearer it drew. A blind terror took over, but you couldn’t move a single cell to save yourself.

The choice he asked you to make meant less than nothing. His decisions were the only ones that mattered here; and having debased you, having obliterated all that you were, he intended to throw you out anyway.

You dared yourself to be furious, to find indignation and hate in the cavity where your heart should be, but there was none. There wasn’t fear either, only resigned acceptance. A heavy sigh sunk your shoulders down, and you closed bleary eyes. You might not fight your fate, but you wouldn’t welcome it.

But the blast and crackle of the portal opening did not come.

To your dismay, he set you on your feet in front of the free-standing obsidian wall in his throne room. The disturbing looking glass you tried so hard to avoid these days. The temptation to lose yourself to memories of Nona was too great. Scowling, you refused to face it. When he attempted to tip your face up, you stubbornly shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest.

It was his laugh that drew you out of what you were quite aware was a fit.

You amused him, and it might have annoyed you had it not been for your outright astonishment. It wasn’t a smile so much as a smirk, and it wasn’t a full laugh so much as a chuckle, but it was a thing you had absolutely no idea how to process. You’d only seen him angry, lewd, or uncaring. You didn’t know how to process…. affable.

Disregarding the flabbergasted look on your face, he turned you about, but you were so afraid of what you would see that you stepped backwards, trying to dodge what came next. His trunk-like arm cinched about your middle, anchoring you in place as he leaned over your shoulder on the right. He shushed your uneasy chirping and placed his hand upon the cool rock.

“Kylo,” the warble in your voice betrayed your apprehension, “I don’t…”

The picture burst onto the surface, cutting off the woeful entreaty you planned. It took a full minute before you understood what you looked at — the destruction of a world. Your hands flew to a throat filled with fiberglass. Revolt roiled in your stomach and turned to chalk in your mouth.

“No!” You yelled and thrashed. “I don’t want to see this!”

The aggravated rumble in his chest didn’t dull your attempt to look anywhere but where he wanted. His fingers at your side dug in painfully, cementing you to this spot. It wasn’t that you feared for your safety. With him engulfing you like this, there was no safer place to be. The concern was that you didn’t want to see what annihilation truly meant. You wanted that to remain as nothing you could imagine, the scope of it too far beyond your insipid, idiotic mind.

He wouldn’t let you go until you obeyed, though, and you knew it. The tears that had been threatening to spill for hours broke loose, rushing over your horrified flush. The devil at your ear spoke, but it was lost to the dreadful cinema playing out before you. There was only the ringing in your ears as you watched blackness detonate and spread outwards across a lovely land that was so alive before.

If he hoped to stun you into a stupor, he succeeded.

Your thunderstruck neglect allowed him to slide the blanket from around you and toss it aside. The next time his mouth found your pulse, it was with the press of his bare body to yours. He plied the back of your neck with slow kisses until you exhaled. You didn’t remember stopping, but a burn in your ribs forced the issue.

“D’Qar,” he said quietly as the dead planet faded.

Another took its place, and your mouth went slack. You couldn’t help but place your hands there to gag yourself or to foolishly forestall what already happened. It assuaged your own guilt by little more than a fraction. The next planet met the same gruesome end.

“Yavin Hoth.”

Your brow knit, and you tilted your head to hear him better. Taking advantage, he licked a stripe from his thorny collar to behind your ear.

“Dantooine.”

The picture shifted once more; the devastation coming quicker and with less and less mercy. Your eyes shot open, bulging out with understanding. He begat a war inside of you with this burdensome lesson because you knew those planets. You recognized them from the miserable, despondent plight that led you here.

“Takodana. Ilum.”

Resistance planets.

Your knees buckled, the weight too great to bear. It was only his sturdiness that kept you from hitting the floor. With his ghastly slideshow finished, his hands were suddenly everywhere. Around your throat, squeezing your ribs, hauling you onto your toes with fingers in your sticky pussy.

“Is this not what you asked me for?”

His dramatic declaration did not match the reality of what he was and what he did. He took your request, your dying wish, and hideously warped it. You asked for The Resistance to be exterminated, but what he’d done was use your heartbreak as an excuse to further his own cause. He wiped out entire worlds with you as his unwitting muse.

Worst of all — You couldn’t tell him to stop.

What did that mean for you?

You dropped into him, a sack of flour against marble. Torn between two truths, you choked on an appeal, unable to get it to leave your lips. The first was that you did this. You were responsible. There was no separating from the fact it was likely you who sparked the idea for his crusade. You’d unknowingly unleashed him upon the Galaxy when you asked him to avenge you.

The second was that you didn’t regret it. With all that happened, with the icy isolation, the bruises you bore for him, and the devastating fact that you’d snuffed out billions of lives, you regretted no part of it.

Disgust clogged your mouth and fattened your tongue. Many of those people did not deserve to die. The overwhelming majority of them did not deserve that fate. But The Resistance did. In the darkest pit of your heart, you were glad. Glad those planets were gone. Glad The Resistance lost so much. Glad he’d done what was in his nature and wiped so many of them from existence.

You were so mired in the swampy feelings and cloudy thoughts you didn’t feel the slide of his lips over your shoulder. It wasn’t until he pushed you face first into the thing that you broke from your reverie. Just in time for his mouth to connect with the bottom of your spine. You shot up to your toes when he bit your ass and hauled your hips back towards him.

Before you could protest, or think of why you ought to protest, he planted his face between your thighs and directly into the center of your cunt. You barked a curse, arching and squirming under the sinful slither of his tongue. At your front, his insistent thumb found your throbbing clit and pressed in, eliciting the most abject whine you’d ever produced.

It wasn’t the first time he’d tasted your blood, nor the first time he’d enjoyed toying with the rips he made in your fragile flesh. It was simply the first time he seemed to care if you enjoyed it.

You��d been in his bed for weeks, maybe years given Hosnia’s disparate slog through space and time; and though the first few encounters were decidedly more patient and mild, he’d long since tired of waiting for you. Lately, he fucked you hard and fast, and he didn’t care for anything other than filling you as many times as necessary for his seed to take root.

But now…

Now, Kylo Ren, Death, the embodiment of all endings, was on his knees. For you.

He laved your cunt with his saliva and sucked your plasma-tinted slick down like candy. You vibrated each time his tongue delved into you and scratched at the infernally smooth surface to keep from tangling your fingers in his hair. His nose rubbed indecent parts of you that had never received such attention. His teeth tugged the engorged meat of your labia until it popped loose with a squelch. Your cunt pulsed around his probing, and he moaned in what sounded like delight.

Like a bitch in heat, you twitched in exquisite agony.

You pressed your forehead to the wall, barely upright, blinking heavily, and hardly seeing the floor. Overwhelmed was not an apt description for the moment, but it was the only one you could latch onto.

What you could see, however, what you could make out between your legs and just past his punishing hand, was the bob of his cock, recovered and standing tall, proud, and ready. The thought of him rendering you further asunder dropped you off the edge, and you shuddered. You couldn’t muster a moan through the orgasm; it was too entrenched in your guts, too laden with emotion.

But he knew. He knew, and he claimed it all with sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss to your exhausted lower half. Cunt. Thighs. Hips. Ass. Vertebrae. You hissed when he slid two impatient fingers into your well worn core to scoop out the very last remnants of your downfall.

He did it. He won. Conquered, not consecrated.

The tangy aroma of you wafted close by when he collected you in a new embrace. He folded you into his dizzying gravity, covetous of his prize.

“Kylo?”

Your brow crinkled because a strange flutter disrupted your equilibrium. You struggled to identify it because it had been so long since you felt it. You pressed a hand to your hot forehead, to your belly, to your ear, trying to uncover the source. Was it fever? Exhaustion? Had you pushed the limits of his spellbinding too far?

Untroubled, he hummed his response into the side of your head, no doubt expecting another of the endless questions you produced.

And then it was there. This bodily function you’d forgotten because you didn’t need it here.

“I’m really… hungry.”

Whatsoever The Ren offers me, I shall accept. He will carry me across dark waters, guide me to the distant shore, and bear me hence to my ancestors.

And I will praise his name for all my time there.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #lamb

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lavendersb · 3 years

Text

Our Ultimatum

Chapter 3: Sandstone

Boba Fett x Fem!Reader

Summary: As Boba prepares for his trip to Jagba, you start to find your feet in the palace.

Warnings: Nothing too bad right now, some mild threats to the reader, blaster firing

That night you struggled to sleep.

After the incident in the throne room you had eaten with Raab in the communal dining hall, where he had explained that you would need to work without him for a few days. He had been asked by Boba and Fennec to help them prepare for their journey to Jagba, and this took priority over the weapons log. You were flattered that Raab thought you capable enough to run the armoury by yourself, but you couldn’t help but ask the questions that the day had left you with.

“What actually is the Kostah deal?” you had asked tentatively, hoping you hadn’t overstepped.

“It’s a deal with the Kostah brothers,” Raab responded flatly.

“I gathered that, but why’s it so important?”

Raab finally looked up from his plate of food. He sent you an unimpressed look before sitting up in his chair and letting out a steady sigh.

“The Kostah brothers dominate the spice trade in the outer rim-” He relented “it’s been their industry for years. We’ve been able to co-exist with them for a while now, but recently they’ve gotten… ballsy”

“Ballsy how?”

“They’ve been aggravating certain crime syndicates, being lenient with others. Boba thinks they’re trying to generate allies so they can overthrow him,” Raab explained.

“But then why would he want to form a deal with them, if he thinks they’re plotting against him?” You leant across the table to talk, not wanting anyone else to overhear what you assumed was sensitive information.

“You sure do like your questions, huh?” Raab huffed “Well what is it they say… keep your friends close and your enemies closer? That’s all it is. Don’t worry yourself about it”

You had sat back up, sensing that was all you were going to get from Raab for now and chose instead to mull over your food.

Now you lay in your bed sleeplessly whilst trying to process the events of the day. You were still interested in the Kostah deal, what Raab had told you so far was enough to fuel your interest in the business of Boba’s empire.

You flip the pillow to the cold side and pull your blankets higher, trying for the umpteenth time to get comfortable enough to sleep. You wanted to be well rested tomorrow, keen to make sure you did your best on your first day working alone.

You woke up late the next morning.

Frantically you had leapt out of your bed, swearing and berating yourself as you dressed in a hurry. You couldn’t remember when you had eventually drifted off, but considering how groggy you still felt, you assumed it was much later than you had intended.

You didn’t have time to run to the dining hall, instead you grabbed a few stray ration packs you had lying around your room and promptly exited for the armoury. You hoped desperately that you wouldn’t bump into Raab before you arrived, not wanting him to think you were rushing.

The journey to the armoury didn’t take long. Rounding one last corner you come to the brassy metal doors of your workplace. You stop when you reach it, sighing and silently thanking the maker that you got here in good time.

Just as soon as your heart rate starts to settle, it suddenly spikes again. You notice the keypad, usually when you arrive the light above it is red, indicating the doors are sealed. Now, however, the light is gleaming green. The doors are unlocked.

You feel yourself begin to panic, perhaps Raab had decided to swing by before he leaves you alone for the day? Somehow you’re not convinced, Raab wasn’t one to baby you, he had given you a job and hadn’t told you to expect him, besides, he was busy helping Boba and Fennec prepare for their journey.

You quietly slipped through the door, not wanting to alert any potential intruder until you found out who they were. As you emerge into the large maze of weapon crates stacked high you wonder if you should go and find help.

You still. Somewhere in the armoury you could hear movement, the sound of somebody pushing the crates and boxes around. Your heart rate spiked; There was no way it could be Raab, but who else could have gained access?

You weren’t entirely sure what to do. Raab had assured you that nobody was allowed into the armoury without his permission, and he certainly would have told you if you should be expecting somebody whilst he was gone. Instinctively you reach for one of the smaller cases, as quietly as you could you flicked it open and pulled out the simple blaster it housed.

Feeling somewhat better protected, you continue to weave your way through the stacks of crates, getting closer to the source of the noises. As you round a corner you come upon the back of a person. They’re hunched over a crate, rummaging through it’s contents.

“Hey!” You snap, raising your blaster. The figure stilled but didn’t turn to face you.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” you add, hoping to get more of a response.

The figure straightens up and you adjust your grip on the blaster rifle, keeping it trained on their back. You hope desperately that you won’t have to use it. Even at this close proximity you don’t have much faith that you’ll hit your target.

“You should watch your tongue when you speak to me.” The intruder turns to face you. It’s Yovu, the temperamental zabrak from Boba’s clique and despite the fact he’s a familiar face, you don’t feel at all comforted by his presence.

“You don’t have permission to be in here,” you insist, refusing to acknowledge his comment to you “I think you should leave”

Yovu curls his lip at you, pushing himself away from the crate and stalking slowly towards you.

“I’d be careful with that blaster little one,” he mocks “you might hurt yourself”

You bristle at that. From Boba that pet name feels like a gentle caress, both soothing and exciting your soul in the same way his gentle touch does, however from Yovu it’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever been called. You elect to ignore his comment, you will not be threatened in your own workplace, especially not on your first day working alone.

“I said you need to leave. Now” you say, in what you hope is a decently assertive tone.

Yovu just scoffs at you. He continues to walk towards you, stopping briefly when his chest hits the barrel of your blaster before stepping closer to you, pushing the weapon towards your body.

“Boba may have picked you to be his little plaything, but that doesn’t make you special kid. You’re nothing, and you don’t get to make demands of people like me” He’s gotten so close to you that you can see every scar and line on his leathery, orange face. You refuse to back down despite the nerves you feel, instead you opt for pressing the blaster harder against his chest in warning.

As soon as he feels the pressure Yovu’s hand snaps up, grabbing roughly onto your upper arm and yanking you viciously. You cry out instinctively as pain erupts through your arm, crumpling slightly into his grip.

“What’s happening here?” A low voice calls from behind you. Relief rushes through you as you can tell without seeing him that it’s Boba.

Yovu looks slowly from Boba back to your face. He doesn’t release you straight away, opting instead to give you one last warning squeeze.

“I just came to see how our newest addition is settling in, that’s all” He says with false sincerity before quickly releasing you. You stumble back, trying to put as much space between you and the zabrak as possible.

Yovu stalks away, acknowledging his employer with a tight-lipped “Fett” and slinking from the armoury. When you’re both sure that Yovu has left, Boba turns to you. Between the blaster in your hand and the look of distress you’re sure is still plastered on your face you reckon Boba easily figures out that there’d been a little bit more than a pleasant chat between you and Yovu.

“Are you alright?” He asks, coming closer to you and offering to take the blaster from you. He moves in a similar way one would act around a spooked animal, but you can’t find it in you to mind all that much. You offer the blaster to him which he takes with one hand and reaches out to you with the other. You’re all too happy to let him rub away the residual pain Yovu left on your arm, and the gentle way he touches you has you practically melting into him.

“Yes, thank you,” You say, truly grateful for his intervention.

“What did he want?” Boba asks, you can tell that behind his visor he’s looking at the opened crate that Yovu had been searching through.

“I’m not sure. He was searching for something I think, and didn’t appreciate me telling him to leave”

Boba hums at your answer. He takes a deep breath, moving his hand from your arm and rest on your lower back to give it a comforting rub. Much to your embarrassment you can’t help but press against him, enjoying the protective stance he’s taken.

“What about you?” You pipe up, breaking Boba’s gaze away from the weapons crate and bringing it down to you. “What did you come here for? I thought you’d be busy preparing to fly to Jagba”

Boba huffs a laugh and breaks away from you. You’re embarrassed at how your body attempts to follow him without thinking but you hold your ground, watching instead as Boba crosses to the open crate and peering inside.

“I came here to see you,” Boba says casually.

“Me?” you parrot, your heartrate spiking suddenly.

“Yes you, little one. I wanted to apologise for cutting our conversation short yesterday.” He closes the crate’s lid and turns back around to you, leaning slightly against the now closed box.

He studies you with measured amusement, you’re sure he can tell how flustered he’s got you right now. You swallow, determined to not make a fool of yourself.

“That’s alright. I saw how important that deal was, you needed to go” you manage.

“But we were also having an important discussion,” He says, but you honestly can’t think about much that was said yesterday other than the way he had touched your leg “and you never answered my question.”

His voice was laced with humour, teasing in a way that seems much too tender for this hardened warrior.

“What question?” You ask through a slight laugh.

“About if you wanted me to teach you to shoot,” He answers, raising the blaster he had taken from you in his hand.

“Oh.” The conversation comes flooding back to you, and you find yourself blushing furiously.

Boba waits for your answer expectantly, but inside your head there’s a conflict of interests gathering momentum. On the one hand the possibility of spending more time with Boba is almost too intoxicating to deny. On the other, the thought of him seeing how pitiful you are with a blaster is more embarrassing than you’d ever care to admit.

“It might take a while to teach me, I’m really not that good” You joke instead of answering.

That doesn’t seem to perturb Boba. With one hand he reaches up and removes his helmet, turning to place it on the closed crate behind him.

“You can’t be that bad”

You huff out a nervous laugh because you absolutely can be that bad and watch as Boba crosses over to you, offering the blaster back. You shoot him an unconvinced look, but the almost tenderly amused way he’s looking back convinces you to accept. You tentatively take the blaster from him.

“Shoot my helmet” He instructs, stepping back to give you a good view of the green beskar.

It’s not that far. Realistically you should be able to hit it, but the nervousness caused by having an audience you so desperately want to impress has your vision practically swimming.

“You could start by lifting your blaster”

You jump a little as Boba’s voice snaps you out of your internal monologue, only to find that he’s come to stand behind you. His arms wrap around you to gently grip your forearms, raising the blaster for you. Your back is pressed firmly against beskar chest, and you’re convinced that even through all that metal he can probably still feel the tremor that runs down your spine.

You readjust your grip on the blaster, aim it as best you can, and pull the trigger.

You shut your eyes to the bright red charge emitted and the force with which the blaster goes off rocks you further back into Boba’s chest. His arm wraps around your waist to steady you and stays there as he lets you come back to yourself. You eventually open your eyes, only to be faced with the sight of Boba’s visor staring back at you, unmoving from its spot atop the crate.

“Huh” Boba says beside your ear “Well, good thing I’ve got time to spare”

You blush wildly with embarrassment at his words. You’d been fighting since the first time you met him not to make a fool of yourself, but despite your best efforts that hasn’t been going according to plan. Now you have to deal with the fact that the best warrior this side of the galaxy knows you are his exact opposite, the single worst shooter in existence.

“When I get back from Jagba I’ll arrange a proper training session. I’ll have you shooting like a pro in no time,” He says, giving your hip a firm squeeze before going to retrieve his helmet.

“Don’t set your standards too high” you say lightly, attempting to joke away your embarrassment “I think I might be a lost cause with a blaster”

Boba pauses at that, huffing out a tiny, amused laugh before fixing his helmet back over his head. He turns to you, swaggering back over and stopping dangerously close to you. You refuse to step back, even as his hand comes up to gently hold your jaw in place.

“I could turn the dullest gungan into the best marksman this galaxy has ever seen if I wanted to. I’ll make you a good shot, Princess. Don’t worry.” His voice is low, dangerous and full of exciting promises that have you utterly intoxicated, if he wasn’t holding your chin so firmly you reckon you would have melted into the floor.

Boba lets you go, and you watch unmovingly as he disappears towards the exit of the armoury leaving you entirely transfixed and far too distracted to think about your work.

So much for knocking this silly infatuation.

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett imagine #boba fett imagines #the mandalorian #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #my writing #our ultimatum

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

How We Break and How We Mend

Summary: Logan had only ever had one wish since he first fell in love: to not be in love anymore. Soon enough, he realizes there are better things to wish for. Content: Abusive ex, (talk of) the consequences of mental/emotional abuse, mention of a cut (consequence of physical abuse), dub-con kissing, general worry and concern, happy ending Pairing: Losleep

Since middle school, Logan had only ever had one wish: to stop being in love with Remy Crescent. At first, it had been because he was simply out of Logan’s league- he was popular, Logan was not. And then it had been because they were friends, because as much as Logan loved Remy he would never risk destroying anything that made him happy… and their friendship made Remy happy. Then it had been because Remy was in love with someone else, and damn did unrequited pining feel like shit.

But he wasn’t wishing for it now. No, right now he was wishing for something very different- the instantaneous removal of Remy’s (now ex-) boyfriend from existence.

They were sitting on Logan’s couch- Logan’s couch because Remy didn’t have a couch anymore, Logan’s couch because Remy didn’t have anywhere else to go anymore, Logan’s couch because Remy had finally- finally- left his ex. Sitting on Logan’s couch because it was as good a spot as any for Logan to patch up the cut on Remy’s cheek from where the son-of-a-bitch had hit him.

Logan hadn’t liked Remy’s boyfriend from the start. There had always been something wrong about him. But he had ended up putting it off- it was likely just him being envious, feeling as if he wasn’t good for Remy because Logan was the only one good for Remy. So he had put his personal feelings aside and focused on recognizing that Remy’s boyfriend wasn’t inherently bad just because he wasn’t Logan.

And that worked, at first, a few weeks going by during which Logan was only slightly uneasy by Remy’s boyfriend. He seemed to be a good person, a little quick to anger and in need of a better sense of humor, but overall fine. And Remy seemed happy with him, so Logan was happy.

But then Logan started to notice other things. How Remy acted restrained around him. How Remy started to act restrained even when he wasn’t around. How Remy would apologize for things he didn’t need to apologize for, how he would act around Logan as if he were treading on ice, how he’d flinch at loud noises and how his humor became much more self-deprecating than it ever had been before.

Quickly (and yet not nearly quickly enough), Logan realized what was happening. Remy was in an abusive relationship. Not physically abusive, no, but certainly mentally and emotionally.

Logan had tried to get him out of it, of course. But some things were easier said than done. By the time Logan knew what was going on, Remy was caught up in the lies and the abuse. Nothing Logan said could convince him how bad his boyfriend was for him. So Logan was left waiting, waiting for something to break, for the perfect chance to finally get Remy out.

But he never wanted it to happen like this.

“I’m an idiot.” Remy had been muttering that to himself for a minute, over and over as he dug his nails into his legs. “A complete moron. No wonder he went after me, I was the perfect mark, no fucking common sense whatsoever-”

“Don’t say that.” Logan reprimanded as softly as he could. Remy’s ex had already ordered him around enough, Logan didn’t want to be doing it either, but he couldn’t let Remy keep mumbling self-hate. Carefully, Logan patted down the edges of the bandage he had secured over Remy’s cut. “You aren’t stupid, Remy. He manipulated you. Anyone could have been his victim.”

“But it wasn’t anyone, was it?” Remy spat, flinching and drawing in on himself almost immediately after he spoke. “I- I’m sorry, Lo, I didn’t mean that.”

“I know you didn’t.” Logan assured him, putting the first aid kit aside before turning his full attention back to Remy. “You are distressed and have just come out of an abusive relationship. I’m not going to hold anything you say against you.”

Remy chuckled bitterly. “You should.”

“No, I shouldn’t.” Logan responded, taking one of Remy’s hands in his own. He squeezed it gently, hoping the pressure would be comforting and grounding. “You are emotionally unstable for perfectly valid reasons. Your words should not and will not be held against you, not by me.”

“...Thanks.” Remy said, letting out a small sigh and deflating a bit. He squeezed Logan’s hand back as well, which gave Logan some hope. “So… what now?”

“Now, you rest and recover.” Logan said. “Tonight, you will sleep, or at least attempt to. You can stay here as long as you need to, and I will do my best to help you identify and address- to the best of your ability- taught negative behaviours. In a week, I will call my uncle, who is a therapist, and get a session arranged for you.”

“A therapist?” Remy repeated, sounding skeptical. “That seems a little extreme for a break-up, don’t you think?”

Logan held Remy’s hand just the slightest bit tighter. “You have been in a mentally and emotionally abusive relationship for nearly nine months.” Logan stated, trying to keep his voice measured and not filled with fury. All his anger was directed at Remy’s ex, but that didn’t mean Remy would interpret it that way. “This is more than just a break-up, and it is logical that you seek professional help to properly work through the consequences of that relationship.”

“...Okay.” Remy said, voice resigned in a way Logan despised. “I trust you, Logan.” And Logan hated that too. The words sounded too forced, the line too rehearsed. Maybe Remy did trust him, but that wasn’t what his words meant. They were a defense against Logan lashing out if he didn’t agree. And even though Logan had expected it, he still hated that Remy’s ex didn’t need to be around to hurt him.

But those weren’t things he could address right then. Remy needed to rest, to let the final strains of fresh adrenaline and fear run out of his system.

“You should get some sleep.” Logan told him, beginning to stand up. “I’ll fetch you some blankets, and you can sleep on the couch-”

Remy’s grip on Logan’s hand tightened just the slightest as Logan tried to pull away. “Please don’t go.”

“It’ll just be for a moment.” Logan assured Remy, even as he once more took his seat in front of Remy. “I’ll be back, Remy, I promise.”

“I know, I just-” Remy shook his head, letting out a huff. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Logan replied immediately. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Remy looked down, not speaking for a moment but not letting go of Logan either before speaking up again. “You’re so smart, Lo.”

“I- what?”

“I said you’re smart. Because you are, you really are.” Remy said, looking up again. “And helpful. Even to people who don’t deserve your help.”

“Remy, I don’t-”

“And pretty.” Remy continued, ignoring Logan as he leaned forwards, free hand coming to rest on Logan’s cheek. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, hun.”

And before Logan could say another word, Remy was kissing him.

For a millisecond, Logan froze. Some small part of his brain was cheering in victory- he was kissing Remy, after all, his dream since seventh grade. Wasn’t it something to be celebrated?

But Logan knew it wasn’t. He knew that this wasn’t love, that this wasn’t anything good, anything to be excited over. And for all he had thought about kissing Remy before, Remy’s happiness and well-being had always been his priority.

So just as soon as the kiss started, it was over, Logan pushing Remy off of him even as he held the other man’s shoulders and kept him from trying to kiss him again. “Remy, no.”

“Logan-”

“No, Remy. You can’t do this. I can’t let you do this.”

“I love you.” Remy said, and Logan hated that there were tears in the corner of his eyes, already threatening to spill. Logan wasn’t sure if Remy believed what he was saying, but he wanted to. He needed to.

“No, you don’t.” Logan replied, ignoring the pain in his metaphorical heart at the words. “You’ve been manipulated into believing you are lesser than other people and that, therefore, to be worth anything you must be worth something to someone else. Your ex tricked you into believing that someone else was him, and now that he’s gone you’re simply trying to fill the gap. Even if- even if you did love me, nothing we could have would be healthy.”

“But I trust you, Lo.” Remy pleaded, grabbing Logan’s other hand so that he could hold both of them, squeezing them. “I trust you not to hurt me.”

“And I would never.” Logan agreed. “But that doesn’t change the facts. You’re… you’re looking for someone to make you whole, Remy, and that’s not what love is, even if that’s what your ex tried to convince you it was. You need to heal, and trying to convince yourself that you’re in love with me won’t give you that.”

Remy broke then, letting out a single sob before he collapsed against Logan, crying into his shoulder and holding him close like he might disappear if Remy let go. Logan held back, rubbing circles into Remy’s back, focused on letting him cry before calming him back down. He needed it, after all.

And if a tear or two slipped down Logan’s face too, well, it wasn’t like any one was going to notice.

“Logan? Come on, babe, I know you’re home. Don’t leave a pretty man waiting!”

Logan sighed as he placed down his book, but the sound was only fond. For Remy, it would never be anything else. He stood up, walked to the door and opened it.

It had been almost two years since Remy had broken up with his abusive ex, and the difference was clear. Remy was smiling happily, sunglasses pushed up on the top of his head to reveal bright eyes with minimal bags beneath them. The leather jacket Logan had bought him to replace the one his ex had given away (without Remy’s permission) was slung over his shoulder, and everything about Remy’s pose figuratively screamed relaxed and carefree.

“Can I come in?” Remy asked, brushing by Logan even as he spoke. Logan could do little more than laugh at the action as he closed the door. Most people would have seen it as annoying. Logan saw it as another reminder than Remy had his confidence back and that he wasn’t afraid to show it.

“I suppose even if I say ‘no’ you’re not going to leave, are you?” Logan teased as he turned to face Remy.

“Nope! Because I’d know you were lying.” Remy said, turning from where he had been taking in Logan’s living room (a sight he had seen many a time before) to face Logan, grinning. “I’m always welcome here, remember?”

“I’d never forget.” Logan promised. “Though you don’t tend to swing by with no reason- looking for someone to annoy?”

Remy laughed at the joke, but the sound was hesitant, and Logan stiffened. Though Remy in general was alright with teasing jokes, Logan knew there were still times when he couldn’t take them- times when he couldn’t remember that Logan’s words weren’t serious.

Logan approached Remy, taking both of Remy’s hands into his own, lightly squeezing them. Over time, it had remained the most efficient way to ground Remy. “I’m sorry, Rem, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Hey, darling, don’t worry about it.” Remy responded, squeezing back and smiling softly at Logan. “You didn’t upset me, don’t worry. I just… I’m here to ask you something.”

“You know you can always ask me anything.” Logan reminded him.

“I know, but… doesn’t always make it easy, heh.” Remy said, letting out a small chuckle as he looked away. When he stayed that way for a moment, Logan gently tightened his hold on Remy’s hands, pulling his attention back to Logan.

“It’s okay.” Logan assured him, offering him a matching soft smile. “Whatever you need to ask me, it’s okay. I will not judge you in any way.”

Remy nodded at Logan’s words, taking a moment to take a breath and collect himself before he said, “Logan… will you date me?”

Of all the questions Logan had been expecting, that certainly hadn’t been one of them.

“We’d take it slow at first, of course.” Remy continued on, seemingly undaunted by Logan’s silence. “Not because I don’t trust you, but because I still don’t… fully trust myself. I don’t want either of us to get hurt, especially not you.”

“I… Remy, are you sure about this?” Logan asked, some small part of his brain screaming at him for being an idiot. Remy wanted to date him, for goodness’s sake, and all he had to do was say yes!

But for all that time had changed, Logan’s resolve to keep Remy safe and happy remained unchanged. He wasn’t going to let the past possibly ruin Remy’s future.

“I know why you’re worried. And I get it. That night I broke up with him… I was a wreck. I did things we both know I regret. I felt broken and I thought you were the only thing that could fix me, and I was hasty. And I can never apologize enough for that.”

“You don’t have to apologize for it at all.”

“Then I won’t. But my point remains.” Remy pushed on. “What I did that night,,, that was a mistake. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was being honest when I told you I loved you, Logan. The timing was horrible, but it was true. It’s always been true, ever since high school. And while you were right back then, when you said anything we had would be unhealthy, I think… I think if we try now, it could be something good.” Remy paused to smile almost ruefully at Logan. “And I think we deserve something good.”

Logan squeezed Remy’s hands. “You deserve everything good.”

Remy’s smile grew. “That’s why… that’s why I want to date you Logan. I think we’d be something good- better than good; I think we’d be great. But not if it’s going to hurt you.”

Logan frowned. “Hurt me?”

“Don’t say yes because you want me to be happy. Say yes because you want to, or say no.” Remy explained. “I will love you the same either way. But I had to ask. I don’t want to let one bad night define what we could be.” Remy paused to smirk. “Plus, my therapist says me ignoring my feelings is repression, and he’s got a big no-no policy on that.”

“Therapists do tend to frown down on that, yeah.” Logan agreed, laughing.

Remy laughed too before the two of them fell into silence- comfortable silence, as it always was between them. It never felt awkward, just… right.

“So… what do you say?” Remy asked again, voice gentle as he asked. “Like I said, no wrong answers- and if you need time to think about it, I can go-”

“I’d love to.” Logan cut him off, blushing a bit as he clarified, “Love to try, that is. Try… try us.”

“Really?” Remy asked, leaning in close to Logan’s face. “No lies? You really honestly want to date me?”

“I’ve wanted to date you since middle school.” Logan admitted shyly. “Trust me, Remy. This isn’t pity.”

Remy’s eyes lit up as his smile once more morphed into a grin. “Can I hug you?”

“Please do.”

Letting go of Logan’s hands, Remy’s arms wrapped around Logan, pulling him close up against Remy, his hold tight but not restraining. Logan wrapped his arms around Remy, hugging back. It was perfect.

For a moment, they stayed like that, happy to just be in each other’s company.

“I love us.’’ Remy said quietly, breaking the silence but not hurting the moment in the slightest.

“We’ve been ‘us’ for all of a minute.” Logan pointed out.

“Don’t care.” Remy responded, resting his chin on top of Logan’s head. “I love us.”

Logan let out a small chuckle as he leaned against Remy, fully accepting the embrace. “I love us too.”

And for once, Logan was happy his middle school wish had never been granted.

#losleep #ts logan #ts remy #ts sleep #sanders sides #ts sides #fanfic #fanfiction #the cryptid speaks #me: ah yes this is h/c losleep #also me: *leaves out what the hurt is* dnbcfjhdb #anyways- enjoy :3

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