#I need to stop myself for over sharing about this bastard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chokepoet · 9 months

Text

Cruelty & Empathy 18+

gif by @romulussy

Summary | A night alone in the office has Roman and his assistant escalating their tension past a point of no return. The aftermath of which leads to confessions that will change the trajectory of their relationship forever.

Genre | Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot

Content | anxiety, biting, blood, bondage, choking, crying, dom/sub tones, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of past physical abuse, power struggles, thigh riding, sadomasochism, slapping, spitting

Word Count | 8.5k

A/N: Y’all this fic is fuckin’ filthyyyy… but like in a romantic way??? I wasn’t going to share it but my best friend insisted. If y’all hate this I volunteer as tribute for boar on the floor lmao

Roman Roy’s Office | 10:33 pm

He was sprawled out across the couch as if this were his family’s private estate. It might as well have been. The building’s climate control always seemed to be blowing a peculiar air. One that felt like his father breathing down the back of his neck at all times. Left calf draped over the backrest, right hand cradling a whiskey, and head tilted back over the armrest. His once-slick hair now hung limp, with loose strands reaching for the carpet below. His upside-down gaze willed me to stop my attempts at meeting our deadline and to focus solely on him instead.

My bank account's dwindling had my morals emaciated. They’d weakly played tug of war with my last braincell when I'd accepted Roman’s job offer nearly two years prior. About 6 months into being his assistant, I found myself earning another role: his best friend. His only friend. My typing picks up speed as I contemplate what level of fucked-up I had to be in order to actually enjoy this job. I decide it must have been top-tier when my thoughts drift to the one Roy that had me feeling this way.

In the past 22 months, I came to understand Roman better than anyone else ever had. He somehow wormed his way into gaining just as much insight into me as well. It made me feel strangely protective over him. Oddly enough, he seemed to reciprocate. We still rarely aloud ourselves vulnerability in the presence of the other. We much preferred self-immolation. I don’t think he ever intended to grow so attached to me. He certainly would never admit to it. If you had asked me if the feeling was mutual, I’d lie through my teeth.

I loved him madly.

I don’t exactly know when or how it happened. I do, however, vividly remember when I first realized he held something soft for me.

Siena, Italy | 4:21 am

He was drunk off his ass, his head resting on my shoulder. He had been leaning into my frame for support long before he even needed it. Roman mumbled something about liking me because I was the only “sad sack of shit” in the office who could make him laugh. I asked him why I was a sad sack and not just a regular sack. He blew out a huff of air, causing his lips to trill. The sound was quickly preceded by the flipping of his wrists in a few circles.

“Isn't it obvious?” I nudged my shoulder against his head.

“Because I work for your sorry ass?”

He clumsily tapped the tip of my nose with his right pointer finger, nearly blinded my left eye in the process.

“Bingo, bongo, banjo.” The nonsensical words tumbled out and the rest of his drink tumbled in. “Itstheeyes.” I’d been unable to make out the slurred syllables mumbled just under his breath. For all I knew, they could’ve been Latin for ‘bastard’.

“What?” He dropped his now-empty glass into a historic fountain as we passed. I stopped to try and fish it out, but he dragged me away. I remember wondering if he had made a wish on it in his drunken haze. Rich and careless enough to pretend it was a penny. Maybe that had been why he was so adamant about me not retrieving it. My mind wandered as I pondered what Roman could have possibly wished for. His father's approval? An endless supply of luxurious Korean face creams? A pair of stunning Italian supermodels to lean into instead of me?

Tripping over his own two feet, I instinctively gripped his bicep. Stubborn as ever, he shoved me and muttered something along the lines of 'fuck off'. God forbid he’d take my help. Throwing my hands up, I left him to walk alone a few steps ahead of me. He weaved for a while before slowing his pace until he could lay his head back on my shoulder.

A beat passed, where the only sound was the soft crunch of our shoes against the weathered cobblestone. I caught one of his bleary eyes peeking over at my face. Content with whatever it was he found, he nodded to himself.

“Yep.” He popped his lips on the 'p' and absentmindedly kicked a pebble from our path. “It's the eyes. Sad sack of shit eyes. You've got 'em.” The laugh that had left me seemed much too loud as it ricocheted off every crumbling brick ahead of us. Roman smiled proudly for a moment. “I love your laugh.” The words were said mostly to himself. My cheeks warmed considerably.

“Really? It's obnoxious as all hell.” His brows furrowed, and he shook his head.

“No, it's fuckin’—fuck off. No, it's not.” He kicked another stone. “It's pretty. Pretty like… like your face.” Pretty. “Nothin’ like a hyena.” Hyena? “I think I'm gonna puke.”

He did.

Roman’s Office | 10:47 pm

“Hi.” A small voice lounging across from me pulls my attention. I look up from the computer and rest my head in my hand, my elbow propped on his desk.

“Hi.” I smile softly with a raised brow.“Need somethin’?” The grin that breaks across his features is almost childlike. His big brown eyes could even be mistaken for innocent; I knew better.

“As a matter of fact…” Extremely happy to have garnered my attention, he pulls himself to a sitting position. “Yes!” With a swift motion, he slams his whiskey onto the coffee table. The sharp sound of glass on glass reverberates throughout the room.

“Yes?”

“Yes?” His voice drops into a cartoonish impersonation of my own. His hand was still clasped around his drink for some reason. Flipping his face up to me with a saccharine simper, he adds, “Will you kindly suck my cock?”

“Will you kindly go fuck yourself?” My impression of him was just as cartoonish as his of me. The hand holding my head returns to typing. Groaning loudly, he lets go of his glass to dramatically fall back into the couch.

“Will you? ‘Cause I’m fuckin’ bored!” He drags out his words until they turn to whine. “This is fucking boring. Aren’t you bored?”

“Yes, you’re extremely boring.”

“Hurr-hurr.” He mocks while crinkling his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m anything but and am widely known as delightful company.” A snort escapes my nose and Roman smiles.

“Really? I thought you were widely known as a terrible person.” He rolls his eyes as I quote his cousin.

“Yeah, yeah fuck you.” He gives me the finger. I flip him off in return. “The fuck does Nosferatu fuckin’ know anyways?” The nickname makes me chuckle and has Roman mimicking Greg. “Oh, I—I couldn’t help but—couldn’t help but notice that my gargantuan height may be alarm—alarming the schoolchildren. I—is that why Iverson is um c—crying? Or is he like, I—I mean, is he… y—ya know… special?”

The laughter still bubbled up uncontrollably even as I tried maintaining focus on the task at hand. My passive interest towards Roman was annoying him to no end.

“Come on! I want entertainment! Entertain me, woman!” I roll my eyes. A cinnamon tinted stare was steady burning apertures into my features, willing me to stop ignoring him. “Come—Come on…” His hands outstretch in my direction, middle and index finger beckoning quickly. “Come show big daddy watcha got.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, my typing stops and I fully turn my attention towards him. His face contorts in a grimace already knowing what was to come. My brows raise as I slowly repeat his words back to him.

“Come show big daddy what I got?” Roman’s hands drag down his face and he groans loudly as soon as big leaves my mouth.

“Oh, fuck y—shut the fuck up.” He sinks lower into the couch with high hopes of it swallowing him whole. The smile that breaks across my features is downright malevolent. I couldn’t recall having ever seen him this embarrassed. Surprising, considering all the lewd shit he spews at me daily. There was something sick inside me that enjoyed it. The urge to play cat rather than mouse overtakes me.

“No, no, no. I just want to understand you clearly, Mr. Roy.” Our dynamic had never been much of a professional one. I couldn’t recall the last time I had addressed him so formally but I wanted to really get under his skin. Oddly enjoying my place in its prickled embrace. Rising from my chair, I place both palms on the desk and lean forward with a pout. “Are you saying you wanna shut me up with your cock, big daddy?”

“I’m going to fucking kill myself.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Aw! Weawwy, Daddy? Jus' 'cause I won't suwck yo big thick cock?” At that, a cushion flies towards my head. I narrowly catch it as I’m doubling over in laughter. He’s standing now, hands overtly animated.

“I swear to GOD, I’m going to fucking—fuck! Fuck you! Out the window!” He’s angrily pointing towards the giant window panes beside him. “I’m going to throw you out the fucking window!”

“Oh wow, you’re gonna fuck me out the window?” His face was the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen it.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear to Christ I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” I was doing a piss-poor job at stifling my laughter.

“I just fucking told you. Ass through glass.” He dismissively waves a hand in the air.

“Bullshit.” Finally looking at me, I cross my arms. His eyes flicker to my chest. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Are you saying I don’t have the balls to murder you?” The words come out in a bemused laugh. “I could murder the fuckin’—murder the shit out of you. Easily.”

“Okay.” With a shrug of my shoulders, I feel a dark coil in the back of my mind start to twist. “Prove it.”

“Prove it? You want me to—to what? Throw you through the goddamn window right now?”

I smirk back at him with a shrug, an inkling I had about him spilling to the forefront of my mind. It colors my vision and stains my tongue. If there was ever a time to find out if my suspicions held true, for some reason, I decided that now was the time. The office was definitely empty at this hour, and the privacy blinds were drawn, so no cameras. Risky as all hell, but if things go south, maybe I could play it off as riffing. I could be quite the convincing liar when I needed to be. My mother saw to that.

“See? I knew it.” With hands on my hips, I tilt my head to size him up. My tone shifts into something silky as sin. “You won’t do shit.” The air begins filling with static causing Roman’s lips to twitch. “You and I both know it. Don’t we…” I slide out from behind the desk, feeling taller as I grow closer. Feeling bolder seeing him swallow. “Romulus?” Using his father’s nickname for him causes his nostrils to flare. A clench in the jaw, a quick exhale. I fucking knew it. “So why don’t you just…” Fully standing in front of him now, I look down with a smirk “sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up for once in your life.”

The air was now overcome with static. Thick and heavy. The subjugated desire etched into his features felt so familiar to me. While I had never seen him this way, or anyone else for that matter, I myself had given that look many a time. That inkling I had was no longer an inkling. It had grown roots that smiled with wicked teeth; I was right.

The electric silence between us started to prick at my skin. My bottom lip twitches as it fought against every instinct to fill the silence with some form of an apology. To try and turn my sudden shift from dominance back into normalcy. His eyes dart to my mouth immediately; he knows.

“Make me.” His head slowly tilts upwards, as do the corners of his lips. The heat that had been slowly brewing between us for well over a year licks up my thighs. He was sneering up at me as we stood toe to toe. His burnt espresso eyes had my mind spiraling in their steam. The look on his face said everything. He saw me, he had me, he called my bluff, he won.

No.

My hand wound itself in the silky hair at the nape of his neck and I use it to jerk his head back. His jaw immediately goes slack. Something akin to a whimper escapes his throat. Surprise has my brows raising and Roman feeling embarrassed. His heavy lids fall and he turns himself away. Reaching up with my free hand, I grip his jaw until he’s facing me once again.

“Look at me.” He does in an instant and I’m flooded by a mixture of emotions. Relief, power, love. I never want to forget how he looks beneath my hands. The way his pupils eclipse the hazel of his eyes. The way his freckles scatter under the pinkish hue of a blush. The way his lips part slightly as his breath shakes out across them. Just as my eyes dance across his every feature, his do mine. Is he etching my features into his own memory?

He attempts to lean forward but I hold him steady. Roman wanted to kiss me but I wanted to tease. I press my lips beside his mouth before trailing them along the smooth path of skin leading to his ear. Sucking his skin into my mouth, I bit gently. A soft sound of content slips from his lips, so I trace up the shell of his ear with my tongue. Upon my return, I bite down once more; harder this time. Just as my teeth release him, the fist tangled in his hair gives a sharp tug. His hum bleeds into a moan that has me squeezing my thighs together. A cool plume of air billows past my lips along the now damp skin; goosebumps erupt immediately. I slide my hand from his jaw until my fingers wrap around his throat to hold him.

“Do you like this, Rome?” The soft whisper has him murmuring his satisfaction. “Come on…” I lightly squeeze his throat. “Be a good boy and use your words.” When I pull away to look at his face, I find his lids are nearly shut.

“Y-yeah.” He swallows in an attempt to steady himself. It doesn’t. “Y-yes, I like it.” He could barely look me in the eyes and it made my stomach flip in the best way possible.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this.” The words slip out before I have the chance to stop them. He inhales sharply, and the air seems to rattle through his skull. His eyes quickly leave mine as his face warms considerably. My heart beats as if it were trying to rip itself from my chest and collide with his. The blood rushing in my ears was chanting 'I love you' over and over again. My teeth dig into my cheek until the taste of blood envelops my tongue. I'm raging a war with my own body in silence. This newfound power was locking talons with my own subjugated nature and death spiraling through the emotion in my chest.

His pulse was racing underneath my thumb. My voice cascades over his flushed skin as I let feather light kisses rain upon him. His first name glides along the tip of his right cheek, his last over the tip of his left. Hovering just out of his reach, I whisper into his open mouth.

“Tell me what you need.” He desperately tries to press his lips into mine but I just pull back. He grunts in frustration.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me already.”

“No.” Releasing my grip, I shove him into the couch. He trips backwards, gracelessly collapsing into the cushions. I climb onto his lap with my knees pressed to either side of his hips. With one hand, I weave my fist around his tie and pull him to me. My other grips his jaw tightly. “You wanna try that again?” His jaw clenches beneath my fingers. His eyes were wild as they flared up at me. Suddenly, his hands lock onto my hips, hard. He pushes his face into my fingers until the tips of our noses bump together.

“I said, just fucking kiss me and I meant do it now.” His words were caught somewhere between a hiss and a growl. He never could handle the word no, so his response shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. The power I’d been holding over him was now leaking through the lace under my skirt. My thighs instinctively flex around him and it has him digging his fingers in harder. A liquid heat spreads through my chest at the thought of later seeing the bruises he was surely leaving behind.

“Well?” My teeth clench and the hand holding his jaw twitches. The attitude lacing his voice drug it’s nails up my spine as I’m reminded of how entitled he could be. He wasn’t supposed to be the one making demands anymore. His smile twitches as a darkness blooms behind his glee. “You wanna hit me don’t you?” My grip loosened; my lungs suddenly feeling like he held them in his fist.

“W-what?” I didn’t want to hit him. Did I? He was selfish, he was arrogant, and he could be so goddamn cruel. Still, the urge to physically harm him was something I had never once encountered. Knowing the history of his childhood and having bared witness to his father’s present day violence against him had made me hyper aware of the constant pain pulsing below his surface. My eyes rapidly blink as they search past his burning stare and into the darkened crevices of his soul.

Oh—he wanted me to hurt him.

His need for it radiating from the blackened pits to scald me. It scared me. It scared me because it felt dark. It felt wrong. But it scared me the most of all because suddenly in this moment, I wanted to. “I-I don’t-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Again, my teeth clench and my grip retightens on his jaw. His smile grew. Mother fucker knew what he was doing. He was basking in it.

He reaches for my hand wound in his tie, quickly unraveling before bringing it to his throat. His own then slide towards my ass. Gripping tightly, he pushes me down against his length to make sure I felt how badly he wanted this. He throbbed against my center; he wanted it bad. “Listen to me. You’re gonna let go of my jaw and you’re gonna fuckin’ slap me, aright?” I nod and release him. “Fuckin’ hit me.” As I draw back my palm, his tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip.

Slap.

My palm makes contact and brushes across his cheek. It was a sad attempt really. Weak. Even though I knew he wanted it, needed it, something inside held me back.

I was still scared of harming him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Come on!” He roughly digs his fingers into my ass, significantly harder than before. “I said fucking slap me!”

Crack.

I slapped him. Hard. His face jerks to the side. My hand stung as it instinctively goes to cover my mouth in shock of myself. His lips twitch before slowly turning up in a demented grin. A bloom of red seeps out from his bottom lip and his tongue slides across it. With the taste of his own blood, his smile widens. He laughs softly to himself and I slowly lower my hand.

“There she is.” His voice low, a rumbling purr. “You fuckin’ bitch.” The hand I had just used to strike instantly flies into the mess of his hair; our lips collide. A groan escapes, but from which of us—I didn’t know. The metallic taste of him fueled me. It felt frantic, bruising, needy. We pushed ourselves into each other as if we were feral creatures, held captive and starved. Feeding on something we had buried deep inside only to be found behind the teeth of the other. Sucking his tongue into my mouth causes him to moan and set me ablaze.

I force our mouths apart with a pull of his hair; desperately needing to catch my breath and clear my head. Panting heavily, we stare into the depths of the other in quiet disbelief. This was really happening.

“You sure you want this?” I needed to hear him confirm that he did, in-fact, want to go where we were obviously heading. I knew Roman long enough to know he had serious intimacy issues. Their seeming lack of presence in this moment had me in a whirlwind. He pressed himself into my center once again, his nails bruising crescents into my skin.

“What do you fuckin’ think, dumbass?” I let go of his throat and dig my own nails into his jaw to grip him harshly. He openly smiles with swollen lips.

“Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you want.” His expression falters and his jaw tenses beneath my fingers, eyes flickering from mine.

“You know what I fuckin’ want.” His words seep through gritted teeth. I press my forehead to his. Ever so slowly, I begin rhythmically grinding my hips down upon him. The friction causing his eyes to slip shut. A loud groan escapes from somewhere deep within his chest.

“Roman, I swear to God I’ll stop.” He doesn’t say anything so I still my hips. Umber eyes shoot open and he tries to move me himself. I won’t budge. “I will get up and I will fucking leave you here like this. Pathetic and alone with nothing but your hand.” As the words leave my mouth, so do my hips leave his. His brows snap together and tries in vain to pull me back down again. Still, I don’t budge. “I will walk out this door and you will never fucking see me again. Is that what you want?” The threat was hollow but said with a bite that had shaken me. I was falling into this role a little too easily, a little too well.

He gapes up at me when I completely let go of him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I attempt to push myself off. It’s him who doesn’t budge this time. He yanks me back down with every ounce of strength his small frame contained. The sudden action has all the air escaping my lungs. With a hand clasped to the back of my neck, he seizes me into a searing kiss.

“Whatever you want.” The words frantically rush into my mouth. “I don’t care.” Fighting against the grip on my neck, he finally gives. I pull back to contemplate his words. Tilting my head slightly, my gaze falls to his tie. An idea begins forming as I slowly untie the silk. My nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt has him intently studying my face. Whatever I want.

Cupping his warm face in one hand, I smear the blood of his bottom lip with my thumb. He parts his mouth and sucks it in. With my other, I reach for Roman’s and slide his own thumb into my waiting mouth. As I swirl my tongue around him, Roman’s eyes darken and he sucks me harder.

Pulling from his lips with a pop, I rub my now wet thumb against his nipple. A soft moan is let loose. My tongue continuously plays with him inside me. He shudders as I pinch the bud beneath my fingers before doing the same to the other. Letting go of his hand, I reach forward to pinch both simultaneously and he groans loudly.

My cheeks hollow around his thumb as he slips it from me. He drags it down my bottom lip and stares intently. Transfixed by my spit glistening in the incandescent light. Cupping my jaw, he pulls me forward to replace his thumb with his tongue. That familiar groan returning when I suck him in. His other hand tangles itself into my staticky waves and he kisses me with everything he has.

“Give me your wrists.” The order was partially muffled against his mouth.

“Huh?” The question was mumbled into my lips.

“I said,” Threading my fingers into his own hair, I pull him back. “give me your fucking wrists.” With a dramatic tug, his tie is jerked from underneath his collar in a rush. He sat still, blinking up at me. The walnut shells of his eyes fall into my hands. There was a slight apprehension, a nervousness to them. “Do you trust me, Rome?”

“Y-yeah.” His voice was hushed as he presents his hands to me and I slowly start wrapping the silk around his wrists.

“We can stop at anytime. You know that, right? Just say the word and I’ll stop immediately.” My reassurance seems to irritate more than comfort. He rolls his eyes with a tilt of the head.

“Would you fuck off? I’m fine.” A crease digs itself into the bridge of his nose and my actions immediately still.

“I’m not going to fuck off unless I know that you know that you’re safe with me, okay?” This dominate role was far from the submissive one I was innately familiar with. We obviously had never discussed boundaries and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore. “I need you to know you can speak up. That I’ll stop the second you tell me to.” Roman looks like he’d rather get a root canal than continue this discussion, but I don’t care. This was far too important. “I need you to know that your comfort is important—that your feelings matter.”

“I fucking know it, alright?” He snapped before groaning and throwing his head back. “God, what the fuck else do you need to know before you just shut the fuck up and get on with it already?” My hand quickly finds its way to his throat with a squeeze. He seems more than pleased by this response.

“Do you wanna fucking cum?”

“Clearly I wanna fuckin’—“ My other hand slaps over his mouth and I can feel him smiling underneath my palm. Roman was gladly trying to piss me off. He was itching to see me lose control; yearned to meet the creature locked inside me. The wicked one I never acknowledged or came near; the demon only he could see. She bathes me in the blood of solidified suspicions.

Roman didn’t want my empathy.

Roman wanted my cruelty.

“Then are you fucking stupid? If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll make damn sure to have you crying like a little bitch before I even think of letting you cum.” His eyes blackened as he watches my succubuss unhinge her jaw to swallow me whole. “Got it?” He nods quickly. Rapid bursts of air shoot from his nose across the back of my hand. “And lose the fuckin’ attitude.” Removing my hand, I slap him across the mouth; handing myself over to his desires completely.

Having finished binding his wrists and setting them behind his head, I rise from the couch. Standing between his ankles, I unzip my skirt and let it fall to my feet. The muscles in his forearms flex. His tongue peaks between his lips as he gawked at the damp lace between my thighs. Sliding my finger below his chin, I tilt his head until he meets my eyes.

“You know what I want, Roman?” My hand takes home around his throat once again. Now having his full attention, I feel him swallow as he shakes his head. His excitement was palpable. Settling my right knee between his thighs, I nudge it gently against his hard length. His nostrils flare with a sharp inhale. “I want you to watch me get myself off on your thigh.” He groans loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was out of desire, frustration, or a mixture of both but the response delighted me nonetheless. Placing my left knee to the other side of his thigh, I fully seat myself upon him. “Knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

“Fuck.” Slowly grinding against the fabric of his thigh, my lashes flutter at the sensation. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it. I was dripping wet and could already feel myself swiftly ruining his ostentatiously expensive pants.

“How does it feel Roman? To have me use you like this?“ A whimper meets my ears. His eyes transfixed on my clothed center sliding roughly against his thigh. There was a fire beneath his skin and he was entranced by the sight of kerosene being poured upon it. “To ruin you like this?” His smokey gaze flickers up to mine and I use the moment to grind myself harder against him. The rough friction elicits another moan from me, louder this time. “This is all you’re good for—” My final word comes out in a whine causing Roman to tear into his bottom lip hard enough to draw more blood. “Tell me. How does it feel?” I nudge my knee into his throbbing member once more and the deepest groan ripples through his teeth. His arms jerk against his binds as I use my free hand to sharply twist his nipple. “Answer me!”

“Good! It feels—Fuck.” The sentiment came out hoarse and husky. He shoves his head back into his tied wrists, thrusting himself against my knee. “Feels so f-fuckin’ good.” Digging my thumb into his pulse point, I slide my knee back. He whines; all hopes of friction dashing in an instant.

“No. You don’t get to cum until I say you do. Got it, you demented little fuck?” He’s a whimpering mess beneath me; eyes wide and watery. I wanted to drown myself in the sight and never touch the light of day again.

My thong bunches to the side from the aggression in my movements. Now fully bare against him, a shiver rushes through me as my clit kisses the luxurious fabric of his thigh. I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“If you don’t fucking behave I swear to God I’ll leave you like this—tied up and soaking for whoever to find.” The bite in my threats were losing their edge. My voice lost somewhere between a moan and sigh. An impending orgasm flicks it’s tongue at the base of my spine.

“Wouldn’t want it to be your father who finds you like this, would you?” A mangled whine shakes itself from his throat and has me smiling.

The blood seeping from his parted lips seem to glitter under the city light of his windows. I flatten my tongue across his jaw and drag it up his chin until my mouth fills with copper. The taste causes a sigh to slip from my mouth into his.

“You’re close. I-I can feel it.” His voice tight and high-pitched as he starts to slightly bounce his leg. “You’ve f-fucking drenched me.” The jolting of his thigh into my clit has my head falling into his shoulder; grinding harder and faster against him. The nails of my right hand embed themselves into the skin of his waist. A carnal mosaic of the flesh born below my grip. I was at the brink. “I-I wanna feel you cum.” He’s whining as he starts to bounce his leg faster; face buried in my hair. His shaking breath against my cheek has my entire body erupting in goosebumps. “P-please lemme f-feel you cum.” His beg hitches to an even higher pitch. His thigh nearly vibrating under me, desperate pleas rippling through me. Every nerve ending in my body felt ablaze.

It was all too much.

A scream rips from my lungs and I sink my teeth into the flesh of Roman’s shoulder. He tasted of salt and brimstone. My nails frenetically scratch into his skin as my thighs tremble and squeeze. Groans barrel up from his chest to mingle with my own. My release shatters through me with a blinding intensity I had never experienced before. I was overflowing; drenching his thigh to seep into his soul.

The heaving of our chests pressed tightly together slowly lulls me back down again. My fingertips absentmindedly painting shapes into his skin with the blood I’d drawn from his waist. Sparkles of light and voids of soot twirl across my vision. An indention of my teeth remained etched into his shoulder. He shudders when I press a soft kiss onto the bruised skin. My head falling heavy when it replaces my mouth to lean into him.

I’m suddenly reminded of Roman’s own much needed release upon finding his hips desperately grinding circles into empty air. He’s whimpering; body begging. My hand still cradled his throat so I languidly brush my thumb along his pulse point. His heart was racing.

“Do you need to cum, Roman?” A loud, high-pitched whine answers me.

“Please.” The word comes out in a choked sob. “I need—“ He was fighting against his binds, the silk digging painfully into his wrists. “Please.” He frantically presses open mouth kisses into any inch of my skin that he could reach; pleading with glassy eyes. “Please lemme cum.” I leave his throat to gently cup his cheek and smile softly before pulling back from him. “No—“ He stops himself when I thread one hand into his hair and place the other bloodied one atop his chest.

“You gonna cum your pants for me, Romie?” I take my sweet time sliding my palm towards where he needs it most. “Like the needy little slut that you are?” The whispered words were dripping in ghost pepper honey that had him swallowing. “Are you that desperate? That pathetic?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out in a quiet quick rush of air. “Y-yeah, I am.” My hand finally reaches his pulsing length and it twitches beneath my fingers. He immediately ruts against my palm and I squeeze him before jerking his head back.

“Stop.” He clenches his teeth but surprisingly does. Tensing beneath me, using every ounce of self control to still himself. He was trembling beneath my grasp. Frustrated tears caressed his lashes and began streaming down his flushed cheeks. His breath was coming out hard and shallow through flared nostrils.

A memory flashes through my mind: Roman’s captivated stare watching his glistening thumb press into my bottom lip.

“Open your mouth.” Again, he follows my orders instantly. Hovering my face above his, my lips purse with a drop of spit. He catches it with a moan that I immediately kiss into my mouth. “Cum.” My voice drops just above a whisper against his raw lips. “Make a mess of yourself.”

He instantly begins fucking himself roughly into my grip. The heat of his flesh searing me through the fabric. Grunting into my open mouth as I tug his hair into the cushions just below his wrists. His hands opening and closing before locking into tight fists. “Look at me.” His eyes shoot open. “Such a good boy for me.” A familiar emotion swirls through the sliver of hazel around his pupils. His lids flutter as he fought with everything in him to keep himself rooted in my gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Roman.”

His hips shoot from the couch as he explodes and spreads me open across his thigh. The sensation causes my breath to catch in my throat. A gravely yell rips from the deepest parts of himself and tears apart every muscle in my body. He pours everything he has into the fabric beneath my hand with wide eyes never leaving mine. He collapses hard with shuttering breaths; body limp and twitching.

I release him to bring my palm to my lips; the slightest bit damp from him. My tongue paints his taste into my memory with pupils blown. Jaw slack, he watches intently through heavy wet lashes. His muddy eyes fill with that same emotion I had seen from him earlier.

“Lemme taste you.” The request was nearly silent but it rattled me like a wail. If I was any further from him I wouldn’t have heard it, but I did and couldn’t believe he had asked. Lifting my hips slightly, I run two fingers through my sensitive folds and shiver. He immediately takes notice and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips.

My fingers tremble as they rise towards his mouth. He inhales deeply before parting his lips for me. Slipping into the velvet of his mouth, his eyes flutter shut. His pointed tongue runs up between their gaps before flattening to drag back down. He was savoring every drop as if he were a starved man lost at sea. An involuntary hum reverberates from his throat into my skin and his cheeks seem to darken even more. He playfully bites down with sparkling eyes when I slip my fingers from his warm mouth.

The sight had the blood pounding in my ears beginning their familiar chant: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ It overwhelmed me and I couldn’t help but pull him into one last searing kiss. Tasting myself on his tongue had my head spinning. Here on my knees, I prayed to a godless sky that he could taste my heart overflowing into his mouth. Cupping his cheeks in both hands, my thumbs brush away the damp paths left by his previous tears. His forehead suddenly creases beneath mine.

“You okay, Rome?” He shakes my hands from his face and turns away from me. My own brows knot together in worry.

“I’m fine.” His face further contorts upon hearing how his voice cracked. It might as well have cracked my ribs right along with it. He clenches his jaw before gnawing at the inside of his cheek. His hands form into tight fist behind his head. He was trying not to cry again.

My fingers twitch in my lap and it takes everything in me not to wrap him in my arms. Instead, I reach for his wrists and bring them forward. They felt heavy and limp in my hands. Right as I began my attempt at untying them, a small sniffle brings my attention back to Roman’s face.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know?” I try to gently reassure him but it only deepens the tortured disgust in his features.

“I said I’m fucking fine.” The words are spit with a venom that eats through to my bones. Feeling me search his feature has him crumbling before me. Fresh tears immediately start spilling down his cheeks and into the pits of my soul. I couldn’t help but reach for him. He surprisingly lets me cup his cheek, so I gently turn him to face me. His eyes squeeze tighter below my lips as I lightly kiss their corners. The small gesture of affection has a mangled sob ripping from his chest. Fully burying his face into my hand, he lets himself weep into my palm.

Brushing back the strands of hair sticking to his sweat, I feel my own eyes filling with tears. Refusing to let myself cry, I leave his hair to clumsily attempt untying his wrists with one hand but the knot had grown significantly tighter. No doubt from Roman constantly pulling against it all this time.

“Hey, Rome?” He responds with a mangled sound in the back of his throat. A desperate need to comfort and free him started anxiously clawing at my throat. “Listen, I know you’re totally fine and everything but I’m actually not.” His watery eyes glance to me, not registering that I’m joking. “The she demon that possessed me, she—the bitch was a Girl Scout from hell. This knot’s tighter than a goddamn hangman’s noose.” Roman pulls his face from my hand while rapidly blinking. The sounds of grinding metal fill my ears and their smokey scent tickles my nose. I flash him a goofy, albeit nervous, smile and the gears inside his head finally click into place.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” There was no bite to his words, having spoke them through a bemused chuckle. He wipes his nose with back of his hand and inhales the remnants of his vulnerability. Grateful relief balms the scrapes at my neck left by worry’s desperate claws.

His smile falters when I suddenly get up and leave him; it's as if a burst of panic fills his chest. However, when he watches me pick up a pair of scissors and the joggers from his gym bag, I sense the tension in him ease slightly. It's only when I climb back atop his thigh that he appears fully relieved. The weight of my warmth sinking into him seems to ground him.

After tossing his change of pants onto the cushion beside us, I carefully slide the blade under his tie and free him. The silk had dug in painfully, leaving nearly raw indentions in it’s wake. I mentally make a note to check my purse for some soothing lotion later as my fingers lightly brush across his skin. My thumbs begin rubbing into the muscles of his forearms. Roman was studying my face intently.

“These feel okay?” Shaking out his wrists, he rotates them a few times before letting them fall limp in my lap. It was his way of silently asking me to continue with my actions. He had far too much pride to express his desire for such a tender expression.

“Feels fine.” He fights off a shy smile when my hands pick up where they left off, massaging him gently. “My side on the other hand feels like fuckin’ cruise papers with the way ya shredded me.” He chuckles but I could still hear the residual emotion behind it. I lift the corner of his shirt up to take a look. The sight has my stomach instantly dropping; tangled weeds of angry wounds imbedded deep into flesh. Needles of red hot guilt begin sewing threads of shame up my legs. Looking down, I’m greeted with his blood caked under my nails. Memories of violence and words of degradation take ownership of my lungs.

“Fuck Rome…” My voice cracks and I suddenly feel my own tears holding a knife to my throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Roman quickly tears the fabric from my grasp and yanks it down.

“Oh shit. No no no no no—fuck fuck fuck.” His panicked expression made me feel so much worse. The canines of an anxiety attack drag up the nape of my neck like a threat. “I—I was fucking kidding!”

“I shouldn’t have d—done that to you. I—I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have said—I didn’t—Rome, I didn’t mean them! The words—I—I’m so sor—“

“Oh dear God, would you fuckin’ stop.” He quickly cut me off but I had already dove to the deep end of a molten lava shame spiral.

“I—I made you fucking bleed Roman!” He rolls his eyes. “Multiple times!” His hands slap themselves onto the sides of my face, pressing hard into my cheeks.

“Yeah and you licked it up and it was the sexiest fuckin’—” I couldn’t open my eyes to look at him. If I looked at him I’d most certainly start crying. “I mean, I’m literally fucking drenched in cum right now.” My mouth was set in a hard line but my bottom lip quivered. “Come on now…” Nope, didn’t have to look at him. Turns out his voice alone could send tears falling. “I was kidding! I liked the fuckin’—fuckin’ feral scratchy shit! It was hot! And—and I told you to hit me! I—I wanted it! I wanted you to say all that fuckin’ nasty shit!” His fingers press into my skin harder as if he could force his sentiments to penetrate my skull. “I…I fuckin’ loved it. Like a lot. Okay?” My head was shaking back and forth trying to gain some control over my emotions, shake free of my tears. Roman didn’t know that though. How could he? I wasn’t speaking. He probably thought my actions were just my way of rejecting him. “Please don’t fuckin’ do this.”

My eyes crack open as I remove Roman’s hands from my face. The knotted look of bewilderment etched into his features summons the childhood phantom of my mother. Taking her disembodied palm to slap me across the mouth and rattle me with shrill screams: ‘You need to pull yourself the fuck together!’ I follow suit, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes.

“Promise?” My question came out pathetic and small. I fucking hated it and I fucking hated crying. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Stupid.

“Again, and I can’t stress this enough, soaking in my own cum right now.” His reassurance comes with a laugh that tugs my frown up slightly.

“I just—I’m sorry. It was one thing in the moment but just like… I dunno. I’ve never done anything like that. I—I don’t know what came over me.” My face felt feverish as the backs of my hands wipe the shame staining my cheeks. “Seeing the aftermath just kinda, it just—The thought of actually hurting you makes me feel fucking sick, Rome.” I feel the back of Roman’s knuckle brush away the tears I had missed. Chancing a look at his face gifted me the softest expression I had ever seen from him. “I never want to cause you any real harm.” My voice sounded almost foreign, weak with emotion and vulnerability. Where did all my bravado go? Oh yeah, it’s dripping down my thighs.

“Well you didn’t, alright? I’m fine. Like completely. A-o-fuckin’-kay over here.” He throws me the okay symbol and tries offering me a reassuring smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“But you were crying, Rome.” The smile instantly drops.

“That? No, I wasn’t—“ He shakes his head before scratching at his jaw. “It—it wasn’t because of that.” My brows furrow, and he groans, hands dragging down his face. “Look, I didn’t—I don’t—fuck!” He shakes his fingers through his hair and looks as if he’s about to rip it out. Refusing to meet my eyes, his stare finally settles on my hands lying face up in my lap. “It was your fuckin’—your hands, okay? It was your fuckin’ hands.” My eyes fall from his face and focus on the blood staining my fingertips. So it really was because I hit him. “The way you—“ He sighs. “The way you held me.” Oh. His head falls back as a long frustrated groan escapes him, eyes searching for heaven in the ceiling. “I dunno, okay? It just felt—it felt—“ He couldn’t finish. His eyes fall shut before he continues, his voice even quieter than before. “All I could think about was how you had looked at me.” I swallow before whispering just as quietly as he.

“How did I look at you?”

“I don’t know.” His voice grew thick with emotion once again. He shakes his head and finally meets my eyes; looking so defeated and sad. His pain bled me. “You’re always fuckin’ lookin’ at me like—like—“ Again, he can’t finish. He clenches his jaw like a threat towards the words caught in his throat.

“Like I love you?” His eyes squeeze shut and he turns his face from me once again; hiding himself from my words. I watch him clench and unclench his jaw until courage clenches my own. “Because I do love you, Roman.” Every muscle in his body seemed to tense beneath me, but I couldn’t stop my feelings from shattering their shackles. They’d been locked up for so long that their first taste of freedom sends them sprinting. “I love you so fucking much.” He clenches his fists, still unable to open his eyes and look at me.

I let myself lean into him and lay my head onto his shoulder. His fist start to unfurl and he lets his head fall against mine. A shuddering breath leaves him and he buries his face into my hair, hands tentatively resting on my hips. We sit in silence as I listen to his breathing slowly steadying. Once it had nearly returned to normal, I feel his lips gently press into my temple.

“I love you too.” The words were murmured into me, a heavy sigh follows after them. “You have no fucking idea.” The wilted buds of my heart and mind begin to bloom. My arms wrap themselves around him and squeeze him to me tightly. He reluctantly wraps his arms around me as well; slowly tightening his embrace until he’s clinging to my soul. Turning my head I press a kiss into the side of his throat and hear him sigh once again; the weight between us was dissipating.

“I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.” The words he had stuttered out when trying to calm me drift to the forefront of my mind. “I—I liked it too.” The warmth of his skin embraces my shy confession. “What we did together, I mean.” I hear him snort and it has me smiling against him. The air was feeling lighter.

“I’d fuckin’ say so, ya fuckin’ banshee. You shoulda seen how fuckin’ hard you came. I mean—Jesus Christ, you were fuckin’ feral.” I hide my face further into his neck but can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from me. “And now you act all fuckin’ bashful and shit? How the fuck does that even work? You literally tied me up and road my thigh like a buckin’ bronco.” I bite his throat and my body shakes from his laughter vibrating through me.

“Fuck you! I’m complex.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me back to face him. “You’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He was smiling as he said it. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“The feelings mutual.” His smile only widens and he bounces his leg. I yelp in surprise, frantically gripping at his arms to maintain balance. He’s giggling uncontrollably. “You’re a sick fuck, Roman Roy.”

“Ooo round two already, thigh master?” He bounces his leg again. I try to slap his chest but he catches my wrist with his freehand and pulls me into a kiss I’m never going to forget. It was different than all the ones we had shared prior. This one was so much softer, so much gentler. Our foreheads rest against one another. His smile against my lips illuminates every crevice once void of light; I was loved.

#this used to be 10k words lol #I’ve rewritten it soooo many times #Roman Roy #Succession #Succession HBO #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy one shot #roman roy fanfic #roman roy imagine #succession smut #succession fanfic #succession imagine #succession one shot #mine #can’t believe I’m following up kittens & perverts w/ this filth lmao #it still doesn’t feel perfect but she’s about to confiscate the phone from me if I keep rewriting this lol #cruelty & empathy

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justlemmeadoreyou · 3 months

Text

Hopelessly Devoted to You-Part 2

Summary: Y/n agrees to Harry's offer; a flashback from the camp.

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, a LOT of cute shit in the end (harry with kids :(((( (my weakness))

(previous part here) | (series masterlist) | (main masterlist)

Harry wasn’t this much of a hopeless romantic he is now, over Y/n. Sure, he had had his fair share of heartbreaks in the past, but that didn’t stop him from loving unconditionally.

So, when he found out about Y/n, it made his heart ache. He didn’t know if she wanted her as her lawyer, or just wanted to talk to him about it as a friend

Either way, he was happy to help.

There was a call from his secretary, Anna, when he was going through a document.

“Yes?”

“Mrs. Clark is here to see you” she said through the phone.

“Mrs. Clark? Oh, Y/n? Yeah, send her in”

He would never get used to her carrying the name of her douchebag husband.

She knocked the door softly, even though he had already allowed her to come in.

“Come in”

She unlocked the door, a smile on her face as she let herself in, closing it behind her.

“Hi” she greeted him, coming and sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

“Hi, how have you been?” he asked.

“I’m alright. I-I thought about–the offer you gave me the other day”

“Oh yeah? What did you decide?”

“I’ll–I’ll take it, yeah. I just want this all to be over as soon as possible”

His smile faded away. Did something bad happen? Because if it did, God forbid he would go to her house right now and beat him up.

“Did-did something happen, Y/n? You know you can tell me, right? I’m here for you”

She smiled again, shaking her head in no, “No–nothing bad happened–it’s just–he kind of got suspicious that day–after I went home, he kept asking me where I had gone and what I do”

“Oh–what did you tell him?”

“I told him it was lunch with a friend. He asked me who it was, and I told him it was Grace–she is a friend of mine. He called her and she said that I was with her the whole afternoon, she’s super sweet, and saved me.”

He sighed in relief, thankful that he hadn’t hurt her.

“He’s such a bastard–it’s like he feels that he owns you or something” he huffed.

“I know! That’s why–I want you to be my lawyer”

He grinned wide, a victory for his heart as he shook her hand.

“I’m so happy, Y/n. And I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about the money, alright? You don’t have to pay me at all”

Her eyes widened. Why was he doing this for free? She knew this was going to be a long trial, because he won’t let go that easily. Plus, she would have to fight for Ellie’s custody too.

“But–Mr.Styles–I can’t take it. It’s a super generous offer, but I really can’t.”

Of course she won’t. He’ll just have to make her take it, then.

“Y/n–okay, tell me, how will you pay me, then?”

Her shoulders slumped, mouth quirking in a pout, that he wanted to kiss. But he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, where numerous others were locked in.

“I have my savings–since the abuse started, I started to save money for myself, and Ellie’s education-in case I ever needed to leave him, or he left me for someone else”

If anyone leaves her, her, for someone else, he has to be the biggest moron on the planet.

“Y/n, you know I won’t let you do that. You are leaving Elliot, and you’ll need it after you move out of his house”

“But–but–”

“No but’s. Please. I insist”

She sighed, licking her lips as she reluctantly agreed. She began to think, lost in thought as he began to scribble something on the notepad nearby.

“Oh-what if I get a job till then? Then you’ll let me pay you, right? Because then money would be coming in and savings won’t be an issue–”

“We’ll see about that”

He dismissed. He wasn’t going to let her pay him even a penny.

. . .

“So, you’re a lawyer?”

Y/n asked him.

They were sat by the bonfire. After a long, long day of kids screaming, playing around, crying for their parents, lots of first aid kits because they kept falling off the trampoline–all of them had a moment of rest.

A bonfire was lit, after the kids were put to sleep. Everyone had found someone they could talk to–just like Y/n and Harry found each other.

They were sat side by side on the mat, a cup of tea in their hands as they talked and laughed with no care in the world.

“Yeah. Family lawyer. If you ever need help, you can come to me, I’ll help you–no money in exchange”

She had giggled softly back then, but that offer was her lifeline today.

“Alright. Noted” she smiled, taking a sip off her cup.”

“What about you? Your husband–he works in accounts?”

Her smile slipped away at the mention of him, and Harry took a mental note to not bring him up again. She was hoping he would do that too.

“Yeah, he’s an accountant”

“That’s good.

They fell into silence after that, the sounds in the background only being the sounds of crackling fire and then suddenly, there was a cheer. They looked up to see someone had gotten a guitar, and began to play a song. It was difficult to identify which one it was from just the guitar tune, but Harry knew.

"Horse with No Name," Harry said, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "You play guitar?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Harry nodded, a hint of bashfulness in his expression. "Yeah, I used to play quite a bit back in college. It's been a while, though."

Encouraged by his confession, Y/n urged him, "Well, why don't you play something for us now? I'd love to hear."

Harry hesitated for a moment, but the warm glow of the fire and Y/n's encouraging smile emboldened him. With a nod, he took the guitar from the musician and began to strum a gentle melody.

As the soothing notes filled the air, Y/n felt herself relax, the tension of the day melting away. Harry's fingers danced across the strings with practiced ease, and soon, the melody took on a life of its own.

Lost in the music, Y/n closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the melody. For a brief moment, there was nothing else in the world except the sound of Harry's guitar and the crackling of the fire.

When the song came to an end, there was a moment of silence before applause erupted from the small crowd gathered around the bonfire. Y/n opened her eyes to see Harry smiling at her, a twinkle of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, her heart full with the beauty of the moment.

Harry returned her smile, his own heart lightened by the connection they had shared. "Anytime," he replied, his voice soft with sincerity.

“So, when did you decide to become a lawyer?” she asked, wanting to talk to him more. The camp was only a week, and that was a small amount of time for her to get to know this gentleman who found her interesting.

"Well, ever since I was a child, I've had this innate sense of justice. I couldn't stand seeing people treated unfairly, and I knew I wanted to make a difference." Harry replied.

Y/n nodded, impressed. "That's admirable. Not everyone has the courage to pursue their passions."

She knew she was talking about herself.

Harry smiled gratefully. "Thank you. It hasn't always been easy, but knowing that I can help people in their time of need makes it all worthwhile.”

He noted how she had said “not everyone” and he suspected she was talking about herself.

“And–I don’t mean to intrude, but I think when you said, “not everyone”, you meant yourself?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, gulping down as she replied, “Yeah, I–I wanted to be a teacher. I’ve always loved children, and it was my dream to get a job at a primary school and teach and take care of little children.

Harry smiled. She was so innocent, so pure. But she had seen more than he ever did.

“So, why did you quit?”

Her smile faded away again, “It was mostly me, but I got married young, you know–I fell in love with him in high school, and I was just a young, naive, innocent girl who did not know better”

He nodded, listening intendedly as she talked about it.

“So–I got married, and then pregnant, and all of that faded away. Like, I completed school and my degree–that was when I got pregnant so I never really had a chance to complete my masters degree or look for a job. And then Ellie was a premature baby, so Elliot suggested that I stay at home.”

It was so easy to talk to him. Even though they had met today, the way he was able to get her to talk so much–open up about her past, and talk about stuff she never had with anyone–was magic.

“So, would you work if you got the chance to?” he asked. If she was his wife, he would never have gotten her pregnant if she didn’t want to, and he would’ve made her complete her masters, and get a Phd, even, because she was just that smart.

“I mean–yeah sure, I would. But I would need a masters degree to work in a decent school, and the opportunities are already so low. So, it’s a lost cause”

Harry immediately protested, “Hey, don’t say that. No, it’s not a lost cause. If you want to, you can still get your degree, and then work. You’re young too”

She blushed at that. It had been a while since she had heard that.

. . .

The next morning, Y/n took Ellie to meet Harry.

“Honey, this is Harry–he’s mommy’s new friend”

She introduced him, and he smiled so big, his dimples and bunny teeth were on display.

“Oh god, who is this pretty little girl?” he exclaimed, and she giggled, already looking up at him with adoration.

“Hi Harry, I’m Ellie. But my mom calls me cupcake”

He giggled again, crouching down on his knees, taking her tiny hands in his.

“So, what can I call you, Miss.Cupcake?”

She giggled again, and seeing the way Harry was with kids, made Y/n’s heart swell.

“You can call me cupcake too” she replied, and he reached into his pockets, pulling out a candy, “Here, take this” he gave it to her, and she smiled.

“Next time, I’ll have a cupcake for you”

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: The end of the fall semester is a week away! One game left before winter break, and you decide to send Aegon a message.

rating: 18+ (detailed warning below the cut)

series masterlist

previous chapter ~ Ch. 7: Superstitious ~ next chapter

warnings: p in v, choking, thigh riding, angst, spanking, hair pulling, language

note: hope you enjoy this chapter! don't hate me too much for the angst you know I can't help myself!!

dividers by @firefly-graphics

“I have to go home,” Helaena tells you, dropping her bag and joining you and Sara on the blanket you’ve laid out on the quad.

Sara lowers her sunglasses. The days have turned significantly colder with the end of the semester looming, but today the sun had decided to show itself, leading to many students skipping their afternoon classes to sunbathe on the quad.

“What are you talking about?” Sara asks, eyebrows furrowing together with confusion.

“There’s still a week left before winter break!” you exclaim, motioning to the books you held in your lap.

Finals season. Finals season was killer.

Aegon had passed his midterms. He’d sent you an appreciative text that sent you spiraling and then hadn’t texted you since. It had been a couple of weeks. You were sure he’d reach out, especially after his annoyance at you avoiding him.

But he hadn’t.

You wished it wasn’t eating away at you, but it was. Even when you hung out with Cregan, went on several more dates to dinner, the movies, and ice cream. Your mind constantly wandered back to Aegon.

Bastard.

“My dad’s getting worse,” Helaena admitted, crossing her legs as she sat.

You and Sara exchanged a pained glance. You knew Helaena’s father wasn’t doing well, his health had been steadily declining the past few years. He seemed to be pretty stable the past year, Helaena hadn’t shared any updates.

Aegon hadn’t shared anything with you.

Not that he needed to. What were you even? Friends? Classmates? Lovers? You cringed internally at the thought.

“I wanted to stay for Egg’s last game before winter break,” Helaena said, shaking her head,

“But..I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?” Sara probed.

Helaena pursed her lips, eyebrows knitting together. She looked past you and Sara as though seeing something far away that the both of you could not see.

“Just like…it may be sooner than I thought,” she tells you both, “and I want to be able to say goodbye.”

“What about Aegon?” you blurt out, unable to stop yourself.

Helaena glances at you, but there’s no suspicion in her eyes even as she takes in the blush blooming on your cheeks.

“He’s in the family group chat,” she tells you, “He sees Mom’s texts. I can’t corral all my brothers, they can come if they want to.”

You nod, pulling your eyes away from her gaze.

“Has he mentioned something?” she asks.

“What?” you answer, “To me? Why would he mention something to me?”

Sara grimaces at the defensiveness of your tone. You can feel sweat beading on the back of your neck.

“You’re his tutor, aren’t you?” she questions.

“We sort of stopped that.”

“Oh,” Helaena says, picking at a loose thread on her jeans, “That’s a shame.”

“Is it?” you ask, “Aegon wasn’t super serious.”

“He was really proud of his midterm, look,” Helaena says grabbing her phone.

She turns the screen to you and you’re greeted by a selfie of Aegon holding the blue test packet up next to his grinning face. His eyes are crinkled with how hard he’s smiling, and his finger points to the B- written in red on the top corner. You can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips or the way your heart begins to beat furiously in your chest as you stare at Helaena’s phone.

“He worked really hard,” you tell Helaena, “But my tutoring days are over.”

“Maybe Lydia will help him,” Helaena muses, swiping through her notifications.

You tilt your head, curiosity gnawing at your insides.

“Lydia?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Sara flicks her gaze toward you, raising an eyebrow. Helaena hums, still scrolling through her phone. Sara bites her lip, fighting a laugh before making a curious face.

“Are they dating, Hel?” Sara asks, and you widen your eyes at her.

Sara merely shrugs.

“Um, well Egg doesn’t really date, but they’ve been spending a lot of time together since formal,” Helaena tells her, finally glancing up from her phone, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious about all the hot men on campus,” Sara says, smiling.

“Gross,” Helaena answers, “Shouldn’t you only be concerned about Jace?”

“I’m very concerned about Jace,” Sara says, placing a hand over her heart, “Concerned about his gorgeous, thick, co-”

“Enough!” Helaena interrupts, covering her ears.

Sara snickers and you rise from the blanket, gathering your things.

“Where are you going?” Sara asks, watching you pack your bag.

“Class.”

You head out, leaving your friends on the quad without saying another word, stomach churning at the thought of Aegon and Lydia.

You don’t see Aegon as you’re sitting with Sara in the bleachers before the game. Both of you are clad in Cregan and Jace’s jerseys.

It’s tradition, the last game before winter break, the end of the first half of the season.

“You’re dating the goalie, you wear his jersey,” Brandon Karstark had told you.

“Silly superstition,” Arryx argued.

“It’s not like she’s his girlfriend,” Reese Bolton had said.

It was true. You and Cregan had been on several dates and made out in his car, but you hadn’t gone any further. In any way.

“Doesn’t matter,” John Umber told his friend, “She still has to wear it.”

I see you at another game in his jersey, I’m fucking you in it.

When the team comes onto the ice, the crowd roars, the sound of cheers almost deafening. You watch the team do a lap around the ice, Cregan sparing you a wave, and the flash of a smile, Jace close on his tail. You spot Aegon, he’s hard to miss, at least to you.

I see you at another game in his jersey, I’m fucking you in it.

His threat lingers in your mind, sending an ache between your thighs. When he looks up at the stands, his violet eyes meet yours. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to make sure your face doesn’t give away any of the mixed emotions you’re feeling.

Aegon drags his eyes down your face to your chest, drinking in the outfit you’re wearing. You dressed it up, the jersey falling right to the middle of your thighs completely covering the biker shorts you paired underneath. Fishnet tights decorate the rest of your legs and Aegon’s gaze hungrily follows the pattern down to your ankles.

As he brings his eyes back up to meet yours, you can feel your cheeks burning. Aegon grins, showing all his perfect, pearly white teeth, cocking his head to the side. No words are exchanged between you, but you understand what that look conveys.

You fucked around, you’re about to find out.

Naturally, after the team wins they head to the hockey house. You’d hoped to cling to Cregan at the party to avoid Aegon, but your plan came crashing down in the last five minutes of the game. A fight broke out on the ice leading to a broken nose and Cregan headed to the ER.

He insisted you not wait around for him.

“These things take hours,” he told you, voice muffled from the soaked rag pressed against his face, “Seriously, not the first time not the last. Don’t waste your night in the ER.”

So you ended up clinging to Sara instead, effectively cockblocking your best friend to her dismay.

“Where are you going?” you ask Sara, as she heads upstairs.

“I’m just running to Jace’s room, will you chill?” she tells you, “Aegon is nowhere to be found. You’re good.”

“Sara,” you begin, but trail off.

What are you supposed to say? Aegon threatened to fuck you, and you went and poked the bear?

“Relax,” Sara tells you, “I’m going to grab my coat, grab Jace, and then we can go back to the apartment.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Give me five minutes,” she says and disappears upstairs.

Five minutes go by.

Then ten.

Then fifteen.

You text her several times. Nothing.

“This fucking whore,” you mutter, heading up the stairs.

You’re not sure which room is Jace’s. Last time you were in the hockey house you were wasted before you passed out in Aegon’s bed. You try the first door. Locked. You bang on it for a moment, hearing only giggles, none of which sound like Sara. You move down the hall.

An empty room, a bathroom, two girls who throw a shoe at you when you interrupt their rendezvous. And then a silver-haired boy, sat on a small couch next to his bed, violet eyes meeting yours when you open the door.

Aegon.

Shit.

“Hey bunny,” he says casually, closing the book on his lap, and tossing it onto a side table.

He leans back, arms spread over the back of the couch. He’s freshly showered, hair still slick with water, droplets falling onto the white t-shirt he wears. He grins at you, eyes falling to Cregan’s jersey you’re still wearing.

“I’m looking for Sara,” you tell him, going to close the door.

“Funny you should say that,” he says, standing suddenly.

You frown, trying to avoid glancing down, instead focusing on the dark black of his pupils.

“Why?” you ask.

Aegon walks toward you, slowly, like a lion stalking its prey. He makes his way in front of you, reaching behind you and pressing the door shut. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek, feel the warmth from his chest.

“I think she’s preoccupied,” he tells you, grimacing.

“Do you and Jace have telepathically communicate?” you ask, frustrated, “Seriously? Why is he so okay with your scheming?”

“He’s my bro,” Aegon says, feigning offense.

You roll your eyes.

“Where are they?” you ask.

“Don’t interrupt their fuc-”

“I don’t care if he’s balls deep Egg!” you say loudly, “Where are they?”

“Your apartment, jeez,” he says, laughing at the groan you release, “They left out the back.”

“I’m going to kill her,” you tell him.

“Don’t be mad, bunny,” he says, reaching for your hand.

Aegon laces his fingers through yours, watching them for a moment before bringing his eyes back to your face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tell him, but you don’t pull your hand away.

“Like what?” he asks, swaying slightly.

“Like you’re going to fuck me,” you tell him, “Not happening.”

Aegon sinks his teeth into his lower lip.

“If you didn’t want me to fuck you,” he begins, “Why did you wear that?”

Your face flushes as he motions to the jersey.

“I was very clear,” he tells you, “And you’re a very smart girl.”

You swallow as he brings his hand to the collar of the jersey, rubbing the material between the pads of his fingers.

“You just trying to be a tease, bunny?” Aegon asks, eyes roaming down your figure, “Cause you look fucking amazing. You know how hard I was on the ice?”

Your breathing has turned shallow, coming out in short pants.

“You wanna feel how hard you make me?” he asks softly, bringing your hand to his crotch.

You can feel him, hard and wanting, straining against the jeans he’s wearing. Your lips part slightly as he rocks his hips against your hand.

“You want to go?” Aegon asks, “This is your chance.”

He rocks against you again, pressing himself against your hand. You can already feel the heat pooling between your thighs, the dull ache beginning. You stare at him and swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“I don’t want to go,” you breathe and Aegon smiles.

He looks up at you as he begins to sink to his knees. He places a kiss on your stomach, down the tops of your thighs, on your knees, before parting your legs. He drags down your biker shorts, throwing them to a corner of his room.

“I’m going to tear these off with my fucking teeth,” Aegon murmurs, mouthing the fabric of your fishnets, swirling his tongue along the smooth skin of your inner thighs.

You squirm against his mouth as he presses a kiss to your barely clothed core. You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking him away from you suddenly. Aegon looks up at you, the picture of perfection, an angel on his knees for you.

“Get up,” you tell him, and he moves to his feet, his hands never leaving your thighs, traveling over the swell of your hips, up your ribs.

You move his hands off of you, pushing a hand against his chest to push him down onto the couch. He sits, head tilted back watching you as you straddle his lap. Aegon wraps his hands around your waist and you remove them once more.

“No,” you tell him, holding his hands above his head.

You know you must be blushing furiously, you’ve never been this domineering in bed before. Aegon looks up at you as you grind yourself against him, feeling him grow harder beneath you. His jaw is slack, violet eyes are blown black with lust, never leaving your face with every roll of your hips.

You tilt your head to the side. Fake it till you make it, that’s what Sara says. Pretend you’re confident.

“Why should you get to touch me?” you taunt, wetting your lips.

Aegon’s eyes widen slightly, surprised by your sudden dominance. He smirks, a small laugh leaving his perfect lips.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it,” Aegon says softly, fire in his violet eyes.

He doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t twist his wrists from your grasp.

“No, I don’t think so,” you tell him, “I don’t share with anyone. Got it?”

“There’s no one else,” Aegon answers immediately, “No one but you.”

You tilt your head to the side, a smirk sliding onto your face.

“You’d lie to my face?” you tease, “I know you’ve been seeing Lydia, Hel told me.”

“I’m not seeing Lydia,” Aegon tells you, “Well, I’m not anymore.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“What about you, hypocrite?” Aegon asks, tilting his chin up at you, “Still walking Cregan like a dog, I see.”

Then he tugs his wrists free, snaking a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you closer so his lips ghost the shell of your ear.

“He fuck you like I do?” he murmurs, pressing a hot kiss below your ear.

Your eyes flutter shut as his free hand moves to grab your ass.

“He make you cum as hard as I do?” he asks, kissing a trail down your neck.

You wet your lips, fingers tangling in his hair pulling him closer.

“Yeah, he does,” you breathe and you can feel Aegon smile against you.

“Fucking dirty little liar,” he says, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss is hungry and desperate; Aegon’s hand holds your neck so you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. Not that you want to. When Aegon kisses you, you want him to consume you completely.

He slips you almost completely off his lap, so you’re straddling his thigh. Your eyes widen as he presses you down against him.

“C’mon ride it,” he tells you, “I know you know how.”

You meet his eyes and he grins. He fucking knew. Of course, he did.

You roll your hips against him, just like that first night at the hockey house. His hands cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as you grind against him.

“Just like that, there’s my good girl,” he purrs, dragging a hand up your back.

You whimper as he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough for your air supply to be deliciously depleted. The friction is perfect as his jean-clad thigh presses against your warm center, every roll of your hips sending sparks of pleasure dancing throughout your body.

“You gonna cum? Or do you need an audience like last time?” he teases, referencing the party.

“Fuuuck,” you choke, as Aegon tightens his grip and your curse turns into a high-pitched keen as your orgasm floods through you.

Aegon releases your throat, picking you up and standing, moving to throw you on the bed. He roughly turns you onto your hands and knees. You push onto your forearms as Aegon’s hands move near your center, tearing through the fabric of your fishnets.

“I liked those!” you hiss, feeling him move the lace of your thong out of the way.

You hear him chuckle darkly, hear the zipper of his pants and feel the tip of his fat cock sliding through your slick folds.

“You’ll like this more,” he tells you, “Promise, bunny.”

Then he’s sinking into you and every witty retort you can think of slips from your head. Aegon rocks his hips against yours and your hands clutch the comforter seeking purchase. You grit your teeth, trying to not give him the satisfaction of a moan.

“Oooh, you are mad at me, huh?” Aegon teases, delivering a harsh thrust.

You bite the inside of your cheek, falling from your forearms, cheek pressing against the bed as Aegon continues to pound into you, bringing a hand down to slap your ass. The mark stings and Aegon rubs his hand over it before delivering another blow.

A whimper escapes your lips when he angles his hips just right, the head of his cock bullying into your sweet spot. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he leans forward, focusing on the spot he’s located.

“C’mon tell me how good it feels,” Aegon says, snapping his hips.

He brings his hand to the back of your head, pulling you up by your hair.

“Tell me,” he whispers in your ear.

“Fuck,” you moan, unable to help yourself.

“Touch that pretty little clit, right now,” he demands, and you bring your hand between your legs.

You rub nice slow circles around your aching clit, fingertips brushing against Aegon’s cock each time it slides in and out.

“There’s my good girl,” Aegon croons, “Even when she’s mad she listens so well.”

Gods there’s something about his voice, something about the way he talks you through it, it has your back arching, moans and whines spilling from your lips as you’re thrown over the edge once more, cunt spasming around his cock.

Aegon slows his thrusts as you cum, still painfully erect as he pulls out, tapping the side of your ass. You turn around, laying on your back, panting as you look up at him.

He holds his tongue between his teeth, eyes falling to your chest.

“Take that fucking thing off,” he tells you and you move the jersey over your head.

“And that,” he says motioning to your bra.

That lands on the floor as well, leaving you in your ruined fishnets and thong. Aegon climbs on top of you, dragging his mouth across your breasts, stopping to roll your nipples between his teeth and tug on them harshly.

He continues to worship your body with his mouth before he slides himself back into your warm, tight center. You lock your legs around his waist, raising your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Do I fuck better than him?” Aegon asks, “Tell me.”

You meet his eyes then, and you know your facade has faded. Aegon smiles then, showing all his teeth.

“You haven’t even fucked him, have you?” Aegon asks.

You don’t answer, trying to capture his lips in a kiss. Aegon turns his head from your needy lips.

“You are my good girl,” Aegon tells you, sending fire pooling in your belly.

“Yes,” you whimper, “Yes, I am.”

Aegon kisses you then as a reward, slow and sensual as he thrusts deeply into you. He’s so deep inside you, your denials from earlier spill past your lips.

“You fuck me so well,” you whimper, “No one could fuck me like you.”

You know you might regret the confession, but you can’t find it in you to care at the moment.

“I know baby, love fucking you,” he murmurs against your mouth, “God this pussy, fucking made for me.”

“Fuck yes yes right there-!” you whine as he presses himself into you.

Tears blur your vision as your legs begin to tremble with the promise of your third release.

“Oh god, oh fuck-” you squeak as your third orgasm rips through you, Aegon never slowing his merciless pace all the while.

“So fucking good,” Aegon moans as your pussy clenches, milking his cock until you feel him twitching inside you, the warmth of his release painting your inner walls.

He kisses you slowly and passionately, with his cock still nestled deep inside of you. As he pulls out of your warmth he keeps his arms around you, dragging you to lay across his chest. Your breathing returns to normal, your limbs feeling like jelly as you listen to the steady drumming of his heartbeat.

“You can’t have it both ways, you know,” you tell him, not looking into his eyes.

You expect to feel him tense beneath you, to tell you to stop being jealous. Or dramatic. Or not as easygoing as other situationships. Something Jason would say. Something Jason had said to you.

“You can’t get mad at me for seeing Cregan and then go screw Lydia Tyrell,” you continue, nervously chewing on your lip.

You feel Aegon’s hand on the back of your head, smoothing your hair.

“I know,” he tells you, chest rumbling, “I just wanted to see you sweat a little.”

You lift your face, resting your chin on his chest to look at him. He glances down at you, a sly smile on his face.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re not seeing Lydia?” you ask, heart beating erratically.

Aegon shakes his head and you whack him on the chest.

“Ow!” he says, wincing.

“You’re such a dick!” you tell him and he rolls until he’s on top of you.

He presses his lips to yours and the rude words slip from your mind as his tongue caresses your bottom lip. Aegon presses his body against yours, the weight of him against you bringing a fresh way of arousal to your center.

“I’d like to be seeing you,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as he nips your lower lip, eager for him to sheath himself within you once more.

“Helaena is going to kill us,” you tell him, kissing him back nonetheless.

“We don’t have to tell her,” he murmurs between kisses.

You freeze suddenly, pulling your lips from his.

A secret. You’re going to be a secret. That’s almost worse. Shame twists in your gut, and Aegon senses a shift in your mood as you rise, slipping Cregan’s jersey back over your head and your biker shorts back on.

Aegon sits up slightly, cocking his head.

“What?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“Nothing,” you tell him, running a hand through your hair, “I just have to go.”

“Now?” Aegon asks, his voice breaking into a whine, “Y/N, stay with me-”

“No I have to go,” you insist, grabbing your shoes.

Your tights are ruined, hanging on you in tattered pieces but you don’t care. You need to get out, need to leave before the tears blurring your vision spill over.

Aegon’s brow creases, he stands up taking the bedsheet with him, clutching it against his stomach to cover himself.

“Y/N what did I do?” Aegon asks, concern lacing his tone.

You sigh, hand on the door before forcing a smile on your face and turning to him.

“Nothing. You’re just being Aegon,” you tell him, “Forgot who you were for a minute, it’s all good.”

Pain flashes across his features for a moment and a tear escapes your eye. You wipe it away furiously before pulling his bedroom door open.

“I’ll see you around,” you call, not looking back as the dam within you breaks.

You hurry down the stairs and out of the hockey house into the cold night air, hurrying down the quiet streets of your college campus eager to get back to your apartment.

You can’t help but cry, cursing as you pass a group of drunk girls who stop when they see you, insisting you tell them what’s wrong. Finally, you make it home, walking into your dark apartment. You’re greeted by Baela on your couch, who rises as you enter.

“Y/N-” she says, biting her lip.

“Bae? What's wrong?” you ask.

“Helaena called…her dad…” Bae starts, tears falling, “He passed away tonight.”

Your heart nearly stops beating. You dig mindlessly into your purse for your phone, hands shaking.

8 missed calls.

She tried calling you. For the past hour or so. The entire time you were with Aegon. Guilt pours through your limbs and you’re sobbing earnestly now, Baela holding you against her. There’s one more missed call, more recently, just about ten minutes ago.

Aegon.

note: I hope you enjoyed my loves! Again, don't hate me too much for the angst I truly cannot help myself!

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1-ker0sene-1 · 4 months

Note

❤️❤️ah, I didn't want to dump requests into your inbox in case it came off as "cater more to ME" but if you do take requests.. I've been struggling with serious fatigue and migraines lately (Dr and I have no idea what's causing it) so I've had a hard time dragging myself out of bed and taking care of myself. Which of the cod boys do you think would find ways to help? I think Simon would be gentle but absolute in his caretaking. I bet he would hold me upright in the shower, whereas Gaz would share a bubble bath and order takeout :')

{I hope you get some answers soon anon! And don't be worried about sending requests! I love getting them ♥️}

Personally, I think each of the 141 would have similar yet subtly different approaches.

Price

John is a worrier. Always has been. The man exudes stress when it comes to the ones he loves, especially when they're in pain. He'll bundle you up in some blankets, carry you to the couch and turn down the lights. Letting you rest comfortably.

Without taking his eyes off you, he's probably in the kitchen talking to your doctor on the phone. He wants to know how to help you, not having answers frustrates him.

The rest of the time is about you. He'll get you some migraine medication. He's definitely making you eat a lot of fruit because he read somewhere it helps with headaches. He doesn't want to toss you around, just trying to keep you comfortable.

He also will not tolerate if you feel guilty about being so exhausted.

"You just don't feel good love.. don't you worry about a thing. Just let me take care of you. It's what you deserve."

Gaz

Kyle, dear Lord, will take such good care of you. Like it's second nature. From the moment you wake up, you're held close in his arms. As soon as you stir in pain he'll ask what's going on, pressing kisses to your skin.

You're gonna be pampered the entire day. The room is only lit by some candles, he'll carry you from bed to a warm bath. Stripping down and joining you as well. You won't have to lift a finger, not that he'll let you anyways- definitely not an excuse to wash and play with your hair.

He'll wave you off anytime you say that you feel like you're burdening him.

"You know I like takin' care of you anyways"

He might leave to go get you medicine real quick, probably sits in the tea aisle as well- trying to find something that helps with migraines.

Soap

Johnny, the sweet bastard, kinda takes this to have a lazy day with you. If anyone, he's the one ordering take out with you. Arms wrapped around your waist, kissing on your stomach and snuggling into you.

"my poor wee lass.."

Cooing and doting after you. You aren't getting up even if you want to. He's pulling you right back in bed, whining to not over exert yourself.

"You tell me what you need hen."

And you somewhat have to, he doesn't really know exactly what to do. But he'll do anything you ask of him. Get your medication, get you some water, practically spoon feeds you. Opens the windows to get you some fresh air. If you're cold, well he's right there to warm you up.

Ghost

Simon is more of a watch dog. At your side constantly. If you want up and around, he won't stop you. But the moment you look too exhausted, or wince from your migraine? You're getting scooped up and taken back to bed. He just wants what's best for you.

Anon is right about the shower. He'll hold you up against him, lips pressed to your forehead. Supporting you against his body, mumbling sweet words into your skin as he washes you up. Swaying the both of you slightly together with a deep rumbling hum.

"I'm right here doll.. I'm not leaving ya.."

He mutters. Simon can sometimes be a hard ass, even in your relationship. But when you're hurting like this? He can't have a mean bone in his body. Every little thing you do, you're getting so much praise for it. He knows how tired you are, you're doing so well.

#cod x reader #disabled reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #141 x reader

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heathsbitch · 2 years

Text

PAINKILLER - k.b

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Slight allusion to smut (if you squint), poor proof reading (as usual)

Word Count: 1184

A/N: Hi my lovelies! I know this has been a long time coming so I hope you enjoy. I haven’t written in a while so this might not be one of my best works but there should be more to come in the near future. I hope you enjoy!

Shadows engulfed our bodies, cascaded over our skin as our breath mingled with one another. The cold climate of Ketterdam allowed us to see our breath dance together in the small space between our faces. Short pants left both of us, eyes darting back to the threshold of the alley, anxiously scanning for any Dime Lions who were hunting for us. Yet again, one of Kaz Brekker’s infallible plans (his words directly) had collapsed faster than Jesper trying to resist the call of the cards. Another job gone awry, another pursuit through the murky streets of Ketterdam.

As protocol demanded of us, the other Crows and I had split into pairs in order to escape from the scene of the crime. And, of course, I had to end up with the Bastard of the Barrel himself. It was his fault the job had gone amiss; he had miscalculated how long it would take his deft fingers to pry into the lock of the safe. Ever skilful with his hands, we trusted him blindly. But we were swarmed by Dime Lions before Kaz could bypass the lock, much to everyone’s chagrin. Frustration still clouded my mind as I glared at my boss; his head lent against the damp stone wall of the alley, chest heaving with deep breaths. My eyes followed the sharp lines of his jaw, the shadows that covered us accentuating them. His tongue slipped past the barrier of his thin lips to moisten them before he allowed his eyes a moments rest, a great sigh escaping from his broad chest.

I was desperate to know what was raging through his head; perhaps he shared in my anger at the failure of a job, or maybe he held no remorse at all, merely considering the next job he’d send us on. My theories were soon discarded however, as I saw him move a singular gloved hand to his stomach, his breaths still deep but more controlled. Despite the fact that Kaz and I would often bicker and bite at one another, I was one of his most trusted compatriots; and I knew what most did not. The truth about his childhood, the demons that threatened to drag him into the depths of the water where his brother resided, the bile that promised to rise from his throat if he were to come into contact with another human being.

I pushed my back harder against the alley wall, trying to distance myself from my boss in a desperate attempt to provide him with some relief. Either my effort went unnoticed, or he didn’t care, for the next words that came from his mouth were, “Stop staring.”

“I’m not staring.” I was quick to respond, pressing myself further against the wall in another futile attempt to widen the space between us. “Then what are you doing?” His eyes were back on me, scanning me; ice following every slight movement of my face, every twitch of my lips, searching for the truth as if it were about to appear written on my forehead. “Checking for injuries,” I simply replied, my talents as not only a Grisha, but a healer, had been put to use countless times after jobs had gone astray. Or Jesper had ended up pissing off some poor soul that ended in a bar fight neither wanted. He merely hummed as a response before his eyes went back to the opening of the alley, scouting for Dime Lions again.

The sun had begun to set on Ketterdam, more and more people filtered onto the streets; laughter, smells of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol had started to float among the airwaves. Night was falling, the streets growing more crowded by the second, filled with inhabitants desperate for some form of sin. “We should move.” I suggested, fidgeting with my hands. Discomfort still lurked between us, “We can’t risk moving, not yet. We need to stay low,” He ran a hand through his dark hair, the strands slipping through his fingers as they found their place against his forehead. Kaz shifted on his feet, and I could see he was trying to think of his next move, planning a way for us to escape from the alley without being cornered by the Lions.

“Come here.” He muttered; words barely eligible over the sounds of various forms of pleasure that had crowded the streets of Ketterdam. “Excuse me?” To say I was shocked at his declaration would have been an understatement. The man in front of me nodded towards the opening of the alley, directing my attention to couples that had chosen that space to indulge in one another. Hands wandered against bodies, mouths collided with mouths, “If the Dime Lions come looking for us here, all they’ll find is people enjoying each other.” He had taken a step closer to me, no longer leaning his back against the dame alley wall. “But Kaz...” I tried to protest, thinking of the demons that were lurking behind his cold eyes.

He reached a gloved hand towards mine and pulled it towards him, more specifically his stomach. “Try.” I knew what he meant; we had mentioned it in passing before but had never got the chance to try it. I had proposed the idea that perhaps my abilities as a Corporalki could ease the nausea that filled him every time he came into contact with someone else. My eyes slipped shut as my fingers flexed, trying to find the pain that lurked within him; his hand remained wrapped around my wrist, pushing my fingers harder against himself. Even through the multiple layers of clothing, I could feel his muscles taut and tensing under my touch.

A whimper of relief left Kaz’s thin lips as he threw his head back once more, “Fuck.” It was working. I looked at the man in front of me as I continued to work at his pain. His eyes found me, “Kiss me.” He whispered. Unsure of whether the sudden urge for intimacy was to keep up the rouse of a couple, or if it came as a result of his new-found relief, I obliged his request.

Tentatively, I let my lips find his. Another moan came from Kaz, this time more guttural and primal. His hips pushed into mine, my back hitting the wall of the alley. His gloved fingers slid around my waist as the once-gentle kiss deepened. Our teeth collided, tongues dancing, hips grinding into one another. The surprise that filled my mind at his request had slowly begun to sink away, instead replaced by another feeling. One of hunger, of lust, for the Bastard of the Barrel, the very same Bastard who refused to come within an inch of another human being if he had the choice. The very same Bastard whose mouth was connected to mine, whose hands wondered the softer parts of my body, aimlessly grabbing and squeezing at the flesh. He was a man starved; a tortured man who had finally found relief, and was desperate to work out the frustrations that had amassed within his body.

You can find my other Kaz writings in my Masterlist.

#painkiller #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker smut #freddy carter imagine #freddy carter smut #shadow and bone #six of crows #imagine #smut #angst #fluff #fic

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dreamingcloudie · 1 year

Text

❛❛ Safe and Sound ❜❜

✎ ❛❛ Everything is okay now, my dear. ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x GN!Reader

Genre/Format: Fluff (oneshot)

Warning(s): Use of Dottore's (speculated) real name

wc: ~1.7k

Notes: Thank you anons for requesting!! 💕💕💕 I hope softie Dottore is right up your alley for comfort <33

“No…” You muttered to yourself as you stepped out of the place you worked at.

The snow on the ground was thicker than it was this morning, which meant it would be a bit more time consuming to navigate through. You usually wouldn’t mind it any other day, but during a snowstorm? Without bringing an extra coat? Might as well stay at an inn nearby…

Actually, scratch that idea. You couldn’t.

You wouldn’t.

After what the gods decided to put you through today, all you wanted was to go back to the comfort of your cozy home. To go back to the loving arms of your husband. It would be a tiring walk but the thought of seeing him invigorated you.

As you braced yourself and began the long walk through the unforgiving snow, you told yourself this would be the last unfortunate event the world would throw at you. Surely, whoever was pulling these cruel jokes on you would spare you since you’ve been through a lot already today, right?

After what felt like hours of your legs begging you to stop moving, you finally made it to the palace and the quarters your husband resided in. Judging by this hour of time, he was probably in his lab.

But when you got there, the red light above the doors was on and you could hear something clashing in there.

Hm, it seems like he is busy right now… You thought.

He did say that you were an exception if you needed him. Though, you would feel bad for interrupting his work so you went to your shared bedroom instead. You went in and nudged the door to close. it didn’t fully shut, however. Leaving a tiny gap.

Everything felt so heavy on your shoulders today…

The moment your body met the bed, all the feelings that were bottled up before now bursted. You laid your face against the pillow, trying to drown out your muffled cries.

This day just couldn’t get any worse, could it?

One of the segments—Beta, was just going to carry out his task when he saw you through the gap, he was about to go in and greet you but he could hear the choked sobs. He began to panic and told Delta who was with him to go get Prime. Knocking on the door softly, he alerted you of his presence.

You shot up from the bed, still clinging onto the pillow as he went over to you. He didn’t know what to do or say when you were sad, but he didn't want to just leave you alone. So he just went with standing there awkwardly while patting you on the back instead.

A few minutes later, Delta came back with the person you wanted to see the most.

Zandik, your dear husband.

When he arrived, both of his segments left, not before giving you one last pat on the back.

As the door closed, Zandik walked over to where you were, taking his mask off and setting a glass of water down onto the nightstand before taking a seat next to you. While you were trying to quiet down your sniffles with your face still in the pillow, his first thoughts were "did someone dare to hurt you?"

He had already thought of a million different ways of what to do to whoever bastard hurt you.

But his thoughts to exact revenge faded away when he observed your shaking figure, he couldn't find any signs of physical injuries on you. To which he was a bit relieved.

There goes one of his ways to skin someone alive…

When you calmed down enough, he finally opened his mouth.

"What happened?"

You raised your head up to face him, your eyes were puffy and red, your mouth was trembling.

"I… it sounds silly but, it's just…"

You tried to find the words you wanted to say.

"I don't know… today has been horrible. I somehow managed to trip myself twice, I was late to work, I accidentally lost an important document and got yelled at, I—" A sneeze surged through before you could continue your sentence.

You flopped your hands down onto the pillow, clinging onto it.

"And now I might be sick because I walked through a freaking snowstorm home…"

Throughout your rant, Zandik was just sitting there, nodding along as he listened to you intently.

"I see… oh you poor thing," he said, his brows frowned apologetically.

"I'm sorry that I interrupted your work... maybe you should—"

"No, you are far more important than my work." He stated sternly, cutting you off.

His darling was sad and he wanted to do whatever he could to comfort you, but he had zero clue when it came to comforting someone.

He still wanted to try though.

So much like Beta, he opted to give you an awkward side hug instead, rubbing his thumb against your shoulder in a soothing way as he got lost in his thoughts.

You very much appreciated your husband's attempt at trying to make you feel better, and let out an airy laugh at how he was still a stranger to this.

He stood up and took the glass of water from the nightstand, handing it to you.

"Here, it's best to stay hydrated after crying."

You took it after muttering a "thank you." Taking a sip as you watched him going into the bathroom connected to your room, soon the sound of a faucet turning on and running water filled your ear.

Then he came back out and opened the bedroom door, calling a segment over and whispered something in his ear. Delta nodded his head eagerly before carrying out the order Prime gave out.

What is he doing? You tilted your head.

Closing the door shut, he went back to the bathroom and turned the faucet off.

He came back to where you were and took the glass out of your hand, placing it back on the nightstand.

"Come with me, my dear. I believe a warm bath could soothe those tense muscles of yours," he said. Taking your hands with his and leading you to the bathroom.

He let go of your hand and began to take his clothes off, while you just stood there with your eyes closed, taking in the heat the hot bath gave off.

When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see Zandik was already in the bathtub waiting for you.

He let out an amused laugh when you hurried to take yours off before going to join him.

You sat with your back leaning against his toned chest, your hand gently tracing the scars he had on his arms. It was mostly silent with only the sound of water moving around slightly, though the both of you didn't mind it.

It was too relaxing and your eyes were starting to get heavy. Before you could fall asleep in the bath. Zandik gently nudged you awake.

"I know you wanted to sleep, but we wouldn't want you to drown now, would we?" He chuckled.

The water was getting cold anyway, so the both of you decided to get out of the bathtub and dried yourselves.

When you exited the bathroom with clean clothes on, there was a bag full of your comfort snacks on the ground, along with a… weird metal box?

Ah, it seemed like these were the things Zandik told Delta to get.

You pointed at the weird box and asked, "What's that?"

"That's a device I've been working on for quite some time now. To put it in simple terms, it is built for entertainment and you can watch moving pictures on it." He explained.

Moving pictures? That's new.

He put some pillows and blankets down onto the ground, building a tiny little fort before urging you to go in and told you to munch on some snacks.

Flicking the switch on, the front of the box was now displaying some gray and white dots. He took another much smaller box, with a label on it that said "comedy" and put it into the opening.

He then scooted into the fort with you, lying beside you with his chin in his hand.

As you waited in anticipation, Theta and Omega appeared on it, causing you to gasp a little.

"Oh my— are they trapped in there?"

"No, no, they aren't. Just wait and see." He told you, grinning a little.

"Ahem," Omega cleared his throat, his voice projected through the metal box.

"Uh, okay, let's see…" Theta muttered and looked at a piece of paper, presumably a script.

"Aha! Omega! What did the fish say when it swam into the wall?"

Omega sighed a bit, a scowl was apparent on the bottom half of his face.

"What."

"Dam!"

Some snickers could be heard from the box and Omega groaned.

You couldn't help but a little smile appeared on you as you watched his reaction.

"Okay, okay. What did the ocean say to another? Theta grinned, a contrast to Omega's gritted teeth.

"Nothing, they waved." Theta finished the joke off while snorting at how horrible these were.

You began to laugh a little as well at how stupid, and yet amusing this was.

You were focused on the "television" which was the name of the device, your husband told you a while later.

He smiled to himself in triumph at how hard you were laughing, and that he got to see your happy self again. His favorite expression of yours.

It's been a few hours since you've been watching the segments' shenanigans and your eyes were starting to get droopy again.

As your eyes fully closed, you leaned onto Zandik's arm as support and let your sleepiness took over you.

He noticed how your body went limp and slowly got himself up, careful not to wake you and picked you up, laying you down onto the bed gently.

Turning the television off, he got the pillows and blankets back onto the bed. Lifting your head up a little to slip a pillow underneath before getting in and joining you.

He had his arms wrapped around you protectively, keeping you safe and sound in his hold and hoped for a better day for you when tomorrow came.

Before he could fall asleep however, he could feel you moving in his arms. And a little peck was placed onto his cheek.

"Thank you for making me feel better today… I love you."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x yn #dottore #genshin impact #dottore x reader #dottore x y/n #dottore x you #genshin dottore #il dottore #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui #fatui harbinger #fatui harbingers

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edosianorchids901 · 5 months

Text

Hug Quota

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "the last hug"

Crowley barely managed two steps before he immediately had to stop again. He sighed, looking down. “Are you serious right now? How many hugs have you had today?”

Daisy the duck, Aziraphale’s favorite, quacked inquisitively.

“No.” Crowley tried to step around her, and she hopped right on top of his boot. “Oh, come on! I’ve gotta go inside, it’s getting dark and Aziraphale’s probably done with dinner by now. He’s gonna worry about me if I don’t show.”

Daisy quacked.

“Gah! Fine. You’re a little monster, you know that?” Crowley bent down and scooped the duck up again. He squeezed her briefly to his chest, then set her down again. “Okay. You’re done. I’ve gotta head in.”

He made it one step closer to the cottage before she got in front of him again. This time, she didn’t stop, though. She waddled around him in circles, quacking insistently.

“You are worse than Aziraphale,” Crowley snapped, crossing his arms. “At least he doesn’t tackle me for a million hugs in a row. He actually respects my personal space.”

Daisy definitely did not respect Crowley’s personal space. She climbed on his boots again, pressing against his shins, and looked up with big needy eyes.

“Don’t give me that! I get enough of that look from Aziraphale.” Sighing, Crowley picked Daisy up, hugged her again, and turned around to put her behind him. “There. Stay.”

Daisy didn’t stay. Crowley had barely even lifted his foot off the ground this time before she was in front of him again, quacking wildly.

“No,” Crowley said, as stern as he could manage. “No more hugs.”

Quack

“You’ve hit your hug quota for the day.”

Quack

Long suffering, Crowley closed his eyes and heaved another sigh. It looked like he had no choice.

“Okay. One more hug,” he snapped, scooping Daisy up. “But this is the last one!”

He hugged her for a little longer this time, swaying slightly from side to side. She tucked her head into his neck, and he smiled even though he was thoroughly done being crowded for the day. He’d never liked being touched too much. But she was just too cute for him to resist her demands, a quality she shared with Aziraphale.

Which made it all the worse when Crowley looked up to see Aziraphale beaming at him out the kitchen window.

“Oh no. Nononono.” Crowley quickly shoved Daisy back to the grass. This time, her hug needs apparently fulfilled, she waddled off to visit her friends. “Angel, don’t you get any ideas!”

He’d shouted loud enough to be heard, and he could see Aziraphale losing himself to laughter. Bastard. Absolute bloody bastard.

Snarling, Crowley stormed to the cottage. He wrenched the door open and found Aziraphale already waiting for him in the entryway. “Gah! How did you get here so fast?”

“Just a teensy little miracle.” Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled with tears of mirth, and he seemed to be on the verge of doubling over with laughter again. Crowley glared at him. “So. For all your grumbling about the ducks being underfoot and bumping into you too often, it turns out that you’re really… what’s that lovely little phrase? A soft touch?”

“Shut up,” Crowley muttered, cheeks hot. “And don’t think that means you can con me into extra hugs. I’m gonna explode if I have to do another hug right now. I already did the last hug of the day.”

“That’s quite all right, dear boy. You can hug me tomorrow.” Aziraphale beamed at him, and Crowley relaxed a little. Aziraphale was a bastard, yes, but he was better at respecting boundaries than ducks were. “Do you feel like holding hands as we go into dinner, though? Just for a minute?”

Aziraphale wiggled his fingers temptingly, eyes big and needy. And luckily, Crowley didn’t find holding hands nearly as overwhelming as hugs.

“Just for a minute,” he warned, taking Aziraphale’s hand in a loose hold, one that didn’t make him too twitchy. “And then I need a break.”

“As you say, my dear.” Aziraphale smiled at him as they went to the dining room. “Besides, later I can entertain myself by admiring the sweet picture I took of you hugging Daisy.”

Crowley gave him a horrified look. “Nonono, you didn’t.”

Aziraphale smiled even more brightly. “I did.”

“You bastard!”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #ducks #art #queerplatonic aziraphale/crowley

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marigolddove · 1 year

Text

Love Begins With Murder, Believe it or Not.

Part One

This is a request from @yandere-dark-cupid, I'm sure you intended for this to be a one-shot...buuuuut I got super carried away because I L O V E mafia/mob AUs. They're my favorite all around and I just couldn't help myself, especially when you said you wanted a sweet civilian that's my jam. So, yeah this is part One for now, I'm thinking this is gonna end up being 3 parts minimum with how it's going and I will tag you in all 3, thanks for the request it was so much fun to plan and write and I hope you're happy with it!

Warnings: Blood and violence at the start, bit of torture and mentions of murder. Only at the very start though.

💀♥️💀

If Wally Darling could only choose two qualities he hates most in this world he would choose dishonesty and disloyalty. Both of which this sorry bastard strapped to a chair in his office have. Wally didn't need to watch to know Barnaby was doing his job and doing it well, making this insignificant waste of air scream and wheeze through his gag.

He had more important things to focus on anyhow, like his craft for one. Having grown bored of reading recent reports and approving deals with neighboring rival groups, he turned to what he really loved most: art.

Sure now it was only a hobby compared to his full time job of running his family, but in his younger years it was his passion; his reason to get out of bed each morning and breathe. He's become weary and disappointed by his lack of motivation and inspiration as of late. There was a time when no one could pull him away from an easel or a sketch book for hours; but now, even with the tension and emotions bouncing around the room from this well deserved "lesson" he couldn't fully immerse himself in his work.

At a particularly loud and strangled cry from the now ex-member of his family, Wally growled and scribbled through his current piece so violently the paper ripped; then tossed the sketchbook and pencil haphazardly onto his desk. He finally turned his attention to Barnaby and his victim.

Barnaby, having heard his friend's frustration through the gasping breaths of some no-name newbie who crossed Eddie and Frank, immediately fixed his attention onto Wally.

"Everything alright boss?"

"Just peachy." Wally sneered sarcastically, clasping his hands tightly together on his desk, "I believe I'm now tired of our session, you can take him and finish this up elsewhere, please? Oh, and on your way out get Julie for me."

Barnaby immediately unstrapped the man from the chair and threw his weak, limp body over his shoulder, "Sure thing boss, I won't take up more of your time; but I'll be around if ya' need me." He moved to grab the bloodied and soiled chair, but stopped when Wally waved dismissively.

"No need for that, leave the chair and the mess, I'll have someone else clean that. Thank you Barnaby, be safe." Barnaby nodded and with that left the now slightly dank office.

Now alone for a moment, Wally leaned back into his leather seat and sighed, typically he wouldn't have these sessions in his office but this had been a…special occasion. A heat of the moment call if you will.

You see, that man had been new to the family, very new. He had yet to learn just how important family really is to Mr. Darling, but when he put the lives of Eddie and Frank into danger well…now he knew. All could have been forgiven had he shown a bit of sympathy and care for his new found family, but all he seemed to care about was his wallet. Selling personal information about individual members of the family to rival groups or reporters, one of those stories being about Eddie and Frank.

Wally has never frowned upon interpersonal relationships, in fact he had encouraged it. Afterall, love is a beautiful and wonderful thing and he was so pleased it had been found in his friends. It was just such a shame that others didn't seem to share his sentiments on the matter.

Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to correct any loose curled strands that fell into his face and onto his ears during his episode moments before, using any residual hair product still in his hair to hold them back in place. He began to straighten his posture and his desk at the sound of heel'd footsteps against the hardwood floors of the hall outside his door.

Soon in walked Julie, dressed in a very fine magenta three-piece suit, a black criss-cross bow tie, classic black heels and her hair curled and pinned back to perfection; jewelry accenting her manicured hands. Wally felt a swell of pride and admiration towards Julie's sense of confidence and style.

"Well, don't you look fierce today my friend." He started warmly at her entrance, she beamed at his compliment; only briefly glancing at the bloody mess at the center of his office before seemingly losing interest and turning her attention back to him.

"I woke up feeling fierce, so I just had to go all out today," she states as she moves to stand in front of his desk, hands on her hips, "so," she glances at the distressed art book still on his desk, "Barnaby said you needed to see me?"

"Yes, I just sent him to take care of that…problem we were having, and it occured to me that the problem had a romantic partner. A young woman by the name of…" he examined a note he wrote for himself, "Ah, Allison Forester."

A look of understanding flashed across Julie's face, "You need me to take care of her?" She was surprised when he shook his head.

"No, no that won't be necessary. Our message will be clear soon enough, and there was never any evidence she was involved in his little scheme." His face turned a bit sour at the end before reverting back to neutral, "No, I want to send her flowers as an apology for his mess and for my rash actions." He sounded anything but apologetic, in fact he smiled just a tiny bit when calling his actions 'rash'.

"Oh, okay, sure thing sir. Any types of flowers in particular?" She knew Wally was very detail oriented and wanted to be sure he was giving her full creative liberties.

He waved dismissively, "No, just something pretty, that's all for now. You're dismissed, be safe." Turning his attention back to the art book, Julie knew he was now ignoring her; but she didn't take it to heart, he never meant anything by it, that's just how he was. Quick and to the point, and once the point was over he was done with it entirely.

—————————

Julie closed the office door behind her as she strutted her way back out into the main area of the building, the building they're in used to be strictly an office building, but since it fell into Wally's hands it was almost like an art studio where business happened to be held. He had completely renovated the building, still keeping some of the office spaces (not all of them were used as such however) but also turning part of the building into his own private home and space. They had more official places of business elsewhere, this one was just for comfort, for him to be himself.

Only the closest of family members were allowed to work here, the most trusted and beloved; because Wally does love them, even with his business facade and too-cool-for-you appearance she never doubted his love for her and the others. How could she when they're family?

Julie decided she wouldn't leave until she could say goodbye to Frank and Eddie, they were her two closest friends in and out of the organization, and she knew that the recent news of betrayal had hit Frank hardest. Behind their serious and uncaring demnor hid a very emotional individual only she and Eddie really got to see.

It didn't take very long to find them and when she did she nearly hesitated, they were having a moment together and seemed to be having a very serious conversation. Together they sat on a velvet bench in front of a few art pieces Wally had completed, their fingers were interlocked as they faced once another. It seemed so pure and intimate, she nearly turned to leave until Eddie spotted her out of the corner of his eyes and offered her a soft smile and silently waved her over.

When she reached the two she immediately pulled them both into a tight hug, "I'm so sorry, everything's gonna be okay, Wally will take care of this. I know he will." The two hugged her back just as tight.

"Thank you, Julie. We're grateful for the support." Said Eddie, his southern charm as endearing as ever. She felt Frank nod against her shoulder and sniff a little.

She pulled back and with as big of a smile as she could manage, Frank made it a little hard though, her poor friend's face was tear stained and eyes a bit redder than normal. They'd definitely been crying, and looking at Eddie she found unshed tears locked in his eyes and his face more flushed than usual. Good riddance to that idiot, whatever his name had been.

She'd never been the violent or hateful sort, usually charasmatic and subtle, but if Wally or Barnaby had refused to do something about that guy…well, she had no doubts she would have taken him herself.

"So where does Wally have you going?" Eddie asks, changing subject, a knowing look in his eyes. He was a sharp character, so she didn't have to ask how he knew Wally had given her a task.

"I'm glad you asked, he's asked me to pick up flowers for a lady, I wanted your advice on a good shop for it. He wants them pretty." Eddie raised a brow at her and she chuckled, "Not that kinda lady, I'm afraid. It's for the…uh, girlfriend of the scum bag."

"I'm surprised he's sending her anything but a death threat." Frank says.

"Yeah, well boss says she didn't have nothin' to do with what went down. She's just a civilian caught up in it."

Frank nods while Eddie gets this excited look in his eyes, "Oh! I know just the place, hold on," he shifts and reaches into his back pocket to pull out a nice leather wallet, he takes out a small business card and hands it to Julie, "This place is really good at making bouquets, one of the employees there is a real charmer. Name's Y/N, (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. They're an artist when it comes to flowers, I swear." He said with a bright smile on his face, before turning a bit sheepish as the tips of his ears turned red, "I, uh, used to go there a lot back when I would get flowers for Frank." He admits.

Frank practically has hearts in their eyes as they gaze lovingly at Eddie and his bashful face, Julie giggles at how cute they are together. They truly deserved the happiness they found in one another.

"Well then, this is where I'll go then! How can I say no when you give such a sparkling review?" She teases, looking over the card and memorizing the address before tucking it into her pocket, "If I tell them your name will I get a discount?" She joked, but suddenly Eddie got a look of realization on his face.

"Ya know what? You actually might! Y/N owes me a bit of a favor, so you just tell her Eddie Dear sent ya and I'm sure she'll do something for ya." Both Julie and Frank gave him a questioning look so he continued, "There was a big ol' spider in there the last time I went, poor thing was absolutely terrified, sitting on the counter and staring at it. So, I killed it for them and they gave me an IOU, they wanted to give me my flowers for the day free of charge, but I refused." He explained with a shrug and a sweet smile.

"Flowers probably won't be too expensive and it's on Wally's dollar so I'm not really worried about it, but I'll still tell them you said 'hi'."

"Please do!"

Julie turned to leave, but not before giving one more tight hug to Frank, rubbing their back soothingly. They return the hug just as tightly.

"Be safe, and come back soon…I think I wanna talk to you alone later. I have a lot on my mind." Frank whispers into her ear, although Eddie might've heard it. He didn't speak on it.

She pats their back, "Sure thing, bestie."

With that she ends the hug and waved as she leaves the room, leaving the two as they embrace one another and continue speaking 'I love you's in hushed tones.

—————————

The flower shop is only 15 minutes from Wally's "home", and even though she recognizes the strip its located in, she's certain she's never noticed the shop before. It's surrounded by restaurants and a bakery, but now that she's noticed it she can appreciate just how cute it looks. It's small and the sign is elegant while the actual building itself is colorful compared to the rest surrounding it. It's actually so colorful she wonders how she's never noticed it before.

She enters the establishment with a ring from the bell hanging just above the door signaling her entrance, the inside is a bit more simple compared to the outside, mostly natural woods and white paint while the flowers brought the room to life with their vibrancy and colors. To her right she sees a (e/c) and (h/c) employee, just as Eddie had described.

You jump up from a stool you had been sitting on behind the counter with the register. Greeting her with a bright, relaxed smile.

"Oh! Hello, welcome, my name is Y/N. Is there any type of flower you're looking for in particular today?"

"Hello, my name is Julie. Julie Joyful, how do you do?" She asks cooly, approaching the counter and outstretching her hand, your smile somehow becomes even more dazzling at her introduction and greeting.

"I'm doing well actually, thank you for asking."

Julie reaches into her pocket and pulls out the business card holding it up, "I got your card from Eddie, he says hello and that you're quite the florist." You move out from behind the counter with a gasp, still smiling.

"Oh! Eddie sent you? Does he need more flowers for that friend of his? I thought for sure he would've won them over by now!" You laugh.

"Nope, he only recommended you, I'm here for another friend of mine actually." Julie corrects, a smirk growing on her lips, "Oh, and that friend has certainly been won over. They're so cute it's sickening."

"Oh I knew it! I had a good feeling about him, I don't always have a good feeling about every customer who comes in, but he was definitely one of the sweetest. Definitely a lot of love in his heart, for sure." You say as you approach a table next to the counter, readying some wrapping and bows/ties, "So, this friend of yours," you start with a lilt, "Are they a friend, or a friend." Julie laughs at your teasing insinuation.

"A friend, and the flowers are actually for a funeral…kinda." You immediately drop a pair of scissors you pulled out of a drawer onto the table, turning with a look of horror on your face.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so casual and I shouldn't ha–" Julie laughs, interrupting your hurried apology.

"No worries, it wasn't anyone close to me or to him. It's more of a courtesy thing, I guess."

A bit of color returns to your face as you visibly relax, realizing you hadn't offended Julie. Even so, next time no funny business!

"Well is there any particular message you'd like to send using the flowers? Or do you just want a bundle of the same type of flower? White lilies are very popular for funerals, although they're also great for weddings and symbolize purity, and then there's marigold's. They're a bit deceiving, because while they look bright and sunny they really represent mourning and grief."

Julie took a moment to examine the flowers filling the room, "You can also just choose whatever is prettiest to you, all flowers have special meanings and can be a sentence all on their own, but not everyone cares too much for that as long as they're pretty." You continue, not focused on Julie so much as you browsed the flowers, mentally comparing combinations in your head.

"I'll let you decide, Eddie said you're like an artist when it comes to flowers, so I'll trust you know what you're doing." You hum in response to let Julie know you heard her.

"You said the flowers aren't for anyone close, but are they a friend or family?"

"Family…kind of, I guess. They're for the girlfriend of a distant recently deceased family member."

"Ah, so like you said, a courtesy bouquet."

You take a moment to decide, then you immediately set to work, three types of flower should be enough, a short sweet message, "Coral rose, marigold and blue salvia." You say as you expertly cut the appropriate amount of each flower.

"What would that mean?" Julie asks, watching as you move the flowers to the table and clip leaves from the stems.

"Coral roses can mean friendship and modesty, but in this case it means sympathy. Marigolds, as I said, mean mourning and grief; while blue salvia means 'thinking of you'." You explain softly as you arrange and wrap the flowers gently in a neutral paper; then finally tying it together with a matching cord.

"So essentially I'm trying to tell her: 'You're on my mind and I sympathize with your grief.' short and sweet."

Julie smiles as you turn around and hand her the finished bouquet, it's more colorful than she would've thought a mourning bouquet is supposed to look, but it is pretty just like Wally requested and it has the meaning, "Perfect!".

You smile, pleased that she likes it, before moving behind the counter to ring her up; but then you remember that Eddie recommended her…you do owe him a favor. Maybe this was his favor?

"So how much do I owe ya?"

"Nothing, it's on the house, this time."

She looks up from the flowers to make eye contact, "You sure? They can't be that expensive, I don't mind paying, it's outta my buddy's wallet anyway."

"It isn't that expensive, which is why I don't mind letting this one go. It's for a good cause and I owe Eddie, I don't know if I'm calling this his one favor, but it's nice to do something nice for someone else." Julie smiles at your kindness.

"How about I just pay half then? Just consider it a special discount." That sounded like good middle ground.

You agreed to her compromise, charging her only fifteen dollars, "Thank you for your business, have a wonderful day and I hope your friend approves of the flowers!"

Julie thanked you for your help and waved goodbye before leaving the store and returning to her vehicle, delicately carrying the bouquet.

I am already working on Part Two now!

#welcome home #Wally Darling #Wally Darling x reader #Mafia!Wally Darling #Mob!Wally Darling #Mafia!AU #Violence #Julie Joyful #Eddie x Frank #fanfic

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chiriwritesstuff · 6 months

Text

Meet Me at the Farmers Market - 5. Stay

A Farmers Market! Joel AU x Confident! Plus Sized! F! Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one-shots.

Chapter Rating: E, MDNI (18+)

Word Count: 1.7 K

Warnings: Smut, all of the smut, and all of the bells and whistles that come with it, Joel is an eager lover, (not so) secret lovers, Sunflower is falling deep, mentions of body image issues, relationship anxiety

Summary: Remember when Sarah mentioned on Thanksgiving about that time she caught Joel sneaking someone into the house late at night? This story takes place before pt. 4.

A/N: Hey guys, this is somewhat of a more serious one this week, as it touches upon feelings of inadequacy and body image issues that Sunflower has. As exciting as secret relationships can be, it also can bring out the ugly side of ourselves, especially when the pressure of being and looking a certain way weighs heavily on someone. I know I’ve been there, many times.

I felt like I had to mention relationship anxiety as a necessary evil but fret not - I don’t intend this series to be angsty so let’s just get over this hurdle, and I promise more Miller family hijinks next week!

The digital clock on the dashboard blinks 11:03 pm, your van discreetly parked a couple of streets away from Joel's place. Letting out a sigh, you fish your phone from your purse, firing off a quick text to Joel that you've made it and will be there in a minute.

Okay, baby. Be careful, okay? he replies instantly.

It's cold in Austin this time of the year.

The stroll from your van to Joel's is quick. You wrap your arms around yourself, hurrying along, your heart pulsing with anticipation for the night ahead.

Joel's already waiting outside, his broad silhouette against the harsh glow of the streetlamp illuminating his presence onto the pavement of his driveway. You smile instinctively at the sight of him, a nervous energy coursing through your veins in excitement. It's been a few weeks, but it still feels so new, this thing that you have with him.

You didn't imagine finding yourself in this situation, approaching your boyfriend's house and trying to stealthily navigate past his meddlesome daughter, fast asleep across the hall. It was Joel's suggestion, of course - I don't bring many women around, he mentioned one night during dinner, reaching for your hand across the table and planting the softest of kisses against your skin. I don't know how she's gonna react, you know? With her old man dating, he adds.

"... besides, I don't need her telling Tommy and he being a smug bastard about it."

You laugh to yourself at the ridiculousness of it, finding it so endearing that he worries about how his family would react to bringing another person into the fold, trying to navigate the dynamics of this new and exciting thing, so unexpected it must have come out of left field. I just want to keep you for myself for now, ok? I'm not ready to share you just yet. It emboldens you, somehow - thinking that Joel just wants you, and you alone - without the bells and whistles and the balant meddling. You try to push down the feelings of self-doubt that come with the territory of being someone's secret, the whole notion of it leaving you feeling a little dirty, your mind immediately going there, going to that place in the back of your mind where men break your heart because you're just too big, too much, all at once.

Joel's not like other men, though, you tell yourself. He would never make you feel that way, not ever.

He smiles as you approach him, his feet padding over to you as he kisses you.

"Hi, baby."

He silently motions shh as he quietly opens his front door, grabbing your hand as he tiptoes against the wood floors, your feet matching his step by step as he makes his way up the stairs, stopping as he reaches the top, his head darting towards Sarah's bedroom door, your breath caught in your throat as you wait for the all-clear. He turns his head back slightly towards you, nodding silently as he rushes to the safety of his bedroom, pulling you excitedly through the threshold, and releasing your hand as he silently closes his door behind you.

You're in his arms not a second later, his face illuminated by the moonlight streaming from his bedroom window. He tips his head, resting it against yours as he moves you, stepping side by side, a silent dance as he kisses you in the darkness of his room, his hands sliding up from your waist to your hips, traveling lower until he grasps the slope of your ass, his hands harshly squeezing as he silently groans into your mouth, the rumble of his chest so deep you feel it in your core, your underwear already soaked through.

"I missed you, baby. I missed this," he says, squeezing your ass once more.

"Bed, Joel," you reply, walking backward until your thighs hit the edge of the mattress, setting yourself down as Joel stands before you. You slowly unbutton the front of your dress, sliding the material off of your shoulders, your chest bare as you forgone a bra, knowing Joel doesn’t care for them, enjoying the weight of your heavy breasts resting on your chest. You’re left only in your lace thong, Joel licking his lips and smiling in satisfaction.

You know what to do, baby, he smiles as he peers down at you, his eyes traveling down the slope of your throat to the tops of your breasts, making his way down to the v between your thighs. "Lay back and spread those legs for me," he says, his eyes darkening. You silently nod in response, your teeth grazing your bottom lip as he looks on, his hand grabbing his length through the fabric of his pajama bottoms.

You rest your hands behind you on the bed, slowly sliding yourself back onto his sheets, your eyes locked on his as you shimmy your ass, slowly spreading your legs apart as Joel drops to his knees, his hooded eyes lowering as you present yourself to him. "Fuck, baby, you're soaked," he says in awe, glancing at you as he slowly pushes your panties aside, his fingers delicately stroking your slit. You can't help the satisfied moan that escapes your lips.

"You need to be quiet for me, ok?" He whispers against your core.

He makes quick work of removing your thong, tossing it from behind as you silently giggle, arching your back as the flat of his tongue reaches your folds. You gasp, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling it as he sucks on your clit. “Right THERE, Joel, FUCK.” You whisper - you swear you feel his smug smile on your pussy, devouring you once more as he slides in a finger, your pussy clenching it immediately as he fucks you, adding another as he increases the pace.

"Come for me, Sunflower. Come for me before I give you my cock. "

“Oh-“ you gasp, your body trembling as you begin to flutter on his fingers, Joel keeping a steady pace as he licks and sucks on your clit and your folds. You're so gone for this man it's insane - it's how he's able to make you feel things you never thought you possibly could, how easy it was to lose yourself in a man who worships you completely, regarding you like a piece of fine art in a museum. No man has ever wanted you like Joel does - unconditionally, just as you are - stretch marks and cellulite and your soft tummy be dammed. "Don't you dare change a thing, baby", he warns you. Not a damn thing.

He hooks his fingers inside of you, your mouth open as you silently scream in pleasure, your body burning and lit like a furnace, static coursing through your veins as you ride out your high against his fingers. He pulls his fingers out slowly, your slick glistening in the darkness of his room, against the moonlight that’s shining in. “Fuck baby, that was so good,” you breathe, smiling at no one as your move your body against the cold of his sheets.

Joel stands, pushing your body upwards on the bed as he settles in between your thighs, your legs spreading wider as you accommodate him. He lowers himself as he hungrily bites on a nipple, his tongue licking it to soothe the pain, his lips traveling up your chest to the length of your neck, placing wet kisses along the way.

He hurriedly pulls down his pajama bottoms, freeing his aching cock, flushed red and thick, sliding it against the wet of your slit. “You ready, baby?”

You nod as he slides himself to the hilt, gasping into his mouth as he waits for your pussy to adjust to his thickness. "Fuck, baby, how is it always this good?" He mumbles to himself as he slowly starts to move, sliding out to the tip, then sliding back in, to the base, the heaviness of his balls slapping against your ass. “You’re so deep, Joel,” grasping his arms as he fucks you, burying his face into your neck as he groans into your ear.

“Fuck, keep going, I’m going to-“

"Come with me, baby, I’m so close…"

He lifts your hips as he fucks you into the mattress, the subtle shift hitting you deep, so deep that you swear you feel it against your womb. "Fuck, Sunflower, I can’t get enough, I can’t believe you let me fuck you like this, you’re my secret… fuck, if they only knew-"

“I love being your secret, baby. I love being only yours, Joel.”

"Oh FUCK-" he whispers harshly, grasping your ass, his fingers bruising your skin as he empties himself as he comes with you, his cum hot as it fills you, your pussy choking his dick, milking him dry as he collapses on you, his breath heavy as he kisses your sternum.

You lie there with him on top of you, the heaviness of his body against yours soothing you as you both come down from your highs. You wrap your arms and legs tightly around him, trying to soak as much of him as you possibly can, the thought of having to sneak out so soon suddenly makes you feel empty - you try to ignore the sadness slowly creeping up in your mind. You don't want to leave, not yet, and it sends you into a panic, your breathing becoming erratic.

"Stay with me," Joel says suddenly, his voice cutting through your internal dialogue, looking at you endearingly as he rests his forehead against yours, a hopeful look on his face.

“What about-“

"Shh." He kisses you gently, deeply- smiling as he presses small kisses at the corners of your mouth. "I don't care if she catches us, this is my house, I can do whatever I-"

"What about you not wanting anyone to find out about us?" you tease, trailing the ridge of his nose with your fingers. "... what are we, Joel? Is this just a casual thing, or..." you try to hide the anxiety in your tone, not wanting to out yourself, not wanting to seem so desperate for his affection.

"... nothing about this is casual, Sunflower, not for me."

"Oh?" you reply, trying to hide your satisfied smile, burying your face in his chest.

"You know how crazy I am for you."

“You sure? What if I don’t wake up in time-“

"Who said anything about sleeping, baby? I intend on keeping you up all night long."

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He arches his eyebrow in question.

“Yes, Joel,” you smile as you take his face in his hands.

“I’ll stay.”

#joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller smut

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ellethespaceunicorn · 3 months

Text

Oxytocin

Title: Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors – DNI

Fandom: Knives Out AU

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC (Ivy Kensington)

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: At a New Year’s Eve party, Ransom Drysdale’s life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

Warnings: age gap (Ivy is 38, Ransom is 19 in flashbacks), Mommy kink, Mommy Domme/baby boy, dry humping, orgasm denial, mention of virginity, aftercare, size kink, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing

A/N: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Ransom Drysdale BINGO were: dry humping, mommy kink, orgasm denial, virginity, size kink. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge(Pragma – longstanding love). Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta, you saved me from myself!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

YouTube Music playlist is here.

Spotify playlist is here.

My Masterlist

From the moment he laid eyes on her, Ransom’s world stopped. The sound of her laughter, the glow of her chestnut skin, the way her deep brown irises held his focus; he couldn’t choose his favorite of her attributes. He watched as she commanded the attention of the room as she regaled her guests with tales of her various adventures traveling the globe.

He was only nineteen when he met her that New Year’s Eve night. Ivy Kensington. She was thirty-eight and newly divorced. The poor bastard that let her slip through his fingers must be insane, Ransom thought to himself. He loved how lively she was, as if divorce was exactly what she needed to feel alive.

He doesn’t know what possessed him that night to walk right up to her but, God help him, he thanks his lucky stars that he did. As he approached her, his hopes were high. Until she noticed him, turning to acknowledge the younger man. When he went to open his mouth, it flopped open and then closed after several seconds of awkward silence.

A grin spread across her face before she spoke, “You have got to be Linda and Richard’s son. Handsome like your father, and venturesome just like your mother. Now, what did you walk all the way over here for? Looked like you were about to say something interesting,” she teased, a hand going to her hip as she shifted on her feet.

“Ransom. That’s my name. Uh, I just…what I mean to say is, um-”

“Slow down, baby boy,” she soothed, stopping him mid-ramble to step closer so she could hold his chin between her manicured thumb and forefinger, “What did you want to say, Ransom?”

Her gaze drew him in, and he instantly felt at ease, gaining his voice back. “I wanted to know if you had plans for midnight, Mrs. Kensington. You know, the kiss?” he asks, voice trembling only slightly.

“It’s Ms. Kensington. You want to be my midnight kiss?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him, “That is very bold of you to ask, especially coming from a virgin,” she said matter-of-factly.

His eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead at the mention of his still intact virginity. Up to this point, no one knew he’d never been laid. He’d had his share of kissing, sure. Every time he wanted to go the distance, it never panned out. But how could she tell?

“You’re wondering how I know. You just have that look about you. Not necessarily innocent, more like naïve. And damn lucky that I don’t already have a kiss lined up. Meet me up there at midnight,” she instructed, peeking up the stairs to the area overlooking the party.

All Ransom could do was nod, for fear that opening his mouth would be a repeat of his earlier blunder.

“Now, shoo. I have other guests to entertain, and that precious face of yours will surely divert my attention,” she insisted, her hand patting his baby-faced cheek as she walked around him.

Ransom was left gobsmacked. He succeeded at talking to a woman. Well, he only succeeded with her help, but he’s not gonna mention that if anyone asks. For all intents and purposes, he’s arranged a secret rendezvous with an older woman. No elaboration was necessary, according to him at least.

For the next few hours, Ransom not-so-sneakily kept an eye on wherever Ivy went. He wouldn’t call it stalking her. He was just protecting his interests. He watched as man after man came up to Ivy, crowding her personal space. Ransom was seething quite visibly until he saw how elegantly she dispatched each potential suitor, politely letting them down and sending a look his way to let him know she saw him in the crowd.

He stopped sneering as much after that. She could handle herself just fine without him lurking. He knew that now, but it didn’t stop his eyes from searching for her the rest of the night.

As 9 turned into 10 and 10 turned into 11, he busied himself with sitting on one of the exquisite phthalo green velvet couches in the parlor. He looked at all the knickknacks that Ivy must have picked up on various excursions around the world. For a moment, he felt like he may be underwhelming to such an amazing woman. But he let that thought die as people started to count down from ten in the other room.

He moved swiftly through the crowd, taking the long staircase two steps at a time to get to the top where Ivy stands waiting for him. Standing in front of her, his focus tied to her and only her. As the partygoers counted down to 1, his hand snaked around her shorter form and pulled her close.

Their breaths mingled; body heat was shared between them. The instant their lips met; it was over. As if the entire party vanished, neither of them tried to keep the kiss innocent. Deepening the kiss, Ransom used his tongue to massage hers, eliciting a deep rumbling moan out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Emboldened by his position, he let his hand slide down past the small of her back to her ample backside. Giving it a healthy squeeze, he sighed into the kiss when she tangled her fingers in his hair.

As Ivy broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his as they both caught their breath. Ivy lifted her head and smiled as she saw her garnet-toned lipstick smeared across his lips. He looked thoroughly debauched between the makeup on his face and the state of his hair. This simply would not do.

At his furrowed brow, she removed herself from his embrace and took his hand in hers. Pulling him down the long hallway, they entered the master bedroom and made their way to the attached bathroom. He finally caught his reflection in the mirror as she grabbed a makeup wipe from the cabinet. She cleaned his face while holding his jaw as if she thought he would try and escape from her grip. His gaze stayed on her face the entire time.

It had been so long since someone cared for him in this way. He watched as she threw away the wipe in the trash and finger-combed through his hair, making him presentable once again. In a flash, he was in a trance, something he couldn’t put a finger on. He felt so safe with Ivy like she could tell him to do anything, and he would do it without question. He was so deep into subspace that he barely registered Ivy calling his name as he blankly stared at her.

“Ransom? Talk to me, baby,” she encouraged, the back of her hand sweeping down his cheek. His eyes closed as she administered the simple yet desirable touch.

His mouth opened as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, but no words followed his actions. Ivy guided him back to the bedroom to sit down on the King-sized bed. All the while, he remained focused on her.

“Alright, baby boy, you gotta help me out here. Where did you go? Come on back to Mommy,” she prodded, surprised when Ransom bit his lip at her use of the word Mommy. Her eyes grew dark, and she understood instantly what he needed from her.

She instructed him to lay back on the bed and he did so promptly. The tent in his pants highlighted his arousal as she climbed over his lap. His hands moved on their own to pull her hips flush with his, but she swatted them away.

“Ask for permission to touch Mommy, baby boy,” she directed, her hands ghosting over his chest as he breathed shallowly.

“May I please touch you, Mommy?” he begged, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“After being so polite, how can I say no to my baby boy?” she conceded, reaching up to let the top of her dress down so her breasts could spill out, “You may touch Mommy, baby.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” he mewled, gripping one breast in each hand as she sat down on his clothed cock.

She felt his length and girth with how hard he was. He felt the heat coming from her pussy as she ground into him. They both felt the intensity in the air surrounding them. When Ivy leaned down to let Ransom suckle her breast, he did so with a little too much enthusiasm at first. Once he got into a rhythm, he relished that he was able to pull soft whines from her.

Soon enough, he began to feel the tightening chokehold of his impending orgasm. He stopped sucking on her tits and chased after his inevitable end. But he was interrupted by Ivy’s words and the abrupt halt of her hips.

“Baby boy, if you want to cum tonight, you’re gonna need to make Mommy cum first. Is that understood?” she challenged.

“Yes, Mommy,” he sputtered, groaning when she started to grind into him again.

She rode him like her life depended on it, and honestly, when an orgasm was on the horizon, it felt pretty on the nose. He watched her face as she succumbed to the continuous poking of the tip of his dick into her swollen nub. He coveted the way her legs tightened around him, imagining what it would feel like to be inside her when she cums.

That thought proved to be overwhelming and while she was coming down from her high, he followed right after her. Like waves crashing into a pier, his climax washed over him. White-hot heat rushed through his cock as it spilled his jizz inside his pants. Ivy, in all her glory, never stopped riding him as he came. Even as it became too much and he whimpered for her to stop, she only slowed down. She enjoyed it so much, watching him fall apart under her.

As a tear escaped his eye, she let up on her cruel punishment of his overworked length. She removed herself from his lap and crawled up the bed to take him in her arms. His breathing had calmed down and he laid his head against her chest, idly sucking on one nipple as he lay there. He looked up into her eyes and she smiled down at him, effortlessly putting him at ease.

They stayed that way until Ransom started to squirm in her arms, surely not enjoying the way his cum was starting to dry against his skin. She cleaned him up in the bathroom, her mouth gaping open when she finally caught sight of the sheer size of his cock. If she was ever going to get to ride it, she would need a lot of prep. He put a hand over hers when she unconsciously began to pump his soft penis.

She thought he had been trying to get her to stop but was surprised when he only wanted to change the pace of her hand. He threw his head back when she tightened her fist and knelt in front of him. Watching her through heavy-lidded eyes, he babbled nonsense for a moment until his balls drew up and he shot milky ropes into her waiting mouth. His hands went to her shoulders and unsteady legs doing their best to hold him up after blowing his load twice.

He had heard of post-nut clarity, but he was experiencing something completely different. Perhaps akin to love, but not as deep. He watched as she swallowed, warmth spreading through his chest. Maybe he was wrong, feeling more and more entranced by Ivy with every second they spent together.

She fixed her dress and her lipstick, leaving the red smudges on his cock with a smile as she zipped him up. She took him further down the hall to a hidden stairwell that led into the kitchen. They had evaded any prying eyes from partygoers, making it seem like they had been in this room the whole time.

Famished from earlier activities, they munched on hors d’oeurves and made comfortable small talk. All earlier nervousness was a distant memory as they laughed and carried on like two lovesick teenagers.

Well, like one lovesick teenager and a grown-ass woman. At this point, age was nothing but a number. A number that neither of them cared about. They exchanged numbers, making a point to see one another again.

Eventually, they made it back into the party. Ivy made sure to say a lengthy farewell to Ransom’s parents, praising them for raising such a gentleman much to the shock of Richard and Linda, but they recovered gracefully. Shortly thereafter, the Drysdales made their exit.

During the car ride home, Richard joked that Ransom had a schoolboy crush on Ivy. ‘If they only knew,’ he thought to himself.

Over the rest of his winter break from college, Ransom spent more and more time with Ivy where she taught him tip after hint after trick about pleasing a woman. It was less out of the goodness of her heart and more about the kismet between them. She enjoyed his banter as much as his body. He loved coming to her place for a home-cooked meal and the company of a woman who thought the world of him.

When the winter break ended, Ransom spent his last night in town with Ivy. Of course, his parents showed barely any interest in the fact that he was leaving early or who he was spending his time with. In their eyes, he was not only an adult, but also no longer their problem.

Ransom had hoped that finally, Ivy would let him make love to her. But she felt a strange sense of moral obligation when it came to him losing his virginity. As much as she wanted to be his first, she didn’t want him to get even more attached to her. She knew he was in love, and if she let herself follow him, it would not end pretty. Better to end their little doomed romance now, before either of them could get hurt.

Explaining all of this to him went better than she expected. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, jaw tightening as he looked away from Ivy. She counted to five before reaching a hand to his shoulder, surprised when his hand covered hers.

Unshed tears shone in his eyes when he turned to look back at her again. Maintaining eye contact, he brought her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of her knuckles. He still relished the way her breath caught in her throat when he showered her with affection.

“No matter what happens, just remember this moment. It’s just us here, no one else. If this is the last moment we share, let’s make it worth it,” he pressed, praying for all the world that she would change her mind.

“Ransom, this isn’t exactly easy for me. I want you, please know that. But you deserve to have a relationship with someone. Perhaps, someone closer to your age. Someone with shared experiences. I would only be holding you back. That is my honest opinion,” she sniffed, continuing to reluctantly push him away.

“I won’t ever stop wanting you. You make me feel things I never thought were possible. I just wish I could give you a fraction of what you give me,” he lamented.

“Trust me, you have made an impact on my life. Who knows? Maybe one day down the line, we could get together and get a cup of coffee and laugh about this,” she hinted, hoping he would take her olive branch.

“I hope we can. I’m gonna hold you to it,” he beamed, a grin painting his features and replacing the sad look he once wore, “I should get going, I guess.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said, standing and letting him lead the way.

She wasn’t surprised at all when he kissed her neck while hugging her. Nor when he predictably trailed kisses over her jaw and up to her lips. But she couldn’t hold back her delight when he nibbled at her bottom lip and soothed away the sting with his tongue.

For a moment, when he leaned back from her, they just looked into each other’s eyes. Nothing was said because words were unnecessary at this point. Every moment, every kiss, every shared laugh was worth it to be able to share this last long gaze.

As soon as Ivy closed the door behind Ransom, she slumped to the floor and cried her eyes out.

That night, as he drove home from Ivy’s estate, Ransom shed tears all the way back to his dorm room.

17 Years Later

Ransom is in town for a New Year’s Eve party thrown by his grandfather. He’s grown to loathe the damned holiday and it’s not a wonder why. He’s only there to make an appearance and swiftly leave before having to make awkward small talk with his parents. While sneaking into the kitchen to find the secret stash of cookies, he overhears a sound he hasn’t heard in so long but would recognize it anywhere.

He follows the source of the laughter and is astounded to see her standing and speaking to his grandfather. Entering the living room fully, he clears his throat and they both look at him. The look on Ivy’s face of pleased anticipation threw gasoline on a fire in his soul that he thought had long gone out.

“Ivy Kensington, I’d like to introduce you to my oldest grandson. Ransom Drysdale, meet Ivy,” Harlan remarks, not knowing that these two are very well-acquainted already. Harlan excuses himself, leaving them alone in the room.

“Ransom, I-”

“You look amazing,” he blurts, cutting her off before she can say anything.

They share a laugh, a moment of excitement and comfort between them. Staring into each other’s eyes told them everything they needed to know.

And as the partygoers start to count down from 10, they realize they have been sitting in the living room for hours exchanging stories of the past and what they were up to now. The worries they had once upon a time were all gone. All that was left was the sliver of opportunity that wafted in the air once they shared a kiss.

The passion was there as if it was still so many years ago. As if Ransom didn’t have laugh lines or crow’s feet when he smiled. As if Ivy wasn’t sporting a few perfectly groomed grey hairs sprouting about in her curls. As if that final goodbye wasn’t all that final.

And that was as good a place as any to start.

A/N: OK so this was my first time writing Ransom and I made him kinda soft as puppy toes in most of this. I hope you enjoy it.

**Tag List**

@blackwood4stucky @peyton-warren

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#chris evans #chris evans characters #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale x black!ofc #ransom drysdale x black ofc #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfic #knives out #knives out au #oxytocin #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic

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