#But man... The way they were basically within arm's reach
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- The Forbidden Fruit
Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC
A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.
Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )
AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)
Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl.
Unfortunately you were no different.
In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you.
Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover.
But no.
Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel.
He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked.
And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday.
Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde.
In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest.
But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin.
Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either.
And today was no different.
“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed.
He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others.
You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return.
“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s.
“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling.
“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”
“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way.
But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard.
He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better.
‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘
He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself.
He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh.
“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “
You.
He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you.
“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks.
He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch.
And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away.
But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors.
“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you.
Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men.
“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged.
“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “
“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “
You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours.
“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company.
You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both.
“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods.
“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little.
“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “
“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away.
“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “
“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another.
“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette.
“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you.
Someone was finally listening.
“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were.
He blamed it on his fatigue.
“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been.
“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “
He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked.
“ Really? “
“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”
“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours.
“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded.
“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “
“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded.
“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen.
The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him.
He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done.
“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were.
Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman.
“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank.
“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “
Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.
Oh he was such a fool.
“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little.
“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “
His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.
“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.
You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it.
“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “
“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest. His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment.
How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you.
“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “
“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again.
He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice.
He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more.
Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating.
Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his.
“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless.
“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face.
“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “
He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you.
You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which.
You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain.
But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch.
He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought.
“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt.
He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night.
“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly.
“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants.
“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates.
He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous.
He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon.
He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted.
“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough.
“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now.
Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t.
“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “
“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you.
You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water.
“ well ain’t you a sight “
Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch.
He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them.
“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care.
“ I ain’t like that “
“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants.
He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison.
“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.
“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved.
“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw.
“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “
His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were.
“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it.
But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did.
“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make.
“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance.
“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle
“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “
“ no “
“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked.
“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him.
“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again.
You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you.
And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to.
“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs.
“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you.
He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other.
“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate.
“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew.
But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted.
And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired.
The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it.
You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him.
His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined.
He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips.
“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first.
He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars.
The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well.
Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair.
“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks.
“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “
He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once.
Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell.
“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “
He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra.
And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.
“ Arthur- “
Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little.
He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers.
He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted.
“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips.
Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly.
“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “
“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.
He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it.
But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back.
“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “
“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him.
You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “
He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily.
“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh.
“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might.
“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch.
He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm.
“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you.
“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing.
“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed.
He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him.
“ god- oh god “
“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.
“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “
He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again.
If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there.
But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide.
He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it.
“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up.
“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours.
“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “
“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you.
He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep.
“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked.
“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “
“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word.
“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “
Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans.
He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.
He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever.
And then he came to his senses.
“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist.
“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours.
“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more.
“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers.
After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips.
He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least.
“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “
“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more.
“ you know, i might just take you up on that “
He sincerely hoped you would.
#ask and ye shall receive#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 community#rdr2 fanfic#x you#background Dutch van der Linde x reader#fluff#dutch van der linde#Arthur Morgan smut#john marston#javier escuella#Sadie Adler#arthur morgan rdr2#van der linde gang
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Falling asleep on HP boys₊˚ʚ ₊
Notes: Fluff, really really soft, no mentions of smut/violence, takes place during goblet of fire, established friendship
Summary: basically just hp boys crushing over you
Characters: Harry potter (the man the myth the legend), Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy
A/N: when I was making this header i was somewhat giggling bc Draco is the only one smiling while ron and harry look so serious
*ੈੈੈ♡ Harry
After babbling for hours upon hours about quidditch and other topics that Harry just couldn't keep himself from spewing about, the thoughts that kept Harry's mind off of the tantalizing task of opening the shiny egg, you finally began to feel drowsy
A sense of relief washed over you once Harry finally took a much needed breath and paused, yet sadly for you he took that relief away from you again, but before he engulfed himself too much into his one-sided conversation, he realized how droopy your eyelids were becoming, how your breathing was so calm and quiet, and how your head suddenly started leaning closer and closer onto his shoulder until he couldn't do anything about it.
Harry softly whispered, "Sorry, y/n...I must bore you quite a bit"
Your eyes lightly fluttered open, "Not at all, Harry, I love your voice" you said in a quiet whisper
Harry couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not, he never thought such a simple compliment could have resonated so deeply within his heart. Harry of course got attention and praise, but when you did so he felt himself practically melting, he loved you dearly. And you knew it.
You closed your eyes again, moving your hand closer to his until he carefully put his hand on top of yours. The silence was almost comforting, just knowing you were both safe and together eased Harry's troubled mind.
In the end, you both fell asleep and it was an adorable sight to Ron and Hermione, they made sure to gently tease you two about it the next day♡
₊˚⊹♡ Ron
Ron absolutely loves cuddling with you, seeing you comfy and buried in a soft blanket practically melts his heart to the core
So he isn't surprised that by the time he's done ranting to you about how his day went, you were just about to fall into a deep slumber (that might I say was much needed)
Ron got extremely smug once you laid your head onto his shoulder, it was like a scene out of one of those muggle movies, so romantic
Ron did give a soft yet endearing laugh when you reached for his hand, saying, "Oh, darling, do you need sum'fin?"
That was Ron's way of saying "something"
Your eyes slightly widened at the sweet nickname, but you just wanted more of his affection at this point
You gave him a weak pouting face before he gently held your hand
Ron on the exterior was smug but that wasn't the case for what he was feeling. His heart was racing at an abnormal level, he found his breath hitching and his eyes trying to find anything to look at but you - mostly because he was so incredibly flustered
You both fell fast asleep, Harry and Hermione couldn't help but think you two were adorable and that made Ron very flustered
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Draco
Draco was mumbling to you, you were so exhausted you could barely tell what he was saying at this point but you were able to make out Draco saying
"Pottah is insufferable"
Or something else about "stewpid pottah", you couldn't care less at this rate. Your exhaustion started taking over you, you unintentionally started leaning towards Draco's shoulder - which was looking quite comfortable
At first Draco was extremely apprehensive and flicked your forehead to which you swatted his arm, in the end he gave you his "you're an insufferable idiot" look, yet still let you rest on him
Draco's heart was pounding, it felt as though it was about to explode it was racing so fast. Although he kept up his cold exterior, even around you, he couldn't help but melt at your touch
Your warm and soft hand met his cold and tired hands, he flinched at first but realizing you were fast asleep already (so he couldn't lecture you about being "so idiotic", even though you had better grades than he ever did) he just gently placed his hand atop yours
Draco's eyes were lost in exploring you, he never realized how beautiful you were, being this close Draco took the opprotunity to let his eyes wander you for a bit, it was as though he was memorizing every bit of you. He ruffled your hair, gently and ever so endearingly, then his eyes met your lips - and oh my you made him go mad, psychotic even. Draco wanted to kiss you ever so badly, he wanted your lips to crash onto his, alas he knew you could never like him, well at least romantically (or so he thought).
Draco was teased almost all morning having been caught cuddling with you by Pansy, but he didn't care. Draco was replaying that night with you almost constantly, hoping that it would happen again - every night.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading these little skits, and have a good day ♡
#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x reader#draco malfoy x you#draco x reader#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x reader#ron weasley#ron weasley x reader#ron weasley x y/n#ron weasley x you#draco malfoy#harry potter
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could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>
pls and ty 🙏🏻
Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic
a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):(
Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it.
TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.
Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.
You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.
At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.
What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.
Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.
Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.
Knowing that gave him… fantasies.
Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.
Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.
Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.
Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.
Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.
Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated <3
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#velvetures writes#velvetures#anon answered#anon <3#anon ask
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Hugo was sitting in front of the screen after a hard day's work, exhausted by all the requests he had to take answer today and by the Parisian trains who ran late again. He was just happy to be able to relax now that he was home.
At first he was only browsing through the web, scanning his favourite channels for something new, podcasts, video games, commentaries, anything that would bring him some kind of enjoyment. That's when he saw a picture that caught his attention and stirred something between his legs. The image of a jock flexing in a gym. Hugo had to admit it, he had a type. He couldn't resist clicking on the thumbnail and landing on a website filled with images of big muscular men showing off their bodies. Most of them were flexing, straining their shirts and shorts, grinning and chuckling dumbly while having seemingly a great time. He browsed through the page mesmerised by what he saw, soon giving in to his wants in needs as the pictures didn't seem to end, each jock more handsome than the other. The cock that was resting in his boxer stirred and hardened, his hand reaching for the bulge hidden by his clothes. He laid back lazily in his gamer chair, his right hand pushing the buttons on his mouse as his left hand stroked lustfully his cock. He was getting so hard, harder than he has ever been while locking at all those stereotypical American jocks. All these dudes had awoken something deep within him, beyond need and want, a pleasure so great he slowly forgot his surroundings, not caring if anyone could see him from the windows. It was like Hugo was in trance, his basic functions controlled by his lust as he slowly pushed down his jeans and kicked them off to the corner of the room, moaning as the fabric rubbed against the tip of his cock, thicker than ever.
Hugo didn't look at all like the men flexing on his screen, he was smaller than average and lacked the muscular definition he so much craved. Even though his face was handsome in a typical southern french way, it lacked the handsome sharpness of the jocks he was now masturbating to. The tip of his cock leaked a considerable amount of precum as he stroked it again and again, unable to keep his eyes off the screen. He was so so hard, harder than ever, breathing in loudly as he went up and down his inflated dick, wishing to be able to stroke the big arms and legs of the many dudes flexing on his screens. Hugo had given up on rational thinking as the website had locked him in some kind of mind bending hypnosis. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to be just like them, dumb and horny.
A new need arose inside Hugo. A spasm in his arms. A tickling in his hand that spread to his face. A light chuckle escaped his lips. The French man flexed, and it felt beyond any pleasure he had ever felt. His cock grew even harder and leakier, staining his black boxers. He flexed again while looking at another dude on the website. Just like him. This was so hot. He never was this horny. And it felt right, so right. Hugo pushed his boxers down to his knees, letting his hard rock member stand straight towards the screen to flex both of his arms like showing off, not noticing as his dick got even bigger, matching the size of the dude he was looking at. He was just too preoccupied by his arms. It was like with each strain of the muscle they got thicker. Nitin a pudgy way, but in hard and handsome one. Again, he lifted his arms to show off, and again, they grew just a little bit. His hands tingled as they grow, sending shivers through his core and to his cock, more precum leaking of the tip as he flexed again.
That's all he had to, not think and flex, again and again. Another chuckle left his mouth, deeper and dumber as his eyes grew dull. Hugo turned around a bit as his core thickened. Biceps bulging and arms lengthened with his back as all grew and expanded in every direction. His position shifted and he spread his legs as his ass inflated to become just as hard and big as the rest of his body. It was so hot to watch his body grow and change, enough for him to lower both hands toward his stomach to feel the skin heating up and muscle thickening there as well.
By now he must have grown by a foot, feeling parts of his back strain as he explored every inch of his upper body, soon his hands met his face, feeling the bones and skin shifting under his palms as the entire structure changed. If he'd been able to look at himself he would have noticed how his European looks had left him to be replaced by something more foreign, a perfect replica of the many faces he had seen today. Hugo now looked more like your typical American jock, his hair shortening ever so slightly as he bit his lips.
His left hand reached for his cock again, the skin receding to become cut as more precum leaked from the tip and covered his hand. It smelled strong and masculine, making his lust and desire grow even. Hugo, or Dan, brought his feet together to ruboner against the other, moanin as the soles grew and stretched, thinning the cloth until it itself started to transform. The material thickened again and lightened until it was pure white, the white pieces of clothes growing up his calves, stretching again as the muscle of his legs bulged. Dan looked at his muscular feet draped in white socks, still rubbing one foot against the other, watching his bigger toes wriggle at the end of each. Soon his thighs ballooned out, stretching the synthetic cloth of his boxers as they changed to his new size too, becoming as white as the new pair of socks the American jock wore. He came hard, spraying his seed all over his desk and screen as his previous life left him. A new picture appeared on the website. One of him flexing, then another one of him with his dick in hand, thick spurts of precum leaking out of him with the caption "hot American jock from California."
Dan didn't mind the attention, quite enjoying the attention he was receiving. He thought about opening an only fan as he cleaned himself, maybe once he came back from his exchange program in France.
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kaiser, before this sight in front of him, was certain he carried all the crazy in this relationship.
looking at what you were doing right now, he realized he was apparently wrong.
“darling, what are you doing?” he questioned, his curiosity piqued.
“practicing my WAG cheer and clap,” you replied nonchalantly.
“your what?”
“if you make me repeat it, you'll find your pillow on the couch tonight,” you warned, sparing him a glance.
so, this is serious business.
“alright, i heard you. but why are you trying to mimic them?” he inquired, referring to the women you were watching on tv, seemingly seated on the sidelines of an NBA game, clapping like they intended to make no sound by how close their hands were.
fed up with his questions, you darted towards him. in your hand, you held your phone, containing a photo taken during one of his recent games. it captured the moment he scored a goal, with you in the background, caught up in the fervor of the crowd, jumping and screaming with unbridled joy.
kaiser never thought he had a favorite photo of you until this one.
“look at that!” you exclaimed, thrusting the phone into his hands before returning to the couch where you were initially situated.
“i look like one of your crazy fans, bouncing and screaming like that! you could basically see the entirety of my mouth by my scream! and i look like i won a multi-million lottery jackpot!” you continued to rant.
“that’s because you're proud of your man, baby,” kaiser reassured you with an amused smile.
“but i want to look chic! nonchalant! while i’m at it! twitter people are calling this photo ‘crazy fan behavior,’ mihya!” you protested.
kaiser couldn't help but chuckle at your outburst. he found this whole WAG thing incredibly adorable of you. “come here, please?”
you slowly approached your boyfriend from the kitchen counter he was leaning on. now that you had calmed down, you finally noticed that he had just gotten out of the shower, wearing nothing but his sweatpants. his tattoo was on full display, captivating your eyes.
cheeky bastard, as always.
once you were within arm's reach, kaiser wrapped his arms around your waist, turning you around to face away from him. he held you in a warm embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and down your shoulders as if he was inhaling your essence.
“you know i wouldn't have it any other way,” he mumbled against your skin.
“really?” you softly ask, the tension dissipating from your mind. your focus shifted to the warm body pressed against your back and the sensation of his large hands kneading your hips.
“definitely, baby,” he replied, his voice low and hoarse, while peppering your nape with soft, lingering kisses. his hands slid sensually along the curves of your waist, pulling you closer to him. “when i look at your seat after a goal, i always look forward to seeing you like this. it makes me feel as if i have the energy of a hundred men when you cheer for me. so, you don't need this, hmm?”
“okay…” you whispered, no longer concerned about your previous intentions. your senses were now fully occupied by your lover.
“besides," he continued, his tone slightly teasing, “you did win a multi-million jackpot when you had me.”
you sighed. of course, he needs to mention that. “you really know how to ruin a moment.”
“come on! i'm worth that much!” he retorted, his smirk audible in his voice.
you couldn't help but smile, his playful banter lifting your spirits. “yeah, still. eat the rich.”
“well, i wouldn't say no to that, darling.”
“oh my god! michael kaiser!”
“i’m just saying!”
your boyfriend really knows how to ruin a moment, but still, you wouldn't have him any other way.
WAG = wife and gfs of high-profile pro athletes (but this is gn!reader oki) and if you know the WAG cheer and clap, that means we have weird tiktok fyps, no i will not elaborate.
note. here, take my insanity. i did not know what made me write this man in FLUFF (sighs i don't know who i am anymore) but it needs to leave me alone. jk, just testing things out for my milestone event hehe <3 this is slightly suggestive, btw!
#☁️ my ode to you#q'd post#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser imagines#kaiser x reader#kaiser imagines#michael kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser x you#bllk x y/n#bllk x you#bllk x reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#michael kaiser#blue lock fluff
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Come Back - Daniel Ricciardo
<word count - 663>
Yet again, another morning that you had to get out of bed. It may have been winter break for Daniel, but not for you. You still had to work. The sun had just barely risen as you checked the clock on your bedside table. 7:00.
You clambered out of bed, hearing a grumble from behind you. "Baby, come back..." Daniel mumbled, patting the empty space beside him. He opened one eye to peek at you as you stood in the doorway and looked at him.
"I've got to go," you chuckled as he rubbed his eyes, even if he was still half asleep.
"No you don't, come back," he whined, opening his arms to you as a signal to snuggle back up with him. He had always maintained that you could quit your job and he'd pay for you to live, but you liked having a sense of independence.
"I'll be back later," you smiled, turning to walk downstairs. Behind you, you heard the rustling of the sheets and footsteps on the wooden flooring. "Go back to bed, Daniel," you laughed, knowing he'd just come and sit in the kitchen with you and beg you not to leave.
"No," he flatly stated, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and stopping you in your tracks. "You're not going," he said into your ear, then pressed his face into the crook of your neck as the two of you stood there.
"I've got to go," you reiterated, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was to no avail. "Daniel, come on, love," you tried to coax him off, but he still wasn't for budging.
"Staying in bed with me for five more minutes won't make you late," he mumbled against your neck, knowing you'd cave eventually. But you feared that if you went back to bed, you really wouldn't end up going to work.
You sighed, leaning back against his chest. "Is that a yes?" he asked, and you could feel his triumphant smirk against your skin.
"Yeah, it's a yes to five more minutes," you told him. Within the blink of an eye, he had picked you up bridal style and started walking you back to your bedroom. "I can walk myself, you know," you chuckled, snaking your arms around his neck.
"Why should you walk when I can carry you? Besides, I like having you in my arms," he plainly stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You just shook your head, thinking that you probably should have guessed that that would be his answer.
Gently placing you back down in bed, he wasted no time with crawling in beside you and pulling you as close to him as he possibly could. He tugged the covers over the two of you, and instantly felt much more content and calm.
"Your five minutes has begun," you told him, and he just grunted in response. That basically meant he hadn't listened to a word you said. Well, he had selective hearing at times, and now was one of them. He would simply choose to ignore your countdown.
The feeling of having him right there next to you was wonderful, and you couldn't think of anything that would make you more comfortable. It was the feeling of pure safety, contentment, the feeling of home.
You shuffled to reach for your phone on the bedside table. "No, it's barely been a minute," he scolded, tugging you back.
"I'm calling in sick," you told him, and his arms loosened around you, but he still kept his hands on your waist.
"That's my girl," he smiled, glad that his plans had worked. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew he'd get you to stay home with him one way or another. Now, you'd get to spend the rest of your day, lounging around with the man you loved, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
A/N - I have finished Reckless Driving, What A Shame Part 2 (a request), two more Lando things, one Charles thing and a... Wait for it... Charlos thing. I couldn't help myself. I've been doing this thing over the past few weeks where I've just written little bits when I have time, and it's wracked up into all this being finished. But recently, my down time hasn't been watching TV or whatever, it's been writing. Henceforth, you've seen a little more from me. This is just a short little thing I felt like whipping up, so hope you enjoyed. Requests are open as usual.
Also, can we just appreciate the beauty of this beige mum looking ass header? I can't lie, I kinda love it. Not quite as good as the one I did for Watch Your Mouth, in my opinion, but it's still pretty nice. Anyway, love you lots, have a brilliant day/night, and stay safe 💖
|masterlist|
#f1#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagines#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 x you#f1 x y/n#fluff#formula 1 x y/n#daniel ricciardo x y/n#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo imagines#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo#dr3 x reader#dr3 x y/n#dr3 x you#dr3 imagines#dr3 fluff
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Jealous Jealous Boy
alright here's the lando fic I promised. thanks to those that voted in the poll!
He was fuming. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. His fists clenched into balls at his side. His face twisted up with a sour look. It was all going according to plan. This was his karma.
This was not how you had envisioned your night going. You had started the night glued to your boyfriend, Lando. You both were yearning for a fun night dancing with your friends after a stressful race week. But here you were. On opposite ends of the bar mad at each other. If only he had kept his cheeky mouth shut.
Within an hour of the night, Lando had basically overindulged himself. Meaning…. His mouth doesn’t shut and he has no idea what’s coming out of it. What had happened was just a simple, stupid comment. But he made it and thought about it and that’s what stung. It was a comment about your new dress. You had already felt self conscious in it since it was more risque than usual. While sitting with your friends, Lando looks at another girl and points rather loudly, “Look babe! That girl’s dress is way prettier for you than what you have on! Ask her where she got it!”. You could feel your face melting off as the whole group’s eyes turned to you. That’s when you push him off your shoulders and stomped to the bar currently placing us in the current situation….
Knowing his eyes were on you, you continue to chat with the random guy at the bar. That’s when you feel his hand go lower and lower towards your bum. Suddenly, you hear chairs scrape across the bar as Lando and his friends sprang up from their seats and rushed towards you and the touchy rando. Before the boys reach you, your hand snatches the bar mans and throws it off your body. You pick up your drink and splash him in the face with your spicy margarita. The boys freeze to a stop doubling over with laughter. The random man wipes his face, nods, and walks away. Maybe a bit harsh coming from you but he had no right!
Lando slides next to you and gives you an uneasy smile. Holding his hands up he says, “Please ma’am don’t murder me with a margarita!”. You can’t help but give in and laugh. But then his comment comes back to your mind and you feel nauseous again. Lando can see the change in emotions and drops his head into his hands.
“Y/n, please don’t be mad at me. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I could tell you didn’t love being in this dress and I just wanted you to feel comfortable.” He explains. “Not that you don’t look…. absolutely beautiful. I can just tell this isn’t you”. His eyes meet yours and you see his genuineness. He knew you, he really did. He could tell you felt uncomfortable when you were too afraid to admit it yourself.
“I wanted to try something new”, you squeak. “I wanted to show you I could be like all those model girls that constantly stalk around the paddock”. You shield your eyes embarrassed by your admission.
“Oh y/n! You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I don’t need to see you in a super short dress to know that. Not that I’m complaining!”, he laughs. You look at him and smile. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you plead for him to take you home.
Being the gentleman he could be, he crouches down and scoops you up. Taking you home to get you into something more comfortable…. or should I say out.
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*･ﾟi won't go anywhere, it'll be alright ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ
𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹you're in the palm of my hand, it'll be alright ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
☾₊ ⊹ my arms are wrapped around you, it'll be alright ₊ ⊹ ⟡
lovemaking || 442 words || lee donghyuck
! possessiveness, praise and dacryphilia !
"i got you..." donghyuck whispers into your ear, pressing your body into the soft sheets of your hotel room. hands that were previously holding onto your waist now stroking up your body and grabbing your hands with gentle force as donghyuck's hips sink into yours, the lovely tunes surrounding you almost bringing you to tears.
"so perfect for me..." he mumbles, sighing breathlessly at the way you're wrapped around him, squeezing him as if pulling him deeper inside. "for me, and all for me..."
he is in love with you, undeniably and unconditionally in love with you, constantly craving your touch and attention, and he feels the desperate need to show you, to prove it to you, to make sure you know he is the only man for you. and he does, his hips stuttering into yours, length dragging deliciously along your walls to hit your sweet spot over and over again, milking the sweetest sounds from your throat.
donghyuck knows exactly how to touch you, the countless times you've spend rolling and sprawling in the sheets together, he knows your body like his own, fingers teasing every single spot, every mound and every crevice he knows will send you to heaven.
"you're mine... mine and only mine, and i want you to feel it, baby," donghyuck grunts softly, "i want you to cry for me... show me how much this means to you."
and as tears drip down your cheeks at the sheer depths of pleasure, the overwhelming warmth of his body on yours and the sweet tearing in your chest of pure love and emotions, donghyuck kisses you so passionately you lose a bit of yourself within the silky sheets.
his eye contact is intense but comforting nonetheless as his body rocks into yours, pace quickening as his hands grab your wrists and your waist once again, bodies colliding faster and faster, sweat dripping, moans echoing through the room that reeks of love and sex.
the friction reaches new highs, donghyuck is deeper than anyone was ever before, his lips nibbling at your neck as your eyes roll into the back of your skill, back arching into his thrusts, chest meeting his, your heart whining for his touch, wanting more, more, more –
until, with deep groans and desperate moans, the merged sweet nectar of lovemaking drips into the white fabric beneath you as you release at the same time, heartbeat resonating in your ears, your breathing so hard it almost tears your lungs, but once you share a new kiss, so sweet and almost too innocent for the depths of pleasure you just explored, you know that this is forever.
a/n: 30 seconds into haechan's weverse live and this little thingy basically wrote itself!
© 2024 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.
#lee haechan smut#haechan smut#lee donghyuck smut#donghyuck smut#kpop#smut#nct#kpop smut#nct fanfic#nct dream#nct x reader#nct dream smut#nct 127#haechan x reader smut#neohub
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hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part two (m).
pairing ; roman roy x f!reader
synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.
words ; 32.0k
themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers
warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, talks of sexual misconduct (cruises incidents), mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, phone sex & a handjob, degradation, roman’s implied demisexuality, reader's got a tooth motif bcs all the other roy sibs have their own motifs, a lot of morally grey shit
series masterlist. main masterlist.
The Roy’s summer home in the Hamptons was nothing short of grand. That was always the bare minimum for the family, after all. Though you had been preoccupied with work, having a lot piled up because of your time off for Shiv’s wedding—you had dropped quite a few important meetings to come at Logan’s behest. He called for you, and for all his children, to come to the Hamptons and discuss his plans to sell the company.
You stepped into the home, hands buried within your pockets. Immediately, you were hit by an overwhelmingly foul stench. It smelled an awful lot like rotten meat and, strangely, the piss-sodden alleyways in New York. Your face twisted into a grimace as you strode in, finding Kendall wandering aimlessly downstairs.
“Hey, uh, hi,” he said, awkwardly reaching for a hug when you stuck your arm out for a handshake. The both of you gingerly stepped away from each other.
“What’s that smell?” you asked, knowing full and well that Roman and Shiv were still quite angry with him for basically stabbing them in the back.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I think they’re trying to figure that out,” he replied, waving his hands around to gesture to the milling workers. “You, uhm, you’ll get used to it. Listen, Y/N, I know you and Rome are close, so I just wanted to ask if you could… talk to him. For me.”
Arching a brow, you tilted your head. “You can’t talk to him yourself?”
“He’s not… he’s being difficult right now.”
“Understandably so.”
There was a melancholic look to his eyes. “I know. Can you just tell him I’m sorry? I want… I want us to be okay.”
Pursing your lips, you gave him a firm nod. “Okay, yeah, sure. No promises that it’d change anything, though. You know where he is?”
“By the beach. With Shiv.”
With a hum of farewell, you started backing off, making your way to the sandy shores not too far from the house. You spotted their figures in the distance, bundled in dark coats and long scarves. When they spotted you approaching, the both of them waved.
“Hey, guys,” you greeted, smiling brightly.
“Hey, fuck-face,” said Roman, giving you a quick hug, before stepping back to allow Shiv to do the same. “We were all waiting for you.”
“Sorry I’m late—work has been kicking my ass lately.”
Snorting, Roman quipped, “You know you can take a couple days to relax, right? I’m literally your boss.”
“I’m a general manager, Rome. If I stop, that’s a large chunk of Waystar down. I’m trying to keep the company from sinking further into the depths of hell,” you said lightly, crossing your arms. “But it seems like Logan wants to sell it away. What’s our viewpoint?”
The both of them struggled for words.
“If the selling isn’t actually real… like some kind of fucked-up loyalty test, we were just talking about how dad’s going to kill Kendall,” said Shiv, looking none too upset about the prospect. “How that would mean it could be Rome who takes up the mantle.”
That made sense. Connor was not an option, not in Logan’s eyes. He was barely a son to the man, much less the heir to his legacy.
“It could,” you said, careful. “It could also mean you, though.”
Both you and Roman stared Shiv down.
Finally, she caved and shook her head with a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Yes, it could be me.”
Sensing that the two of them were on the verge of another catfight, you quickly intercepted, “I bumped into Kendall in the house just now. He wanted me to, uhm, tell you that he’s sorry.”
Roman’s features twisted. “Well, tell him he can stick his apologies up his ass.”
“I’m not a fucking messenger! Tell him that yourself.”
Rolling her eyes, Shiv jerked her head back to the house. “We should probably get back inside. Dad’s gonna be here any minute by now.”
It was on your trek back that the three of you bumped into Kendall, who was wearing sunglasses even though the sky wasn’t all that visible through the gloomy clouds. Both Shiv and Roman didn’t hesitate to duke out their frustrations on him, asking why he changed his mind on the takeover so quickly.
“You do realize how fucked you’re going to be once you’re no longer of any use to him, right?” asked Roman to his older brother. “He’s got you eating fuckin’ humiliation gumbo on TV, and then what? Nothing.”
Snickering, Shiv added in, “Dad’s gonna play a merry tune on you and then throw you out the fucking window. You know that, right?”
“He’s like a sex robot for dad to fuck,” said Rome.
“He’s like a beaten dog.”
“He’s both of those things—and also a piece of shit.”
To your surprise, Kendall stood by and took all the insults his siblings lobbied at him, expression permanently fixed into one of unadulterated misery. A part of you felt bad for him, but another part of you knew he’d brought this upon himself.
Shiv stepped closer to him, each one of her words saturated in venom. “He’s a fucking narcissist who repeatedly puts his self-interest above everything else, and then tries to justify it with half-assed appeals of the rigors of the fucking market.”
“You’re a fucking prick,” Roman finally tacked on after Shiv’s mini-monologue. He glanced over at you. “Y/N, you wanna throw a punch?”
“What were you thinking, Kendall?” you quietly asked. “In what world did you see yourself winning against your father? And even if you did win, it’d be at the cost of your siblings. Would you kill them for your own personal gain? And not to mention that you relapsed and you’re not getting the help you need. You didn’t even thank Roman and I for picking you up from that addict’s shithole. We got you out of there because we were worried for you. We care about you. And you threw that right back in his face.”
Your words lingered heavily between the four of you.
When Kendall remained as silent as a statue, Roman let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes to the side. “Come on! Fight back, you fuck-bag.”
“Guys, I just… I…” Kendall paused to look off into the waters. “I can’t get into it.”
“Oh, you can’t get into it? Shucks,” Roman mocked. “Fuck you. Come on, man. Treat us! Why did you actually back out?”
Shame flooded his features. He completely disregarded Roman’s question by telling his little sister, “I’m sorry, Shiv. About the wedding.”
There were tears in her eyes. Her father had made her cry after ruining family therapy, and now her older brother was making her cry after ruining her wedding.
“How dare you apologize to me?” she asked, a sharp edge to her tone. With that, she rotated on her heel and strode off.
You and Roman followed after her, your arm linked with his.
“You look like shit, by the way,” Roman murmured to his brother as he brushed past him.
By the time you got back to the house, you caught sight of the cooks dumping the expensive food they’d been preparing and laboring over for hours straight into the trash. When you wondered aloud what was going on, one of them quietly answered that they’d found the source of the smell—a dead raccoon covered in maggots, rotting in the chimney. Logan demanded all the food be removed because it’d been sitting around in the stench, calling for pizza to be ordered instead.
When lunch rolled around, you sat between Roman and Kendall, feeling incredibly tense. The atmosphere between the siblings had yet to clear, and you weren’t quite sure if it ever would. The chatter died away when Logan cleared his throat sharply to quell the commotion and greet the family.
He began with a blunt address of the bear hug situation, which you noticed made Kendall’s foot tap against the floor in agitation.
“I guess the question is… do we really want this fight?” he asked. “Or is now the moment to cash in and fuck off out of the casino?”
Silence. He was met with dead silence.
“If we do fight, I need to tell the board who I want to take over,” said Logan. “So, please—I want you to speak freely.”
His words made Shiv tip her head back and scoff-laugh. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law?”
“Come on! We’re pals here. Let’s fuckin’ have it out!” gruffed Logan as he surveyed the table.
As if to purposefully push her father’s buttons, Shiv crossed her arms and pointedly kept her mouth shut.
Tentative, Kendall spoke, “I think you should fight, but, uh… you’re the one who built it all. The man, the myth, the legend.”
In a condescending tone, Roman crooned, “Aw. That’s adorable. You’re always lookin’ out for Pops, aren’t you?”
“But is he saying Dad should stay on because that’s what Sandy and Stewy would want?” asked Connor with a frown, ever the conspiracist. “How do we know he’s not a double agent?”
“Nice to see you, too, Con,” mumbled Kendall.
Shaking his head, the older brother said, “Hey, Ken, I’m just saying what others are thinking.”
“It’s possible,” Shiv added, narrowing her eyes.
“Should we frisk him for a wire? Burn him? See if he’s a witch?” joked Roman, scratching at the back of his head.
Interrupting the banter, Logan said, “He’s taken his medicine.”
“Taken his medicine?” Shiv parroted in an affronted manner. “Is that it? Dad—you beat Roman with a fucking slipper in Gustav until he cried for ordering lobster, remember? And Kendall tries to kill you and he’s only five minutes out in the cold?”
You remembered that day. When you’d casually told Roman that you preferred lobster over crab. How he tried to order it for you instead of what was already on the table, and how an already ticked-off Logan was tipped over the edge and lost his shit, taking his frustrations out on Roman. The memory of the actual beating itself was hazy—all you could recall were thuds and muffled whimpers, fearful tears on your cheeks. The purple bruises on his face didn’t fade away for a long while. He would try to joke about it, but you never found it funny. You had apologized over and over again, until Roman told you to shut up and forget about it, nonchalantly adding that he wanted the lobster, too. That it wasn’t just for you.
But it was. It was all yours, had Roman been successful in acquiring the crustacean for you. You didn’t need to know that, though.
Trying his best to shrug off Shiv’s words, Roman tilted his head to the side and quipped, “Well, it’s not polite to order the most expensive item on the menu when you’re not paying, Siobhan.”
Logan could dump a billion dollars into an incinerator and that would barely even make a dent on how much wealth he was hoarding, you wanted to say. You kept your mouth firmly shut, biting down on your tongue.
As per typical Logan fashion, he brushed off the call-out of his abuse to his son. “We’re not doing memory lane here. Come on, spit it out. What do you all think? Stick or sell?”
“Well, I think you’re in the prime of your life,” chimed Tom. “I think another decade is just what the doctor ordered.”
From beside you, Roman’s knee nudged into yours as he began miming choking on a dick. You smiled, almost laughing out loud, but caught yourself before you did.
“I, uhm, I think selling seems cool…” began Willa.
“Hey, Dad, Willa thinks selling seems cool!” snorted Roman, which made Willa fall uncomfortably silent.
With a disapproving stare, Connor bit out, “Asshole.”
“You,” said Logan. It took you a moment to realize that he was staring directly at you. Heat prickled at the back of your neck. “What do you think?”
You sat up straighter in your chair. “You’ll be rich enough to live a thousand lives if you sell. You’ll still be rich enough to do so if you stay in the game. The only difference is, you lose your legacy if you go with the former.”
Scrutinizing you, Logan dipped his head and took a sip of champagne. “Mmh, wise words, sure. Not your opinion, though. Not what I asked for. Those are just facts we all fuckin’ know. Bah—don’t waste my time. Fucking useless. Leeching off of me while your parents are parading in a nameless exotic country, drinking their brains into toxic liquid that leaks out of their ears.”
Shame curled within your stomach, and a blistering flush spidered through your skin. You could feel all eyes on you, including Roman’s. You were no stranger to Logan’s verbal abuse, but it’d been a long time since he brought up your parents' and their neglectful nature. The wounds were reopened, and stung much worse than you remembered.
Drumming her fingers against the table, Shiv said, “Dad, I think it’s possible that you’ve somewhat chilled the atmosphere of free-flowing debate here.”
“You know, Kodak was trading at about a hundred dollars a share back in ‘97. Yesterday, you could pick it up for about three bucks. That could be us. If we cash out, we could walk away with ten billion.” Logan glanced at his youngest son, noticing how he’d shuffled his chair closer to you. “Roman. What do you think?”
Swallowing, Roman shrugged. “I dunno, Dad. I fuckin’ love money, but I’m really scared of you, so…” He made a high-pitched noise, barely passable as a laugh. “Yeah, uhm, honestly—I’m not sure I’m willing to give my strategic advice in a public forum when I could just be a, uh, a player in any future moves.”
There was obvious exasperation in Logan’s eyes. Disappointments, the lot of you were in his eyes. Without another word, Logan stood up and began to hobble out of the dining room, pizza left untouched.
“Uhm, Dad?” Roman called out after him, confused.
He didn’t respond.
Roman patted your back twice before getting up as well, following after his father. Shiv was hot on his heels.
One by one, Logan had told them through the door he had closed behind him. He wanted his kids to come in one by one, alone, so that he could have their unfiltered opinion.
Roman went in first, but not before squeezing your hand, and slipping through. When he emerged only ten minutes later, his face was despondent. But his lips were twitching upwards, and you could immediately tell that he was just faking it.
“He’s dying,” he joked with faux anguish. “Riddled with cancer.”
The way Shiv’s brows kinked told him that she didn’t find it all that funny. “Rome.”
“What? It’s a joke. It’s funny. Dad’s got cancer. What’s not funny about that?” You patted his back and nudged him over to the couches, where Connor and Willa were sitting.
The eldest son rolled his eyes. “Sick puppy,” he called Roman.
“No, but seriously, he asked me to run the company.” Dead silence. “I’m kidding. Or am I?”
It was then that Logan called for Shiv to go in. You took Roman’s arm, leading him off into another room, where it was quieter.
“Hope you’re not planning on molesting me back here,” Roman languidly commented, but didn’t fight off your grip. “Nobody would believe me after what I said about Dad—I’d be like the boy who cried wolf.”
“Rome,” you said, partially exasperated, partially somber. “What did he say back there?”
The man across from you scratched at the back of his head. “Honestly? Nothing.”
“Hm?”
“I mean—I explained to him that it’d be smart to sell some shit, keep some shit. Financialize the company. I don’t know. Couldn’t really gauge his reaction—then he just said okay and told me I could go.” Your friend rested his hands on his hips. “Do you think that was smart? Do you, uhm, think he thinks that was stupid?”
It took you another moment to shake your head tentatively. “I think you did the best you could, given the ultimatum. Besides—you wouldn’t really want to run this shitshow, would you?”
He stepped back in an affronted manner. “What do you mean? You don’t think I can do it?”
“It’s not a matter of whether or not you can do it, Ro. It’s about if you want to or not. And I know you wouldn’t. It’s not… it’s not you. You’ve always said the company was like a cage for you.”
The way Roman squared his shoulders told you that he was growing defensive. “Yeah, well, it’s like a fuckin’—a good fuckin’ golden cage. An amazing cage. A cage where I can roll around and throw shit at people. I’d like to stay here for the rest of my life.”
“Do you? Really?”
“What, is this some kind of reverse psychology bullshit Dad put you up to? Just—” He stepped back when you reached out for him. “Fuck off.”
With a huff, you shook your head. “Roman, you need to pull your head out of your fucking ass and realize that I’m the only friend you have. If you can’t trust me, you’re fucked.”
There was a tense beat of silence between you.
Then, he narrowed his eyes on you. “If you stab my back, I’m going to kill you, then throw myself off the highest building I can find. It’ll be like a Shakespearean tragedy.”
“Okay, Rome.”
“I’ll put your head on a spike. Keep it as decoration.”
Slowly, he let you wrap your arms around him. “Okay, Romeo.”
“I’ll pluck your teeth out and wear them around my neck like a string of pearls.”
“Love you, too, Ro,” you said, hugging him tight.
“Yeah, whatever, fuck-face.” He buried his nose into your neck, inhaling sharply. “I knew you were going to molest me.”
The family reconvened later that night, where Logan announced that he decided he was going to keep the company, claiming his ambitions to be the last man standing. Then, he pronounced Roman and Kendall as co-chief operating officers, much to everyone’s dismay.
“We need to stick tight—tighter than ever now,” Logan defended when Roman began to protest.
“But he—no. No, I’m sorry. Excuse me? He… he tried to help your oldest enemy to take over and now he’s getting a fucking promotion? Is that what’s happening?” Rome asked from beside you, arms crossed over his chest.
The old man nodded. “That’s my decision.”
“Well, it’s bullshit,” Roman declared.
Quiet settled over the group.
Like a dog being kicked, Roman withered away beneath his father’s contemptuous stare. You put a hand on his shoulder.
“And you’re going to name a successor?” Connor asked.
“After some consideration, I think we just need a name to flag privately to big investors for now. I mean, it could be anyone. I’m not going anywhere. Could be a stuffed fuckin’ shirt. Could be Y/N, for all I know.”
Did he just compare you to a stuffed shirt—?
“Gerri,” said Logan. “It could be Gerri. We might as well say it’s Gerri.”
With a quirked brow, Shiv said, “Congratulations.”
Her godmother tilted her head and shifted in her seat. “Wow. Okay. Thank you.”
“It won’t be Gerri,” Logan rudely clarified. “But Gerri’s fine. Just so we’re clear.”
She was an expert at hiding her disdain, clearing her throat slightly. “No, yeah, I think we’re very clear.”
With that, Logan dismissed himself, calling for Kendall to follow after him. His number one boy.
It was clear that Roman was still upset. He pulled away from you to go sulk about to his sister.
That night, when the moon shone brighter in the Roy’s summer home than it ever did in the city, and you were buried under a thick blanket, you felt the mattress dip beneath another person’s weight. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was Roman.
“Shut up,” he gruffed when you smiled ever so slightly, even though you hadn’t said anything.
You hummed pleasantly when he curled his arms around your form like a koala would a tree. The two of you fell asleep that way, breathing each other in and dreaming of necklaces made of teeth.
The acquisition to take on PGM was a bad fucking idea. One of the worst you’ve heard, in fact. When Logan brought it up to you and a few other managers during a meeting, you didn’t hesitate to go bee-lining for Roman’s office, demanding him to tell you every single detail.
“So, you think this is, like, not good?” he asked, voice high-pitched and unstable. Just earlier today, he’d been telling his dad and Shiv what a great idea this was.
“No, Roman. It’s not fucking good. I’m sorry, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the most trustworthy news source in America right now to be adopted into a fuckin’... fascist, right-wing, conservative dick jerking fest!” You drummed your fingers against his table. “Ro, this can’t happen. It could very well tank Waystar, and news media outlets in general. Reliability goes down, money goes down, our rivals go up. The political climate couldn’t handle such a change like this—”
Pulling at his face, Roman shook his head. “Fuckin’ political climate. Everything’s about the political climate these days. Fuck!”
“Roman, I’m being serious,” you said, brows furrowing.
He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck. Ugh—fuck! You are… you’re so…” He made an unintelligible noise while shaking his fists at you, nose wrinkling. “You’re right. God. I hate saying that. Feels like I just took a bite out of a rock. But even if you are, I can’t just stab dad in the back like that.”
Shoulders loosening, you nodded in understanding. “What’re you gonna do?”
“Tabitha is friends with Naomi Pierce. I’ll ask her to get me in touch,” Roman said, lips pursed to the side. It didn’t go past your notice that his stance on the Pierce situation was still left ambiguous.
Your eyebrows raised a fraction. “Tabitha? You guys still going steady?”
“Uh-huh. Yup. Never better,” he replied, a tad too quickly.
“Really?” you asked. To none of his surprise, you read him like an open book. “You must really like her.”
“Mhm.”
“But not like-like her?”
Roman clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth in distaste. “What are you, nine?”
“You didn’t say yes,” you said in a sing-song voice. Then, you sobered up to seriously tell him, “Oh, Ro, she’s a great catch, sure, but if you don’t have romantic feelings for her, then don’t string her along like that.”
Rolling his eyes to the side, Roman tried his best to sidestep the topic. “It’s none of your beeswax, you prick. Anyways—you’re coming to Hungary, right? Corporate retreat and all that jazz.”
You didn’t feel like the conversation about Tabitha was quite over, but you let it slide for now. “Yes, Roman. Not really looking forward to it, now that I have to deal with an entire acquisition worth billions hovering over me.”
“Just relax for now—it’s not concrete, even if dad says it is.” Roman stood up from his desk to go pour himself a drink. “I’ll save you a spot on the plane. Next to me, if I’m feeling nice. Next to Greg if I want to be entertained by watching you kill yourself in front of him.”
“Thanks, Romeo,” you dryly said.
“You’re welcome. Okay, you can go away now. I wanna jerk off in front of the window without you watching this time. If you stay, I’ll fuck you against it, and that’d be my one-way ticket to a stern finger-wagging by HR.”
With a snort, you got up from your chair, heading for the door. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks burst aflame at his words, even though you knew it was just light-hearted banter. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, you fuckin’ slut.”
“Bitch,” he shot back, just as you stepped foot out of his office.
“Whore!” you yelled over your shoulder, loud enough to have a few employees turn their head curiously.
Roman watched you go through the glass windows, shaking his head with fond amusement.
The estate in Hungary was surrounded by forests and clean air—a stark contrast to New York. You were walking alongside Roman down to the hunting grounds, hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. The rifle slung across his shoulder kept bumping into you, and you would push him away with a mild grin each time it did. He wasn’t very good at walking straight, eventually colliding into you mere minutes later.
The amicable atmosphere was effectively killed when Kendall approached the two of you, solemn-faced as ever.
“Hey, guys,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Listen, I have a question.”
Both of you stared at him, waiting for him to go on.
After an awfully lengthy pause he continued, “So, uh, did you guys get a call from that biographer?”
Right. You’d been in the middle of discussing with Tom how he’d landed a top position at ATN when your phone began to ring. You politely excused yourself to take the call, surprised to hear a woman claiming to write an unauthorized biography on your godfather—and she wanted you as a source. Though you had many opinions on a man, you knew that voicing them would be nothing but trouble for you.
Roman rolled his eyes. “I mean, yeah, obviously. I’m the interesting one, after all.”
When you laughed, Roman grinned along with you.
“I got a call, too,” you admitted. “Did you?”
Tilting his head into a nod, Kendall mumbled, “Yeah. I did.”
“Well? Are you thinking of talking to her?” asked Roman.
“I don’t know,” Kendall said. “Maybe. You guys?”
“No… but if you’re going to talk to her, then I guess I have to talk to her, too. Just to correct your bullshit,” Roman responded.
Two seconds of silence before you huffed out a sigh. “It's a messy business that I don’t want to involve myself in. If Logan finds out, which I’m sure he will, I’m not going to let myself be killed because of it.”
The two started talking about Pierce. Both of them sounded so awfully fake about the entire ordeal that you wanted to bash their heads together and force them not to speak through a brown nosing filter. Their conversation came to a halt when Roman’s phone began to ring, and he stepped away to answer privately, much to Kendall’s chagrin.
“Hey, Kendall,” you broached, rocking your weight back and forth on your heels. “If you talk to that writer, Logan won’t be as forgiving to you this time. He’ll slit your throat in front of everyone to see.”
The man who you onced looked up to as an older brother stared at you with a dead expression. “I know,” was all he said.
Once Roman came ambling back, Kendall began to interrogate him about the call. Defensive, Roman lied—you knew he was. He had an obvious tell: the way his nose would twitch and his left eye went all squinty. The older brother told him he was full of shit.
Before they could break out in another argument, a Hungarian hunter came up to the three of you, claiming that the truck was ready to take them out into the wilderness.
“Let’s go murder a terrified mammal,” quipped Roman, taking your hand and leading you away from Kendall.
The hunting party returned to the estate with four boars. You took no part in the killings, having stayed in the truck to speak to Gerri on the phone. Apparently, she had very strong doubts about adopting PGM, and wanted to know if you felt the same. You were Logan’s family, she had said, and he listened to family more than his own general counsel.
You told her you would if you could, but Logan was adamant on taking on PGM. No amount of needless peddling would sway his mind.
Hours later, when the sky was dark and the table was laid out with all sorts of fruits and glasses of spiced wines, everybody was seated for dinner. You sat between Roman and Gerri, speaking to both of them in hushed whispers about nothing quite important.
The amicable atmosphere was shattered when Logan stood up to address everybody.
“Someone has spoken to Michelle Pantsil.” The biographer.
Both you and Roman glanced at each other, knowing that it was neither of you. Was it possibly Kendall? Had he been lying to the both of you again? Or had it been someone else? Tom? Greg? Gerri? Frank?
“We’ve got rats on this ship,” continued your godfather, rounding behind people’s chairs in a menacing, domineering manner. “And Pierce—who’s got my back, hm? Who’s really behind me? Anyone wanna own up? Hm? Anyone want to rat out a rat?”
Ah. So it seemed Pierce knew of Logan’s moves now. You didn’t dare chance a glance at Roman, knowing it was him who had told Naomi.
Logan began to sharply question a few people at the table, demanding to know if they had anything they wanted to say to him. It shocked you even further when he barked out an order for everyone to put their phones on the table—both company and private.
“Is that really necessary?” asked Gerri. “I’m not even sure if that’s legal to demand people to—”
“Yeah, well, we’re getting down to brass fucking tacks,” spat Logan, eyeing everybody darkly. You did as he said, placing both of your devices onto the table—you had nothing to hide. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Roman slipping his phone beneath his leg.
When he caught your gaze, his head dipped forward a bit and his eyebrows pulled together. Shut up, his eyes seemed to tell you. Even without verbalizing it, he still somehow managed to be rude to you.
You narrowed them back at him, wordlessly telling him not to worry.
“Karl, do you like the Pierce deal?” Logan queried.
“I do. Yes, I do. Yes, yeah.”
With a dry chuckle, Logan shook his head. “Bullshit. Boar on the floor.”
The two men began their back and forth—Logan commanding Karl to stand in the corner whilst the former sputtered out indignant protests. It was embarrassing and humiliating, and he was going to do it all anyway.
“Tom.”
“Me? Uh, Pierce?”
“Yes,” said an exasperated Logan.
Clearing his throat, Tom hesitantly said, “Well, there’s a lot of factors, but uhm, yes. Personally, I like it. I do.”
“Boar on the fucking floor, over there,” gruffed your godfather, pointing over to where Karl stood.
With no protest, Tom pushed away from the table and slunk off.
“Gerri! Stand up! Tell me about Pierce.”
Her gaze stayed on her untouched plate as she got onto her feet. “Well, to be perfectly honest with you… I’ve, uhm, I’ve had a few doubts.”
“Honesty,” Logan finally said. “You see, everybody? Do you see? Honesty. Greg, stand up! Did you get any orders from my brother? The fucking Conscience of the Prairies?”
Everybody watched as Greg stammered out a near incoherent response. He was sent off to stand next to Tom and Karl, as well. This seemed to be Roman’s breaking point, because he burst into a fit of giggles.
“Roman!” barked his father.
This brought him back to sobriety. “I like it, Dad, for real—”
“Stand the fuck up!”
With a bitter murmur beneath his breath, Roman got up to his feet. With discreet motions, you silently swiped the phone from his chair and placed it beneath your leg so it wouldn’t be seen by his father.
Desperate to divert the attention away from him, Roman said, “Kendall took a call from the biographer.”
Logan rested his hands upon Kendall’s shoulders, which made Roman bristle even harder. His older brother droned out, “We all got a call, Rome. Y/N, too.”
“Okay, yes, but you—you seemed like you actually wanted to talk to her.”
“To smoke you out for Dad.”
Roman’s nose wrinkled. “What? Fuck you! Why’d you get to smoke me out? I was smokin’ you out!”
As you watched Logan’s fingers curl into Kendall’s shirt, you couldn’t help but think of him as a meat puppet of sorts. So damaged and broken and directionless, ready to heed every single one of his father’s words.
“Why don’t you tell us about your mystery call?”
“Oh, the phone call?” Roman propped a hand on his hip, risking a glance at you. Then, he violently began to scratch at the back of his head. “Yeah, sure, it was Frank. He meant to call you, he wants to know if the plan to overthrow Dad is still happening. ”
Finally pulling away from Kendall, Logan’s voice rang out across the room like a slap to the face. “Someone spiked Pierce. Which one of you boars did it?”
He yelled for the three men in the corner to get down on their knees, claiming it was a game. Your godfather, now more of a monster than a man, called for everyone to get up and cheer, “Boar on the floor!” as Tom, Greg, and Karl scrambled about to eat a sausage that was tossed to them in order to prove their loyalty. He demanded they oink and squeal like real piggies would.
It was cruel and animalistic. And Roman was filming with his personal phone, a sadistic smile on his face.
You would’ve berated him for it, if not for Kendall cornering you against the wall when everybody else was distracted by the Boar on the Floor spectacle.
“I know you took Roman’s phone. I saw you,” he said, eyes flickering down to your pockets, where you had hidden away the mobile.
“Fuck off, Kendall,” you responded with a daggered edge. “You touch me, and I’ll bite your fucking head off.”
“I thought you were smarter than this,” he told you. “Defending my brother—do you know how many times he’s fucked you over? How many times he’ll keep fucking you over?”
Curling your upper lip in contempt, you spat out, “Get the fuck away from me, Kendall. What’s wrong with you?”
Suddenly, his hand shot out to grab Roman’s company phone from your pocket, prompting you to shove at him, trying to grab the phone back. The commotion caught the attention of everyone else, Roman included.
He was quick to step forward, pulling you away from his brother so he could try to yank the device away himself.
“What the fuck? Give me my fucking phone back, asshole!”
“What are you hiding? What’s the code?”
“Are you fucking serious? My code is, uhm, fuck you—”
The two of them began to tussle, arguing indistinctly as they pulled at each other’s hair and limbs. You stepped back, burying your face in your hands in utter exhaustion.
When Kendall locked Roman in a chokehold, Roman finally keyed in his PIN, shoving his older brother away with a labored breath.
“Okay, you got it! You fuckin’ happy? There’s nothing in there. Now give it back—give me my fucking phone!” When he began advancing on his brother again, Colin stepped in to keep him at bay. “What, are you going to touch me, too? Grab my fucking balls—I will drop you, you cocksucker!”
Finally, Kendall opened up Roman’s call history, not at all to see Naomi Pierce at the very top. He didn’t hesitate to tell his father.
“Dad, it was Roman. Roman talked to Pierce.”
Panic weaving through his tone, Roman shook his head. “Dad—I didn’t… I didn’t betray you.”
“Then what’s this call from today?” asked Kendall, holding up the phone. “Why are you talking to her?”
For a moment, Roman’s eyes flickered over to you. “Come on, man. I wasn’t trying to fuck the deal. I was trying to land the deal. I was trying to help—I thought it would be a… a nice surprise.”
His words struck you across the face like a slap. Roman had told you that you were right—that acquiring PGM was a terrible idea. You’d thought he was on your side. And now—it seemed like he was doing it all for his father’s favor. The best of both worlds, blew right up in his face.
“Roman,” began Logan, “you’re a moron.”
Crackling silence.
Kendall cleared his throat. “Boar on the floor?”
Having enough of him, you snapped, “Shut the fuck up, Kendall.”
“Y/N was helping him,” said Kendall. “Tried hiding his phone from the table.”
Logan swung his heated, intense gaze onto you. It took all you had within you not to flinch away.
“I didn’t know what Roman was doing. I just didn’t want to get him in trouble.”
Your godfather shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “How sweet,” he spat. “The two of you are perfect for each other. Fucking morons!”
“Dad,” said Roman, voice warbling. “I am not a moron. She isn’t, either. Y/N, tell him—tell him why you thought PGM was a bad idea.”
Everybody’s eyes were on you. Suddenly, your throat went dry, and all words flew out of your vocabulary. You shook your head, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. Roman’s shoulders drooped with the weight of shame and loss.
“How much is a gallon of milk?” Logan suddenly asked his youngest son, advancing on him until he withered beneath his father’s glare.
“What?”
“How much is a gallon of fucking milk?”
Confused beyond his mind, Roman said, “I don’t know. I mean, who the fuck knows, Dad? Literally nobody knows! Who gives a shit?”
“Greg! How much is a gallon of milk?”
The lanky man stammered out, “Uh, I mean, like, regular milk, or—?”
Burying his face into his hands, not unlike you had done earlier, Logan sighed out, “I am surrounded by snakes and fucking morons! You’re a bunch of silk-stocking fucks! Who backs me on Pierce, huh? Who?”
When he was met by silence, Kendall answered in everyone’s stead.
“None of them do, Dad. They’re all against it. Karl’s lying, Tom’s lying, Gerri’s playing both sides, Y/N is very clearly against what you’re doing.”
Hot shame curled within your gut. Though you were steadfast in your beliefs against taking PGM, disappointing your father figure was never a pleasant sensation, no matter how terrible he was.
“Uncle Logan, I’m sorry—” you began, but he was quick to shut you down.
“Don’t go sucking my dick now, girl. It’s too fucking late. You’re lucky your brainless parents are major shareholders, or I would’ve fired you a dozen times by now. Do you know that? How fucking worthless you are?”
Tears pricked the corner of your eyes. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, training your gaze onto the ground.
“Here’s the news,” Logan said, addressing the entire group now. “We are going after it. And what’s more… I will win.”
With that, he stormed off, disappearing somewhere in the vast house.
“Hey,” Roman tried to speak to you, but you maneuvered away, disappearing up some stairs, where your room was waiting for you.
It took a lot of indecisive thought, but you left the door unlocked.
To none of your surprise, Roman came crawling into your room when everybody was asleep. He slipped into the empty spot beside you, slurring out a litany of nonsensical apologies mixed in with how much of an asshole Kendall was.
“You’re drunk,” you whispered, pushing his face away. You hadn’t the heart to be angry at him. Not this late at night. Not when he was just as upset as you were about what had transpired during dinner. “Go to sleep, Rome.”
“Give me a kiss g’night. And tell me you forgive me.”
“Ro—”
“Just—just fucking do it! Don’t ask me stupid questions.”
Shifting in the bed, you leaned forward to press light kisses to both his fluttering eyelids. “We’re good, Romeo. I don’t know. I’m mad at you, but not as much as I’m mad at Kendall and your dad. I’m your only friend, remember? I love you, asshole.”
“Yeah. Shut up.” His hands curled over your waist and pulled you close. “Say that again.”
There was a laugh in your voice. “What? That I’m your only friend?”
He prodded your side with a stiff finger. “The fuckin’... the love thing.”
A part of you contemplated telling him to fuck off. But the wide, warbling brown of his irises told you that he was desperate to hear it. Desperate for any crumb of affection he was offered. “Mhm. I love you, Ro. I do. Now go to sleep.”
He lazily blinked at you, as if he was a cat. “Don’t be mad if I puke all over you.”
“I won’t be mad.”
“I’d be mad if you puked all over me. Why wouldn’t you be mad at me?”
“Go to sleep, Rome.”
“Night. You smell good, you know? Like if a unicorn had sex with a bouquet of flowers.” Without warning, he sank his teeth into your neck, and you had to physically pry his teeth from your skin to keep him from using you like a chew toy.
Muffling a yawn, you murmured, “Go to sleep before I euthanize you.”
It took him another hour to finally drift off, but when he did, the two of you slept better than you had in months.
Roman was terribly hungover the next morning. Headaches and droopy lids, barely registering your voice telling him to get up. When he finally rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he noticed that you were already dressed for the day, having gotten ready while he was passed out.
“Everyone’s waiting for you, Ro,” you gently told him, brushing his hair out of his face and then taking his hands to tug him off the bed. “Go wash up. Come on, stinker.”
He let you push him around, handing him the toothbrush and a cup of water to drink once he was done washing up. You turned to give him some privacy to change, but his fingers just couldn’t seem to button his buttons right.
“These fuckin’ things—like they’re made of soap or something—”
With a light sigh, you rotated back around. “Come here, you big baby.” You straightened out his collar before slipping the buttons through their respective holes with ease.
“Dad’s killing me. He’s cutting my fucking balls off.”
You watched him with a sympathetic gaze. “He won’t do that. He doesn’t see you as a threat.”
“That’s not the compliment you think it is.”
“I wasn’t trying to compliment you.”
Roman watched as you fastened together the last button for him, but you didn’t step away, staying close by him.
“If I was capable of any sudden movement, I would totally pounce on you right now. I like your shirt—is that a new shirt?”
“I’ve had it for four years,” you deadpanned.
“Hm. Old shirt. You should throw it out.” To his relief, you smiled at him.
Patting his cheek once, you asked, “Are you okay? How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know. I’m fucking terrible. But I should be asking you the same. Dad took a beating on the both of us.”
Memories of last night made your nose wrinkle in distaste.
“I think everyone was just… caught up in the heat of the moment. I don’t think your dad meant everything he said.” He did, you knew he did.
Shaking his head, Roman slunk away to go put on his shoes. “He thinks I’m a moron. The worst of his seed, or whatever the fuck. How am I supposed to get him to take me seriously? Grow a mustache and read the Journal? I’ll fucking do it.”
“Don’t grow a mustache. You’ll look like you came straight out of a shitty European porno.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Ignoring him, you sat down beside the disorderly man, pulling on your own dress shoes and knotting together the laces, before helping him tie his, because his fingers suddenly decided not to work this morning. “Gerri told me I should convince you to go to management training. Because, you know—tada. Your only friend is one of the company’s head managers. Lucky you.”
“What, she and Dad want you to be my teacher? Sounds like a sexual fantasy to me.”
“It probably won’t be me. Might be a lower-level manager. But I’d come to visit! Get you in the spirit of things.”
Roman snorted. “Ugh. I don’t want to go back to classes. I’ll kill myself.”
“Don’t be dramatic. Let’s at least have some breakfast first.”
A week later, Roman was enrolled into the management training program, much to Gerri’s relief. She’d thanked you for convincing him, and you told her that it barely took any effort at all. Really, he just wanted to become better in his Dad’s eyes.
You were swamped with work as usual, occasionally checking your phone to see a long strings of texts from Roman, complaining and whining about the torture they were putting him through (they made him watch a video about ethical conduct in a workplace).
When Roman called you the first time, you declined because you were in a meeting. You declined the second time as well, because you really had to concentrate on filling out important documents. By the time your phone rang again, you were in between tasks, and picked up with a grouchy, “What, Roman?”
“Yowza, who put that stick up your ass?” his voice came through. His high pitched laughter followed. “It’s fucking hell here. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Sorry,” you replied, pinching your brows. “It’s been terrible up here, too. I’ve got a lot of shit on my plate. This acquisition really isn’t helping.”
“Are you coming?” he asked.
Blinking, you shifted the phone in your palm. “Coming where? To your training?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Mmh, I’m sorry, Ro. I really would, but I’m just up to my head with work. But I’m proud of you! Really, I am.”
“Oh, you are? Fuck you,” he snapped.
You took no offense to his bitterness. “Fuck you back. This is good, what you’re doing, Romeo.”
“Yeah, I know—I’m gonna grow up to be a real little boy and learn the price of an egg, and do… phone sex with my girlfriend like a normo.”
Laughing, you knocked your head back with a grin. “Y’know, phone sex is more kinky than anything. If you wanna be normal, you look her in the eyes during missionary sex and tell her you love her.”
“Pfft. Yeah, right. Do people actually do that? That sounds disgusting.”
“Yes, people actually do that. Have you ever considered that you’re the disgusting one?”
“Don’t be mean, this is my first day of training, you bitch.”
From his tone, you could tell he was smiling, too.
“Seems like you’ve been complaining to me more than actually paying attention.”
“I can’t help it. The videos are too fucking long. It’s like trying to teach Beethoven how to play hot cross buns on the piano.”
You laughed, and Roman felt a certain warmth pool in his chest.
“You can do it, Ro. I believe in you.”
“Thanks, mommy,” he teasingly replied.
Your phone began to buzz with another call. “Ah—sorry, Rome, I gotta go. See you later, okay?”
Before he could say his grumpy goodbyes, you’d already hung up. To your surprise, your screen displayed the called ID of your godfather. Your palms suddenly grew clammy.
When you answered, his voice was soft and amicable—a stark contrast to what it was like in Hungary.
“Hello, dear. Hope you’re well.”
The rest of the call went surprisingly fine. Logan wanted you to go over to his office to run through some analytics and, apparently, he wanted to apologize to you in person. Mend the broken bridges, he had said. You weren’t entirely sure if there was another game he was playing at, but you couldn’t say no to him. He was your top boss, after all.
Just as you slipped through the glass doors with a hesitant smile, a loud bang sounded from somewhere on the floor. You flinched, eyes widening.
A gunshot.
Terror wrapped its dark hands around you when security guards quickly took you by the arm, guiding you around bends and corners, before finally leading you into a panic room. Logan came in behind you, looking mildly distraught.
“Are you okay?” you asked, helping him sit down and giving him a loose hug.
“Fine, fine. Where’s Siobhan? Kendall?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
When you felt down your pants for your phone, you let out a frustrated sigh when you couldn’t find it anywhere on you. You must’ve dropped it during all the commotion to get to the safe room. You settled into a seat across from Logan, watching the news on the television, your leg bouncing up and down with agitation.
A few minutes later, Shiv showed up, embracing her dad with a chaste kiss. She gave you a hug as well, cheek pressing against yours.
“Do you know what’s going on?”
“No, I don’t. Where’s Tom?”
She pulled away to call her husband, and you slumped back into your chair.
Down on ground level, Roman was still in his training class, watching his partner begin to present his idea for a new ride, when a man burst through the doors, calling out Mr. Roy!
Well, there goes his chance to pretend to be a normo.
“Just in case you get a news alert on your phone, there’s been an incident at ATN.”
Roman’s brows quirked downwards. “Is my dad okay?”
“It’s been suggested that it could be a concerted attack against the family. Do you want us to take you to a more secure location?”
“Yeah, of course I want that—get me the fuck out of here!” The guard began ushering him out of the class, down the hall to a more ‘secure’ space, which was clearly just an inventory room. “So, uh, does an attack against the family include, like, godchildren, too? Or just, uh, direct blood-related shit?”
“I don’t know yet, sir. All we know so far is that there was a gunshot in the building.”
Panic began to settle in Roman’s chest. He fished out his phone from his pants and called you. No answer.
He texted you, over and over again.
Hey
Fuckface
You heard about this shooting bullshit? I thought they only went for schools nowadays.
Answer me
Bitch
Right fucking now
Can you pick up?
Hello
Helloooooooooo
🖕
Hahaha funny joke!
Now fucking pick up
It didn’t quite occur to Roman that he should probably call his siblings just yet. He was far too caught up with the idea of you lying on the ground somewhere, bleeding out to death. Certainly not a pleasant thought.
He called you again, and nearly threw his phone across the inventory—safe room when you didn’t pick up.
What the fuck
Please answer me it’s not funny anymore
If you’re dead I’ll kill you
I’m being serious
Hello?
Please answer
You can’t be dead it’s literally not possible
He called a third time, and there was no response. Growing increasingly worried, Roman finally called his twin sister, who responded after the second ring.
“Hey, Rome. You okay?”
“Yeah, whatever. Is Y/N okay?” he hurriedly asked, itching at the back of his neck.
“She’s fine. Here with me in the safe room. I’m fine too, by the way. Thanks for asking.”
“Fuck off, just put me on the phone with her!”
A second later, your voice came through, and Roman nearly melted onto the floor in relief.
“Hello? Rome? Are you okay?”
“You fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you were fucking dead! Why didn’t you answer any of my texts?”
If not for the situation at hand, you would’ve laughed at how worked up he sounded. “I lost my phone when the gunshot sounded out. Sorry, Ro. It happened so quickly. They’re saying it was a suicide. But I’m not really sure—Gerri’s filling me in.”
“So you’re, like, okay? Actually okay?”
“I’m okay.”
“Ugh, fuck you. Go to hell!” he barked into the phone, right before hanging up.
You stood, still stunned, handing Shiv’s phone back to her with a quiet word of thanks.
Curled up in the corner of the inventory room, Roman found out that he and Brian had won for best pitch for a ride in the class. He smiled a little, then followed out after his partner to make sure that he wasn’t fibbing.
“I slaughtered them, you know? Everyone in that fucking training class grovels at my feet now,” Roman told Tabitha on the phone. “They’re jealous! And that’s all there is to it. Anyways, um, how are you?”
“Good!” she told him. “I’m about to get in the bath.”
“Oh, yeah?” Roman took a long pause. “Uh, y’know, Y/N told me that phone sex is kinda… kinky. You wanna…?”
On the other side of the line, Tabitha smiled, putting her phone on speaker. “Mmh, alright. I’m making the bath real sudsy.”
“Is that because you’re dirty?”
“I am. I’m a dirty, dirty girl.”
“Yeah, you are. And I would love to fuck you.”
She laughed, light and airy. “I’m so wet for you right now.”
A long pause. Roman winced. “Uh, that’s not… well, you don’t have to be so specific.”
“I’m… being sexy?”
“Yeah, it’s just—could you not do that thing? With your voice? It’s, like, breathy and unnatural.”
Sucking in a frustrated lungful of air, Tabitha shook her head. “That’s what I sound like when I’m turned on, Roman.”
“I know, I just… I don’t like it, so—” He made his way to the bed and laid down. “Let’s just be normal. Let’s be normal. Casual.”
“Normal? Okay, I was just trying to get into it but…”
“No, I’m sorry, yeah, you’re right.” He cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice. “Um, I’m fucking you in the pussy. I’m fucking you hard.”
Tabitha pursed her lips. “Amazing. What are you gonna do next, change your water filter cartridge?”
Rolling his eyes, Roman sighed out, exasperated, “Jesus fucking Christ—oh, look at that, I’m coming! I’m coming! Ah, wow, I came! Thank you! Hooray! Bye.”
Abruptly, he hung up, not unsimilar to what he did to you earlier to you in the day. Guilt suddenly flushed through him—he probably should give you a call. Say he’s sorry.
It only took one ring for you to pick up, and he could tell that you were smiling on the other end. “Hey, Romeo. Didn’t think you had the emotional capacity to talk to me after thinking I was dead.”
Roman rubbed his left eye. “Fuck you. So are you, uh, okay?”
“You already asked me that, Rome.”
“No, like—mentally or whatever. Must’ve been scary. Ooh.” He made a ghost-esque noise, but cringed upon realizing that that probably wasn’t appropriate.
Nonetheless, you scoffed through the phone. “It was jarring, but I’ll be okay. How’d training go?”
“I mean, it’s fuckin’ bullshit but I won the stupid ride pitch thing. They should have it built.”
There was some rustling of sheets. Roman wondered if you were clambering into bed. He wondered what you were wearing.
“You really think they’ll build you the ride after your first day in management training? Don’t be stupid.”
“I’ve got money. They’ll build whatever I want them to fuckin’ build.”
“You know who you sound like? Like Joffrey Baratheon, from that show I made you watch. The one you never paid attention to unless there was a pair of tits on screen. Spoiled little shits, the both of you.”
With an affronted gasp, he said, “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m technically your boss.”
You giggled. “Don���t pull the boss card on me, Roman. You’ve slept in my bed more times than in your own. That’s fucking… that’s like power play, right there.”
“Yeah?” Roman could feel a rush of blood go straight to his dick, which began to strain against his pants. “D’you think we’d get in trouble if we ever…”
There was a long moment of silence. Static filled in Roman’s ears.
“If we what, Roman?” you asked, voice quiet.
Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Roman blurted out, “I tried the fuckin’ normie phone sex with Tabitha.”
“And?”
“She got turned on.”
“Uh, congratulations?”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Oh. Why not? You like your sex dirtier? Wrong?” You began to chuckle, but it tapered away when Roman went silent on the other end of the phone. More rustling blankets. “Oh, fuck, Roman. You’re an idiot, you know that?”
You could hear the sound of his belt unbuckling.
“What else am I?” His voice was breathy. Whiny, almost.
“This is wrong, Romeo. I can’t… you’re dating Tabitha, remember?”
“Just keep—keep talking.” When his hand wrapped around his hard dick, weeping with pearly precum, Roman wondered if he’d bust his nut right then and there.
After a few seconds of silence, you tentatively continued, “You’re disgusting, Rome. What’s wrong with you? Touching yourself to my voice when your girlfriend was left high and dry for you.”
He began to stroke himself, eyes fluttering shut. A strained moan fell from his lips. Neither of you had ever ventured this into this territory in your relationship before. Sure, sexual jokes were always passed back and forth between the two of you but this was—this was real. Wasn’t it?
“Mmh, I don’t want you to cum yet, Ro.” You clutched the phone close to your ear.
A choked noise emitted from his throat. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—”
“Hold it.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to cum with you.” More rustling on the other end as you kicked your pants and underwear down, dragging your finger around your clit.
This seemed to send Roman into another fit of whines—the thought of you fucking yourself on your own fingers to him made his mind go all hazy.
“Romey, tell me,” you whispered. “Out of all those times we slept in the same bed together—did you ever imagine fucking me while I was asleep? Like a sick little pervert?”
A groan climbed up the back of Roman’s throat. His pace slowed down, trying his best not to cum prematurely. “Yes, all the fucking time. Yes—” His words died on his tongue as he moaned again, and again, and again—
“God, Ro.” You stifled a gasp when you plunged two fingers into your throbbing cunt. It’d been a long while since you’d had the time to touch yourself—it was no surprise that you were already on the brink of an orgasm. “Have you touched yourself to me before? I’m sure you have. You sick fuck.”
The vein in Roman’s forehead popped as he bucked his hips into his fist. “Fuck, yes! Yes, please, Y/N, please—”
“Please, what?” You moaned yourself, grinding into your palm. “You wanna cum, baby? I wanna hear you make a mess of yourself. Like the dirty fucking pervert you are.”
With those words, Roman toppled off the edge, spurts of warm cum dribbling from his throbbing cock, soaking his fist with its sticky mess. He fucked himself through his high, whining with overstimulation at the sound of your own choked sighs.
Breathily, he whimpered, “What else? Please, what else? What would you do if you were here with me?”
“Mmh, if I was there, I’d make you lick your cum off of me. I’d ride your face until you pass out—oh!”
A creak of the bed as you arched your back, crying out his name, cresting over the peak yourself.
More silence. Labored breaths.
You swallowed heavily, skin glowing with a faint sheen of sweat. The haze of your orgasm was beginning to dissipate, and you were coming back to your own senses. “Fuck—I’m sorry, Ro. I don’t... I don’t think we should’ve done that.”
He blew out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, we shouldn’t have.” His chest rose and fell unevenly. “But it was fucking amazing.”
“It was.” You ran your tongue along your teeth in thought. “I’m gonna go, uhm, clean myself up, Ro. G’night.”
“Mmh. Night.”
“This doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still best friends?”
Roman screwed his lips up to the side. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Totally. BFFs for liferz, or whatever cheesy fucking bullshit you need to hear.”
You scoffed. Things would be okay with the two of you. They always worked out in the end. “See you soon, slut.”
“Hey, Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Romeo.”
“Mmkay, bye, fuck-face.”
With that, the call ended.
Weeks later, the Roy family was to spend the weekend with the Pierces at their family estate. You figured the reason why Logan had called you to his office right before the suicide was because he wanted you to come along and play mediator—the Pierces were a rather articulate and fanciful family. According to your godfather, they aligned much more with your and Shiv’s politics than his. It reminded you how you were nothing but a pawn on the chessboard for him to maneuver.
Regardless, you knew you couldn’t say no. Even though he knew you didn’t support the Pierce acquisition, you were a valuable asset and that could potentially be beneficial for both parties. Besides, the Pierces were a powerful family. Having them as allies would be good for you.
You were lounging on the couch beside Shiv and Tabitha when Roman strode into his father’s house, bowing down dramatically.
“How was summer camp?” she teased her twin.
“Hm? What’s that? Didn’t catch what you said. I’ve been down in the salt mines for so long with my fellow Johnny Lunchpails, I no longer speak One-Percent,” he said when he bent down to kiss Tab’s cheek.
Snorting, Shiv retorted, “You were slinging candy apples, Rome, not digging the Panama Canal.”
“I’ve seen the world for how it really is, Siobhan, and it has changed me! I’m a kettle corn shoveler, here to show you frilly clit-flickers the truth. Hullo, Y/N. You look lovely.” He patted your cheek thrice, and you swatted his hand away before the fourth. A part of you had been worrying for the past few days about your relationship with Roman. Would things change after what had happened over the phone? Or was it all just… no big deal?
To your relief, the two of you seemed to be just the same as before.
“Hey, Rome. Nice to see you’ve been so… humbled. Tell me, if I were to ask you to do my laundry, would you know how?”
Tabitha cracked up at your words and she nudged at your knee humorously.
Roman rolled his eyes, muttering something about how he wouldn’t want to touch your tighty whities anyway, and scuttled off to greet Marcia and Connor. Only then did Logan come in, Kendall in tow. His little meat puppet.
“Alright. Cars are waiting—but first, some announcements. Frank, if you wouldn’t mind?”
Logan’s right-hand man stepped forward to address the group. “As you all know, the good news is that the Pierces are entertaining our offer, but bad news—they’re inquiring about your moral character, hence this weekend.”
“They want to look us in the teeth,” gruffed Logan.
Frank nodded. “Right. They want our 24 billion, but they also want to be able to ensure the integrity of their news outlets into the future.”
“Mmh, to ensure everything goes smoothly, we’ve prepared a few do’s and don’ts for the weekend,” said Gerri, pointedly staring at Roman. “Topics to stay clear of: Ravenhead, ATN, Israel, Brightstar, and the Cruise’s rumor mill. Steer onto: gossip, investments, art, movies, literature… tittle-tattle. Wider cultural interests.”
“Oh, and two drinks maximum,” Frank added. “They’re not big drinkers.”
Tilting his head, Roman drawled, “That’s okay. Nobody here has any glaring substance abuse issues that almost brought down the company, right?” He lolled his head over to Kendall, shooting him a wink.
Logan went through a few more details about Tom and ATN and Rhea, which certainly raised a few apprehensions.
“Thanks for all your help,” said Logan. For a moment, his eyes landed on you. You wondered if he had considered that you’d purposefully sabotage this weekend to stop the deal from going through. Or maybe he knew you were his loyal lapdog, no matter how far he kicked you. Or maybe he simply wanted you there for diversity points. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. “We need this. Bagging Pierce is the key to our proxy defense. And the defense is life itself. See you at Plymouth Rock.”
Once the helicopters landed onto Pierce's land and everyone was filed out into the vast green fields, Logan turned to his group and gestured for them to smile. He’d even gone out of his way to brush a stray piece of lint off of your coat for you whilst passing by.
“I am smiling!” Roman haughtily protested when his father gave him a pointed glare.
“Yeah, not like a pervert,” said Shiv.
You grinned, laughing out, “That’s just how he looks, Shiv.”
“Hardee-har-har,” Roman spat out. Then, he watched as Logan linked arms with both Marcia and Shiv. “Wow, Jesus. Look at Papa Smurf. Should I be doing that with you guys?”
Both you and Tabitha glanced at each other, before walking onwards, flat out ignoring Roman.
The Pierce family was waiting not too far from the helicopters, greeting everyone with apprehensive yet kind smiles.
The woman who spoke had soft eyes and a round face. Not at all intimidating in stature, but you knew better than to judge a book by its cover. “Welcome to Ternhaven! Our city on the hill. I’m Nan Pierce—it’s nice to meet all of you. I think we’re going to have fun getting a look at all of you, won’t we?”
Both families drew nearer as everybody exchanged polite greetings. You shook hands with about half a dozen people, trying your best to keep up with names and faces. Once at the estate, someone had taken off your coat and offered you a glass of water before you’d even taken three steps inside.
It was certainly a beautiful home. It felt more lived-in than Logan’s houses, with its abundance of paintings and framed pictures on the walls. The furniture was warmer and cozier—a stark contrast to Logan’s preference for sharp edges and monochrome colors.
Roman came up to your side and pointed at a Latin phrase inscribed into the archway.
“In veritate triumpho,” he read aloud. “This wine is triumphant? No—your vagina trumpets!”
Passing by, Gerri sharply hushed him just as your shoulders began to shake with mirth.
“I triumph in the truth,” you told him.
“Honesty is the best policy around here,” said a dark-haired man, appearing from seemingly nowhere. You heard Roman mutter Jesus H. Christ, beneath his breath, but you discreetly pinched his side before he could say anything else. You faintly recognized the man as Peter Pierce—a cousin of Nan. He’d been overly enthusiastic with his handshake, watching you with gleaming curiosity, complimenting you on your outfit.
You weren’t blind. You knew attraction when you saw it—and Peter wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it.
“So… where’d you learn Latin?”
“Self taught,” you told him, smiling politely. “I’m not fluent. I just know a few bits and bobs here and there. Tried to learn during my college years.”
Before Peter could respond, Roman motioned gagging. “Barf. I’m gonna go see who Tabs is flirting with. See you nerds later.”
He slipped away, leaving you alone with Peter, much to your chagrin.
The man was nice enough, sure, but he was being very obvious with the way his gaze lingered a tad too long on your chest. And when it wasn’t there, he was ogling your lips. It was a bit unnerving.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, you know,” said Peter, arms crossed.
“And I know next to nothing about you,” you airily responded, trying your best to keep your smile natural, though it proved increasingly difficult with each passing second.
“Well, that can be remedied, no?” he asked.
You internally cursed at his forwardness. “Sure, yeah. Sounds great.”
And off he chattered, prattling on about his time with his company and what he studied during university, occasionally asking for your experiences as well. You only paid him half a mind, keeping the other occupied with observations of everybody else in the room. How Shiv had somehow managed to insult someone already, how Connor was talking about his presidential campaign with someone who so clearly didn’t agree with his views, and how Roman was guffawing at something Naomi and Tabitha were discussing.
“And what about the tabloids on you?”
“I’m sorry?” you asked, snapping your attention back onto Peter.
“The tabloids about you and Roman. A lot of them discuss the two of you as a pair.”
Shrugging one of your shoulders, you shook your head. “Those are just baseless rumors.” You thought back to how you and Roman jerked off to each other through the phone. Not baseless at all, it seemed. “Roman and I are friends.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
Peter smiled. A part of you felt bad for stringing him along in such a way. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if you didn’t count all the uncomfortable ogling. “I just feel like we have a connection, you know? Do you feel it, too?”
“Mmh. Yeah, I’m feeling it.” You chanced a glance to Roman, who was staring straight at you with an impish grin. He saw right through your little facade—he knew you were miserable, and he was enjoying the shit out of it.
“That’s so good to hear. I knew you were different the moment I set eyes on you.”
“Wow. You really do have a way with words. Edgar Allen Poe up in here,” you joked loosely, trying your best not to sound deadpan.
“You like Edgar Allen Poe, too? God, you’re like—fricking perfect for me. Excuse my French.” To your horror, Peter reached out to clasp your shoulder, steering you to a more quiet part of the room. “Tell me more about yourself. Things I don’t already know from the tabloids. What was it like growing up around the Roys?”
They were more of your family than your actual parents. They were the bane of your existence. They were everything to you.
Before you could vocalize any of your thoughts (or, some poor, watered-down rendition of them), Logan shepherded the Waystar side of the group into another room for a short, private talk. You let out a long sigh as soon as you were far away enough from Peter, feeling your muscles loosen up. God, that man really did make you stiff in all the worst ways.
“I think it’s going pretty well,” Roman said once everyone began filing through the door. “I mean, nobody’s fucked Nan or killed her cat by accident, so I think we’re doing pretty good.”
It seemed Logan didn’t quite agree, because he stormed up to his daughter, angrily demanding, “What the fuck did you say to Mark? Making cracks about his PhD?”
“It was a joke! He laughed.”
Frowning, Logan continued on, “He’s a yes, Shiv. He’s solid. Why are you even bothering him?”
The group began to then argue about Maxim, who Connor was supposed to persuade into the yes territory of the acquisition—which he was clearly failing.
“Cut the horseshit, know your roles!” barked your godfather. “Shiv, I want you on Nan.”
“Okay, Dad, we don’t have to be so schematic,” she protested, but her words went largely ignored.
Logan rounded on Roman, standing beside you. “Romulus. When you laugh, please do it at the same volume as everyone else. We didn’t get you from a hyena farm.”
“Thanks, Pop,” said Roman. You frowned, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.
“The good news is that Nan seems to be spending money in her head—but she could still be swayed by her family, so every cousin counts,” Gerri added.
“Everybody, stay in your lanes. Who’s on Peter?” asked Logan.
“I got it, Dad,” said Kendall.
Quirking a brow, Frank said, “Actually, Peter seems to be rather taken by Y/N. I think it’s a good idea for her to keep him entertained. He’s worried the rest of us are barbarians.”
You crossed your arms uncomfortably, but nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, uh, sure.”
“Pimp her out, why don’t you,” scoffed Roman.
“Good. Everyone got their person? Let’s go, people. Stay focused, stay sharp!” barked Logan, and everyone began to pour out of the room at his dismissal.
Roman clapped a hand on your forearm. “Hey, uh, if Prickly Pete there does anything—” He made an unintelligible noise while pulling a sour face. “You know the drill. Stop, drop, and roll.”
“That’s for a fire, Ro.”
“Yeah, but it’ll freak him out enough to leave you alone.”
You spared him a sarcastic smile, shaking your head. “Great advice. Thanks.”
“No, but seriously—just say you have to go to the bathroom or something. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“Okay, Sauron,” you chuckled, shoving him away. “Go. Go and use your wily charms to seduce Naomi into making a terrible decision.”
It was his turn to offer you a lopsided grin. “That’s what I’m best at. Influencing women into years of regret.” With a click of his tongue and a wink, he was off.
When you turned around, Peter was already waiting for you with an expectant expression. Ugh.
This was going to be a long weekend.
The Pierces were a strange family. Who the fuck recited poetry as grace before dinner? Nonetheless, you clapped with a polite smile once Naomi was done with her little poem. Roman rolled his eyes none too discreetly and you kicked at his leg beneath the table.
On your other side, Peter didn’t hesitate to dive into yet another lengthy conversation once everybody began eating.
“I like to have three novels and a memoir going at once,” said the man with a flirtatious smile. “It’s like natural selection.”
You forced a laugh—one that sounded genuine to everyone but the Roys, who knew you well enough by now to know that you weren’t amused at all.
“Hm. I think it’s rather redundant to pit literature against each other in such a competitive fashion. Art is art is art, no?” you responded, quirking a brow as you forked a portion of salad onto your plate.
You’d hoped that your comment would deter Peter from talking more, but your challenge seemed to only invigorate him.
“A bit of healthy competition in a given field never hurt anyone. Pushes people to create better things,” he said, leaning closer to you.
“Mm, well, respectfully, I disagree. I think art—literature, especially—can blossom organically, just for the sake of it. The idea that creativity flourishes under competition is, frankly, just capitalist propaganda,” you said.
To your dismay, Peter tilted his head and quipped, “Isn’t that a bit ironic, coming from you? Goddaughter of one of the richest men in the world?”
Your eye twitched. Beneath the table, Roman nudged your foot.
“It doesn’t matter who I am. My point still stands, no?”
“I suppose we can just agree to disagree. I still enjoy reading several pieces at once… maximum efficiency, right?”
Another fake laugh.
To your surprise, Roman swooped into the conversation, “Yeah, I hear you, brother!” he chirped, trying his best to sound like an intellectual normie—he wasn’t doing a very good job, so far.
Peter spared him a glance, which made him lean even closer to you. “Are you a big reader?”
“Me? Oh. Yeah, big time.” No, he wasn’t. Roman couldn’t even remember the last time he picked up a book and read past the first page.
“Can you recommend anything Oprah isn’t pushing? Any new fiction?”
For a moment, Roman’s panicked eyes met your goading ones. He began to laugh, but cleared his throat when he realized that Peter was genuinely asking.
“Oh, right, yeah, sure I can… I, uh, rather enjoyed The Electric Circus.”
“The Electric Circus?” echoed Peter in a rather pretentious manner. “Who’s the author?”
“Oh, uh, shit! Who was it… it was uh, Timothy Lipton. Yup. That’s him.” Roman was a terrible liar. You were getting second-hand embarrassment just listening to him.
Catching wind of her brother fumbling, Shiv asked, “Yeah? What’s it about, Rome?”
“Uh, it is… about a young man making his way through the world. Except in two different time periods, so it kinda switches back and forth between—uh, yup! And—and the circus part is like, you know, a metaphor.”
Shiv narrowed her eyes. “For what?”
“Ugh. For the anxiety of modern life, Siobhan.” Roman only ever called his sister that when he tried to provoke her, or when he was exasperated with her antics. “Ask Y/N. She read the book. Ask her.”
Incredulous, you swung your gaze from your food to him, brows pulling together.
“You’ve read The Electric Circus?” asked Peter. His phone was in his palms. “I’m not seeing it on Google… Are you sure that’s what it was called?”
You began to fumble with your words, internally cursing Roman for throwing you under the bus, as well. God, he was going to owe you a million favors from now on.
“See, uhm, it was a private little thing, uh—it hasn’t been published yet, exactly. Roman and I were just, you know, we were given the pages because we, uh, we were thinking of funding the novel ourselves! So, yeah… I don’t know why Roman would go and recommend that to you when it isn’t even available to the public yet.” You spared Peter a sweet smile whilst simultaneously stomping on Roman’s toes beneath the table. He retaliated by pinching your thigh.
“Oh. I see. Maybe when it comes out we can talk about it over a cup of coffee, then.”
Roman snorted. You sent him a half-hearted glare.
“Sure. That’d be great,” you told him before the man-child on your other side could come up with a rude retort.
Thankfully, Peter was quick to move on to another topic. Something about how mediocre the movies have been getting as of late. What an asshole.
The conversation was cut off not too soon later by the white nationalist elephant in the room, as Rhea had so eloquently put it—ATN. Logan had vehemently denied sharing their fascistic beliefs, though the Pierces were clearly still skeptical of your godfather. Hell, even you were.
There was more tense silence when Logan was questioned on whether or not Tom would stay on as head of ATN. The matter was never resolved, as he excused himself with a lame excuse of his sick dog having arthritis, pulling Shiv out of the room with him.
You and Roman exchanged confused looks.
By the time they came back, Tabitha was telling one of the Pierces about her willingness to help out her friend. “I’m thinking, like, if they can’t have a baby in six months, I’m just going to offer them my womb. Why not, you know? I’m young, I’m hardy.”
“Wow, Tabs, that’s really nice of you,” you told her genuinely, sipping on some water.
“Good for you,” agreed Marnie Pierce. “I had a friend who did that, it was so great—”
And then there Peter went, butting his fat head into the conversation where it was clearly not needed. “Uh, but if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, what about you two?” He gestured to Roman and Tabitha.
The blonde woman chuckled. “Oh, you mean us planning to have a baby? No, we’re not planning for a baby, because that would require us having sex!”
“Woah!” exclaimed Roman. “Hey, now.”
Peter grimaced. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Yes, you did,” said Marnie, and Peter only shrugged sheepishly.
“No, no, no, it’s totally fine, it’s just not our thing,” Tabitha replied. “We’re kinda like eunuch besties. It works for us.”
Scratching the back of his head, Roman cleared his throat. “She’s joking. Obviously. She’s kidding. We’re actually quite relentless in that regard. Just… fuck city out here.”
You almost choked on the water you’d been sipping, the memories of a certain call you had with Roman resurfacing to the forefront of your mind.
“You okay, Y/N?” Peter asked, lightly patting your back.
“Fine. Just down the wrong pipe,” you winced. “And, you know, the idea of Roman and Tabs going to pound town doesn’t exactly whet my appetite.”
“Oh, don’t be jealous,” said Roman. “It’s unbecoming.”
Before you could snip back, the table fell quiet when Nan Pierce asked who would be taking on the company after Logan. Your godfather purposefully skirted around the topic, evading a solid name entirely.
Then, Shiv made the terrible mistake of announcing herself as the next CEO.
“Wait, uh, what’s happening?” Peter queried.
“Mmh. I think my life just ended,” Roman responded, looking every bit as shocked as you.
More flubbering from both Logan and Shiv. They were fucking themselves over, you could just feel it.
“You know what, maybe this dinner was a little bit premature. Seems like you guys are still working some things out,” said Peter.
“No, uh, this is just some family hijinks,” Kendall tried to protest.
Marcia leaned in closer to Logan to ask, “Is this true?”
That seemed to be the last straw for him, because he yelled out, “Will you stop?”
More tense silence. Your foot rested over Roman’s, which was bouncing up and down rapidly beneath your heel. His hand rested on your knee, gripping a tad too tight.
“Well. I was just thinking that it’s such a beautiful, clear night out. Mark—would you like to guide us on a little after-dinner stargaze?” Nan asked.
And with that, came the end of the dinner.
“Did you guys know?” Tabitha asked both you and Roman as the three of you pushed away from the table to head outside.
“No. No, I didn’t,” said Roman, still in shock.
You had a feeling, sure—there was no way it’d be Connor. Not Kendall, because of his recent endeavors with trying to take over the company, along with his substance abuse. It was between Roman and Shiv, and it didn’t take a genius to see that Logan didn’t think his youngest son was all that competent. That left only Shiv, after all.
“I didn’t know,” you simply said.
The three of you strode out, leaving only Shiv and Logan left in the dining room.
“Those stars were really nice,” Tabitha said, lounging on the bed as Roman aggressively rummaged through the luggage in search of his toothbrush.
He was growing increasingly agitated about the idea of Shiv taking over the company, channeling his frustrations out on the poor suitcase for not presenting him his toothbrush on a golden pedestal. With a groan and a hand carding through his hair, Roman kicked at its side, sending the bag skidding against the wall.
“Ro,” Tabitha called. “I have a meeting on Monday, and I’d really love to deal with your neuroses and talk about it and everything but, uh, if you’re gonna lose your mind in here, I might just see if Naomi would let me crash in her bed.”
The man pulled on his face. He hummed once, then twice, as if he was deliberating over something.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s fuck.”
A disbelieving smile danced across her face. She thought he was full of shit. “Yeah, totally. We do the sex so well, so that’s a brilliant idea.”
Clenching his jaw, Roman clambered onto the bed. “Alright. Come on. Come here, you hot fucking piece of shit.”
He tried kissing her, but his nose knocked into hers the wrong way, his hand gripped at her shoulder at an awkward angle, and his lips fell onto only the upper corner of her mouth, barely even counting as a kiss.
“Woah, easy there, wolfman!” She burst into a fit of laughter, and Roman pulled away with a string of insecure apologies, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, which throbbed from the impact.
“That was awesome,” he bit out, lying face-down on the bed next to her. “I’m so fucking good at this. Sorry.”
“Yeah, you were, like, squeezing my shoulder really fucking hard—”
“Wasn’t that sexy? How I just took you? Bet you orgasmed like five times in a row.” Roman rubbed at his eyes. “Do you want to, though? Like actually?”
She smiled. “Mmkay. Do I want to…? Make love?”
He frowned. “Nope. Wow. I just—” A groan and a sigh.
Features softening, Tabitha reached out to rub at Roman’s back. “Hey. I’m not… uninterested in solving you.”
Roman turned to face her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think we can make it, like… I don’t know… wrong?”
Tabitha was supposed to be dead. Which—and Roman thought this was quite obvious—meant that she wasn’t supposed to be wet. Now, there were a million and one ways for them to have sex and have it be wrong (like how it felt with you, maybe), but he’d suggested for her to play dead because… well, because he didn’t want it to feel like he was having sex with her.
The very thought of fucking Tabitha didn’t sit quite right with him. He liked her a lot, and she was fucking hot as shit, but Roman just… couldn’t. He just couldn’t! Maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off as eunuch besties.
And so it came as no shock to both parties when the dead woman sex didn’t end up working out. Tabitha murmured that the morgue was closing for the night—and that she’d go wank off in the bathroom with her electric toothbrush as a makeshift vibrator. Roman apologized to her again, and curled up in the middle of the bed.
What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he have sex with his girlfriend, like any other fucking person would?
After five minutes of wallowing in his own shame, Roman dragged himself off the bed and did what he knew how to do best: he ran straight to you.
When there was a knock at your door, you were ninety percent sure it was Roman. The other, more terrified, ten percent anxiously wondered if it was Sleazy Pete coming to talk your ear off some more about the latest developments in artificial intelligence.
To your relief, it was Roman, clad in a loose white shirt and soft, dark pants.
“Hey, Romeo,” you greeted, pulling him in and glancing out the hallway, making sure nobody was around to see. “Man, am I glad to see you. I was really scared you were somebody else.”
He made a high-pitched, humorous noise, crossing his arms as you softly shut the door closed. “Peter? Oh, no. He’s too high and mighty to come chasing after you so early. He’s the kind to date the same person for ten years, accidentally cum inside one time and knock them up, which then keeps them chained to his side for the rest of his life. You’re good for now.”
“For now?” You were ready to make another quippy retort, when you noticed the way Roman scuffed his bare feet into the carpet, hand scratching at the back of his head. Something was bugging him. “What’s going on? What happened?”
“Huh? Nothing happened. Fuck off.”
Biting at the inside of your cheek, you reached out to him, holding both his hands within yours. “Rome.”
He parroted your name in an equally emphatic manner.
You sat down on the bed, steering him to sit beside you. “Is this about Shiv?”
Oh. Right. He’d been so caught up with his guilt and shame over Tabitha that he’d momentarily forgotten about that other part of his life that was just majorly fucked over.
Roman shrugged. “She fucked up bad, huh?”
You laid down, which prompted him to follow you, his head leaning on your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling together.
“We all make mistakes. I think your dad probably led her on with a carrot painted with faux gold. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Your long-time friend made a noise of agreement.
Comfortable silence stretched thinly between the two of you. Roman faintly noticed that your hair was damp—you’d probably taken a shower after the walk. After inhaling sharply, he caught a whiff of your body spray: sweeter than fucking cotton candy and it almost made him want to puke. Key word being almost—Roman rather liked the smell. Especially on you.
“You smell good.”
“Mmh. Thanks.”
You arched your back, bones popping with your movement as you mumbled under your breath sleepily. Something within Roman stirred.
“I tried to have sex with Tabitha.”
Suddenly, you weren’t all that sleepy anymore. “Oh? How’d it go?”
“I…” Roman winced. Saying it out loud made it sound so much worse, for some reason. “I pretended she was dead.”
“What?” There was a mildly shocked laugh to your tone.
“Consensually!” he vehemently tacked on. “But, you know, she was fuckin’ dripping for me, so… took the experience away, I guess. I don’t know. I like her a lot. I just don’t… I don’t…”
“You don’t want to have sex with her?”
Another shrug. Roman blew out a drawn-out exhale. “Yeah. I dunno.”
“That’s okay, Rome. You don’t need to have sex if you don’t want to, and you shouldn’t feel bad about not wanting it. That’s literally the definition of consent.”
A part of Roman seemed to melt with your words. Your affirmation that there wasn’t something wrong with him (or, at least that one trait of his, he knew there were several other parts of him that you’d consider highly immoral) relieved him more than he’d care to admit.
“Well… I do want it. I just don’t want it with her, maybe?” His voice went all soft yet high-pitched at the end of the question.
Suddenly, you turned your head to him, your nose only a hair’s breadth away from his.
“Well, Ro,” you began, husky and low, “who would you want it with?”
He didn’t need to say it. You knew already.
“Who do you want to touch you?” you murmured, hand reaching out to skim over his chest, his stomach, grazing over the very top of his pants and toying with the band of his boxers. “Who do you want to make you feel good, Romeo?”
A low whine caught within his throat when you leaned forward to kiss up the column of his throat, nipping at the skin lightly. All of his sanity seemed to fly straight out the window when your hand dipped within his boxer, tugging out his semi-hard cock, languidly stroking along the length. He moaned, chest rumbling with the sound.
Your eyelids hung low as you nosed along his jaw, which strained with how hard he was clenching his teeth. “Mmh, you’re a dirty little pervert, aren’t you? Sneaking away from your girlfriend to rut your pretty cock against me. You’re a mess and I’ve barely even touched you, Rome.”
It’d been so long. So fucking long since someone touched him this way. Since he’d let someone touch him like this. Since he wanted someone to touch him like this. It was all you. Just you, and only you.
And so, it was no wonder that he was nearing his orgasm already, twitching within your grasp as he whined louder. He murmured unintelligibly, pleading for something he didn’t yet know.
“Can you be a good boy and cum for me?” you susurrated, planting kisses over his jaw, his cheek, the bridge of his nose. You didn’t dare kiss him on the lips—you weren’t quite sure if that would be too far for your peculiar relationship.
When he came, a loud groan erupted from his throat, which was quickly muffled when you clapped a palm over his mouth, his eyes flew open to meet yours, pupils fully blown, almost eclipsing the molten brown of his irises. You stroked him through his orgasm, murmuring a mixture of degradations and praises all the way.
You pulled back when he began to jerk his hips away with overstimulation, panting against your palm. The sticky spend on your hand glistened beneath the lamp’s warm-hued light, and you brought it up to your face to kitten-lick his cum off his fingers, humming in satisfaction. The sight nearly made Roman pass out. He swallowed hard, propping himself up on the bed on an elbow.
Voice hoarse, he croaked out, “Thanks. Do you, uh… do you need…”
Yes. You wanted it so badly—you wanted him.
But you knew Roman wasn’t really in the right mindspace to reciprocate anything at the moment. And the guilt that weighed heavy in your stomach would’ve only been worsened if you’d pressured him into anything that he might’ve been uncomfortable with.
Baby steps. The two of you had been taking baby steps in your relationship ever since you were, well… babies.
“I’m fine, Rome,” you told him, ignoring the drenched throbbing between your thighs and crawling up next to him to lay down. “You can repay me in the future.”
The haze from his orgasm was beginning to clear away. Roman’s nose buried into your sweet-smelling hair. “With, like, a fuckin’ Baskin Robbins coupon or my tongue up your vagina?”
A soft laugh and a shake of your head. “Both sound wonderful,” you told him, curling up into his warmth. A wave of sleepiness overtook you. It’d been a really long day. “Night, Rome.”
“Night, fuck-face.”
You might’ve simply hallucinated it in your sleep-addled mind, but you could feel a faint brush of lips on your forehead, along with a whisper of thanks. You fell asleep with a smile on your face that night. Roman had taken a picture (with the flash on, which made for quite unflattering lighting) and sent it to you the next morning, giggling his amusing hyena-giggle while the two of you were in the bathroom—with you brushing your teeth and him perched up on the toilet seat lid. It was a tender moment of picturesque domesticism—a life that didn’t quite seem right for the two of you, unless it was with each other.
The rest of the weekend at the Pierce’s estate was uneventful. Everybody had gone home thinking the deal wasn’t going to go through—Shiv had told you her dad fucked everything by refusing to name her as the next CEO.
But, to everyone’s surprise except Logan’s, Nan Pierce ended up calling only a few hours later that she’d sell. You weren’t quite happy with the turn of events, but you supposed that’s just how it was with Logan.
He always won.
Argestes, a business conference for important folk all over the world, was just under a month later. It was a rather prestigious event, the itinerary always decked with the most ludicrously rich and fanciful activities, with only limited invites handed out.
This was to be your sixth annual year attending.
You arrived with Roman practically draped over you, much to the press’ delight. After he made a snide comment about how manipulative you could be when it came to business, you bid him adieu, off to fraternize and mingle with potential allies you might need in your pocket. You were just grateful not to bump into Peter Pierce—the last thing you wanted to do was have him glued to your side for the rest of the weekend.
The next day, when you’d just barely stepped out of your room, you got a frantic text from Roman. It was a link to a journal article about the cruise incidents, followed by a series of question marks and an indiscernible mash of emojis. The last text gave you the room he and his family were in.
You rushed off to meet them there, checking your constantly buzzing phone along the way to see texts fly from dozens of people: Shiv, Gerri, your colleagues, your friends, your coworkers alike. This wasn’t a good look for the company, that was for sure.
When you finally got there, Roman quirked a brow at you. “Have you read this? Tell me this isn’t the greyest shit you’ve ever read.”
“Give me a second, I’ve barely even woken up, much less had time to read the article.” You settled in beside him, opening up the link to begin reading. From across the room, Logan was skimming through a physical copy, glasses on the very tip of his nose as he mumbled under his breath. Shiv was on the other end, waiting for everyone to finish reading.
Finally, you reached the end of the article, slumping back with furrowed brows. “This is, uhm, serious stuff but it’s also really unclear what’s actually being thrown at the wall here.”
“Maybe this, maybe that bullshit,” Roman uttered.
“Rome, careful,” said Kendall.
“Is this one of those things I need a woman to explain to me why it’s bad?” His head knocked into yours. “You tell me—is it bad?”
Offering him a shrug, you huffed out a sigh and scrolled all the way back up to read it again. “It’s bad, it’s fucking awful someone had to go through this—but in all honesty, I expected far worse for a journal article to blow up this much.”
Growing frustrated, Logan ripped his glasses off. “What’s the protein?”
A man you only faintly recalled as Hugo Baker, part of the Parks and Cruises sector, replied, “They found a woman, Keerson. She was working the cruises back in the mid nineties, and name-checked Lester McClintock.”
Gerri nodded. “She says Uncle Mo asked for sex with her and the other dancers to get their contracts renewed.”
“So they fucked?” Logan asked.
“It says sexual exploitation,” clarified Shiv.
“Said subject of the article is dead,” you chimed in. “So the blame on Mo will effectively be shifted onto Waystar. Negligence of ethical conduct, cruise malpractice, so on and so forth.”
A moment of silence filled the room.
“Well, what can we do about it?” Roman queried.
Gerri said, “There’s not a lot of specifics. It’s not detailed. Cold hard facts: it’s one woman in the nineties, not twenty women four years ago.”
This made Kendall’s face sour, as he pulled the bill of his cap down lower over his face. “Great. I’m glad we’re so good at doing victim math.”
“Yeah, well, Gerri’s just saying it doesn’t necessarily punch through,” Shiv defended.
The older brother gestured to his phone. “Sure, but… this is not okay.”
“We know it’s not okay, that’s why we’re preparing a corporate response,” the redhead bit back.
The conversation moved on to PR, which Gerri claimed to be Preston. This was met with Shiv’s vehement disapproval—they were three disgusting, old white dudes who, in her words, would just claim the women to be money-grabbing sluts.
“Call me sociopathic but isn’t this a tiny bit quaint in comparison to the past few years?” asked Roman.
You bit down on the inside of your cheek in thought. “I think they’re hyperfixating on this right now because they see it as a gap in the chainmail. Mo is dead. He’s not around to bear the weight of blame on his shoulders.”
“We’re being punished for the sins of others,” claimed Logan. “No one real gives a fuck.”
You narrowed your eyes at the hot take.
For once, you seemed to agree with Kendall when he shook his head. “No, no, we can’t be seen to minimize. I think we need to loudly and quickly say that this is not okay.”
“The question is, what would make it go away the fastest? Do we say it’s something and fix it, or say that it’s nothing and fuck off?” Gerri asked.
“Something,” pushed Kendall. “There has to be consequences.”
To your frustration, Shiv shook her head. “Nope. Condemn and move on. It’s just good advice.”
“Not to be the only frilly-pink feminist in the room, but this isn’t something to sweep under the rug. It may not seem that serious at first glance because of the vagueness but a few dozen women’s lives were ruined, and that’s just barely what we know because of the NDAs. If we ignore it now, it’ll come back to bite the company in the ass later down the line. The least we can do is compensate them, no?” you said, crossing your arms.
Sinking into a wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight, Logan threw his hands up. “This is bullshit. It’s all about me! It’s not real, it’s not honest. They don’t give a flying fuck for these poor bitches. They hate me! And I won’t be giving them the satisfaction of giving in. So no—condemn and move on.”
You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. You stood still and expressionless.
They started discussing the panel for later that day. The original plan was for it to be Kendall and Roman up there, but having a woman up there would be much more… fitting given the well-timed article’s release. Shiv haughtily refused, but softened upon her dad asking her if she would.
She’d think about it.
And with that, the group began to file out.
The hours trickled on by and before you knew it, there was only ten minutes until Roman and Kendall were supposed to go up for the panel. You were helping Rome rehearse through what he was supposed to say, even though you didn’t agree with the direction they were taking with simply condemning—it was better than not addressing it at all.
It was all going smoothly until Shiv burst through the doors, declaring that she wanted to be up there for the panel, much to both Kendall and Roman’s dismay.
“Come on, man. It’s panicky as fuck,” said the eldest of the three. “It looks… kind of fucking cheesy, to be honest. Like we’re throwing our token woman at it? The woman who’s not even in our company?”
“Well, it can’t be two men up there right now. It just—it can’t. Right?” Shiv rounded her gaze to you, and you shrugged half-heartedly.
“I don’t know, Shiv.”
Standing up, Hugo suggested, “Well, the audience is just expecting Roys, so—maybe we stick at two and someone relaxes.”
Logan’s gaze fell on his youngest son. “Romulus.”
“What? You want to pull me? That—that looks like a humiliation,” your friend heatedly defended.
“We could just say you got sick,” Hugo said.
Both you and Roman made eye contact and you nodded at him to defend himself.
“No. No, you can’t just fuckin’ bump me ten minutes before the panel. That’s bullshit! Fuck that. Respectfully, dad, why is Shiv even here?” he hissed.
“I was invited,” Shiv replied in a serrated tone.
Roman crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, no, I need to be out there. We need to hang together. You know, like, family.”
Rolling her eyes, Shiv drew herself to her full height. “Oh, so you wanna get Connor on the line, get him to come down here, too? Let him dog-pile on so no one’s nose gets put out of joint?”
“I’ll put your nose out of joint!”
“Oh, yeah, you should say that on the panel—!” Shiv pursed her lips. “If you wanna know what I really think—I think you should drop both of them and I’ll do it solo.”
This time, you were quick to say, “Shiv, I love you, but you’re not part of the company yet. To shove you up there alone would look like fucking… empty wokeness. Like we’re smothering the problem with estrogen and calling it a day.”
Roman nodded. “Pretty desperate, Shiv—exploiting the situation for personal gain, hm?”
The three siblings bickered some more until it grew quite cumbersome and repetitive.
Two minutes until the panel.
Logan held up three fingers, and that was the end of that.
The panel was… certainly a panel.
It was a lot of dancing around the subject between Kendall and Shiv. You were pretty sure Roman had only said a grand total of two short sentences.
“We’ll do whatever it takes, you know? We’ll do whatever anyone wants,” he had said.
From where you were watching on a screen backstage, you face-palmed with a sigh.
By the end, Shiv had made the fatal mistake of implying that Logan should step down from his position, going so far as to call him an old dinosaur.
It was a shitshow, painted over with glitter and rainbows. In all honesty, it was an embarrassment to even associate yourself with the company at this point. There went all your business schmoozing and fraternizing for the past two days—right down the drain.
“Nice. Bring your daughter to the slaughter. Did you tell the old dinosaur what you were going to do?” Roman asked his twin once the three siblings returned to the room you were in.
“Hey, I’m sorry, ‘We will do whatever anyone wants?’ What the hell was that?” Kendall asked.
Shrugging, Roman clapped both his hands on your shoulders from behind, squeezing your tensed muscles. “Fuck it, right? It’s just words. There’s no press, anyway. Who gives a shit?”
It was then that Logan walked in, Marcia and Gerri in tow. Roman’s hands slipped away from you to go pour himself a drink and stand by his father.
“It was too much, Siobhan,” said their stepmother. “Dinosaurs?”
Ducking his head, Kendall nodded. “It was over the line. Shiv was over the line.”
Brows cinching, Shiv protested, “Oh, I think it was pretty clear that I was talking about—”
Roman interrupted after taking a long sip of champagne. “No, it was clear, yeah. You tortured the old dinosaur. Barbecued him alive—!”
In a blink of an eye, Logan swung around and back-handed his son straight across the jaw, bellowing out, “Don’t fuck with me!”
The hit rang loud and true across the room. Flesh on flesh, skin on skin, father to son, boot to dog.
Roman fell back with a muffled noise, and you were immediately shooting out of your seat to curl a protective arm around him, placing yourself between him and his aggrieved father. Commotion sprung out—Kendall vehemently yelling at Logan not to touch his brother as if he were a valiant hero, Gerri trying her best to quell the situation with reassuring words.
But all the noise was drowned out in your ears. It was just you and Roman.
It was like you were children all over again, watching with watery eyes as young Roman tried his best to pick himself up after Logan’s frequent beatings. You hadn’t even noticed that your eyes had welled up with a warbling film of stinging tears, heart slamming against your ribcage with staggering, uneven jolts.
He hunched over, working his jaw and spitting into his palm a second later.
A tooth fell past his lips, flecked with blood and spit. You could feel your lips twitch downwards as you tried your hardest not to cry.
Kendall flanked to his left, his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Shiv stood in front of him.
“Rome—you alright?” they both asked. “You okay?”
He worked his jaw again, then shrugged off Kendall’s hand. He was in no mood to be coddled by anyone but you.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fucking fine! Just fucking—leave me alone. I’m fine.” As you began to lead him away, he called over his shoulder. “It’s just a tooth. I’ll get another one.”
Once it was just the two of you in the hallway, Roman dropped the act. It hurt like hell, and he felt safe enough around you not to have to put up a front.
You tugged him into your room with a mildly haunted expression, fingers gripping far too tightly into Roman’s arm. He walked into the bathroom to rinse his mouth out. The water ran a dark shade of pink.
As he gingerly began brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush you handed him, you studied his reflection. He stared back, hating how worried you looked for him.
“You want me to call a medic?” you asked, voice small. “There’s a few on site.”
Roman squinted at nothing in particular, humming. His tongue ran along the part of his gums that throbbed the most. It tasted like copper. A familiar taste. Nostalgic, even.
“No.”
“Do you need to be alone?”
“Fuck, no.”
You rolled a tissue into a tightly-packed bundle, telling him to bite down on it to stop the bleeding. He did as you told, but not without complaining about it tasting like ass. It actually tasted like nothing, but Roman wanted to make you smile. He hated seeing you so worked up.
With that, the two of you made your way out of the bathroom. You made him sit down on your bed and wrapped your arms around him, clinging onto him like a koala to a tree trunk. The both of you slowly kicked off layers of your clothes, trying your best not to break hold of each other in the process. Shoes first, then jackets, then pants, then button-ups.
You were left in a dark short sleeve and your underwear, and he’d tossed off all his clothes except his boxers.
“The Argie awards are in an hour,” said Roman. His lips brushed against your collarbone as he rested his forehead onto the slope of your shoulder.
“I wouldn’t have stripped down to nearly nothing if I was planning on going.”
“You’re gonna miss dinner. You’ll starve to death—and you won’t be allowed to blame me for it.”
“I have a banana somewhere in here. Plus—room service is only a call away.”
“Mmh. Mmkay.”
The tooth was still curled inside his clenched fist.
“Wait,” you murmured against him, crawling off his lap to grapple for your wallet that you’d left on the nightstand. Roman murmured unhappily at the loss of warm contact, rubbing his palms up and down your legs. “I don’t really carry cash around these days but… I always keep a few spare coins in here.”
He watched as you fished through the slits, brandishing first a dime, then a nickel. Another dime.
Then you pulled out a quarter, grinning widely.
“I’m supposed to slip this under your pillow while you’re sleeping, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna let me get up for the rest of the night,” you whispered, crawling back to him and throwing a leg over his waist. He curled his own legs around you as well, leaning his weight into you. His head throbbed, his jaw throbbed harder, his heart throbbed the most.
The cool metal of the quarter fell into his free hand. Then, he unfurled his fist. You stared down at the bloody tooth with unsure eyes.
“You have pretty teeth,” you told him after snapping out of your initial frozen state, pressing your nose into his uninjured cheek. “Even when we were kids, you had the prettiest pearly whites.”
Roman smiled, even though it ached to. “I remember you chased me around for my tooth once. Like a fucking freak.”
“Hm. You loved it, Romey.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he said, trying his best to be dismissive. Then, he craned his arm to place the tooth on the nightstand.
You yawned, and he followed closely after you.
“It’s only eight at night. We’re falling asleep at fuckin’... fucking granny hour,” he grumbled.
A giggle, cut off by another yawn. “I don’t blame us. It’s been a long day. Sweet dreams, Romeo.”
“Night, fuck-face.”
“You know I love you, right?” you whispered. A light kiss to his throat as he swallowed.
“Obviously. You’re infatuated with me. Obsessed, even.”
If one was infatuated-slash-obsessed with the other, it’d most certainly be Roman.
You hummed and grinned into him. You didn’t deny his words, merely huffing with amusement. “I’m going to take your tooth and sell it on EBay for a hundred bucks.”
I’m fucking in love you, he wanted to scream.
“Fuck off,” he said. “It’s worth a million bucks at least. Shut up—stop fucking smiling, you freak. Go to sleep.”
You settled against him some more, and drifted off a few minutes later, listening to his heart beat from his throat.
You weren’t entirely sure what had transpired during the last few hours of Argestes, but there was one thing made clear: Nan Pierce had called off the acquisition entirely. You had no idea what to think of the entire situation anymore. You were just… tired of it all.
Not long after, a team had called you in to record a video message for Logan’s big fiftieth anniversary at Waystar. You were given very little time to figure out what to say, and so your message was short and sweet:
“Hey, Uncle Logan. I think we all owe you a bit of gratitude for giving half a century of your life to the large, ever-expanding field we call media. You’ve always been a constant figure in my life—heh, more constant than my own parents. I couldn’t imagine where I’d be without you. Congratulations, and I look forward to the next fifty years working by your side.”
It wasn’t over the top, and only slightly sugar-coated with falsities.
Once you stepped out of the recording booth, Roman shot you a grin. “Cocksucker,” he teased. “There you go—something you and Rhea can bond over.”
You prodded his chest with stiff fingers. “Shut up,” you fondly told him.
“How’d you even get all that in one fucking take? They had me say ‘I love you, Dad’, like, ten times in a row.”
Before you could retort back, the two of you bumped into Shiv, who was typing away furiously at her phone.
“What do you guys reckon—you think Dad is boning Rhea?” she asked.
With a snort, Roman strode away to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Can’t wrap my head around that. Too steamy. Too hot.”
“You are a walking Freudian complex, you know that, Ro?” you asked him, bumping his hips with yours so he’d move over as you fixed your own drink. “I don’t wanna think about it, honestly. Who my godfather fucks is really none of my business.”
“You’re just jealous. You want daddykins all to yourself!” said Roman in a sing-song voice, which made you purposefully step onto his toes. “OW!”
The hot coffee jostled over the rim of his cup and some of it sloshed onto his chest. He sent you a glare and you kissed his cheek with a sweet smile before moving off to sit next to Connor.
“Yeah, yeah, but we should, like, talk about what this means. We’re… we’re all sensing the shift, right?” asked Shiv.
“Gerri says she’s the new thing,” said Roman as he took a seat beside you, obnoxiously leaning back to drape both his legs over your thighs.
Connor lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Well, it just so happens that Gerri was the new thing a while back.”
“Mmh—Logan made it clear that she was more or less there as a placeholder,” you said, sipping on your cup, watching the siblings over the rim. “Come on—there’s no way Logan is handing the company over to a woman, much less a woman older than fifty. It’s a shame, because Gerri really could’ve been a great CEO had she been given an actual chance.”
It didn’t go past your notice to see Shiv’s face contort with dismay at your words. Not too long ago, she’d been under the impression that Logan was handing the company over to a woman—her.
“I just think we need to be careful,” she said.
“Awh, what’s wrong? You all wedgied up because Rhea stood on your back and worked your arms like an elliptical?” asked Roman, which made both you and Connor snort with amusement.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, we should probably have a plan. You know, in case Dad does something rash.”
It was then that Connor was called away to record his message, and Kendall sauntered in just a minute later. His jacket and pants were noticeably rumpled and a pair of sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Only assholes like Kendall would wear sunglasses indoors.
“Hey, what’s up?” he greeted everyone.
“You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday—you want us to think you got laid. Nice try.” Both you and Roman giggled like schoolgirls, which only had the older man rolling his eyes.
“Well, have fun discussing killing Rhea—” you began.
“There wasn’t anything about killing—” protested Shiv.
“I’m gonna head out. Gotta get some work done before the flight to Dundee. Which, is so fucking over the top, by the way. Even my parents are going for this. They weren’t there for any of my birthdays in the past twenty years, but sure, let’s go to Uncle Logan’s celebration for his fiftieth year working at Waystar.” You nudged Roman’s legs off of yours so you could stand up.
Rome’s eyes widened. “Your parents are coming? Damn. Rhea really went all out, didn’t she?”
You frowned. “Feels more like a personal affront to me than anything. Not looking forward to seeing them, but whatever. See you guys later.”
They all murmured their farewells and you patted Roman’s knee softly before heading out.
Dundee was cold. So cold that you had to wear two layers of thermal socks, and your toes were still cold. Roman made fun of you the entire way into the hotel room, joking about icicles forming beneath your chin.
Once you were finally inside, you cranked your heater up as high as it could go, shedding all your layers off with a grateful moan. It’d been a long flight, and you were exhausted.
Roman laid down on your bed, lazily turning his head to follow your movements as you flitted to and fro around your room, unpacking your essentials.
“There’s better ways to warm up than hanging your wrinkled button-ups,” he quipped. One of his brows quirked upwards in an almost seductive manner.
You laughed at that, fishing out articles of clothing from your luggage. “You’re all bark and no bite, Roman. Besides—you literally brought Tabitha to this event. Where even is she, anyway?”
With a shrug, he remarked absentmindedly, “Oh, she’s off exploring all the joys of Scotland.”
“So… grass and sheep?”
He laughed his hyena-laugh. “Yeah, grass and sheep.” Then, he propped himself up on an elbow to face you properly. “Did you bring a date?”
“Ugh. Didn’t want to bring one. Not with my parents coming. It’ll be a nightmare.”
Something in Roman’s eyes softened. “I would’ve been your date if, uh, if I hadn’t already asked Tabs. To be fair, I asked her before I knew about your parents. I can kick her back to America right now if you ask.”
You paused in your ministrations. “Stop it. I like Tabs. She’s nice. And I wouldn’t have wanted you to be my date out of pity, anyway.”
Roman lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug, lips pursed. “It wouldn’t be pity if I wanted to.”
A beat of silence.
You blew out a sigh. “I’m really here for the image. I’ll say hi to my parents, and then avoid them for the rest of the night.”
“I can help you with avoiding them.”
“Hm?”
“Gerri wants me to secure funding for Waystar to go private. As a… back up plan, in case everything combusts into fuckin’ flames. She wants me to target Eduard. Seduce him, or whatever. You can come with—butter him up with all your oozy corporate rank and that—that pretty face on your face. He wouldn’t be able to resist if we double-combo him.” Roman shot you a lopsided smile that only lifted one corner of his lips. You pushed away the urge to coo at the fact that he called your face pretty. “Or… you can flit around with all of Dad’s cocksuckers and awkwardly bump into your parents two hundred times before the waterworks break out and you make an embarrassment of yourself in the middle of the celebration.”
Done with putting away your clothes, you made your way to the bed and sat down beside him, your shoulder pressed up flush over his.
“You’re a lifesaver, Rome. Yeah, of course I’ll come.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can repay me with a blowjob.”
You laughed, but a small part of you wondered if he was serious.
“Any other ways I can repay you? None that could, uhm, potentially warrant a lawsuit?”
Roman scratched at his chin in thought. “Yeah, actually—what if we got, like, married?” His voice went all soft and high-pitched. Lilting. Tentative.
Your eyes widened at first, then narrowed thinly. “What?” you asked, partially incredulous. He was joking, right?
Right?
“Not like—” He gestured aimlessly. “Not like that. Not actual marriage. Like something equivalent to that—like me chaining you down in the basement, or something. Like me kidnapping you and keeping you hostage.”
“Romeo, what the hell are you talking about?” You sat forward, your face all the closer to his. “In what world is that equivalent to marriage?”
Nervous anxiety clawed within his stomach. “Jesus Christ, I’m not talking about marriage. Just something on that fucking level of us being tied together. I don’t know, you chop off my dick, I chop off your tongue, whatever the fuck. You know, like, you eat me, I eat you—like they do in Germany.”
You were pretty sure that’s not what they did in Germany.
“You know what I mean.” His eyes were pleading, asking you for something you weren’t quite sure of.
“I… I don’t think I do?” You took one of his hands. “Rome, what’s going on? You’re being… weirder than normal. Did something happen with Tabitha?”
Because he was in love with you and he had no idea how to say it.
The answer to Roman was simple: he just wouldn’t.
Hastily, Roman pulled away from your touch. He rolled off the bed in one single motion, almost tumbling over his own feet as he scrambled to the door. He tried to ignore your crestfallen expression watching him put more distance between the two of you.
“No, nothing happened with Tabitha. Just, uh—just think about it. I’ll text you the details to meet Eduard. Bye!” He was already halfway out the door with his last word.
You screwed your lips to the side in puzzled exasperation, and blew out a heavy sigh.
The pub was nearly empty, save for a snogging couple near the back, and a few scattered about the seats casually sipping their ale as they watched the soccer match on the mounted television above the bar. Amongst them was Eduard, standing out like a sore thumb with his crisp suit and his dark, slicked-back hair. Just the sight of him seemed to cost money.
“My God, you smell like cotton candy—I almost want to lick your neck. Don’t you want to lick his neck, Y/N?” Roman asked instead of greeting him like any regular person would.
You shot him a half-hearted glare before sticking your hand out. Roman had always been one to overstep boundaries. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Asgarov.”
“Oh, please, Eduard is fine. And the pleasure is all mine,” he languidly drawled, eyes darting up and down your form as a pleased smile curled the corner of your lips. He firmly clasped your palm in a handshake. “I’ve heard much about you—general manager… the glue of the company, some people say. But Roman never mentioned that you were so beautiful.”
A large part of Roman’s insides bristled with hostility, an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he plastered on a strained smile anyway. “Yup, yeah, forgot to mention. But, uh, yeah, thanks for coming, man. My dad’s going to be very pleased when he sees old friends and whatnot…” He waved the bartender over to order himself a pint, and added on a non-alcoholic beverage for you—he knew you didn’t like to drink during the day. Then, he caught sight of the television. “What’s this? Who’s playing?”
“Scottish,” replied Eduard, taking a sip of his own beer. “I’m thinking of getting in.”
Your eyebrows raised a notch. “Mmh, smart choice. Lots of buried money in European soccer leagues.”
Eduard spared you a warm smile.
A frown crossed Roman’s features—he was starting to regret inviting you, even though he’d been the one to suggest you flirt him up.
“Scottish kicky-ball,” he remarked. “Looks like two eunuchs trying to fuck a letterbox.”
His foul comment went largely ignored by the two of you.
Eduard was certainly an attractive man, you thought once you watched his tongue draw out to run along his lips in thought. “I’m liking the look of Hibs,” he said, eyes trained on the television, flitting down to glance at you for a second. “Or Hearts. I’m undecided.”
“Hearts?” asked Roman. “That’s my dad’s team. The only childhood relic he can stomach.”
Hazy memories of seven-year-old you peeking over the expensive leather couches to see what your godfather was watching on screen came across your mind. It always cycled through the same three channels: ATN, soccer, and old black-and-white English films from the fifties. You never stayed for long, always darting out of the room in fear of him turning to see you there, watching along with him. But from the little that you did catch a glimpse of—you could only barely recall the green insignias and jerseys of the Hibs on the screen.
“I think he was a Hibs fan, no?” you asked, thanking the bartender when he slid your drink over.
Roman scoffed. “Pfft—I think I’d know which team dad likes.” You didn’t bother trying to argue with him. After all, your childhood memories weren’t exactly the most reliable source.
With a half-minded hum, Eduard said, “I’ve got an agent in Spain. I buy the club, he loans me nine shit-hot players. Climb the ladder, take the second Champion’s League space, UEFA goes full European super-league, flip it, walk away.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds fucking slick, dude,” Roman replied, sipping on the frothy part of his drink. “Slicker than cum on a dolphin’s back.”
“You want in?” asked Eduard.
“Mmh, maybe. But before all that—can we talk about what we talked about before? You know, a major injection, or even taking us private. Have you talked to your dad?” asked Roman.
A smile and a nod. “It’s a conversation we can have—I have total, three-sixty latitude to work on my father’s behalf.”
“Great. Yeah, cool. No, me too. Yup.”
He didn’t, but you wisely kept your mouth shut.
“Weird, how much we’re the same,” said Roman, playfully punching Eduard’s shoulder.
“Yeah, you guys are practically twins,” you quipped, smiling over the rim of your glass. “Couldn’t tell the two of you apart.”
The dark-haired man tilted his head. “Buy them with me. We’ll split it fifty-fifty.”
“I, uh…” Roman spared you a look, silently asking you if he was being stupid with his rashness. “I don’t really see a downside, other than zero knowledge or interest in Scottish football. But, yeah! Hearts. Sounds fun.”
“Hibs,” you said.
Roman wrinkled his nose. “Hearts.”
“Hearts, it is,” said Eduard.
It wasn’t Hearts.
After Kendall’s laughable rap song about—what was it—stanning his dad and calling him the OG, Roman had broken the news that he’d bought the Hearts club as a present for Logan on such a special day.
Logan fixed the three of you with a blank stare.
“The Hearts?” he echoed.
Roman spread his arms, wiggling the tips of his finger in a sad rendition of jazz hands. “Mhm.”
“Hearts Football Club?”
Roman nodded.
Shiftily, Logan looked towards you. He always looked to you for clarification when he couldn’t understand his son—which was quite often.
“Uhm, Roman bought the Hearts for you,” you said, voice small.
“It’s your team, right?” Rome asked.
A beat of silence.
“I’m Hibs,” said your godfather.
You fucking knew it.
“You’re Hibs,” parroted Roman, his shoulders beginning to droop. “Really? Are you sure? I thought you were Hearts—I’m pretty sure you were Hearts, dad.”
Scratching at his chin, Logan softly said, “You know what, maybe you’re right. Hm. How would I know what team I’ve supported all my fucking life? Who knows—maybe I supported Kilmarnock. Or Fucklechester Rangers? I mean, how could I possibly know?”
Roman recoiled as if he’d been kicked. Eduard patted his shoulder, and brushed his hand along your lower back as he slipped away, chest burning with secondhand embarrassment.
“Sorry, Uncle Logan, there’s just been a, uh, a miscommunication—” you said, hastily tugging Roman away. The two of you wove through the crowd until you got out of the large room, into one of the quieter halls.
You chewed on your bottom lip, watching Roman frustratedly pace back and forth in front of you. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he snapped out, “I thought he was fucking Hearts, dude!”
“... I told you, Ro.”
He scowled. “Ugh. Shut up.”
Before you could ask if he could maybe switch somehow, two figures pushed through the doors, coming to stand in front of you. You tore your gaze away from the flustered man, fixing your eyes on—
Fuck.
“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N,” said your mother. In her hand was a glass of wine, half empty. “You’ve grown quite a bit. Have you gained weight?”
She reached out, but you immediately stepped back, closer to Roman.
After getting over your initial shock, you cleared your throat and tentatively responded, “Hi, mom. Dad.”
The couple gave you an awkward onceover. It’d been years since you last saw them, with maybe one or two texts exchanged every year for the holidays. Though, even that wasn’t a guarantee.
“We, uhm, we saw you rush out with Roman here and thought we’d say hello,” said your father, sparing you a terse smile.
“Wow.” Roman, unsurprisingly, inserted himself into the conversation. “And the parents of the year award goes to…”
“You thought you’d say hello. Jesus—I haven’t seen either of you in fucking forever and the first thing you do is nitpick at my appearance?” you growled, fists clenching by your side. “Listen, if you want to be in my life, then be in my life. But you can’t pretend that everything is okay when you see me and then promptly waltz off and disappear for another decade or two.”
Your mother sipped at her wine, at a loss for words. They glanced at each other, both wearing a mildly guilty expression, but had really nothing to defend themself with.
With an angry scoff, you stormed back into the room where Logan was about to give his closing speech, shoulder roughly knocking into your father’s as you brushed past him.
Roman scratched the back of his head, left alone with your parents.
“For the record, Y/N is doing fucking great without either of you. You know—crunching those numbers, being a goddamn messiah for the lower-level employees, fucking the boss. All that jazz.” He grinned and hum-laughed when their eyes widened in shock, and sauntered in after you. It wasn’t exactly that white of a lie. You’d given him a handjob and the two of you technically had phone sex—would those two activities put together constitute as one whole traditional, in-person fuck?
He’d come in to stand beside you and Tabitha just in time to hear his father make the announcement.
“... And I shall be appointing Rhea Jarrell as my Chief Executive Operator.”
The crowd burst into applause. Roman clapped with a faux-surprised expression. When he glanced at you, you were wiping the corner of your eyes with the back of your palm and hastily clapped along.
Once the cheers began to mellow away, Roman stopped clapping to lace his fingers through the gaps of yours, squeezing tight. Your eyes watered even more at the contact, but you squeezed back in gratitude.
There was an interview of James Weissel on the television: a whistleblowing interview tossing Gerri, Kendall, and Tom into the stinking shitpot that was the cruise incidents, accusing the three of covering up McClintock’s actions. Logan had shut it off before anybody could finish watching.
Whilst everyone was busy prattling off about how bad of a situation this was, Gerri seemed to be the one lighthouse amidst the storm.
“I say we tell the truth,” she calmly said, adjusting her glasses to sit higher up her nose. “The family knew nothing of this. We throw Mo overboard. Mo, bad apple. Jim Weasel, bad apple. Spies a book deal—sotto voce, backed by Sandy and Stewy. All corporate fuckery, no real concern. In terms of historic shit? I say we give up Bill. He should’ve let us know what he discovered rather than cleaning up without telling us the details.”
Bill had been the old Tom before Tom was, well, Tom.
And so there was the strategy: letting Bill take the fall, and kill him off. It wasn’t… a decision you necessarily felt good about, but it was the least messy the situation could be.
Things felt like they’d be smoothed over, just for a little bit.
But then Siobhan came in, phone clutched tightly in her hand. “Gil is going to call for hearings.”
This stirred up quite a murmur in the room. Both Kendall and Frank sat up in their seats with incredulous questions on the tip of their tongues.
“Yeah, Senate Commerce. Probably House, too.”
Gerri was on her phone in an instant. “Buckle up folks,” she said while scrolling through the news. “We’re going to get an invite to the national latrine. See who’s going to take a public dump.”
“Mr. Fuck is going to Washington,” Shiv sighed.
It was then that Logan let out an ear-splitting bellow of rage. It shocked both you and Roman into flinching.
“NO! I CAN’T HAVE THIS NOW!” he screamed in distress.
There was a long moment of silence.
In a leveled tone, you asked Shiv, “Who’s testifying?”
“Uh, well… well, they’d want Dad.”
Kendall quickly protested, “No, we can’t—we won’t let that happen—”
“Protect the egg chamber!” said Roman. Nobody could quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not.
It was then that Hugo suggested Gerri and Tom to testify. The group went back and forth for a little while longer on what the play would be, but it was quite clear that everybody was already settled with Gerri and Tom going up there.
To your surprise, Logan called for you and Roman out of the room.
A part of you wondered if he’d beat Roman over the head with his fancy business shoe for buying the wrong soccer team. You certainly wouldn’t put it past him, especially in his already-agitated state.
“I need both of your help,” he told the two of you once you were out of the room, lingering by the foot of the pristine staircase.
“Need someone to run to the store for smokes?” Roman asked, his hands propped on his hips.
“This’ll go on all night… and it might not be okay,” your godfather said.
This made you tilt your head. “Will this really sway the shareholders into folding? It happened under our noses three decades ago, and the perpetrator is dead.”
“The very fact that we’re being called to testify will spook the shareholders. I’m on a knife’s edge.” He grunted softly as he lowered himself to sit on one of the lower steps of the cold staircase. “Ten bad minutes on camera, and that could be it. The end.”
Roman’s brows raised. “The end? Come on, Dad.”
“I need the two of you to chase down the sovereign wealth money,” said Logan.
You and Roman glanced at one another. Was he being serious?
“Right. Uhm… I mean—that’s… it’s a cool idea, but it’d be a stretch, no?” Roman tentatively brought up.
Logan leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his elbows, which were resting upon his knees. Though he had made himself physically smaller, he’d always be the biggest presence in the room. “We need that central Asian money. It’s a time out from the responsibilities of being a public company. That’s a fucking lifeline, if I’ve ever seen one.”
“They’d be taking on a massive amount of debt. That’s a… huge responsibility, Uncle Logan.”
The older man snorted. “Which is why I’m making you go with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Keep it under wraps. And bring Karl and Laird with you, as well, for the financial matters.” There was a pause as he studied the two of you. “Can you do it?”
Roman scratched anxiously at the back of his head. “Fuck, Dad, I want to say I can. But, I’ll be honest—if it’s, like, really important… I mean, I can say I can do it—like one of those firefighters in the movies. But I don’t know if—”
“You act the fuckleknuckle, but you know… people like you.”
There it was. A narrow slant of light. It wasn’t real—at least, you didn’t think it was—but it was warmth regardless.
Roman’s features twisted. “It’s a really big fucking deal.”
“Nah. It’s getting the right number from the right suit. Getting your dick in there is easy. Getting into bed—that’s the hard part,” said his father. “You can do it. Both of you can.”
You scuffed your shoe against the floor just as Roman’s nose twitched.
“Yeah. Sure, dad, I got it.”
Logan pushed himself off the staircase, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. The light was warm, and far too addicting. He smiled softly.
It wasn’t real, you had to remind yourself. It’s never real. But did that really matter? Did it?
“You’re brilliant, my dear. A real force to reckon with. I trust you to hammer the nail right on its head,” he said.
You swallowed harshly. “I hope we won’t disappoint, Uncle.”
When he pulled away, he began to make his way towards the doors once more. “Keep me close,” he said.
And with that, he was gone.
Roman let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.
“Why does it feel like we just dug our own graves? I feel like I’ve got fuckin’ dirt in my eyes,” he lamented just as you leaned your head onto his shoulder. “You know, if the company ever kills you off, I’ll quit. I don’t know how I’d do it around here without you.”
“All bark, still no bite,” you quietly told him. “You wouldn’t leave the company. Not on your own free will.”
Like a caged dog: it was only able to escape if their owner opened the door for them.
“I’ll kill myself if they kill you. I mean it—I’ll eat a fucking silver bullet.”
“How romantic.”
“Mhm—we’re like fuckin’... Romeo and Juliet.”
He smiled, and so did you.
“C’mon. Let’s go watch the grown-ass men I bought kick around balls for a bit,” said Roman.
Eduard greeted you at the soccer team’s practice field with a kiss on the cheek, Roman with a firm handshake.
“It’s good to see you,” you told him with a genuine smile.
“Good to see you guys, too,” he replied. His expression was well-guarded behind a pair of dark shades. “With everything I’ve heard going down at Waystar, I was surprised you even showed up.”
With a shrug, Roman said, “I have nothing better to do, I promise. I’m gonna cut right to the chase here—do you think there’s any chance you guys have the muscle to take us private? Is that something that’s interesting to you and your dad?”
With nearly no hesitation, Eduard bobbed his head in an affirmative.
Shocked, Karl asked, “Really? That’s…”
Eduard spared the older man half of a grin. “Yes, we’re interested. It’ll look good as part of our portfolio, and we like the news expertise you can share.” Just as Laird began spewing off details to tell Logan, Eduard cut him off by saying, “Actually, Roman, Y/N—can you guys do it? The two of you make quite a team. You and your… bum-boys here can come to Turkey tomorrow? Pitch to me and my Dad?”
You and Roman exchanged earnest glances, as if speaking to each other telepathically. You were sure you could push back your work at Waystar for a few days to settle the privatizing deal.
“Absolutely. I think we can definitely do that,” said Rome, with a pleased hum. Then, he turned back to fix his gaze on Laird and Karl. “Ain’t that right, bum-boys?”
“Why Turkey?” you asked, brows raising. “I mean, I can pitch to you anywhere, but why, you know, all the way across the ocean?”
“There’s an investing conference in Bursa. Everyone will be there—we can get into it. Unless you have any objections…?”
Hastily, you shook your head. “No, no. This is great. Thanks for the opportunity.”
“No problem,” said Eduard, watching the ball fly across the field, landing into the goal. “I like you guys. Really.”
The coach called for the team to huddle up, allowing for the owners to say a few words. A part of you wondered if Rome even remembered the name of the FC he had bought.
“Great session, guys. And listen, for Saturday, you have the ability, you have the mentality. Watch that press doesn’t leave you exposed on the turnover, and you fucking got this. Rome?” Eduard turned to your friend, who hadn’t really prepared anything to say.
Roman fixed you with a panicked look, but you nudged him forward with a purse of you lips.
Scratching the back of his head, he awkwardly started, “Uh, yeah, hey guys! Really proud to be associated with all of you. Uh, well, what the fuck can I tell you that you don’t already know? You, uh, you got all this guys, don’t worry about it. ‘Cause you guys are a team, and, uh, when a team… is a team… it can’t actually physically be beaten. It’s impossible. So, go hard, go fast—uh, go you… lovely bastards.” The team glanced at each other and began to awkwardly clap, before Rome looked to you and said, “Anything else you want to add?”
“Me?” you hissed under your breath. “Rome, I’m not an owner—”
“Just say something—!” he whispered back, yanking you forward by the arm.
Stiff, you waved at the litter of sweaty, jerseyed men in front of you. “Hi. Yeah, I’m sure you guys know I’m not one of the team’s owners, but I was there during the business negotiations as Roman’s, uh… co-partner. All I can do now is wish you all the best of luck for your next match—get some rest, eat some good food, keep your eyes on the prize. And if any of you want to get in touch with Waystar Royco for any sort of PR pitches to get your face out there… Coach will have me and Roman’s contact details.” With a smile, you stepped back, shoulder brushing against Roman’s.
“Fuck you,” he muttered bitterly. “Did you rehearse that in your head or something? How’d you manage to perfectly squeeze business into a fucking pep talk?”
You grinned and pinched his cheek lightly. “Go hard and go fast, you lovely bastard,” you mocked, voice rife with fondness, chortling when he swatted your hand away.
Before you knew it, you and Roman (and the bum-boys) were in Turkey, pitching to Eduard and his team. You had tried practicing a little the night before, but Roman had tossed all the flashcards away out of part-frustration and part-cockiness, assuring you that things would be fine.
Now, as he was speaking, he seemed pretty confident in his own words. The two of you made a good team, after all.
“Look at the cash flow,” said Roman. “We are undervalued. I think tech just had everybody shitting their pants about legacy media, but really, the wheel turns.”
You nodded with an emphatic smile. “It’s true. No matter how much content moves to streaming sites, people will always want to look for something physical. Something you can feel and experience outside of home—hence Waystar’s adventure parks, and films to experience in theaters.” You made great effort to skirt around the touchy subject of cruises at the moment.
“Most tech is overvalued. We’re profitable. We’re real money,” Roman added, growing more assured of himself with your support.
“Tech is always changing. Invest in one thing, and it’ll be outdated in a blink of an eye. Invest in things people will always need: news, broadcasting, life experiences… now that’s reliable.” Eduard flashed you a smile, as if he was already sold.
“This is a tremendous opportunity,” said Rome. “This is once in a lifetime. You get to buy into the US media landscape at the very top. The very top.”
Two of the men leaned forward to whisper indistinctly to one another.
“It’s a lot of debt,” one of them said once he finally pulled away. “You sure you can pull it together?”
“Absolutely sure,” Roman said with a mild laugh, knowing things with money and debt were quite rocky at the moment, before pointing back at Laird. “Jaime here is the fucking master of leverage. He has structured some of the biggest LBOs in history.”
“Guilty as charged,” said the older man.
Before anyone could say anything else, the doors to the room opened, and a few men filed in, murmuring indistinctly to the security. Your brows pulled together upon seeing guns strapped to their forms.
Roman exchanged a worried look with you.
“Are they, uh… are they with you?” he asked Eduard, who got up off his seat to speak to them in hushed tones.
“Rome, they have guns,” you murmured as you placed a hand on his forearm, glancing back at Karl and Laird. “What’s going on?”
The atmosphere seemed to chill when Eduard turned back to the four of you.
“Hey, look, we’re good. We’re good. But, uh… we’re all gonna go with these gentlemen now, okay?” He raised his hands in an almost placating manner, as if trying to tame a nervous mare.
Roman pointed at the armed men. “We’re going with them?” He laughed nervously, wondering if this was one big, elaborate joke. “Uh, no… I don’t think we—uh, who are these guys, exactly?”
Genuine fear began to curdle in your stomach when you watched the security walk out. “Dave just walked out. Hey, Eduard? I just—I need you to be honest with me. Are we in danger right now?”
Eduard worked his jaw in thought. “We’re just going to go with them now. Okay? It’ll be fine.”
“No, uh, I just—Can I just ask what this is in regards to?” Roman stepped in, high-strung. “Is this about the meeting? Is this a business thing?”
Did I fuck it up and put a loaded gun to my own head? he wanted to say, but bit his tongue before he could.
With a sharp tone, you asked, “Our security guy, Dave, he just walked out with them. Where’d he go? Is he coming back?”
“Dave’s not coming,” said Eduard with pursed lips.
“He’s not coming?” Roman parroted. “Uhm… I would actually really like for Dave to come?”
“Dave is downstairs, we’ll go without him,” Eduard said in a calm tone. “Dave is a security risk. It’s better with these guys, okay?”
“Well, I know Dave, and I sure as hell don’t know these guys so… I think I’d prefer Dave—” you began to say, but was quickly cut off when Eduard put a hand on your shoulder and began leading your tense form out the room, Roman hot on your heels.
“It’s all good. It’s all under control,” Eduard murmured, though you highly doubted it. “There could be a situation, but we’re being looked after.”
A frown crossed Roman’s expression. “Oh, great. We’re being looked after. Fucking great. Laird—can you call Dave?”
They pulled out their phones, but the vested men with guns took the devices away just as quickly as it was pulled out. One stood in front of you with an expectant expression, and you complied with no resistance, handing him your phone, though not without a scowl.
“Great. They took my phone, and now I can’t contact my security, and now we’re going to die,” Roman said. When you looked at him, you could see genuine, restless fear dance over his irises. You didn’t quite know what to say, so you simply squeezed his arm as the two of you walked along.
The armed men led all of you to a crowded hotel lobby, where there seemed to be more hostages, more armed folk in similar attire.
“Fuck,” Roman mumbled under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t business, is it?”
“Doesn’t look very business-y,” replied Karl.
When someone passed by and their gun brushed against your arm, you flinched back into Roman, your lips pulling back in a snarl. “Eduard. Fuck—Eduard, where the fuck are you taking us?”
“Just relax. This is normal,” he said, shiftily.
Roman scoffed. “Oh, yeah. This feels really fucking normal. Is this—are these guys terrorists? Where’s my fucking security guy? Where’s Dave?”
For a moment, Eduard seemed at a loss for words. You could feel dread pile up in your stomach. “It’s just… it’s an administrative action function,” he reluctantly said.
“Mm, yeah, great, and what exactly is that—?” Roman began to ask, before halting his own question when he trained his gaze on a struggle across the lobby. “Oh, wow, look at that. Guy not being allowed to leave the hotel at gunpoint. That’s—uh, yeah. So what’s… what’s this administrative action function?”
Pursing his lips, Eduard finally fessed up, “There’s just a gathering here now, of us and some other investors, and—”
“Men with guns?” Roman impatiently chirped.
“Yeah, yeah, that, and their guys are some kind of… anti-corruption kind of guys and this is like—it’s like their conference. Or, uh, a party of some sort. And we’re all invited.”
Your eye twitched. “That’s really lovely, but uh, what if I don’t want to go?”
A scream from somewhere over the crowd echoed through the lobby. Glass shattering followed soon after. Karl paled and he anxiously picked at a hangnail.
Eduard sighed. “It’s the kind of party where you have to go. It would be… rude.”
Roman stared at the ground, at nothing in particular. “Well, uh, I guess I wouldn’t mind being just a tiny bit rude.”
It was becoming more and more clear that no amount of protests or questions would get you out of this situation—not with every exit manned by armed personnel. The hostages in the hotel were soon herded into a large hall, empty save for bare white chairs for people to sit on. Eduard was led into a different room, and you briefly wondered if that’d be the last time you ever saw him.
You blew out a breath as you took a seat. Roman was quick to snare Laird into playing a multitude of games, like rock, paper, scissors, eye spy, and fuck, marry, kill. You didn’t pay much attention to them, instead trying to figure out what you’d do with yourself once you got out of this situation. One thing was for sure: your therapist was going to have a field day hearing this.
“Where do you think they’re taking them?” you asked the men beside you when they began grabbing hostages and shoving them out the doors.
“Doesn’t look like they’re gonna be taking a tour of the spa,” said Laird.
“My advice,” Karl huffed, looking awfully sweaty, “just don’t look at anything. If you don’t look, you’re not a witness.”
You buried your face in your hands. “Wonderful. Brilliant advice, Karl. At least you didn’t tell me to just take it if they decided to shove their dicks into my mouth.”
“Woah!” exclaimed Roman, eyes widening. “That’s not going to happen. Right? That can’t happen.”
You spared him a shrug, slumping back against the chair. Though, you were quick to sit up straight again when Eduard emerged from the doors, making a bee-line for you and Roman.
“Hey, guys. It’s all good. Things are good. So, uh, my president’s daughter’s husband has asked him to take closer control of some key assets. It’s anti-corruption, but it’s a bit of a power-grab. Some Turkish acquiescence, but it’s all in play.”
If you had to be honest, you understood very little of what he was saying. Whether it was because of your panic-hazed mind, or because he was merely being ambiguous, you couldn’t quite tell.
“Not to, uh, make this all about us…” began Roman, tentative, “but are they going to shoot us at any point?”
“No one is getting shot,” assured the bearded man. “Look, it’s complicated, but with the Zeynal here—there’s some interest about the deal.”
Deal?
Both you and Roman glanced at each other.
“Uh, fuck. Okay. The deal, sure,” said Rome.
“One thing they wanted clarity on was—how could they be sure the deal wouldn’t be blocked by your government?” Eduard asked.
You stuck your tongue against your cheek when Roman shook his head, “Well, it wouldn’t. My father has a lot of sway. I mean, he can’t lock up his opponents in a hotel, but, well, he kinda could.”
“And you’re the target of another bid? Won’t that be a problem?”
Sandy and Stewy. “Not a problem,” you quickly said. “They’re all bark, very little bite. If the price is right, we can easily reach a settlement before the shareholder meeting.”
With a nod, Eduard patted your knee, and he got up to leave—talk to his associates once more.
“That went well,” said Laird, mildly surprised.
“Yeah… a little too well,” Roman mused.
Hours later, Eduard returned, calling for the four of you to follow him.
It was a pitch. A messy pitch—one you clearly weren’t in the right mindspace for. One where the audience had clear smudges of coke lining their nostrils, dusting their tables. One that had a lot of money thrown into the empty promises, accompanied by high smiles and wandering eyes. It made you feel sick, and Roman clearly wasn’t a fan of it, either. Laird seemed to be satisfied with the mutual agreements, though. He heard money, and he immediately thought he was safe.
But the agreements didn’t feel quite real. None of it felt real. It was all bullshit, you wanted to yell at their face. Being held at gunpoint to play business in front of the coked out billionaires was not your preferred method of saving the company, especially when none of the settlements felt cemented. This wasn’t safe money to bet the entire company on—it might’ve not been money at all, in fact.
By the end of everything, the ambassador had arranged for a plane to finally get you out of the country. You fell asleep as soon as you sat down in your seat, the long hours going without sleep finally catching up to you. Roman curled up in the seat beside you, his head on your shoulder. He stayed awake the entire flight, listening to your steady breaths.
The Mediterranean. The Roys were on a fancy yacht in the Mediterranean.
It would’ve sounded like a pleasant getaway, if you weren’t dead-tired, having just returned from being held hostage at gunpoint. You just wanted to go home. Logan, however, wanted you and Rome by his side—and who were you to say no to the top dog?
As the speedboat skidded to a stop by the yacht, cheers erupted from siblings, along with Gerri and Frank, Greg and Tom. Roman slid his sunglasses on as he clambered onto the larger boat’s deck.
“Here they are! The heroes of Asia!” exclaimed Shiv, a flute of champagne in hand. She was the first to greet you, taking your hand and helping you out of the speedboat. After a kiss to your cheek, you spared her an exhausted smile.
“The lions of Turkey! Welcome back, guys!” chimed Greg. He leaned down to embrace his cousin, but Roman was quick to push his face away. Greg didn’t dare try to hug you after that, merely waving from afar.
Frank clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Back like Odysseus. Did you guys ride out on sheep?”
Snorting, Shiv added, “Yeah, I heard you took down an entire army alone, bro.”
“That would’ve been really traumatizing if you weren’t already so fucked up,” Gerri told Roman, who simply frowned.
“Yeah, who’d you suck off to get out?” Kendall inserted.
Tom smiled widely from behind Shiv. “You were staying at Four Seasons, right? How did you guys escape? Did you—did you build a glider out of a caesar salad?”
Roman squinted at nothing in particular from behind the dark lens of his sunglasses. “Uh, you know what? It was actually fucking scary and we thought they might kill us, but yeah…” The tips of his fingers wiggled in a poor rendition of jazz hands. “Hardee-har-har, caesar salads, har-har. So funny.”
An awkward silence ensued between the small group. You scritched at your neck with a wince, wanting nothing more than a shower and a nap.
“Sorry, dude. Seriously,” said Kendall.
Roman snorted. “Yeah, no. They just raped me a little, but I’m no hero. They stuck their cocks down Y/N’s throat, too. Tell them.”
He nudged you and you shook your head tiredly. “They didn’t do that.”
“See? It got so bad that she trauma-blocked the memories. Shame on all of you,” he said, propping his fists on his hips.
Feeling mildly guilty, Shiv had the gall to rub her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Sorry, Rome.”
“It’s fine. I’m just tired, or whatever. It was funny, actually. Karl almost shat in a bucket and I have it on my phone, so we can fully humiliate him in our daily jerkfest later,” said Rome, tugging you to sit down with him on a large white seat.
“So how’d it all go, business-wise?” Connor asked, eyeing the both of you curiously. “Or was that forgotten?”
Before either of you could say anything, Laird stepped in, shaking his head with a wide smile. “Oh, we can’t say anything about that. Confidential stuff. But they—they did good.”
“Oh! Okay. Promising!” Connor exclaimed, shooting the both of you a grin. “Congrats, you guys.”
Unease crackled between the two of you. When you locked gazes with Roman, he merely lifted one of his shoulders in a shrug, lips pursed. The deal probably wouldn’t go through. It was all empty promises, powdered with a layer of cocaine.
The two of you failed. And maybe that was okay.
Your hand found his, and his head knocked against yours. He drank the beer Shiv handed him, and you drank in the salty air of the sea.
After you’d finally managed to pry yourself away from Roman (or, more accurately, Roman away from you), you had yourself a nice, hot shower, and a long-overdue nap. When you drowsily blinked back into consciousness, it was early afternoon, the sun still high up in the cloudless sky. A part of you wondered how you hadn’t just slept through the entire day.
You cleaned yourself up and changed into loose loungewear, heading down a story of the yacht, where you caught sight of the Roy siblings hanging by the pool (minus Connor, who was discussing matters of the play).
Roman waved at you limply. “Hey, sleeping beauty. You were knocked out for a while. I poked you in all your ticklish spots and you didn’t even stir.”
With a sigh, you curled yourself up into the cushioned spot beside him, Shiv on your other side. On her right was Tom, who had his gaze trained on Greg on the other side of the pool—the Roy’s cousin was… getting his toes looked at by the medic? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t quite want to know.
“You know, if you snuck into my room while I’m asleep and prodded me like a corpse, at least don’t fess up to it. You weirdo,” you said once you finally tore your gaze away from Greg, wrinkling your nose at Rome fondly.
“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” Roman whistled, to which Shiv let out a loud groan of complaint.
Sloshing water from the pool drew your attention to Kendall. “You good, Y/N? Sorry about—if I was, like, insensitive earlier—”
“It’s fine,” you quickly replied. “They were never going to shoot us, anyway. It was all just… theatrics.”
Theatrics. Puppets and strings.
Kendall smiled loosely.
“So, uh, how was DC?” you asked the older man as he leaned against the rim of the pool. “They had it on the TV for a bit when we were waiting to give our pitch.”
He nodded, water dripping from his hair. “Yeah, it was—it was pretty fucking real.”
“You did good,” Roman chirped, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose.
Scoffing, Kendall shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. And what? I did good for—for a crackhead? For a moron on crack?” His voice was lilting with incredulity.
“Nope. You did good, Ken,” he said.
Shiv nodded. “Yeah. You killed it.”
Kendall wasn’t used to genuine praise from his siblings. It was usually edged with an insult, laced with sarcasm or ire.
“It was Tom that, uh… that didn’t really persuade everyone quite as well,” you said, sending an apologetic grimace to Shiv’s fiance.
“You’re being too nice. He shat his pants and puked all over the floor,” Roman huffed with an amused smile.
Tom pulled a cross face. “I didn’t—!” He drew in a sharp breath. “You know, a lot of people are saying I was deadcatting. Yeah. So like—dead cat on the table. Everyone’s looking at this dead cat, and not… not talking about your dad.”
Shiv pursed her lips. “Right. Sure, yeah, you drew the fire. Yeah.”
Both you and Roman exchanged humored looks.
“So, what’s going on with Rhea? She’s out, right?” Roman asked a beat later.
“Mhm. Melted. But she’s agreed not to say anything publicly until after the shareholder meeting,” said Shiv.
You briefly wondered why she backed away, but chalked it up to immense financial risk and potential ethical demise of her career. Good for her.
“Instead of Rhea, whose big hairy foot is going to slip into the glass slipper?” Roman queried. “Washington Ken here?”
His older brother clambered out of the pool, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. “Me? Uh, no. Nope. I mean—Rome, you brought the golden goose home.”
The two of you frowned at the same time. Roman let out a loud sigh.
“Could be anyone,” you said. “We’re right back to square one.”
“Yeah. Could be. I mean, why is Greg here?” Kendall shot a look over his shoulder to glance at his cousin, peering between his own toes.
Roman snorted. “I always ask that question.” Then, he patted your thigh and leaned against you, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his. “I did think—you know, when I thought they were going to vacuum out my innards and fill me with concrete or something—like… if we come through this, is there a thing where we, like, talk to each other about stuff? Normally?”
In a strange alien-baby voice, Shiv mocked, “You wanna twalk to each other nwormally?”
Kendall snickered and tacked on, “You wanna twalk abwout the big shit?”
“Yeah, let’s twalk abwout the big shit!”
“We can talk about—our feewings!”
The siblings joking around for a rare moment reminded you of when you were all younger, with missing teeth and scraped knees. When Shiv’s hair would still be done up in a ponytail and yours would be twisted into pigtails. Simpler times—when things weren’t all that simple but you, in your blissful ignorance, had thought they were.
Though you really didn’t want to laugh, you tried your best to smother down a chuckle, making Roman send you a betrayed glare.
“Wow. Really? You, too?” He lightly shoved you away, and you and Shiv burst into a fit of giggles when you knocked into her. “How am I the most mature one here?”
“Sowwy, Wome,” you crooned in the same alien-baby voice. He kicked at your foot, then hooked his leg over yours.
The laughter dulled away when the whirring of helicopter blades descended over the yacht.
Logan was here.
“Emotional gunship incoming,” said Kendall.
“Yeah. Send out the distress signal,” Shiv added, the smile on her lips fading away as she looked up to see her father fly down. “We’re under attack.”
Logan was smiling. It wasn’t often that he smiled.
He greeted you with a chaste kiss to the cheek, and Roman with a pat to the shoulder. It was warm in the light—brief, but warm nonetheless.
When he hoarded the two of you, along with bum-boys Laird and Karl into a separate room, he immediately asked, “Are you two alright? I heard it got a bit tasty.”
Tasty wasn’t exactly the right word for it, you thought.
“Mmh, we’re fine. I’ve had worse experiences at hotels before,” Roman languidly commented, shrugging it off.
Logan tilted his head. “Did they look after you? I spoke to the White House.”
“Someone came and told us there was a warship,” you said, pursing your lips. “Felt a bit extreme.”
“Knowing us gun-handy Americans, I bet it was already there,” Roman snorted, pouring himself a drink. “The ambassador took us for a shitty lunch—you know, sorry that you were held at gunpoint, have a cheese sandwich.”
Logan gestured for all of you to take a seat. “So… on the money. What’s the situation?”
“The kids did great,” said Laird, which made Roman audibly gag. “I think, Mr. Roy, you’ll be able to go private. Eduard and his father have titular responsibility for the sovereign wealth but the president’s daughter’s husband, Zeynal, is the key guy now. The two of ‘em killed it with him.”
Shrugging, Roman said, “Well, it was clear Eduard was getting sidelined. Zeynal figured out who we were, and I thought we were gonna be taken to get a fucking chainsaw massage but… nope. We had an hour, we pitched hard, and they said they wanted in.”
“Too modest,” Laird emphasized, brows raising. “This is the perfect opportunity.”
It wasn’t. It never was.
Karl went on to talk about the numbers, and Logan seemed quite pleased.
“That’s great. That’s fucking fantastic!” announced Roman’s father.
Rome bit down on the inside of his cheek. He winced, and scratched at his head.
“I just… I do have to say one thing, dad…”
Panic flashed across Laird’s eyes. “Roman, we’re good.”
Ignoring him, Roman said, “I mean, we had a good talk with Zeynal and he said, with his mouth, that he wanted in and that’s great and all… but if this is really serious for us, I think I actually do have to say that it feels like it’s… probably horseshit.”
A beat of silence.
Laird’s eyes twitched.
Clearing your throat, you said, “Yeah, I just wanna make it clear that they said they wanted in, but didn’t sign anything yet. I mean, it’s not like we had any documents on hand but… words mean nothing. Uncle Logan, I don’t know if it’s… really smart to bank the entire future of the company on words of drug-addled men taking a piss out of you.”
Logan’s brows raised.
“It was flaky,” Roman added. “There was a lot of shit going on.”
The head man glanced at Karl, who remained deathly quiet, and then back to you.
“Roman, they want to rebalance their portfolio for, uh, for a variety of geopolitical reasons,” began Laird. “It’s very European-focused, and he wants to tilt Western Hemisphere. It’s all very logical! I know that it’s a lot of money, and that can be very scary, but it makes sense.”
“All due respect, Laird, but I really don’t think they give a shit about adding us to their portfolio,” you said, voice hesitant. “They know we’re in debt. They know we’re in hot water with a large sector of the company. Why would they want in at all, much less hand over a ten billion dollar investment like it’s nothing?”
Roman sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry that we’re worrying our pretty little heads, Laird, but if they’re rebalancing their portfolio, it’d be fucking insane to do it over one ten-bil mega deal like it’s nothing.”
“Yeah, it’d be more sensible that they invest into several different markets around the globe,” you agreed. “None of this feels right.”
“It doesn’t matter what it feels like,” stressed Laird. “They said yes!”
With a frown, Roman retorted back, “Maybe, sure, they said yes! And there’s a ten or twenty percent chance that you’d make, like, a hundred million bucks with this deal. That’s so exciting! But if we miss, we could be fucked.”
Logan’s expression was hard to read. Anger? Disbelief? Disappointment? Acceptance? You couldn’t quite tell.
Swallowing hard, you said, “If we go through with this and none of it turns out to be real, we’d go straight over the edge. No votes, no political gain, no money.”
Finally, Logan murmured, “If it falls halfway through, it’d be terminal.”
A vein popped out on Laird’s head. “But if it works… just one step forward, and you’d be free.”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Free from what? Just because we go private doesn’t mean we can do fuck all.”
Before Laird could argue back, Logan fixed his stare onto Roman. “Son?” he asked.
“Dad, I have to say, I’ve done a little bullshitting in my time—and Zenyal was a cokey, lying, 3 AM scotch and see-you-in-the-morning man. He won’t follow through.”
With a frustrated groan, Laird angrily got up from his seat.
Roman shook his head. “Dad, I wish it was real. I really fucking do. But it’s not—and we have to step away.”
When Logan turned his stare onto you, you nodded in agreement with Roman.
“Karl?” your godfather asked.
The man buckled under the scrutiny. “You can’t lean on this,” he said. “Not now.”
His mind finally made, Logan got up onto his feet. “I’m sorry, Jaime. Keep exploring, keep talking. I cannot pile my chips on something that isn’t solid.”
“Excellent,” sighed Jaime. He looked at you, then at Roman. “You wanna talk solid? Maybe take a look at your kid there. Does he sound solid to you? And—thanks for the support, Karl. I hope you enjoy the king’s favors, because you know what you’re looking at if you don’t go private. Someone has to pay the price. Someone is going to go to jail, and I won’t be around to see it.”
With that, he dramatically took his leave. Roman tilted his head back and rolled his eyes.
“I wanna do the best thing. The most decent thing,” said Logan. His hand was on your shoulder for a moment, before he pulled away. “Tomorrow we’ll get into a discussion about our missteps and how we can indicate how sorry we are to the rest of the world. Get some rest, the both of you.”
As you clambered into bed, Roman unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it somewhere behind him. He’d followed you into the cabin, claiming that there were no available cabins left—and you knew he was lying, because you’d passed by several empty rooms on the way to yours, but you didn’t bother to protest.
“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.”
“Ugh, shut up.”
“You know, I overheard Tom and Shiv speaking to each other,” you said as you fluffed up a pillow to lay on.
“Ooh. Is Tom the one getting shitcanned? No surprise there,” Roman replied, crawling next to you and laid down on his stomach, head resting on his crossed arms.
“No. I mean, I don’t actually know who it’ll be, but—” You paused to smile, near-childish laughter falling from your lips. “I heard Tom saying he was excited for a threesome.”
“Ew! What? Ew! Tell me more,” Roman exclaimed, swatting at your arms and you shoved him back, laughing at his tone. “Oh, that’s so gross. Never pegged Tom as the type.”
“I don’t think it was Tom’s idea.”
“Ew!”
The two of you giggled about it some more, before you lolled your head over to face him.
“Do you think it could be me?” you quietly asked. “Would Logan throw me to the sharks?”
Roman hummed. “Sometimes it feels like he likes you better than any of his own fucking kids. You’re not getting canned. It won’t make sense.”
“Hm.”
He threw an arm over your stomach. “But… it won’t be me, right?”
“I don’t know, Rome,” you told him honestly. “After today… I just don’t know. But I’ve got your back.”
The two of you basked in the comfort of each other’s quiet for a brief moment. You scooched closer to him and shut your eyes.
“You’re a really good friend, Rome.”
Something akin to an amused snort fell from his lips. “Pfft. Friend. I don’t think friends jerk off to the sound of each other’s voices. You’ve had your hand on my dick. Is that what friends do these days?”
“Friends with benefits, then.”
He brushed his lips along your shoulder, light as a feather, barely there. There was a strange ache in his chest. An ache that you also felt. The two of you ached together, unknowingly.
“Hm. I like the sound of that. It’s like you’re my personal whore.”
“It’s a two-way street.”
“Yeah. You fuck me, I fuck you. You kill me, I kill you. Like they do in Germany.”
There it was again. What was with Roman and Germany?
“Sure. Like they do in Germany.”
It was hard to stomach breakfast with your restless nerves shooting adrenaline through your veins. You anxiously plowed through two apples and started on your third just when Logan stepped onto the lower level. Everybody’s attention piqued, their heads turning, postures stiffening up against the chairs around the dining table.
When Gerri tentatively asked him who he had in mind as the sacrificial lamb, Logan waved her away.
“Enough. We stick together, alright? Most things don’t exist. The Ford motor company hardly exists—it’s just a time-saving expression for a collection of financial interests. But this exists, because…”
Roman leaned in close to mockingly whisper, “Family.”
“Family,” Logan finished. “We are a family. And so that’s why I think… I think the obvious choice is me.”
A ripple of shock coursed through the small group. Your eyes narrowed, unsure of what game Logan was playing at now.
“No,” Shiv vehemently said. “What? Dad, you—you can’t.”
Logan tilted his head. It wasn’t often he was told that he couldn’t. “Well, I may not be responsible, but the buck has to stop somewhere.”
The rest of the group erupted in protests. Tom, Kendall, Frank. They were all bleating sheep. Roman rolled his eyes.
“It doesn’t work,” Kendall elaborated. “When people find out Rhea isn’t coming in, we’d need stability. From you.”
Logan raised a single finger. “I need one meaningful skull to wave.” Wave didn’t seem quite the appropriate term. Chop off, maybe. Sever was a good one. “If the shareholders’ meeting was tomorrow, we lose. I need to persuade a number of big figures. So… would anyone like to say anything?”
Crackling silence. Across the table, Greg popped a fat green grape into his mouth.
“I’ll take care of whoever it is,” said Logan. “No one will be forgotten.”
Clearing his throat, Kendall ventured out, “Well, I mean, if we’re doing this, I don’t wanna spread shit around. We’re all loyal servants here. But, uh, I say this without malice aforethought, presumably, uhm, general counsel is the center of the web. Sorry, Gerri. I like you, I do.”
Logan reached out to put his hand over the blonde woman’s. “There is no one more loyal than Gerri,” he said, effectively dismissing the idea.
But you saw right through him. It wasn’t about Gerri’s loyalty. She wasn’t a big enough cut.
“What about Frank?” Roman offered. Everyone was well aware of his disdain for the older man. “How come Frank is even here today?”
Full of ire, Logan’s old friend nodded his head. “Thanks, Roman. I see it. I could take it. I mean, I make sense.”
“Yeah. And after what he did to you? The whole boardroom coup?” Roman lifted a shoulder, convinced that Frank was the most obvious choice.
“Water under the bridge.” Logan brushed away once more. Still not big enough.
After a long while of stammering, Frank finally coughed out, “I would say objectively, considering my, uh, my indiscretion against the family makes me a less compelling sacrifice. Unlike—uhm, for instance, a loyal servant like Karl.”
Instead of defending himself, Karl decided to turn the blade right back around to Gerri. “My thing is, I guess, if Rhea is no more, then sadly, we’re back to having Gerri as named successor. So that fattens her up for the kill, in my opinion.”
“Everyone knows I was just a name on a piece of paper,” defended the woman, laughing incredulously.
“Oh, don’t put yourself down. I think you were always more than that,” scoffed Karl. “And, you know, the old copy book is a bit blotty. Expense accounts… daughter’s first class on the company coin…”
“Karl sounds good!” Tom chimed in. “Sausage thief,” he bitterly muttered, in reference to the entire Boar on the Floor debacle in Hungary.
“Gerri is theoretically kind of perfect,” said Connor.
“No,” Roman was quick to protest. “Nope. That’s bullshit. I disagree.”
Propping his joined hands on the table, Logan asked, “Why?”
“Why? Because that’s my opinion,” Roman said in a defensive manner.
“Yeah… but your reasoning?”
With a hasty glance to you, Roman hastily spun out, “Seriously, Gerri? To pay for cruises? We, what, we take out our senior woman? Haven’t we, you know—kidding, here, but—killed enough women already?”
“It’d look orchestrated. Gerri is just too obvious,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “Sexual misconduct cases three decades ago, and we’d be placing the blame on general counsel and simply wiping our hands clean? Not to mention it’d just make Waystar look more… anti-women if we went down that route.”
Roman nodded. “Listen, I think the obvious choice here is, and I hate to say it because he’s such a swell guy, but—” he made a whistling noise and pointed to the man sitting across from him, “Tom.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, you're the head of cruises, man.”
Kendall pursed his lips. “I gotta agree with Rome here. Tom, I fucking love you dude, but you shat the bed over Mo Lester.”
“But I was sent in there as the fucking beating man—I took the fucking beating!”
Shiv shook the back of her head, making no effort to defend her husband.
“You got suckered in by Eavis,” said Kendall.
“I answered the questions!”
“You don’t answer the questions. Okay? That’s, like, rule one.” Kendall patted his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “I’m not beating up on you here, I’m just saying that he got a win off you and you’re kinda the face of this now.”
Lifting her head up high, Shiv said, “Tom looks logical. Cruises, document destruction. It’d be laid out for us.”
Tom’s gaze swiveled to his wife, expression utterly torn. “What?” he croaked out.
“I’m not saying you should be,” the red-head defended. “But I’m just saying you’re like family, but you’re not… actually family, which is also good. Tom, it’s the elephant in the room. We can say that!”
“No, we can’t! There’s absolutely no need to speak of the elephant in the room! There’s fifteen other fucking elephants in this room!” With an angry scoff, Tom threw both his hands up. “If you want someone who’s family but not family, what about Y/N?”
Immediately, Roman let out a high-pitched, “No! Why would it—why the fuck should it be her?”
Tom’s face contorted under the scrutiny. “I don’t know. General manager of Waystar, and goddaughter to Logan sounds like a good fucking steak to throw to the lions.” At your confused expression, Tom quickly backed down. “I’m not actually saying Y/N. I’m just saying things! It just—it shouldn’t be me. What about you, huh, Shiv?”
“Okay, fine. How do I work?” she hissed out.
“I don’t know!” Tom exclaimed, his voice raising a few notches in volume.
Gerri pursed her lips to the side and mentioned, “I mean, if we’re saying Shiv, we could highlight witness tampering and, uh, that she was going to take over but—I don’t know, it probably wouldn’t work.”
Shiv reared back as if she’d been stung. “Uh, yeah. Too fucking right it wouldn’t work. I don’t make sense, I’ve never been inside.”
“What about both of them? Shiv and Tom? Beauty and the beast,” Roman said.
“Does Tom work?” Logan asked. “Alone?”
A long beat of silence.
In all honesty, you thought he’d work. The missing documents were more than enough to go off of.
But Kendall shook his head, and it flew right out the window. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s a big enough skull. No offense.”
“Then how about Tom with some fucking… Greg sprinkles?” Roman asked, gesturing to his cousin, who’d managed to polish off all the grapes on the tray. One of the workers floated by to take the tray away, no doubt to fill it back up again.
“Greg sprinkles?” parroted Greg.
Wincing, you apologetically added, “I mean, you did destroy those documents for Tom, no? It’s—it's an aided crime. It works.”
Connor laughed. “Elmo and Big Bird. I could start to see that, yeah. You could throw in a Karl or a Frank, and you’re golden.”
“What—what precisely are Greg sprinkles?” asked the Roy cousin.
“Greg sprinkles are basically a fantastic garnish for practically anyone seated at this table,” Roman replied with a faux warm smile. “Like a Tom sundae with a little Greg cherry on top.” He popped his lips and Greg frowned.
“No, I object. I do. I mean—I’m more than a sprinkle! What about you, huh? What about Roman?”
“Roman?” you asked, cocking a brow. “How would he be a good candidate?”
“Well, he’s widely known as a terrible person!”
Roman snorted. “Thanks, Toe Jam.”
“There’s another elephant in the room,” Connor interrupted. “What about I just throw myself over the side, huh?”
Shiv laughed quietly, hiding her smile behind her palm.
“Yeah, just—in return for a payout. I’m cash strapped, so just lock me into that sweet, sweet golden parachute and toss me in the volcano!” said the oldest Roy sibling. On he blathered, about how he should be the one to take the fall.
Logan glanced around. “That’s… that’s kind of you, Con. Thank you. We’ll bear it in mind.” He smiled, but it wasn’t quite authentic. It wasn’t real. Connor slumped back, going largely ignored once again.
With that, Logan stood up. “We have half an idea but… yeah. Let’s do this later.”
Off he went, through the glass doors, gone to God knows where.
You and Roman exchanged a look. His was one of relief and gratitude, yours was one of exasperation. Then, Roman leaned forward to snatch the tray of grapes away from Greg, and offered a branch of the plump green fruits to you.
Dinner left a stale taste in your mouth. Maybe it was because you weren’t particularly fond of the served courses. Maybe it was because of the rocking motions of the boat upsetting your stomach. Or maybe—maybe it was because Logan had finally chosen his sacrificial lamb.
Kendall stood beside his father with pursed lips. Logan nodded to the sitting group. “I’ve decided,” he simply said.
Incredulity danced across Roman’s expression, brows raised. “Ken?” he asked. “Come on, really? Dad, you—no. There’s… what about the… one of the other shitfuckers?”
Your eyes darted from your godfather, to Kendall, who took a seat across from you. He met your eyes, if only for a brief moment. A part of you felt bad for him—after all, to you he was always going to be the eight-year-old boy draped in a suit far too large for him, practicing a speech in front of the mirror for a nameless award he was going to accept one day. He’d make you and Roman sit down and listen to him, four and five years of age, expectantly turning to the two of you after he was done and asking if it sounded okay. Desperate for approval, even if the assurance came from two young kids with missing teeth and bored eyes.
He was practically your brother. You averted your gaze with mild shame burning within your chest.
“Hey, it’s okay,” said Kendall. He looked around the table. “You’re all off the hook.”
Roman leaned forward and asked, uncharacteristically genuine, “You okay?”
Wordless, Kendall nodded. He was trying his best to stave away the frown tugging at the corners of his lips. There were tears warbling over his irises.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.”
But he wasn’t. Roman knew, and you knew, too.
Karl cleared his throat. “Is it just… I don’t wanna be rude here—is it just him?”
Gerri tilted her head. “First—uh, second-born son—with his responsibilities, it wouldn’t be a hard sell.”
“Roman,” said Logan. “You’re taking over as full chief operating officer.”
An indignant noise fell from his throat. “Yeah? What with Captain Cautious back in the other room?”
“No, no. Frank’s going to be responsible for the cruises clean up. You’re on your own. Solo.” Logan stared at his youngest son. “Can you handle it?”
Beneath the table, Roman’s jostling knee bumped into yours. “Yeah,” he unenthusiastically said. “That’s really exciting.”
Kendall spared his little brother a lopsided smile. “No, Rome. It’s great. For real.” Then, he raised a fork. “Eat up, guys. This one’s on me.”
Day three on the boat. You woke up to Roman’s arms wrapped around your midriff, his face buried in the fabric over your chest. He sleepily mumbled and whined when you dragged yourself (and, effectively, him as well, seeing as he refused to let go of you) out of bed. The two of you brushed your teeth together before you promptly kicked him out of your room so you could take a quick shower in peace.
By the time the both of you got down to have breakfast, Greg was the one to tell you that Kendall had left earlier in the morning.
“Right to his slaughter,” you mumbled to Rome, who’s face twisted with guilt.
An hour later, you were watching Kendall on the television. Shiv and Logan were on the couches, and Roman had both his hands resting on your shoulders, kneading your muscles as if you were a stress ball.
“I have been asked to explain my role in the management of illegality at the firm and associated cover ups. And it has been suggested that I would be a suitable figure to absorb the anger and concern,” said screen Kendall. To your surprise, his words were followed by, “But…”
You and Roman exchanged glances. He stopped working at your shoulders and crossed his arms.
“The truth is that my father is a malignant presence. He is a liar, a bully, and was fully aware of the events that had transpired on the cruise ships for many years, and made efforts to hide and cover up. He had a twisted sense of loyalty to bad actors like Lester McClintock, and a disregard for the safety of migrant workers, union and non-union workers, along with vulnerable performers and guests.”
“Fuck me,” Roman whispered. Logan silently lifted a finger to his lips to shush him.
The Kendall on screen was vastly different to the puppet Kendall you’d come to know for the past few months. He’d finally broken free of his strings.
“My father keeps a watchful eye over his entire empire, and the notion that he would have allowed millions of dollars of settlements and compensation to be paid without his explicit approval is utterly fanciful. I have with me today copies of records that show his personal sign-off. How much those of us who executed his wishes bear responsibility is for another day.”
Shiv briefly twisted around to shoot you an utterly dumbfounded look, as if to ask you if you’d known he was going to do this. You sent her an equally befuddled expression.
“But I think…” said Kendall, “This is the day his reign ends.”
With that, Kendall got up and walked off to the side, out of the camera’s view. You couldn’t see it, for Logan was facing the screen, but there was a slight smile on your godfather’s face.
#roman roy x reader#roman roy fanfiction#roman roy smut#roman roy fluff#roman roy series#roman roy ff#roman roy angst#roman roy x you#roman roy fanfic#succession roman#succession roman x reader#roman roy#succession fanfiction#succession x reader#roman roy imagine
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@godblessdilfs
We'll Make It Fit
Paring: Daryl Dixon x female reader
Era: Honestly, I didn't really have a specific season in mind
Summary: Daryl has a major size kink and you're the perfect size for him?
Warnings: Smut, size kink, swearing, fingering, masturbation, grinding, and domination
Word count: 10,833
Daryl could barely pull his eyes from you, constantly observing how you interacted with him; the way he had to look down upon you, his eyes practically scanning over the top of your head whenever you conversed with him. He loved the fact that he could most likely wrap his arms all the way around your small stature, twice, if the two of you were to ever embrace. The significant size and height difference between the two of you always made his mind wander, wondering how you'd look pinned beneath him, moaning his name as he basically caged you between his forearms. The thought made his cock twitch from inside the confines of his pants.
The solemn man quietly watched as you worked on perfecting your aim, practicing with his own crossbow by firing at a small, makeshift target that you had placed against the base of a tree. You had been doing fairly well, most of the arrows landing somewhere close to the bullseye, one even landing directly in the middle of the board.
He licked his lips, wetting his mouth as he observed you from across the blazing fire, the large weapon practically overweighing your figure as you trained. He had grown firm within his jeans once he had come across this realization, watching as you sometimes teetered upon the balls of your feet while you retrieved an arrow.
“Daryl,” you suddenly called out, drawing him from his thoughts as his eyes found their way to you “can you help me? I can't reach it.”
You looked absolutely majestic according to Daryl; your hair was a slight mess, your locks sticking up in random directions and a bit frizzy, but the archer could only focus on the way it framed your face and hung over your chest, making you look like a renaissance depiction. Your eyes were sparkling, the orange glow admitted from the fire caused your irises to shimmer and shine from beneath your fluttering lashes. Shadows had formed all across your figure, accentuating all of Daryl's favorite features of yours: your sharp characteristics, glowing skin, and the lighting couldn't help but draw his eyes to your chest. The sweet smile inching upon your lips had the dark haired male in awe, his eyes faltering for a slight moment before a breeze blew across the small area. Your clothing began flowing in the wind, the fabric rippling across your body as thin strands of your hair began to flutter around your head. You looked like an absolute Goddess.
You pointed up towards the large plant placed behind you, attempting to present your problem to Daryl. His vision slowly trailed up your arm and climbed across your palm before finally landing upon the issue at hand. His eyes focused in the darkness, eyelids squinting as he noticed one of his arrows firmly stuck within the bark of the tree. You had attempted to retrieve it on your own, standing upon the toes of your shoes and even jumping, but it always remained just a few inches out of reach.
Daryl cleared his throat before rising from his seat across the fire, hoping the bulge placed beneath his clothing wasn't as prominent as he thought it was.
He made his way around the crackling fire, dried leaves crunching below his weight as he trudged in your direction. Legs stretching beneath the mass of his body, knees slightly buckling for a moment as he approached you, becoming a bit nervous within your presence. As he passed by the fire, the blaze casted a feeling of warmth upon the left side of his figure, heat radiating through his arm and the rest of his upper body. The perfect mixture of the combined warmth admitted from the blaze and the slight coolness of the breeze engulfing him was almost heavenly. The room temperature gust glazing his skin caused him to reminisce upon the many summer nights he had spent laying upon the grass covered ground, gazing up towards the constellations placed above him.
He finally arrived at the tall, looming tree; the only sound entering the domain of his ears was the noise of the leaves quivering from above him, the sound of the fire groaning behind the two of you, and the wind caused a slight howling to echo around both of you. The environment surrounding the two of you was extremely calming, almost making the reality of your current lives dissolve around you.
Without hesitation, Daryl leaned forward, one hand placed upon the left side of the tree, grasping the base with a firm grip in an attempt to steady himself as his other palm wrapped itself around the worn arrow. He had supplied you with a few of his old darts to practice with, to insure that you wouldn't lose or harm his trusty, pristine arrows. The ones he had given you were old, wooden darts, the tips worn down into blunt, painless points. The shaft of the arrows were thin and weak, threatening to give out at any moment. He felt the rough texture of the dart in between his fingers, his blunt nails digging into the skin of his palm as he obtained a death grip upon the weapon.
He was unaware of it then, but you hadn't moved before he arrived at his destination. The large male had practically trapped you between him and the tree, your body surrounded by his exposed biceps and you couldn't help but stare.
Your eyes traced his frame, fawning over the way he had positioned himself in front of you. Your vision landed upon his large upper body, his abdomen covered by a loose shirt and his leather vest, his torso swimming in the clothing while still giving you a perfect view upon the toned muscles hidden beneath the confines of his shirt. His abs caused the thin fabric to strain against his skin, a light outline of his stomach becoming visible to your naked eyes. The fire was casting shadows upon his exposed biceps in all the right ways, his muscles throbbing under the weight he was putting upon them. Your head turned, your eyes trailing up his limb until they landed upon his hands; the fingers upon his right hand were sprawled out upon the dark brown bark, gripping at the wood as he propped himself up upon his arms. His other hand firmly wrapped itself around the arrow, knuckles white as he held the dart, and for some reason, the sight made your underwear grow damp. His broad shoulders were drawn together, tense as he focused all his strength into retrieving his belonging. Your eyes darted down to the crotch of his pants, a habit you were extremely used to giving into, your brain going blank as you attempted to catch even just a glimpse of what may be lying underneath the thick fabric.
Finally, your vision found its way up to his face, your eyes landing upon the stern look drawn across his features: His eyes narrow, focusing upon the weapon wedged into the tree, his lips drawn together in a tight line, and his hair was dangling in front of his eyes, swaying and jerking with even the slightest of motion.
The way he looked right then, towering above you, made you grow even wetter.
“I really wanna kiss you right now, Daryl.” You admitted, staring up towards him.
The sudden noise startled the male, his head jerking downwards in an attempt to discover the exact location of the unexpected sound and who it may have possibly came from.
Had you always been standing there below him?
His eyes were weary once they landed upon you, frantically scanning your face as he finally yanked the dart from the tree. The arrow escaped from the tree with a muffled pop noise as he contemplated your words. Daryl knew this was everything he had ever wanted, to kneel down and kiss you, to place his hands upon your cheeks as your lips collided, but he knew that would only cause the problem between his legs to worsen. Even just the thought of it all had him painfully hard.
The way you gazed up at him made his heart begin to pound within his rib cage, rattling around so harshly he was sure you'd be able to hear it. Your eyes were soft as your vision found its way down to his lips, circling around your desired target as you breathed through your nose. You looked so small below him, the sight of your tiny stature caged between his forearms had his jeans growing tighter around his waist. Your back was carefully pushed up against the tree, your body practically pinned between his own and the structure behind you.
Daryl was staring at you with a look of deep focus and concentration, like he was contemplating your very being. His eyes were glued to your pupils, like he could see your soul through the inky black holes. He was reading you, like a book, debating wether or not this was a good idea, if this was the correct decision to make. His harsh gaze caused you to grow embarrassed, a small pink hue growing across your skin as you became doubtful. Had you said the wrong thing? The fact that he actually had to think about his next choice was not a positive sign.
You suddenly placed your small hands upon his chest in an attempt to put your desired actions into motion, as the two of you had been standing there like that for a while, Daryl looking quizzically at you as you stared sheepishly back. The contact of your hands meeting his body made him crumble. The sight of your tiny palms sprawled out across his large chest and the heat of your bodies connecting made him pull his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting back a whimper. He was done for. He felt the arrow suddenly fall from his grasp, landing somewhere upon the ground and clattering among the leaves before he obeyed your request.
He leaned down, far enough to cause his back to strain as he let his hands find their way to your face. His large palms clasped around your cheeks, your skin burning within his grip as his mouth was placed upon yours.
His hands upon your face felt magnificent; his calloused fingers gripping at your soft flesh sent sparks rushing through body. Even just the slight contact was enough to make you choke back a grin.
His lips were slow at first, his rough hands caressed your face as his mouth moved softly; his lips were doughy, warm, and plush while being pushed up against your own. Your mouths fit together perfectly, almost like pieces of a puzzle as he gracefully kissed you. His light facial hair poked and scratched at the skin upon your face as he practically swallowed you, breathing heavily from his nose, like he was too nervous to pull away just to inhale. Too scared he might possibly lose you, that you might change your mind about the entire thing in those fleeting moments.
His head dipped down further into your own as your palms snaked their way up his chest, finally feeling his toned body beneath his clothes, a connection you had been practically yearning for for months.
Your hands groped at his stiff abs and thorax, fingers digging at the rough fabric of his clothes, practically clawing at the man like a sex deprived maniac. You allowed your palms to dip down into the creases of his stomach, venturing their way through all the grooves and cracks littered upon his chest, his large muscles causing a slight moan to escape from your lips. One of which Daryl happily swallowed.
Once you were satisfied with your search upon his chest, the feeling of his abdomen beneath your finger tips forever burned into your mind, your hands slowly made their way up his body. You felt his heart pounding beneath his chest as your hands trailed towards his neck. The idea that he was even just the slightest bit nervous had a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your palms momentarily grasped at his shoulders, feeling his buff build beneath your hands was satisfactory, loving the way his elbows dropped when you laid your hands upon him, relaxing underneath your touch before your hands finally rested upon his neck.
The skin covering his neck was soft, silky within your grasp, flesh practically begging you to scatter multiple different types of marks upon him: hickeys, love bites, small scratches, and more. If your mouth wasn't so busy tending to his own, you'd be occupying yourself by littering kisses down his jawline, sucking marks onto his neck, and licking long stripes upon his collar bones.
Your arms were now entirely stretched out in an attempt to wrap yourself around his nape, wanting to be closer to him, yearning to have your bodies pressed together as your chests heaved and your lips attacked one another. All you could smell was him, practically swimming in the scent radiating from his body as the shadow of his large stature blocked out all of your surroundings. He smelt of dirt, pine, and a hint of sap, most likely due to the many occasions he spent out in the wild, hiding among trees, scavenging within the dirt, and laying upon mounds of leaves. He had a strong, masculine aroma, one that was forming into a thick smog, a fog that caused your mind to grow hazy as you found yourself completely and utterly surrounded by him and his enticing affection.
You lifted yourself onto your toes, your back scrapping against the rough bark of the tree behind you as you attempted to get a better angle upon the man. All you desired to do was to become enveloped with in him, for his arms to become wrapped around you, his body to be desperately pressed up against yours, and for his face to melt into your own, mushing together as the two of you kissed. But your attempt to make yourself appear to be taller, to give the male better access to your jaw and throat didn't seem to make much of a difference, he was still just out of your reach, many inches away, causing your neck to strain and your mouth to extend in an embarrassing strive to gain better access to his own lips.
Daryl was still looming over you, his messy hair dangling against your forehead as he knelt down, his shoulder blades tense due to the awkward position he had to stand in. He was still just close enough to politely lay his lips upon your own.
Daryl was unaware that such a small action could affect his dick so much; at the realization that you were still much too short, even on your tippy toes, to successfully reach him caused him to groan into your mouth, cock twitching desperately within his trousers. Daryl dove forward, lust practically spilling from his pores as he began to make out with you. He was completely driven by his overpowering emotions as he pulled your face closer to his own, basically melding your lips together as his movements became erratic; his mouth was sloppy, lazily kissing you as he became too horny to really care, all he wanted to do was fuck you senseless. He had grown sick of watching you prance around, too short to do many things on your own, often requesting his assistance while reaching something from the top shelf or to retrieve an arrow that had became lodged within a tree. He was done admiring the way you appeared to fit perfectly upon his lap, imagining the way you'd look laid upon his chest while his arms snaked tightly around you. But most of all, he was tired of jerking off to the thought of you every night, grinding against his pillow in an attempt to feel some sort of relief. He needed a taste of the real thing.
Daryl momentarily pulled away, your lips embarrassingly chasing his own as he did so, yearning for his affection. It had grown quiet once more as the two of you gazed upon one another.
The male was admiring the way your lips had become swollen, eyelids heavy and pupils lust blown as you stared up at him, waiting patiently for him to make his next move. His eyes focused on the way you licked your lips, preparing yourself for his next, ravenous make out session as you gazed upon his own beauty; the way his face had turned a slight pinkish color had you screaming within your head, his eyes hazily staring down at you like he was completely smitten with you. His mouth had turned slightly swollen as well, his lips covered in saliva due to your mouths messily clashing moments prior. He was blinking slowly, just taking his time to admire your love struck appearance.
Your hands were still placed comfortably around his neck, lightly playing with the corse hairs at the back of his head as his own palms grabbed at your face, fingers drawing light circles upon your skin as he struggled to keep his hands in place; he was having a war within his mind, using every ounce of self control left within his body to make sure his touch didn't waver, staying glued to your magnificent face instead of gliding upon the curves of your body.
“I wanna," he paused, his eyes dark as he stared down upon you, selecting his words wisely "I needa fuck ya.”
His tone was dominant but also quiet, slight desperation laced within his voice. It was an understatement to say that Daryl desperately needed you, he had never met someone who fit his personal type so perfectly: You were short, much smaller than the hunter, practically minuscule compared to himself. You were thin, tiny enough for Daryl to constantly day dream about dominating you, grabbing you by your wrists and contorting your body into any position he desired. He wanted to hold you down as he fucked into you, his head buried into the crook of your neck, giving him the ability to hear all the whimpers and moans, every possible noise, that escaped from the confines of your mouth. Your measurements were practically flawless for every act he even thought of taking part in. He had never laid his eyes on anything as perfect as you. You were the epiphany of Daryl's wet dreams.
"Please." You responded, your voice breathy as you spoke.
Daryl groaned, your vocalization sending a slight shiver down his spine, the sound of you begging for him was intoxicating, he needed to hear it again.
His hands jolted towards the hem of your pants, a sudden movement that caused you to flinch as a reaction, eyes wide as you held back a yelp. You weren't expecting such hasty movements from the mysterious male, an action that caused your heart to immediately start pounding in fear, but his desperate activities only caused your legs to grow weak below you, trembling under your weight.
Your eyes flicked down to his fingers, his hands working frivolously upon the button of your jeans, his sweaty palms radiating a hot warmth onto the skin beneath your clothing. It was becoming increasingly obvious that the male had grown frantic, yearning to be inside you as soon as physically possible. Too excited to move slowly for even just a few moments. He fumbled with the small, metal circle upon your pants, wiggling it around until he successfully freed it from its confines. You were quick to do the same, your hands rapidly traveling down his body, sliding against his large shoulders, grazing his chest, skimming his torso, and momentarily pausing upon the waist band of his trousers, taking in the moment, doing your best to burn the image in your head: Your hands upon the hem of his jeans, fingers dipping under into the depths of his pants, and the outline of his painfully hard cock visible even in the dim firelight. You stared for a moment before finally placing your fingers upon zipper of his pants, eagerly trying to keep up with his swift movements.
When your palm grazed the rough material of his jeans, you felt your skin ghost over his aching hard on, pulsing beneath his clothing. All you wanted to do was palm him through his pants, grope and grab at him until he was a whimpering mess below you, but, you quickly decided it would be much more enjoyable if you were to just free the two of you from your restricting clothes and fuck like animals instead. You heard a slight moan escape from the mans lips as your fingers skimmed across his member, pleasure quickly coursing though Daryl's body due to even just the lightest touch.
You felt yourself clench around nothing as you observed the sheer size of him, the addition of his deep groan as a reaction to just the smallest of contact caused you to grow even more desperate. He was thick enough to leave a very prominent outline of his shaft through his pants and he was long enough to make tiny, doubtful thoughts begin racing through your head.
Once you swallowed the knot within your throat, one you didn't even know existed until that moment, your hands began working swiftly upon the button of his own jeans, trying not to crumble under the pressure of his tense stare, his eyes practically burning holes into the top of your head as you felt his hot breath spill across the sweaty skin of your forehead. Having Daryl as your audience was making you becoming increasingly shy with every second that went by, hands beginning to shake as you struggled with the surprisingly intricate button of his pants.
He was the first to tare your jeans from your body, ripping them down your legs before you could even successfully undo his fly. You felt the cool, spring air pool across the exposed skin upon your thighs as Daryl dropped your pants, letting them fall around your ankles. The hunter had auspiciously removed your bottoms enough for you to be able to entirely rid of them, kicking the article of clothing from your body. Your jeans landed somewhere behind Daryl, clattering among the leaves, sticks, and dirt as they slid across the ground, although you couldn't exactly spot their exact location as the males large frame was blocking your vision.
Goosebumps began to appear across your body, growing upon your exposed legs and littering your flesh with small, round bumps. Your limbs began to tremble due to the howling wind when you finally freed his zipper, the small piece of metal grinding against the teeth of his pants with a loud zippp noise, a sound that echoed throughout the woods around you, reverberating off of every, surrounding tree. With that, you happily wrapped your hands around the waistband of his jeans, your nimble fingers swiftly pushing both his pants and boxers downwards against his hips, just enough to reveal his throbbing dick.
You marveled down at his appendage: the tanned skin was littered with veins, pulsing and palpitating with anticipation. The tip was pink, flustered and agitated from the lack of attention Daryl had been receiving in that moment, yearning for any sort of physical contact. Your eyes traced the light hairs that framed his cock, patches of curls making their way up his body, forming a happy trail that disappeared into the depths of his wrinkled shirt.
His cock had been struggling against the rough material of his jeans for a long while now, begging for relief as he stared down upon you, and even just being exposed to the crisp air had his mind reeling.
He was large, so much so that his size practically terrified you.
Without hesitation, you, instinctually, dragged the pad of your thumb down the large, decorative vein that ran across the underside of his shaft, an action that you had put no thought into, your hands practically moving on their own. It was warm to the touch, his member practically burning in the clutch of your hand as you gaped down at him, swallowing another lump within your throat as you grew weary of his size. Daryl let out a shaky breath as pre-cum practically spilled from his sensitive head, his cock twitching in response to your movements, lighting bouncing, yearning for more affection from your delicate hands.
"I-" you paused, a deep heat spreading across your cheeks as you spoke, the words about to tumble from your mouth causing you to grow increasingly embarrassed "I don't know if it will fit."
Your honesty made a wave of pride wash over Daryl, crashing down upon his face causing a smirk to inch across his plush lips. You thought he was big, you had just exclaimed a sentence he had been dying to hear you speak sense the moment he met you. Your words only added to his debilitating arousal, playing into his crippling size kink as the thought of you stuffed with his large cock crossed through his mind.
"We'll make it fit."
With that, he brought his hands down to your exposed underpants; he placed the pad of his finger upon your clothed clit, his skin quickly collected the wetness that had soaked into the cloth. You let out a small whimper, resisting the over powering urge to rut your hips down against him, to grind your core into his strong hands as he grunted deeply, the feeling of you being absolutely soaked for him, even after such minuscule actions, only urged him further.
He began creating small circles against your underwear with his digits, tiny, tight movements upon your clit, not too fast but not too slow either. You let out an unexpected moan due to his actions, one you didn't know you were holding; the sound waves traveled through his ears and shot straight between his legs, his cock uncontrollably twitching.
His free hand made its way to your clothed chest, his fingers traveling from your cheek down to your neck, lightly caressing your jawline before hastily sliding over your collar bones until his palm landed upon one of your breasts. His hand was large compared to your boob, his entire palm engulfing your skin as he held it in within his grasp. His hand cover the entirety of your breast, making it seem minuscule in his clutch as he rolled it within his palm. While his other hand was still occupied with your crotch, the one placed upon your chest began to move as well, the pad of his thumb beginning to create rough circles upon your clothed chest, the movements of his hands synced with one another, his fingers beginning to move at the same pace while applying the same amount of pressure.
His hands were all over you, touching you as pleasure coursed through your body, it was practically unbearable. This was the sort of contact you had only ever experienced within the confines of your extremely depraved dreams, or during the scenarios you had created during the nights you were left wide awake, yearning for the biker to be on top of you, relentlessly rearranging your insides. Your legs were threatening to give out as he fondled your chest, his thumb caressing your hard nipple hidden beneath your clothing while his other hand worked at your crotch, adding the perfect amount of pressure onto your pulsing clit. You had successfully become soaked, clenching around nothing as the rough texture of his skilled fingers grinded against your pussy. Possibly much wetter than you had ever been before.
Although you had been watching his hands intensely, observing them as they caused your body to convulse and twitch uncontrollably, you momentarily allowed your eyes to flick up towards his face, scanning his features, only to find his dark orbs already doing the same to you.
His eyes were focused upon your face, watching every expression and reaction you had to his actions, picking up upon all of your positive responses, such as pleasure filled moans or excited whimpers, while also noticing all of your negative feedback, such as grit teeth or sharp hisses. All of which were strides towards making this the best night of your entire life.
Plus, he absolutely adored watching you crumble beneath the control of his finger tips.
His mouth was drawn into a thin line, a slight smirk pulling upon the corner of his lips as he observed you. His eyes were surprisingly soft and caring as he stared down upon you, although his irises were still dark, pupils blown extremely wide as a reaction to the show you were putting on from below him. His skin had grown a blotchy reddish color, a reaction due to the extremely strong arousal plaguing both his mind and body. There was also a thin sheet of sweat glazing over his flesh due to his rigorous movements, his hair sticking to his forehead like glue as his hands wandered the vast land of your body.
"Y-You said you were gonna f-fuck me." You struggled with your words, your voice shaking as his, seemingly magical, fingers didn't falter.
He let his palms fondle you a moment longer, one hand rolling your breast within his grasp as the other dragged the pointer and middle finger through your wet folds. It was like he was unable to remove his palms from you, and you couldn't deny it, seeing the way Daryl got all worked up due to simply pleasuring you, cock painfully hard, pre-cum beading down his shaft, and a lust filled look written all across his face, it was practically intoxicating.
With one last moan admitted from you, finally satisfied with his work, he removed his hands from your crotch and boobs, palms traveling down the soft skin of your legs until they landed upon the outside of your thighs. With every new inch of your body he seemed to explore, waves of fulfillment and rapture flowed pleasurably through your veins. His fingers frolicked upon the soft flesh of your thighs; he rolled the skin between his fingers, rubbing his palms across your limb, and even slapped you a few times, drawing his arm back before launching it downwards, placing a firm strike upon the meat of your thighs. You yelped with every hit he placed upon you, a stinging sensation pooling across your leg, but the pain was also quite pleasurable, excitement bursting through your body every time the male smacked you.
Daryl smiled to himself, enjoying the way your thighs jiggled beneath his finger tips, waves appearing upon your skin as the fat of your leg moved relentlessly beneath your flesh. With every moan that escaped your mouth, he smiled to himself, adoring the way you happily accepted any sort of touch from him, wether it be him kissing you, fingering you, or even when he left welts across your skin. He observed as light, red handprints began to form upon your legs, large, pink splotches littering your thighs.
Due to your drastic size difference, there were some precautions Daryl was gonna have to take to guarantee this was an extremely pleasurable experience for the both of you.
Finally, his fingers grasped harshly upon the skin of your thighs, his rugged hands feeling almost heavenly upon the soft flesh of your legs, causing you to savor every moment his hands were placed upon you. He was holding your outer thighs with force, gaining a tight grip upon your legs before finally hoisting you up. His forearms began to strain as he did so, back tensing as he let out a gruff grunt as he elevated you. Your back slid against the tree as you began to levitate, slightly scratching your spin but it wasn't painful enough for you to ever think about requesting for Daryl to stop. Once you were lifted so you were placed at eye level to the male, he caged your body between his own and the shrub placed behind the two of you.
He had a knee placed below you in an attempt to relieve some tensity from his two arms that were still placed upon your legs; you were basically sitting politely upon his thigh, feet dangling off the ground as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, a strive towards keeping yourself steady and balanced. Your torsos crashed together, your breasted pushed promptly against his chest, the warmth of his stomach radiating upon your own as you cuddled further into his grasp. Your faces were mere inches away, your eyes glued to one another and the tips of your noses brushing together as you felt the weight of his cock press against the inside of your soft thigh.
The close proximity shared between the two of you caused fireworks to explode within your mind, butterflies appearing inside your stomach as your mind went hazy. You took a deep inhale of his rustic scent, a smell that formed some sort of smog, fogging up your vision as your eyelids became heavy, his aroma practically erased all of your senses as you instinctually wrapped your legs around his waist, yearning to close the small amount of space between the two of you.
Your crotches suddenly collided together, Daryl's dick slipping between your clothed folds, causing you to grind into his warm shaft.
"God." Daryl groaned out before letting his head fall upon your shoulder.
The two of you continued upon your endeavor, your pussy coating Daryl in a thick layer of wetness as he began to lazily rut himself against you; his mind was also reeling as well, all of his previous thoughts dissipating into seemingly nothingness before being replaced by the deep desire to cum inside your aching crotch. Your bodies began to move in sync, hips thrusting against one another as you rolled your waist against his own. Daryl's hands glided up to the part of your legs where you thighs met your ass, fingers sliding into the deep, warm crevice before giving the skin placed there a harsh squeeze. You let out a surprised gasp as he did so, your body melting into his own as he let out a few grunts into the crook of your neck.
"Daryl, p-please." You whined, unable to participate in the desperate foreplay much longer.
A groan emerged from the depths of his throat in response to your pleading, loving the sound of your melodious voice slightly begging for him. The idea that you were so desperate for his dick, cock hungry as you grinded into his shaft, made his member twitch, nearly coming prematurely.
His movements suddenly stilled due to both your vague request and the way he had seemed to instantaneously become dangerously close to his finish. You let out a frustrated whine, quickly missing the way his body rutted against your own and the feeling of his exhausted breaths being released upon your shoulder, but the idea of the depraved actions, and any other sort of touch that he would be sure to leisurely grant you, that were soon to ensue only caused you to quickly snap your jaw shut.
He slowly lifted his head, the look he was supporting was absolutely adorable upon him: His ocean blue eyes were heavy, lashes fluttering slowly as he blinked, his skin was a warm, a crimson red, and his hair was a total mess, sticking up in all different directions.
He freed one of his hands, sliding his fingers out from underneath your ass before his palms made their way to your crotch. He made sure to let his hands wander for a moment, feeling the barren expanse of your legs as his fist practically engulfed your thigh, his fingers covering the entire top of your leg.
Once his fingers met your soaking pussy, he placed his hand upon your underwear, giving your core one more grind of his palm before his fingers inched their way across your crotch, searching for the edge of your underwear. He felt the fabric underneath his skin, rubbing the cloth between his digits before successfully pulling the garment to the side.
It was becoming increasingly evident that he did not intend to take his sweet old time with you, considering the blatant facts that the two of you were still half dressed, neither of you had taken the time to lay down upon the ground, instead he just pressed your body against the structure behind you, too exhilarated to even think of finding some sort of shelter, and now he wasn't even planning on removing your underwear, just swiftly moving it aside, enough to let his cock have access to your aching crotch. And normally, if this had been any other male, it would be a major turn off, a guy too self indulged to take a moment to account for your needs. But with Daryl it seemed to have the exact opposite effect:
Daryl was too enliven to simply remove a small article of clothing, cock painfully hard as he prepared for you to take his dick; he was going to extract what he wanted from you, he was going to make you bounce upon his dick until you were panting his name as he came all across your walls. He was gonna use you to get off, to pleasure himself. The entire idea had your clit throbbing, entrance clenching around nothing as your crotch dripped, practically begging for him to just fuck you senseless already.
Daryl brought his fingers to your moist folds, without your clothing as the means of some sort of protection, for the first time; he held back a joyful sigh as he collected a large amount of your wetness for some form of lubricant, fingers teasing around your sensitive clit and dipping about half an inch inside of you before smuggling removing his hand.
The male twitched between his legs, the feeling of your pussy finally being revealed to the pads of his finger tips was celestial; he loved the way you involuntarily rutted yourself against his hands, adoring the way you needfully clenched around his fingers, and how wet you were for him drove him crazy. In that moment, all he wanted to was to slide his thick fingers deep inside of you before fucking you with his digits until you couldn't walk properly.
"All this for me?" He spoke, his voice both raspy and extremely sexy.
Even during the brief moments his hands were inside you, you practically melted right then and there upon his lap. His fingertips satirizing your clit caused a wave a pleasure to wash over you, your back arching against his body, levitating upon the tree as you desired more, yearning for him to make you crumble beneath his dominating touch. Up until that moment, you were unaware that such a small amount of affection could cause your body to have such a large reaction.
"Mhmm." You purred in response.
It was an undeniable fact that you were in fact this soaked for the archer standing in front of you.
You watched achingly as he brought his hand down to his crotch. Jealous as he rewarded himself with multiple swift pumps upon his cock, dragging his hand up and down his shaft, even rolling his palm against his throbbing tip, to ensure that he had completely laced himself in your wetness. His hips began to slightly buck into his grasp as he too was very sensitive and extremely sex deprived, silently begging for any sort of release.
Watching Daryl Dixon jerk off, his head throw back, his mouth left agape, and his hand gliding with experience upon his cock was a sight you had only dreamed of.
Finally, he gripped the base of his member, steadying himself as he lined his cock up with your core, hair dangling in his face as he did so. The sensation of his large and blunt head pocking and prodding at your dripping entrance was enough to make you want to roll your hips down onto him, to take him prematurely, due to the mixture of both your unbearable amount of desire for the male and the feeling of his warm rod rubbing against your pussy.
You let out a strangled moan as he began to push into you, almost without warning. The thick girth of his head was enough to make you squirm beneath him, eyes squeezing shut as he slid further; you could feel every vein, ridge, and mole placed upon his dick as he entered you, your body detecting the small heartbeat that pounded throughout his member, and most of all, you could feel him stretching you out. He was expanding your pussy like you had never felt before, a sensation that made a sharp pain jolt through your lower body, causing you to feel as though you were an unexperienced virgin who had never felt the sensation of a man filling you with his cock.
His length was causing a severe agony to be inflicted upon your body; you bit your lip, holding back a slight squeal in fear of appearing as though you couldn't handle his dick, but you were becoming increasingly unsure how much more of him you could induce without fainting, pondering upon the fact that you may not live through this amount of penetration. Your insides were begging for mercy as he entered you, warning your brain of the large intrusion by throbbing intensely, your pussy urticating between your legs.
But, Daryl was receiving almost the exact opposite sensation: your soft, warm, and wet walls were luring him in, an invitation he couldn't seem deny as he began to lose control of himself. His animalistic instincts kicking in, the demon upon his shoulder beckoning him to fully enter you with one singular, and swift, thrust of his hips. It was taking every ounce of self control left within him to fight off the voices within his head as your walls throbbed around him, tightening and clenching around his shaft as he slowly plunged into you, knowing the sheer pain he was able to inflict with such a large package.
"Daryl!" You suddenly yelped out.
You thought you would be able to manage until he was successfully buried deep inside of you, pulsing and twitching against your wet insides. You expected to be able to control the pain until it was an appropriate time to express your need for a break, but you were proven wrong, his member was just way too much to receive all at once.
Your entrance was burning, twinging due to the massive stretch you had recently endured as tears brimmed your eye lids, threatening to spill down your face if he were to continue with his exertion.
"A-are you almost i-in?" You spoke once he finally stilled "I think you're gonna kill me."
Although the end of your sentence was a sad attempt at an awkward joke, even punctuated with a tense and breathy chuckle, the redneck took your words literally. The male peaked his head down towards the junction at which your bodies had become connected, studying the remote area before glancing back up towards you, a blank look upon his face as he muttered the words:
"Bout half way."
You let out a hopeless and frightened whimper in response to his words, gritting your teeth as the water began to fall, your eye lids collapsing like an overflown dam. The salty tears split against your eyelashes before spilling down your cheeks, the cool water beading across your hot skin as it finally ended upon your chin, dripping from your jawline before landing upon the males exposed arms.
The way you were struggling to undergo the effects of his dick shouldn't have turned Daryl on as much as it had; he loved the way he stretched you out, large enough to practically tear you in half as a look of pure amazement appeared across your face, the breath being knocked from your lungs as you stared up at him. His cock began to uncontrollably throb as you started to quietly sob, thighs shaking around him due to the pressure between your legs. Another action that shouldn't have effected Daryl the way it had, seeing you cry due to his size only played into his fantasies even more.
You now had your eyes closed, pinching them shut due to a mix of embarrassment and the extreme pain still continuing to course through your body, webbing down your legs. Your tears warmed your face as you did your best to pull yourself together, trying not to spoil the moment by inhaling long, deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself, before you felt a large, wet blot appear upon your cheeks.
The unexpected connection caused you to jump, Daryl's hot and familiar breath pooled across your face as the unknown object began to move across your skin, following the trails your sobs had left upon your flesh.
He was licking away your tears, actually lapping up the salty tracks left brewing upon your face.
His patchy facial hair tickled your skin as he pulled his mouth up your face; his lips were wet, tongue leaving behind more moisture upon your cheeks than your own tears had. His mouth licked at your jawline, carefully collecting every droplet of water before happily swallowing, an action that momentarily made you forget about the numbness growing between your legs.
He was seriously diving down and lapping up your tears.
Once your face was entirely stripped clean of your tears, Daryl's kitten licks leaving a small grin drawn across face while also causing your abdomen to relax, your body perched attentively upon the inches he had inserted into you. The pain much less prominent as you had grown acquainted with his size, your legs slightly shook due to the pressure placed between your thighs but that was about it.
Daryl had studied your face for a few seconds, scanning your features for any sign of malaise or tenderness, but once he come to the conclusion that you were more than ready to receive him once again, due to the twinkle in your eyes in the way your hands gripped at the back of his head, he began to slide into you once more.
He was much hastier with his movements this time around, understanding that taking it slow and steady would most likely cause your body to writhe with discomfort once more, repeating the entire process over again, so he just bottomed out inside of you almost instantaneously.
You let out a surprised shriek due to the hunters actions, a shock of agony shooting through your body momentarily, although it was much more bearable than before. You felt completely filled up once he had finally steadied himself; his thick member pulsing between your tight walls and his blunt tip pushing against the far barriers of your insides caused you to feel overfilled by him, like at any second he would cause you to burst open as his dick was making you feel a sensation you had never received before.
Daryl paused for a couple minutes, reading the expressions upon your face as you received so many contradicting emotions at once:
At first, your features exclaimed a mixed look of revelation and disbelief; your eyes were wide, still red and glossy due to the tears that had previously filled them, your jaw had also fell slack, mouth left agape as your breath became caught within your throat. You were left in complete and utter shock as the male practically forced himself inside you, your pussy doing its best to alter its placement so you could adequately accept his throbbing cock.
As your crotch contorted and warped itself under the imprint of the hunters dick, your face began to morph as well: your eyes squinted together and you grit your teeth as you helplessly clenched around him. You were mewling beneath him, hands falling to his chest before you gripped at his shirt, an attempt to find any sort of support, trying to pull your body back down to Earth as his cock had caused your vision to be filled with stars.
Daryl was twitching relentlessly due to the position you sat upon his shaft, the way you were struggling and slightly floundering upon his member but still pushed through the slight pain and endured him caused his breath to fall short; his inhale becoming caught within the depths of his throat as he practically overflowed with the passionate feeling of arousal, a smirk falling across his lips.
Your crotch practically engulfed him, walls dripping around his length as you mindlessly clenched and unclenched upon him. Daryl had never felt something more perfect in his life, the way your velvet insides caressed him only made him desire more, he wanted to push into you until there was no indication of his cock left. Your warmth pooled around him, beckoning him further as he was surrounded entirely by your perfect pussy, a feeling that almost made him cum on the spot.
He waited until you had calmed upon his dick once more, until you stopped stirring upon him and instead began to lightly wriggle around him, signaling you were finally ready to be relentlessly fucked by the male, thats when he started moving.
With the first few thrusts you received from the archer, you slightly wiggled and squirmed upon his cock, not used to such a large intrusion pounding away at your walls. You let out a strangled whine as he bucked into you at a medium pace, his worn shirt still laced between your fingers as your eyes grew wide, a reaction to the pain, mixed with a slight, growing pleasure, you were receiving from his trembling hips. A view that sent Daryl spiraling; he loved watching as you struggled upon his cock, adoring the way you happily took all of him even through white knuckles and grit teeth. He continued to stretch you out, unlike anyone else ever had. Every clash of your hip bones seemed to knock the breath from your lungs as you stared up at the male.
Daryl had somehow resisted the over powering urge to toss his head backwards, instead forcing himself to keep his eyes laid upon you, to observe you as he rearranged your insides; his hair was dangling in front of his dark eyes, irises that had been reduced to small, black slits as he gazed down at you as though you were his prey and he was the predator. His bottom lip had been drawn tightly between the top row of his teeth as he grunted out from above you, a light red hue was glowing across his skin, blotching his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, even cascading down the flesh of his neck.
"Ya take my cock so good." He uttered, his voice gruff and raspy, a deep tone that shot straight down to your pussy.
You moaned in response as your cunt clenched desperately around his length, a small jolt of pleasure coursing through your abdomen as a result to his extremely sexy words. You had let out a vulgar and practically pornographic groan in regards to his sentence, a moan that entered Daryl's ears and echoed within his brain before it reverberated through his body before settling upon his impossibly hard dick. That was a noise he would never forget, a sound that would become etched into his brain so he could listen to it like a broken record during his lonely nights, starved of your touch.
"No ones ever takin my cock as good as ya." He exclaimed gruffly as he began to quickly roll his hips into you.
The new angle he had achieved caused waves of pleasure to crash down upon you, his hips flowing like the tides of the ocean, his torso tilted upwards, brushing against the perfect spot placed deep within you, and his hands settled upon your hips, helping you bounce slightly upon his dick. Sudden, the pain you were receiving before practically disappeared, diminishing within your insides as you rotated your hips in rhythm with his own, your mind growing much too busy focusing upon the overwhelming satisfaction to notice the slight stinging still left frolicking within you.
The two of you began moaning, your voices joining like a melodious symphony as he continued to roll his hips into your own, his thick cock basically caressing your insides as you let your head fall into the crock of his neck. You released all of your whimpers and whines into his shoulder, his sweat glazed skin muffling your beautiful noises as Daryl struggled to keep his own voice at bay.
The way you were placed beneath him drove Daryl mad, your thin figure curled up against his own, much larger one, your head placed upon his neck, giving him access to hear all of the candied noises that tumbled from your lips, granting him the ability to memorize every sound that came from your mouth. Your voice was like hunny to his ears, sweet and smooth as it entered his head, his hips stuttering with every whimper that bellowed from you, and every time you cried out into his flesh, he responded with one of his own, gravely groans as you clung helplessly to his frame.
It was becoming much more noticeable that neither of you were going to last much longer as he continued grinding his waist against your own, going delirious due to the way you had became trapped between himself and the tree. Your body was intoxicating to the male, borderline addictive as he imagined himself worshiping you like a Goddess everyday, for the rest of his life.
Suddenly, the male pulled back, sliding out of you until only his tip remained within the chambers of your pussy. He maneuvered himself into a new position, adjusting his body so he was aimed slightly more to the left before he bagan to animalistically fuck into you; his movements were rough, erratic, and fast as he started pounding into you, eliciting a scream of pleasure from the depths of your vocal cords as he repeatedly grunted, thrusting your frame into the tree supporting you. You don't even have the ability to focus upon the bark currently mangling your back, both your mind and body too distracted with the way the hunter ravished you as though you were the first women he had ever graced.
"Yeah?" He said, his voice soft and comforting within the confines of your ears "Ya like tha?"
With a simple lift of your head, all you could do was weakly nod; your head bouncing with each thrust of his hips you received as you let out a frail "Yeah."
Suddenly, his movements grew much slower, his hips still thrusting within in you but at a much steadier pace compared to before, his grinds short and extremely drawn out.
Disappointment washed over you as the most heavenly experience was practically ripped from your body, your core yearning to be filled by his brutal attacks once more. You let out a whine, a long, protracted mewl in protest, begging for his experienced dick once more by rotating your hips down and around him.
Daryl was fast to react to your sounds, quickly shushing your cries by snaking his hand up your body, fingers dancing up your waist, across your hard breasts, over your warm neck, and tickling your jawline before he placed a firm hand upon your mouth. As his hands gripped at your face, fingers curling into your cheek bones, your eyes roll back into your head.
Your mind was screaming at his actions, your previous moan cut short as you felt his sweaty palm against your lips, forcefully hushing your disheartened groans. Your eyelids lulled momentarily before your irises fell back to Earth, landing upon the concern laced look etched upon the males face:
His eyes were focused, wide as he looked to his side, neck straining as he examined the area surrounding the two of you. His head craned, attempting to peer behind him before his thrusts began once more, returning to their previous state as his vision gravitated back towards you. His movements were quickly restored to their former condition, rough and feral as he pleasured himself deep within you.
"Can ya be quiet for me, sweetheart? Jus for one moment. I think I heard somethin."
You nodded profusely, quick to cut off a muffled moan from beneath his fingers, springing at the opportunity to obey his hasty orders. Although his words were a bit unsettling, insinuating that there was the possibility that some sort of threat was in your vicinity, he still continued with his abuse upon your pussy, slamming into you with so much force, you were surprised the tree hasn't collapsed beneath you thus far.
You occasionally let out stifled yelps, biting back various moans at his sudden actions, your insides growing numb due to do the overwhelming amount of pleasure as you began to creep up upon your inevitable high.
Daryl, still studying the environment surrounding the two of you, was extremely unaware of your climax that was creeping up on you at an increasingly fast rate. His thrusts continued upon the edge of torturous, hips unfaltering as he pounded into you, still scrutinizing the woodland area the two of you were engulfed within.
Your abdomen was clenching, a large amount of pressure began to grow deep within your stomach, like at any moment, with one finally snap of his hips, you would break, your pussy would convulse around him as you clenched upon his cock. The tension deep within your torso was tight, threatening to burst at any moment as your eyes frantically darted towards his arms, an attempt at fending off your finish for just a moment longer, never even dreaming for this moment to come to an end.
You could feel a screamed moan daring to bubble from within your throat as you teetered upon the edge of your orgasm, his pulsating limbs did not appear to be a good distraction; his muscles were reverberating, throbbing under the strain of cradling you as he violently fucked you. His skin was glistening with sweat, the thin glaze of perspiration gleaming under the starlight as his upper arms appeared to be extremely tense, his forearms stiff as his shoulders rolled beneath his hypnotizing movements.
You relentlessly clenching around him was what drew Daryl from his trance, his head rotating slowly as his vision finally traveled back to you. When your eyes met, he could tell, almost immediately, that you were on the trail of crashing down upon your high; the way your eyes were threatening to roll back into the depths of your eye sockets, the way your hips swayed in motion with his own, and how your entrance endlessly clenched around him. It was a view that would be engraved within the depths of his memory.
"Ya gonna cum for me?" He asked, his words ringing throughout your head, echoing within your ear canals.
All you could do was let out a muffled moan against his palm in response.
"Gonna cum round my cock?"
Once again, you punctuated his words with a rewarding whimper.
The male remained mute momentarily, adoring the way you whined from beneath his palm as you practically begged him to let you cum. He loved watching you writhe underneath his dictatorship, fighting off your own orgasm as you patiently awaited his next order. Once he was satisfied with the duration he had made you suffer, he finally spoke:
"Then do it for me, girl."
With that, he removed his hand from your face, smirking as he prepared himself to receive every howl of gratitude that was emitted from your mouth.
As soon as he removed his fingers from your lips, you came; walls ruthlessly clenching around the male as your insides convulsed in pleasure, practically screaming as his hips continued their violent beating upon your pussy, caressing you through your orgasm. Your climax washed over you stronger than ever before, your cunt practically vibrating with joy as you came, walls dripping around the archer.
You had your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth left agape in pure ecstasy as you came. Your eyebrows were raised and your lips quivered as a small smile spread across your mouth, a view that caused Daryl's eyes to glue themselves to your features, reading your face as you relished within the shackles of your orgasm.
"O-Oh God, Daryl, f-fuck." Was all you could manage, your words repeating themselves over and over as you reached your high.
Your sudden extreme clenching caused Daryl's finish to sneak up upon him much sooner than he had intended, his seed spilling into you unannounced. His dick twitch within you, white ropes of cum painting your walls as his cock pulsed with fulfillment, the tension within his gut snapping harshly. Due to his unexpected finish, the male let out an animalistic groan as you reached the crest of your high, a sound which only spurred you on further.
Daryl had his bottom lip pulled taunt between his teeth, eyelids heavy as he stared down upon you, too scared to shut them for even a moment, as if he were going to miss some sort of once in a life time experience. His hair was splayed against his forehead, sweat laced and soaked as a reaction to the rigorous work out he had just endured.
Your hands gripped at his own arms, hips bounding upon his stilled cock, your pelvic bones clashing together with ever bounce of your waist. You rode the man like this was your last day on Earth, legs trembling as your pussy wept with satisfaction, the feeling of your orgasm resigned deep within you.
Daryl moaned at the overwhelming amount of pleasure, borderline overstimulation as he grasped at what ever he could reach: Your thighs, ass, torso, arms, any sliver of skin that was visible to the naked eye. His legs twitched uncontrollably as his member pulsed with contentment, his shaft vibrating with the reminence of his climax.
As the two of you stilled, no longer desperately grinding against one another or rolling your hips upon his abdomen, your erratic movements dissipating into thin air as you became satisfied with your orgasms, Daryl slowly pulled out of you. He glided out from your insides with a groan, his spent cock twitching with satiate as he removed his member from within you, your sensitive walls involuntarily clenching around him.
You considered yourself fortunate for surviving his dick.
Daryl slowly placed you upon the ground, being gentle with his movements as he knew exactly what effect his member was gonna have upon you in the days, or even minutes, that followed. He would consider you lucky if you could properly walk without some sort of limp or wobble for the next couple of days.
Your entrance grew sore as he slowly set you down, elastic walls weak and stinging as you placed your feet upon the dirty ground below you. You observed the dying fire from behind the male that was now fixing his disheveled pants: the previously glowing embers were now reduced to glimmering coals and warm ashes.
The sound of Daryl's zipper echoed throughout the dark woods as you situated your drenched underwear, your fingers skimming across your soaked cunt as you placed the article of clothing into its normal position. When you glanced up to retrieve your jeans, the hunter already had them within his tight grip, his finger curling around the fabric as he pranced towards you.
"Lets get ya fixed up, sweetheart." He said as he reached for you, hands traveling across your exposed upper arms.
The rugged male wrapped a hand around your shoulders, grasping your upper arm, blunt nails digging into your soaked skin as his other arm found its way around the back of your knees. He retrieved you from your place upon the floor, strained arms lifting you with ease as he promptly began carrying you, bridle style.
Daryl adored the way your small frame fit within the cradle of his arms, chest promptly pushed up against his own as you snuggled into his grasp. The way your body appeared to be so tiny and fragile compared to his own almost caused him to grow erect once more.
As a reaction to his surprising efforts, you flung your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers upon his nape as you giggled at his robust actions before you finally placed a sloppy, yet firm, kiss upon his accentuated jawline.
#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl the walking dead#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead#twd#twd daryl
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𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧
anonymous asked a question!
ghostface!toji comes into your bedroom every night to watch you sleep. One night you try to grab his mask off of his face while he thinks you are still sleeping and you end up with your arms pinned and his big hand around your throat instead 🥵
𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 ⇝ Toji has been stalking you unaware you’ve been watching him through the small cameras hidden around your house. And after two months when you wake up in the middle of the night you try to take his mask off. Only to get yourself pinned to the bed.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❥ dark explicit, masochist!reader, obsessed!pervert!ghostface!toji, stalking - reader is aware - but toji doesn’t know at first, jerking off to you sleeping, choking, reader has hidden cameras around their place, recorded sex, knife/blood kink, virgin/sex dumb - reader knows basic parts but hasn’t been horny before nor knows how to fuck, bondage with belts, begging, blindfolded, cocksucking, knife kink, name carving, toji has a blood kink, biting, pussy slapping, light throat fucking and smothering you with his balls, anal with little prep/wrong hole, face slapping, spanking, degradation/prasie/ humiliation, toji is mean for your first time and doesn’t care, mirror sex, caught touching themselves - reader, squirting, hint at a second round
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ❥ 8.5k - 30min read time
It started off with little things, footprints of large shoes imprinted into the dirt outside your window, the unsettling feeling of eyes on the back of your neck. The random creaks of the floor while they walked around your house. But the damning piece of evidence is catching him on the cameras you have hidden around your house.
You should go to the police station and turn him in. But the fascination you have for the Ghostface killer stalking you along with the streets of your town stops you. And a part of you feels like maybe you should for guilty, for being willing to harbor a killer who doesn’t know you are aware of their late-night usage of your house. Yet the emotion never arises.
The guilt should be there chewing at your gut along with the fear at someone living in your house. But you can’t find it in yourself to panic when you find out that he watches you sleep for an hour every night. His large figure barely moving while standing by your bedside.
Instead, all there is inside of you is a building lingering obsession. Causing you to look into and consume every piece of media about the Ghostface killer. While you watch what your cameras catch of him over and over.
He fills your thoughts every single waking second.
At first, you thought he watched you sleep to make sure you were deep asleep. So he can move freely around your room. But then one night with your dirty panties in hand, he unzipped his pants. Pulling out the part of a man you’ve never seen before. Before using some of the lotion you left on your side table.
Slipping his gloves off before wrapping his hand around his cock, and slowly slides his hand down. And with its length and thickness, the tip of his cock is dangling by the time he reaches the base of himself. Something you’ve never been able to get over, for reasons you can’t understand.
One camera hidden in the eye of your stuffed teddy bear on the side table gives you a full and clear view of him. While he wraps your panties around the head of his cock.
Holding your bunched-up panties over his cock head while he strokes himself with his other hand. You hadn’t seen those panties since. And the thought that he carries them around lingers in your mind.
You don’t understand why the very thought of his heavy cock and his obsession with you fills your mind. While making pussy warm and wet in a way it’s never been before. Leading to a lingering frustration. Which leaves you wanting to confront him about the weird feelings he stirred up within you.
Despite the main reason of he could kill you, telling you otherwise. The same reasoning doesn’t appear in your sleeping frustrated mind. When you woke up in the middle of the night when you woke up in the middle of the night. But instead of pretending to be asleep, you sit up quickly.
Reaching out for his mask, only for him to grab your wrist pinning it above your head. His other hand goes to your throat, crushing your throat crushing your airflow. While he straddles your body.
Ghostface says to you, “Too bad you didn’t lay there till you fell back to sleep. What? You thought I wouldn’t notice when you woke up in the middle of the night. Your little night light makes it so easy to tell.” His heavy gritty voice sounding bettering than it should.
Freeing your other hand out from under the blanket. And reaching for his mask again. Only for him to let go of your throat to pin your hand. While you softly gasp, focusing on catching your breath before saying,
“Killing me would make it harder for you to hide out long term like you have been doing the past two months.” It is a last resort to see if he would spare you life.
There is a pause, and the room becomes uncomfortably quiet. While he hovers over you, his breath would hit your face if not for his mask. You can make out very faint pink stains from the blood that didn’t come out all the way.
His voice comes out low and slow, “You know?” You can hear a grin in his voice when he quickly follows the previous question with another one. “How much do you know?” Your mind quickly goes to the various times he has stolen your underwear and used it to touch himself.
You try rubbing your hands over your body, but nothing came of it. And you want to know why he loves touching himself so much. That thought comes to you while you tell Ghostface,
“I have small cameras hidden around my place. I’ve seen everything, from you watching me sleep, to stealing my favorite panties, to touching that part of yourself. To that time you frantically cleaned blood off my sofa.” His grasp on your wrists tightens, and there is a sharp tingling pain that shoots down your arms.
A soft sound passes your lips before you quickly bite into your bottom lip to muffle it. You had never made a sound like that before; it didn’t sound like a pained cry but a soft moan.
Tilting his head to the side Ghostface asks you, “Oh baby, enjoying feeling restrained? You have a basement, I could tie you up, strip you naked, and have you standing in the middle of the room. With your arms above your head so I can play with your soft body however I want. Too bad I don’t feel like going back out into the dark snowy night just go around to the side of your house.” He slips your hand into his other fist, pinning both your wrists with his large palm.
Picking up the knife he left on your side table. He presses the tip underneath your chin. While he says, “Yeah your guilty now. If anyone finds out about your willingness to harbor me, you’ll go to jail too.” He slowly drags the knife down your throat and you can’t help but whine.
He then says, “You can’t be reaching for my mask. But I’ll keep you around, you can get us food. And me some clothes. We could also fuck around if you want to.” The coolness of the hard blade gives you goosebumps. While a soft tingle that goes straight between your legs.
Adding to the wet warmth and quickly sparking the former frustration. Causing you to ask him slowly, “Tell me why I always get so wet and warm between my legs when I see you on my camera?” The tip of his knife reaches between your collarbones. And your breath hitches.
He lifts his knife in the air, the soft golden glow of your wax burner you use for a nightlight glinting off the blade. And he quickly brings the knife down, plunging it into your side table, sticking it in deep into the hard wood.
You gulp looking over at the knife sticking up right. While you think about the thickness of his arm underneath the dark bagging sleeve of his outfit.
Glancing back up at his mask, staring into the dark eyeholes. Waiting for his neck action. While missing the way the knife felt as it dragged along your skin.
He loosens his grip on your wrists enough to let the blood flow back your hands. While he says, “For the same reason I stole your panties, your horny. And next time I’m cumming on your face and not cleaning it up.” He grabs your phone off the side table. While you softly ask,
“Cum?” Trying to get him to explain a little more. But he says,
“Fuck you really are a sex dumb virgin aren’t you? I mean I never saw you show interest in anyone. And all flirting your co-worker does goes straight over your head.” You whine your cheeks burning while you shift underneath him.
You tell him, “It’s my birthday-.” Before you could finish the phone clicked open. And he goes through your phone, which sparks him asking you two questions,
“You saved the videos of me jerking off? How many times do you watch it?” Looking aside while he placing your phone down and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. While you mumble,
“Almost every other day.” That was a lie, you saw it a video day, and part of you questioned why you are so mesmerized by it. There would be days you watched two different ones in a day.
Buying your answer and asking you, “What do you do when you watch it?” Other than press your thighs together. You just stared at the video.
Telling him, “Nothing. It just makes me wetter….it’s getting frustrating more so after I’m done watching the video.“ He places his rough thumb on your bottom lip. Slowly he drags his thumb along the curve of your bottom lip. While he coos,
"Poor little slutty virgin.” Like he is taking pity on you. And the problem you’ve told him about. That you so desperately wish he could help you with. Since you blame him, you whine,
“You’re the one who makes me feel so warm and wet. I was perfectly fine before you came along. Doing weird stuff with my panties and watching me sleep.” The texture of his glove is smoother than you thought it would be. You try to ignore how badly you wish he would never stop touching you.
He sounds like he is mocking you when he says right after, “Getting yourself hot and bothered without knowing how to take care of yourself. Do you want me to fix that problem for you?” You nod and beg,
“Please! Please while you’re living here with me instead of my panties, you can use me. I’ll be a good little slut after you take my virginity.” He keeps calling you a slutty little virgin. And while you didn’t know everything that is a slut entailed you wanted to be one for him. If it meant that you got him to touch you more.
He moves his hand from your and places it next to your head, propping himself up. While he asks, “Do you hear yourself? The filthy things coming out of your mouth. Your so fucking pent up and horny that is making you take like a whore already. Keep talking like that, telling me every filthy thing that passes your little head. Then I’ll keep you.”
Letting go of your wrists and telling you, “Move and I’ll cut you.” You keep your wrists together above your head. While he spreads your legs, before grabbing your white nightgown and bunching it up around your hips.
The cool air on your damp panties gives you goosebumps. And when he leans forward any sense of cold is gone as heat flushes throughout your body. Because of his mask so close to your white panties.
He says, “Fine I’ll keep you, but since you know I’m living in your house, that means I’m making myself more comfortable. And because you have already seen my cock several times. It’s fair I get to see how wet I make you, right?” You nod. But it isn’t good enough, he doesn’t move. Until you plead with him,
“Please look at how wet I am. Want to feel your glove between my legs. And I want to be full, I don’t know what with but I have a wet hole between my legs I want filled up so badly it hurts.” He rubs your soft pussy through your panties. And when he reaches the top, rubbing your clit there is this intense pleasure that jolts throughout your body.
He lets out a groan, "Your pathetic virgin pussy soaked through your panties while I had you pinned.” The way he said his taunts almost came across as a reward. Why else would you want to hear him call your pussy pathetic while you drool through your panties, craving something you know nothing about?
Your mind drifts back to all the videos causing you to ask, “Do I get to see your cock up close since you have your face in my pussy?” Biting into your lip as he sits up and stares down at you.
He asks, “You want an up-close look?” Wanting to hear you ask for his cock some more while he stops on your clit. Rubbing small circles through your panties into your puffy nub. While your toes curl from the pleasure and your pussy spasms.
You whine, "Please! Please ghost face while you’re living instead of using my panties you can…” you trail off your cheeks burning, “play with me instead?”
He grabs the dark handle of his large knife, pulling out of the wood he stuck it into. And you want to lift your head to watch when you feel the tip of it press your navel, just above the lace of your panties.
Slowly dragging the tip along the hip, along to your hip. While you fight the natural urge to jerk your hips away. There is a soft tingling pleasure that comes from cool blade running along your skin surprised you.
Slipping the flat of the knife underneath the lace strip of your panties and slicing it. And after cutting the other side, he slowly peels the panties off your soft pussy. The soft low whistle he makes before he says,
"Your wet pussy doesn’t want to let your panties go. Now if you want me to touch you be a good girl for me. Tell me did you like me cutting your panties off?” You nod, while he places the cool flat of the blade on your clit.
Your breath hitches while he snaps, “Use your words. Does my knife feel good against your slutty virgin pussy?” How did he expect you to speak when he is doing depraved things to your pussy? With his face so close to your dripping wetness.
Softly whining, “Yes, Ghostface.” Not knowing what else to call him. And when he stands up walking towards your open bedroom door you add,
“Please don’t leave me like this. I like the way your knife feels on my skin, it’s confusing why it feels so good. Please Ghostface, play with your slutty virgin pussy.” He grabs four belts that you have over the top of your bedroom door. Before turning back to face you and telling you,
“You really want me, don’t you? I wonder if every time you make this cute frustrated face,“ he points at you, and then points at your phone, "at your phone because you are watching me jerk my cock off. Wishing that you were the one getting my dick instead of my fist.” placing three of the belts on the bed between your parted legs. He ties one belt around your ankle, before tying the other side to the stick of the bedpost.
You say, “I want your cock so badly and I don’t even know why please teach me how to be a good slut for you.” He grabs another belt, tying your other ankle up with it. While he says,
“You’re going to call me Toji. from here on out.” All the times he wanted to help you undress after you got back from your shift at the dinner. Which is at most a fifteen-minute walk from your house should you not cut through the park.
Grabbing onto your dress and ripping it in two. Earning a loud gasp as the fabric rips all the way up between your breasts. And just as you are about to ask Toji what he did that for, he rips a shred of the fabric off.
Folding it up and climbing back onto the bed. Where he grabs the two belts between your legs and puts them next to your face. Before he wraps the folded-up fabric around your eyes, he tells you,
"Rule number one, no trying to steal peaks at my face. Rule number two, your pussy is mine and anyone who you let get too close between your legs is getting stuffed underneath your floorboards, dead or alive. Doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is you don’t let anyone else touch my pretty pussy.”
You want to whine and protest being blindfolded since you want to see him in real life. And not just your phone screen. But you bite back the complaints and say,
“This pussy is all yours, no one else makes your pussy as wet and warm as you do.” You don’t think your face could get any warmer.
Toji knows he is drawing this out having you beg and plead for him to touch you. But after finding out that you’ve happily let him stay here the past two months. While he thought you did not know, watching you, while you watched him.
Every single time he jerked off to the sight of your pretty face, you saved the video the next morning onto your phone. Could you not see that you had the rare chance of saving yourself from his obsession?
You could have turned him in and been done with him. Yet you left a spare key by the back door, leaving only a small low light on next to the ground. There were always blankets, and a pillow left behind neatly folded up on the sofa. Which made it easier for him to return it to its original position so it looked like he hadn’t slept on your sofa. You had been doing little things intentionally to make it easier for him to sleep there.
His mask recently got leaked onto the news. So you must know of the manhunt the cops are leading for him. And that your town is very aware of him stalking the streets. Yet you withheld the information that he had been living at your house.
Toji hadn’t been able to stay in one house; he picked to hide out in this long before he found out. So he should have picked up that something was up.
He says, “Based on the video the bedroom camera is in this teddy bear. And the other video angle comes from,” he pauses while he turns on your overhead light and looks up at your vanity. Where he catches the black glimpse of a small camera lens watching through the decorative wooden work at the top of the vanity.
He finishes by saying, “There it is.” He makes quick work tying your wrists to the large wooden pegs of the headboard. And then he stands up, smirking to himself. While he painfully throbs inside his jeans. Which are far too tight for him now.
Seeking relief and wanting to give you a show to watch when he isn’t home. Toji turns towards the teddy bear. Which stares at him with dark beady eyes, with its round cheeks and double chin.
Glancing down at your blindfolded and bound body, spread out. With your nightgown barely clinging to your body and no longer hiding anything from him. He feels some pre-cum seep into his boxers. Which he can now add to your dirty clothes to have you wash instead of stealing some money to go to the laundry mat when is mostly empty.
Slipping of his cloak and dripping it into the floor. Leaving him in his dark short sleeve shirt and dark jeans. Which he unbuttons as he grabs the teddy bear by its gut and points its face at you. So you can see what you look like when you watch this video over later.
Setting the teddy bear on the edge of your side table. Before unzipping his pants slowly, letting out a heavy sigh at the relief. Slowly pushing his pants down and keeping his boxers on. Which hug his cock and balls, giving you a flawless imprint that shows even the slopping head of his cock in great detail.
Cupping his ball and softly messaging them while letting out a heavy groan. While you whine next to him, he chuckles softly before telling you, “Don’t worry after I make you cum for the first time, you’ll get to see my cock.”
Hearing you ask, “How are you going to make me cum?” Makes his cock jerk, the sweet sound of your voice. He adored it, it was one reason he kept you alive after he helped himself to live in your house.
You pleaded for him to use you, even though you don’t know that he wants to cut you up, cover you in handprint-shaped bruises and fill you full of cum. He wants to put his name on your lower back.
“I’m going to block your cameras take my mask off and put my face between your legs. Then I’m going to suck on your clit till your gush on my face.” He should take the time to stretch you out by fucking his fingers into you until you can take at least three of his fingers.
“I want to know how you taste, I want to see you shake while you tell me it’s too much for you to handle. I’m going to need you to say marshmallow if you want to stop. Then I’ll clean you up and your ass is going back to sleep. While I shower and raid your kitchen for food.” He grabs the teddy bear by the neck again, bringing the camera close while he slips his boxers down.
Giving the camera a close-up view of his throbbing cock. He wants you to see every single puffy vein which runs down to his thick throbbing head. Which is getting pinker by the second. When Toji’s cock head slips out of his underwear, thick pre-cum creates small strings that quickly break when he pushes his underwear down his thick thighs.
It’s a pity that you aren’t losing your virginity to someone much more gentle than he plans to be. But the chance to feel how painfully tight your virgin pussy is too good to pass up. You would slowly get used to him while he fucks himself into you, anyway.
You’re quiet, perhaps taking in everything that is happening. So he gives you a moment. While he cups his balls, massaging them while letting out a heavy groan. And then your moment to think is over as he gets on the bed.
Angling the camera towards your face while he straddles your head. Letting go of his cupped balls, covering the bottom half of your face. You made a soft sound that is muffled by his balls. He lays his cock on your face.
“When you watch this video, I want you to rub your clit with your fingers. And if you can’t make yourself cum, then ask me. And I’ll tell you how to play with yourself, for when I’m not here.” He re-arranges himself, straddling your shoulders. His balls hanging on your neck. While he touches the tip of his cock to your lips.
After nights of jerking off to the thought of your soft lips wrapping around him Toji needs to feel our wet mouth wrapping around him. Make sure that the camera has a good view of his cock resting on your lips.
Telling you, “Open your mouth and keep it open, relax your throat. So I feel my cock since you can’t see it.” You open your mouth and when he thrusts his cock past your lips deep into your throat. His heavy, low hanging balls hitting your chin.
The pace he sets is shallow and quick. While his fat cock forced your mouth open wider than opened up for. He says, “No teeth or I’m stopping completely. Let your lips go over your teeth, and suck in your sweet cheeks.” Your cheeks hallow while you groan, his cock muffling the sound.
Your throat squeezes his cock as you gag when he tries to push half of his long cock into your mouth. While the angle your laying at keeps his cock from going deep into your throat.
He pulls his cock out and asks, “What’s your safe word?” The fact you know just how fucked up he is but want him anyway is making this more enjoyable. Since he doesn’t have to hide a thing with you, in fact, he has a chance at having a home with you. One that was warm with your soft, loving embrace, sparkling eyes, gentle smile, and warm pussy would wait for him.
You breathe out, “Marshmallows,” then quickly beg, “but please don’t stop I can be a good slut for you. Please make me your slut.” Toji pulls away, getting off the bed while you whine,
“Please no, I want your fat cock in my throat. I can handle it please Toji.” You pull at the belts that bind you to the bed, keeping you in a starfish on the bed.
He grabs his cloak off the floor and quickly blocks the camera. Before he pulls his mask off his face and takes a deep breath. Which he sets on the vanity before turning to look at you.
The view of your parted legs showing him your dripping wet pussy just waiting for him to use as he wished. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, climbing into the bed.
Settling between your legs and laying down. He bites down on your left thigh and slaps your pussy making you cry. While you try to jerk your legs shut out of reflex. Causing the belts to pull on your bedframe, as it rubs your skin.
Toji says, “That’s it, cry louder, I want to hear every single whine and moan.” And he slaps your pussy again, the wetness smearing on his fingers. You jerk your hips away, pressing them into the bed.
Opening his mouth wide so he can fit your whole pussy in his mouth. Moaning as he does, dragging his tongue up along your slit. He stops at your pussy hole as it clenches. And it takes every part of him not to push his tongue inside.
Sliding his tongue up to your clit. And pressing his tongue flat against your sensitive bud. While you roll your hips, instantly forgetting that he told you to keep still. And for the moment as you get your first taste of pleasure he doesn’t stop to remind you, just yet.
You taste so sweet, the taste of your wetness coating his tongue. And causing him to run his tongue down your slit. Lingering at your clenching pussy while you try to push your hips down. And ask,
“Is it weird to want something inside there?” He pulls away and slaps your pussy before rubbing your lips and clit with his large palm. While he responds with a question,
“Where do you think I’m going to stuff my cock?” He swirls the tips of his fat fingers, but doesn’t push them past your lips. Feeling you clench as if begging for him to slip one fingers past your dripping wet lips.
Already there is a small wet spot underneath you. While your juices drip down your asshole and onto your bedsheets. He smirks at how wet you are getting from the little he has done.
He says, “I should prep you for the thickness of my cock but I want to feel the tightness of your virgin pussy as I stretch it out for the first time. It’s going to hurt but you’re going to be a good girl and beg for it anyway aren’t you?” He dips his head down and flicks your clit with his tongue. While you whimper,
“Toji your mouth is on my nnng you’re so nmmnhhplease tooooji.” You can’t even string together a proper sentence the moment his tongue touches your clit.
Adding more pressure on your puffy clit with his tongue while you grind your hips against his tongue. Only for him to grab your hips, digging his nails in and smearing some of your wetness on you. While you try your best to be still.
Soft trembles run down your legs, as you moan, “Mmnngh there is a pressure ahhnn!” Jerking your hips up causing Toji to pull away as you plead,
“Please don’t stop, I need your warm tongue on my pussy.” Toji wraps his hand around the handle of his knife. Digging the tip by your nipple while he asks,
“Does my dirty tied-up whore want to cum all over my face? Are you going to beg me for it? Tell me how much you need my tongue on your clit. And how I’m going to be the only one who eats out this dripping pussy.“ Dragging the knife and making a shallow cut near your nipple, your blood trickling out.
Making his breath hitch as he moves the knife away. While leaning down and opens his mouth up wide. Biting down on your breast and flicking your nipple with his tongue. He loudly groans while sinking his teeth in deeper, making you whine.
Whimpering to Toji, "I need you to cut me, tie me up, eat my pussy and stretch me out with your fat cock. I want to make you feel better than your hand and my panties do. Mmm please stuff your fat cock inside your virgin pussy.” With his teeth still sunken into your skin, Toji pulls away. While you arch your chest following his head.
Toji presses the tip of the knife to your side, dragging it down. Only piercing your skin as he got close to your hip, creating a long cut over your hip. And the soft cry that passes his lips has him wondering if you’re crying beneath the blindfold.
You ask him, “How does that feel good? You make me feel so funny, I don’t want it to stop.” The thought of your eyes filling up with tears while your pussy gets wetter from the pain making his cock twitch. He places the knife next to you on the bed and grabs your cut hip. Smearing the blood with his large hands while he tells you,
“What a disturbed slut you are, getting off on such filthy things. You look so fucking hot covered in blood. Fuck, you’re making a puddle and drenching your little asshole and I’m not even touching your pussy. Are you so pent up and desperate you are getting off on such sickening acts?” After easing you into taking his degradation for the praise he is taking it up.
You moan, “I’m so wet between my legs. Please I need more. Can I have more of…” You trail off not knowing what to ask for. Before you quickly add, “You, can I have more of you? I don’t care how you give it to me, I just need to feel you please Toji.”
Toji dips his head back down between your legs, he says, “I’m going to teach you every single dirty way to get both of us off. You are going to be the best slut I ever fucked. A slut made just to take my loads of cum.” Sucking your clit into his mouth and rubbing small circles into your puffy bundle of nerves.
The pressure is rapidly building between your legs. And it’s unlike anything else you’ve ever felt. It’s addictive and intense spreading throughout your body and making you shake and tremble. While weird sounds pass your lips.
Toji groans and the vibrations Sending you over the edge so quickly that your mind goes back while you let out a loud cry of, “TOJI PLESSSE!” And as he doesn’t stop the overwhelming pleasure making you try to jerk your hips away from Toji.
You wish you could see what his face looks like. But you would respect his wishes. And maybe one night he might trust you enough. Since he trusted. you enough to keep you alive and let you know a name he goes by.
The tips of his fingers swirl around the rim of your pussy. Never pushing past yet feeling the spasms that make you clench. While you whine,
“Need you inside me please can’t wait any longer.” He reaches over you and second later you feel the cool metal of his blade.
A sharp sting following as he cuts the top of your thigh. While he pulls away from your clit with a loud pop, and he bites down over the small shallow cute he made. As he places his thumb on your clit.
The roughness of his thumb on your overly sensitive clit causing you to whine, “Too much.” He let’s go of your thigh and says,
“That intense high you felt is how you know you just cummed. When your alone watching me jerk my cock I want you to rub your clit till you feel this good. But never strictly your fingers inside of yourself, that’s all for me to fill up. I’ll punish you if I found out you stuck your fingers or anything else inside my pussy.” He pulls his hand away from your pussy and you feel the knife hit the bed beside you.
There is some sound from the foot of your bed, the vanity creaks. And then seconds later he is taking your blindfold off. The bright light of your bedroom bounces off the whiteness of his mask making it harder to see with the blurriness that comes from just opening your eyes.
Just as you are about to say something he unties your wrists from the bed. Which ache from the leather of your belt rubbing them. He tells you, “You can move, and touch any part of me but my mask.” Wrapping your hand around his cock, feeling the softness of his skin in contrast to the hardness underneath.
Tracing your fingers along the thick vein that runs underneath his cock. You look up at Toji telling him, “If I can’t wrap my hand fully around your cock then I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He says,
“Don’t worry about that your pussy is more than wet enough. Once I untie your legs, I want you to be one on all fours with your ass in the air and your attention focused on your mirror. So you can see me fuck my cock into your slutty little pussy.” You let go of his cock, and he moves towards the bed of the bed.
Undoing the belts wrapping around your ankles, but leaving all four belts attached to the bed. While you close your legs and draw them in, rubbing your sore ankles. And looking at the cut on your hip. Which curves with the bent of your hip.
Toji asks, “What’s the safe word?” Getting on the bed behind you, he adds, “Or do you want to keep be nothing more than a set of holes for me to fuck my fat cock into till I dump my cum inside of you?” You move onto all fours, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are wide, and Toji has blood smeared on your body. While there is a wet spot between your parted legs from where you cummed on Toji’s face.
Your body burns while you watch yourself beg, “Please stuff your cock into my pussy and take my virginity.” While he grabs his knife and gets up on his knees behind you. Cupping your left cheek with a heavy, gloved hand, he spreads your cheeks apart.
You glance up at the camera on top of your vanity which is catching all of this. While Toji drags the knife down on the far left side of your back. He says,
“You are going to be a good whore and stay still while I brand you as my personal slut. And carve my name into your lower back.” He drops his hand from your ass cheek and then you feel Toji’s thick, warm cock rubbing up and down your wet pussy lips.
Pushing your lips back, Toji doesn’t stop you as you try to take the tip of his fat cock. The intense tingling pain makes your nose curl and your back arch up, making the tip dig deeper. While you reflexively pull your hips away, unable to take even half of his cockhead.
He completes the T of his name and you say, “You’ll have to re-carve your name once it fades.” With his cock head between your puffy pussy lips, Toji lets himself go. And he grabs onto your hips. While he lifts the knife off your back, as he pulls your hips back and thrusts his hips forward.
The tip of his cock slips inside you. And you can’t stop the cry that passes your lips. Prompting Toji to ask you, “How bad does it hurt?” Your pussy tightens around him as if trying to crush him. While he uses. his strength to force his cock deep inside you.
Cutting off your reply of “A lot-NNNG!” With a loud whine as your breath picks up with the pounding of your heart. While fire hot pain fills your body as Toji’s thick cock stretches your pussy out.
The coolness of the blade becomes colder against your burning skin. As you Whine, “It hurts so good, it’s so confusing what you doing to my pussy. How does it hurt yet I don’t want it to stop?” He pulls away, till only his tip remains inside of you. And he pauses while your whimpers,
“Nng your thick cock is rubbing my insides and tugging on my pussy when you move like that.” He admires the way your lips look puffier wrapping around his cock. And the sight of himself vanishing inside you as he pushes his hips is so overwhelming he can barely keep his hand still while he carves the o of his name next to the large T.
Finishing the O, the sight of more blood covering your pretty skin makes his cock jerk. While he groans, “You’re getting wetter fucking! Keep clenching my fat cock with your pathetic pussy that only gets off on filthy, depraved fucking. Mmnn such a fucking whore crying for my cock. Don’t be confused just accept your purpose in life as a dumb cock sleeve.”
The way he looked in the mirror, naked behind you beside his mask. With its dark fabric covering his neck. While the longest hanging scrap hangs down between his thick man tits. Which if it wasn’t for you facing away from him you would run your hands over his chest. And covering him in kisses.
Moaning to Toji, “I can feel the way your cock curves inside of me nng!” He pauses with his cock deep inside of you while he carves the J and quickly follows it with the I. Before making a shallow cut between your shoulder blades. And then tossed the knife to the ground.
You feel his gloved finger press against your other hole. Opening your mouth but your words come out as a loud moan as he pushes his thick finger into your ass. While he leans down over your smaller body, pressing his large chest against your back.
Moving his hand on your hip up to your throat. Toji wraps his fingers around your neck, pressing the same sore ring he already made. He groans,
“My handprint around your throat will be like a collar showing those others your fucking taken. You are my personal cumdump, every single night you’re going to be a good slut and take my cock in any of your slutty tight holes. And you’re going to thank me for the chance to be a good whore for me aren’t you?” You can’t answer while he tightens his grasp on your throat. While he fucks his thick cock into you at a fast and rough pace.
Toji’s heavy cock head hits the back of your pussy roughly as if he is trying to push deeper. And you swear he is trying to push deeper into your gut, which you can feel bulge and protrude when his hips hit yours.
Groaning loudly with his head over your shoulder, his body large enough that it’s covering yours. Making you feel so small beneath him, while he holds onto your hips. And curls his finger inside your other hole, pushing your wetness deep inside of your ass.
He asks, “Are you about to cry from me spitting your stupid little pussy open?” When he sees the tear building in your eyes. And when he lets go of your throat the way you let out a strained cry has Toji saying,
“Mmm I hope it’s too damn for your tiny slutty pussy to handle.” He leans back, looking down at your burning back. Where the cuts give you a satisfying sting that makes your pussy throb around Toji.
Placing your hand on your gut, to feel the way he creates a bulge inside your stomach. While he pumps his fingers into your ass faster, matching the strokes of his cock. The way his finger feels pushing your wetness into your ass is strange. Yet you don’t want it to stop, as you clench both of your holes around him.
Begging Toji, “Harder, fuck your thick cock deep into my guts. It hurts so much that my brain is going-aaahhhnnnng!” His cock hits a sweet spot inside you. Which has pulling his finger out of your ass while he groans,
“There is your sweet spot, didn’t want to take my cock out of your pussy till I found it.” He pulls his cock out of your pussy leaving you empty. And before you could even complain his cock is trusting deep into your other hole. While you scramble for the words, you reach back placing your hand on his abs smeared with your blood.
The words that come out are, “That isn’t my pussy, wrong hole Toji. nnng fuck why does it feelsoooogoodtoooootojiwrong-” Your words are slurring together. While the tears blurring your vision drip down your cheeks.
Toji slips off his gloves throwing them onto the floor and grabs your hips. Keeping you from running away from him. While he pushes you fall onto your stomach. His thick thighs press your legs together while you stretch them out. As you lay down with Toji deep in your ass, straddling your body.
Toji asks, “Then why it is taking my cock so well?” Then he quickly reminds you, “Say marshmallows and I’ll stop otherwise I’m cumming inside your ass instead of your pussy so I don’t knock you up.” You wonder how his cum is going to feel inside your white hot burning ass. Which he is pressing into the bed, keeping you from wiggling away from his punishing thrusts.
Lifting your head and look straight into the mirror. Watching the lines on his abs deepen with every thrust. You beg Toji, “Please fill my ass full of your thick cum. Want to get you off and make you feel good. It feels so good knowing that you’re enjoying my slutty ass the way it’s supposed to be used. It can’t be wrong if it feels this good, it’s too much yet not enough. NnnggToji! Fuck me Toji please, please please.” The pressure is building in your gut, despite no attention being given to your clit and pussy.
Grabbing a handful of your hair to keep and holding your head up the moment you try to muffle your cries. He asks you, “Are you getting off on having your asshole fucked? I hope you are feeling my cock still in your pussy and ass tomorrow morning when you wake up. I can’t wait to see you walking fun from me spitting you open.” His heavy balls hit your ass with every thrust.
Moaning to Toji, who moves his hand from your hips to your wrist. The way Toji is pinning your smaller body with a large bulky one. While he fucks himself into your is intoxicating. Biting into your bottom lip as your eyes roll back. While an intense wave of pleasure washes over you.
Letting go of your bottom lip and moaning, “Mmmnng Toji I can feel the veins of your cock pulsing. Nng I’m a dirty slut who enjoys getting her pussy and ass filled up full of cock and cum.” Toji lets go of your hair, slapping your ass roughly, watching it ripple from the impact of his large heavy palm.
Toji groans, “Damn right you are, that’s all you are, a set of tight wet holes for me to fuck.” You shift your hips from side to side while he picks his pace up. And you don’t think he can go any faster. While your heavy bed rocks, the headboard hits the back wall with every thrust.
Thick warm cum spills inside your ass which Toji smears around as he keeps fucking himself inside of you. While he moves his hand from your hair to your throat, which he only holds. Letting go of your wrist and placing his hand on the bed next to your head to prop himself up.
Pleading with Toji, “Don’t stop I’m going to cum again.” You hear a loud moan come from Toji as he keeps fucking his sensitive cock into your cum filled asshole. His thrusts become uneven as he suddenly jerks deeper while pulling out.
Toji grunts, “Fucking cum from getting your asshole filled up now.” He lets go of your wrists and slaps your ass again. While you gush Toji loudly moans,
“My slut. is a squirter fucking shit. Squirting from getting your pretty little ass stuffed. How fucking slutty and depraved are you?” You whine and pout when he pulls away and he is no longer touching you.
You are about to sit up when he tells you, “Lay still I need to clean you up before I take a shower.” And you need to go back to sleep, I’ll be here in the morning expecting breakfast since you know I’m living here.“ By the way, your pussy and asshole ache you are thinking about ordering some food for delivery.
Grateful that you don’t have work the next day, you lay on the bed crossing your arms and resting your head. While you bask in the aching afterglow that has your whole body feeling tingly and floaty. As your mind is hazy with a heavy cloud filling it.
Toji slips off the bed and walks into your bathroom. Where you watch as he grabs the hand towel and cleans his softening cock off. Before he vanishes from the sight of the doorway. Only to appear some moments later with a fresh hand towel that he sets by the sink.
Grabbing the handle of the cabinets underneath your bathroom sink. He opens them and pulls out the medical box you have underneath your skin. Pulling out the small bottle of rubbing alcohol he pours it onto a hand towel you had by your skin.
Coming back into your room, Toji climbs back onto your bed. He presses the wet hand towel to your cut up back, cleaning the blood off your back. With a gentleness, you didn’t expect from him.
Ignoring the soft stinging pain of the disinfectant on your Mumbling your question, "Will you sleep in the bed with me? It’s cozier than the sofa.” He cups your ass cheek, gently massaging it.
“After I shower and eat something I’ll come to hog the bed and blankets from you princess.” The seemingly affectionate nickname makes your heart pound as the sleepiness that was setting in fades.
Asking Toji, “Princess? I thought I was a whore?” Part of you thinks this aftercare is better than the sex itself. While the other part of you wants Toji to fuck you again. Just so you can feel this throbbing thick cock inside of you.
He says, “When I have my cock in you yeah, you’re my fucking whore. But right now you’re my princess, you did good for me.” With the towel in your head, he rolls you onto your back. Before he gets off the bed and then lifts you off the bed, cradling you to his chest. He takes you into the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet, telling you,
“Always pee after we fuck that’s another rule.” Toji lefts you in the bathroom to use it. And he strips your bed of its sheets. You figure he already knows where the spares are after living in your house for the past two months. So you don’t bother telling him as he leaves with your soiled covers.
Wiping and then flushing, you stand up only to gasp at the wobbliness of your legs. You grab onto the corner of the bathroom counter, leaning on that for support. While you move towards the sink where you wash your hands.
Any sense of being awake vanishing as heavy exhaustion washes over you. And you can’t help but close your eyes as you yawn and dry your hands off on the large fluffy towel hanging from its metal bar.
Walking into your bedroom where you stand by your bed as Toji stretched the bedsheet over the mattress. While he says, “You look like you are about to fall asleep standing up. At least you won’t be waking up several times tonight. Since I fucked you straight to sleep.” You merely let out a soft grunt in response.
Too sleepy to speak to Toji, as you grab one of the fluffy pillows. You hug your body while you stare at the bed longingly. And the moment he finishes with the bed sheet you lay down on the bed.
Toji snickers as he spread the heavy blanket out over you. He says, “Sleep tight princess, I’ll bully you again in the morning.” Closing your eyes and letting the heaviness of sleep tempt you into drifting off.
The next morning when you wake up with the memories of last night fresh on your mind. And the warmth of Toji’s body while he lays next to you. His large arm rested over your body pinning your arm to your side.
Your clit and pussy are throbbing at the memory of Toji’s thick cock filling you up. And thoughts about what it would feel like to have him cum inside your pussy, instead of your ass fill your mind.
Biting into your bottom lip and moving your pinned arm slowly. Making his heavy arm move as he pulls away, rolling onto his back. Leaving you free to slip your hand between your legs, touching your puffy clit.
Slipping your fingers down your slit, getting your fingers tips wet. And when you touch your clit again, you can’t stop yourself from letting go of your bottom lip and whimpering, “Toji.” Which earns a grumble from Toji laying next to you.
Jerking your hips while you keep rubbing your sensitive clit. Your finger doesn’t have the warm softness of Toji’s persistent tongue. Nor the soft and smooth texture of his glove but it feels almost as good.
Toji grumbles, “You’re moving a lot for someone who is supposed to be sleeping in.” Pulling your hand away from your clit and then rolling onto your side to look up at Toji, who still has his mask on.
You confess, “I keep thinking about what you did to me last night. I need more of you, I want you to bully my pussy some more like you said you would.” You let your attention drift from his mask down along his body. Stopping where the blanket gives to a large bulge.
Toji says, “Prove it to me by sucking my cock off making my cum be the first thing you eat today.”
m.list
#toji smut#daddy toji smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fushiguro toji x reader
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Steve managed to accidentally crush his headphones over the weekend, so he reluctantly turned to Billy Hargrove for help.
Steve and Billy hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best of starts, considering they beat the crap out of each other within the week. Billy has mellowed out significantly since Neil had left though, so Steve told himself to grow some balls and walked into the general repair shop Billy worked at.
The death metal blasting from the speakers was obnoxious but there was basically nobody there so Steve was able to swallow down the rising panic creeping up his throat. Billy was just some guy. He’d move back to California come the new year and Steve’s life would be exactly the same as it had always been. At least that’s what he told himself.
Billy raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Steve tripping over the step on his way up then stammering his way through an apology. His headphones lay sadly tucked under arm, limp and lifeless.
Actually getting the word autism out was harder than Steve anticipated. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to telling other people or maybe it was because he found Billy very attractive and he knew what happened whenever anyone he liked found out.
The curl of the lip. The sneer. The asking if he was like mentally five or something.
He managed to stumble his way through explaining that they were his sensory aides and they really helped him not get overwhelmed in public and please don’t punch me again Hargrove.
Billy didn’t punch him, much to Steve’s great surprise. Instead he mumbled something about be right back Harrington and disappeared into the staff only area, only to return with a brand new pair which he thrust into Steve’s hands.
“I get it Harrington. Just take these, you busted yours pretty badly. On the house.”
Steve was pretty sure his brain malfunctioned briefly and then attempted to exit the shop after pushing on a pull door.
Billy had been pretty civil with him. So either it was all some great prank that was about to fall on his head or Steve may have misjudged him just a little.
He didn’t risk reaching out again until a month later when he’d really managed to fuck his oven up and gave himself a five minute mantra about being confident before dming Billy on Instagram asking for help.
A message came back in a minute asking what the fuck he’d managed to do. Steve insisted he had no idea then he just got a short, blunt “on my way princess.”
Billy’s tool box was extensive. As much as Steve would have wished, that wasn’t an innuendo. He just had a lot of kit, probably more than was needed for the actual state of the oven.
They hung out a bit while Billy tinkered, threw out jargon that Steve didn’t understand, then declared it was fixed. Steve resolutely tried not to stare at a peach ass in very tight denim. He may have failed.
A comfortable silence fell afterwards until Steve panicked and asked if he wanted a coffee. It only seemed polite. Billy had been working all afternoon pretty much.
How that ended in them snuggled onto the sofa, Steve couldn’t exactly remember. All he could really register was that Billy’s arms were warm and strong and Steve wished he could just stay there.
Then he snuggled in further and Billy stiffened up. Crap. He’d fucked up somehow.
Steve pulled himself back up into a sitting position, self consciously checking his hair. Billy looked slightly bewildered but more at himself than Steve.
“You…………you alright man? I didn’t push you too far right?”
He got a slow blink in response and being pulled back into a muscular chest. Steve just hoped he wasn’t doing his “simp face”, as Robin had named it.
“Steve”
Ok first name was not a good sign. Prepare for a fist.
“I fucking like you ok? Don’t laugh. I’ve liked you ever since I first set eyes on you, you beautiful oblivious bastard.”
And Steve. Steve had always kind of hated romcoms. They were dumb and clishe and the couples who got together by the end never really made sense.
But looking at Billy’s slightly flushed face and after hearing his confession, Steve thought the romcom route might be the best way to go.
Billy really was a very good kisser.
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Hey! I saw the request were open so can I request a scenario where reader gets hit by some power where she ends up with cat ears and tail and before crew can figure out how to fix it, she goes into cat-like heat and who is better to help her out than her bf Luffy! (Along with captain kink and soft!dom luffy if you can plz!) Thank you:)
I gotta say writing this made me simp for Luffy a little, when I normally don't really. That's to say, I really enjoyed writing this because hot damn this man could make me fold.
WC: 4.2k
TW's: Neko!reader, reader gets cat ears and tail, reader goes into heat, captain kink, kitten kink, mentions of a fight, soft!dom Luffy, slight mentions of subspace?, slight tongue/drool kink, luffy makes references to 'milk' and 'cream', luffy being kinda dumb but its cute so its okay, ends on slight cliffhanger
The fight itself was pretty simple. She only managed to scratch you with some weird cat-like claws, and you promptly knocked her on her ass with a single hit. It paid off training with the Strawhats, even if it meant others were constantly attacking you all for your bounty.
Luffy will be so proud of me you thought happily. Your boyfriend had been teaching you that one move to help you improve your fighting skills. You could take care of yourself of course, but you didn't have the same monstrous strength or skills as the monster trio, let alone Luffy. You bounded up to your captain excitedly.
"Did you see? Did you see?"
He turned to you with a wide grin, and wrapped his arms around you a few times to hold you tight.
"Yeah! You did so well. I'm proud of you!"
You giggled and hugged him back the best you could with your limited arm use.
"C'mon! I'm getting hungry and Sanji said he would have something made by the time we got back" he said, unwrapping himself from you. You smiled and shook your head at his ridiculous appetite.
"Lead the way, captain" you teased. He gave you a sly look at your nickname before taking off at a run, dragging you along by your hand. You could hardly keep your feet on the ground, basically flying behind him as he sprinted towards the Sunny. You two made it there in record time, arriving just as Sanji had finished bringing out the food from the kitchen to the picnic blanket on the deck.
"WE'RE BAACCK!!!" Luffy announced. Sanji greeted Luffy with a "welcome back" tossed over his shoulder as he focused on making sure he had enough food for everyone. Nami, Chopper and Usopp looked up from lounging on the deck at Luffy's loud arrival.
"Oi Luffy! We made a new- WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!" Usopp screeched as his eyes landed on you. You blinked at him, glancing down at yourself. Your clothes and skin were a little scuffed and dirty from the fight and getting dragged through the city behind Luffy, but it wasn't anything that was unusual for this crew. Luffy looked at you, glancing over your body before looking at the sniper.
"Whaddy-"
"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Nami screeched, interrupting the captain.
"Hah?? The heck are you guys talking about? Is this a prank?"
At Nami's shriek, Sanji had whirled around, eyes searching for enemies or blood. His eyes finally landed on you, and his jaw dropped, cigarette hanging limply from his lip.
"Sanji? What's wrong?" You furrowed your brow, thoroughly confused as to why everyone was reacting this way. You watched in horror as blood started trickling out his nose.
"Chopper! Sanji's bleeding!" you cried, pointing at the cook while calling for the reindeer.
"Oh Luffy. You're back. Hey why does she have cat ears and a tail?" Zoro asked nonchalantly, munching on some food with a bottle of sake within reach. You stared at the swordsman for a moment. Tail? Ears? Cat? You looked down and around at your ass. Sure enough, a cat tail was poking out from the waistband of your shorts. Now that you noticed it though, it was incredibly uncomfortable. Your eyes whipped to your boyfriend.
"I have a tail."
"You have cat ears!" he exclaimed excitedly, reaching out to the top of your head. You gasped as his calloused hands ran roughly over your new ears. They twitched out of his grasp, slapping against his hand as they flicked immediately forward again. You whimpered.
"Just... just give me a moment. I need to change out of these shorts" you said as calmly as you could. You walked stiffly to the girl's quarters, tail bending painfully upwards at the sensitive base. You managed to close the door before immediately stripping off your shorts with a groan.
Now alone and more comfortable, you nearly sprinted to the mirror to take a look. Your reflection gasped in time with you. You still oddly enough had your human ears, but your boyfriend was right. Furry cat ears stuck through your hair, matching the color perfectly. The fur gradually faded to a few shades lighter at the tip. You spun around to look at your ass. Yep. Still had a tail. It was smooth and lanky, but still soft. You tried to move it, but it hung limp. You tried again. Nothing. You started to get frustrated, and the tail flicked in response. Huh. You cleared your mind of all thoughts regarding you moving your tail, and simply did. It swung back and forth easily. You grinned. This was so cool. But it did push down the band of your panties, so you should change those and put on a skirt to allow for easy movement of your new appendage
You rummaged through your clothes, trying to find a skirt. You finally found a clean one, tucked away in the back of a drawer. It was short, but it was all you had at the moment. You found some stringy thongs as well that allowed the back string to slide along the band. It would be perfect to make room for your tail.
You slid them up your thighs, and tucked your tail through one of the leg holes (though that was a rather loose terms for these), and shifted the band up and over the base of the tail, and moved the string to the side. It put some pressure on the tail, but it felt like you would get used to it fairly soon. You checked your new outfit in the mirror, frowning slightly at what you saw. Your shirt no longer matched your outfit, and it was dirty and sweaty too. You changed quickly into a tight tank-top that fit your curves perfectly, and matched your skirt. It was a slightly revealing outfit, but whatever. Nami wore skimpy outfits all the time and nobody cared.
You left the room, looking forward to eating some of Sanji's food, and you felt your tail flicking with the anticipation. A strange heat start pooling low in your gut, but you dismissed it as hunger as your eyes landed on the food and quickly sat down next to Luffy, not missing the stares you attracted.
"You look so cute!" Nami cried. Robin looked like she was ready to cry from cuteness overload by looking at your ears. You smiled bashfully, hearing your tail thud behind you in response to your embarrassment. Luffy filled his cheeks with food and paused to chew while reaching out to your new cat ears curiously. He threaded his fingers to your scalp, finding where the skin smoothly changed into fur. It felt amazing. The warmth in your abdomen built to a more familiar sensation, but you couldn't quite place it yet, too distracted by the wonderful tastes in your mouth and the skilled fingers petting your ears. Your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, and you hardly noticed a vibration start building in your chest. Luffy fingers paused and retracted.
"Are you... purring?"
Your eyes snapped open and with it, the vibration in your chest stopped. You noticed the crew had fallen silent as they waited for your reply, and heat flooded your cheeks in response to their stares.
"...was I? It just felt so good when you pet my ears like that" you said shyly. Robin giggled, and confirmed your question with a nod. Luffy swiped food from Nami's plate while she was distracted with your newfound talent. She reached over to knock him on the head, but your body reacted as soon as she moved to attack. You leapt across the spread of food, tackling her to the grass. You felt a hiss spit from your lips as you held her down.
"Mine" you growled. Your hands picked up her shoulders and slammed then back down on the grass. Nami's wide, brown eyes stared at you in shock, and her body went slack in submission to your attack.
"Oi!" Luffy cried from his place. You blinked. What the-?
"Oh my gosh, Nami! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I don't know what came over me" you cried. You helped her up, and she waved off your apology.
"It's fine. You're probably just a little possessive right now with that cat devil fruit effects. Are you okay? Your pupils turned into slits like a cats just now."
You looked around the crew. Most of them looked a little worried about you, but Zoro had an unimpressed look as he focused on his food and Sanji looked like he would pass out from being a flustered mess.
"Hey, let's go lay down. Maybe some sleep will help since food hasn't gotten rid of it yet." Luffy took your hand, and a wave of heat went through you. Your legs felt wobbly, and you could only take a couple steps before your knees gave out. You heard Chopper running over.
"Chopper! What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know, but her scent has changed even from when she came on board like this... It's almost like she's... um..." Chopper trailed off, hovering over your body. A blush colored his cheeks. He looked around for Zoro before bounding up to him.
"Hm? What do you mean she's in heat?!"
You heard shocked, strangled noises from the other men except Luffy.
"Heat? Is she overheating?"
Nami sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose, hiding her blush. Robin nodded in understanding before answering Luffy.
"No, it means she has a very strong desire to breed."
Luffy crossed his arms in thought. You whined as another wave of searing heat gripped your lower abdomen. You weakly reached out for him, finally understanding the sensation.
"Breed? Like have babies? But babies only come from sex" he stated shamelessly. Understanding lit up his face as soon as he registered what he said.
"Oh! You're really horny! Everyone go to town, we'll be loud... and probably take a while." He picked you up in his arms as he spoke, and you moaned at the simple touch.
There were mixed reactions from the crew. Sanji and Chopper looked like they were going to pass out, though for wildly different reasons. Brook and Franky were tittering like school girls, earning themselves a knock on the head from a very red-faced Nami. There was a light flush on both Robin and Zoro's cheeks, but they obediently rose to leave the ship. Luffy didn't even wait for everyone to get off the ship before bounding to the men's room.
"Lu... Please. It aches" you whined, gripping his shirt. He shushed you, kicking open the door. You felt him lay you down on the couch.
"It's okay. I'll take care of you. What do you need? Did you take your birth control today?"
"Luffy! Please! I need you inside me NOW. I took it so please. Please please please get inside me!" Your whines became louder as he looked at you in surprise. You clawed at his shirt, desperate even for the open-chested fabric to be ripped off his muscular frame.
"Okay, okay kitten. Let's get you undressed." You whined, legs shaking already from desperation, and you gasped shakily as his hands deftly pulled down your skirt and thongs.
"Luffy!"
You pulled at your shirt, and it ripped apart. Your captain looked up in surprise, catching your hands.
"You have claws too?!"
"Lu I swear to god get your dick inside me NOW!"
"Okay okay! Just gimme a se- mmmph!"
You yanked him forward by the nape of his neck, smashing your mouths together in a desperately messy kiss. He shifted so he was straddling you, knees on either side of your hips while his elbows rested on either side of your neck. He pulled away just far enough to breathe.
"You're so fucking slutty when you're desperate for me like this" he murmured, trailing hot kisses up your neck. He nibbled on your human earlobe, and caught your hands with a grunt as you fondled his hardening length with desperation.
"Bad kitty, looks like you need to be punished"
He bit your bottom lip gently and pulled before letting it go, sitting up slightly so he could pin your wrists above your head.
"Is this really affecting you that much? That you forgot who's going to fuck you?" His voice was laced with honest curiosity, trying to gauge how much being in heat is affecting you. You wordlessly nodded, staring up at him, dazzled by his dark eyes and cute scar.
"please" you breathed. His gaze softened, and he leaned in for a kiss.
"Okay then. Lemme give my cute lil kitty a treat" he smirked against your lips. He prodded his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you opened your mouth with a groan, accepting him as he ravaged your mouth.
He let his tongue swell slightly with his powers, readying your mouth to accept his length. It was messy and obscene. Drool dripped down your cheeks and you bucked your hips in search of friction. He pulled back with a groan.
"Fuck you're my gorgeous little slut like this. You remember the system, right?"
You whined and bucked your hips again, eyes glazed. He harshly grabbed your breast harshly, pinching your nipple get to get your attention.
"Hey. You know the system right?"
"Yes captain" you whined. You were panting and shaking with desperation. You felt him tense at the name of command, letting out a shuddering breath against your neck. Your skin felt too sensitive, too hot.
"C-captain please!"
He pulled back with a groan, his arm stretching to keep your hands in place.
"Don't move your hands." he ordered, letting go only after you nodded slightly. He stood and quickly yanked down his shorts and boxers, letting his dick slap against his stomach before bobbing down. He was fairly long and thick, but stretched himself bigger when you begged for more. The brown tip was flushed slightly pink with desperation.
A shiver trailed fingers down your spine at the sight, and you started drooling again. He looked you up and down for a few moments, a smirk curling his handsome mouth.
"Good kitty. Come here and get your treat" he cooed. You moved in the blink of an eye, sitting up and crawling on your hands and knees over the cushions to reach his cock as he stood at the foot of the couch. Your lips wrapped around him, and you immediately took him as far as you could, letting the tip hit the back of your throat. You moaned in relief at the taste of his pre, eyes rolling in the back of your head as you sucked and bobbed your head. You felt your slick dripping down your thighs, cooling as it traced the flesh. You moaned at the sensation, feeling it for the first time.
Luffy let out a deep groan at the messy, skilled blowjob you were enthusiastically giving, head tilted to look at the ceiling. A shudder ran through him as you flicked your tongue up and down the shaft as you descended to deep throat him. He bit his thumb and blew, inflating his hand slightly.
"Gotta get ya ready, kay?" He didn't wait for your answer, reaching behind you to grip your ass for a second before plunging a finger into your dripping pussy. You squealed at the sudden unexpected intrusion, but moaned in relief at the stretch. Luffy groaned deeply at the vibration accompanying your heavenly mouth. A few pumps of his hand later, and he added a second finger. Your eyes rolled back into your head in relief. He wasn't hitting your sweet spots, but you were still well on your way to cumming due to your sensitivity.
He finger-fucked you harshly, making your mouth take more of him as he slammed into your pussy. You were being used, and the thought made you clench around his fingers.
"Fuck. Shit I can't last much longer. Want me to cum in your mouth?"
You eagerly nodded the best you could, muffled "mmmhmm"'s coming from your throat.
"Such a good little kitty. Want your captain's milk? F-fuck! Cumming!" Hot spend spurted down your throat. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the taste as you swallowed it down easily, and it sent you over the edge into your first orgasm. It was intense, white-hot pleasure racing through your nerves as you shook, impaled by him. A deep, throaty groan left Luffy's lips as he spasmed in your mouth, and you kept sucking, trying to pull more from his cock. He grabbed your hair and yanked your head off.
"Greedy"
You smiled a little, and he surged forward in a harsh kiss. He hummed at the taste of himself mixed with you, appreciated how it marked you as his.
"I think it's only fair if I get a taste of you now"
Before you knew it, you were flipped over on your back, head resting on the armrest and Luffy was between your shaking thighs. He eyed your soaking pussy, and the traces left by your weeping slick.
"You got a taste of my milk, now I want to taste you as you cream on my face. Got it?" His voice was gravely and deeper than his usual bright sounding tone, and it sent desire punching through you again. You could only groan, head fuzzy with lust. You rolled your hips towards his face tantalizingly, and he sucked in a breath at the small squelch that accompanied the movement.
"Such a good girl for me, kitty" he murmured. The compliment vaguely registered in your head before he dove in, tongue collecting slick from your dripping cunt. You moaned at the sensation, pleasure rolling through you at the small motion.
"C-Cap-captain!"
He pulled back, and you hissed at the lack of contact, looking down at him. There was a tiny pool of both his saliva and your slick on his curled tongue, and he made a show of bringing it into his mouth and swallowing, moaning at the taste. You could only watch in wide-eyed silence, the end of your tail flicking with anticipation as he slowly eased his face back between your thighs.
"Say it again." his lips whispered against your puffy clit, and you exhaled harshly at the sensation.
"Captain! Please~" you begged, feeling close to tears with frustration. He didn't even bother with a reply. Something seemed to snap in him at your sweet words, and he greedily licked up and down your pussy, groaning deeply and gulping as you ground your hips against his tongue. One arm pinned your hips down easily, showcasing his hidden strength.
He let his tongue trace random shapes on your clit, that were, unbeknownst to you, spelling his name. Your cute little cunt was his. Your back arched at a particularly hard lick against your throbbing clit, head tilting back. He ran his hands over your back, feeling how much pleasure his tongue brought you. He decided to take pity on you, and finally flicked it over your clit, abusing the poor nub to bring your orgasm hurtling through your body. One hand came down and he shoved three fingers into your tight hole, crooking his fingers up into that one spot as he pistoned them in and out.
Your body felt like it was burning with pleasure, wails of your pleasure barely reaching your own ears as you were lost in the heat of desire and lust. Your hand gripped his hair, attempting to ground yourself as your peak quickly approached. Your second mind-blowing orgasm wracked through your body, clenching your muscles and dispersing any thoughts in your mind. You felt Luffy's expanded tongue fuck into your pussy, feeling your orgasm as you clamped down and creamed on him.
He only stopped his assault when your shaking had paused, and you were tapping his head. He still had his tongue hanging out, slurping up your cream and juices. You briefly realized you would normally be embarrassed, but the sight only turned you on more.
"Such good cream, kitty. Are you ready for me to play with you some more?" He crawled over your body, straddling you before kissing you messily. You tasted yourself on him, slightly sour, as he licked desperately into your mouth. He pulled away, reaching to stroke his weeping cock, reddened at the brown tip. You moaned at the sight.
"Lemme fuck you then. Face down, ass up, Kitten~" he cooed in your ear before pushing back to stand over you on the couch. You stared at him, backlit by the lighting. He looked angelic. Soft black hair, wide eyes heavily lidded with lust and command, and his muscles were highlighted beautifully. The command took control over your body quickly, and you flipped over, burrowing your face into the cushion as you arched your back sinfully. Your tail flicked over your back, baring your hole as you reached back and spread your ass for his view. You heard him hiss out a shaky breath as he knelt behind you.
"God so perfect" He didn't seem to realize he said that out loud, but you shivered in delight at the words, arching your back a little more for him. He tapped his thick cock on your ass before sliding it down to just between the apex of your thighs. It dragged almost painfully slowly against your sensitive clit, wetting the length with your spend and slick.
"You know the system baby. Let me know if you need me to stop"
You only mewled in reply, shaking your hips slightly. He grunted with the slight friction, removing your hands from you ass cheeks to spread them himself. He gently put in the tip, and you had to hold your breath against an orgasm just from that. He must have picked up on how close you were, because he slammed the rest of his length in harshly, one hand putting weight on your lower back to keep it arched for him as you shook apart, creaming on his cock again.
"Good girl, there ya go. So sensitive today, huh? Cock hungry lil kitty. I'll give ya what you want, don't worry." His voice made it sound like he was completely lost to the pleasure- breathy and gravely. The words and his voice washed over you like a refreshing breath of air after the intensity of your orgasm. He began pounding you, cock dragging from the base to the head before slamming back in harshly. You screamed wordlessly, drooling onto the cushion as he fucked you.
He grunted and was breathing heavily, the sounds music to your ears as they joined your wails and the lewd slapping of skin on skin. He was so deep, hitting your cervix with every stroke. The ache only added to your growing pleasure.
"Sh-shit! I won't last much longer. So w-wet and tight. Fuck!" His arm wrapped around your chest, hand reaching up to your neck. He pulled you upright, back still arched away from his chest. Your arms found his hair as your pussy was pounded from behind. He could see your tits jiggling with his thrusts, joining the shaking of your ass cheeks. The sight made him drool, and he couldn't help but mark your neck. He nibbled and suckled, not losing his rhythm. The attention paid to your neck made you moan loudly. You could hardly form words to say you were going to cum, and it slammed into you before you could find the breath to speak. The sudden pressure around his cock was too much, and he spilled inside with a heavy groan as he bit the junction between your neck and shoulder.
He pulled you with him as he collapsed backwards on the couch, catching his breath. His dick slid out, and you whined at the loss. You wanted to keep it in so bad. His seed shouldn't be wasted.
You straddled him on shaky legs, and he rested his hands on your hips. You frowned at him with watery eyes, and he blinked at you, concerned. His hands gently traced lines up and down your sides.
"What is it baby? Are you hurt?"
You shook your head, overwhelmed and close to tears.
"Wanna.. wanna keep it in" you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. A smile of relief broke over his face.
"Of course. Lemme fill you back up, okay?" he said gently. You felt his cock twitching back to life and he used his powers to inflate it, and you sunk back down on it with a happy sigh. He jerked and grunted at the sensation.
"C'mere" He pulled you to his chest, and you basked in the afterglow, sweaty bodies sticking slightly.
"You feelin' any better?"
"A little. But I still want to be bred. I want you to fuck me so full of your cum we're not sure my birth control can handle it. Please? Breed me?"
You felt his heartrate increasing at your lewd and desperate words. His hand trailed up your back, accidently brushing against the base of your tail. You jerked and let out a surprised moan. A mischievous, handsome grin curved his lips at your reaction. You were starting to feel the heat swirling low in your gut again.
"I think I can do somethin with that. Gotta make ya happy, right kitty?"
You nodded empathetically.
"Yes, captain."
His eyes darkened, and you knew you were in for it now.
#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#one piece#one piece smut#luffy x reader#one piece luffy#luffy smut#luffy x y/n#luffy x you#neko reader#kitten kink#captain kink
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playing dangerous
rookie ! leon kennedy x female reader
summary: you catch leon in between the most riveting compromise possible. as he leans towards human combustion and embarrassment, you catch onto the opportunity to show how much you didn’t mind at all. or in which you help leon in the back of his cop car.
warning: nsfw under cut, m4sturbation, reader basically helps leon out :)
a/n: woah another qvrcll leon fic, quick whoever is surprised raise ur hand!! no seriously, i need this man sooo bad, its no longer a joke help… this filthy indulgence is a result of playing dangerous by lana del rey, enjoy :)
Leon felt the stinging press of his restrains weigh down on his consciousness. He thought he’d remained implicit with his decision — to try not to think of you when the days are too funereal and held too many blinkered thoughts. He’d thought and thought and thought… and finally, he’d snuck a hand down the tight fabric of his jeans, amassing the thick swell of pre-cum from the head of his dick across its length. Finally sighing in content at the thought of having himself in the tight space of his car.
He had secretly retreated into his reserved cop car and decided to indulge with the memory of you in the back seat.
Until, ofcourse, he was so rashly interrupted.
“Hey, Leon—“ your voice had emerged from the seat beside him, as you perched across from it with a dry sigh. Only when you had processed that the officer’s hand was halfway down his pants, did you feel yourself cram with the feeling of surprise. Shame? There was really none, when your friend looked like a deer caught in headlights.
“Fuck—shit—“ his hand flung out his pants, cheeks heavy with a reddish tinge and his demeanour defiled with the shame of being caught fisting his dick. In all honestly, he carried that shame along with the fact that he had thought of you with every stroke and grab of his dick. And now, you were here, expression clouded with perplexity.
The way he had wanted to escape. “I’m so sorry—I—I can leave—“
“Wait—Leon…” an armed restrained him. His skin was hot with shame and thoughts of you. You simpered, melting into the seat — you could work with this.
He looked puzzled and humiliated, opting to stare at the floor. We can’t have that, now, can we?
“Look at me,” you whispered, not admonishing at all. But he still quivered, meeting your lax, riveted eyes with shaking cobalt ones of his own. Baby blue and shaken, how cute.
“Oh, baby, don’t be sad,” you cooed, shuffling closer. He looked surprised and you loved it — his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when you bunched up the fabric of his pants, flukily making out an outline of his dick, still hard and aching through it, “want me to take care of that?”
He resorted to a meek nod, his mind a collusion between is this really happening and is this alright and fuck it, I need you’s until it all resulted in a mush.
“Words, baby. Use your words,” your hands stroked his inner, clothed thigh, skirting around his hardening length on purpose. He’d whined then, low and keen but so good, it sent a jolt up your spine.
“Please… Need you so bad… please touch me…” his words had come out strangled in a way but still touched you, in a freakish way. You’d donned it holy in a way, he’d professed his cruel need for you — and you were intent on giving it to him in the back of his cop car.
“Good boy,” you’d whispered against his earlobe, taking the flesh into your mouth. As your hands reached to discard of his pants, you’d grabbed and stroked his entire, weeping length till it rang cries from him, deep within.
“Agh—angh—please… please keep going—fuck—“ he stuttered.
You smiled, sickly sweet, and clasped harder as your hands ran a deep assault down his length, fleshing his orgasm out in hot, thick spurts of cum against his cop uniform.
And as he calmed down, breathing heavily, breath caught between his teeth, he felt you smile into his eyes. His cheeks hurt then, from smiling, intent on pouring his heart to you, boyish in a way that smoothed all the possible creases and stuff of the nervous past — until your fingers brushed the budging vein on his dick, springing him with a defeated whine.
“It’s not over yet, sweet boy” you bit the words past your swollen lips, and his soul crested as you sank amid his trembling thighs.
© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#re2r leon x reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil fic#leon kennedy fic#leon x reader#leon kennedy x reader fic
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JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 1
Warnings:
- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.
Premise:
Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 12 chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)
Ch/gang guide: so basically in like 2026
You - 27
Rika: 25
Roymen: Zenin: Gojo:
- SUKUNA (39), TOJI (47), GOJO (37),
- Yuuji (24), Megumi (24), Utahime (39),
- Choso (30), Maki (25), Shoko (39),
- Kamo (27), Mai (25), Ijichii (35),
- Todo (27), Momo (26), Nanami (36),
- Yuki (34), Nobara (24), Yuta (25),
- Geto (36), Panda (25) Hakari (27),
- Mimiko (22), Miwa (26), Kirara (27),
- Nanako (22) Toge (26), Kokichi (25),
“No way I’m sleeping for dinner tonight.” You stuffed your hair in a beanie and threw your hood over your eyes. Your smaller frame makes you easier to be dismissed as teenager, people just thinking you’re just an emo on their occasional stroll through the city, it was the perfect excuse they made up for you. Running into them, “stupid brat”, or just swiftly taking something passing it off as youre asking for directions. That was when you were just practicing; right now, you had to use those skills again. The bustling city really tones itself down when the third clan moved in.
No one knows where they came from, but they’re worse than the Zenin Gang. The Gojo Gang was supposed to be there to even them out but with the Ryomen gang, everyone was so scare of them that half the population started to stay inside, that’s what it seemed.
“Lucky.” Some dumbass just entered your alley to take a phone call. Knowing your size you’d be apprehended immediately, but if it’s one person, you could quickly snatch something and you’d be living like a king once again (until the next poor soul comes across your path.) You just didn’t find the use in a job, being stuck in this world that would use you just for being born, you wanted to prove it wrong.
You toss your trash and start walking towards this figure, making it seem like you were just passing them. They ignore you and you smile because this is the perfect time to “Oof!”
You smack into the man in the alley and you get knocked on your ass. The man stands tall and barely moves. “Call me back in 5 minutes.”
The man hangs up his phone and looks down at you. “All this space in this alley and you run into me? Really? You don’t think it’s obvious what you’re trying to do kid?”
You’ve never had a confrontation like this before. What the hell, how did he stand so still, it was like running into a wall. “He’s got me figured out, guess i’ll just return his wallet while he still thinks i’m a kid.”
You reach into your jacket and he grabs your arm. “Are you trying to retrurn this to me?” He pulls out his wallet, you thought you grabbed that? Did he take it back at the last second? Did you never take it? “Or are you finding a weapon. Do you need it that badly that you’ll go up against me?”
“I don’t know you.” You answer. You want to run away but he couches down to you, making you face him. “I don’t blame you.” He grabs at your hat and hood, taking them off, along with your giant jacket.
“Oh? I wouldn’t have noticed you were a bitch.” He was being rough, or maybe it was gentle for him, but this was fucked, you had to leave, now. You try to get up but he grabs your shoulder, keeping you down with him.
“What do you want? Jut let me go.” He’s gotta have other plans if he didn’t want to be bothered.
He laughs like that was funny. “Let you go? You knocked into /me/. It was your whole idea to get involved.”
You didn’t know what do to, he was making shit up now. He tried to lean close but you moved back. I like that. He moves in again and you grit your teeth and try to hit him. He punches you in the stomach so hard you stop breathing for a second. It was awful, god what the fuck was he gonna kill you? That’s too far for stealing a wallet.
“Remember what Ive been saying?”
You heave over yourself.
“I’ll just train you better, your reaction is quite nice.“
His phone rings as you try to collect yourself.You could barely move, much less drag yourself to sit up against the wall. Every breath of life was agonizing.
“Yeah, perfect timing, yeah I was just teaching this bitch a lesson. Tried to steal my wallet just now. Ballsy.” He says while looking down at you.
Holy fucking shit you were in fear. Your legs couldn’t move if you tried. You just knew he was dangerous if this was normal for him.
You shrink down yourself down to minimize the pain barely anything came up but still you were heaving.
He comes over and stomps on you while listening in on the phone. His large boot putting pressure between your legs.
Were you enjoying this? The strange man just won’t stop grinding himself in the right spot, the pain subsided and you looked like a breathless messy pervert on the street.
“Hey are you paying attention?!” The person on the phone almost yelled out.
“Ill call you back.”
He stopped the pressure when you started to squirm and humor yourself into his boot. He lifts you up in with one arm.
He looks at you with cold eyes. “You’re fucked up.”
“You-you” You breathed through hungry breaths.
“Wow, okay.” He rolls his eyes and grabs at you. “Lets see if you can handle me then.”
“That’s not what i meant!” You tried to back yourself away from him when he grabs at your face and wipes it off, looking around for something. There’s a corner past the other end of the alley, and he drags you there, bending you over the wall.
“Is this all you want?” You spit out.
“You’re so nonchalant about this.”
“Being out here this long, it’s bound to happen.” Life on the street, this is the reason why you had to cover up you were a woman. It didn’t help that you looked smaller, easier if anything. It wasn’t anything new for survival.
“They told me I was great, couldn’t even last 2 minutes.“
“Then you shouldn’t be worried” He whips it out.
Your stomach dropped. “What the fuck wait-“
He spits on his tip only and angles it down, centering where your cervix may be. He thrusts in, tearing your walls apart, you scream out loud and he punches you in the back of the head, almost making you black out for a second.
“Shhhh oooh wow you are great,” He grunts as you still find space for him. “But can you survive me?”
Your head hurt, your legs hurt, you can’t do much but go limp and bear it. He was ruining you. His dick make your legs go numb, they just hit you so hard deep inside that you feel the shock in your face and toes with each assault.
All you could do was manage your breathing through this, holy shit this was something else. He grabs your neck with his forearm, choking you while pulling him closer to him, going even deeper, making you cry.
“Aw does this hurt?” He whispers in your ear.
“F-Fuck you.”
He chuckled. “You started squeezing me each time you hear my voice, are you that easy to train?”
You let out another cry and hit the wall with your fist, trying to redirect some of the pain. He stays in you and grinds into you, he’s just trying to make u cum to humiliate you.
He reaches around and kisses at your neck and drops you up and down on him. The rhythm is making you go insane and it feels like he has so many hands with he way he keeps everywhere occupied.
You cum so hard you actually squirt, wait did you? You’ve never done that before so truthfully it was as embarrassing as it was shocking. You couldn’t stop shaking from your core.
“Jesus, I’m gonna need new pants.” You cling to the wall, face tingling, you couldn’t even try out your legs, it was out of the question. You let yourself start to feel, shaking as a wave of emotions creep toward you as you hoped to be left alone in the alley, but he surprises you. “C’mon we’re going home.”
He grabs at you, picking your tired, half naked body up. You wanted to thrash and be freed, but if you risk kicking at his head, you might as well be begging to eat the curb. Before you know it you’re stuffed into a tinted out car in the barren street.
Avoiding eye contact, you sat still in the middle of the packed car. One of them had the decency to give you their jacket to cover yourself up with, but you couldn’t stop the smell, you smelled like and looked like sex. You were just happy it was over, though haven’t you heard this before, ‘Never let them bring you to a second location?” You were about to freak out again until the person next to you grabbed your arms and blindfolded you.
—————-
They drag you out the car and have you follow them for what felt like the longest few minutes of your life. You find your senses quickly, the blindfold was taken off and you were somewhat free again. “Here.” Your escorts pushed you into the room.
You’ve been brought to where it looked like these two girls were waiting to clean you up. Without saying much, they get to work.
At it for a good half hour, most of your injuries were treated. They keep you awake in case you have a concussion.
“You two leave.” Your captor entered the room.
“But her head-“
“I was the one who gave her the injury, I know how hard I hit her. Now leave before I decide to cut alliances with your father, and take you two along with this pitiful bitch.”
The girls hold their breath and take nothing with them, leaving you two alone. When you’re not in a u Jed away spot in the street together, he actually started to look larger by comparison. Do you really think you could’ve taken him on?
What was there to say? What was he going to do to you? Did that matter anymore? You hold onto your belly, tracing over the bruises he left, not being able to stomach another hit from him in your current condition. The large man walks over to your bed.
Towering over you, admiring his work, “I came back only because you didn’t satisfy me. I mean I make you a squirting mess and you mess up my pants? That doesn’t sound fair does it?”
“Who are you?” You don’t dare to move or the ache will start again. “How do you have all this power?”
He sounded amused. “You still haven’t figured it out yet? Or did I hit you too hard.” He flicks your forehead.
“Seriously!”
You’re sure of it, there’s no way someone like you would’ve ever met anyone from the top 3. You had no business with them, you stayed out of their business and locations. “My name is Sukuna.”
As the thoughts crossed your mind, he takes ur blanket off and sees you all cleaned up, of course, still bruised and swollen from just before.
Tearing off the blanket, immediately ripping apart the robes and cloths that covered you, he exposes you and keeps your legs spread. No warning, he just dives right in. You’re taken aback by the sudden collision. His tongue dances around your sex before he starts lapping you up. His flattened tongue grazing your clit then sucking at it had your whole body reacting.
He picked your legs up to get a better angle. His hot mouth felt like it was melting into you. It wasn’t long before he brought you to orgasm again, but just with his mouth. It wasn’t enough for him, he needed more.
Stuffing a few fingers into you, he doesn’t stop and continues working on your clit with his tongue again. Barely giving you time to recover from the sensitivity, you jolted more as he picked up his pacing, barely able to hold back screams.
Riding out your second orgasm into his hand, he looks down amused. “I needed to relieved some stress today, maybe the gods are finally listening to me. But was it luck? Fate? Hm…”
What is he talking about, weren’t you the one with semi brain damage?
The high leaves your body, though you could still feel it in you face. Sukuna takes his digits out of you and picks you up by the face. His other hand unsheatheding himself from his robes.
His erection was terrifying. Seeing it again made your body ache and you were screaming, at least you would if you found the strength but it was beat out of you, before, and now.
You couldnt stand for a second you thought his scar and tattooed decorated body was beautiful. That jawline, his dark features softened by his pink hair, and this distinguishing look in his eyes. Though cruel and harsh, scary like him, there was something else there. Not that you had time to look.
His cruelty brings you back. Shoving you full of his cock, rutting his hips in deeper every chance you think he’s done, he digs deeper. As he sits upright, he has gravity do most of the work. Putting his hands on the small of your back, using that to push you down further onto him. You were getting uncomfortable with this cock warming.
He was just digging holes into you now. Almost bored, watching your legs cringe at every grind. Your face contorting with pain and relief from moves only he’ll allow. He’s enjoying himself enough to almost forget that this was just a pit stop.
“Make me cum and I’ll go.” He says.
Through the pain, unable to ignore him, you ask, “What?”
“You heard me. If I’m late I can just skip my meetings and punish you for the rest of the day.” He threatened.
You pick yourself up with your thighs on top of his, the adjustment made it feel bigger, you were uncomfortable but you knew that it would be tighter from this angle. You’re trembling as your arms are weak yet they were pushing your body up onto his.
He looks down a bit amused. “Do you need some help?” Without waiting he puts his hands under your arms and pick you up, finally angling it right and dropping you down, his head hitting into your cervix.
“Mmm- Ahhh!” Youd cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck to better manage your weight. If you let go he’d break you, you held yourself up as much as you could but Sukuna doesn’t really like a clingy partner. He rips one arm off his neck and uses that hold to maneuver you above him.
“Hhhh! Hhhhahh….” Your short screams had become gasps and sighs, getting sweeter as he kept a rhythm. He grabs at your neck and face, pushing you to face him and you just kiss him violently back.
Pushing your chest onto his, feeling his blood rush as you can only manage to smother his face with sloppy kisses.
With this, he takes that as the go to and puts you back on your back, bending your knees up and makes your face go numb. Without a warning he slaps you so hard you almost rag doll. He laughs at you again, and pulls out, making a sloshing sound.
Almost embarrassed because of the noises you were making without him, he flips you over and shoves your face into the pillow. He slaps you ass hard, your scream silences as he pushes you further in the bed with his dick. He doesn’t stop, this feeling was deeper than you felt before, it was breaking you now.
“What’s my name bitch?” He’s gasping out.
“SUK-“ He slaps your ass. “SUH aH-“ He grabs stir, not letting you finish as he starts to relentlessly buck into you. “AHHH! SUKUNA!” You cry.
The pain and numbness; pleasure and confusion were all messing with your senses. Your cries were like melody to his ears, so much so he decided to choke you from behind. Your gasps and pathetic grunts desperately trying to get your brain some air, it drove him crazy.
He growls and grinds into you as he lays all his weight on you, like he claimed ownership. He’s so deep in you you couldn’t breathe and now you could feel it. He was twitching inside you, and something hot was spreading from inside. This was insane, with the weight, the asphyxiation, it was so much and oh-
Your body tensed up, toes curled and your fingers clenching onto whatever sheets and skin you could find at the moment. He dug his head and bit into your sweet spot. Sukuna’s arm that grabbed your neck, traveled to your womb, lifting you further into him as you came onto his still twitching cock.
“You didn’t do much this time,” He holds you on top of him still as he skewers through you, “but I can forgive you. Rest.” Sukuna stands up and lets you slip off of him, back into the bed weak as ever. He puts his robe back on and looks down at you from the bed. You couldn’t care, you’re just tired from the most unexpected few hours you’ve ever lived through. It wasn’t so much crazy as it was weird.
Dusting himself off, fixing the details of his new outfit, he stands up to leave. You watch as he carries himself with such a highly regard, you can’t help but rethink his status. He opens the door, to your surprise he speaks to someone.
“I told you I wouldn’t need long.” He says to the people outside. Were they there the whole time? What the hell was going on anymore. Was life as you knew it over? If you weren’t already, you were SO fucked.
“When the girls are done shopping tell them to clean her up, again.”
———————————
I hope this is good I’ll prob reread it and rewrite it but here take it TAKE IT// I’ll be working on movie night w the boys next 😈
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#tw#jjk#dark jjk#jjk x you#tw dark content#ryomen sukuna#itadori yuuji#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#todo Aoi#Choso Kamo#kamo noritoshi#yuta okkotsu#yuta x reader#toge x reader#inumaki toge#nobara kugisaki#maki zenin x reader#maki Zenin#toji fushiguro#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#geto suguru#taaotjjk#taaottw
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Writers gift: How would Midoriya, Bakugou and Shoto feel if their darling rejected them?
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, stalking, mentions of abduction
Rejection
Izuku Midoriya
💚Who could have known that a few so simple words could shatter a hero such as Deku as easily as they did? Months of planning, of careful observation, of preparing have gone into this one day. The day where Midoriya finally decided to confess, to do the first step within the excessive plan of the future he has basically already written down for you two. Yet all you had to do was turn him down as gently as you could to crush his heart. The slightly shy and flustered smile and the blush decorating his cheeks slowly leave his face as his eyes widen in shock, staring at you as if expecting you to tell him that you’re just joking whilst his mind has a hard time processing what you just said. This isn’t what he had planned! Why are you rejecting him?! You two were meant to be soulmates!
💚A few seconds of suffocating silence where you clearly grow uncomfortable, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and carefully observing Izuku. As soon as the information has finally pushed through Midoriya’s delusions, the shocked look on his face turns into one of utter heartbreak and sorrow, causing you to feel a bit guilty. Tears start dropping down within a matter of seconds, the hands that had previously held a bouquet of your favorite flowers start to shake, dropping the gift of love in the process as you’re left standing there with a man who’s crying his eyes out in front of you.
💚You’re standing there frozen, panicking because you don’t know what you could possibly say or do to comfort Izuku. But just as you’re about to attempt to pat his back, something inside Deku seems to snap. He reaches out to hold both of your hands in his one shaking ones, teary eyes staring with a broken glimmer inside of them into your own as another smile appears on his face. A smile laced with desperation, with utter denial. He suddenly starts talking fast with a shaking voice that he completely understands. You poor sweetheart probably just don’t know how to respond to his confession. You’ve never been in a real relationship before after all! That’s it! You’re just a bit overwhelmed right now!
💚It sounds like he’s talking primarily to himself right now to convince himself and you alongside the way too. The shift in his behavior gives you a bad feeling yet when you try to free your hands, Deku only tightens his hold. You don’t have to be scared nor shy right now! He knows how nervous you’re right now but you don’t have to be frightened at all. You two were meant to be together after all, you just don’t know it yet. Now you’re the one who starts to shake as the clearly delusional boy pulls you even closer until you’re in his arms, starts rubbing your back when he notices your trembling form whilst his mind continues denying the truth. There’s no running now, sweetheart, for everything you might try to do to get him back to his senses will only end in stronger denial from Midoriya’s side.
Katsuki Bakugou
💥You can only blink confused at Bakugou for a few moments, doubting what you’ve just heard? Did he just admit that he likes you? Did Katsuki Bakugou just confess to you?! Your clearly puzzled expression and the silence after his confession quickly cause the blonde male to grow impatient as his jittery nerves get the better of him. He hates to admit it to himself right now but he’s nervous right now. He snaps as mildly as he can at you, reminding you that you need to give him an answer. His voice brings you out of your dazed state yet the first question you have to ask him is if he’s being honest with you right now.
💥A short flicker of annoyance crosses Katsuki’s face before he lets out a huff, hand scratching the back of his neck as he grumbles that he wouldn’t bother to be here if he wouldn’t really mean it. You notice how he averts your eyes for a short moment when admitting his feelings once more, a slight dust of pink on his face before his gaze meets yours again. You notice the hint of nervousness inside of his eyes and with that the situation you find yourself in suddenly comes crashing down on you, leaving you feeling helpless. You know Katsuki’s temper so you try to think desperately of a way to offend him as little as possible. However, Bakugou is no idiot to the panic flashing across your face or how your eyes dart to the ground, brainstorming how to get out of this situation.
💥When he asks you if you can’t answer him because you want to reject him but are afraid of his reaction, you feel like a deer in headlights. The scared look you give him when you look up is more than enough to answer his question. His face twists with the emotions of heartbreak and even betrayal, a short view of emotional vulnerability that has you feeling sorry for a few moments. That’s before an angry scowl masks any of his pain and a scoff leaves his lips, red eyes glaring at you and making you feel small. You flinch when he starts raising his voice against you, almost shouting at you, and calling you a loser and waste of his time before turning around and storming away, teeth gritting against each other and fists clenched to suppress the emotions piling up inside of him and threatening to overwhelm him.
💥He lets out his feelings the only way he knows in the end though, which is anger. A few trash bins have to suffer immeasurable damage on his way away from you, the source of his current pain. You’ve hurt Katsuki’s pride with your rejection. You notice at times his red eyes glaring at you as he holds a grudge now, although he does now that his anger is partially just irrational. He can’t help it though as his possessive side gets fired up, leading him to acting aggressive and threatening people around you. You start feeling more and more terrified of him and honestly, I can’t blame you. At this rate it’s only a question of time until you find yourself imprisoned by his possessive love and hurt pride.
Shoto Todoroki
🔥❄️You don’t even know what you were expecting when Shoto Todoroki approached you earlier the day and asked you if he could talk to you later on privately. You would have honestly rather heard anything else than hearing him mumbling with a hint of nervousness and a stiff and awkward body that he has developed feelings for you and that he wants to have a relationship with you. All thoughts are silenced for a moment inside your head as you stare at him with eyes blown wide open, reflecting your disbelief. He eventually meets your own gaze, his stoic expression not giving any of the feelings away. If it wouldn’t be for his tense body and the scared glimmer in his eyes, you probably would have no idea what he’s feeling right now.
🔥❄️Already you can feel the jabs of guilt in your heart though as you already know what your answer will be. Knowing his terrible childhood though makes it not easier for you to tell him that you don’t feel the same as he does. You choose every word you tell him carefully, trying your best to avoid him any heartbreak as good as you can and hopefully prevent any negative feelings between you two afterwards. His stoic face cracks when he listens to your words and gets to know that you don’t feel the same way, a shaken up look taking over his face. He suddenly can’t bear looking at you any longer, head hanging low and his eyes hiding behind his two-colored hair.
🔥❄️You leave him standing there all by himself, with his head looking down, his fist clenched and his body slightly trembling. You think you’d only rub more salt in his fresh wound if you were to stay. Whilst you turn your back on him, Shoto suffers from a silent breakdown though, his heart screaming with the pain you just put it through. He starts hyperventilating slightly, his fast heartbeat is ringing inside his ears and his vision gets blurry as a wet film starts covering his eyes. When he finally looks after your form, all his emotions are perfectly shown on his face yet you don’t even turn around. You’re walking away from him. You’re leaving him. Don’t leave him! He’s chasing after you as soon as that thought hits him.
🔥❄️You only notice when you hear the footsteps behind you and turn around, his hand grabbing your arm and yanking you back slightly almost at the same time. Words die out on your tongue when you see his face, desperation and fear written all over it whilst his hands are clutching the material of your jacket tightly. Both of you just stand like this in silence, until realization flashes Shoto’s eyes and he snaps out of whatever just overcame him. He lets go of your jacket and mutters an apology before he turns around and walks away from you, eyes fixed the entire time on the ground. Be warned though that mismatched eyes are always watching you now, that his presence is always hiding somewhere around you. Do you want to bet how long it takes him until his desperation and pain pushes him into sweet delusions and the end of your freedom?
#yandere my hero academia#yandere mha#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere bnha#yandere midoriya#yandere izuku midoriya#yandere deku#yandere bakugou#yandere katsuki bakugou#yandere shoto#yandere shoto todoroki
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