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satisfiedmoonwatcher · 1 year

Text

Perceived in French

Summary: Sure gets lonely being a mercenary. Especially when no one knows you exist. But someone has noticed. And that someone has been dreaming about getting close to that body for years. Could there be more there than midnight meetups?

Mild PWP.

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Male x male. Oral, rim job, hand jobs, fingering, thigh fucking, anal, swallowing, throat fucking, cum shot, mild somnophilia (sleep grinding), cuddling.

Some depictions of violence and blood (fighting). Minor talk of drugs, alcohol and self harm. Lots of bad language and swears. Gets a little gritty. (These boys are mercs for crying out loud.)

Word count: 8,777 - Rub one off.

Pairings: Jake Lockley x Jean-Paul DuChamp (Frenchie).

MCU/Comics. Chose your fantasy.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*

Marc always forgot how dark it got out in the desert. Far away from any cities or major towns. There was nothing to see but the silhouette of the sand dunes on the horizon.

Now and then movement would catch his eye, reminding him that the desert was not a wasteland of nothing. There were birds, insects, lizards, foxes, and various other things looking to hunt away from the heat of the day.

Behind him in the distance he knew his team was sitting around the fire by their tents and laughing about things that didn’t matter. If he was back there, perhaps he would laugh too. Perhaps he would feel included.

But it was Thursday and he had watch duty. They didn’t really have anything in particular to watch for. It just meant that directly after a mission, there was a higher chance of someone following them back to base camp with an idea of revenge or taking any spoils.

So here Marc sat, on the hood of his jeep in the cold and in the dark, looking out into the desert at nothing.

Admittedly today was probably not a good day for him to be on watch. He had been feeling tired and strange all day.

It had started in the early morning when they raided a camp set up by some people who may or may not have been raiding local villages. They never looked into the claims. All they knew was that the money spoke louder than any claims to the contrary.

They stormed the camp. He took a misstep and a bullet grazed his arm, leaving a bloody gash for him to clean up later. It had rattled him. If he hadn’t of tripped the bullet would have gone right through his head.

He still wasn’t sure what he had tripped over. It was like his leg had just decided to stop working.

Marc distantly heard his radio crackle. Someone was talking back at camp. It didn’t sound important and he didn’t bother to get up and check it. If it was urgent then they would call him.

His radio crackled again and he stared up into the star filled sky. It was so empty out there. So big. So alone.

He felt his eyelids droop and his body sink down.

“OYE!” Someone was suddenly at his side yelling.

He felt his body jerk in alarm and-

“Hey hey hey!” Jean-Paul lay pinned on the ground, hands up in surrender with a large knife held to his throat.

Jake blinked and stared down at the man he was straddling. “Idiota.” He slowly withdrew the knife and slipped it back into the holder at his side.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Jean-Paul smiled up at him. “Tried to radio you but you didn’t pick up. Thought I better make sure you aren't dead out here.”

Jake looked up and around as if just now noticing it was dark. “What time is it?” He sighed and rubbed his temples, fighting off a headache. The act made him feel the ache in his shoulder where the bullet had grazed earlier. “Please tell me this has been properly taken care of.”

“Well it’s fuck-o-clock is as much as I know.” Jean-Paul shifted under Jake and grinned. He had been around Marc long enough to know when the man he was talking to was not Marc. Marc was a very secretive and private man who never talked about his past.

This was not abnormal when it came to fellow mercenaries. You either got the guys that wouldn’t shut up about their dark and troubled pasts, or the guys that barely strung two sentences together.

After so many years of working together and trusting one another, Jean-Paul had started to notice what he called ‘the other’. He came out in stressful situations, in dangerous situations, or when he felt Marc was taking bad risks.

Usually ‘the other’ was not around for long. He would handle the situation and Marc would blink back in, quite literally, and be none-the-wiser. He suspected that Marc was not fully aware of ‘the other’ but that Marc was hiding some form of mental problem that possibly explained it.

This was the first time Jean-Paul had actually gotten an up close and personal look at the other man. A very up close look. He flushed deeply and shifted under him.

Jake looked down, suddenly aware of sitting on top of someone. He blinked in confusion for a moment but didn’t move. “Lo siento. Sorry. Just… Give me a moment.” He closed his eyes tightly and appeared to be struggling with something internally.

“Are you leaving so soon?” Jean-Paul reached up and lightly touched the injured shoulder. “Let me take a look at that. You know Marc won’t do shit to tend to it.”

Jake blinked and looked down at him in surprise. “Sure.” He shifted and slowly climbed off him, kneeling in the sand.

Jean-Paul sat up and brushed himself off. “Fucking desert. I miss South America. Never thought I’d be missing that humid jungle, huh?”

“Better food there.” Jake got up and went to his jeep. He started to peel the layers off, tossing his scarf, jacket, and hat into the passenger seat. He pulled his shirt off and set it aside while looking at his arm.

Jean-Paul stared. He had always admired Marc’s body. The lean build, the muscles defined so nicely on his arms. His pecks that made Jean-Paul wonder if he didn’t have mommy issues with how badly he wanted to squeeze them.

What caught him off guard was how differently this person seemed to carry himself. Marc was so compact and tight. He was a bundle of tension that took up a space of his own and radiated deep ‘don’t touch me’ vibes.

This man let those muscles stretch as he slowly rolled his shoulder out, testing the tension. He stood up tall and almost seemed to lengthen the body. He moved with a grace and confidence that Marc lacked.

The vibes were still incredibly deadly and if what Jean-Paul had seen on the battlefield was right, incredibly skilled in more than a few ways in causing death. Yet there was a loneliness there.

“It looks like it isn’t deep.” Jake glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow. “Por favor.” He held up the medical kit and a roll of bandages.

Jean-Paul felt his knees go weak as that look and that phrase bounced around in his head. Por favor…

He licked his lips, suddenly very aware of how dry it was there. “Yeah.” He moved to him and took the kit. “You uh.. Saved his ass back there. Good move.” He carefully applied some antibiotic ointment to the gash and some gauze before he started to wrap it.

Jake only nodded, watching him intently. There was an unspoken question there that was weighing heavily between them.

“You don’t work this closely with a man for this long without noticing the little things. If you miss these things, you can wind up dead, no? So I notice when Marc is not Marc. At first I thought it was a coping thing. I’ve seen a few of those. Go somewhere else so you don’t have to remember the violence. But this is different. I don’t care what this is. I don’t need you to explain it to me. Marc seems to not want to talk about whatever this is… But I hope you know that I see you and you are welcome in my books.” Jean-Paul taped off the bandage then patted it gently into place. He looked up at Jake then ghosted a soft kiss over the wound. “For luck.”

Jake glanced down at the bandage then looked back up into Jean-Paul’s eyes. “I notice the little things too.”

Jean-Paul kept waiting for him to look away. To say something else. To push him away or to get dressed in a hurry. All things he had seen before when he got too close. But this man stared into his soul and didn’t flinch.

“I forget how cold it is in the desert at night.” Jake at last looked away, breathing out slowly. “I don’t think anyone is coming. Not from this direction anyway. We would have seen movement on the dunes by now if they were.”

“Uh huh.” Jean-Paul shook his head and glanced around, anywhere but at the man before him. “Yeah. Do you want to head back to the camp?”

Jake opened the back of the jeep and climbed in, stretching out across the seats. “I think I’ll be fine out here. I prefer the privacy one gets out here.”

Jean-Paul swallowed hard as Jake stared at him from the jeep, a small grin on his face. “I can… I can offer some company. If you like.” He was suddenly nervous. He felt like a boy again back in school when he first looked up in the locker room and realized that perhaps his desires lay here and not in the locker across the hall with the pretty ladies.

Jake’s smirk widened and he slid a leg over, opening up a seat.

Jean-Paul moved so fast that he nearly fell out of the jeep on the first attempt to get in. Once inside, he shut the door and sat back in the seat. The situation got to him and he started to laugh.

“Christ.” He put his face in his hands and felt like crying. “Look at me. So desperate for anything. I follow this man around like a dog, hoping he will notice me. Hoping this Spector sees me as a comrade he can trust. A friend. Maybe more. Now here I am with hopes so high and for what?” He muttered to himself in French, feeling miserable and sorry for himself. “I am sorry, my friend. I don’t even know your name.”

He moved as if to get out of the jeep and a hand caught his elbow. “I see you, Jean-Paul DuChamp.” There was a tug and Jean-Paul was spun around slightly. Lips found his and a hand snaked up into his hair, pulling him closer as the lips explored and a tongue pressed for access.

The taste of old cigarette, stale coffee, and mint gum came to him. His hands explored up and down the bare back, tracing the muscles and feeling how they moved and flexed with each shift of positions.

Jake moved and straddled his waist pushing them back into the seat further and making the jeep creak under them.

Jean-Paul pulled back, catching his breath as he gazed up at the man on him. His heart pounded as this man stared back at him with such intensity and focus. This was not a man used to doing things half-assed.

“Wait… Mon ami…” He was flushed and glad it was too dark for this man to see the redness that was surely spreading across his face. “You are not Marc. How can I have this body if I don’t even know who is inside?” He reached up and hesitantly slid a hand across the bare chest before him.

It was everything he thought it would be. Firm and soft all at once as he traced a peck and ghosted a thumb over a pert nipple.

Jake closed his eyes and parted his lips, letting out a soft shuddering sigh that made Jean-Pau deeply regret stopping.

Jake arched his back and pulled Jean-Paul’s head in, letting it rest against his chest. “Amigo… You can call me Jake. If you breathe a word of me to Marc then you will never see us again. Right now, this body is mine to do with as I please and what I please is you.”

Jake shifted and Jean-Paul felt something large and firm press to his stomach. Glancing down he realized it was Jake’s erection straining against the tight jeans that Marc loved to wear.

A string of french dirty enough to make a saint weep left his mouth as he buried his face back into the chest until his chapped lips found a nipple and sucked.

The sounds Jake made with each suck caused his own erection to grow and twitch in desperate need. It had been far too long traveling in such tight company. Sweet release only came in wet dreams and hurried sessions out behind the hole in the ground they called a shitter.

This was hardly a romantic setting or ideal ‘bed’ to maneuver around on, but the sound of a zipper being undone was an angelic chorus in itself.

Jake shifted and groaned in relief as he freed his dick. “Mierde. Marc needs to stop wearing such tight pants… Ah…” He shifted again and Jean-Paul felt the weight of his dick against his stomach.

“Oh sweet angels in heaven.” He looked down and stared at the pulsing monster between them. “Jake…” He tried the name softly. “I am going to worship this body now and you can believe that I will never breathe a word of this to Marc in my life… this has got to be a dream.”

He didn’t wait for Jake to respond. Cursing the confines of the jeep, he shoved Jake back into the seats and sank down between his legs. He pulled till the jeans and boxers were down fully then struggled till they were off and clear, tossed aside carelessly. He took a moment to admire the naked adonis before him.

“Where to start…” Jean-Paul laughed breathily.

Jake looked up at him with that same knowing grin as before. It occurred to him that perhaps Jake had been watching him all these years. Somewhere behind Marc’s eyes this man before him had been watching him and waiting.

Jake reached down and gripped his dick, giving it a few strokes for good measure and arching his hips up. “Not exactly swimming in the lube here or condoms. I think our options are a little limited.”

Jean-Paul gave a breathy laugh and shivered. “There is no way in hell I’m taking that up my ass without some vigorous stretching first.” He reached out and dared to slide his fingers across the tip, making Jake hiss and jerk his hips.

Jean-Paul flushed and sank down, daring to brush his lips where his fingers had just been. He was rewarded with another breathy gasp and twitch of the hips. He exhaled across the tip and slowly slid his tongue around the head before wrapping his lips around and giving a hard suck.

Hands slid through his hair and gripped, urging him on, then loosened and stroked gently, trembling in need. The spanish that followed as Jean-Paul sank lower and pushed to take his whole dick in was enough to make him groan around the girth pushing into his throat.

He bobbed, slowly working his tongue down the underside of the length and daring to take him in up to the base then pulling back out to the tip again. A hand moved up and cupped Jake’s balls, slowly rolling them and massaging them with each stroke of his lips. His other hand slid down to his own groin and fumbled with the zipper and button.

“Ah… Corazon.” Jake groaned and pulled him off after a moment. “Strip. I want you on your hands and knees.”

Jean-Paul never stripped so fast in his life, only slowing down as he sat back and struggled to get his shoes off so his pants could follow.

Jake watched him like a cat, waiting patiently and looking over every part of him. He waited as Jean-Paul rolled over to his hands and knees, looking down at his own erection that was already wet with pre-cum across the tip.

“Press your thighs together.” Jake moved behind him, hunching down to avoid hitting the ceiling in the small space. He leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I want to fuck you someday, but this will have to do for now.”

Jean-Paul shivered and squeezed his thighs together as tightly as he could. He felt the push and watched as Jake’s dick slipped between his thighs to nudge and slide against his balls. “Oh god.” Was all he could say as he felt Jake’s hips smack into his backside.

He could imagine that dick pushing into him, stretching him open further than he’d ever gone before. The pain and then the pleasure of being filled. Of how it would have found his prostate so easily and just about destroyed him.

Jake reached down and slowly wrapped his fingers around Jean-Paul’s dick and started to stroke, matching the pace of his own thrusts that moved them forward roughly.

He knew right away he wouldn’t last long. The jeep rocked with each forceful shove forward, making Jean-Paul groan as he too bucked into the hand gripping him.

He came hard, arching back into Jake and letting out a string of curses in any language he knew.

Jake gripped his hip tightly and bucked hard, shooting his load down the front of Jean-Paul heavily.

Jean-Paul half collapsed, burying his face in his arms, panting as he felt Jake lay across his back fully. He felt the thick cock slip from between his thighs and Jake slowly pull away.

“Fuck.” Jean-Paul rolled over and slowly sat up in the seat. “Jake… Please tell me this was not a one off. I don’t think I can stand knowing I could never touch you again.”

Jake sat back in the seat next to him. He looked Jean-Paul over and moved to grab a stash of tissues from behind the seat, holding them out to let him clean up.

It was easy to see that Jake was thinking. He looked like he was always thinking and analyzing everything.

At last Jake started to pull his clothes on. “If we meet again. It might be nice to… talk.”

“If we meet again?” Jean-Paul sighed and cleaned up then moved to get dressed. “I know a dismissal when I hear one.”

Jake reached out and grabbed his arm. “Amigo. I do not take time from Marc. Marc has enough trouble with… Other things. When I am here, I am here. If we are together and not fighting for our lives… Perhaps someone else saying my name for a change might be nice.”

Jean-Paul smiled. “I can live with that. I hope we meet many times.” He grinned and leaned in to steal a kiss before slipping out of the jeep. “Perhaps Marc will come around too.”

Jake frowned. “Doubtful. He is…” He didn’t want to say it.

“An idiot.” Jean-Paul sighed deeply. “I know. And I am a hopeless romantic who is willing to wait forever for what will never be.”

Jake shrugged and grinned, moving shut the door. “Good night, Jean-Paul.”

“Good night, Jake.” Jean-Paul watched as Jake’s body flinched and then stretched and changed posture. He would know those square shoulders anywhere. “Good night, Marc…” He sighed and headed back to the camp.

–

It was only two weeks before Jean-Paul saw Jake again. Fleeting, though it was.

Marc always took the lead when running into battle. It was something the whole team had come to rely on. The man acted as if he were invulnerable and he was good at what he did.

Only Jean-Paul saw the flinch as someone ambushed him and engaged in a quick up close attack. The knife came out and there was a flash of blood. The assailant went down and Jake looked up at him, panting and wild as if looking for the next fight. Their eyes locked and Jake smirked and gave a wink before Marc’s brows furrowed and he looked down at the would-be attacker. He put the knife away and continued on.

It happened many times over the course of that mission. It was a mediocre job full of bad intel and worse assignments, but it paid well and at the end, they were happy enough to collect and get out.

When night fell, Jean-Paul lay in his tent thinking about how he would spend his money. There was talk of heading to Morocco and that meant fancy food, drugs, and paying too much for a pretty face to follow you to bed. It was the usual life for men that had nothing left but time and money.

He heard a rustle at his tent door and sat up quickly. It was uncommon to have anyone visit him in his tent, let alone in the middle of the night.

He blinked as a familiar form stepped in and took a casual stance, hands in pockets and head cocked to one side.

“Jake? What happened? Is everything alright?” Jean-Paul moved to get up, looking for his gun holster.

A hand went out and caught him, holding him steady. “Everything is fine. Marc had a… A bad dream. If we try to sleep now, it will just be a night of stress. I saw your light was still on so…” He waved a hand as if the implication was obvious.

Jean-Paul sat back down and sighed in relief. “Is that what you do? Take over when he’s in danger and having nightmares? Not much of a life, huh?”

Jake considered as he glanced around the tent, seeing what sorts of things Jean-Paul considered important enough to keep. “I take over when the stress is too real.”

“I wish I had something like that.” Jean-Paul sighed and slouched back on his cot. “What horrors does one have to go through to get someone certified enough to handle this shit?”

Jake gave a small laugh that was filled with bitterness. “Childhood ones. Not this shit. This shit gives you other problems.”

Jean-Paul nodded. His childhood horrors had turned him into a mercenary for hire. “Is this shit what gives him the nightmares? Sometimes we hear him screaming at night. Sometimes we all scream at night, honestly…” The song of the soldier. They all learned to ignore the shrieks and cries that came from the tent nextdoor.

Jake frowned and slowly walked around the small space, glancing at the folding table with journals and maps on it. His eyes flitted over pictures of various people that once mattered and a few current ones of the people that had fought at his side.

“No. The nightmares are what followed from a previous life. This shit just reminds us why we’re out here.” He leaned back against the table. “I hear we’re going to Morocco. Marc is going to get drunk and spend the next few days in a stupor. What are your plans, DuChamp?”

Jean-Paul mulled it over. “I had planned on getting drunk with him the first night. After that… I know an opium den that usually welcomes me in with open arms.”

“Hmm. Things Marc doesn’t need.” Jake sighed. “I was hoping that perhaps you had other inclinations… Perhaps visiting the hotel room of a man in need of a good proper fucking.”

Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow and swallowed. “Will you be available in Morocco?”

Jake laughed. “If Marc had his way he would drink himself into the ground. I give him one night and then take the rest away before he throws himself off a building or…worse.”

Jean-Paul thought about all the other times they had gone out to blow through their money. How Marc would disappear after a day or two and return looking pissed and with no memory of the rest of their excursions. He had thought it was from being blackout drunk.

He looked up at Jake fully. The more he learned the more he needed to know about this mysterious man. The more he wanted to be the one letting him work out his stressful life.

“I’ve got some time on my hands now… You know, if your dick is feeling a little….dry.” He licked his lips and shifted on the cot.

Jake shifted and smiled. He slowly undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. “Tonight your mouth is mine. Tomorrow I own your ass.”

“Merde…” He was on his knees faster than a catholic in church. “God, Jake… You are going to split me in half…” He crawled to him and slowly slid his fingers over his dick, coaxing it into full hardness.

Jake only grunted as Jean-Paul placed a wet kiss on the tip and a sharp suck that made him hiss in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“DuChamp…” A warning slipped out with a hiss. “Ah… No marks. Save those for later. I can’t…”

Jean-Paul laughed and turned his kisses into delicat licks. He loved the idea of Marc getting up in the morning for his first piss and wondering why he had a fat hickey across his dick. A secret marker to claim the body as his own.

He wanted this body. He wanted to lick every part of it. To know the taste of him.

He kissed his balls gently then sucked each one in, rolling them over his tongue before moving lower.

Jake’s breathing hitched as he spread his legs. As powerful and controlling as he seemed, Jean-Paul wondered just how experienced this man was.

His tongue found Jake’s puckered ass easily and probed, slicking it up and slowly pressing past the delicate tight ring of muscles he found there. “God you’re so tight…”

A whimper escaped Jake’s lips and control was quickly leaving him as he gripped Jean-Paul’s hair, pulling and digging in tightly. “Ah… Oh god…”

“I think your ass is mine tonight.” Jean-Paul smirked and pushed his tongue inside, running it around the muscles that clenched and trembled there. He could leave marks here, he thought with a grin. Pulling back he slipped down and sucked the back of a thigh sharply and bit down.

“Ah!” Jake’s body jerked and he looked down at Jean-Paul with wide eyes. “Hijo de puta. You want to play rough? You think you can own this body?”

Jean-Paul smirked up at him. “I think I know what I’m doing and you’re here for the ride.” He swept Jake’s feet out from under him and maneuvered him till he was on his hands and knees.

Quickly shifting to get behind him before Jake could protest, he spread his ass and dove in, licking and sucking at the tender flesh there with renewed vigor.

The string of spanish that filled the small area was likely to be heard in the next tent over.

Jake’s hips jerked and Jean-Paul was pleased to see the fat cock hanging down twitch and start to drip precum heavily. He reached down and collected the fluid, letting it slide over his fingers.

“Relax, mon ami.” He pressed a finger to Jake’s entrance and slowly wiggled it and slipped it inside. He could feel how tense he was, clenching and pushing against his finger desperately. It was nothing compared to the panting whimpers that started to come from the man’s lips.

“Never been penetrated before, hm?” Jean-Paul groaned. “Did I just take your virginity?” He pushed the finger in deeper and slowly moved it around, exploring him. “I wonder if I can make you cum from just this… You are so sensitive… Are you close?”

He curled his finger as Jake started to groan. “Fuck… Fuck fuck fuck!” His hips jerked and it was more than clear that he was trying to stay in control of the situation.

Jean-Paul moved to lay on his back, sliding down between Jake’s legs so he could watch that big beautiful dick twitch and bob above him. He kept his finger wiggling inside him, sliding in and out slowly and stretching him. “Cum for me. Cum for me, Jake. I want to see you cum.”

His finger pushed deeper and curled, searching…searching… “There.” Jean-Paul found his prostate and stroked across it hard.

The sounds that Jake made would haunt every wet dream Jean-Paul would ever have again. He pushed again and again, stroking and nudging the ball of nerves until Jake’s hips bucked hard, his dick jerking as it started to shoot out thick ropes of cum.

Jean-Paul gripped his dick with his free hand and was instantly on him, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking out the fluid, swallowing each load down eager.

Jake thrashed as his prostate was probed, forcing his orgasm to stretch out as he shot out more than he ever had before. His arms trembled as he struggled to stay upright. “Mierde… Ah… ah!” He rolled, the finger at last leaving him but his dick did not escape the starved mouth.

Jean-Paul rolled with him, now on top and between his legs as he sucked his dick in to the back of his throat easily. It had been too long since he had tested his gag reflex and he was pleased with just how full Jake filled him. He felt the head nudge the back of his throat and he swallowed, humming around him deeply.

Fingers dug into his shoulders, leaving deep marks that he would cherish. Hips arched, fucking into his mouth wantonly, pushing deeper and nearly suffocating him with each thrust.

Hands moved down to his own zipper eagerly pulling his dick out as he sucked. His hands were shaky as he stroked, he could feel Jake working up to another orgasm.

Jake arched his whole body, drawing blood with his fingernails as he shoved his dick to the back of Jean-Paul’s throat and came. He could feel the throat muscles working as the man sucked him down, desperate not to lose a single drop.

Jean-Paul groaned as the dick in his mouth stopped twitching. He slowly released it, pleased at the angry red color of his swollen head. Moving up, he straddled Jake’s mid section and let his own dick slap down on the well defined chest there.

“Oh god…Jake…” He gripped handfuls of Jake’s pecks and started to squeeze, pinching the nipples and pushing them together. “Such a dirty body… Begging for me… Begging to be fucked… Ah… Ah!” He came hard, letting his cum splatter across Jake’s chest.

Both collapsed, panting and trembling together. Slowly, Jean-Paul rolled off him and lay next to him on the floor. “Christ… I think I blacked out there.”

“DuChamp…” Jake groaned and glanced down at his chest, taking in the mess. “I think if this had been Marc I would have been triggered out about halfway into that. Been thinking about doing this long?”

“Since I first laid eyes on that body of yours.” Jean-Paul laughed. “You have spectacular tits… and that ass… Oh fuck.” He looked over at him with a smile. “Was it too much?”

Jake sat up slightly and groaned as his dick flopped to the side, still partly hard. “I’m starting to worry about Morocco. Maybe I will let Marc go on a bender.”

Jean-Paul pushed him back down and moved to slowly lick his own cum off that beautiful chest. “Mnh. You know you want to fuck me.” He smirked as he licked over a nipple slowly. “I bet you’ve never had an ass before. You’ll never want anything else again. I’m going to let you pound me so fucking hard.”

Jake groaned and shoved him away. “I’m not letting that mouth of yours near me again for a while. Marc’s going to wake up sore tomorrow and you are going to have to be the one to explain it to him.”

Jake slowly got up and grabbed his clothes in a bundle. “Good night, Jean-Paul.” He smirked as he left the tent.

Jean-Paul laughed and lay back. “Good night, Jake.”

True to his nature, Marc drank enough to kill a man. He staggered around the bar until Jean-Paul sipped the empty bottle from his fingers and escorted him back to his hotel room.

“Christ, Marc.” Jean-Paul glanced around the room. There was overturned furniture and all reflective surfaces were covered by curtains and bed sheets. He looked down at the man passed out in the bed and sighed. “What is your pain? What hurts you so much that you become two?”

Jean-Paul took a seat, watching to make sure his friend did not suffocate on his own vomit in the night. So much for his plans at the opium den. His own pain was a dull ache that would have to be worked out later.

When consciousness returned, he helped Marc to the bathroom and held him up while his body rejected the poison inside. Expensive bottled water was drained, but they could afford it for now. Aspirin was taken and a shower was had, Jean-Paul respectfully helping his friend up so he wouldn’t slip and fall as he leaned against the wall in the too hot water.

When Marc was finally able to stand on his own, a towel wrapped around his waist, he blinked as if finally seeing Jean-Paul for the first time.

“Fuck. Frenchie? How much is left? I think I can get some of that expensive shit. Bartender wouldn’t crack it open for me yesterday. Bastard’s gonna open it today. Buy the whole fucking bottle.” Marc took a staggering step towards what was left of the mini bar then stopped.

His hand fell to his side and the glass fell to the floor, rolling away. “Hijo de puta. Mierde. Feels like a puta took up residence in my head.” Jake glanced around the room and groaned. “What day is it?”

Jean-Paul sighed and moved to pick up the glass. “Wednesday. We’ve been here three days. He hasn’t had anything today but I’m afraid the past two days were uh… I don’t remember the first day.”

Jake gave him a look and moved to curl up on the bed. “Asprin?”

“Just took it.”

“I want the bottle. Put me out of my misery.” Jake groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. “Just take me out back and put two in me. It’s gotta be better than this.”

Jean-Paul sat next to him and held out an ice pack. “So you feel what he does?”

“It’s the same goddamned body. Of course I feel what he does. Aye pendejo!” He snatched the ice bag and rolled over, letting it sit on his forehead. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be getting high or some shit?”

Jean-Paul sighed and lay back next to him. “You know, Marc is my friend. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Not just here waiting for a fuck?” Jake glanced at him. “I’m not fucking anything right now. You can go do what you want.”

Jean-Paul stared at the ceiling for a bit. He remembered the first time he had found Marc passed out in his hotel room, face down in vomit with a bottle of cheap whisky in his hands. He remembered the first time he had spent a night sobbing into Marc’s arms, he himself utterly blitzed out on some bad shit he had gotten from a shady man in an alley. He remembered having Marc’s back and feeling confident that Marc had his after their first few missions together.

How they had silently promised to always work together. To maybe one day retire if they lived that long. To buy mansions and try to find peace.

“I think I’ll stay.” He grabbed the side phone and ordered a meal heavy in grease and bread. “My treat.”

Jake only groaned and rolled over.

When the food came, he filled a plate and set it down in Jake’s lap. “Eat. I don’t know when he ate last.”

Jake glared at him, not used to being cared for. He took a bite and sighed as his body slowly stopped clenching up. The bite was soon a ravenous intake as he realized he didn’t know when Marc last ate anything solid either.

He managed to slow down as he was handed seconds. “What am I to you?” Jake chewed some flat bread slowly. “Just a way to fuck Marc? A way to have his body without having to confess how you feel to him?”

Jean-Paul stared down at his own plate and pushed around some heavily spiced meat for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what you are, honestly. I’ve seen stranger things. The broken men I come across in this work… Some with god complexes and others with lord knows what sort of mental illness that keeps them away from the regular people. I once met a man that insisted I call him Prince Dafrekie. He was a white kid from New Jersey, thought he was an alien sent to earth to free us from the oppression of the sun.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “What happened to him?”

“Took a knife to the throat.” He stared off at the far wall, suddenly not hungry anymore. “He spoke beautiful French. Learned it in high school. Did he really believe he was an alien? I don’t know. Maybe it helped him get through the day. He liked to read poetry to us at dinner time. None of us ever complained. We sat there and listened…”

Jake sipped his water then set his plate aside. “Marc had a brother. Then he didn’t. He was young and Marc was supposed to take care of him. The water rose and only Marc came up with it.”

“Is that why…?” Jean-Paul gestured vaguely to Jake.

“No.” Jake pointed to the mini bar. “It caused that.”

“So what made you?” Jean-Paul moved to clean up the remaining food.

Jake watched him for a moment, considering. At last he shifted and pointed to an old faded scar running down Marc’s side. “Maybe the picture frame that landed on us when we hit the wall.” He pointed to another scar at his temple. “Or the glass that hit our head when we made too much noise.” He pointed to a small white mark under his left eye. “Or the belt buckle that went wide when we flinched.”

“Deadbeat father.” Jean-Paul nodded.

“A mother that didn’t know how to handle the loss of her favorite son.” Jake sat back again.

“Maybe not much. Maybe not as bad as some have it… But he was young. It was how we coped. Now I’m here taking his shitty hangovers while he tries to kill himself slowly in misery.” Jake angrily tossed the ice pack across the room.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jean-Paul shrugged. “Maybe I’m using you to get at the body. Maybe I’m pretending you’re Marc. I don’t know what goes on in my own fucked up brain… But I like you. A little something that I can hold onto. Like I know the cheat codes.”

Jake glanced at him for a moment then laughed. “I forget sometimes… You have to be pretty fucked up to work in this line of business.” He held out an arm and pulled Jean-Paul down to lay next to him. “Help me sleep this thing off. Right now I’m pretty much in agreement with the whole oppressive sun shit.”

“What if Marc wakes up?” Jean-Paul slowly relaxed into his side.

“Tell him he got drunk and fucked your brains out. Maybe he’ll stop drinking.” Jake closed his eyes and relaxed.

“If only…” Jean-Paul sighed and rested his head on Jake’s shoulder, smiling to himself as he breathed in the scent next to him.

–

He had fucked up dreams. Dreams of fucked up images filled with blood and gunfire. When he woke, it was getting darker outside and Jake was still asleep beside him.

Or perhaps Marc. Could he tell the difference? He sat up and stared down at the man next to him.

A glance down and he realized the body was naked, the towel long gone and the blankets kicked off. Not just that, but the naked body with a raging hardon.

Jean-Paul lay back down for a moment, hands clasped tightly over his chest. “Mon dieu.”

If it was Jake, he would slip down and lovingly take that offering into his mouth and give him a fantastic wakeup call.

If it was Marc…

He sat up again and stared. Was there a way to tell? Did he take the risk? Maybe he could pretend to be drunk or high. It wasn’t the first time Marc would have seen him at his worst.

But then there was the matter of consent.

“Fuck.” Jean-Paul lay back down and buried his face in the pillow. “This is why you are like this. You no good piece of shit. Horny as hell. Always have been. Get a fucking hold of yourself!”

The body next to him shifted and an arm and leg draped over him.

Jean-Paul froze. “Merde.” His heart missed more than a few beats as he felt hips slide against his side. “Merde…” The hips pressed and he felt that thick dick push against his hip.

“I am not a strong man, don't test me like this…” He trembled as the hips next to him moved again in slow dreamlike motions. “Oh god. Oh god.” He moved to sit up but found himself entangled in limbs. He was just going to have to ride this out.

HIs heart pounded as he looked down and watched that throbbing member slide against him. “Jake…” his voice trembled as he tried to wake him up. “Hey…Jake?”

“Mnh.” The body next to him moaned and ground his hips against him harder, seeking more friction.

Jean-Paul groaned and reached down, letting his fingers ghost across the throbbing cock. “Oh come on… Wake up already… Please…” He rolled as much as he could and turned away.

The position was too familiar as he felt hips push against his backside fully now and that cock slid down his ass and between his thighs. “Oh god!”

He sat up and fell out of bed.

He could hear shuffling in the bed above him and a tired blinking face peered down at him. “The fuck?” Jake glanced around then sat up. “Was having the most wonderful dream…”

“Yeah. I gathered.” Jean-Paul slowly got up. “You are going to give me a heart attack. How am I supposed to respond to that!” He looked down at the still hard dick that now lay against Jake’s stomach.

“Well you could be polite about it and help a guy out.” Jake shrugged and reached down to lazily stroke his dick, in no hurry to get himself off.

Jean-Paul groaned and watched the hand work. “Consent, asshole. I’m a gentleman when I want to be.”

Jake smirked. “I consent. I think I was promised one ass in Morocco.”

All english left him as he looked around the room, hoping against hope that Marc had thought ahead for any chance of having sex.

Jake watched him, still lazily stroking his dick. “Bag. By the door. Outer pocket.”

Jean-Paul stumbled and dove for the bag, practically ripping into it. Condoms. Lube. Check.

He tossed them to Jake and immediately started to strip. “You’ve never done this before. If you fucking tear me…”

“I’m going to guess you aren’t as much a tight ass as I am.” Jake smirked. “Been practicing?”

Jean-Paul smirked. “All my life.” He watched Jake roll the condom down over himself and groan.

“Fuck. Get over here.” He got up off the bed and waited for Jean-Paul to crawl onto the bed, presenting his ass up for him.

To his relief, he felt Jake slide the lube over his waiting entrance then start to slide a finger into him. A fat thick finger that curled and moved curiously.

“Yes…” Jean-Paul forced himself to relax and pushed back on the finger. “Go ahead. More.”

“So impatient.” Jake leaned over him and kissed his spine lightly. A second finger slid inside and started to scissor, spreading him and stretching slowly. “Oh.. You are ready, aren’t you?”

“One more.” Jean-Paul whimpered. “Just one more…”

Jake laughed and pulled his fingers out then slowly pushed in three, testing his ring of muscles and stretching him more than he had in ages.

The fingers pulled out and he felt Jake move behind him and slide his dick across his ass slowly. “Oh yes… yes… Jake…”

“Say my name again.” Jake groaned and pushed the head to his entrance. “You aren’t fucking Marc here. Remember that.”

“Jake… Fuck me Jake.” He gasped. “I want you to fuck me, Jake.”

Jake’s hips hitched and slowly pushed the fat head into him with a pop then held still. “Yes… Again. Louder.”

“Jake!” Jean-Paul moaned. He could feel the thick girth waiting to stretch him. His hips trembled as he waited for that delicious push and stretch he knew was coming. “Jake fuck me goddamn it!”

Hips were slammed together and Jean-Paul saw stars as Jake pushed into him all at once to the base. He was pretty sure if Jake had asked, he would have spoken in Spanish for the rest of his life just to beg him to keep going.

Luckily he didn’t have to beg as Jake gave a shuddering groan and started to move. He pulled out to the tip then pushed back in, testing the feel and deciding how he liked it. He pushed in and held it then pulled out to the head and waited. “Damn… Fucking damn….” He seemed to have short circuited as he felt Jean-Paul clench around him. “Mierde!”

“Fuck me.” Jean-Paul looked back at him. “Do it, Jake. I want to feel you inside me. I want to feel you fuck me into the ground like I know you can.”

Jake gave him a flushed smile and gripped his hips, holding him steady. “DuChamp, shut up and moan.”

He slid into him, slowly picking up the pace, occasionally changing angles to see which agreed with him more. When he angled down and hit Jean-Paul’s prostate he gave a wild laugh and let loose, bucking into him like his life depended on it.

All language left him as Jean-Paul clutched at the bed sheets. He could only groan and babble incoherently with each inward thrust that rubbed against his prostate roughly.

He felt his own orgasm build and gasped as his dick splattered his cum over himself. Still, Jake did not stop, grunting and rutting into him like a beast.

He reached his second orgasm and screamed out, thrashing on Jake’s fat cock each time he felt the pull and push against his sensitive muscles. “Jake! Jake! Oh god!”

He felt Jake’s hips hitch and jerk then the feel of his dick twitching and pulsing inside. Mercifully, Jake slowly pulled out of him and flipped him over.

Jean-Paul lay back, staring up at Jake with wide eyes. “Adonis…”

Jake was still fully hard, the condom full of his cum. “I’m not done with you, DuChamp.”

He slid his condom off and smirked. “Fuck me.”

Despite coming twice, his dick practically jumped to full attention at the command.

“Are you sure? It’s going to be different than a finger and Marc might notice if he can’t sit for a week…” He had no idea why he was protesting.

Jake laughed and bent over the bed, spreading his legs. “Payback for the hangover. Besides, it’s my body too.” He smacked his own ass and looked up at him. “Fuck me.”

Jean-Paul pulled out another condom and slipped it on quickly. He leaned over Jake, stroking his hands over his ass and hips lovingly. “Amazing. I don’t know which of you worked hard to get this perfect ass, but I applaud you.”

“That would be Marc.” Jake laughed softly. “Who needs emotions when you can just do a million squats every day.”

“Emotions are overrated. Ass is all you need.” Jean-Paul gave a slow lick over his entrance then pulled out the lube and applied a generous amount. “Relax.” He slid a finger in and gently worked around the rim.

Jake’s back arched and he clenched tightly then slowly forced himself to relax. “Another… I’ve got this.”

Jean-Paul laughed and kissed his bottom gently. “You have amazing control of your body.” He slipped a second finger in and slowly spread them, stretching and pushing.

Jake gritted his teeth and started to breathe heavily. “I’ve had to. Keep going. Ah… I think I got this now. Just…Just gotta relax…”

Jean-Paul made sure to slick up his dick heavily. He lacked the sheer girth that Jake had, but he was in no way short.

He positioned himself and started to push, keeping a steady pressure until he popped through and held.

Jake dug his fists into the bed and groaned, his arms trembling as he put all his effort into relaxing. Jean-Paul held still, waiting till his muscles stopped clenching down so tightly, no matter how good it felt.

Finally he felt Jake’s body relax. He pushed and slid in easily.

Jake cried out and groaned as his nerves lit up all at once. “Oh holy shit… That feels… Oh god!” He squirmed and rocked his hips back to meet him. “Do that again.”

Jean-Paul smirked. “Someone’s a little sensitive.” He slowly pulled out to the head, not wanting to force him just yet, then pushed back in.

Jake’s ass swayed and he squirmed, slowly lowering his face to rest against the pillows as he lifted his ass up. “More… Nnh… Harder.”

The pace picked up, keeping long strokes each time as he felt the muscles flutter and squeeze around him. He wasn’t going to last.

From the sounds Jake was making, he wasn’t going to last either. A hand snaked around and gripped his dick tightly, stroking with every thrust.

The room was filled with panting and groans as their hips slapped together, harder and harder until Jake’s hips bucked and he came hard.

Jean-Paul wasn’t far behind as he buried himself deep inside and released.

They both collapsed forward, completely spent. It was a struggle to move enough to pull out of him and get the condom off.

Jake found his towel from before and used it to try to clean up a little then just rolled over. “Marc isn’t getting his deposit back.”

“Does he ever?” Jean-Paul nuzzled in,

“Sometimes.” Jake mumbled. “If I’m in charge.”

“Not this time.” Jean-Paul laughed. “I think you might be an ass man.”

Jake groaned. “And what does that make you?”

“I’m still all about those tits.” He rolled over and nuzzled his face into Jake’s chest.

To his surprise, Jake didn’t push him away. He simply wrapped his arms around him and held him, moving a hand to stroke his hair.

They lay together in silence for a while then Jake sighed. “You know this can’t last, right?”

Jean-Paul thought about it for a moment. “I think I knew that coming into it. It’s the nature of our work…Of our life. If we don’t die, we eventually move on. Follow some other self-destructive path or if we get lucky, we hit a big job and disperse with all the gold and riches we dreamed of…”

“I hope you find someone that isn’t broken, Jean-Paul…” Jake looked up at the ceiling, stroking his hair gently. “I hope you get out and do whatever makes you happy with someone that has great tits for you to cum all over.”

He laughed and looked up at Jake. “I hope you find happiness, Jake. Someday when you don’t have to hide or worry about Marc swallowing his misery into an early grave. I hope Marc can sit on a beach somewhere peaceful and let you watch a beautiful ass swim in the waves.”

“Till then, I don’t mind this.” Jake gave a light hearted smack on Jean-Paul’s backside. “Marc will always be an idiota that needs saving. I’ll see you here and there…”

Jean-Paul nuzzled his chest and wrapped his arms around him. “There’s always the next payday…”

Jake searched inside for a moment. “We still have this payday. Marc’s going to be out for a while and I’ve only just learned how good it feels to be properly fucked.”

Jean-Paul laughed and shoved him away. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Mnh. You corrupted me with that amazing mouth of yours.” He leaned in and kissed him deeply. It was slow and intimate, the immediate fire had burned down. In this moment he could feel all the insecurities, fears, and needs of a man that did not get enough time being alive.

“Jake…” He whispered against his lips. “Mon amour.”

“Te quiero....Te amo…” He whispered back, feeling at peace for just this little while.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight fic #Moon Knight smut #Jake Lockley #Jean-Paul Duchamp #Frenchie #Male x Male smut #Moon Knight comics fic #Jake x Frenchie #They fuck #They also cuddle

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missouki · 27 days

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𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓶𝓪𝓷

nsfw : save the cow or milk the milkman? Doppelganger or not, you still choose to milk him.

a/n : decided to make a nsfw fanfiction for the milkman, i feel like edging everytime i see a fan art/edit of him.

Blood that had dried up on his clothes that were now on the floor and his milkman hat on top of your head. He groans as he lays his head back, you wrap your hands around his neck as you bounce. You were practically milking the milkman, you let him suck your tits as you make an orgasm and paint your walls white.

His cock was coated in white cream, he stares at your bouncy breast while his hands focuses on rubbing the bulging point in your stomach. Your velvet walls were sore from all the friction, the milkman feels you slowly closing your leg. His veiny hands grab your thighs in an attempt to prevent them from closing, "You will keep up with me and stop when I want to.."

Your nails dig through his back to scratch it as your legs wrapped itself around his waist. Your back makes contact with the cold wall, the milkman gropes your ass cheeks as he lets his cock travel deeper inside you with each thrust. You can feel a flood of cum slipping out of your hole and falling down the floor, his thighs were messy with white cream and your cunt was clenching everytime his dick moves in and out.

You lay flat on the floor with your bare pussy, the milkman bends you over and pulls your body closer to him. He inserts a finger inside your pussy "It's still wet, let's continue~?" He says inserting another finger to feel your slimy walls. You roll your eyes back, if he lets his long veiny fingers travel deeper, he could already reach that g-spot. He pulls it out as he spreads your folds and pushes his cock inside you, this doggy position has you going feral. His dick was hitting it and you could already feel yourself making an orgasm again.

The milkman was surely enjoying himself. Watching you bounce his cock, spreading your legs for him, and your bouncy breast that tempts him. You were already on the verge of crying from pleasure, he holds your legs up as he lets his hip do the job for you. Each thrust has you whining and milking on his cock, your soft pussy was blushing and making squelching sounds everytime he rams it inside fully. The milkman will come back again for delivery tomorrow~

#francis mosses #milkman #milkman x reader #that's not my neighbor #male insert #male x reader #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #tnmn

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v1x3n · 1 month

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mellowwillowy · 7 months

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A Husband Duty (GN, NSFW)

Instead of another normal love making session, you ask him to do more to you (FIC, junkie reader, IMG., more in Husband...)

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Husband who just loves you so much that it turns into another worshipping session instead of fucking you raw without any condom on.

Yan! Husband who just eats you out / gives you head nonstop until you are overstimulated, the whole bed is wet with your cum and drool, his boxer drenched in cum as he ruts himself against the bed sheet.

Yan! Husband whose fingers teased the insides of your clenching hole, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and eyes roll to the back. Yes, just loll out your tongue and he'll take it for granted with his mouth, sucking and licking it while he relishes in the way you whine.

Yan! Husband who will actually cum undone just from lapping up your sweet nectar, drinking it all like a thirsty man who is lost in the Sahara desert.

Yan! Husband who refuses any of your attempts in giving him head, nuh-uh, he wants to focus on you and you only. He is already wetting his boxer with his cum, what more do you want? Splatter it all over your face and hair? He'd be so fine with just your hole ♡

Yan! Husband whose cock twitches so much when it is only the tip that enters you, imagine the whole thing filling you full and deep, he is already shaking from the ejaculation, cumming deep inside you. Do you think he is done as a '5 second, take it or leave it?'

Yan! Husband who has a questionable way of ejaculating but his stamina is not to be doubted. He will pound himself deep into you while his sperm paints your insides white. Every time he pulls out, the cum would immediately pool out from your hole only to be refilled with another. (Honestly, as expected from someone inhumane)

Yan! Husband who will not stop kissing you, be it your face, lip, body, or anything as long as it's you. Can you imagine the amount of hickeys you'll be waking up to? These will surely show the servants and others just how cherished you are in his hand.

Yan! Husband who will coax more of your sweet moans, pushing your limit further with every session you have with him, yes, he will fuck you till the sun rises if you can accommodate to him. The idea of it makes his cock twitches again, he needs to be clamped tight by you.

Yan! Husband who will not stop abusing your sex, pleasuring you with his fingers as he gives you a second stimulation while he is still hammering his cock into you.

"W-why, why do you have so much c-cum, in you-!?"

"I don't know dear, maybe it's because of you. You are driving me nuts every day!"

Yulian is such a healthy man ^^ how much litter does he have left to fill you up? Ah, the bulge... it's so arousing to see your stomach bulging with his cock and cum.

Yan! Husband, the King of Aftercare, bathing you with the finest body care, roses floating while his face nuzzled up in your neck. Please, don't do anything you will regret, you don't want him to hammer his cock into you again, the whole bathtub might be his cum instead!

Yan! Husband who kisses you to sleep, letting you rest after hours of fucking you dumb. It seems like the euphoria is gone and he has regained his sanity, evident from how he's thinking how to cover all these hickeys and bite marks.

Yan! Husband who presses his lip to all those marks, kissing it better while occasionally licking some.

Maybe he shouldn't help you cover it after all.

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youronlydarlin · 3 months

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Just Loser! Simon who's unknowingly a sex god

He says shit like "Did that feel good..?" everytime you two fuck. As if he didn't just give you the most back arching, toe curling, brain numbing orgasm of your life.

You'd be panting like a dog beneath him, eyes rolled to the back of your skull and still he'd be asking "How's that feel..?" Like sir. This isn't UberEATS, why do you keep asking that? Do you want five stars??

#cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader smut #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

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tyunniez · 6 months

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look at yourself, pretty... bottom male reader

!!.. amab reader, reader wears makeup, reader has a high ego, his bestfriend knocks that ego down lol, mirror sex, top likes to tease...

you stared at yourself in front of the mirror for the hundredth time today, admiring yourself and your choice of outfit for the day.

you twirled around a little checking how your shirt perfectly accentuated your waist and just how nicely your pants hugged your ass.

" i just picked the perfect outfit for today! " you yelled out while still checking yourself out in the mirror while your best friend eyed you.

" you done yet? " he asked, his voice unamused as he's already used to your behavior. you hummed while grabbing your things, already out of the room while yelling at him to hurry up.

he rolled his eyes, " i really don't get your obsession with mirrors.. " he murmured while catching up to you.

the both of you arrived at the cafe and finally managed to get a spot to sit at.

" i can't believe how crowded this place actually is.. the food better be good! " your best friend nodded while looking through the menu, already confused at some of the menu names.

while waiting for him to finish with the menu, you use the mini mirror you always bring with you to fix your hair and look at yourself.

after getting your fill and taking lots of insta worthy photos, you dragged him towards a nearby clothing store, already excited to try on new clothes.

you unlocked the door and showed yourself off to him, " so, how about this one? " you asked while twirling around to show it to him.

he looked you up and down before lazily replying. " yeah sure it looks great. can you hurry up? im getting bored. "

you tsked and closed the door again, opting to judge your outfit yourself. " ugh, you've been saying that for the past three outfits! honestly, why do i even bother asking you! " he rolled his eyes at you, even if you couldn't see it.

" though this other top might look cuter with these jeans... "

" hurry up and stop being so picky! "

after that whole fashion fiesta, you ended up buying all of it anyway, you started dragging him back and forth from place to place.

a satisfied hum escaped your lips as you suck on the spoon that contained gumball-flavored ice cream. you feel refreshed as the cold treat goes down your throat.

" ah.. this place is the best, isn't it? " you said while scooping up another spoon, already missing the taste of the sweet treat.

he hummed while licking up his strawberry ice cream, some of it already dripping down his fingers.

he watched as you set the ice cream down and pulled out your phone camera to look at yourself. " why do you keep looking at yourself on every reflective surface around you? no offense or anything.. " he suddenly asked.

you shut your phone and pick your ice cream up again while shrugging him off. " sometimes when you're just that pretty— "

a groan interrupted you, your best friend obviously annoyed at your response. you laughed at him, satisfied at annoying him again.

" i swear yn, i'm going to knock down that ego of yours. "

" i'd like to see you try. "

you shut your eyes as you tilt your head to the side. " oh no no no, don't you dare look away. " he says while forcing your head to the giant mirror in front of you. " open your fucking eyes, yn. "

you whine while forcing your eyes open to look at him, refusing to look at yourself getting dicked down in the mirror.

" come on, look at yourself pretty. don't you just love doing that? " you look down and shake your head, denying him even if he's actually right.

" i said look at yourself. it's really not that hard of a request right? " he whispered in your ear all while spreading your legs wider for you to see in the mirror.

you finally look at yourself and your dazed expression in the mirror. you glance down to look at how his dick is entering your hole, drool seeping out of your mouth.

he then slides his way onto your cock, rubbing and playing with the tip to tease you.

he laughs in your ear and lets go of your red cock, hoisting your legs up making his cock reach deeper in you and hitting that one spot.

your own best friend had you seated on him with his cock deep inside you. his two hands holding both of your legs up by grabbing under your knees.

he begins slowly, sliding you up and down his cock while enjoying your moans. he watches as your own cock twitch, begging for release already.

" hah look at you, drool down your face just because of this cock. " he taunts you causing you to shoot a glare at him using the mirror.

" s-shut up! if my makeup isn't ruined then are you even fucking me good? honestly, if you— " before your sentence could even finish, he slams you down on his dick making a loud moan escape your mouth.

" not fucking you good? oh, i'll make sure you're fucking crying after this, pretty. "

you whined out loud while trying to bury your face into the sheets, your makeup already long gone, smeared into said sheets.

he pulls your hair up to make you look up into the mirror, not even bothering to stop thrusting into you. " look at yourself pretty. see how your makeup is ruined now? " he mocks you.

you tried to look at yourself, trying to see how your mascara runs down your face because of your nonstop tears, your tears almost wiping the mascara clean. your lipstick smears itself all over your lips with drool and moans escaping from it.

but your eyes keep rolling up from the pleasure, your tears making your vision blurry.

he laughs as he watches your attempt at focusing on yourself, loving the way your eyes kept rolling upwards from how good he's fucking you.

" come on pretty, just look at yourself. don't you love to do that? " he forces your head back down into the sheets, muffling your moans and whines all while cumming into you for the third time already.

he then starts rubbing your cock, your previous release acting as lube for it.

you moan out loud into the sheets as you shoot your load for the fifth time already. "mmh.. no more! " you beg him, your voice muffled.

" ehh..? but im just starting to have fun! "

#tyunniez 🕷#tyunniez asks 💌#bottom male reader #bttm male reader #male reader #uke male reader #x male reader #male x male smut #amab reader #male reader smut #x male reader smut

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deunmiu-dessie · 28 days

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ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.

꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.

Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.

The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.

Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.

The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."

You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.

Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.

Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"

The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."

The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."

Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"

"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."

The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."

As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"

"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace. The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.

The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller.

Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.

After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.

—

Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.

"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.

Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.

Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.

Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.

Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.

Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.

"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."

You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."

The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."

You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard, he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.

He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty."

You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.

The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."

You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared, causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.

After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."

You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating, and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.

Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm. Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.

As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience.

You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.

With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly.

"Might I inquire about your name?" Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."

Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes.

A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.

His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.

You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.

"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "

You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.

The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.

Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.

After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.

Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.

With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )

His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.

With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies. Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.

He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.

Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "

Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.

With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.

A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )

Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!”

With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?"

Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face. Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix.

Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.

" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans.

He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs.

"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"

With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls. A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."

With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin’ girl.”

The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.

You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"

Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.

You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.

He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)

Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.

He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick.

Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.

He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.

The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.

Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole

" Dismissed. "

The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.

"Loran, please."

The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.

A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue.

Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.

Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...

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flokali · 8 months

Text

♢ I love you, I own you | Tartaglia

warnings: yandere, dub-con, penetration, coming inside, unprotected, undertones of misogyny, toxic parents, manipulation and gaslighting, obsessive, paranoid, and possessive behavior, toxic mindset, coerced submission, getting walked into, bribing, murder, torture, self-doubt and insecurities (mc), arranged marriage, implied financial insecurity, implied virginity (mc & childe), spoilers for tartaglia’s story/lore, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unreliable narration (at times). ask to tag.

pairing: afab! fem! reader (bottom) x childe (top)

word count: 13.3k

a/n: ahhh; hopefully this is good >_< i love him so much… after almost a year, ‘tis done ^_^

part two: here

— 18+

Childe is horrified and incredibly angered, if not down right homicidal, when he finds out your parents planned to have you engaged to a no-name Fatui henchman, it’s only a further blow to his already weakened heart when the news don’t come from you nor your family but from the loud mouths of your “soon to be fiancé” and his goons. His blue eyes widen and he feels himself grow lightheaded, his stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out and, oh Celestia, he thinks he’s going to puke.

While perhaps not the most befitting behavior for a Harbinger, Ajax couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he had first heard the mention of your name and while he’s extremely glad he did, - he’s silently thanking the Tsaritsa for telling him now so he could do something - he almost wishes he didn’t as he’s now forced to go back to his office and wordlessly deal with the intrusive thoughts racing through his head.

All he can think about are the countless pinky promises you’d both made to each other during your childhood, the coos of both of your parents when they had first heard him declare his love for you, the feeling of your hands against his when you kissed his cheek goodbye before the fateful day he stumbled down the abyss, the way you and only you were the sole thing keeping him together during his time there, the way you sobbed in relief when he first approached you after emerging victorious from hell itself; did those moments mean nothing? Had only he been impacted by them? Had you forgotten his love for you - your love for him?

No, he thought as he marched to his desk, there’s no way - you had to have felt it too, you must have kept those memories deep in your heart as did he. You both were meant to be, childhood sweethearts, one soul in two different bodies, created from the same stars and carved out from the same earth, put into the same world to meet and love each other from your first life to the last. You were his and he was yours, you were one and the same, you were lovers - it was written in the stars and in his very flesh, it was a fact as true as his love for you.

His breathing is ragged and he can’t contain his shaking body, he never should have trusted your parents - they obviously didn’t have your best interest in mind, if they cared about you at all they would have never promised your hand to another, they would’ve realized he, Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, he was the best man for you.

Granted, they hadn’t heard from good little Ajax for years, not ever since he’d left for the Fatui - he only ever kept consistent correspondence with you and his family - but that’s no excuse, there was no excuse for their actions, they were disgusting pests that were blinded by greed. How much money had they taken to accept such a disgusting agreement? 500,000 Mora? No, that was too cheap… 1,000,000? 2,000,000? More? Maybe it was in the tens of millions, there was no way you were being given away for less, right?

“Ahhh,” the ginger sank in his chair, his trembling hands finding his hair and pulling at the soft strands in frustration, “what do I do now? What should I do? What should I do? Shit… this can’t be happening.”

He wanted to cry and destroy everything. Destroy that man, no… that poor, pathetic excuse of a man that had dared try and stake his claim on you. This wasn’t your fault, there was no way you knew – never once in your letters had you mentioned a lover nor a wedding, you would have told him - would have begged for him to save you - if you did know you must have cried and begged for them to not marry you to that bastard, sobbed as you muttered his - Ajax’s - name like a mantra, begging to be taken by him and finally wed to the true love of your life.

It felt like the world was falling and crushing him alive.

How could they do this to you? How dare they do this to you? To him, to you, to the both of you.

He could just have the man killed, sent on a suicide mission disguised as an essential step for gnosis hunting - maybe even under the pretense of a promotion, he was sure he’d accept anything, he was a no name soldier that would probably be forgotten by the next round of recruitment -, and make your parents go bankrupt, burn their house and have their businesses fail before delivering the final blow of jailing them due to fraud or maybe even executed under claims of treason; the thoughts calmed his rapid heart, if only slightly.

They needed to be taught a lesson, they shouldn’t put their dirty, greedy hands where they didn’t belong.

But no, that’d be too light of a punishment, and there would be so many loose threads - he’d rather be on good terms with your family - if only for you -, could it maybe be a misunderstanding? It could be, right? They were like family to him once, after all, and a part of him hates the idea of them having grown so vile and corrupted, they were supposed to be his in-laws and he’d rather his children have both sets of grandparents. Not to mention, you’d be so sad to see them gone, even if there was a chance they were worth nothing more than dirt.

No, that wouldn’t do, his wife couldn’t be sad - he’d confront them as soon as physically possible, question their actions and propose a better arrangement, and depending on their answer they would become the Fatui’s latest show of loyalty to the Tsaritsa or officially join the perfect future he’d dreamed of with you.

Yes, that’s what he’d do, his shaking heart finally comes to a rest as he begins to plan his trip. If things went south he could easily have his initial plan executed quickly, and while he doesn’t particularly like the idea of having to plan their execution arrangements, justice wasn’t always pleasant.

It’d be alright, surely all of this could be resolved through a mature, adult conversation. And if not, then Childe wasn’t a Harbinger for naught.

It takes him a few days until he’s able to find the time to meet up with your parents, though, honestly, it’s more like barging into your home unannounced and demanding answers. He has a job - a serious job, after all, one that demands his presence and takes true effort and work, unlike that shitty excuse of meat your parents wanted you to marry - and he had matters to attend to – after all forging evidence for a possible execution isn’t easy and he wants to be prepared, it was one of the few times where he wanted to come in with a proper battle plan.

He had it all planned out if things went south, a few reports here, some testimonies there, a lengthy transcript or two, a handful of bank reports, and soon your parents would look like traitors to the crown and be sentenced to public execution.

All he had to do was confront them in person. He wasn’t sure if your parents would be home, he hoped so as to not prolong such a troublesome process any longer, but he was willing to wait. He was getting his answers today, one way or another; he’d free you from this horrid arrangement and whisk you away to give you the life you truly deserved.

Luckily for him, you live in the same neighborhood as you always had, so no time had to be wasted searching for your family’s whereabouts. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to come back to his childhood neighborhood and he can’t help the giddiness in his heart as he strolls through memory lane while making his way down the streets you two shared a childhood in, it looked almost the same - a few differences here and there like a new house or someone’s place having been renovated, but it felt just like home. His parents had long since moved houses into a fancier side of the city, the money Childe managed to bring home as a Harbinger long since allowing them the luxuries that had once felt impossible, but he almost wishes they hadn’t as he spots your family’s humble abode, his heart longing back to the days of your shared youth.

It’s a two story house, built with strong wood made to resist Snezhnaya’s harshest winters and the cold summers, the roof was made of strong wood and designed so that snow would fall as to not sink, the front yard still held the swing you’d begged your parents for on your tenth birthday, the mailbox was still slightly crooked from the time he had head-butted it when racing you back from the park, the flowerbed still held the same flowers and plants that were able to withstand Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, the tree somehow still seemed to harbor the countless balls you two had gotten stuck there back when you were in your preteens; it was like it had been frozen in time, the only true difference he could spot was your older figure sitting on the front steps looking as if you were waiting for something, maybe someone; maybe him.

His heart stops as do his steps, he’d been so busy the last couple of years he hadn’t been able to pay you a visit in person, he’d had a few soldiers patrol the area before, but nothing could prepare Ajax for the surge of emotions that coursed through his body as he laid eyes on you.

Your body was taller and you had grown into your features, but you were still you - your eyes still shined with the hope and love he’d long since lost while your lips were still as tempting as he remembered. There was no doubt it was you, he’d recognize you anywhere; no matter how much you changed. But you looked sad, your lips downcast, your eyes filled with tears, and your frame hunched over, it was clear you were cold by the shaking of your frame but you didn’t falter - still sitting down with a flimsy blanket wrapped around you as you waited.

The scene made him pick up his pace, he was desperate to reach your side; what had happened? Why did you look so sad? Were you hurt? His men had not informed him of anything happening that would explain the crystal like tears that pooled in your eyes, just the sight was enough to have his blood boiling and fists shaking as he wondered who was responsible for the pain you so openly displayed.

Have you found out about Andrei and your parents’ sins? The thought of them being the reason for your sorrow made him grow dizzy with rage, but the negative feelings can only last so long as he has you in his sights. Your mere presence seemed to lull his emotional heart into a more tranquil state.

“[Y/N]?” Childe asked, he was only a few feet away from you but he didn’t dare walk closer, “Is that you?”

“A-Ajax?” Your eyes widened, hope evident in your voice and it’s like all traces of the previous pain in your face had vanished, “Oh, Ajax!”

You hesitate for a second before breaking into a smile when you realize it really was him. It almost looks like you want to burst into tears and he’s sure he probably doesn’t look any better, seeing you in the flesh after so long felt like a dream and as if every moment without you until now had been but a nightmare, he can’t help himself from running towards you and throwing himself into your arms. He looks older, definitely more mature, his is build stronger now - probably due to the fighting and training he endured as a Harbinger, you thought - but his smile was still the same, perhaps a bit empty but it still filled your heart with a warmth that could battle Snezhnaya’s unforgiving cold. It felt right to have him back in your arms as if time had never been cruel and taken him away from you, you could have sweared your worries disappeared the moment you took in his warmth.

His white coat floats through the air as he lands between your arms, and you can feel his smile in your chest as he hugs you tight.

He was finally home, he thought, in your arms and back in the neighborhood that had raised him - he was with you and that was all that mattered, the man was filled with so much ecstasy he could almost forget why he’d come here.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, your voice is shaky and the ginger feels himself melt at the familiar tone of your voice.

“I should be asking you that,” he laughs, his eyebrows becoming furrowed in concern as he speaks, “it’s freezing, darling, you shouldn’t be outside.”

“I… I was waiting for one of your letters,” you whisper shyly, during your time away from each other - weekly letters had been your primary source of communication, something you’d learn to love and cherish as one of the few forms of contact you and Childe could have without your parents knowing his dangerous job and position.

“You’re so cute,” he coos, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders as he realizes you were safe, if anything he feels ashamed he hadn’t been able to send you anything and caused you such pain, his heart aches as he tries to wrap around his head he may have hurt your feelings, his gloved fingers find your cheek and squeezes it tightly, “however, it’s too cold for you to be outside with just a blanket, my love.”

“I know,” you shake your head, you go to lift a hand to wipe the stray tears that had escaped you but Childe takes care of it for you as he delicately caressed your face, “it’s just, I hadn’t heard from you in almost two weeks and I got worried, I thought… maybe something had happened in Liyue and you’d gotten hurt.”

“O-oh… I’m sorry,” his deep blue eyes look downcast as he processes your words, “I never meant to worry you, I had so much to do and to say that instead of a letter I decided to come meet you in person, i-isn’t that better, love? I simply couldn’t be away from you any longer, it’s my fault, though, I should have told you so earlier, ahh… I can’t believe I’ve made my angel cry.”

A poor soldier would have their head cut off tonight, he thought, for he was certain he’d sent a bag full of letters meant to last you at least a full season to be delivered everyday to you while he arranged for this mess to be solved.

You nod as stars fill your eyes before shaking your head as if assuring him you were alright. You loved Ajax and you had loved him for almost all your life, from the moment you met him you’d been charmed by his boyish good looks and charisma, of course a few things had changed, but he was still your sweet Ajax, the boy who’d stolen your heart and kept it safely within his arms for as long as you’ve known him.

“Come on,” you signal him to stand up with a soft pat and the man has to stop himself from begging for more of your touch, “let’s go inside, you must be tired and we have so much to talk about.” He nods and lets himself be pulled up by you as you giggle and smile about finally being able to talk face to face after years of not being able to physically see each other.

You feel like a teenager again as you lead Ajax into your house, your heart beating like you were confessing your love for the first time - the excitement was practically the same, your head felt fuzzy from the warm feeling holding Childe’s hand gave you; you had missed him terribly. You feel like you were about to explode into a million piece from excitement, your head filled with everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Ajax’s face ever since he left, all the news that felt too important to simply write out and that had you hoping a day like this would finally come, you’re scared of coming off too intensely but your heart truly feels like it’ll burst from joy, unfortunately your excitement comes to an abrupt end when you finally drag him into your living room. You turn around to offer him a drink or something to eat, the trip from the capital all the way over here was a couple hours long and he’d always had quite an appetite, but you’re faced with a look of disappointment and slight anger as he looks around the room, your heart sinks - just seconds ago he was all smiles and laughter as you two embraced each other in the harsh winter, having created a warm paradise between each other, but now he looked as if he couldn’t stand to be in your house and you wonder if maybe you’d angered him somehow even though you logically knew you’d done nothing other than invite him inside.

Maybe you were overreacting, you think, you’d been quite paranoid as of recently, your family had been distant and you’d been feeling lonely and anxious for a while. It’d been an embarrassingly long time since you’d had guests over, at least, guests that mattered to you and hadn’t been your parents’ friends or siblings spouses. The look in Ajax’s face makes your stomach churn; had something happened?

“Are your parents home?” He asks, his voice tinged in a mixture of distaste and sadness, it’s lower than when he’d spoken to you earlier and you wonder what could have happened to create such a drastic change in his behavior. If you took the time to notice you’d see how his eyes glare at the family portrait; the two traitors clear as day as they embraced their children, Childe couldn’t help but see them in a new, more negative and hateful light.

Not after two weeks of research, not when he was now certain they wanted to get in his way.

“No, they said they weren’t coming home until later tonight, but if you want to stay till then I’m sure they'd love to see you again,” you try to reassure him thinking he was perhaps saddened at not being able to see your parents, it’d make sense since, unlike you two, they hadn’t been able to keep in touch since the young man’s career in the Fatui began.

“I… I don’t think I want to meet them, no,” Ajax shakes his head, his hair bouncing as he makes his way to your sofa, his legs tremble slightly – cowards, he thinks, not even able to show their faces, “I actually came here to talk to them but, ha… now that I’m here I’m not too sure.”

“Hmm, how so?” You ask, your heart - which was already quite nervous at his sudden change of mood - sinks further, a sudden uneasiness fills your lungs.

He’d come here in hopes of finding you parents and confronting them with his findings, he would have offered them a chance to redeem themselves and cancel the wedding without you even finding out about the secret dealings they’d been making in your name, but they were not here, you were. Maybe, he could change his battle plan, if he couldn’t talk to your parents… why not simply talk to you? If he’d offered a higher sum and never asked you himself, he’d be no better than that lowlife and your parents, not that you’d reject him - but the thought of steeping as low as they did made him sick.

“What are your thoughts about marriage?” The question is so sudden and unrelated to the previous topic you instinctively frown.

“Marriage,” you sit down opposite of him, it feels like you’re in a job interview as he questions you, “I mean, I’ve thought about it but I’m not sure I want to get married, at least not now, I’m not too sure I’d want to give it all up; I mean, I have a job and friends, there’s so much to do, so much I want to do… and I can’t say I’d be able to do it all if I was married. I’d like to travel and, I… I don’t know, learn more I guess, I feel like if I settle down it'll be once I’m more, you know, confident or mature?”

You trail off awkwardly, it was true - the only times you’d ever seriously thought about marriage often included you being significantly older and, most of the time, with an already retired Ajax — though you wouldn’t admit that to his face unless you were certain he felt the same. You’d rather keep that last part hidden, if not for fear of making him uncomfortable, for the sake of your heart and fear of being brushed aside. Your parents had made it quite clear; you were no marriage-material, you’d be lucky if you even manage to get a partner at this rate, and you doubted a man as accomplished as Tartaglia, Ajax, the 11th Harbinger, would settle for a average, clumsy, pessimistic small town girl such as yourself.

He stays quiet as if a million thoughts were racing around his head; that wasn’t the answer he particularly wanted, he’d rather hear you’d been fantasizing of marrying him, hear you ramble on and on about how you’d been waiting for him and were just about ready to go down the aisle with him and promise yourself to one another but he was glad you weren’t against the idea of marriage, even if he wished you’d been more open about doing it sooner rather than later; but that would change, he was sure of it.

“And, uh, what about you?” You ask, the air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to ease the tension, only one thought was really running through your head that you were too afraid to ask; “What was going on with Ajax?”

“Me?” The question snaps him out of whatever mental trance he’d caught himself in, “Well, I want to get married, the sooner the better, I want to have a family, but it’s gotta be with the person I love the most in this world, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine living without them.”

Neither the words themselves nor the sentiment are crazy, even if you’d only just gotten to know him, it was obvious Ajax wanted a loving family to call his own and it was a pretty common desire for many, it more so was the way his eyes seemed to bore into your own as he spoke, as if he were trying to let you know it was you who he was talking about. You flustered at the thought, it was perhaps selfish to think it was you he was talking about but the thought pleased you nonetheless even if your parents’ words echoed in your mind.

“That’s, ah,” you mumble, breaking eye contact and looking elsewhere, trying to calm your beating heart, you should stop being so silly - he was here to talk with your parents, not you, both of you meeting was mere coincidence, nothing else, “really nice, I hope you find them soon..”

“You do?” He smiles, seemingly pleased with your words, but it’s significantly weaker than usual.

There’s an awkward silence as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d come here to propose. You know it sounds crazy and incredibly sudden but the mention of marriage and wanting to talk to your folk, the fact he’d made the time in his incredibly busy schedule and travels to come over to your house, it made it sound like he had ulterior motives for coming here and just the thought of them had you flustered. You may have just said you wanted to hold off on marriage, that you doubted someone like him would even think of being your partner, but you felt certain that if Ajax asked for your hand you would agree with no hesitation – out of a pitiful mix of love and desperation.

You’re unsure of what to do and are about to speak up, willing to say almost anything to move the conversation forward and away from the topic, but he beats you to it and breaks the silence first.

“Listen, dove… I-I love your parents and I wouldn’t accuse them of something like this if I didn’t have evidence, okay?” He lies through his teeth, after finding out the way they were so willing to get in between you two he could barely stand the thought of them now, but he’s lucky the rest of the words come easy, “I really didn’t want to believe this either, but I have many a reason to suspect they may be trying marrying you off soon to a stranger.”

“W-What?” You breathe out, you struggle to process his words, it’s as if they’d bounced off your brain and floated off elsewhere, “M-marrying me off? What’s - what do you mean?”

No, no, no way.

You feel yourself grow tense and light headed.

What sort of messed up prank was this? There was no way… right?

“It seems they found a member of the Fatui,” he shakes his head, “a guy named Andrei Galkin, and they’re planning to marry you off to him, so I decided to ask around - it seems like it’s been a topic for a while now, money may be involved too, the reason I came here was to… have a talk with your parents, see if I could change their mind.”

“D-do you even have proof?” You ask with a shivering voice, heat rushes to your cheeks as you begin to feel hot in embarrassment and anger; your parents were meaning to sell you off to some man? This had to be a joke Childe was playing, you’d known he’d become a bit off after the Abyss incident and you knew his time as a Harbinger probably messed him up, but this wasn’t funny. It was disgusting, the mere prospect has you trembling as you try and grasp what on earth was happening. However, the more you look at him, you wonder if this is a joke at all. You studied him and his expression, desperately trying to see anything on his face that’d indicate this was a sick prank from his part, a cheeky smile or maybe lack of eye contact - anything would do, you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate as you realized how absurd it’d be for him to come all the way to a village hours away from the main city to play such a horrible joke on you, one he must have known would cause you pain and anguish — you doubted he’d want to see you like this, at least you hoped he wouldn’t want to see you like this.

Oh, the realization makes you grow lightheaded, he was probably telling the truth.

“There’s correspondence between them and his family, there’s also a wedding venue booked under their names,” Ajax mumbled, his voice a mere whisper against the sound of your beating heart, he pulls a few files from his coat and hands them to you - your last name is printed on the cover and you quickly open them and browse through the pages, your heart sinks, “I also found money transactions between your family and the Galkin family, about… I’m sorry but I can’t —“

“How much, Ajax?” You feel stiff and your hands start shaking making it hard for you to continue flipping through the countless reports, photographs, records, bank transactions, and letters, your blood feels terribly cold as you try to calm down the whirlwind of feelings that coursed through your body, but you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down, not when your family, your parents of all people, have seemed to been able to calmly put a price on not only your love but your person as well.

“About 900,000 Mora,” he mutters, cold blue eyes avoiding your gaze as he continues, “to Uncle and Auntie from Andrei’s family.”

“900,000 Mora…” You feel your heart shatter as Childe brings a comforting hand towards your shoulders, his calloused fingers massaging your tense muscles, “You’re… you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I’d never lie about such a thing,” he approaches you slowly, Ajax continues speaking as he envelops you with a hug soon after removing the papers from your trembling hands,“this pains me as much as it pains you.”

All of this was true, it’d taken him a long time to gather it all, but the reality was simple and cruel;

your parents had begun arranging for your marriage to an older Fatui soldier for after his retirement.

“Why… why would they do this?” You mutter, feeling sorrow slowly fill your lungs up - making it harder to breathe comfortably, “H-how could they? How could they? Why… Ajax, w-why?”

You felt like an idiot, just minutes ago you’d naively thought you may be getting proposed to by your childhood lover, a childish and hopelessly romantic thought, but now you’re sitting in your living room, on the verge of a breakdown as you tried to think of why on earth your parents would be willing to accept such an offer on your behalf, why they’d use you - their daughter - for Mora.

“Shhh, it’s okay, let it out,” he brings your head into his shoulder, caressing your back in a soothing manner, “it must feel horrible, I’m sure.”

And so you sit there, sobbing into your old friend as you try and process the information presented in front of you. It takes you a good couple of minutes to calm down, by then you two have once again sat down on the couch.

“What am I going to do?” You bury your face into your hands, your body shook as you thought about having to confront your parents once they arrived now with the knowledge you had.

It takes Ajax a couple of seconds before he speaks up, he needed to make it seem like he hadn’t been thinking of this from the moment he’d gotten his hands on the evidence himself; “I have an idea but...”

Your head shoots up in record speed, you could practically feel your neck crack from the sudden move but you didn’t care, you were desperate for a solution - no matter how good or bad it may be; “Oh come on, just spit it out, nothing could be worse than this.”

“Marry me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches; “M-Marry you?”

He nods, sapphire eyes staring you down like a hunter would prey - you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

“Why?”

“Why?” He echos, you can see him stifle a laugh, “Because it’s either that or marrying some lowlife named Andrei who paid to wed you.”

You feel your body stiffen at the harsh words, they were true but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear. You avoid looking him in the eyes, your hands anxiously twiddle each other.

“… and what if you’re wrong?”

“What?” He asks as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said.

“What if my parents aren’t marrying me off…”

“Darling,” Ajax laughs but his eyes didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, “are you doubting me? I gave you evidence, it’s right there.”

“Not necessarily,” you look away, you couldn’t help but wonder why you needed to explain yourself, “but, come on, I can’t accept this, it’s too sudden and mom and dad, t-they’d never do this to me, right? I’m their daughter, you know? They love me, they said they did and you don’t do this if you love someone, right?. So… so w-what if you’re wrong?”

“Wrong? There’s no other interpretation that makes sense of what we’ve both seen. Why would I lie to you about this? Come on, love, look at me, do I look like I’m enjoying this?” He questions you, “Look at me, come on, listen to me, if it were up to me,” he grabs your chin when you refuse to meet his gaze, his dark blue eyes stare deeply into your soul; they don’t shine the way the once used to, “I would have asked them for their blessing and proposed to you in the plaza, I would have had a ring ordered from Liyue costume made for you, I’d organize for their to be flowers of every color imaginable, even arrange food and music too, there would be hundreds onlookers who’d die to experience a fraction of the joy we would be feeling, I would have invited my family and yours, I’d have you wearing a custom dress, you’d be the happiest woman in Teyvat if I’d have my way… but look where we are instead, can’t you see? This isn’t what I wanted for us, this isn’t what I wanted for you, but we still have time, we can still fix it. But before that first, you have to believe me and get it through your head; this is who they are, this is what they’ve done, your parents don’t love you any more.”

“…” You can only look at him in shock as you feel tears swell in your eyes because it was not far fetched to say that the last few months your family had been distant, that they’d begun to act strange, and that you’d been short on cash for Tsaritsa knows how long, it hurt because a part of you felt like this was plausible. Because it was true, you were the youngest and that you didn’t exactly pull your weight the same way your siblings did, it was true you’d been more of a casualty in your family’s life but that didn’t mean they’d sell you off. No, they had treated you with love and kindness, they’d been there for every big step in your life, they loved you… right? They’d never do this to you, they would never accept Mora in exchange for your hand in marriage. They would never trade their love for you for some Money… right?

Maybe their love was ensuring you had a better future, one where your lover took care of you even if you didn’t exactly choose them, it was true your love life had been awfully stale, that the only person you’d ever been interested in who had also liked you back was in the army, and that you were never quite able to secure a full time job, it was always part-time and you were always booked the least compared to your coworkers. It was true you didn’t have many friends, most of the people your age had moved away by now, you were the only one of your siblings who wasn’t married or dating someone, out of all of your siblings you were the only one who seemed to remain the same no matter how many years passed. Maybe it was exactly what this was, a misunderstood, misplaced, and ill-fitting way of showing their love; but maybe you hated the thought this was their way of expressing it more than you were moved they’d tried at all.

“Shhh, my love,” you didn’t quite catch when Ajax had started wiping your tears away nor when he had managed to get so close, but at that moment – the moment where your whole life felt so uncertain and shaken – you were willing to ignore it all, “it’s okay, I know what you’re thinking… My offer still stands, you can still marry me.”

“And then what?” You sobbed, holding his gloved hands tightly against your cheek, “What am I going to do after that?”

“You’ll move in with me,” he responds matter of factly yet his tone is still soft, as if he feared speaking too loudly would scare you away, “and we’ll tell them together and you’ll make your bags and we’ll be on our way away from all of this mess. Please listen to me, sweetheart, as of right now, I’m the only choice for you – it won’t be bad at all, it’ll be lovely in fact, don’t you want that?”

“…”

“Please, please trust me, I only want what’s best for you,” he continues, ignoring your silence and instead continuing to caress your skin, “I’ve worked with Andrei, he’s no good, he’s older and cranky, he’s always in a bad mood, he won’t satisfy you, and I don’t want you to be miserable, I mean look at you, is this what you want? Hear me out and put trust in me, you won’t regret it; I’ll get you out of this, I promise.”

“But…”

“I love you and I know you love me,” he whispered, drawing closer to you, his voice low as he slowly leans into your lips, he stops right before they can touch his own, “and I’m sure you’ll grow to love this too.”

There’s a silence as you let your options cross your head, you feel yourself grow overwhelmed, being struck with grief and regret in such strong waves you have no choice but to simply give in to the only secure stone you currently see in the storm that was brewing in your mind.

He loved you, he said so himself, and he’d protect you, he’d promised. You could trust him, you had to trust him; you had no one else.

“I’ll… I’ll marry you.”

“That’s my girl.” He boasts, his face – which is now close enough for you to smell the mint in his breath – breaks into a smile before he’s leaning into your face to kiss you; You reciprocate the action and close your eyes, secretly hoping that today was but a nightmare.

You feel his gloved hands wander around your body, the leather-like material is smooth as his skilled digits play around. There’s barely any time to breathe as he continues kissing you until you grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen entering your lungs.

You had always liked Ajax, always dreamed of marrying him, but as your dreams were coming true you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the circumstances that brought it up.

“Darling,” he moans, as he finally parts himself from your abused lips, “you’re not kissing back, don’t tell me you –“

“Ajax,” you interrupt, your voice barely above a whisper as you desperately try to dive into his eyes, seeking an answer, “why are you doing this?”

The question spoke for itself, no further clarification was needed; why had he come? Why had he revealed your parents’ plans? Was it even as awful as he made it seem? Why did he care? Why now? Did he really want to marry you or did he just feel responsible for you? Why did he bring himself into this mess? Why you, why him, why, why, why, why? Simply; why?

A part of you couldn’t quite believe what you’d heard, you still struggled to grasp the idea that your parents would even think of giving your hand away for Mora, and yet the intensity in his voice, the anger in his tone as he relayed the information he’d gathered could have convinced anyone, you doubted he’d lie about something as severe. If this was the truth, it’d been revealed to you too quickly, you’d been expected to get over it too soon, one moment you find out your parents were getting rid of you and your trust in the most materialistic of ways and the next you’ve been proposed to by a man you hadn’t seen in person for over half a decade. You can’t help but wonder if you said yes because you loved him or because you were desperate, for what - you didn’t know.

“Because I love you,” he speaks, his dull eyes finding yours and you wonder if they’d always lacked light, “I love you… and I’m not letting anyone get in my- our way.”

In his head, this was the only way to have you, this was the only way to love you, he was going to save you.

He doesn’t stop to wait for your response before he’s picked you up with ease, years of training and hard work evident by how nonchalantly he walks around your house and goes up the stairs, ignoring all the other rooms and picking up the pace the closer you got to the destination; you were going to your bedroom, you realize, the one you’d been occupying since you were a child. You never thought your house to be small but the speed in which he was walking made you aware of how short the distance between your bedroom and living room was.

“Ajax, what are you doing?” You whimper, you hold on tightly to the ginger, you’re so close you can smell his cologne, afraid he’d let you do if you let up even for a second.

“I’ll show you,” he continued down the hall, there’s an edge to his voice that gives you a chill, he sounded almost angry but with whom you did not know, “I’ll show you why I’m doing this.”

You two finally make your way to your bedroom where he kicks the door open and plops you, quite unceremoniously, down onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes and wiggles his heavy coat off before climbing the bed with you, he tugs you around until you’re below him.

“You’re doing all of this too fast, calm down,” you argue, pain and sorrow still evident in your voice and it hurts his soul to hear it, “you don’t have to prove me anything, I…”

“Everything I’ve said is true, love,” the red-head insists, “and I’m doing this equally for me as I’m doing it for you.”

You don’t respond, instead you opt to look away; his gaze was becoming too intense and it was making you feel funny in ways you hadn’t felt before.

“Look at me,” his hands find your jaw and he redirects your gaze forcefully, “you’ve already said yes, unless… don’t tell me you,” his eyes darken as they narrowed, an almost animalistic look took over his features, “you lied and you don’t want to marry me.”

“I… I do, I’ve always wanted to, but,” It’s embarrassing to admit but you do so anyway in fear of creating a misunderstanding between the two of you, everything was going so fast you were struggling to keep up, “but… is this really how you want to do it?”

You were certain you could take things slower, maybe wait for your parents to come home and talk to them, you didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, was this healthy? Was this okay?

“Yes,” it seems like he can sense your hesitation so he continues, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His words held so much certainty you almost feel stupid for even questioning him, he drew near your lips once more before engulfing your mouth in a kiss, this time with much more vigor than before.

His teeth nip at your lips, begging for entry and you shyly grant it, slowly parting your mouth open. It’s all so messy as you feel his tongue enter your mouth, the muscle seemingly had a life of its own as it mapped your mouth, teeth clashed against each other as if he were desperate to dominate you.

His hands find your waist and insists on pushing you further into the bed, molding your body into the mattress, as he rubs your sides with slow, sensual movements that light your body ablaze. The contrast between the continuous attacks on your lips and the soft stroking of your body left you dizzy, he handled you as if you were made of porcelain and yet ravaged you like a beast when granted access.

You unknowingly whine as your lips finally part, taking a deep breath of air in the process, a thin strip of saliva connected you both, a lewd indicator of the passion Ajax wished to imprint on you. You’re both panting, clearly riled up from the heated kiss, but the man on top of you insisted on letting his hands work their way through you. Your eyes trail downwards where his gloved digits traced the shape of your body, the way they glide across your curves and dips was hypnotizing, and you miss the way a smirk overtakes his features as he realizes how tightly he’s got you wrapped around those very same fingers.

You feel his breath before you hear his words; “Can I take this off?”

His voice is barely above a whisper yet his question rings around the room like a scream, you feel yourself grow hot under your clothes; the same ones he’d just asked to remove off of you.

You’re too embarrassed to answer him, still slightly hesitant to continue going, you can feel your cheeks heat up into a burning mess and you’re scared that if you speak you’ll make a fool of yourself, so instead you nod slowly, trying to calm your racing mind, moving your eyes elsewhere in hopes you wouldn’t have to see the smug look his face was sure to take.

However, he’s quick to catch your face and redirect your gaze back to himself; “Thank you.”

You let him pick you from the bed to fiddle with the claps on the back of your dress, his fingers are swift in figuring out how to free you from your outer layers, it’s almost amazing how quickly he’s able to take your clothes off until you’re clad in your modest undergarments.

Due to Snezhnaya’s unforgiving winters you often layered multiple articles of clothing and prioritized warmth over aesthetics, the thought your underwear might be underwhelming doesn’t cross your mind until you’re left with your thigh-length woolen socks and plain bra and panties. You wonder if maybe the sight would be disappointing for a man as well traveled as Childe, he’s probably seen much more appealing bodies and clothes during his travels, but that idea goes as quickly as it comes when you finally see his reaction to your partially bare body.

Even though he still wore multiple layers, you could see the way his chest had begun to fall and rise unsteadily, his cheeks have taken a feverish glow, and his breath has become noticeably ragged, the hands that held the clothes he’d recently taken off your body were clearly shaking, his fists tightened their grip on the soft fabrics of your garments until they wrinkled. His eyes never left you, even as they traveled through your body, mapping out every nook and cranny he so desperately wanted to mark and savor, he didn’t dare let his gaze wander as if afraid the minute he did you’d disappear and he’d wake up in his office, cold and alone.

“Hah…” Ajax lets out a soft moan as he takes in the sight in front of him, he feels weak and bothered as he watched your breasts rise and fall as you breathed, he lets his eyes go downwards until he’s face to face with your covered pussy and he feels his underwear slowly moisten as he catches sight of a small wet patch that had formed in your panties.

“Don’t look at me like that…” You mumble into your arms, your body instinctively tries to hide itself but your friend doesn't allow it. The minute he feels your legs try to bundle together he slots himself in between them and throws your clothes away so he can fully grasp and force them apart.

There’s silence as you both stare at each other, waiting for one of you to make the first move and fully pass the point of no return.

Surprisingly, this time it’s you who grows impatient and drags the ginger down to meet your hungry lips.

Maybe it’s because right now, Ajax felt like the only person who cared about you and you felt desperate to feel comforted, you felt betrayed and hurt and you craved to be reminded you were loved. It wasn’t healthy and a part of you felt guilty, like you were using him for momentary comfort, as if you’d forced him to come and offer his hand in marriage, if you were smarter and stronger maybe you would’ve realized what was going on and could have stopped it. But he’d said he loved you, right? You loved him, you knew you did and he’d gone and declared his love for you first, even when you were kids he was always dedicated to reminding you of his adoration, but your parents said that too and where did that lead to? He wasn’t doing this out of feeling obligated to care for you, was he?

Maybe this was a mistake, you probably should not be initiating sex with a man you haven’t seen in person in years after he came to tell you your parent had sold you off to marry some rich old, gross soldier, you instead should have sat down and talked for longer, tried figuring out what was going on and perhaps find a solution that didn’t include you marrying your childhood sweetheart, not out of love but out of fear of being forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger. But the fact of the matter is that you didn’t do that, you let yourself be dragged along by his passion and desperation, you now laid in bed making out with Ajax as you desperately tried to push the thoughts of self-doubt and disgust away.

You try to focus on the present without thinking of the past nor the future; The almost one million Mora your parents had pocketed didn’t mean anything, there was no Andrei Galkin, Ajax had never left you, the Fatui didn’t exist, there hadn’t been any betrayal or hurt feelings, you were safe and you were free, there was nothing. In this room, at least for this moment, all that existed was you and Tartaglia.

His shirt is a barrier between your greedy hands and his naked body that’s becoming increasingly annoying as you parted your lips to grant him access to your all of mouth, which he gladly accepts as your tongues caress each other in a sloppy manner, you feel your teeth sometimes clash with his own but you’re too focused on tugging at his clothes, trying to get them off with the least amount of space between you both to care. They could rip, you didn’t care, you wanted to feel his body and warmth, you needed to feel alive.

Your body is starting to feel tingly, your nipples feel hard against your bra and your lower region becomes needy. You want him to touch you more but his hands are busy fiddling with your hips and waist, alternating between the two spots as he caresses and pinches your skin.

You both seem hesitant to let each other go even if it’s for something as necessary as catching your breaths, but even if things seemed to have slowed down it didn’t mean something isn't happening.

“Ajax,” your voice is soft and breathless, you feel your lungs beg you to not speak, “take ‘em off, wanna touch you…”

You gesture at his clothes, slowly running a finger around his chest and stopping at - where you guessed - his nipple was and pressing down hard.

A deep grunt of approval escaped the man’s lips at the feeling and it took him a second to nod, busy trying not to focus too much on the way he felt his cock throbbing, and back off to make way for him to take his clothes off. Childe refuses to completely climb off you, instead leaning backwards to unbutton his shirt and click off the harness he wore, his coat falling behind is his figure, and his shoes long since thrown elsewhere, his pink nipples are clearly sensitive as his eyes shut off tightly as his clothes graze them, his whole body felt on fire - as if your mere presence were an aphrodisiac to the man. Next is his pants and socks and he does his very best to be as quick as humanly possible, they’re all off in record speed and he’s soon only wearing his underwear.

The minute he’s done, he’s thrown himself back onto you as if trying to make up for the few seconds he’d parted from you.

You’re flustered as you finally feel his skin freely come in contact with yours, as if the situation slowly began sinking in just then. Not to mention, you’d caught sight of his raging boner through the thin layer of fabric that constituted his undergarments. It looked big and thick and you wondered, if you even reached that point, if it was even possible to feel good from such a thing pounding on your hole, it looked like it’d hurt more than anything. But a greedy part of you was desperate to find out how it’d feel to have all of him inside of you, to have his fat tip caressing the deepest corners of your body, painting your gummy insides white.

This time, you both skip the kissing and go straight to touching each other, this time more shamelessly and with less hesitance. Your hands find his neck and you pull his head into the crook of your neck where he dedicates his time to litter kisses across the area, you let your hands wander across his shoulders and neck, softly scratching the skin under your nails whenever he kisses a particularly sensitive spot. On the other hand, Ajax let his hands travel across your chest and cup your breasts, he molds the flesh like a stress ball, tightening his grip and pulling at them like they were toys. The feeling of your bra coming into contact with your hardening nipples makes you whimper and moan while your body contorts in an attempt to meld deeper with the man on top of you.

Your movements are restricted and awkward as you were currently caged between the bed and him, but you do your best to communicate your growing neediness.

“A-Ajax, mhmm~!” You gasp, his teeth gnaw at a spot in your neck that has a shot of neediness reaching your privates in electrifying waves, “… more, I wan’ more…”

You can feel his lips curve into a smirk as he hears the desperation in your voice but he’s not better at concealing the very obvious way your words affected him; “My dove wants more? Hah—haha, a-aren’t you such a cute ‘nd needy little thing.”

You huff slightly at his teasing words but you can’t deny that the way he addressed you as “his” made you grow increasingly horny. He seems to hear your soft complaint and finally parts with your neck, which was now littered with hickies and love bites, to allow himself to gaze deeply into your eyes.

You could never deny that Ajax’s eyes were the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen, they resemble sapphires and noctilucous jade but with less shine. When you both were younger you’d spend hours gazing upon them, admiring the intensity they held. Now, however, you can’t say you aren’t slightly intimidated as he gazes at you like a predator. His hands leave your body and you’re immediately missing the warmth they provided you, in fact, you’re about to complain and ask him to touch you again when he suddenly cups your clothed pussy with his hand.

His hand is large, his fingers are long and the palm is in no way small, which meant most - if not all - of your cunt was now being held in one of his hands. His thumb is hovering over your clit and you gasp as you feel him tighten his hold and trace his fingers across your slit and up to your sensitive nub.

You squirm, letting your bottom grind against his hands, slowly building up your pleasure until you’re letting out soft moans and whines. Tartaglia decides to aid you as he himself works towards getting his member hard and oozing with release by moving his hand across your pussy and grinding on your thighs simultaneously. Your mind grows hot and dazed as you sense your pussy begin to drool, you could feel the way your juices leaked, the wet trail they’d leave and traveled across your your entrance, down your slit and across your thighs, soaking your underwear with release; you wondered if Ajax could feel your excitement too.

You could certainly feel him. His cock had long since been hard and leaking precum, you could make out through hazy eyes and desperate movements a wet patch on his boxers. It looked so big constrained against the fabric, you wanted to free his cock and feel it inside your hole, any of them, his balls seemed to hold unceremonious amounts of cum as the wetness kept growing more and more visible to you, you wondered if he’d be willing to come inside of you if you asked.

You both work together, trying to make the other as aroused as possible until someone snapped and began demanding the intercourse you both clearly wanted.

You don’t want to give in, not yet, but he’s begun to tease your slit with his fingertips and you’re growing aggravated from the empty feeling in your cunt. You feel yourself clenching onto nothing, your walls closing desperately trying to find anything to grip onto, you are growing desperate to feel something inside, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock — you wanted him inside of you, now.

“Ha… hah~” You can feel his tongue hanging from his open mouth, drool escapes his parted lips and coats your breasts, you’re surprised he’s managed to keep himself up for so long, all the training he’d endured paying off and allowing him to mount your thighs and grind his length against your skin, his expression is one of extreme arousal that makes you tense and grow lust-drunk, “T-Tell me… d’ya wanna feel my cock in your pussy yet, darling?”

“…! M—mhk?!” You let out a high pitched whine as a particular stroke of his hands delves momentarily into your clothed hole, you can feel your cum slowly dirty your underwear.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, his movements growing erratic, his ginger hair seems darker and less vibrant against his reddened face, “your… your pussy is beggin’ for me!”

“Please…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body still rocks alongside his own as he uses your body to get off and bring you close to a mind-numbing release, your voice wavers as your whole being is shocked from the pleasure Ajax’s hand toying with your clothed cunt brings, your legs twitch and your body keeps contorting and folding.

“Hmm, please what? I need you to tell me,” he mumbles, his voice takes a deep, desperate and animalistic tone as he continues, he takes his fingers and starts to circle your clit with an unimaginable force, “What do you want, huh? If you want me to fuck y-you, you’ll need to use your big girl words. Say; “I want my husband’s cock inside of me”, come on, ask for y-your husband’s cock…!”

“A~Ajax…! Please-uh…” Your body begins to hurt, your very own genitals seem to be burning in fire as you desperately try to soothe the ache in your womb and clit. You begin to rut against his hands at an embarrassing, almost objectifying, pace, absolutely desperate to cum and lift the cloud of lust that seemed to haunt you from the moment Ajax laid your body on your mattress.

“That’s not who I am,” he mumbles into your skin, his teeth beginning to bite and mark the flesh of your breast, “I’m y-your husband now, right? So, ask for it properly… hah~ won’t you?”

“… want my h-husband’s cock, I… inside of me, please,” you whine between heavy breaths, “I… want to fuck my—hah… h-husband…”

The moan that leaves his lips is loud and primal, his whole body shudders as he hears your plea. He didn’t think he could get any harder and yet hearing your shaky voice ask for him sends a rush of blood through his body and straight to his dick.

“Ahaha… that’s right, isn’t it? I-I’m your husband now,” an unsettling grin starts to form on his face, one that, if you weren’t so desperate and vulnerable, would probably have sent a shiver down your spine; it was an expression that resembled his face after ending a powerful opponent, one that meant victory was his, that he’d won, it was the face many people would see before departing the realm of the living, one of pure, unhinged bliss that could only be understood by a man such as himself, “I’m your husband, your husband… a-ah! Ha-ah, that means… hah, that means it’s my duty to fuck you, to make you feel good, a good husband makes love to his spouse, right? S-so as your husband, I get to be inside of you… a-and make you cum lots. Yeah, I… I’m going to be the best husband, you’ll feel good too… So be a good wife and take all of my love, ‘kay?”

During his incoherent rambling, which you barely could understand, he works to rid you of your underwear with desperate movements. His hands pull at the fabric with enough force that they tear, allowing him to rip the fabric off your hips and discard it on the floor. The cool air in your room hits your lower end and makes you shiver, your body had been previously engulfed by Childe’s warmth, the feeling of his own heating body and rapid blood circulation had sheltered you from the freezing temperature outside of the sinful haven between your bodies. The difference in temperature and its effect on you seems to have been noticed by your partner, who looks around the room trying to find a solution.

You want to hurry him up, tell him you didn’t mind the cold, that you just wanted to feel him inside you for the first time, but before you know it he’s pulling something from behind; his white coat soon is back on his shoulders, lazily throw on, barely holding up as he quickly pulls his underwear off. He’s quick and precise, never wasting a moment as he adjusts himself on top of you once more, this time with his bare cock leaking on your stomach.

“I’ll heat you up… inside and out, hah…” He mumbles, adjusting the coat so it covers both of you, the long, heavy material immediately worked wonders as your body regained its warmth.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, you’re both trembling as he slowly lowers his pelvis to meet your own. You were right, he was big and he was long and thick, but he made sure to go slowly as he inserted two fingers to stretch you out in preparation.

Your slick facilitates the intrusion, there’s not much pain as he opens and closes his fingers, curling and extending them, as if trying to gauge how far you could stretch. His cheeks are a bright red, sweat runs through his forehead as he feels your body accommodate the feeling of his fingers. Ajax was big, always taller than most in your village, and his time in the Fatui had definitely contributed to his size – his shoulders were broad, his chest chiseled, and his fingers, the ones that slowly danced inside your pussy, were long and calloused. This was your first time feeling something other than your own hands and Ajax was making sure to show you all the places you could have never reached on your own.

You don’t even realize you’d begun panting, soft whines and moans had been leaving your lips forma while now, noises that only served to encourage Ajax further. But he had to stop, he needed you both to cum together as one. Your first time together had to be romantic like that, both of you climaxing together and coming undone at the same time.

There’s a feeling of emptiness and disappointment that follows the feeling of his fingers leaving your body, you’re about to complain when you see him bring his fingers to his lips to lap at the slick that had stuck to them. You’re mesmerized at the lewd image, gazing hopelessly at the way his face melted into one of pure pleasure as he tasted you. He makes sure to lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping at the cum.

You catch his eyes and they soften, a lovestruck look taking over his features, you nod and open your legs wider than before; encouraging him to finally fuck you. He positions himself outside of your opening, making sure you grasp your legs and pull them as wide apart as he physically could without hurting you.

Even with the previous preparation, your breath is knocked out of your lungs as his tip slowly makes its way through your slit, past the muscles and finally inside your gummy walls.

He uses his arms to adjust his body, making sure to be as careful as possible as to not hurt you. This was your first time making love to each other, and he’d be damned if he were the one to cause you pain.

He gives you a second before pushing the rest in, he’s still slow, attempting to coax your body into adjusting to the feeling of being so full. His blue eyes are closed, his breath is heavy and you can feel the bed shake as he tries to control himself, you’re not faring much better, your head felt light as all your body could seemingly concentrate on was the feeling between your legs, your body was heating up and you could feel the warmth radiate off your skin.

You know he’s fully sheathed himself when you feel the soft “thud” of his balls hitting your ass, you’ve become hyper aware of the proximity and situation you’re in as his cock begins to throb inside of your pussy, his head comes to rest on the crook of your neck as you both adjust to the feeling of each other's body.

A moment passes, your walls that had previously been gripping Ajax like a lifeline slowly weaken, finally allowing both of you to relax and begin to experiment.

“I-I’ll start…” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze as if feeling shy, he begins to move around as if to grip the bed’s headboard, all while still inside you, his arms allowing him to cover your body from the world.

As you look up, you realize how he’s become all you see, his imposing frame and coat acting as a curtain blocking the outside from entering your view. Your heart feels heavy but you try and pay it no mind.

The movements are slow and clumsy at first, his cock never truly leaves your warmth fully, his tip always kept inside of your cunt - one way or another. The feeling is strange, you’re not used to the way his length would gaze at your walls or the feeling of the veins on his dick caressing spots inside of you that made you gasp and curl your toes. It’s new and it takes some adjusting before you begin to rock your own hips to meet his, suddenly it begins to feel good, really good in fact. There was something about the stretch, maybe it was the feeling of being so full, the way his cock curved and hit spongy spots in your pussy becomes addicting, or maybe it was the fat vein that decorated the underside of his cock, but it wasn’t long until you’re trying to entice a faster, tougher pace.

He takes his time teasing and easing you into the rhythm of sex, he wouldn’t tell you, but a part of him was scared that if he picked up his pace he wouldn’t be able to stop until you were leaking his cum - not to mention, he wasn’t sure he’d last long if he started to fuck you even faster. The feeling of your walls gripping him was divine, there are moments his thrusts grow unsteady and out of sync, as if his body was trying to take control and allow itself to set the animalistic pace he so desperately wanted, it’s these exact moments where his patience is tested, where he wants nothing more than to pick up your body and use it as a toy to fill with his semen.

“I wan’ more,'' you moan and he freezes as he feels your hips pathetically lift up to meet his heated thrust, your lower region coming up and rolling, rocking, and sloppily caressing his own pelvis in an attempt to suck him deeper into your sex, this was the first time you’d ever experienced such fullness and pleasure, your mind was numb and you’d forgotten all about previous sorrows, you truly wanted to feel more and more until all you could think of was Ajax’s cock and feeling good, “… wan’na feel my… my husband’s c-cock…?!”

At the title, the ginger truly can’t help the way his hips basically crash into yours, it was purely instinctual – just the sound of your calling him yours and acknowledging him as your husband, even if you’d only gotten engaged less than an hour ago, was enough to drive him mad with lust. He feels his head grow dizzy as thoughts of breeding you and claiming you as his take over. It’s as if a switch is turned on because from that moment onwards the atmosphere changed completely.

His previously considerate and soft strokes become harsh and rapid, you can feel your bed move rhythmically with his thrusts, your whole body jolts as he begins to fuck you with the sole goal of filling you so deeply your body was to be conditioned to respond lewdly to his mere presence. They’re deeper too as he now focused on feeling and claiming as much of your hole as possible, it’s impossible not to feel the way his cock imprinted itself deeply inside your body.

Your hands are desperate to grasp onto something, so you clutch at the sheets under you as tightly as possible, your body feels hot and heavy; your legs twitch and you're left gasping as Childe grabs your hips to adjust your position. You’re still lying down but your back arches itself to allow him easy access to your bottom, it’s surprising how easily he’s able to manhandle your body while never quite pulling out, always making sure to insert himself as quickly as he exited, never truly pulling out all of his dick.

The new position allows for him to hurry his pace, you’re soon moving like a rag doll with no control over your limbs. You’re left a moaning, whining mess as your brain struggles to process the waves of pleasure that bloomed from deep inside your pussy.

You feel your heart beating and you can almost hear the sound of your slick pouring out and lubricating your walls, making it increasingly easy to continue the Fatui’s pounding of your cunt. You’re not too sure if you’re even able to talk, the thought of forming a coherent sentence felt farfetched, all that leaves your lips are whines, sounds of pure pleasure and bliss that sound like an orchestra to Ajax.

He’s not doing much better, his vocabulary seems to have been reduced to declarations of ownership over you, boundless love, and immense pleasure. Your name soon becomes the only coherent sound leaving his lips as he lets his head fall back, his body almost working on autopilot as he allows his hips to ram inside you while his hands focus on teasing your nipples and forcing you to face his reddening face. His chest shines with sweat as he makes sure to fill the room with the sound of your skin meeting him and the growing wet mess between your merging bodies.

You’re both soon leaking arousal, Ajax’s cock starts to slowly redden and grow inside of you as he approaches orgasm, drops of precum start to form on the tip, and your torso starts to heat up as it feels heavier the better you feel; your cum is soon coating his dick white, a clear indicator he’d been inside your drooling cunt. You let go of the sheets and bring a hand to your clit, desperate to bring yourself closer to release.

“Ah-! Just like that,” Ajax exclaims, lurching forward as he feels your walls tighten around his cock, “tighten around me like that, fu–uck! I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your pussy, gonna shoot my cum inside you… Haha–hah! You’re… you’re gonna be full with my cum, are you ready?”

You nod mindlessly, too busy playing with your clit and pressing kisses into Ajax’s skin. The feeling of being filled by your childhood sweetheart was intoxicating, it left you an overstimulated mess, moaning and whining as you gripped the man’s shoulders to bring him closer to you.

You couldn’t tell who came first, only that your final push was the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours. Maybe it’s the desperation you felt radiating off him as his tongue caressed your own, the way his hands tighten around your body as he begins unloading his cum begins seeping into your pussy and deep inside your body. You’re a shaking mess as you continue riding your orgasm on his dick, prolonging the pleasurable feeling by rocking your hips into his in an almost shy manner, it’s addicting and you’re left gasping and moaning for more. On the other hand, Ajax was trembling on top of you, his arms seemingly giving out as he collapsed into your body, allowing his head to rest beside your own on your pillows while his cock throbbed and painted your insides with his cum. He gives a few weak thrusts, as if making sure that his balls have been thoroughly emptied, before he looks over at your panting face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, desperately trying to calm your heart down into a stable rhythm, while your body twitches in a post-orgasm afterglow. You’re sweating, your eyes shut tight as you feel your pussy swell around Ajax’s dick, which was very much still inside you, and grow sensitive. Even in this state, where you’re too shaken to do anything other than breathe and try to relax your body, he thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

His hand, which trembled ever so slightly, travels to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. He subconsciously traces your ring-finger, trying to estimate your size, you’d accepted his proposal, going as far as acknowledging him as your husband, it was now his responsibility to find a suitable ring for you, one worthy of resting on your fingers.

He smiles, cuddling deep into your bare skin, pressing his softening cock deeper into you, which earns him a soft whine from you, essentially plugging his semen inside your pussy.

“… I love you, Ajax.” You mumble, eyes still closed shut, your voice drowsy and far away as exhaustion slowly catches up to you. Today had been hard on you, physically and mentally, you’d learnt more than you’d wished to have known, your relationship with those around you now forever changed; you’d agreed to marry your childhood friend in response to your parents’ betrayal, you’d given up your virginity to him and now laid in bed, struggling to know if you’d made the right decisions. An inner turmoil was growing inside you, a storm of emotions you were not ready to deal with, but right now, as you lay beneath the man who’d promised to save you, you decide to rest and let him take care of it, for now. Your breathing slows down, your body finally succumbing to sleep.

You’re too tired to hear the sound of the front door unlocking, your mother’s voice booming across the house as she calls out for you as she ushers your father and guests inside your family house. Ajax makes no move to leave your bed or even remove himself from inside of you, not even as he recognizes the distinct sound of footsteps that belonged to your parents moving around downstairs, grinnin softly as he hears your mother call out for you again, while your father talked to someone and merrily laughed, joking around, easing the tension of the first meeting between two people set up in an arranged marriage – where only one of them knew.

He can hear your parents talking, making an excuse at where you were, he can hear your mother climb up the stairs, he can hear her getting closer to your room.

What a lousy move, he thought to himself, to ambush you one day and try to dump the news on top of you like this, you didn’t even seem aware of guests coming over to your home at all, he frowned; he had expected more of uncle and auntie. Alas, he’d long since given up on them, he just hopes your mother doesn’t scream too loudly when she sees you two in bed together.

He’d hate for you to wake up to such an awful shriek.

There’s a knock on your door, Ajax smiles but makes no move to answer, and then another as your mother calls out your name. She sighs before threatening to open the door, Ajax has to stifle a giggle, pressing his lips into your shoulder to not let out any noise, too afraid to ruin the surprise for his soon to be mother-in-law, she hears no response, she clearly feels agitated and annoyed, he can hear it the way she knocks once more with a stern calling of your name.

There’s a second of silence before the door is swung open.

Ajax looks over to your mother, his coat covering both your naked forms enough that a semblance of modesty is kept but not enough that what happened between the two of you was misunderstood, it would be clear to anyone who could walk in, and he smiles, leaning his body into your own, further embracing you and pushing your sleeping face into his chest, he rolls over as a playful wave is sent her way, she stands frozen in place. Your bottom halves are still covered by the oversized coat, but the bruises and bites that litter your bodies are enough to paint a picture, his hand moves to caress your body, a smug smile takes over his features as he watches your mother try to come up with the right words to say.

“Hello, ma’am,” his tone is playful but the look on his face is one of pure venom, she looks beyond flustered but isn’t able to say a word; too shaken by the sight, the combination of her daughter and a man in bed together and the Harbinger’s insignia that seemed to shine with even the smallest movements from the ginger was enough to send her stumbling back, “it’s been a while, we have a lot to catch up on, huh?”

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