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#asleep yes roaming yes undressed HOW DARE YOU
kozumekenza · 3 years
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on my mind :: seven
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:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::
:: taglist: open :: wc: 1.8k ::
After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?
tw: alcohol, profanity, gets a bit nsfw at the beginning, implications of sex
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“Do you wanna come inside?”
Your voice may have been slightly pleading, but you didn’t care. You wanted to have this conversation with Suna, wanted to tell him how you felt, wanted to wake up next to him tomorrow morning and all the mornings after. 
“Are you sure?” Suna seemed hesitant, and you knew why. He knew that by inviting him in, you were inviting him to a conversation about your relationship.
You nodded your head and unlocked the door to your apartment. You poured two glasses of wine and then found yourself in a familiar position; you sitting at one end of the couch, Suna on the other.
“You probably know why I asked you to come in,” you said, sliding one of the glasses down the coffee table towards Suna. He nodded, and you continued. “I really wanted to wait until after the Olympics, so I wouldn’t be distracting you, but I just can’t wait any longer.” You looked him in the eye before continuing. “I love you, Rintarou, and I can’t wait any longer to tell you. I want to be with you, I want to go with you back to EJP, if you’ll have-”
Your words were cut off by a very enthusiastic Suna who had dove across the couch to capture your lips with his. You kissed him back passionately, until he pulled away to whisper to you. 
“Of course I want you to come to EJP with me. I want it to be you.” You giggled somewhat childishly, allowing yourself to be caught up in the sheer happiness of the moment. You could feel Suna’s smile against your lips, his hands roaming across your body. 
“Do you wanna stay the night?”
Suna nodded enthusiastically, pulling you up from the couch. You led the way to the bedroom, tugging Suna’s hand and leaving the half-empty wine glasses on the table. 
As soon as you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, Suna was pushing you up against the wall, hands holding your face with such reverence that you thought you might cry. You could feel his lips ghosting across your jaw, neck, and collarbone as you carefully tugged off his shirt. You put your hands against his chest, reveling in the smooth, hard muscle there. As you started working on the button of Suna’s jeans, he still hadn’t made a move to undress you.
“Rin, please,” you whispered, voice feather-light and absolutely pleading.
You could feel the sinister grin that spread across Suna’s face against your neck, and you knew you were in trouble. “Already begging for me, babe?”
You scoffed and pushed him back until his thighs hit your bed, watching as he fell backwards into the mattress. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” You took your clothes off rather unceremoniously, Suna smirking at your own impatience. Standing in front of him in just your bra and underwear, you slid his jeans off. He continued smirking until you straddled his waist, only two layers of cloth separating you two. His hands found your hips as you leaned down to kiss him. Suna’s lips were soft, perfectly distracting you as his hands drifted. 
You allowed yourself to be caught up in the heat of the moment, your mind completely drifting as Suna took control. Whispered words in the dark made your heart beat faster, soft confessions of love and Suna’s deep voice praising you. You savored the feeling of him, strong arms wrapping around you, a hand grabbing both of your wrists, back muscles rippling underneath your fingertips. 
When you fell asleep later that night, you were tucked into Suna’s chest, his arms wrapped around your body.
---
The sunlight streaming in through the windows woke you the next morning. You found yourself stifling a laugh at the familiarity of waking up with Suna, only this time, it was under much better circumstances. You didn’t make a move to disentangle yourself from his arms, instead sinking farther in and allowing yourself to close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat. 
He stirred, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead as he rolled to face you completely. A hand came up to rest on the side of your face. Suna’s eyes were soft, a sleepy smile on his lips. 
“I’m not dreaming, right?”
You giggled a little at his question.”No, this is real.”
“Good.”
“Why do you ask?”
He gave you a long blink before answering. “‘Cause it’s everything I’ve been dreaming of for the past eight years.”
You swatted at his arm, laughing. “You are so soft for someone who has chronic resting bitch face and never answers personal questions in interviews.”
“You watch my interviews?”
Blushing, you nodded. “Every single one. And every highlight reel. Every game. Anything to do with you.”
“Who’s the soft one now?”
His knowing grin made you groan, lifting yourself off the bed. Suna clung to your arm like a sloth. “Where do you think you’re going?”
You rolled your eyes. “Breakfast, I’m hungry.”
He released you and flopped back into the bed, burrowing into your blankets. You smiled at his antics, then got up to make coffee and something to eat. 
---
The weekend passed in much of the same fashion, you and Suna staying in bed much longer than you should, watching replays of EJP games (Suna needed your opinion, apparently) and talking. 
On Sunday afternoon, you pulled out your laptop to email a resume to EJP’s coach, but Suna stopped you.
“I already called coach, the job’s yours if you want it.”
You snapped your head up to look at him, laptop sliding off your lap. “Huh?”
“You got the job, it’s yours.”
“What do you mean? I haven’t even applied or sent a resume.”
Suna just looked at you. “You don’t need to, you’re hired already. I called coach and gave him your credentials, and he wants you to be our trainer.”
You gave Suna an incredulous look. “When did you do that?”
He smiled, “Two weeks ago.”
Your jaw dropped. “You were that confident that I would get back together with you?”
“I call it hopeful. And yes.” You rolled your eyes before pulling him in for a kiss.
“Thank you, Rin. And let me guess, I already have somewhere to live?”
“Of course, with me.” You grinned. “My apartment’s pretty big, more of a penthouse, anyway. We can move back together after the Games.”
Your smile became even wider. You liked the idea of “together”.
---
When you and Suna walked hand-in-hand into Monday’s morning practice, Atsumu laughed. 
“I fucking knew it. You two can’t keep away from each other.”
Suna punched Atsumu in the shoulder before dropping you off at your office with a kiss on the cheek. 
Practice was much better now that you and Suna were actually together. With two weeks until the move into the Olympic Village, training was picking up. The hardest would be over at the end of the week, with the week before the move-in full of easier drills and low-impact exercises. You enjoyed being able to watch Suna without restraint, taking in every move, every muscle. 
You spent your evenings with Suna, taking extra care of sore muscles and aching joints. He laughed at your fussing, but you didn’t stop. You wanted him to play at top form in the upcoming Games, and you were going to do everything you could to make sure he got there. 
Atsumu was petty about you “playing favorites”, as he put it, but his jealousy was quickly dismissed when you threw an ice pack at him. 
On the last practice before you left the National Team training center, the atmosphere was electric. Training was minimal, focusing on stretching and keeping muscles warm rather than drills and practice matches. You even watched tapes from the most recent world championship, taking notes on opposing teams and players. 
When practice was finally over, you helped Iwaizumi pack all of the training gear.
“Thank you for doing such a good job this season, y/n. I know the team will be in good hands with you.”
You smiled bright at his praise. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy Argentina, although I and everyone else will miss you.”
Iwaizumi shrugged. “It’s about time I left anyway. My fiance’s been waiting for me for quite some time.”
You laughed a little bit. “That’s quite romantic.”
“Just wait ‘til you meet him. He’s the opposite of romantic. In fact, he’s quite annoying.”
“I’m going to meet him?”
“Yeah, he plays for the Argentina volleyball team. He’s gonna be all ‘Iwa-chan, how dare you be on Japan’s side. How dare you be their trainer. I can’t believe you.’ Just wait, it’s obnoxious. You’ll wish you didn’t meet him.”
Stifling your laughter, you replied, “I’m sure that’s not true.”
Without missing a beat, Iwaizumi said, “It is, trust me.” He looked over his shoulder at you. “Anyway, I should be the one congratulating you. It seems you and Suna finally figured everything out.”
Your cheeks flared red. “How’d you know about that?”
Iwaizumi chuckled. “Atsumu, of course. The whole team’s been making bets on how long it would take for you two to get back together, for Suna to realize who took his jersey, pretty much everything.”
You paused, one of your hands still in a box of athletic tape. “He told you everything?”
Iwaizumi nodded, watching as you stomped towards the locker rooms. “Excuse me.”
Iwaizumi proceeded with his packing, only pausing slightly when he heard a very loud, very agitated, “Miya Atsumu!”
---
You dropped the heavy box you were carrying, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Suna dropped his box next to yours, then flopped on your bed. 
“Get off, Rin. This isn’t your room. And we have more boxes.”
He groaned, looking up at you. “C’mon, y/n. It’s hot, and I need to rest. Big games coming up, y’know?”
You grabbed his hands, dragging him off the small bed. “A few more boxes, Rin, I promise.”
Later that night, after unpacking the boxes of training supplies and going over schedules with the coach and Iwaizumi, you were finally settled in your tiny room in the Olympic Village. You were rooming alone, with team supplies taking up half of the space. Just as you were about to drift to sleep, your door opened, a tiny sliver of light from the hallway slipping in.
You didn’t even roll over. “Rin, there is not enough room for you in here. This bed is tiny as fuck.”
“C’mon, y/n. I can’t sleep when I’m not next to you.”
You tried to ignore the pleading tone in his voice, but you could picture the puppy dog eyes he was probably giving you. “Fine,” you sighed, lifting the blankets for him to join you.
“Thank you, babe.”
You hummed, relishing in the warmth of Suna’s chest, just about to fall asleep when-
“Hey, do you think it’s true that these beds break if you have sex on them?”
---
The bed broke. 
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taglist:  @sunasexual @call-me-lulu​ @ntimacy​ @circleglasses​ @porcolie​ @keikotaro @rintarovibes​ @kenmaslov3r​ ​
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alice-dont-break · 3 years
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hello this is shameless smut pls enjoy!! kinda fluffy and oops sorry idk how to write smut for them without giving ant a little bit of top energy
cw: post-pregnancy body insecurity at first and then just filth
Every Inch | Janthony Smut
When Anthony got home from work, he first found his 6-week old baby sound asleep in the bassinet in the living room. He smiled, but tiptoed upstairs immediately because despite wanting to stare at her cute little face, waking her would be disturbing the rare peace and quiet his wife was surely savoring. When he got upstairs and entered the bedroom, he found a pile of Jasmine’s clothes on the floor and a light on in the bathroom. Intrigued, he peeked his head past the door and laid eyes on the most stunning silhouette he’d ever seen.
Jasmine was standing in front of the mirror, fully undressed, looking over her shoulder at her reflection.
“Wow,” he breathed, getting her attention.
“Oh, hey sorry,” she said. She hugged herself and reached past him for the robe hanging off the door, but he gently caught her wrist. He stepped her away from the door, and took in the delicious sight in front of him.
“Damn, baby, why would you ever say sorry for giving me a look at this work of art. You admiring yourself... can I join?”
“You can stay but I’m not admiring,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. She tried to twist away, but Anthony grasped her other hand.
“Hm?” He didn’t want to push her, but he couldn’t ignore the sadness in her eyes.
“I’m just... I don’t feel sexy anymore. Ever. This is so stupid but I literally made my mom watch bubba for an hour today so I could go to Victoria’s Secret and even with brand new sexy lingerie I felt disgusting. Do I even turn you on anymore? We haven’t done anything since...” Her voice was weak and shaky, and her lips were tightly pursed.
“Baby... baby girl you turn me on like crazy. God, look at you... you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he crooned. “I just didn’t wanna rush or hurt you, but I hate that you aren’t seeing what I see. Can I show you babe?”
Jasmine furrowed her brow, but reluctantly nodded. Anthony then led her by the hand back to the mirror, where he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He nuzzled up to her shoulder as they both looked at her reflection. As Anthony looked her up and down, his eyes smouldered with lust.
“God, where do I even begin,” he groaned. “I mean, the easiest is your face. Your eyes just stun me, whether they’re soft and you’re laughin’ or looking at our baby, or piercing like your mad or tryna rile me up.”
Jasmine’s cheeks had flushed red and she tried to look away, only to be brought back to center by Anthony’s thumb on her chin.
“Your skin,” he continued while caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, “just flawless.”
She leaned into his touch and let a weak smile escape.
“Mmm and your lips, baby,” he smiled. He cupped her chin with his fingers and brushed over her supple lips with his thumb. He was dying to kiss her, but knew once he started he’d never stop, and there was too much more he wanted to say.
“Your hair, your curls... gorgeous through every state of being.” He smiled into the side of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, then nipped at her ear and trailed kisses down her jaw and neck.
“And your neck,” he whispered, sending chills down her spine, “because it lets me get the sexiest moans from you.” Proving his point, he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh, hard enough to melt her without really hurting, and she threw her head back against his shoulder as a soft gasp escaped her parted lips.
He chuckled into her collarbone, and continued exploring her skin with his mouth and hands, covering every inch of her upper back, shoulders, and chest with attention. Jasmine was fully flushed with a little bit of self consciousness, but also awareness of the heat growing between her legs. His hand wandered back down from her shoulders to her waist to pull her back flush against his chest, before roaming back up to cup her breasts.
“God, and these... Jas you know I’ve always been an ass guy, and trust me we’ll get to that, but I’ve never seen anything sexier than these tits ever since you were pregnant. They’re so big... huge... and I love how just a little attention like this,” he mumbled as he circled his fingers around her nipples with a slight pinch, “gets such a reaction... god Jasmine I could spend all day just working your tits.”
As he talked, he was kneading the tender flesh with the palms of his hands and kissing her shoulders, and Jasmine could have sworn she was going to start dripping down her inner thigh. Her buds were pebbled and she writhed under his touch as he brushed over them.
“And baby, I know you’ve been self conscious about this area,” he said more softly, letting his hands slide down her waist and hips to land just where her baby bump had been only a month ago. He peppered kisses to the seam of her neck and shoulder as he rubbed his thumbs over her hip bones. “These curves are a work of art. Your shape is stunning, Jas, it’s so sexy whether you’re a million months pregnant, one week post-baby, or whatever else. I like having something to grab, too, but don’t think I haven’t noticed your abs comin’ back.” he winked with another soft bite to her earlobe and a squeeze around her hips.
Jasmine was leaning against him now with her head thrown back on his shoulder, as his mouth, his raspy voice, his touch all left her trembling. He took his chance to turn her sideways to face him and reached down to grab her ass with both hands.
“God, this ass, baby... ugh it’s just so fucking sexy. The way it’s so perfectly tight and round, especially when you wear them jeans I like, but then bounces when I’m fuckin’ up into you... or when I’m taking you from behind with my fiery handprints all over...”
Anthony was testing his own patience now, and cut himself off with another bite to her shoulder. He gestured for her to jump up and hoisted her so her legs were wrapped around his waist and his hands were gripping her thighs.
“Your legs baby, they’re so strong and toned, and even though you’re short enough to tuck right into my side, they look long and sexy and I just want to mark em all up your inner thighs... show anyone who dares to look at you in a tight lil skirt that you’re mine.”
While he spoke, he carried her slowly out of the bathroom and over to the bed. The whole way, she could feel his hardened bulge pressing against her, and was sure there would be a wet patch where her core met his waist.
When he reached the bed, he dropped her down and hovered overtop so he could whisper in her ear. “Now can I show you the next part of you I think is sexy?” He rasped. Jasmine was breathless, and could only nod eagerly. After a chaste peck to her lips, Anthony sank down to rest between her thighs, which he spread open with his hands splayed across her caramel skin.
“Mmm, this pussy,” he growled against the meeting of her leg and her mound, letting the vibration of his words send shockwaves through her already electrified body. “Always so wet and needy for me. God look at you baby, you’re fucking soaked already, hm? All for me?”
Jasmine nodded and moaned a “yes”, as Anthony chuckled.
Slowly, he prodded his tongue to part her folds, and licked a slow stripe all the way up. The sound she made was slow, husky and pained. She was already aching for more. “Your taste, babe, your juices are the sweetest damn taste in the world.”
He continued to take his time, drawing long strokes and tasting every inch of her core, until his tongue started circling her entrance. As soon as it poked inside, her hips bucked, begging for more, though a whimper was all she could muster. He used one finger to gather her juices, then slowly pressed inside.
“So fucking tight, soft walls squeeze me so tight, even when you’re nearly screamin’ and you’re asking if it’s too much, you take me so, so good baby.”
“Another,” she moaned loudly, “please.” Anthony smirked and happily obeyed, adding a second finger to her wetness.
He thrust slowly in and out, before pausing to scissor his digits and feel the stretch of her velvet insides. Her breath hitched with every movement and he wondered how much longer she could last.
“Baby hold it together, I haven’t even gotten to the best part. The sexiest part of this perfect pussy is this adorable little bud,” he grinned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her clit.
“Ant,” she breathed desperately.
“So sweet, so sexy the sounds I can get out of you with just the slightest touch,” he said. Anthony pointed his tongue and started flicking the sensitive area, as his fingers continued to probe deep inside. “Seriously the cutest little thing I’ve ever played with.”
“Anthony,” she moaned again, her voice growing more ragged and hungry with his every move.
“Mhmm baby... and the sexiest thing of all, my love, is how you look when you come undone.”
He heard the faintest gasp escape her lips, so with a final smirk he wrapped his lips around her swollen bud and suckled lightly as he curled his fingers deep inside her. With his free hand, he reached up and rolled her hard nipple between his fingers, as her moans became more like screams. Within seconds he felt her soft walls tighten around his fingers, and her thighs lift up off the bed.
“Ant I’m gonna... I’m gonna...”
“I’ve got you,” he purred, “come for me, princess. I’ve got you.”
Jasmine fell apart. Every sliver of tension that had been building for the past two months came undone as a wave of fire ravaged her senses. Her back arched and her head flopped back with a loud and luscious sigh, as her pussy fluttered around Anthony’s fingers. He continued gentle kitten licks to her most sensitive area as his fingers lazily moved to ride her through her high. Suddenly, Jasmine felt a massive release and Anthony felt a flood wash over his fingers and chin. He was entranced by the effect he had on her body, continuing to press with his fingers, and let his tongue roam downward to taste her juices, until Jasmine was fully limp beneath him.
When he was certain there were no more aftershocks to rock her, he pressed a final kiss to her warmth and climbed back up to hover over her face. With both hands cupping her cheeks, he leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly.
“Did I...” she asked timidly between heavy pants. Her cheeks were flushed red, and Anthony added to their warmth with soft, wet kisses.
“Squirt? Yep,” he smirked, obviously proud of the new level of pleasure he’d unlocked for her. “That was new... and maybe the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
“Ant that... that was... oh my god.... i need to...” As she struggled to form sentences, she seemed to be making a move to repay the favor, but Anthony just put a firm hand on her shoulder.
“You aren’t going anywhere, babe,” he teased. “You look so utterly fucked out that I’m genuinely worried you may have trouble walking all week despite not actually having had a cock inside you.”
Jasmine’s eyes were still slightly rolling to the back of her head, so Anthony just chuckled at her grumbles and gave her a chaste kiss. “Stay here, love, gonna get you a cloth. You’re literally soaked in your own cum.”
“Later... show you lingerie... s’new,” she murmured.
“Whenever you’re ready love, but not before a nap. Besides, as excited as I am to see it, I don’t know how you could possibly get any sexier.”
Instead of protesting as she did earlier, she looked up at Anthony with a faint, adorable little smile that warmed his heart.
When he got back from the bathroom only twenty seconds later, Jasmine’s eyes were closed with her mouth hanging open just slightly. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how absolutely worn out she was, so he just let her sleep. As the mother of a six-week old baby, she needed it with or without a mind-blowing orgasm. After using the warm cloth to wipe down her thighs and through her folds, he grabbed a blanket to drape over them as he laid on his side and pulled her close. With a quick glance at the baby monitor to ensure the little one was continuing to cooperate with his unplanned mission, he leaned his forehead against her temple and peppered little kisses to her cheeks as her heavy breath lulled him into a trance. He rubbed the soft skin at her waist as he kept pulling her tighter into his side, and focused on giving her all his warmth, comfort and attention, with the hope that she’d be at least slightly coherent again when she woke up.
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mascwhump · 3 years
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Chapter 11 - Scaredy Cat
TW: mild blood, beating, strangling, bound and gagged, noncon undressing (not sexual)
Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow
-
Charlie furrowed his brow.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because I'm not going to leave you here just so you can attempt to escape again," Mallory said.
"What about Crow?"
"He'll remain here. Don't worry, he'll be well taken care of."
"Oh, fuck off," Charlie said, "I'm not going."
"It's really funny that you think I'm giving you a choice."
Mallory stood and walked into the kitchenette. He licked his fingers and pinched the wick of the candle to put it out. He opened a cabinet and retrieved a small black case before walking back to Charlie. He set it down on the table and flipped it open.
"Want this?" He said, pulling out a syringe of Q-179, "it's a long drive.”
Charlie nodded, looking at the syringe closely to make sure it was actually Q.
"Why are you giving it to me?" He asked.
"We're still testing it. I'm pretty sure you have a concussion, so I might as well see if it fixes that. God, would you stop asking so many questions and just be appreciative for once?"
Mallory moved Charlie's head to the side and stuck the needle in his neck. He cringed. He hated whenever he put it in his neck rather than his arm. He melted into the chair as the familiar warmth took away his pain. Mallory sat back down and watched Charlie's expression.
"Does it still feel as good as the first time?" He asked.
"Almost," Charlie breathed.
Mallory put the empty syringe back into the case and shut it. He waited until Charlie came down before he spoke again.
"We're leaving in twenty minutes," he said, checking his watch.
"What am I even going to do there?" Charlie queried.
"The same as you do here. You're going to stay in the basement and behave."
"Oh, great," Charlie mumbled.
"You didn't think I'd just let you roam about my home, did you? No. I'm simply taking you just to keep an eye on you, like I said."
He walked into the kitchen and turned on the sink. Charlie watched as he scrubbed a glass and dried it before putting it away. His eyes drifted toward the counter, where a half-drunk bottle of whiskey was placed.
"Do you remember the other night?" He asked.
He bit his tongue. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer.
"Not really, no. Why do you ask?"
Charlie breathed a small sigh of relief.
"No reason. You were drunk and stopped by to say hi," he lied.
"Really? I don't remember that," Mallory said, "I just remember drinking and then waking up still dressed in my bed. My head hurt like hell."
Mallory walked into his bedroom out of sight for a minute. When he emerged, he was rolling luggage behind him. He put it near the door, then sat back down across from Charlie. He crossed his leg over the other, putting his arm on the table and resting his chin in his hand.
"I hope I'm not forgetting anything," he mumbled.
You did forget, Charlie thought.
"Um," Charlie cleared his throat, "Could I... bring my blanket?"
"No," Mallory laughed.
"Please?"
"I said no. Ask again and I'll burn it. In fact, if you ask another question in general, I'll burn it."
He checked his watch. "Let's get going."
He stood and grabbed his luggage. Charlie was slow to follow. Mallory snapped his fingers at him, then pointed to his watch. They walked out of the apartment and down, out of the building.
Charlie relished in the cool breeze. He hadn't been able to appreciate it when he was outside before. The sun on his skin was enough to make him crack a smile. They walked a short distance to a lot, where a few soldiers waited by a black Mercedes Benz.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Mallory spoke, “you’re not riding with me.”
The soldiers took hold of Charlie and forced him to the ground. He struggled as they wrapped a red cloth around his mouth, and another around his eyes. His ankles were tied together with a length of rope. Strong hands lifted him up and threw him down again with ease, and the trunk was slammed shut. Charlie felt around, but struggled to find anything to assist him as his hands were still cuffed. He heard two doors shut and the engine start.
“It’s a long drive.”
The cloth dug into the corners of his mouth. He did his best to contain the amount of drool that fell out, but with the position he was in, gravity wasn’t on his side. There wasn’t enough room to turn over. He was stuck like this until they arrived at... wherever it was Mallory lived.
Luckily, the drive wasn’t as long as he thought it would be. After two hours or so, he felt the car pull into a driveway. Soon after, the trunk was opened. Mallory slipped a knife between his ankles and cut the rope.
“Out,” he said.
He grabbed Charlie’s arms to help guide him out. Until then, Charlie never appreciated how nice it was to have leg room. He stretched the best he could, and Mallory held his arm to guide him into the house. He shoved the key in the lock and they stepped inside. Mallory opened a door near the entryway. He untied the blindfold and pointed to the stairs.
"Go downstairs," he said, "I'll be down in a second. Don't. Touch. Anything."
Charlie started down the steps and Mallory shut the door behind him. He hadn't expected the basement to be so... finished. The floors were a plush carpet, and a black leather sectional sat facing a large TV. There was a bar at one end of the room stocked with every type of alcohol. Two doors were open, and Charlie peaked in. One was a bathroom with a huge shower, and the other was a simple bedroom.
He stood awkwardly next to the couch as he waited for Mallory to meet him. Finally, after a few minutes, he came downstairs and removed the gag from his mouth. Charlie’s jaw clicked as he shut it.
"This is where you're staying. Don't touch the TV, don't touch the alcohol, and don't sit on the sofa," he said.
"What am I, a dog?"
"If I had a dog, it'd be allowed on the furniture. You can sleep on the floor. You're lucky I have carpet down here."
Charlie saw something fly down the stairs behind Mallory. He looked down and saw a cat.
"Sasha, I told you to stay upstairs, sweetheart," Mallory said, picking her up.
She was black with white markings, her eyes a bright yellow.
"You have... a cat?" Charlie asked in disbelief.
"Yes," Mallory said, "Don't touch her, either. She shouldn't come down here, because I'm keeping that door locked tight. But if she does, leave her alone."
Sasha purred as she rubbed her face against Mallory's chest. Mallory kissed her head and petted her softly.
"Okay, I won't touch anything. Especially the cat," Charlie said.
"Good. I'll bring you something to eat soon," Mallory said, starting back up the stairs with Sasha in his arms.
Charlie sat on the floor. He ran his fingers over the carpet. It was already a lot softer than his mat; maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He thought about Crow, hoping he was alright. With Mallory here, he would be safe from him, and the soldiers seemed to have some kind of "don't harm them unless I tell you to" order.
Mallory came back downstairs with food after an hour or so. He had a few Chinese takeout containers.
"Eat at the bar. If you spill anything on my carpet, I'll stab you again. Now, turn around and I’ll take those off,” he said.
Charlie let him remove the handcuffs and took a seat on one of the barstools. Mallory set the containers down in front of him. There was a box of white rice, and a box of sweet and sour chicken. Charlie ate carefully, trying his best not to spill anything. Mallory settled on the couch and scrolled on his phone.
Sasha came trotting down the stairs again.
"God dammit," Mallory sighed, "I'm really not used to shutting that door."
"Then keep it open," Charlie said.
"So you can wander around my house while I'm asleep? No."
Charlie finished eating and spun around on the stool. Sasha was standing on the back of the couch, looking at him.
"Hi, pretty kitty," he whispered.
Mallory shot him a glare. Sasha jumped off the couch and over to Charlie, rubbing up against his legs.
"What the hell is on your shirt?" Mallory asked.
Charlie looked down. "Oh," he said, "I think it's blueberry juice."
"Take it off," he said.
"You didn't notice it before?"
"No. Or maybe I did, but didn't care. Now that you're in my house, it's bothering me. Take your shirt off."
Charlie slipped his shirt over his head and Mallory walked over to grab it from him. Then he noticed the same stains on his sweatpants, too.
"What the fuck did you do to get this messy?"
"That asshole that threw the water at me threw the tray at me, too. Blame him."
"Well, you need to take those off as well."
"Yeah, not gonna happen."
Mallory took hold of his shoulders and threw him off the barstool and onto the floor. He gripped the bottom of the pant legs and tore them from his legs. Charlie got to his feet and Mallory forced him up against the wall.
"Have you forgotten what happens when you don't behave, or need I remind you?" He growled.
Charlie spit in his face.
Mallory stepped back slowly, wiping his face with his sleeve.
"Oh, you really should not have done that."
Charlie ran. He sprinted up the stairs, almost tripping as he missed a step, and flew out of the door. He turned left, then up the stairs to the second floor. Mallory was right behind him. He came to a door and opened it, slamming it behind him. He locked it before Mallory could get in.
"Open the door right now!” Mallory ordered from the other side.
Charlie backed away from it until his legs hit something. He felt backwards, landing on a bed. He looked around and realized he must have been in Mallory’s room. Footsteps lead away from the door and Charlie’s heart raced. Seconds later, Mallory was back, and he unlocked the door. He threw it open and ran at Charlie, jumping on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat.
“How dare you?!” He yelled.
Charlie clawed at his hands, adding new scratches to the old, and kicked his legs, doing everything he could to make him let go. Mallory tightened his grip, and blackness surrounded the edges of Charlie’s vision. He stopped scratching, and moved his hands up to his face. Mallory let go with one hand to swat them away, then brought it back down with a smack to his cheek.
Finally, Mallory released his grip. Charlie gasped for air. Mallory threw his fist at his face, and it connected to his jaw. Charlie cried out, and was once again met with another hit. He reached up and grabbed Mallory’s arms, using all his strength to keep him from hitting him again.
“I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry, please-“
Mallory got an arm free and landed another punch. Blood began to trickle from Charlie’s nose, and Mallory threw him onto the floor before it could drip onto the white sheets. Charlie sprung up before Mallory could pin him again, and brought his hands up to defend himself. Mallory suddenly stopped. He was breathing heavily as he stared at Charlie with eyes like daggers.
Charlie made a break for it. He ran out of the room and back down the two sets of stairs, leaping off the last few steps into the basement. He looked for a place to hide as the footsteps slowly became closer. Mallory appeared at the bottom of the stairs before he could, but he didn’t look at Charlie. Instead, he walked to the bar.
Charlie wiped the blood from his nose and watched him. Mallory stepped behind the bar and grabbed a glass along with a decanter full of whiskey.
“Go take a shower,” he said, without looking up, “do it now before I change my mind.”
Charlie quickly moved into the bathroom. He shut and locked the door behind him before turning on the shower. He slipped out of his boxers and stepped in, the hot water washing away the blood. He was still breathing hard. His throat was tight, and he knew he’d have finger shaped bruises soon enough. He stayed in the shower for a long while, dreading the moment he’d have to go back out and face Mallory.
He finally shut off the water after a few minutes. He took his time drying off and getting redressed, finally taking a deep breath before he stepped out of the bathroom. Mallory was sitting with his back facing him. He had a glass of whiskey in one hand, and a cigar in the other.
Charlie stood awkwardly. Sasha was lying on the floor behind the couch, watching him.
“I just wanted tonight to be normal,” Mallory said, taking a drag from his cigar, “I just wanted you to behave so I could take a bath and sleep in my own bed without having to think about you. I’m tired. So tired. I shouldn’t have given you that shot earlier. Maybe you would be tired, too. I don’t know. God, you’re going to make me an alcoholic.”
“No one’s forcing you to think about me, and I’m not forcing you to drink,” Charlie replied.
Charlie dropped down on the carpet and sat with his back against the wall. He folded his arms over his knees and watched Mallory pour another glass. Sasha stretched as she got up, then she walked over to Charlie, purring.
Charlie slowly reached his hand out, and she rubbed her face against it. He watched to make sure Mallory wasn’t looking, and he started to gently stroke the fur on top of her head.
“I lied to you. I remember that night. I remember everything,” Mallory said.
“You do?” Charlie asked.
“You didn’t hate me that night,” Mallory said, “you spoke to me like a human being. Even after all that I’ve done.”
“I don’t hate anyone,” Charlie spoke softly after a moment.
“How is that possible?”
“I was raised to see the good in everything and everyone.”
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alma37 · 3 years
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A[h]arrowing evening - chapter 2
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I kind of promised another chapter if I reached 100 hits on AO3. I am a little behind schedule, but a promise is a promise.
So, here is the chapter 2.
Fandom : Dracula TV 2020
Relationship : Agatha x Dracula
Rating : this one tends to M but not quite
I still have not counted the words.
@hopipollahorror​ @lady-of-the-wolves​ @thebeautyofdisorder​ @festering-queen​ @feralstare​
[let me know if you don’t want to be tagged]
@vampyrsbride​ @khyruma​ no idea if you even read fanfiction
Anyone else who didn’t ask to be tagged but still read my shit,
everyone, I hope you’ll enjoy!
As Dracula was settling comfortably for the night, a knock resounded on his door. Curious, he went to open and was startled to find a swaying Agatha in front of him.
- Agatha! To what do I owe the pleasure? Or is it displeasure tonight?
The young vampire waved her hand and slurred :
- I came to aplo... to aloo... ap.., to say I'm sorry.
The older vampire frowned :
- Are you all right?!
- Nether bedder!" She was leaning dangerously sideways until she was supported by the doorframe.
- Did you take something?" Dracula asked, incredulous.
- Noooo!... " But after a short pause, she admitted : "I just drank a drunk!" And she sniggered. Agatha never sniggered.
- Oh my! Are you drunk?!
- Mabee a little bit. But he tasted sooo good!" Agatha mumbled, ecstatic.
- What did I tell you about drinking drunk people?!
- Pff!" The younger vampire scoffed. "I drrink whoeve' I want, Mr 'now-it-all.
Now she was listing dangerously towards Dracula who held her upright by the shoulders.
- Do you understand how much alcohol is needed to affect us?! How much blood did he have left in his alcohol stream?!" He asked drily.
The former nun, leaning on his chest now, snorted.
- Did you just make a joke?
- Perhaps.
- You shooould not do that.
- Why not?
- Because... it makesss you likeable. And I am not sh-supposed to like you. I am sh-supposed to.. to kill you! See? I still have my little arrow with me, just in case.
Agatha brandished in all directions the wooden weapon she got used to carry since Dracula turned her. Weary, the older vampire got hold of it before his younger kin could do some damage to either of them.
- Yes, I can see that. I'll keep it for now, if you don't mind.
Agatha made a gesture, that could either mean she didn't mind or its exact opposite. When she didn't try to take back her weapon, the Count concluded it was the former and returned to their previous conversation :
- Did you just said you liked me?
- Ov course not! Why would I do that?! You mush... must get deaf in your old age.
- I assure you my hearing is quite good. You just said you liked me." He persisted.
- Nooooooooo. No, no, nononono. No..." Another short silence, before :" Maybe. A little. But I am rrrreally d-drunk at the moment, so you'll have to ashk... aks... hashk me again tomorrow. When I sh-slept it off.
- When you slept it off, you are going to wish me to the devil. So...
- Zat's not... jat's... that... Yeah!... Maybe we should sleep it ohf togejer, zen.
- I beg your pardon?!
- Zat way, no dish... no dims... no w... no sc-scoffing at.
- I won't sleep with you when you are drunk, Agatha.
- Why not?! I am vewy ri... very vi... willing at the moment. When will you 'ave anozer chance, do you think?
- God, give me strength!
- Did you..." Agatha sniggered for the second time in the evening. " Did you just take God's name in vain?!" before she dissolved in laughter, at the utter dismay of her older kin, while actually slouching against him.
- That's exactly why." The only thing keeping her up was his arm around her waist. When she finally calmed down, he tried to lead her towards the bedchamber :
- Come now. I am putting you to bed.
But Agatha resisted his pull. Even drunk, she was still a vampire.
- Only if you're coming with me into it.
Dracula towered above her.
- Agatha, don't push me. You know I want you. But not like that.
Far from being cowed, the younger vampire slid along his chest until she was an air breath from his mouth before flashing him a brilliant smile :
- Draaackeyyyy... me loveyyyy. Don't be so meaneyyyyy.
The older vampire snapped :
- That's it. That's enough! I am putting you to bed now.
Lifting her like she was a bag of feather, he threw her on his shoulder. Sober Agatha would have been scandalised. Drunk Agatha, however, sniggered for the third time and purred :
- Ooooh! Me very own cave man!... Cave vampire!" Then, even upside down, she set about removing his shirt from his trousers. Dracula couldn't believe what was happening : a few weeks ago, she almost killed him and now, it appeared that she was intent on undressing him.
- Agatha, stop that!" He admonished her, to no avail.
The younger vampire, apparently, was determined to see him naked before they could reach the bedroom. She was really trying his self-control.
- Agatha, if you don't stop, I am going to do something I have wanted to for a long time and you will be left with only regret and self-loathing in the morning. Is it really what you want?
At last, this made her stop. Dracula couldn't help but release a relieved sigh.
Once they reached the bedroom, Dracula slid her down to the bed. He put a knee on the floor to remove her shoes. Agatha, surprisingly silent, was watching him. When he straightened up to help her lie down, she unexpectedly put her hand under his shirt flat against his abdomen. Dracula fought to keep what was left of his restraint.
-Show me your scar.
- It's gone. You know we don't scar." The older vampire answered while removing gently her hand from his skin. She was warm from the blood, which wasn't helping with his growing lust. Luckily, she didn't resist. But she looked disappointed :
- I wanted to kiss it better, as you asked me. As an apology.
- You did, don't you remember?
- Hum! Yes. But I wanted to do it more... Can I kiss you better somewhere else, then?
- Agatha..." But before truly realising it, he was leaning forward. His restraint was flying through the window.
The kiss started sweetly, a mere brush of the lips, but drunk Agatha was demanding and Dracula, unable to resist, gave her what she asked. Soon they were tangled with each other, the older vampire not sure anymore how many limbs his younger kin had, as she seemed to touch him everywhere at the same time. He finally stopped her hands from their roaming and threaded their fingers, while exploring her mouth with avidity. In all their 123 years of fighting, she had never let down her guard and never allowed him this close. Until tonight. She was exquisite, as always. Warm and soft and... softer?
Dracula raised his head to note, with a mix of dismay and amusement, that his nemesis had fallen asleep in his bed. Well, at least, she finally was where he wanted her. The vampire shook his head and laughed softly at the irony. As it was, she wouldn't be able to stake him come morning. Small mercies.
*************
A few hours later, Agatha emerged slowly from her slumber. For a few instants, she couldn't remember but when memories flooded back, she put a pillow on her face and groaned. How could she do that?
- Oh! I see you are awake. Hum! And not suffering ill effects from your over-indulgence.
- Sweet Jesus! It really did happen, then?! I still hoped it was a nightmare.
- I am afraid not, Angel.
- I can't believe I did that. This is so embarrassing!
- Well, it could have been worse. I could have given in.
At those words, Agatha removed the pillow from her face - She couldn't smother herself anyway - and looked at her supposedly oldest enemy. He was watching her with a mix of fondness, resignation and longing. Or so it seemed to her guilty mind.
- I am so sorry, Vlad. I... Well, thank you for resisting. At least one of us didn't embarrass themselves last night.
- My pleasure, Angel. And don't thank me, I wasn't able to totally resist, if you remember well. If you hadn't fallen asleep, honestly..." He trailed before falling silent.
Agatha dropped her gaze on the sheets, a new wave of mortification washing over her.
- Yes, well, I provoked you. So, for once, I don't blame you. You actually showed remarkable restraint.
-  Did I hear you well? Did you just pay me a compliment?! You may suffer ill effects after all." Dracula teased her.
- Nevermind." Agatha mumbled, going out of bed. Dracula presented a helping hand, which, after only a slight hesitation, she took. Once upright, though, she had to grip it more tightly as she swayed on her feet.
- Hum. Not totally unscathed, then." The older vampire remarked, without mirth.
- I'm fine." She defended herself."I just feel a little numb.
- Yes, of course. My mistake." He answered, with a knowing smile this time.
- Oh do shut up, Dracula!" The younger vampire growled, as she tried to remove her hand from his. But Dracula didn't let her.
- Maybe you should stay the day. Sleep it off.
- Dracula...
- I promise you : no mischief, no ulterior motive. If I may say so, you don't look so good. You could rest here, I won't bother you.
- I don't think..." She hesitated.
- I can bring you some clean blood to clear your head and you can lie here as long as you want." Dracula added when he sensed her wavering.
Agatha was thinking about accepting his offer as she felt exhausted, but still she pondered.
- Where will you rest? It's daytime.
- Don't worry about me. My sofa is quite comfortable.
The former nun snorted :
- Your sofa is as comfortable as a marble coffin and at least a foot shorter than you!
Dracula shrugged.
- Well, I still have to put a bed in the guest bedroom, so it will have to make do.
Agatha looked at her nemesis' bed : it had been made for him, so it was probably a foot longer than her and at least, large enough to house a small village. She gulped then took a deep breath :
- Your bed is big enough for the both of us. And since, you were the gentleman and offered me its exclusive use, I would be a very sore guest if I'd let you sleep on this terrible furniture you dare call a sofa.
Despite his surprise at her unexpected proposition, Dracula chuckled :
- Well, if you get into the habit of coming to see me while drunk, I may need to invest into a second bed. Or...
Agatha raised a warning finger :
- Don't even think about finishing this sentence, Count.
The older vampire grinned but stopped talking. After an awkward silence, Agatha added :
- You should think about replacing that sofa, too.
- I will." At his tone, she looked at him. He was watching her back with that same expression again.
- Are you sure you don't mind?" Dracula broke the spell. "I must admit I got quite fond of my bed, since I don't need my coffin to sleep in.
- No. I mean : I don't mind." But she insisted, to be sure : "You promise me no mischief.
- You offered me to sleep with you." He countered, teasing her.
Agatha didn't catch the joke, if her scandalised look was any indication :
- I was drunk!
Dracula laughed at her outraged tone.
- I'm joking, Agatha. Relax.
he sat on one side of the bed and patted the place next to him.
- Come on. You look dead on you feet. I promised you no mischief. I'll keep my word.
Agatha sat carefully on the bed then lay down next to her old enemy. They didn't say anything for some time. Dracula rearranged his limbs then put his hands behind his head, settling in.
Agatha was lying next to him rigidly, debating with herself, until finally she sighed :
- Oh Hell!" And throwing caution to the wind, she rolled on her side to nestle against him. It was quite nice, actually.
The older vampire stayed still for a moment, unsure what to do. Then, slowly, he put down one arm to place it around her shoulders and bring her a little closer to him.
- No mischief." She mumbled into his shirt.
- No mischief." He confirmed with a smile in his voice. "Even if you make it hard for me to keep my promise."
- Not without a partner." His younger kin replied softly, already on the verge of sleep.
Dracula resisted laughing at her tart answer, so as not to disturb her. She was relaxing against him and very soon, he could sense she was fast asleep. No partner indeed.
He couldn't hold it any longer and laughed, barely disturbing his exhausted partner. She muttered in her sleep, then settled against him once more after throwing an arm across his chest.
Perhaps, she would heed his advice next time. But Dracula hoped she wouldn't. Drunk Agatha was almost as fun as angry Agatha and far more agreeable.
The older vampire looked down at the woman in his arms. Maybe he was the one high, in this instance : he still couldn't believe his nemesis was actually sleeping, sober and peaceful, in his embrace. If God had decided to be done with him and Agatha was His sword arm, Dracula decided then and there that it was a small price to pay for a few hours with her in his arms. And with that satisfying thought, he slipped in a comfortable slumber.
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Matrimonial Bliss
This is chapter 29 of my Modern AU longfic, but you can pretty much read it by itself. Newlywed, first time smut with Cullen and my gal Lydia Trevelyan:) Smut. NSFW. 
Pinned beneath him on their wedding bed, her light but needy touches froze at his words, I’ve never done this before.
He had never done it before?
And therein was her folly. He misunderstood.
Tentatively, ashamed, he moved off of her. “Cullen!” She exclaimed, rising from the bed and following him as he sat at the edge of the bed. With his back toward her, on her knees she wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her hand rested over his beating heart. He covered her hand with his, and therein was some softening, some victory.
“I was only surprised,” she assured. “That’s all. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I don’t know,” he replied with a sigh, though there was only a small semblance of defeat. “I…it was embarrassing I suppose.”
“It’s not embarrassing at all.”
“Well, I’ll be honest. Never really had the interest. Never dated really.”
“You’ve never liked anyone before?”
At his silence she sat by his side on the edge of the bed. Even as flushed and embarrassed as he was, he was a vision, with mussed hair and swollen lips from their previous kissing, and lightly stained with her red lipstick. Certainly, the two of them were making up for lost time.
She would have waited as long as he needed, but it was only a moment after she partook in her own version of the female gaze when he admitted he had one crush in his entire life, at the Circle before he came to Kirkwall, but he didn’t elaborate and she sensed he didn’t want anymore of that discussion in their bedroom on their first night of matrimony. Out of respect, she didn’t pry.
“But that was nothing, compared to this,” he admitted. “This is…you’re…” His eyes fixated on her lips, and she knew to him, she was extraordinary.
She would have wanted him even if it wasn’t new. She would have wanted him no matter what. Kicking off her shoes, she rose from the bed, standing in front of him. She took his hands in hers, and he too rose to his full height. This was one of her visions and fevered imaginings before he ever asked her to marry him, she remembered with the tiniest of smirks. The two of them, standing in front of a bed, their eyes dancing across each other’s bodies in a prelude dance before a dance of another sort began. But before, she could never have imagined the full richness of his amber eyes that were wide with desire, or the way he bit his lip to quell his want. She could never have imagined how warm his hands would be, or that she would take a Cullen with a scar across his lips, rough under her tongue, received after he defended her. Nor could she ever imagine that he would want her to make the rules.
Oh yes. He waited for her, ardently so, to move to kiss him, move to undress either herself or himself. She could be theatrical, grand and too much, so she threw her arms around him and lightly caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers. If he wore a tie she would have grabbed it, but instead she undid more buttons on his shirt as well as the suspenders he wore to their wedding, and skimmed the tip of her finger down as she went, the golden hair their tickling. He smirked, and she heard him inwardly call her a minx, a wildcat, his.
“How do you want it?” she asked, her voice like sugar.
“Anyway,” he said without hesitation.
She didn’t expect that. “Do you know what you’re asking?”
“Are you patronizing me?”
He spoke with laughter in his voice, and she returned it with the most daring thing she had done yet snake her hand down below his waistline, though she was tentative at first, light. When he responded with pulling himself closer, feeling his want against her belly, she squeezed his arse. He burst into a fit of giggles, burying his head in the crook of her neck.
“I wouldn’t dare,” she replied. “Just want to make you happy.”
“I am. Are you happy?”
“Happier if you kiss me.”
He obliged, capturing her lips, letting them fall to the bed, even though he was very vocal about wanting their clothes off, tugging at the satin straps of her gown. Asking her to hold on, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, dexterously throwing it to the ground in only a brief moment that broke the flow of kisses and caresses. Back on top of her, her eager hands glided across his bare shoulders and back, and he pressed deep kisses to every part of her face, every part of skin that her dress didn’t cover. He would have been content to kiss her all night she thought, as kissing was so new to them, and yes, it would have been enough for her.
But Maker. She ached, she longed.
And the night was only just beginning.
“Cullen,” she whispered in his ear. “Lay down.”
“Hmm?”
She repeated, “lay down.”
“Why?”
She laughed—a stubborn one he was, kissing her neck, but she was just as stubborn. “Because,” she said, “you should feel good.”
“I do feel good.”
“Cullen, let me take care of you. Take care of me all you want later, but now…let me. Please.”
He answered her by doing what she wanted, laying down, propping his head on a pillow. He was half undressed, while she was still in her white gown, though he had done a decent job of pulling down the straps. She left them there, as a treat.
“Lydia…”
“Shhh,” she bade, stroking his forearms, his abdomen, the line of his trousers, his clothed cock. He shivered, but still she asked if it was alright. Biting his lip, he nodded. When he was at last bare after pulling off his trousers, laying on the bed, and she was bedside him, letting the silk dance of her dress dance across his skin, she hovered on top of him, sinking down on his cock, regretting she didn’t get a better look beforehand. He gasped at the feel of only this, partially because even though he wasn’t inside yet she was still encasing him, partially because he was surprised that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments. Of the last point, he admitted it with a chuckle.
“I took them off when we came in,” she offered as a secret. “They were uncomfortable.” She let him in on another secret. “I’m also not wearing a bra.”
“Shame, I don’t get to see.”
He was already gripping her hips, moving along with her gentle movements. This was a first for her, she had never sat on a man’s thighs before with the intention to ride, and it took more thigh strength than she realized. But with each movement, there was a sweet ache, and the image of him. He threw his head against the pillows, and she quivered, her wetness bleeding onto him. Flushed, amber eyes peaking up at her, he nodded.
“Lydia,” he begged.
She took his tip, and then all of him at once. She cried out—for her it had been a long time and he was deep and fully encased. He asked if she was alright, said he didn’t mean to hurt her.
“You didn’t hurt me,” she promised. “It’s just…”
“Am I big?”
He had a smile of masculine pride. “Perhaps,” she offered, before telling him the truth, “yes.”
“Do you need to get off, or…?”
“No. I want to see you.”
It took a few moments of sweet torture, Cullen gripping her hips before Lydia took Cullen’s hand, kissing his palm. Maker she loved his hands—strong as they were and rough but not unpleasant. They were lived hands. Hers.
One more kiss to the palm, and then she moved.
He wasn’t a quiet lover. He didn’t even attempt to quiet his moans as she sank on top again and again. It inspired her to cry out, even as she craved more and began to touch herself. He became mesmerized by her own fingers, eyes trailed were she gathered up her skirts, and she hadn’t touched herself in so long that she had herself coming within near moments. And then Cullen came too, moments after her climax faded and he rose to kiss her. He came with their arms wrapped around one another, their lips barely touching. He was still so flushed, eyes sheepish even.
“I shouldn’t have."
“It’s alright,” she promised. “We talked about it earlier, remember? I’m on the pill.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, but he did tug at her hair, study her lips and eyes with intensity. And Maker he was still inside.
“Thank you,” he muttered sweetly.  
Their foreheads touching as they floated along, she kissed his damp temple. Angling herself off, mourning the loss that was at first too much, the two of them positioned themselves on the bed, Cullen wrapping an arm around her as she curled to his side. As she wondered if she should take off her dress, she peeked at him. He was still smiling, and would stay smiling until he fell asleep.
But before he did, she asked him about something he muttered earlier, when they first entered their bedroom in matrimonial bliss. She was standing by the window, looking at the lake outside. He chuckled at first, before explaining that he muttered “Cliodna,” to himself.
“What’s that?” she wondered, and he explained Cliodna was a character from old Ferelden legends, an Avvar priestess who roamed the world, searching for her lover. When he was little, his mother used to read him the story.
“You looked like her then,” he said, before amending it to “you look like her,” and she beamed with a strange pride. She reminded him of a childhood hero, a figure of his dreams. It was something she never thought she would want a lover to think, but everything she ever dreamed.
She put her hand against his beating heart, kissing him lightly. She could get used to those kisses. But he muttered something that surprised her, “I should have made you feel good too. And oh, her dear Cullen, the man she chose to marry, the man she wanted to marry.
“You did,” she promised. “You do.”
And, she thought before she drifted to sleep, there would be plenty of time for him to do all the other things he wanted.
a/n: sometimes smut is awkward, especially a first time, so I wanted to portray that.
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dapandapod · 4 years
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A soft plucking of heartstrings
So here I am, 2.30 in the morning, just finished a promptchallange from the fantastic @sleepingreader!  It may have gotten a little longer and a little softer than I intended, but please enjoy!  Here it is on Ao3!
Also, here is my challangers writings and I can’t tell you enough how amazing i find it! 
Soft plucking of strings. Spots of candlelight give the tavern a soft and homey feel. The patrons sit with rapt attention listening to the bard on stage with the cornflower blue eyes.
His eyes are closed, his voice dancing with the notes from the lute, weaving a tale of longing, heartache and lust. Every eye is fixed on him where he sits on the stage, no one can miss the raw emotion making itself known through music. Jaskier is lost. Lost deeply in his memories, in his feelings, in the words falling from his tongue and the soft vibration of the instrument in his arms. He loves this song, but it leaves a bittersweet taste. Especially when Geralt is around, as he is tonight, knowing what the price was. Everything is alright now, but the memory is still there. The pain, that hollow space carved out still makes itself known every now and then. The last tones ring out and Jaskier takes a breath before he opens his eyes and lets them roam over his audience. As soon as his eyes are on them they break into applause, almost as if they were waiting for him to return. He makes a sweeping bow and leaves the stage to sit down with his witcher. His witcher, yes. Geralt came to him after the disaster of a dragonhunt. It took them awhile to find their way with each other again and if Jaskier is perfectly honest he prefers what they have now. It’s fragile and honest and something entirely new for his whitehaired friend. Their friendship has blossomed into actual friendship now, not the push and pull of wills they had before. Now they see each other, and listen like they didn’t do before.
As soon as Jaskier sits down he gets showered in coins and ale. The patrons share their coins and their stories with him, what his song reminds them of, their own heartache, longing and lust. Geralt says nothing, just sips the ale pushed into his hand. The night is young and he is asked to sing another set, so he does. And when they finally retire for the night Jaskier finds his coin purse heavier than it’s been for a long, long time. He counts them out in their shared room, Geralt claiming the bed closer to the door and undresses. It’s entirely unfair of him to expect Jaskier not to sneak a peek as he takes off his shirt. Jaskier absolutely sneaks a peek, because expecting anything else of him would be plain stupid. And of course Geralt notices him staring. “What?” He asks over his shoulder and yup, time to kickstart the brain. “I have decided we stay another night.” Jaskier says, gathering the coins and putting them in the leather purse. “Why would we do that?” Geralt asks as he unlaces his trousers and yes, that's just unfair all over again to expect Jaskier to be able to hold a conversation with this view in front of him. Geralt pulls them down and Jaskier has to look away because Jaskier is many things but he is not cruel to himself. There is only so much he can take. Jaskier is also very good at lying to himself so he watches from the reflection of the small window instead. “Because today I have earned us more than we have gotten in months and it is time I give myself a- uh. Give us a treat. In the morn we shall go shopping!” Geralt snorts and lays down on the mattress. Jaskier swiftly undresses too, but takes a long time to fall asleep. He is mapping out all the stands he wants to visit and the sweets he wants to taste. And wants Geralt to taste! And with that image floating through his mind his eyes close and he drifts off.
When morning comes, Jaskier is almost bouncing with enthusiasm. It’s been a while since he dared spend coin as he will today and still expect to have some left for later. Geralt is slow out the door so he impatiently grabs him by the wrist and drags him along. If he had looked back at the witcher he would see a small smile curve and his finger flex, but he does not look and so it remains a secret. The first stall they visit has, surprise, knives. Geralt stops and admires the handiwork as Jaskier studies the rings next to them. The silver work is expertly done, but not what they had in mind. So Jaskier draws him to the next stand. And the next. They find a woman selling plums, the first of the season. She recognizes him from the tavern, and when they buy a handful of her plums she puts in two apples for them as well. Jaskier gives her the brightest smile and a squeeze of her hand. They find a stall with hair jewelry. Small beads to put into braids, hairclasps, ribbons and leatherstrips worked with fine details. Jaskier sends Geralt to find… something, anything that makes him go away as Jaskier buys two small beads of carved bone with intricate patterns and one of those worked leather straps. He adds a silver comb adorned with swallows for Ciri and folds it all into a piece of cloth. When Geralt returns he already stands two stalls over, a thick man with a thin mustache selling strings and flutes and for some reason, hats made of straw. They didn’t mean to, but a young girl on the street next to a barber shop grabs ahold of them as they pass. “Good sirs, are you not weary from your travels? If you follow me inside my father can offer the best trim of beard and hair this side of the river!” Geralt gives Jaskier a one-over and firmly nods. The bard needs some taking care of, he seems to decide, and they both walk out of there an hour later with hair newly washed and oiled up. Jaskier will never say it out loud, but he longs for the stubble to return to his witcher's face. The girl sees them outside and gives them a satisfied smirk. “Did I not say so, good sirs, that he is the best?” They nod their agreement and hand her one of the apples they were given. When they make it back out to the market Geralt stops by a big stand with tacks and blankets and brushes and many other things Jaskier is not very familiar with, but feels like they are meant for horses. Geralt picks out new reins from soft leather and grease to keep them smooth. He finds a big brush with long strands that looks the perfect amount of firm and soft, if Jaskier is any judge at all. And new saddlebags and, of course, a big bag of treats. Geralt opens his own money pouch to pay but Jaskier smacks his hands away and enjoys the feeling of giving. He likes that feeling, and all the gods know Geralt has seen too little of that in his life. “Jaskier, this is going to sound odd.” Geralt says after a good 30 minutes of ogling at a blacksmith stall. “But can I have the leather pouch for a moment, and can you go look at the bookstore?” Jaskier can only give a crooked smile and oblige, small butterflies making pirouettes in his stomach. And after a while Geralt comes to him, carrying a long wooden casing. Jaskier squints at him suspiciously, but Geralt simply can’t play fair and the smile he shoots him makes Jaskier lose his nerve and look away. It is a frightening thing, looking at someone you treasure so much without a hope of ever being treasured the same way back. To see them smile towards you as if they actually might. Jaskier buys a new notebook, Geralt a pair of new leather gloves. They buy a few jars of cherries and other sweets, and by then the sun is hanging low on the sky. The money pouch is very much lighter but not empty, just as he planned. Geralt walks them out on the fields, past farmers and cows and a cat on a fence, blinking at them with big eyes. Jasker simply cannot walk past the cat, her big eyes and pink nose and tail that is curling, even though cats' tails normally don’t curl. He bends down to pat her, and Geralt stays back. “Oh no, you big oaf, you come here right now and pet this cat.” Jaskier demands of him, but Geralt stays. “Cats don’t like me.” He mutters, and looks away when the cat leans against Jaskier’s legs, purring loudly. The bard reaches for his friend, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer. “This one doesn’t mind, do you my girl?” Jaskier croons at the cat, and she blinks up at him and then at Geralt. She doesn’t hiss, she doesn’t bite, she just purrs and waits. “I uh.. I never touched a cat before.” Geralt admits, at loss at what to do. So Jaskier drags him over and places his hand over his. Together they stroke the cat on the back. Geralt's skin is rough and warm under Jaskiers fingers, and the uncertainty radiates from his friend in waves. Jaskier is only a man, and he is a man with a day filled with treats, so he allows himself another one. With his thumb he strokes Geralt's hand before he releases it and sits back a little. He looks at the cat and then back to this big man, this witcher, this old grumpy lump of muscles he calls his friend and his… everything. He studies the way Geralt's mouth is slightly open in awe, and how the cat blinks at him and how he instinctively blinks back. How his finger lingers on the soft fur, how carefully he scratches behind her ear and under her chin. And then the cat wanders off, leaving them there to look after her. They look at her go, and then they keep walking to where Geralt was leading them.
As it turns out, Geralt was aiming for the riverside. They sit down a bit away from the water's edge by a big tree. The grass is tall and tickles his ankles where his trousers ride up. They sit close together and their shoulders bump every now and then. They listen to the water and to the birds as the day slowly settles into night around them. And then Geralt picks up the wooden casing and puts it in Jaskier’s lap. “I know it’s your money but I saw you looking at it and…” Geralt opens the casing and inside lies a beautiful rapier, inlaid with dandelions along the hilt and the handguard. Jaskiers mouth opens and closes and he reaches out a hand to softly touch the cool metal. “Geralt.” He breathes. “Geralt.” He looks up, looks down, his eyes stinging a little. “You shouldn’t have” He says when words finally return to him. He did admire it when they stood there, and he did miss the weight of a rapier in his hand at times while on the path. “In a way, I didn’t. You did. And I wanted you to have it and you have spent so much on me today so it was time you spent some on yourself.” Geralt says to him, and Jaskier can’t remember the last time his friend used so many words and for the simple reason to… to what, really? He looks up at Geralt, mouth working to find the right words but he can’t. “Thank you.” The smile Geralt gives him could buy the moon. It's soft and warm and only for him. And Geralt picks up one of the jars of sweets and opens it. He picks up a small cherry and holds it to Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier looks at it, and then into Geralt's eyes. He is watching intently and this doesn’t feel like something friends do anymore. But he opens his mouth and takes the cherry, Geralt's fingers brushing against his lips. A small tingling sensation rushes through him, and down his spine and out to his toes. They are still looking at each other, eyes locked, all smiles gone. And as the sun slowly sets, Jaskier leans forward, leans into Geralt's space. Their noses touch when the last rays of sunshine filter through the treetops. Their breaths mingle, eyes fluttering shut and then they share a soft kiss. Barely a brushing of lips. Jaskier leans over the wooden box, pusing it down on the grass to get onto his knees. Geralt's hand curve around his neck and the tingling explodes to fireworks under his skin. They press their lips together again, a taste of sweet cherries and sunshine and birdsong. They kiss again and again. Jaskier will treat himself more often in the future, he thinks as Geralt's arms snake around him to hold him close. Kisses that taste like cherry and pearls to braid into witcher's hair and apples and plums and sunshine. And when the morning comes he makes sure to give Roach a treat too. And when they make their way out on the path again, that pain, that hollow inside him is filled with feelings and hopes he never allowed himself before. As a treat.
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prolestariwrites · 4 years
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Open For Me [1]
Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Vergil/Reader Tags: Explicit sexual content, First time, First love, Violence, Death, Implied dubcon, Implied drug-induced sex Rating: M Part: 1 of 5
Summary: Vergil's life has been difficult as far back as he can remember, until he meets a young woman who saves his life. Can she save it again when he learns the truth of who he is, and bring him back from a dark and dangerous fate? A five-part story of pre- and post-canon Vergil. A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for months and I’m excited to finally be publishing. Thank you especially to @wordborne and @solynacea for feedback on this story. Credit to @drusoona for the Vergil pic above and the many sent my way that helped immensely. This story is written and will update every Friday, five parts in total.
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Chapter 1: February 1994
That’s the problem with being the strong one. No one offers you a hand. —m. t.
“Come on,” you whisper as you unlock the front door and slip inside. Vergil follows, and you lean around him to quietly press the door shut and turn the deadbolt with a click. Pausing, you listen for any sound, but the house is dark and quiet. The truck outside means that at least your stepfather is home, but it’s late enough he’s probably sleeping off whatever he drank for the day. Mom is working nights, so no chance of running into her.
You don’t bother to turn on any of the lights, leading Vergil carefully up the steps, making sure to avoid the one that squeaks. His presence behind you makes your senses heightened, because if either of your parents found out you brought a boy home they’d have your ass and you’d be lucky to make it out alive. You hadn’t said as much to Vergil, but he seems to know instinctively, and he is silent as he follows you up to your room in the third-floor attic.
Once safely inside, you shut and lock your door before flipping on the bedside lamp. The room is bathed in warm light, and you turn nervously to see what he thinks. Vergil surveys the room, his face expressionless, but you breathe a sigh of relief when he nods. “It’s nice,” he says.
“Thanks.” Suddenly embarrassed, you gesture to your bed. “Want to sit down?”
“Sure.” He drops his bag quietly and kicks off his shoes, well-worn boots that are too expensive to belong to him. Everything he has is too expensive to be his, the leather jacket that he shrugs off and hangs on the doorknob, the chain around his neck that holds something under his dark t-shirt.
Vergil is a street kid, one of the many that roam around selling drugs and shoplifting to get by, but he’s different. Even though everything he owns is surely stolen and he doesn’t go to school or have a job, he’s not like the other punks who hang out on the corners. You had seen him around a bit, coming into the community center once in a while when they hand out box lunches or to rummage through the clothes bin. There had been something about him, some kind of air that made him stand out from the usual homeless kids; as if he didn’t really belong, as if he was from somewhere else, some time else.
Finally your curiosity got the better of you. You hang there too, a place to go that’s not home, and one afternoon as he was looking around with a scowl, you dared to go over.
“I’ve seen you before,” you said, looking him up and down.
“No you didn’t,” he had answered.
To your surprise, he had actually seemed almost alarmed. So you changed tactics and asked, “You need some help?”
“I don’t need help,” he said. “I’m looking for a phone.”
You jerked your chin to the side. “Payphones are over there. Need a quarter?”
“Thanks.” He had taken your quarter and made a call, and afterward you told him about the shower in the back he could use if he wanted. He had hesitated, but then nodded, and twenty minutes later when he had emerged with his silverish hair all wet and slicked back you were almost in love.
He kept turning up, and whether you made sure to run into him or he made sure to run into you, you didn’t know. But somehow when you were there, he was too. You learned his name was Vergil, and he was on his own, seventeen years old, just like you. You are a senior in high school, but he never went, and you laughed when he seemed surprised at the suggestion.
“Where do you live?” you had asked him one day as you helped him load some clothes into the washing machine.
“Wherever I can,” he had answered shortly.
“You can stay with me, if you ever get stuck.”
Like most of the teens that frequent the center, Vergil started to help around the place, but most of the time he just hung around, watching you do homework or sweep the floor, using the place to shower and get dinner or just take a nap in the TV room.
It’s cold tonight though, so when you offered a place again, he actually said yes. It still surprises you, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watch him sit carefully on your mattress. He looks so out of place on your pink bedspread, which is too thin and too short but all you have. “Are you hungry?” you ask.
“Not really,” he answers. “Why are we being so quiet?”
You blush furiously at the question, moving to pick up some things you had tossed on the floor. “My stepdad is probably sleeping. He can be mean when you wake him up.”
“Sounds like an asshole.”
“Yeah,” you snort. You peek over your shoulder. “Not much longer though. I’m graduating in June and then I’m fucking out of here.”
“You’re leaving?”
You nod and dump the clothes in the hamper. “Yeah. I’ve been saving for a place. Gonna go to the city, get a job waitressing or something and try to take some classes. I want to be a nurse.”
Vergil considers this and nods. “You’d be good at that. When are you leaving?”
Shrugging, you reply, “I don’t know. This summer. Why, you want to come?”
His eyes widen slightly, then he surprises you again by nodding. “Yes. I’ll come.”
You smile and move to the bed, pressing your knee to the mattress as you straddle one of his legs. “Good,” you say, your arms going around his shoulders as his wraps around your waist. Then you lean down to kiss him, and your mouths seal together with a sigh as you settle on his lap.
It was two weeks ago when you had first kissed Vergil, stealing one when you were saying goodnight before heading home. You had been staying later and later just to hang out with him, and he was a regular now, there just to see you. Vergil even started walking you home, although you made him leave you at the corner, afraid your parents would see you walking up with a boy they wouldn’t approve of. It had been nothing more than a peck, but the next night he had kissed you properly, and every night since, leaving you in a daze when you turned down the block to your house.
His mouth is just as hot, just as firm, his lips lingering over yours. He slides his palms over your hips before slipping under your shirt, and you nibble on his lip as his fingers move upwards, his touch on your bare skin making you shiver.
The room is quiet, the only sound your heavy breathing mingling as he takes off your shirt and you unbutton his jeans. Shyly you undress before he climbs over you, and you run your hands over his chest, his body just lean muscle. Hanging on a thin chain is a red jewel, and you pause to examine it as he cages you in with his arms. “This is beautiful,” you whisper, but he cuts off any other remarks with another kiss.
His eyes are intense as he slides between your thighs. “Open for me,” he whispers. The red pendant hangs between you, the bedroom light making it sparkle just a bit, and when he lowers against you it presses firm and cool against your breasts. It’s your first time, and you wonder if it’s his too, but you’re too scared to ask because neither answer will honestly make you happy. So you pull him into another kiss as the head of him nudges against your opening, sighing into his mouth as he presses inside.
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Vergil sits on the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees, and thinks. Sleeping on a mattress had felt almost foreign to him, it had been so long; even on the nights when he ended up in a shelter or crashing at someone’s place, it was on the floor, or at most a couch. A real bed with a real pillow and blanket had given him a strange sort of unease, so he had spent most of the night watching you sleep, pleased with that at least.
The clock on the bedside table reads ten minutes until seven. He should go, but he is reluctant. It is bitterly cold outside, telltale frost on the window that shows the temperature is below freezing. It’s also Saturday, which means that the places he would normally go to, like the library or the mall, will open later than normal. He is also wary of running into someone on the way out and getting you in trouble. Even though he knows the way through your house already, having memorized it like second nature on the way in, a wayward creaky step or a loose board in the floor could alert someone he is there, and that would be disaster.
Most of all, though, he doesn’t want to leave you. Vergil glances over to see you still asleep, his lips curling into a small smile as he presses his mouth to his fingers. Last night had been… unexpected. But it was exciting and lovely and your kindness in giving him a place to stay was only second to how amazed he had been when you kissed him. He is always amazed by you: like a bright star, he thinks, something that gives life and warmth. But he is cautious, always cautious, because too much sun could burn.
Something shifts in the house, prickling along the back of his neck, and Vergil knows he made the right choice. A few minutes later there are footsteps in the hallway below, a door opening and closing, running water. Some muffled words and more footsteps, then the house falls quiet again, whoever it had been visiting the bathroom now back to sleep. Still, his presence is dangerous for them both, and they could have easily met on his way out.
You shift on the bed, your hand sliding along the bedsheet in your sleep. Deciding on staying, he lays back down, folding his arm around you to pull you against his chest. You are wearing one of his shirts, something that had made him snort when you asked, but it was endearing and Vergil was happy to lend something. Your legs curl around his and he sighs, trying to enjoy the peace and quiet.
How long has it been for him to have such a moment? Childhood, probably, before Dante would wake up in a ball of frenetic energy and tear through the house, feet slapping on the floor and his voice echoing down the hallway. Vergil would lay in bed like this, or sit on the windowsill, watching the snow fall or the leaves dance on the wind or the flowers peek out from the tree outside his window. Dante’s room was across the hall, but that had been Vergil’s place to himself, his thinking spot.
He looks out the window, swallowing uncomfortably at the memory. The last time Vergil had been in his room, he was looking for a tennis set. He had found one of the rackets but not the other, and he huffed around his room in frustration, debating if it would be worth checking Dante’s. Dante could never clean up after himself, and searching his room would be doomed from the start.
Deciding to check the backyard, Vergil had hopped down the steps, wondering where his brother had gone off to. Once he found the other racket his plan was to make Dante play a few games, knowing he could beat him easily. They were evenly matched at most things, but Dante was always better at sports than Vergil: except tennis, which is why it was his favorite game.
You shift next to him, and Vergil realizes he is holding you a bit too tightly. He eases his grip, pushing away the next set of memories of what happened as he hunted through the sandbox for the missing racket. His fingers are trembling, but he forces them to relax, finally rubbing soft circles on your lower back as you open your eyes.
“Hey,” you whisper.
“Hey,” he says back.
You yawn and press closer. “I half expected you to be gone,” you say sleepily.
Vergil chuckles. “I thought about it. But I didn’t want to leave you.”
“Good.”
He sighs, going back to staring out the window as you doze off. An hour slips by with him lost in his thoughts before you stir again, stretching your limbs before turning to smile up at him. “Hey again,” Vergil says.
“Do you want to hang out today?” you ask.
His brows dart up in surprise. “Sure, I think? You mean here?”
You shrug. “As long as we’re quiet. No one comes up here. You can stay here if they call me for something.”
Vergil nods, but doesn’t let himself get excited. Another night or two under a roof is too much to think about. Instead he rolls a bit to cover you with his body, his hand firm on your hip.
You sigh and press your face into his neck, and Vergil swallows thickly. Holding you like this, the only person who has ever been so kind to him… it’s a bit overwhelming, and he needs to take a few minutes to ground himself. Being alone has always been the plan: it’s safer, less messy, less likely to attract the demons who inevitably find him. Whenever there has been a bystander who gets in the way it just brings trouble, so Vergil makes it a point to stay away from humans as much as possible, venturing near them only when he needs something.
But you… his thumb runs circles on your hip before his palm slides up to your waist. You are small and fragile and wouldn’t stand a chance against the things that hunt him, but staying away from you seems impossible now.
“Are you feeling okay?” you ask quietly. “Seems like you’re thinking about something.”
Vergil shakes his head. As he bends down to press his lips to yours, there is a drop of emotion that feels unwelcome: fear. He had long ago stopped being afraid, years on his own teaching him that only strength and discipline matter, that hesitation and fear only brought weakness. And weakness means death.
“Vergil,” you sigh, and he kisses you again, firmer this time as he presses one leg between your thighs. Arms wrap around him as fingers slide into his hair, the sensation thrilling and soothing at the same time. His heart is racing as his hand reaches out to grab the bedsheet with a fierce grip.
Beneath the surface of his skin and muscle something pulses in his blood, something he has felt for years but cannot name, something wrapped up in his DNA. All he knows is the drive to unlock it, whatever it is, but it has never been so clear or so fierce. Vergil has the sensation that whatever part of himself is still hidden is just out of reach, but being with you here brings it closer than ever, and he wonders if you could be the key. Anxiety mixes with desire and it is confusing and terrifying but he wants more of it, more of you.
The bedroom door slams open and you both break apart, jolting with the sound. Your hands press to his chest, pushing him off, and you slowly rise to take in the half-dressed and half-drunk man that stumbles in the door. “What the fuck is this?” he growls, pointing at Vergil. “Who the fuck are you?”
“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, trying to push around Vergil. “He’s a friend of mine, and needed a place—”
“Fucking slut! You brought a boy home to fuck in my house?” he shouts. He takes another step forward, swaying slightly as his words slur. “Your mother’s too soft on you, I been saying it. After I kick his ass I’m gonna teach you a lesson, whore.”
Vergil can feel you go tense behind him, a little noise escaping. But he feels settled, faced with a threat he can understand, and he shakes off your grip to step into the middle of the room. “Disgusting pig,” Vergil spits, scoffing when the man gapes at him. “Turn around and leave if you know what’s good for you.”
The man lets go a string of curses that are barely coherent before he crashes forward, swinging. Vergil easily sidesteps him, his reflexes quick as he grabs him by the back of the neck and launches him towards the floor. He bounces against the wood, shouting as his chin cracks open, and when he rolls Vergil kicks him in the stomach.
“Vergil! Stop it!”
Your voice is the only thing that stops him. It pulls Vergil back from where he kneels over the man, fist raised to connect with his face. Vergil takes a few deep breaths, feeling the pulse of his power subside to a manageable level, and beyond that, the taste of what he cannot unlock, taunting him to hit the drunk and see what happens.
The stepfather looks up with wide eyes, as if shocked that he is on the floor, and Vergil makes a face. He reeks of beer and his face and neck are smeared with blood, two things Vergil hates. He stares back, jaw tightened as he grits his teeth; but as he lowers his fist he sees a bit of red tingeing the corners of the man’s eyes.
It is not the red of a night of drinking or of stumbling bleary-eyed from sleep: it is the red flash of a demon.
He stands and hauls the stepfather up, ignoring your protests. “Stay here,” he barks, dragging the man out and down the attic steps.
Once they hit the hallway, Vergil uses his real strength to slam him against the wall, nearly hearing his teeth rattle. He lifts the man easily and leans forward to threaten him. “I know what you are,” Vergil growls.
“What—”
“I can see you,” he seethes, talking to the demon. “This human left himself wide open with his vileness, didn’t he? So you listen.” The stepfather holds his breath as Vergil’s grip tightens. “Make sure he leaves her alone. Don’t speak to her, don’t look at her. Or I’ll come back and take care of you as well, understand?”
The man nods, so Vergil lowers him slowly. He lifts a hand to wipe blood from his mouth, and after shooting him a glare he pushes past and into the bathroom, slamming the door. Tension radiates through Vergil’s body but he purposely keeps it in check, taking his own moment before climbing the stairs back to the attic.
He finds you sitting on the bed, clutching the blanket tightly. “What happened?” you whisper.
“Nothing. He won’t bother you.” Vergil grabs his bag before moving to where his boots lay, leaning over to pull the laces. “I should go. I’ll see you—”
“Wait!” You run over and launch yourself, catching Vergil around the waist. He looks down in surprise as you hug him tightly, damp face pressed to his chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmur.
Vergil tilts your face up with a frown. He looks at your eyes, eyes that are free from any trace of demon, before stroking your cheek. “You don’t have to go,” you say, and Vergil nods, knowing that leaving is impossible now.
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crystalgirl259 · 3 years
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The Flame and the Dragon Ch12
Chapter 12: The New Clothes
Kai didn't want to move. Even as the noon light poured through the window, taking him from the other reality of sleep. Taking advantage of the sudden wakefulness, his stomach took the time to growl. The pain of emptiness effectively ruined Kai's sleep. The boy growled and tried to sink deeper into the soft pillows and comfy mattress. His hand reached to pull his comforter tighter around his body. Except there was no comforter and the pillows were not his.
Surprise shocked Kai into wakefulness, and he looked around his room frantically to try and figure out where he was.
This bedroom was not his back in the town. The bed was too soft against his aching skin. The pillows his head was snuggled against were too fancy. The bed and furniture too rich for what he and Nya earned, no matter how much they saved up, and the outline was nothing like the room he'd created for himself in his father's house. Last night suddenly came crashing back to him. A hand rose to gently press against his temples while the other braced his shaking form.
The reality finally sank in that all the events of the previous day had not simply been a nightmare as he had hoped.
It had all been real. Kai certainty didn't feel real, though. Nothing about this felt real to him. He really wanted to feel like he'd suddenly followed a white rabbit and fallen through the rabbit hole, and awoken in a twisted version of his once-favorite fairy tale. He'd dreamed about this before but never in his life had he ever dared wish for it to come true and yet here he was. The prisoner of the Dragon Lord he'd read about every day since he was little.
Living out his sentence in a magnificent castle that haunted his thoughts, and sleeping in a room that suited a prince.
Kai just froze, stunned as the utter impossibility of his situation crashed against the sheer actuality of it. He shivered, pulling the covers tighter against his bare skin, the only warmth he had was the baggy sweater rubbing softly against his chest. It was then he realized something. A shiver of dread suddenly crawled up Kai's spine as the cool air suddenly bit the bare skin of his arms, legs, and torso. Slowly, very slowly, he looked down at himself and found he was wearing nothing but a red sweater and his boxers.
He screamed in both anger and shock, before growling and wrapping the covers around his naked body.
His face turned as red as the sweater, despite the fact no one was in the room. He wondered what had happened before the answer suddenly crashed into his mind, making him see red all over again. His fists clenched the fabric so hard his knuckles went white. It had to be Cole who undressed him while he was asleep and couldn't do anything. He had ordered the servants to not speak to him, so he doubted they took a peek in while he was fast asleep.
Kai growled low in this throat.
He searched frantically for his clothes and only found a neat pile of different clothes at the end of the large bed. A letter sat on top of the pile. Kai stood up and snatched the paper off the pile, using one hand to keep the baggy sweater on him. His name was written in elegant black ink.
Dearest Kai,
As I'm sure you are aware of, you have no clothes, and no, it was not I who undressed you, but I refused to let you roam around my castle in your filthy mud-stained clothes. Therefore, as an act of kindness, I've provided you with a new outfit until the seamstresses and tailor can create a new wardrobe to suit your liking. I suggest you become acquainted with them soon for I will not be around to provide for your needs if you do not take it upon yourself to see if they are met.
Sincerely Cole.
Kai growled and crunched the note into a ball in his hand, unsure if he should be grateful or angered at the note's tone. Any kindness Cole had tried to place in it was stained by the sheer arrogance he could just hear behind the words. It was like Kai was a child and Cole was teaching him how to take care of himself. However, that last line burned a blush across his face. He crumpled the note in his hand and threw it across the room before scanning over the clothes.
Kai couldn't deny the clothes were lovely.
They reminded him of the garments he'd seen when the family had lived in London for a time. The clothes in his arms seemed unique as if they were made just for him. He growled in frustration before swallowing his pride and pulled the sweater off. It was either accept Cole's gift or go naked. At this point, he wasn't sure which was worse anymore. The long-sleeved burgundy red shirt fitted against his lean form and was trimmed with white cuffs.
Black pants with a slit from just below the knee to the floor sculpted his legs then flared at his ankles and the hems had gold designs.
The slender knee-high black leather boots with gold clasps completed the outfit. Once he was fully dressed he jumped to his feet and spun around in front of the mirror as if testing out the outfit. He hated to admit it, but the clothes were perfect. He noticed a crimson sash on the bed. He snatched it up and walked over to the vanity mirror and wardrobe, both were empty of garments but to his happiness, he found a wooden box of old accessories.
He dug through it until he found a gold cross-shaped pendant with a ruby at the top bottom and on each arm of the golden cross.
He looped the sash threw the loop at the top and carefully tied it around his neck in the form of a chocker. This was so much better. He smirked to himself, admiring his appearance in the tall mirror. Lloyd would have loved these clothes. He was always Kai's chief fashion advisor back home. Kai chuckled as he started remembering all the times he and Lloyd had spent their afternoons filling their diverse wardrobes. Realization crashed into him again.
All enjoyment was quickly sapped from his face until he matched the shocked, broken face in the mirror.
He hadn't thought about Nya and Lloyd since he had woken up. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting even for a moment why he was there. He leaned his head against the mirror, before sighing in defeat. It didn't matter now. Kai had made his choice and he could only hope and pray they found happiness. As if answering his prayers for a distraction, his stomach suddenly howled its protests, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything since the previous morning.
His argument with Cole was still fresh in his mind, but he wasn't going to let that arrogant bastard starve him.
Kai stormed to the door before carefully gripping the golden handle. He gave it an experimental turn and found it was unlocked. He turned it completely and pulled it open. No one was outside. The hallways were dark as they had been the previous night save for the light seeping through the skylights overhead and the burning candles. Kai smirked, but deciding not to tempt his luck. He carefully scanned the hallway before slipping out of the safety of his room and slid against the wall.
Nothing moved.
No one acknowledged his presence. In fact, the castle seemed as deserted as it appeared when he first arrived in this hell-hole. Smirking in victory, Kai strolled through the hallway past the wide windows and descended down the staircase. Now all he had to do was find the kitchen...
****************
Echo sighed as his back hit the wall. He put up no resistance as his lover ravished his neck with small kisses and caresses against his bronze skin through his dark brown suit as his golden yellow eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. The touches sent a shiver of delight through him. Cole had put Jay there to guard the door and to tell the lord when Kai woke up. When Echo walked past, however, Jay became a little distracted.
"Jay..." Echo moaned through half-lidded eyes.
"Yes?" The ginger-haired teen smiled.
"We can't stay here, we'll get caught." He said and gestured to the hallway, behind them, though Jay had been sure to hide them behind the curtain first. They dreaded the thought of anyone other than Ronin or Tox should see them. Having been the best of friends as teens, a hundred years together in a castle had only caused their bond to grow and bloom until neither could deny the love between them. They mutually agreed to keep it a secret.
At least until the curse was broken.
Hopefully, if they were right about Kai Smith being the answers to all their prayers, they would all be fully human again and then, while everyone was happy and celebrating, they would tell Zane about their relationship, and Echo's older brother would take it a whole lot better than he would have done before.
"Aw, do we have to?" Jay whined and Echo could only laugh. Jay was such a child, but Echo loved that about him. It certainly didn't stop Jay from being serious when the situation called for it.
"You want someone to find us?" He teased.
"Of course not! Do you know how over-protective Zane is? He'll never let me see you again, or do something worse." Jay panicked as his breathing and heartbeat started to speed up in fear. Zane was Echo's older brother and everyone in the castle knew that nothing would stop the yeti from making sure his brother was safe, not even Cole. Zane would let hell freeze over before he let anything dare to harm his little brother in any way, shape, or form.
The very thought was enough to send Jay into a fit of panic attacks until he felt Echo's gentle hands on his arms.
"Then we need to keep quiet about it, just for a little while longer." He replied, disappearing through the curtain. Unable to resist, Jay swooped behind him before wrapping an arm around his lover's waist and stealing a kiss from him. Only to then ceremonially dropped him to the cold floor. Echo hissed in shock before he stared back at Jay's shocked face.
"Kai!"
"Kai? That's something you say when you're kissing you're boyfriend?" Echo growled angrily. Jay turned to Echo then threw his hands up in defense and shook his head.
"No! no! no! Look!" He pointed behind his upset lover. Echo turned his head just in time to see their new brunette guest disappearing down the stairs...
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holylulusworld · 4 years
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Desperate Souls (1)
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Summary: Sam calls for company and get’s much more than expected.
Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Escort!Reader
Warnings: angst, shy reader, smut, unprotected sex, soulless Sam (cause he’s a fucking warning!), fingering, dirty talk, shower sex, talking about prostitution, possessive soulless Sam, a hint of violence
Kinktober Special: Sex for money
Kinktober Specials
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Your heart pounds in your chest. Throat dry, hands shaking you knock at the door of your client. His voice deep and gruff he orders you to enter the room.
The knot in your stomach tightens when you enter the room seeing a tall man smirking at you. His blue jeans hang low at his hips. Chest bare, just like his feet he shows off his chiseled torso, defined abs and a rock-hard cock straining against his pants.
“Come in, strip…” He orders and you gulp, glancing at the floor. “Gosh, I told them I don’t want the shy school-girl number,” Sam mutters striding toward you, lifting your chin with his index finger.
His hazel eyes seem to bore into your soul as his intense gaze makes your knees buckle. “Shit, this isn’t a role you are playing. You really are shy, princess.” The smirk is back, and Sam leans close, sniffing at your hair.
“I…I’m sorry.” You choke out, hands playing with the seam of your dress. “This is the first time I’m doing this…” Voice barely audible you glance up at the freaking tall man.
“Sex or offering your sexy body for money?” Sam rasps. His large hands slide over your arms, stopping at your upper arms, gripping you tightly.
“Offering my body for money.” You whisper looking away, ashamed. “I can call the service for a better girl. I understand you want someone more experienced…”
“No…I think I’d like to have a taste of you. Hmm…I can almost smell your arousal. Does offering your body for money turn you on, dirty girl?” Sam whispers in your ear and you start to shiver. “I want to fuck you deep and hard on this bed. Maybe for more than once. Can you take me?”
Sam let go of you to circle you like his prey. Your body goes stiff the moment you feel his body pressed against your back, and his erection pressing against your butt. “Do you want to do this? I will pay you well, maybe even with one or two orgasms, Baby.”
One rough hand moves down your thigh, dangerously creeping close to your mound. Sam’s hot breath is in your neck, he grunts as you wiggle in his grip. “Relax. You’re going to like it. What’s your name, Baby?”
“Y/N…shit…I told you my real name. Don’t tell my boss. He wanted me to call myself Candie…”
“I prefer Y/N.” The tall man grunts as he cups your mound, pressing his index finger hard down your clit. You moan feeling him playing with your little nub. “You’re so wet for me. Did you play with this pretty pussy before you came here?”
“Noooo…” You stutter, gasping when he moves his hand into your panties now slipping two fingers into you. He’s burying his face into your hair groaning. “Such a tight little cunt. How many guys did you fuck?”
“Two…” The word choked out you spread your legs wider, letting the man behind you finger fucking you. You want to feel ashamed, embarrassed to enjoy having sex for money but he brushes over all the right spots, letting the fire spread through your core.
“I’m Sam. I want you to scream my name when you cum. But…” He chuckles, retreating his fingers. “…only on my cock. Strip, leave your panties on. I want you to bend over the desk over there.” Sam orders and you nod, slowly stripping your clothes off.
There’s a rumble leaving his chest glancing at your naked form. You dare not to look over your shoulder so you lean over the desk, waiting for Sam to have his way with you.
You don’t need to wait for long as he kicks your legs apart, sliding your panties down with one aggressive move.
“You know…” Sam groans. “You should be way more careful. While you undressed and bend over I locked the door. You told me your real name and now…” He opens his pants, letting his heavy and hard cock fall against your ass. “I’m going to fuck you bare.”
His words full of threats he presses one meaty palm against your lower back before you can scramble away. The tip slips into you and he did not lie. He is pressing into you without protection.
“Sam…not without…protection.” You squeak feeling the tall man spreading you out like no one before. His girth is almost too much to handle. Gasps leave your lips as he pulls slowly out to slam back into you till he’s bottomed out.
“Hmm…look, you are taking me like a pro. I think I will teach you one or two things tonight.” His eyes roam your body while he waits for you to adjust to his size.
“Sam…you need to pull out…”
Sam is deaf to your arguments. He rather gropes your breasts, rolling your nipples between skilled fingers. “I’m gonna come deep inside of you. Make you feel my cock filling you up. I want you covered in my spunk.” Sam growls.
“I…”
Sam starts moving his hips. Fast and hard he pounds into you without holding back. He enjoys the way your pussy stretches over his cock, almost clinging to his thick shaft.
“You like that? Do you like being fucked by me?” Sam growls behind you, grabbing your thighs roughly as he starts pumping harder into you. “You feel so good wrapped around me.”
“Sam…”
Gasping, grabbing the edge of the desk you push back onto him, moving in sync with the tall man railing you. He’s relentless, rough and almost too hard to handle but still he tries to make you feel good.
The way he moves inside of you is determined to hit the right spots, one hand slips between your legs to rub your clit as he whispers dirty nothings along with praises into your ear.
“Y/N come for me…” Sam orders and you try so hard to do so. The coil is tightening, your whole body is covered in sweat so you move your hips faster with Sam’s till you feel him filling you up, pushing into you as deep as possible to fill your womb as you writhe on his cock.
“Such a good hooker coming for me. Taking me bare.”
When he pulls out you want to grab your clothes, but he shakes his head, licking his lips. “No…shower, now. I want to see your face when you come on my cock again.” Sam muses.
—-
The water cascades down your body as Sam picks you up, holding you against the cool tile wall to slide into you with one hard stroke.
Wetness is coating his cock and your face is flushed seeing the knowing look onto his face.
“You like my cock…huh? Do you want to cum again?” Sam rasps as his lips nip at your neck. “Yes,” you cry out moving your arms around his neck as he starts crushing his hips against yours.
Your soles dig into his lower back to let Sam go deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside of you. Cries erupt from your lips as your walls tighten around his cock, causing the tall man to move his hips faster. The grip on you tightens and you look up at him as he throws his head into his neck spurting into you.
“Perfect…”
—-
Waking up you feel rough hands exploring your body. Sam is spooning you, sucking hickeys into your shoulder.
“Your next mistakes, Y/N. You let me have you thrice without negotiating about the money. You took me bare again and you fell asleep after round three. I could’ve killed you.” Sam whispers as he ruts against you.
“I know. Maybe I shouldn’t do this job. It was just my last exit…you know.” His hand slips between your legs, sliding through your folds.
“Tell me why…”
“I have to pay back my studies. I lost my job and my boyfriend kicked me out of our apartment. I was crashing at a friend’s place but he wanted…you know.” Your voice is trembling while Sam is busy marking your body more.
“So you thought if he wants sex for letting you sleep on his couch you can sell your sexy body. Hmm…I don’t like it…” Sam mutters tightening the grip on you. “Where do you live now?”
“Still at his apartment but I pay him rent…”
“Did you fuck him?” Now his voice is full of anger but he calms when you shake your head. “Good. Tell me where you live, we are going to talk to your ‘friend’.”
—-
His knuckles are bloody. There’s a dangerous glimmer in Sam’s eyes as he towers over your unconscious friend.
“Your last mistake. Bringing me to your apartment. This could’ve meant death to you. Now I’m going to have to teach you a lesson. Take the empty duffle bags I brought with me and pack your things.” Sam orders.
“Why?” Your eyes meet Sam’s as he ignores your friend and strides toward you, pressing you into the wall.
“You are mine now. I will take you with me and ruin this goody in two shoes girl I had thrice last night. I want to make you scream my name every night and maybe, just maybe I’ll let you go one day…”
“I can’t…”
Sam’s features darken as you try to reason with him. He dips his head, lips only inches from your ear he hums before his hands grip your upper arms. “You are mine now. We match perfectly fine. Two desperate souls. Now pack your things. I want you bare in the backseat in fifteen.”
Not accepting any arguments Sam nips at your neck, marking you once again.
“Sam…”
“You should’ve left before I had a taste of you. Now, hush, hush and get your stuff or I’ll take you with me without anything you need. You're mine…say it.”
Your eyes round and you bite your lower lip. Your mind is racing, just like your heart but at a second thought, you’ve got no one in your life. No job. No family. No hope.
“I’m yours…” Leaves your lips, sealing your fate.
>> Part 2
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Divider by @firefly-graphics​
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katerinawinters · 4 years
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The Witcher: No Turning Back Chapter 6
"The life of a witcher cannot and will not be stationary one."
 That was what Geralt told her the day he announced they were leaving their quaint cottage.
 "What?! We're leaving our home," she stared at him in shock, the wooden sword she was holding sagging in her hands.
 Giving her a meaningful look towards her sword he commanded her without words to lift it back into the proper position. "Mmmm," he murmured in that frustratingly deep voice as he took a few steps towards her with his own wooden sword held ready. "We need supplies, you need experience in battle beyond my teachings, and I…I need to move freely lest I lose my mind."
 Dodging his blow, Ciri tumbled to her left and struck out with her sword at his shins. Not surprisingly Geralt's wooden sword met hers perfectly stopping the assault.
 Standing up, Ciri wiped sweat from her brow and gave him a narrowed look of frustration. "What of the Nilfgaard army? What if we are spotted?"
 Twirling his sword with a skilled playfulness that still suggested at a note of deadliness, Geralt gave her a taunting smirk. "And what if the mountain we sleep under each night succumbs to the constant rain we have been getting and crushes us in our sleep?" Holding the sword in that peculiar way he was so fond of, more like a dagger rather than a sword, Geralt approached her slowly. His eyes alert but playful while his steps were cautious and purposeful. "What if someone had spotted us on our way here and went back to report to the Nilfgaard general where exactly we are, what then?"
 Annoyed, all Ciri wanted to do was throw a rock at the man's head but she knew he was doing this on purpose. Geralt was not a cruel man, she knew that firsthand. A cruel man would not hold her each night as he had been doing for a week now, using his warmth and silent strength to shield her from her dreams and comfort her through her unwanted memories.
 Knowing that there were only a handful of attacks he could perform from his current position Ciri readied herself as he approached. She watched as the muscles in his exposed forearm flex as he begun to spin the sword.
 Now.  
 Tossing her sword to her left hand she caught it midair as she took two running leaps, one foot landing on his left thigh just as her sword hand blocked his and her to her foot landing higher near his right hip taking her higher until she could lift both legs in one leap. Geralt's mild look of surprise was the last thing she clearly saw from his face as she locked her thighs on either side of his head pushing him backward onto the ground with a mighty thud. The move almost toppled her off as well but she held on, pivoting her weight backward as she rode him down. With his face buried between her legs, she held a wooden dagger she secretly crafted the day before over the spot between his eyes.
 Triumphant she cheered with unbridled glee. "By the old gods, I did not know if that would actually work but it did!"
 Grabbing her knees Geralt pried them apart just enough to free his face. His amber eyes were practically alight with raw intensity. But he made no movements of reprisal, he just sat there still gripping the tops of her knees looking up at her from between her legs.
 Self-conscious of her position, her instincts told her to move immediately but she did not. Staying where she was, she tilted her head, pushing back a few locks of her hair, and gave the witcher beneath her a questioning look. "Will we come back?"
 As if he was completely fine with the position, he let his hands continue to rest on the curve of her bent knees and shrugged slightly, causing her whole body to move under the gesture. "If we can. If this place is still here for the taking."
 "But if we can and if it is?" she stressed. "We will come back to stay." Ciri did not want to leave their little cottage. It was like a hidden realm untouched by war and death, a place where she could finally breathe.
 "Only for a short time," his tone was deep and final but she could see a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Once we can bypass the Nilfgaard army safely, we continue onward."
 "Onward to continue my training as a witcher, right?" she pressed.
 "Yes." His eyes drifted down from hers and settled back on the juncture between her legs as if he was casually taking stock of the position, they still sat in. Curving his hands over the rounds of her knees he let them slide up the tops of her thighs until they rested at her hips.
 Ciri's sex clenched at the feeling reminding her yet again she should move from this completley improper position. Not just yet, she thought, willing herself to ignore the building heat in her core as his eyes slowly dragged from the seam between her legs to her eyes again.
 "And once I am a full-fledged witcher," she whispered, "what then? Will you leave me to go back to journeying alone?"
 His gaze dropped from hers and his grip on her hips tightened. Lifting her up, he sat upright placing her back down until she sat astride his muscular thighs. Nearly chest to chest they say together staring at one another before he finally answered. "I will say this only once Ciri. Unless there comes a point in time where you decide to go your own way, I will never abandon you."
 Placing her hands on his chest, Ciri gave him a determined look. "I will never want that."
 Geralt smirked. "Then there is nothing else to discuss."
 #
 "I told you to behead it," Geralt's infuriating 'I told you so' tone rumbled next to her.
  Holding both arms outward Ciri grimaced as she looked down her chest to the rest of her gunk covered body. Black sludge and viscera covered her practically everywhere. Pursing her lips together so none of the disgusting sludge would get in her mouth, Ciri pulled her shirt outward and wiped her mouth with the inside of the material. Looking down at the eviscerated goblin Ciri stepped carefully away from the felled creature trying her best to pick a spot not covered in sludgey black organs to step on.
 "You still need the head," the deep bored tone of the witcher reminded her from somewhere behind her.
 Ciri stopped and stiffened, not even daring to look at the white-haired man. She knew without the need to look he was clean from the disgusting gunk and most likely giving her that knowing smirk she knew all too well. Annoyed with him and herself Ciri pulled her silver dagger from her belt and poked the creature. A technique which was considered cheating by the witcher academy but one Geralt taught her nonetheless. "Technically you should know if a creature is fully dead by the killing blow you delivered, but I cannot tell you how many near misses I have had and the needless deaths others have had because a creature they thought was dead turned out to be still quite alive." Seeing no reaction from the creature by the touch of her sanctified blade, Ciri re-sheathed the dagger and grabbed the goblin by its grotesque head and began cleaving it from its neck with her sword.
 With head in hand she turned back to see Geralt standing with Roach, both taking in the state of her.
 "Luckily for you there is a river nearby," he said, turning and leading Roach to follow.
 "Yes well, aren't I just so lucky," she mumbled trudging along behind them.
 Grabbing a sack from Roach's pack she bagged the noxious head and tied it to the saddle. Grabbing a clean strip of cloth, she began wiping her sword. Both of her weapons were gifts from the witcher. He had given them to her on the second week into their journey, having them both made in a small-town blacksmith he seemed to use in the past judging by the friendly familiar greetings he shared with the smithy. When she realized what he was having made and why, Ciri nearly cried, it took all of her willpower to hold back the tears as he handed her the new blades. She knew they had cost a lot; she had watched Geralt hand the man a large sack of coins and another smaller sack of silver to use for her dagger. Money, where once in her life had no real meaning was now a dominating factor in her life. Meticulously wiping the blade down, she promised herself that tonight before she fell asleep by the fire and next to Geralt's side that she would clean and care for the blade more in depth by the light of the fire.
 After a while of walking she could hear the sound of water as they approached and finally stopped at the river's edge. It was more like a stream in her opinion. A river should be a swelling strip of water with a steady current, rich with life and depth. Not a measly trickling thing such as this. With no real choice, she approached the water's edge and bent down testing the water with her hand.
 Pulling back with a hiss, she turned her head and glared at the man who was now leaning against a tree. "It's absolutely freezing," she informed him with every bit of blame she could muster in her voice.
 Arching one brow he gave her a deadpan stare. "It's winter, Princess."
 Tsking underneath her breath Ciri turned back to the water and stood up straight. Having grabbed her change of clothes from Roach's pack beforehand she set them down near her. Knowing Geralt had no intention of leaving the area, Ciri began to discreetly undress. Kneeling down by the water she dipped her cloth in the frigid water and began to wipe herself down while her mind wandered to the sweet daydream of the time, they had their very own bathtub. Just thinking of the nice warm tub and their cozy little cottage, that was most likely plundered by roaming savages by now, made her want to throw something.
 "Now tell me what you did wrong," Geralt ordered.
 Suppressing the urge to sigh heavily, Ciri continued washing off the grime. With her top completely off, she began to strip off her pants. When she first did this, weeks ago now, she was shaking like a leaf. Getting undressed in front of Geralt seemed impossible, but the witcher gave her very little options. She could either bathe with his protection or she could go to bed covered in monster guts.
 Sitting on a big lumpy rock near the water's edge she sat down completely naked as she quickly and discreetly washed between her legs. Down and loose from the bun she usually kept it in, her ashen colored hair created a curtain around her back and shoulders giving her a modicum of privacy.
 "I know where I went wrong," she admitted, recalling the fight with the oversized goblin. "When I had the opportunity to take its head, I hesitated forcing me to bring my blade up at my flank from his belly to his chin." Its engorged belly full of sickeningly black guts, she thought with a lurch to her stomach.
 Using her bar of soap that had a faint scent of lavender, a purchase she made recently in the last town of Subik they visited, Ciri began scrubbing her hair.
 "And why did you hesitate?" Geralt pressed, his voice still coming from his spot near the tree line behind her.
 Cupping handfuls of freezing water, Ciri rinsed her hair thoroughly. By now she was practically frozen to the bone, but she was clean, she thought with satisfaction. Ignoring her dripping wet hair, she quickly dressed in her clean clothes, washed her soiled clothes, and stood up casting a furtive glance to the witcher.
 Amber eyes caught her immediately. As usual there was nothing there, no flush of desire, no awareness of her as a woman, nothing to register that he recently had full view of a naked young woman--just cool indifference.
 Dropping her gaze from his, Ciri walked past him to the area of their camp for the night.
 "I didn't think I could do it," she admitted.
 "Explain," he said darkly.
 Dropping her supplies near the base of a large tree she picked up her soaked clothes and began hanging them to dry on nearby branches. Pausing in her movements, she thought of how to answer.
 "I didn't think I could physically cut it off," she said, embarrassment and shame coursing through her. "I felt that the blade would have just gone partway through and…"
 "And what?" the sudden sound of his gravelly voice directly behind her made her jump a little.
 Quickly hanging the sodden top over the branch, she turned to see his wide chest inches from her face. Wearing his black shirt and black fitted pants and boots, the outfit made the white of his hair and gold of his eyes stand out somehow even more so. Hanging in one of his hands was a strip of dry cloth. Silently he lifted the material and wrapped it around her neck, wordlessly commanding her to dry her hair.
 The simple action made her skin tighten with goosebumps and her eyelids grow heavy. She wanted to step forward and bury her head into his chest. Ciri wanted to nuzzle the V shaped opening at his collar that exposed the hair on his massive chest beneath. She wanted his touch, but she knew she could never have it.
 Taking the cloth into her grip she began rubbing her hair before answering. "And I didn't want you to see me fail at something so simple."
 Her words seemed to echo briefly in the air between them before slowly fading away into the silence. The witcher said nothing. Seconds ticked by and Ciri could not seem to pull her gaze away from his chest and meet his. Why wasn't he saying anything?
 Finally, Geralt moved stepping back to turn around. Walking to Roach he began to rifle through his bag, a slight chuckle carrying on the breeze.
 Pain hollowed her stomach at the sound.
 "Honestly, I fully expected that to happen," he turned back to her with a grin before taking a drink from his canteen.
 Giving him an incredulous stare. "You did?!"
 "If you were able to cleave the head off that goblin in your first try, I would have seriously spent the night tending to my wounded pride," looking at her confused expression he let out a deep bark of a laugh. "Every young witcher in training, hell anyone in training whether they be warrior or knight has to develop the strength and skill to wield a weapon, especially to take off a creature's head in one fell swing."
 "Then why didn't you just tell me that in the beginning?!" she stomped.
 Settling down against the large tree she previously put her stuff next to, Geralt leaned against it with a slight groan. "Because princess, you need to learn that failure is a reality in life."
 "It never seems to be for you," she mumbled taking her designated spot next to him, a routine they have done every night since they met.
 "You have no idea," his dry chuckle seemed more for himself, as if he was briefly lost in a memory.  "Now sleep."
 Preparing to lay down on her bedroll she paused. "You're not going to bathe?"
 "I rather not bathe in the dead of winter in a freezing river when we will be in town by sundown tomorrow. There, I will take a nice warm bath maybe even with some paid company."
 "Fine!" she huffed, immediately angry at his illicit intentions. Though he had threatened to enjoy evenings with paid whores before, he never actually done it, at least not with her. Ciri wasn't fool enough to believe this man has not indulged in such activities in the past she just rather hoped he was just teasing her. The thought of him spending the night with someone felt like a knife to her back. Giving him one last scowl, she settled into her bedroll before mumbling. "Continue to smell like a horse's ass."
 She knew without looking that the evil man was smirking and she tried her best to calm down and focus on going to sleep. Snuggling deeper under her wool blanket she waited for the familiar pressure she had grown accustom to.
 The sound of the winter breeze whipping through the trees was all she could hear as she waited--and waited. Ciri's stomach tightened in rejection as her mind began to race with worry. Why wasn't he doing it? He did it every night? It was something she looked forward to, needed even. When he first did it, on the first night after leaving their cottage she gave him a questioning look. He told her even witchers need to sleep and told her it was for her safety that no matter what happened he would know the moment something happened to her. So why wasn't he doing it now, she screamed in her head!
 The sudden heavy weight of his hand settling on the curve of her hip nearly made her wilt in relief. Immediately, her body relaxed as she soaked in the heady heat his hand radiated. Closing her eyes Ciri slept.
 #
 Dismounting from Roach Geralt walked ahead of her and stopped to talk to a portly man standing next to the large double doors. With his arms folded and his expression tired, if not a little worn he spoke to Geralt in a low tone Ciri could not quite hear from where she stood with Roach. It was dusk when they entered the bustling town. When Geralt mentioned the town off-handedly earlier she imagined it to be a small village or maybe a clone of that depressing little village they saw nearly months ago just before they were attacked by those fleders. No, this town was not like that at all. It was easy to tell that whoever the mayor was of this town, they kept it in somewhat decent order. The streets, although while being dirt and still caked with mud from the never-ending drizzle of rain, had boards running down the middle that allowed people to walk on and avoid the thick piles of mud. Guards were stationed sporadically around the town and patrolled the streets regularly, keeping a silent air of order as people walked to and from, some smiling and some looking determined as if late for work despite the time of night. Like everyone she had seen thus far this rotund man was obviously of the merchant class from the greased stained canvas apron that hung from his hips, his disheveled hair, and overall wearied demeanor.  The man looked the sort that got up before the sun each day and got to work until well after sundown.
 Ending his conversation with the man, Geralt walked back towards her and grabbed Roach's reigns. Located at the corner of town near the large bordering stone wall that encircled the town, the barn in which Geralt started walking towards sat next to a large two-story house. Like all the building's in town, the house seemed to be made of partly stone and wood. Large dark boulders stacked tightly on top of one another framed the whole bottom half of the house, reaching to what Ciri could only assume was the second floor before changing into the wood-framing of the house. She wondered if it was built that way in case a fire broke out. Fires were one of the biggest fears when living in a village made mostly of wood. One fire could easily breakout and destroy a whole town by nightfall, killing many and undoubtedly leaving scores of people without a home. But if the houses were stone or at least partly stone the damage wouldn't be so bad.
 Leading the horse across the muddy strip of road that curved in front of the house and barn, Geralt stopped just inside. Cold and musty, the barn was dark and dank. She could hear at least two other horses inside snuffling and shifting around in their stalls.
 "Wait here," Geralt said, looking beyond her head at the stall behind her. "Put Roach in the stall near the back on the left."
 She opened her mouth to ask him where he was going, but Ciri stopped herself. She already knew, didn't she? He told her last night what he intended, so why ask him now. She didn't want to hear him say it, she wasn't sure she could stand to hear the words spoken again. Jealousy burned bitterly in her throat as she simply nodded. Securing his sword, he turned and walked out the stable door.
 Heaving a heavy sigh, Ciri looked to Roach's large glossy eye. "Come on, let's at least get you settled."
 Walking him to the stall Geralt indicated, Ciri backed the obedient horse into the stall. She left his saddle on, just in case they needed to leave in a hurry. Looking around she spotted a small pile of hay near another stall, thankfully the loft hatch door above was left open allowing a little moonlight from outside to filter inside. Grabbing two big handfuls of hay she walked over to Roach who was giving her a much more eager look now.
 "Oh, I see someone is perky," she whispered as she held out the dry hay for him to munch on.
 Despite her still lingering jealousy over Geralt "activities" for the evening she couldn't help but smile at the feeling of Roach's mouth gently rubbing at her palms as he dined on his hay.
 Looking to her right, further into the dark crevices of the barn, she let out another heavy exhale as she held her hands steady for the horse. "Mmm you think I should try and find somewhere to lay down in here for the night, Roach?"
 "Why would you do that?"
 The sound of Geralt's rumbling voice made her jump in surprise. Whirling around she was beyond shocked to see the giant white-haired warrior only standing a few feet away from her. Pulling in a deep breath, anything to try and calm her racing heart, she let her eyes drop to the large sack in his hand and her eyebrows furrowed in question.
 "Grab my pack from the saddle and come on," he gestured past her to where Roach stared at them curiously in his stall.
 Doing as she was told; she ran to catch up with him as he left the stables and turned towards the side door of the large house from which the grease stained man from earlier went into. Stepping through the doorway, Ciri nearly sighed at the warmth and the delicious smell of warm bread filling the small hallway. Down the hallway she could see a set of narrow stairs leading up while on the other end was a doorway leading beyond to what she assumed was the greater living space and another that led to the kitchen where she could see movement.
 The man from earlier stepped out from the doorway to their right, both of his thumbs were hooked into the band of his apron and he gave them a narrowed look. "Upstairs, fourth door on the right," he instructed before sternly adding. "And just for one night, you hear, witcher. We are even after this."
 Geralt gave the man a silent look. It wasn't menacing nor was it friendly, just a stoic look from his naturally aggressive face that held just a bit too long, enough to make the man squirm. And just when the man opened his mouth to say something Geralt finally gave him a nod.
 "Consider this full repayment."
 Geralt turned to walk up the stairs.
 "Wait," Thomas cleared his throat awkwardly and turned to grab something from an older lady who peered worriedly over his shoulder before slinking back into the kitchen beyond sight. Turning back to them with a large basket in his hand he thrusted it to Geralt. "It's just a bit of food."
 Looking at the basket, he still held high in his hands as if inspecting a foreign item Geralt eventually lowered it and nodded to the man. "Many thanks."
 Going up the narrowed stairs they came up to a dark landing. There wasn't even a candle lit, just a window at the end of the hall that let in so little nocturnal light that it was almost useless. Geralt however had no issues managing the dark hall, walking past by many shut doors he easily found the door they were instructed to and walked in. She so needed enhanced night vision, she thought with a pout as she followed him inside. A few mutant modifications to her person, sure, it would be well worth it, she figured.
 The room was much larger than she imagined, and far cleaner too. The furnishings were simple: a few bedside tables, a large lumpy looking feather mattress on a simple wooden frame, a fireplace, two worn area rugs that had seen better days, and the absolute pinnacle of the room--the focal point where both her and Geralt stared at with near lust--a huge wooden tub.
 "Ar..are we…?" she stammered with disbelief in her voice.
 "Yes," he grumbled with pure satisfaction. "A little over a year ago I stepped in and killed a vampire who had taken it upon himself to use Thomas's inn here as his personal layer. Thomas couldn't repay me at the time but I told him I would most likely travel this way in the future and here we are," he explained.
 Setting his heavy leather saddle pack near the bed she flopped onto the floor, not wanting to dirty the bed linens with her mud stained clothes.
 Setting the basket and sack cloth on the floor in front of her, Geralt lowered himself to the floor as well letting out a deep tired groan. Delving into the sack he produced two large bottles encased in a form fitting wicker weave and a few meat pies wrapped in thin muslin. Handing her the still warm pie, Ciri couldn't stop herself from taking a greedy bite as she watched in gleeful excitement as he pulled even more delicious goodies from the basket. Sinking her teeth into the meat pie, Ciri shut her eyes in pure pleasure as the rich flavors of the seasoned meat and toasted pie crust came together in her mouth. They had been eating good on their journey, wild vegetables and freshly killed game each night but this--this was far different. Bread and spices mixed with meat, was simply a savory treat she hadn't experienced in what felt like forever.
 Leaning against the bed's frame Geralt pulled one knee upward while letting his other stretch outward as he tore off a hunk of bread. Using a knife, he pulled from his boot, he used it to spread a generous amount of butter he found wrapped in waxed paper before handing her the slathered piece.
 Ciri paused for a second and looked up to him. His amber eyes glowed warmly as he stared back at her with an air of amused patience, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.  Grasping the crusty edges of the bread, she was surprised to find it soft and still warm.
 "Thank you," her voice was so low it was nearly a whispered.
 He said nothing. Slathering his own piece of bread, he took a large bite out of it while grabbing a roast leg of duck.
 Silence passed between them for a few moments, just the sounds of the fire crackling in front of them and the occasional sound of people hollering and talking from outside as they passed through the streets.
 Uncorking one of the bottles Geralt poured two cups and handed her one. "Tell me," he began, handing her a cup with an obviously less amount than his own. "Why did you think I would leave you in the stables tonight?"
 The piece of bread she was attempting to swallow got caught in her throat. Grasping for her cup at her side she took a big swallow of the mildly sweet wine. Coughing she looked up at him in tears. The mild look of amusement in his eyes didn't helps her pride.
 "I…I thought you said you would be enjoying other…activities…tonight," she struggled with the awkward words, unable to meet his gaze.
 Geralt let out a short bark of laughter before shaking his head. "I was joking Ciri, witchers may not be considered human but trust me when I say I do have the rare capabilities to attempt humor."
 Feeling her face heat in embarrassment, she nodded as she focused on her the honeyed pastry in her hand.
 Slowly the silence that descended on them once more, gradually changed into a comfortable one once again. Wrapping the remainder of the uneaten food and packing it into their satchel Geralt looked to the giant empty tub and back to her.
 "We only get to fill it up once," he said, his expression serious.
 Ciri let the full implications of his words settle in before her eyes widened in realization. Nodding her head slowly she looked at the gigantic tub. "I see," she said with forced calmness.
 It made sense she thought, as Geralt turned on the spigot that stuck out from the brick in front of the wooden tub. The spigot was connected to a pipe that most likely ran to a cistern that sat on the roof. Heated by coals, the cistern would only have a very limited supply of hot water. Two large baths were just not feasible.
 Standing up, Ciri grabbed her bag from the pack and walked to the far corner of the room. As the water filled the tub, she began to undress. Fishing out a long piece of clean cloth, they kept for potential injuries that may need to be wrapped, she used it to wrap around her breasts while leaving on her underwear.
 "Clever," he said from across the room.
 Still crouched, Ciri peered over her shoulder at him. He was shirtless wearing only his trousers which were untied in the front leaving them to flap partially open, giving her the barest hint of dark hair just below his pants. Whipping her head back around, she stared at the wall in front of her as her heart thrashed against her breastbone.
 Behind her there were sounds of water splashing and shifting.
 "It will be a tight fit, but the water is hot," he informed her, his silent encouragement to hurry was not lost on her.
 Taking a deep breath to steady the nervousness in her stomach, Ciri stood up straight. He has seen you completely naked, she told herself, there was no real difference now. Stepping up to the tub, Ciri forced herself not to peer through the water's depths at the rest of the witcher's body hidden beneath. Although, she thought as she stepped in and lowered herself into the wonderfully hot water, he had seen her naked nearly a dozen times now it would be only fair if she saw him in return. No, she told herself, she would resist looking and just be content with what she did allow herself to look at with absolutely no shame and no limit--his bare chest. With her knees drawn up to her chest, for modesty's sake and as well as to allow the huge witcher plenty of room she laid her cheek against her knees as she watched contently as he soaped himself. It was such a massive chest, she thought. The type of chest her grandmother would have lustfully called a barrel-chested sort. Broad and covered in hair, his chest was thick and solid setting the tone for the rest of the man's extremities. Like his arms, his chest bulged with muscles with each movement. In Cintra, Ciri had seen countless knights, warriors and secret lovers pass through the halls and fight on display and had witnessed her fair share of men's naked chest. But she could never remember any that matched this man's body. Instead of a soft belly that told a story of the man's diet, Geralt's was flat and rippled with muscles down to his tapered waist--it was highly unusual for a man his age and highly distracting.
 "Stretch out your legs," His deep voice cut through her thoughts forcing her to tune back into the present.
 Looking up at him she shook her head. "I'm sorry what?" she said, wanting him to repeat whatever it was he just said.
 "Stretch out your legs, relax," he repeated. "Here, give me your left foot." Holding his hand out just below the water's surface he waited for her to abide the softly given command.
 Slowly she stretched out one leg, her toes pointed out straight, until it settled into the warm cradle of his hand. Positioning her leg over his own until it laid partially over his right thigh Geralt silently called for her other leg. Lowering her knee and obliging, Ciri left herself exposed with only the now translucent material of her makeshift top to cover herself in the ever-lapping hot water that surrounded them both. Placing her leg in the space below his bent left knee, Ciri let out a nearly inaudible exhale of contentment at the new position.
 No words were spoken as contentment settled through them both. The now milky, soapy waters were slowly cooling as they both lounged with their arms outstretched and their heads back. Ciri hardly stirred when she felt Geralt's firm but gentle grip on her leg, picking it up and readjusting it to a new spot. Lackadaisically, she heard the sound of water cascading down and felt Geralt get up from their tub leaving it noticeably empty, but Ciri could not muster the strength to open her eyes instead she found herself falling deeper and deeper into an all-consuming sleep.
 Nuzzling deeper into the soft fabric beneath her Ciri turned towards the source of radiating source of heat next to her. Hot bare skin seared wonderfully against her face as she let out a small sleepy sigh of contentment. The silken skin of her legs glided against each other, sending muted signals of alert into her subconscious mind. Her hand reached out and met a wall of heat, unmoving and searing to the touch. A deep rumbling groan vibrated around her in response.
 Ciri opened her eyes and her heart froze. Laying shirtless on his back next to her, Geralt had one arm extended out which she was currently using as her pillow. Becoming more and more aware of every breath, movement, and twitch of muscle as the seconds ticked by Ciri could feel the thick bicep under her head with perfect clarity. She was surprised by the comfort the immense knot of muscle had given her as she slept--but not now, not anymore. Now, she was aware and too stiff to do anything other than focus on all the heart-stopping facts namely the fact that she was naked. Taking a shaky breath, she amended that thought, not naked just practically naked. Wearing a long shirt, one she was positive belonged to Geralt judging by the deep woodsy male scent of the fabric, she knew by the pressing feel of the fabric against her naked breasts that she wore nothing underneath.
 Shifting stiffly next to him, she risked a glance upwards to his face and froze. Amber eyes stared at her through the dim light of the room. The blazing fire she had watched dance in the hearth earlier was small and pitiful now, barely lighting the dark room. But Ciri could see Geralt clearly. There was just enough trickling moonlight coming from the window to illuminate the hard-rising planes of his chest and the golden hue of his eyes. Geralt said nothing as he let his gaze linger on hers, his stare not harsh but certainly not placid. There was something there, something pooling in those amber eyes that made her want to turn away, to run, but at the same time wrap her arms around his neck and whisper all the shameful things she wanted him to do. Her breath came out in shorter more rapid bursts of air as she lost herself in his eyes while desperately searching for the right words to say.
 A deep feminine torment lit within her eyes as her body began to react to his presence. Anxious and restless all at once, she did her best not to fidget against him while praying she could somehow make some space between them. Although he had yet to utter a sound and made no movement besides blinking, she felt as if everything around her was growing too unbearable to stand. The sheets beneath and around her were too hot, his muscled arm under her head was too hard, his large body next to her was too overwhelming. Even her own body was beginning to betray her. Her breasts felt heavier as his fiery amber gaze lowered to her lip that she held between her teeth. Tingling and hot, her sex reacted to this bold perusal making her want to shift in discomfort. There was something cruel and wonderous about his slow-moving gaze over her features that made her want to growl and sigh at the same time. Ciri had to get up. She had to leave this bed or she was going to implode-- or worse, do something incredibly stupid.
 Making to move backward, Ciri began to slide herself away when she felt Geralt shift suddenly. The brief confusion in her eyes turned to shock as she felt his other hand glide underneath the covering and settle on her naked hip. The shirt she wore had risen above her hips in her movement baring her from the waist down beneath the covers. Geralt's expression remained unchanged as he gripped her hip and kept his gaze locked with hers.
 "Wha…" Her words were lost on her lips as her sex turned to liquid heat by his next action.
 Curving his hand purposly along the rounded flesh of her ass, causing her to shiver, he let his large callused hands dip down until he was able to grab her thigh and lift her leg, parting her. Withheld breath, she watched him with her eyes wide and mouth agape as he fitted his muscled thigh between her legs. Shifting until both hands were now placed on each of her hips and her head now laid against the pillow, Geralt gave her hard look.
 "Go to sleep, Ciri,"
 Ciri's mouth just hung open as she barely took a breath. Here she was completely naked from the waist down with his trouser clad leg shoved between her legs, how in all the gods' names could she ever sleep?!
 Seeing her unspoken answer to his ludicrous command, he gave her look that said she would regret it.
 Tightening his hands at her hips, he forced her hips backwards, forcing the delicate folds of her now moist sex to glide across the rough material of his trousers.
 Ciri let out an audible gasp at the feeling. Balling her fists, Ciri attempted to push him away or at the very least push herself out of his grip but before she could he was pulling her forward until her hips nearly touched his. This time the moan she tried to fight back before broke from her throat. Back and forth her sawed her aching sex across his covered thigh watching her as she weakly succumbed to the exquisite torture. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the firm rounded flesh as she rode his leg. Adding to the torture the feel of his hands moving to grip the fatty flesh of her ass made her moans grow louder. Somewhere deep in her mind she wondered at the image she presented right now, moaning and begging in this witcher's arms as he forced her to find pleasure against him.
 "Geralt please," she panted. "I want… I want us both to…"
 His brow furrowed in concentration. Geralt looked from her to her lips as if he was warring with himself to kiss her or not, all the while his movement of her hips became frantic. "Ciri," he interrupted her with a harsh growl ordering her full attention. "Come now."
 The fine thread that held her sanity together and that had worn away with each movement of his hands snapped. Ciri let out a small cry as her world burned away under the power of her release.
 Boneless and exhausted, Ciri laid there panting against the pillow as Geralt slowly slid his leg from beneath her, smirking at her for the first time as she let out an involuntary moan at the movement against her still aching and sensitive clit. Pulling her shirt down around her waist until it properly covered her again, he draped an arm over her, pulling her closer to his heat.
 "Now sleep."
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evanstanwrites · 4 years
Text
Run part 3
Mob! Bucky x Reader
warning: violence, cheating (not Bucky or reader), fluff, SMUT +18 only
a/n: thanks to my wonerfull co-writer: @pawfect-melody​
a/n: this is my entry for @marvelgirl7​ her 500 followers celebration, congrats again hun
masterlist  
part 1     part 2
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Weeks after the day Bucky and Steve saved Y/n her body was still covered in dark bruises. After their shower Bucky called dr. Banner to check her out, his verdict: a concussion and 2 broken ribs. So in those 2 weeks Bucky made sure she didn't need to leave their bed and played nurse, he made sure she took her meds, helped her shower, fed her,... Bucky finally took a break from work and didn't set one foot inside his office, leaving everything for Steve to handle. Steve understood and was more than eager to take over for a while but not before Bucky took the last step for his revenge plan, he had to take care of y/n's father.
********
 It was early in the morning when Bucky's alarm sounded through the room making him groan out and pull the warm body cuddled against him closer. Not much later the alarm sounded a second time. 
“Buck, turn it off or get up.” y/n muttered from her place against his chest. Bucky groaned again but reached over to the bedside table, shut the alarm off and cuddled back against her. Just when he was about to fall back asleep there was a pounding on the door of their bedroom. Y/n tenses in his arms at the sound, even after a month of being back home there were things that still trigger her, which he completely understands but it never stops breaking his heart.
“Bucky! Get up, we need to go man, we got work to do!” Steve's voice sounds through the door after he stops pounding it. 
Bucky places soft kisses on the top of her head as he makes no move to get out of bed. “Buck, get up and go to work, i'll be fine.” y/n chuckles 
“But i'm comfy.” he whines 
“c’mon Buck, do it at least so Steve won't start banging on that door again.”
“Okay honey, I won't take too long.” he says as he gives her a quick but sweet kiss, yells to Steve he'll be out in a few and gets out of bed to get ready. Once he gets out of the bathroom he sees that his girl is fast asleep again so he pulls the covers over her shoulders, places a kiss on her forehead and he's out of the door with Steve heading for y/n’s father’s office.
*****
It's still early but he knows that the only person that would be there is your father, his employees would normally start to come in about an hour or 2 after him. 
So once they reach his office they don't bother to knock and just walk through the door. shocked y/f/n looks up from the woman who was on her knees in front of him sucking his cock.
"Well well well, what do we have here? Your wife isn't good enough anymore ?" Bucky chuckled darkly as he walks deeper into the office. 
"What the hell are you doing here? And leave my wife out of this!" Y/f/n growls back making the woman on her knees snap her head up in disgust. "You have a wife?" She asks before standing up and running out of the office.
"That's one thing taken care of." Bucky says as he sits down on the couch against the wall and makes himself comfortable by laying his feet on the small coffee table. Y/f/n quickly pulls his pants back up and demands again why the two are there.
"Well can't your future son in law not visit his fiance's father ?" 
"You were my future son in law James. Y/n is dead, there will be no wedding anymore." He says in fake mourn. 
Bucky pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts playing with it as he gets up and walks to the desk.
"Well that's where you're wrong, there will be a wedding. Y/n is alive, safe and sound where she belongs, home with me." Bucky tells him as he places his phone under his nose, the screen lit up with a picture he took yesterday of him and y/n cuddling on the couch. 
Y/f/n starts to stutter as he picks up the phone to have a closer look.
"This can't be real,.... ,she's dead. The cops told me she was dead." 
"Oh cut the crap man, you really think I wouldn't find out? That y/n wouldn't find out that her own father had her kidnapped and then sold to Stark all because you didn't want me to marry her? Why? I made your daughter happy, gave her everything she wanted, loved her more than anything. And I still do. My only goal is to treat her like the goddess she is." Bucky growls at him as he walks around the desk and stops behind his chair. 
"You know what? Don't answer that question,I don't want to know. I'm only here for revenge, nobody hurts my girl, not even her own father. I should kill you right now." He whispers in his ear while pointing the gun he took from his holster to his head.
Y/f/n froze, afraid to even make a sound. 
"But how would I explain that to y/n? No I have something better in mind." Bucky growls and looks to Steve who is still leaning against the wall next to the door. 
"Steve, the paperwork." 
Steve walks to the desk and places a folder in front of them.
"Let me explain these." Bucky starts as he opens the folder. "These are transfer papers transferring your whole company and possessions to y/n, all it now needs is your signature." Bucky tells him as he holds out a pen to him.
"Why would I sign these? Y/n never wanted this company, are you really taking everything I have for a silly stupid girl that…." Before he could finish his sentence Bucky had already hit him right in the face with the handle of his gun, splatters of blood from his nose falling all over his shirt.
"Don't you dare finish that. Y/n changed a lot because  of your actions, she gets to decide what she does with this company.Now sign or i'll make the rest of your life even more of a living hell." Bucky spits at him.
With shaking hands y/f/n picked up the pen and signed the papers. 
"Good, now leave my fiance's office before I change my mind and kill you." 
In silence he got up from the chair and walked to the door but just before he could walk out Bucky threw one last warning at him.
"Don't you dare come here or near y/n ever again, I won't hesitate to kill you." 
********
Later that night when Bucky came home he found y/n already in bed watching one of her favourite tv shows.
“Hey beautiful, how was your day?” Bucky asks her as he walks over to the bed, gives her a sweet kiss in greeting and starts to undress from his black suit and puts on some sweatpants leaving him shirtless. the papers he brought home with him placed onto the nightstand.
“Hey handsome.” she smiles “It was good, I had a walk in the garden and had lunch with Natasha. bucky I know that Bruce said that I had to rest as much as I can but I’m sick of resting, I need to do something, maybe even find a job. you know I don't want to be a housewife.” y/n rambled making Bucky chuckle
“ don’t worry doll, I know and I have a solution for your little problem.” he says as he climbs in bed next to her and picks the papers from the nightstand and hands them to her.
“Steve and I visited your father today.” 
Y/n tenses at the mention of him name.
“did you kill him?” she asks but already knew the answer
“No doll, i wanted to but I didn’t. I made him sign these papers for you.” he explains as he points to the papers in her hands.
“ transfer papers?” she gasped “you’re giving me his company?”
“well technically he is but yes, everything he owns is now yours doll. you can do with it whatever you want.”
“so if i wanted to give most of it to someone else that would be okay?”
“of course doll, it’s yours, you can do with it whatever you want.”
“well James do you want to take over the company? I'll give you a personal assistant with it.”
“you sure you want to do that?”
“yes, I know nothing of running a company”
“well is it a hot PA?”
y/n laughed and playfully slapped his chest. 
“It’s me.”
Bucky snatched the papers out of her hands throwing them to the floor and crawled over her placing soft kisses all over her cheek and neck.
“even better, the hottest and best PA I could ever wish for.” he said between kisses that grew hotter
“oh Bucky” Y/n sighed as she threw her head back to give him more access to the sweet spot behind her ear. Bucky latched on to it making her moan out in pleasure, hands start to roam her body till they find their place on her breasts.
“tell me to stop at any moment doll and I will.”  
“please don’t, don’t stop Bucky” she moans before pulling him from his spot in her neck and kisses him. the kiss starts out sweet and slow but soon she feels his tongue slipping between her lips and the kiss turns into deep and full of hunger. he’s devouring her. y/n’s hands roam all over his broad form trying to feel all of him, she needs to feel him close to her, to reconnect body and soul. her hands stop when she feels the multiple scars that cover his body and suddenly she knows how much she missed in his life. how much he had needed her and she wasn’t there, not even knowing if she was still alive. all those times she had needed him, hoping he was still looking for her. but now she was here back where she belonged, back in his arms. 
Bucky pulled back once Y/n let’s out a soft sob.
“Doll, i’m so sorry, did I hurt you? what’s wrong?” he asked softly wiping the tears away.  
“I just missed you so much, I wasn’t there when you needed me. how can you still want me.”
“No doll don’t say that, you were always with me.” he says as he lifts her hand and lays it over his heart.
“I always carried you in my heart with the hope that I would find you again, you’re it for me, always were and always will be. I would run miles just to see you smile, to keep you safe. don’t you see my love? I love you more than anything, you're my home.” he smiled at her as he dried her tears. “ I love you” he whispered against her lips.
“I love you too.” she whispered back before he kissed her again with all the love he had for her as his hand slipped down under the shirt y/n was wearing,his shirt, and started to massage the soft skin under her breast making her suck in air between heavy kisses.
“please Bucky” y/n moaned once he broke the kiss and kissed his way over her jaw down to her neck where he latched back on that special spot behind her ear, knowing very well he would leave a purple bruise. 
“please what doll? tell me what you want.”
“You, I need you, please Bucky”
“I got you doll, don’t worry, i’ll take good care of you.” he breathed in her ear as he placed himself between her legs and ran both hands up and down her ribs.
“let’s take this off okay doll” he more asked then stated but y/n didn’t respond with words, before he could move to take off her shirt she had already pulled it over her head making him chuckle at her eagerness. but as soon as her shirt hits the ground she jumps him like a lioness making him fall back with her on top of him.
“you’re taking too long my wolf.” she smirks as she pulls his sweats and boxers down. Bucky just smiles back at her and kicks the garments out of their way, leaving him completely naked under her. 
“well now you got me, what are you gonna do with me?” he smirked
“just wait and see my love.”
she straddles one of his thick thighs after she removed her panties and lowers herself so her clit touches his skin making him moan out at the feeling of how wet she already is.
“God, you’re already dripping for me. You gonna fuck yourself on my thigh? Oh my dirty girl, make yourself cum.” he growls as he grabs her hips and starts to move them over him causing shock waves of pleasure to go through her whole body.
“oh god Bucky!” she moaned at the feeling
“Yeah doll moan my name. fuck you look so good right now.”
y/n moaned out again as she ran her palm over his cock that laid hard against his stomach.
when she reached his tip she wrapped her hand around him and started to stroke him at the same rhythm of her hips.
“fuck doll that feels good, always so good to me.” he groans out.
after a few strokes of both her hands and hips she felt him twitch in her hand, he’s close.
“you’re not cumming like this my love, don’t want this to be over yet.”
bucky chuckled “me neither doll, me neither.” he said as he lifts her from his thigh leaving a wet spot.
“I want you to fuck me doll, my cock missed that pussy of yours.” he growled as he makes her straddle his hips and holds his cock at her entrance so she could easily sink down on him, which she did. 
“Fuck, Bucky!” she moans out at the feeling of his cock stretching her out.
once her hip meets his she stills on top of him.
“please doll, move, I need you to move.” bucky almost begged
“I need a minute, i haven’t had sex since the morning of graduation. I feel like a virgin again.” she chuckled
“I'm so sorry doll, you can have as long as you need.” he says lovingly as he pulls her down by her neck till their chest to chest and kisses her sweetly and full of passion.
somewhere during their make out session they both fall to their sides with him still buried deep inside her making them both giggle.
when y/n pulls back to catch her breath she strokes some hair out of his face and softly whispers: “Make love to me James, my wolf.”
“I always will doll, I love you so much y/n” he said when he slowly pulls out before pushing back in setting a steady pace.
“god I love you too” she moans as he hits her spot that makes her see stars and soon she begs him to go harder.
“harder Bucky, fuck me harder.”
and Bucky complies, how could he ever deny the woman he loved?
he never would.
you could call him a sap or a love sick puppy but his doll was his world, his queen and he would do everything to make her the happiest she’s ever been.
she runs his world.
please don’t forget to like, comment or reblog
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ayakashiramblings · 5 years
Text
ABC NSFW Headcanons: Aoi
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In celebration of Aoi being released, here we are, coming for him! … Wait… no…   Also, I am going to age him up to 18 years old because again, that’s the legal age in Japan. Finally, ignore the ‘Location’ part. 
A - ‘Aftercare’ (What they’re like after sex)
Boys, meet your king and take some notes from the student, y’all. 
Wipes you down and helps you shower, keeps you hydrated and even wraps you up in a burrito of blankets. 
He does ask ‘How was it?’ because I have a feeling you are his first so he isn’t experienced but would let you set the pace.
B - ‘Body’ (Body Part of Yours he Loves)
Aoi is the kind to worship you.
But let’s be honest. You’re his first woman. 
He will HAVE to go for the boobs. 
It doesn’t help they are the only things stopping him from being completely consumed in your heart.
Tease him with them and he will lose it.
C - ‘Cum’ (How does his cum taste like/look like)
He is not even 20 yet but the poor boy is overworked. 
So when he gets a release, it will be in HUGE amounts, albeit not in a complete one-shot and in gradual intervals. 
The good news is that he probably cooks for himself so knows to eat his veggies. 
Moreover, he doesn’t consume alcohol which would have affected the taste/amount of the semen. 
He did indicate a slight interest in Ramune bottles though so I don’t think it’s going to be THE perfect taste. 
Definitely in the top 2 though; slightly sweet with a tangy after-taste.
D - ‘Dirty Secret’ (DUH)
Has always wanted to paint… on your body.
It could be of anything, some sensuous flower, fierce animal or your favourite quote from a good book, he just wants to mark you in every way possible.
So why not his own art?
E - ‘Experience’ (Does he know what he is doing?)
One word. 
Student. 
He’s probably blushing like mad even after trying to discreetly read the books he loaned from Ginnojo… 
Which lead to an awkward study-buddy kind of thing as they debated between themselves on how certain positions were even possible.
Both failed the theoretical but at least Aoi will get practical points later...
F - ‘Favorite Position’ (Again, duh)
He wouldn’t know much in the beginning but after a bit of experimentation, he settles for...
Coital Alignment Technique. 
That technically was only defined in 1988 BUT that is not the point.
The giver lies above the receiver, moving up until his erection is pointing “down,” the dorsal side of the penis pressing against the clitoris as he penetrates.
Essentially, it’s like the Missionary but adjusted so not only can he bring you closer to a good orgasm, he gets to see each and every one of your expressions and be exposed to the pulse near your collar bones.
G - ‘Goofy’ (Serious or humorous?)
I know some might think he is all for serious lovemaking due to his stringent nature but I disagree. 
He and MC seem more in-tune with each other than the rest of the team, and he is more empathetic and considers her needs and likes, without basing it on societal values or whatever norms.
If there is a funny moment or this is part of cheering MC up, he is more than willing to pull out a joke. 
Sure, he might be dying from sheer mortification if you laugh too hard but your smile is enough for him to forget about it and laugh along and learn from it.
H- ‘Hair under THERE’ (Pubic Hair Treatment, does the carpet match the shades?)
He’s a clean-freak, he’s good with his hands, what do you mean he doesn’t manscape??? 
Pry this thought out of my cold, roaming hands. 
And yes, it’s the same shade, if not slightly lighter.
I- ‘Intimacy’ (How they are doing the moment, romantic aspects)
This one depends on several factors honestly. 
If he actually overcomes his fear of peering into people’s emotions, he might want to feel the warm embrace of your heart (with your consent, of course). 
He does get embarrassed and may cover up any cute gestures with abrasive words but nothing will stop him from letting you know how much he appreciates you... even if you may or may not need a Tsundere-translator in the midst of it all.
At least he nails the whole atmosphere, making it nice and soft just to be in each other’s embrace.
J- ‘Jack Off’ (Masturbation)
Before MC? Hell no. 
Dude only works himself up to a frenzy over dirty dishes and broken paintbrushes. 
Meeting MC? Starts aggressively chopping anything in sight and taking out his frustrations in the cooking.
He then realizes the ingredients are getting more pounding moments than he has and starts to relieve himself when he is absolutely sure no one is around to stumble into his room.
Poor boy doesn’t know where to start though and it is only when he imagines his hands being yours does he get anywhere.
K- ‘Kink’ (One or two of his kinks)
I think I have said this before but unwrapping you like a present is a gift in itself.
Ribbons, ribbons, oh so pretty...
Look me in the eye and tell me that tugging on his long, luscious locks doesn’t get him off.
Consent. No, but seriously, him being constantly reassured that you want this as much as he does just encourages him to explore more.
L- ‘Location’ (Favourite places to do the do)
On Oji’s bed so that the old man can’t sleep anymore on that mattress.
Ok, but really, he would love it in either of your bedrooms so that HE can take care of cleaning up the mess and no one else. 
Anywhere is fine, the wall, the bed, the floor. Just let him have access to some cleaning supplies.
M- Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Anything about you being happy. 
Heck, you could be smiling over some random 2D dude getting his route released in a few hours in some manga and he would be hiding a raging boner.
Did I mention ribbons? If not, then ribbons.
N- ‘No.’ (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Whatever it is, no foodplay. How dare you waste food made from ingredients Oji-san FINALLY remembered?!
No threesomes either because he is always worried you might get Kuya involved...
O- ‘Oral’ (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
He is a GREAT giver. 
Not only that, HE ACTUALLY KNOWS NOT TO JUST FLICK IT.
Ginnojo, does your bookshop have some hidden Sex Bible or something?
Firm, repetitive rolls before sucking on the engorged clit, all the while letting his one free hand grab onto some other erogenous zone of yours.
Initially, super reluctant to receive because “MC! It-it-it down there?!”
A bit self-conscious about the taste and if you can actually breathe. 
Until you start to let your tongue wander over the whole of his length.
Now, he likes to give and receive.
P- ‘Pace’ (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)
He’s going for a marathon session whenever possible. 
He loves lengthy lovemaking where all his senses are aroused. 
That means sexy music and lots of foreplay to get a stimulating hour (or two).
Q- ‘Quickie’ (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
He would LOVE it ONLY if you made a feisty quickie at work. 
Rip off his clothes, and go at it as soon as he walks through the door. 
That I-need-you-now approach boosts his confidence and his lust.
R- ‘Risk’ (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Honestly, only if you suggest it. 
And he has ensured that it will not jeopardize your safety. 
And that it is technically physically possible, he has all the equipment...
Essentially, as long as both of you are prepared, he is more than willing to.
S - ‘Stamina’ (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
The first few times is a soft ‘2’ because he doesn’t know his own reactions (yet). 
However, he quickly learns how to control yours and his release.
Suddenly, he wants to go at it like rabbits over long durations.
Seriously contemplates making a schedule.
T - ‘Toy’ (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
If you wanted to try one, he will... struggle to buy them. 
So he isn’t so keen on them.
Also because he prefers learning your body’s natural responses to his touches and not through some plastic equipment that is...
Wait, why is it rotating?
Is it another wand?
U - ‘Unfair’ (how much they like to tease)
In the initial stages? You are the Queen of teasing this poor fool.
But remember, he can get his revenge as a Seer. 
Basically, you are going to regret it MUCH, MUCH later.
... Provided he gets either drunk enough to say it or you two are like maybe, 1 month into the relationship.
V - ‘Volume’ (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He is more into heavy panting, and airy, hot breaths.
Because he wants to focus on your moans and is a bit self-conscious. 
But occasionally, rough grunts overlap with your sounds, especially the closer the two of you become.
W - ‘Wildcard’ (Random Headcanon)
You and his first time will make him extremely worried about hurting you, even if you aren’t a virgin.
Because one good/bad thing about his appearance is that sometimes girls randomly chat to ‘her’ about their lives… including very, very, very bad sex. 
Until you make him discover the joys of voyeur vision. 
Slowly undressing for him, and then starting to pleasure yourself. 
The sight had made him weak in the knees, and he had quickly joined in to learn the ropes.
Oh boy, he is a great student. :D
X - ‘X-ray’ (How is the package?)
Hidden in loose boxers (to hide any reaction to certain actions of yours)
I’m going to be honest, he is probably just average in terms of length. 
BUT GREAT GIRTH.
Even better that his glans is nearly the same size as his width. 
A bit curved towards the stomach, with some prominent veins.
Y - ‘Yearning’ (How high is his sex drive?’)
High. Super high.
This is going to be first and hopefully the only partner. 
He wants to ravish you at least 3 times a week.
A bit interesting it falls on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.
Z - ‘Zzzz…’ (How fast do they fall asleep?)
Initially, it takes him a good half-an-hour because he is so busy tending to you until you get him to relax with pillow talks.
Soon though, he likes to cuddle with you before hitting the hay.
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hydemeincradle · 5 years
Text
Never Speak of This - Oliver/Alice
Word Count: 1670
Notes:
You’re gonna have to look under the line cause it’s NSFW ;)
This is a co-written fic with one of my besties who goes by Nova Rochester. That’s why it’s in third haha, cause I’m too much of a first POV fan now.
The idea comes from the Oliver story where he stays up all night and falls asleep on Alice’s lap... and then of course my musing and craziness (along with my bestie’s) we come up with this.
Enjoy ;)
It was incredibly difficult trying to stay perfectly still, and Alice was losing the battle. Inside, her heart raced, thumped like crazy, but how could it not when she was in such a predicament. One small movement could wake him, however she couldn’t just stay like this. Before long Oliver would wake up and the cramp burning in her leg meant it would have to be soon. There had been a hope that she could stay like this until sunrise, until things would change again, but it burnt away the moment her leg started to protest.
Despite her best attempts, she couldn’t stop her eyes from scanning over the sleeping man sprawled across her and the sofa. Just a little while ago he had been a sweet –or rather sweet-ish– little boy. He’d fallen asleep with his head in her lap, and she’d opted to let him stay there a while to rest. She’d spent the time brushing the hair from his face wondering how such a ill-tempered person could look so sweet asleep.
And then it happened.
It had come as a bit of a shock; she hadn’t noticed the sun sinking behind the horizon or the softly fading light in the room until the lamps turned on. The ripping, however...
First came the confusion as Oliver shuddered, changing to horror as his body contorted, taking the shape of a grown man. She’d already known about the magic, about how he changed, how the boy became the man when the sun set. She did not know about the effect it would have on his clothing, about the way it would tear apart when it no longer fit his form. Nor the fact he could sleep through it.
Alice panicked, worrying that Oliver would be mad, that he'd yell or blame her for something; but soon enough her thoughts wandered, instead unable to stop admiring him. Her eyes roamed slowly across the smooth pale planes of his chest, down the lean muscles of his stomach, down further to his…
Alice bit her lip as her cheeks flushed. The green silk of his small suit was now little more than scraps of fabric, barely still holding onto his body. His state of undress left nothing to the imagination, especially as it would appear that he was having a very exciting dream. The only article of clothing left intact was his hat, which sat safely on the arm of the sofa next to her.
She fought hard to resist the urge to run her fingers through those luscious locks of brown hair once more. He was so beautiful in his sleep; the frown lines were gone, softening his usually grim expression. His lips were parted ever so slightly, releasing puffs of warm breath onto Alice’s fingers when she dared let them get close to his face. She so wanted to trace the curve of his jaw with her fingertips, to touch his nose, his eyelids, his lips. Oliver really was stunning.
It happened quite suddenly, the waking; a slight change in breathing and then wide stormy grey eyes looking up at her. He blinked a few times, seemingly struggling to figure out what they were seeing. It took a moment to register the change to nighttime before he hesitantly looked down. Oliver flailed trying his best to cover himself with the scraps of his once fitting shirt, only to lurch forward to grab his hat instead. In doing so, he started to slip, and reached out for Alice, pulling them both towards the edge of the sofa.  
The remainder of Oliver’s suit left him entirely as the last threads were torn on impact with the floor. He let out a string of curses, as he landed directly on his hat; which was thoroughly squished. Oliver rolled onto his back and rushed to cover any dignity he had left with the misshapen hat, only to have it brushed aside as Alice finally lost her balance and fell onto him.
Time stopped. "A-Alice?" Oliver gasped out.
Alice froze, surprise colouring her features. Her mind blank, she stared at Oliver, whose face was flushed and eyes wide. She couldn’t blame him really, not with where her hand ended up, accidental though it may have been. She should have just moved her hand away, but he was just so pretty like this. Not that she seemed to have control over her movements, anyway.
Oliver’s cock twitched in her hand, and his breathing shuddered; he averted his eyes, focusing on anything but her. After a seemingly long moment of Alice sat there holding him, he moved ever so slightly; rocking his hips forward. The friction of their skin set his face to a brighter shade of red, and a small moan fell from his lips. Alice felt her heart skip a beat as she listened, he was making such soft mewling sounds, tiny little moans and gasps as he gently thrust into her hand. She squeezed him ever so lightly, wanting to see how he’d react.
Oliver exhaled, his body quivering, his flush spreading. He draped one arm over his eyes, saying nothing. Alice took the chance to simply look at him a while, letting her eyes roam his body. His cock was warm and heavy in her hand, the skin as soft as velvet. She brushed her thumb across the tip, and was rewarded with a shiver and a hitch in his breath.
Her free hand dared to trace his hip bones with her fingertips, then wandered further up to caress his stomach. She continued up to his chest, lightly scratching his ribcage with her nails and earning another gasp. Flattening her palm over his heart, she felt it racing nearly as fast as her own.
It was when her trailing nails had made it back down to his thighs that he finally broke. She scratched lightly at the sensitive skin and he couldn’t help but squirm.
Finally, he removed his arm from his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows. The look in his eyes took Alice’s breath away, they were clouded over with desire and something else. His lower lip was caught between his teeth and he struggled to hold eye contact, his eyes occasionally flickered away from her face.
He’s nervous.
The thought hit her like a carriage at full speed. She couldn’t quite fathom the idea of Oliver being nervous, but here he was; flushed skin, dishevelled hair, it made him look all the more desperate and she couldn’t take her eyes away. He was trembling, his breathing uneven, and slowly he brought his hips forward. She watched him transfixed as the muscles in his abdomen twitched. Little moans of pleasure bubbled out of his throat as he rocked up again and again. Then, his eyes were on her. There was a question in the grey heat of his gaze.
Is this ok?
Alice’s cheeks betrayed her own feelings, though she never turned away from him. This whole situation had been an accident, but Alice certainly wasn’t complaining. And part of her liked this. Part of her wanted more.
Oliver sat up, reaching out to trace the outline of her jaw with a finger; the slight touch sent shivers down her spine. She watched as he leaned in close, his lips hovering so near to her own. One heartbeat, two. He didn’t move. Pulling back, Oliver pressed a quick kiss to the tip of Alice’s nose.
It was a simple gesture, but sweet nonetheless, and Alice watched as Oliver moved away once again, still unsure and nervous. The sweet flush across his face was starting to fade now, and Alice wasn’t sure what she should do next. So far she had barely moved, it had been Oliver bucking against her hand, but what if…
It only took a few movements of her own for that flush to appear once more, and Oliver licked his lips.
“Alice…”
She watched him carefully as he tried not to squeeze his eyes shut, loving that the smallest movements she made left him so vulnerable and at her mercy. Usually it was him to tease her, and yet now here he was, almost begging her with those grey eyes to keep going. And she obliged gladly, falling into a faster rhythm. Beneath her fingertips he’d grown so hard she wondered how much more he could take before—
Oliver reached out and grabbed hold of her cheek. The look in his eyes told her everything as he moaned out, giving over to a shuddering pleasure. In exhaustion, he leaned closer, resting his forehead against her shoulder, Alice couldn’t help but reach out with her free hand to caress his hair. Oliver’s breath was hot and heavy against her neck as he tried to speak, but she shook her head.
“You don’t need to say anything.”
Alice smiled and lightly rested her head against his. She wasn’t even sure what to say herself. One moment he had been asleep on her lap and now…
“I hope you are going to take responsibility for your actions,” Oliver managed to say, lifting his head to look at her. He pulled her against his chest, holding on like she would disappear at any moment. Alice ran her hand along his chest and he shuddered. “I really should change.”
Both caught up in the moment, neither had thought too much about them being in the front room. To change, Oliver would have to walk through the house to his room.
“Oh. Yes. But how are you—”
Clenching his jaw, Oliver grumbled, “never speak of this.”
Alice pursed her lips trying to hide the laugh that started to form; Oliver shakily climbed to his feet and grabbed his crushed hat, using it to keep as much dignity as he could, rushing out the door and to his room.
After he left, Alice buried her face into a pillow, letting her laughter free, thankful that the hat had been big enough, at least.
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dolphinitley · 5 years
Text
Arthur x Female Reader smut
Title: Just for You and Me
Summary: Arthur and the reader share a hotel bed, and their true feelings.
Word count: 2,476
“I’m so sick of every one sayin’ that I’m a ‘good man’.” Arthur walks into camp and sits down next to you at the table. You were playing dominoes with yourself.
“What a terrible problem, Mr. Morgan.”
“I’m serious, Y/N.”
You give him a more caring look and wait for him to continue.
“I’m just helping good folks out sometimes and they act like I’m the only person who’s ever been good to ‘em.”
“Maybe you are.”
“They say the worlds gettin’ more civilized but that’s not what I’m seein’ out here.”
“Why can’t you accept their compliments?”
After a few moments Arthur finally replies sadly, “Because it ain’t true.”
You look in his eyes sympathetically.
He continues, “You know this Y/N. You’ve known me since we were kids. I beat people. I kill people. For what?”
Your eyes move quickly to Dutch and then back to Arthur, waiting for him to give his admission.
“For Dutch. Psh. I don’t know. I don’t know if I wanna live like this no more,” he says in a hushed tone.
You place your hand on his forearm and lightly rub your thumb over his skin. You recently got some information from Trelawny about a possible score in a town far from camp, and you needed a gun to back you up. You decided now to ask Arthur.
“What if I said there was a job far away, just for you and me? We could get outta here for a while. Think about things.”
Usually Arthur would be asking a lot of questions but this time he didn’t. “When do we leave?” was all he said.
“We can leave in the mornin’.”
You couldn’t help but grin. You and Arthur had been lifelong friends, but recently you developed romantic feelings toward him. You had a feeling he felt the same, but didn’t want to ruin anything. There wasn’t exactly time to act on romance right now anyway. In any case, you were excited to get out of camp and spend some quality time with Arthur.
That evening Arthur lay on his cot, now thinking about the logistics of the job. He heard you telling a story to Jack by the fire, and looked up.
“...and the dragon guarded the castle so fiercely that nobody dared try to enter for many years...”
Arthur saw Jack watching you with childlike wonder. Medieval tales were Jack’s favorite.
Your eyes looked around absentmindedly until they stopped at Arthur, and you smiled when you saw he’d been watching and listening. He smiled back sheepishly and laid his head back down. He thought about how beautiful you’d grown up to be, and how you’d been his rock throughout the years. Since Blackwater his feelings for you grew into something he was scared of. Something he tried to ignore.
“Just a normal job,” he thought to himself.
Finding himself unable to sleep, he opened his journal and began to sketch you and Jack by the fire. He decided it was something he wanted to remember.
You woke up soon after dawn to ready the horses. You had a long journey ahead of you. Arthur informed Dutch that the pair of you were heading out to look into a Trelawny lead and he bid you both goodbye. The ride took all day and it was nearly evening when you finally came upon the town’s hotel. You asked the clerk for two rooms, but it being so last minute, there was only one available.
“That’s fine,” you replied and bit your lip.
You looked to Arthur and he got the money to pay the bill, as well as money for two baths.
“I’ll meet you in the room,” he said.
He seemed to have a lot on his mind, but you assumed it was about the recent rabbit hole of doubt his mind was going down. After your bath you were in the room pressing a towel to your wet hair. There was a knock on the door and you assumed it was Arthur, but got up just to make sure. You cracked the door and saw that it was him.
“Are ya decent?”
“Yes, Arthur, I am,” you laughed.
You let him inside and could smell the soap from his bath as he walked past you. Arthur saw there was only one bed and began to untie his bed roll when you said, “You’re not sleepin’ on the floor are ya?”
“Ahh,” Arthur didn’t know what to say.
You rolled your eyes. “Just sleep up here. It’s a big bed. I promise it’s okay Arthur.”
“Alright then,” he said and slowly got himself situated to go to bed.
As he lifted the covers and got in bed next to you, you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach, and a tingling that made you blush. After Arthur turned out his lamp, you turned out yours and hugged the comforter. After such a long day of travel and such a warm hotel room, you fell asleep in no time. A few hours later you awoke, shivering as the fire in the fireplace had fallen to embers. You got up to stoke the fire and add wood. You noticed that Arthur’s breathing was no longer steady, indicating that he was awake. You looked to him and smiled sheepishly as you walked back to bed, still shivering.
“Are you cold?” he asked with concern.
You nodded and he opened his arms to you. Sometime between when you first fell asleep and when you woke up, Arthur must have gotten hot while the fire was still going because his shirt was now off. He was on the side of the bed closer to the fire. You looked at his strong muscular chest dusted with hair. You so desperately wanted to run your fingers all over him, but figured this invitation was for staying warm only. As Arthur tried to warm you up, both of your breaths were becoming shallower. You couldn’t take it anymore. You could practically hear how hard he was thinking.
“Arthur?”
“Yes Y/N?”
“What’re you thinking about? Right this second specifically?”
You looked up at him intensely. He stared at you for a few moments and then nodded. You laid your head back against his chest. His eyes wandered over your sweater covered shoulders and soft breasts resting against his bare ribs. He tried to focus on anything else.
“You know,” he began, “about tomorrow’s job and about how tough things are for Dutch and Hosea now a days.”
You gave a disappointed sigh but were mad at yourself for doing so. Why were thinking about your desire for your best friend instead of listening to his troubles? His invitation to hold you along with his shirt off had you wondering if he too wanted something more, but you made yourself focus on being supportive.
“Go on,” you said.
“And...I...was thinking about you.”
You froze.
“About me?”
“Mhm.”
“Well...what about me?”
“Just uh...um...”
Why was he so speechless in this moment? You lifted yourself up a bit to look at him. To your surprise his lips were slightly parted and he was looking at you with desperation.
“What is it Arthur?”
He gave no answer but raised his hand to your cheek and then lightly down the back of your neck. Your breath hitched and your lips parted as well. He seemed to regain a bit of composure, and found his words.
“I was thinkin’ on how lucky we are to finally be alone like this. And I was thinkin’ how goddamn right it feels to have you sleepin’ here right by my side.”
You beamed at him and nodded.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
You melted at the combination of his low gruff voice and how gentlemanly he was.
“Finally,” you said.
You saw the humor in his eyes before he leaned in and kissed you softly. Arthur’s plump and soft lips met yours deliberately but gently, and took their time. You both inhaled with surprise at the intense emotion just this kiss caused between you. Kiss after kiss, you became more comfortable being this intimate and your bodies gradually intertwined. After a few minutes you were lost in the overwhelming ocean that was Arthur’s adoration of you. His big roaming hands accidentally pushed your sleep shirt up away from your hips and he froze. He pulled away from your lips and exhaled, you both thinking about the contact of his rough hands on the soft skin of your waist. His thumb was only making small circles against your skin. You took his wrist and moved it higher up your body, dangerously close to your breast.
“I like you touching me,” you assured him.
“Alright then,” Arthur replied and continued to roam your skin and kiss your lips.
He worked his fingertips up and down your spine, causing you to arch your chest against his chest, and you wrapped one of your legs over his hip. He continued to run his fingertips over your back until his thumb began brushing the side of your breast. Every stroke he got closer your nipple until you pulled away and breathlessly said, “Touch my breasts.”
In no time Arthur moved his hand to fully caress each of your breasts. It was blissful to have this man touching you like this. Arthur shivered at your hands feeling his body from his neck to his collarbones to his waistband. You barely slipped your hand under his waistband and he moaned into your mouth and pushed his hips against your hand slightly.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” you asked him.
“Yes, honey, please.”
You continued to move your hand under his pants and wrapped your fingers gingerly around his cock. Your light touch teased him and had him exhaling loudly. You slightly tightened your grip and began to pump him slowly. After a couple of minutes he took your arm and gently guided it away from him. The look in his eyes now was even more desperate than before.
“I need to worship you,” Arthur said as he placed wet kisses on your neck. This got you even more excited and you asked him to undress you, which he did gladly. With every button of yours he undid, he licked and kissed the skin that was revealed. He moaned with pleasure at being so damn close to you and you wanting him that damn close to you. His mouth moved to the inside of your open thighs. You were slightly squirming. Arthur was on his elbows between your legs. He moved one hand from your knee up to your lower belly, then to your mound.
“Is it alright if I touch you here sweetheart?” he asked with concern.
“Yes, Arthur, please touch me there.”
You were ready for him to dive in but he was so painstakingly slow, licking and kissing everywhere but the wetness of your cunt. His fingers finally moved up and down your folds and you moaned and reached for the headboard for something to grab onto. Arthur was pleased with himself but wanted you to more plainly state your desire, so he needed to tease you more. He’d move his wet fingers slowly up and down to just over your entrance, but never going fully inside. He’d press a bit harder each time so that only his finger tip felt the hot wetness inside of you. You were frustratedly squirming with pleasure. Arthur pressed your thighs open more and began kissing you body more desperately but still had not touched your clit with his tongue. He blew hot breaths on you. Finally his flat tongue touched your folds ever so slightly, then pulled away.
“Please Arthur!” you bursted out.
“Please, what, honey?” he replied smugly.
“Please eat my pussy.”
He groaned at your words.
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he said.
Then he began. He was devouring you as if you were his last meal on earth. He inserted one finger into your desperate cunt and slowly moved it in and out of you. A few minutes later you fell off the cliff of your incredible orgasm, only to be taken surprise by a consecutive orgasm due to Arthur’s continuous ministrations. Your moans melted him and were music to his ears. When you came down, your limbs still felt numb. You felt so light and at ease. All tension was gone. Arthur kissed his way back up your body and to your lips. You pushed Arthur to lay on his back with his arms lying causally by his head in surrender to you.
“You are a bad man Arthur Morgan,” you said as you lowered your body closer to his.
He laughed and began moving his hands over your hips which were straddled across his. You kissed his lips and the passion and intensity seemed to keep growing between you.
“Put on a show for me honey.”
“I’m nervous. I’ve never done that.”
“You got this girl.”
You leaned back and positioned yourself over his long hard cock. You were so wet and tight and you took him in slowly. Finally your hips were skin to skin and he was completed sheathed inside of you. All the while he gave the sexiest groans of pleasure and phrases of praise to you. His fingers gripped you hard. You ran your hands all over him and then over yourself as you began to move. With him inside of you, you felt so full and proud. He changed positions so that he was on top of you, moving slowly in and out of you and kissing everywhere he could reach. He’d whisper in your ear, “You feel like a dream,” and lick you. “I want this forever,” he’d say while looking in your eyes and fucking you at the same time. He was attentive to your every noise and reaction and adjusted his movements to maximize your pleasure. It became so overwhelming that tears fell down your temples as your back arched up into him and your mouth lay open with pleasure and moans. Your desperate praises and saying his name pushed him closer to orgasm. You asked him to come on you and ran your hands over your body. Soon after, he did come on your belly, growling and moaning into your neck. Once you were both cleaned up, you laid again in his arms. “We shoulda been doin that a long while ago,” said Arthur with a laugh. More seriously and softly, in your ear he said, “I love you.”
You’d said it more platonically before, but this time was very different. You turned your head to him and responded, “I love you, too.”
Arthur smiled and kissed you once more before settling in to a contented sleep.
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A Causa Di Vi
  (by: awesome-akako)    
“You’re evil.” She said while staring at me. “It’s hot.” She added.  
I sighed heavily, as if annoyed. I’m not in the mood to talk with her. She always had the guts to follow wherever I was. I didn’t reply and just walked away, left her behind. I continued walking near the sea, enjoying the sea breeze, enjoying the beautiful environment. I always love this kind of place, makes my whole system calm.
I don’t want someone to bish my mood, so I decided to go here and spent my time watching the waves of the sea.  
“I’ve been watching you from there,” She pointed to the hut not too far from my seat.   “Since you came.”  
I turned my back when someone spoke. An unfamiliar woman was behind me. I remained silent, still staring at her. I returned my gaze to the sea after staring at her face for more than five seconds.  
“Can I sit beside you?” She asked. I nodded.  
None of us dared to speak. I don’t know if she’s just shy to speak or she just really doesn’t want to speak. I just let the silence happen between the two of us. It always came up on my mind that waves are whiffsy, never ending, similar to clouds.
“Looks like I’m the only one who can see you.” She said.
“They can see me of course. They just don’t appreciate my existence so they act like they cannot see me when in fact they really can.” I answered briefly. I can feel that she’s looking at me.  
“Do you feel scrotty?”
“I feel nothing.” I sigh.  
“Is it possible to feel nothing? I'm biffsquiggled about that.” She took a stone and threw it into the sea. She did that for nine times. On the tenth time she held a stone to be thrown into the sea, she looked at me.  
“Want to try?” I nodded. She gave me stones. I stood beside her, facing the sea. I looked at the stone in my palm, I stared at it for a second. I let out a deep sigh before I threw the stone into the sea. I put all my energy into throwing that stone.  
On the first throw, I felt satisfied. By just throwing that one stone, it feels like I decreased some of my negative thoughts. I repeated it for more than ten times and I must say it feels better.  
“You are running out of stones. Do you want me to get stones for you?” I looked at her. We stared at each other. Her eyes were like the ocean, drowning me. I can’t help but to stare at it. Her blue eyes make me feel like she knows everything about me, even my deepest secrets, as if she were reading my soul. I cough softly before I turned my gaze away from her.  
She nodded slowly before walking away to get the stones. I sit on the sand again. Knees raised and the chin rests on the knee. I looked up at the sky. I was softly touched by the sunlight that hit my eyes.  
“I put the stones in it.” She pointed to the plastic bag she was holding. “Here, take it.” She handed me the plastic bag. I didn't even notice that she was coming back. She suddenly came back out of nowhere, like a mushroom.
I stood up and started throwing stones into the sea again. As it lasts, my arms get heavier until I could feel no more. I was about to throw when she held my arm.  
“What?” I asked, the forehead is wrinkled.  
“Enough. You're wasting your energy.” She said, still holding my arm.  
“I’m enjoying it.” I said without giving an emotion.
We both sighed. Slowly, I laid the rock in the sand. She slowly lowered my arm. She tapped my shoulder three times. She hugged me and I felt shiver down to my spine. I didn’t move right away.
“Why are you hugging me?” I asked.  
“Just wondering what’s your smell.” Then she stopped from hugging me. “Calvin Klein’s perfume? Nice choice.” She smiled.  
I looked at the watch I was wearing. It’s already four o’clock in the afternoon and the sun has set.  
As the sun goes down, the color of the cloud changes. From the blue sky it became a pale tint of orange until the sky finally darkened. The breeze was cold and the waves were strong. I hugged myself in the middle of meditation. The unfamiliar woman sitting next to me, cleared her throat.  
“You might have plans to go home tonight because it's late. It's already seven o’clock in the evening.” She said while looking at me.  
“This is my home.” I say and release a strained smile. I saw panic in her eyes. As if saying she couldn't believe it.  
“You’re a fisher?” I shook my head. “What are you, then?”
“The heir to this resort.”  
Her eyes widened after hearing those words coming from me.  
“Really?” She asked with a surprised look. I nodded. “Wow. No offense but you don’t seem to be an heir. I mean, you look like you own a business or company.”
“You mean, a CEO?” She nodded. “I think we should go back.” I said.  
I stood up, removing sand from clothing. I offered her my hand to help her stand. She took my hand and stood up straight away.  
We take different paths. I got home at about ten o'clock at night. Cold air met me when I opened the door. Darkness envelops the house. I stepped in and pressed the light switch on the wall. The glare of light shone in my eyes. As I walk up the stairs, Sadie showed up, wearing a lingerie dress.  
“You’re evil and it’s hot.” She said again for the second time and she started walking towards me. Our gaze was not broken until she gets closer to me. Using her index finger, she rubbed my cheek.  
“Poor.” She said.  
“Stop following me, Sadie.”  
“I’m not following you. You are following me.” She answered.  
“This is my house.” I said.  
“Nah-uh. This house is mine.”  
“Are you mocking me?”
“No.” She said with her artistic voice. I was irritated. I just went up to my bedroom so I wouldn't hurt her.  
I dropped my body down on the bed, facing the ceiling. I dispunge this kind of feeling. I dispunge Sadie.  
I didn't realize I was asleep. I just woke up when I could feel the warmth of the sunlight hitting my face. The window curtain is open, allowing light to enter the room.  
“Goodmorning you little dimwit.” I look at my side. I saw Sadie standing near the door while holding a breakfast table. She approached me. She laid the breakfast table on the bed and sat down on the edge of the bed.
 “Eat.”  
I did not speak and ate only the breakfast she had prepared. The bacon, egg and cheese sandwich she prepared is scrumptious-galumptious, so flavory-savory that it makes me all just think about it.  
Sadie’s just watching me to eat the foods she prepared for me. I was uncomfortable. After I ate, I got up and went to the bathroom. I fixed myself for more than one hour. I left the room and went down to go to the kitchen. I saw Sadie holding a bread knife, slicing the bread. Slow and careful.  
“Are you leaving?” She asked. She put the knife next to her and she looked at me. I nodded. “Where are you going?” She continued.  
“Near the sea.” I answered. She just nodded and continued to cut the bread again.  
When I came near the sea, I met the woman with me again yesterday. She was just sitting on the sand with her cross legs.  
“Hi.” I greeted her. She was shocked to see me.  
“Hello, Good morning!” She greeted back. Her smile is as beautiful as the flowers in a garden. Her smile seemed to light up in a dark environment. “Is it okay for you to join me for a swim? Just for a mintic.”
I said yes to her. I watched her undress. She’s wearing a bikini that suits for her body. I just removed the shirt I was wearing instead of the shorts.  
“You won’t strip your shorts?” I shook my head. “I see. Anyway, you have a nice body. I love it.” She winked at me.  
We started to swim in the relatively deep part of the sea. I'm just following her. In the middle of the swim, I was stopped. A turtle caught my attention. I watched it how to swim. It’s cute.  
I went up and returned to the cliff. The unfamiliar girl gave me a towel.  
“Thank you.” I said. She just smiled at me.  
I sat down on a big rock near the sea shore while washing my wet hair with a towel. My eyes widened as I felt something hit my head. I gradually felt my body fall into the sand. I could not move nor could I speak. I feel like my whole body is numb.  
As I lay in the sand, I saw two pairs of feet approaching me. I can't see the face because I'm just looking at the feet, I can't move my body. I'm having a hard time to breath. My eyes gradually darkened. I wanted to seek and shout for help but my body can’t.  
I feel like I'm paralyzed.
I felt like someone was combing my hair. I felt pain as someone pulled it up. I was in pain. I slowly opened my eyes. She was smiling from ear to ear. She rubbed my cheek by using her index finger.  
“How does it feel? Hmm?” The unfamiliar woman asked me.  
I could not speak. I tried to move but my body really can’t.  
I felt the pain again when she hit me. My eyes gradually darkened. I hear a shout but I can't hear what they are shouting.  
I felt something cold touch my skin. It's a knife. When I grabbed it, I held it tight, I forced myself to stand even when I was dizzy. I felt like walking into two women lying on the sand and bloody both. I couldn't see the faces of them both.  
I stabbed the woman to my left first and then to my right. I could feel my body fall slowly beside them.  
“She’s awake! She’s awake!”  
“Call the doctors!”  
I growled softly. I first saw the light when I looked up. My vision gradually adjusted until it returned to normal. I felt a flashlight focus on my eyes.  
“Check her vitals.”
“Normal.”  
I can see how many people are around me. Doctors and nurses are checking on me. They keep on asking me how I feel.  
I roamed my eyes in the room. Obviously, I’m in the hospital. I saw my parents, my relatives are looking at me worriedly.  
“How do you feel now, Fauna?” The doctor asked me.  
“I’m good.” I answered.  
“Don't you wonder why you were here and what happened to you?”  
“No. I’m aware of what happened to me.” I said. “I was about to die and died last night by an unknown woman. Fortunately, Sadie saved me. Where is she by the way?” I heard them breathe. They avoid looking at me.  
“That incident happened 5 years ago. You were comatose for 5 years, Fauna.”  
I couldn't believe what he said. I looked at them one by one and almost all of them avoided looking except for the doctor who told me.  
“H-how about Sadie..?” I hesitate to ask.  
“She had been dead for five years.”  
“H-huh? H-how..?”
“You killed her.”  
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