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daenysthedreamersblog · 4 months

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STRANGERS II - HIS DARLING BLUEBELL

I tried to be good. Am I no good? Am I no good? Am I no good?

If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick

part one here

summary: your victory tour has ended, and snow throws a party for you to let the bidding war over you begin. but as the time for the final deal draws closer, can president snow truly part with his favorite little victor?

pairings: president!snow x district6! reader

warnings: MDNI! swearing, heavy drinking, non/dub-con touching / kissing, choking, dub-con, fingering, oral sex, power imbalance, slapping, spitting, me trying to describe hair styles, let me know if i forgot anything!

notes: hope you enjoy part two! tysm for reading 🤍

You couldn't sleep without two bottles of wine at least while also baring the train car door with a chair to keep him out. He never came or else you would have heard the banging. He would have tried and most likely succeeded breaking down the door and once again violating your space. You knew it would only enrage him more, locking him out, but it gave you some sense of peace. Allowed you to find sleep underneath piles of blankets surrounded by empty cups.

You also knew if he asked you nicely you would open the door in an instant, and you hated that part of yourself the most.

The train had stopped a long while ago and you waited for someone to retrieve you. You had removed the chair and sat there peacefully until the Avox came within the room beckoning to follow. You did, you followed them off the train and onto the concrete platform. Taking a deep breath, the smoke from the train blowing off into the winds; you found strength in the scent, found yourself wishing that puff of smoke was blowing you away with it.

President Snow was gone leaving you in worried silence wondering what corner he would be lurking around.

The tribute center hadn't changed in the months you had been gone and the ride up the elevator was actually nostalgic. How different life had been back then, how afraid you were for different things. It dinged on the sixth floor allowing you off and your feet gravitated to your old room. You peered to the right, to the door that would never open again revealing the freckle faced boy you had come here with. He had died in the first five minutes of the games and you never knew his name too caught up in your own woes about dying.

"Good afternoon miss." A bright smile greeted you. "President Snow sent me." She was flanked by two others opening kits of instruments and fabric and colored makeup. She had her hand around your back ushering you to the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up for him hmm?”

The chill went through you; for him. It might be a figure of speech since he was the President and everything was always inherently his. You lived in his districts, you won his games, you would always be his property, and maybe that’s why he felt a right to your body too. You let them strip you, let them wax and pluck and shave down every part of you until your skin was raw.

They sat you down and styled your hair into elegant waves down your back slicking your bangs against your head and behind your ears to let your hair hang permanently over your shoulders and down your back. They airbrushed makeup onto your face covering your lids in gentle colors, putting a soft pink gloss on your lips. And finally when that was done, when they had rubbed your body down with sweet smelling lotions and perfumes, did they slip on the dress.

It was white, a slight sparkle to it when the light hit it, off the shoulder sleeves hanging against your biceps a slight cowl neckline and bodice that hugged your waist, cinching it in tight. The skirt stopped at your feet the two stylist sliding you into white heels.

"You look absolutely ethereal." The stylist mused running fingers along your hair to get it perfect, smoothing down any stray pieces. "An image of innocence." Your eyes flashed to her, pride gleaming in her face, but the others. They seemed sad, almost ashamed as they turned away from you. "Final touches." She slipped the red rose corsage along your wrist the disgusting smell wafting up to your face. "Perfect. Now wait here until he comes to fetch you."

They left like they came, quickly and without many words leaving you in a heart drumming silence. The room felt like it was caving in and suddenly your breaths were hard to find as panic choked you, the bodice of the dress squeezing your lungs. You spun, gripping the back of the chair to walk, soon grappling for the armchair wanting to rip this dress off so you could breath. You forced an exhale out wrapping your arms around the back trying to rip it off. You couldn't do this, couldn't go out there and let him sell you, let him sell your body. You could hear your heart beat throbbing in your throat as you stumbled over to the small cart holding liquor white knuckles holding onto it to stay standing. You snatched the cap off, throwing it across the room and chugged the burning white liquid down until your insides felt on fire, until most of it was gone.

You threw it at the window, watching it shatter to pieces, but the window never broke trapping you in with light reflected shards of glass. You grabbed a bottle of wine off the cart, fell to the floor with a sob, dizzy and heavy with grief. Maybe you deserved all of this after everything, after killing that boy, after surviving, after some elder family member had rebelled. You ripped the top off the wine and drank deep wallowing in self-pity until your doom came for you.

The door open and closed without protest, no chair would keep him out anyways. You listened to the short clips of his shoes as he came around and stood behind you like a shadow, like a guardian angel. He tsked, squatting down, turning your face towards him. He looked immaculate in a white suit, a single red rose pinned to his chest; a perfect opposite to your ensemble.

A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared up at him with scared eyes, "Please." You whimpered. “Don’t make me go out there.”

He raised his eyebrow, an amused look on his face, "Oh my darling bluebell." His hold on your face tightened as he yanked you forward forcing you to throw your hands out to brace the floor, "My good little bluebell." His eyes flickered around your face, a cold rage settling in and then his hand was around your neck stealing the breath out of you. You gaped at him, mouth opening and closing trying to force the words out, trying to claw up his arm to pull him off, but he only yanked you closer, bodies flush as your vision split and blurred. "As it is given...it can be taken away." He hissed pressing a bruising kiss to your lips, his hand loosing, the gasp opening up your mouth for him to slip inside.

His tongue was dominating, shoving down your throat as he attempted to devour you whole. It was a mesh of teeth and tongue; his kiss starving, hungry, like the Capitol never gave him enough food and he was planning to eat you. Fingers were digging in, carving out a place for him to control, breath by breath he took out of your chest until finally he pulled back, a string of spit trailing between the two of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him why he was doing all of this, but the words failed as your wide eyes flickered around his face.

He stood up and went to the door leaving you waiting in a pile of tears and broken glass. He opened the door, "Call Tigris." He instructed to someone outside of the door. Then it closed again, and he took a deep breath, your eyes flashed up to him as he readjusted his pants, the hard bulge in them prominent. He clicked his tongue hands resting on his hips as he stared at the ground, and then down at you still shaking on the floor.

Then he threw off his suit jacket. "Fuck it."

He came striding forward once more with purpose, lust blowing his pupils wide. "No!" You cried out falling back on your butt, crawling backwards until your leg snagged on the dress and you went tumbling to the ground. You rolled trying to scramble to your feet, but his hand had wrapped around your calf where the old scar still sometimes hurt. You clawed and kicked at him, "Please!" The sob broke out, feeling him pushing the pretty white dress up, the unbuckling sound ringing in your ears too loudly. "I've been good! I've been so good." You shook your head as he pinned your legs down with his hips. "Please Mr. President sir," Tears rolls down your cheeks. "Haven't I been good? Your good girl, please don't do this." You tried to fake tenderness by running your fingers down his arm, but nothing stopped him. It all fell on deaf ears as his hands found the hem of your underwear and he began to pull down. You thrashed more, cried and clawed at him, but he seemed content to ravage you.

"Coriolanus." A woman's voice shot through the room and he stilled atop of you hands slowly leaving from under the dress.

He sighed, his forehead pressing into yours as if it had been such a ruined intimate moment. He began to climb off, straightening himself up again. "Tigris." He said smoothing down his hair. "Get her cleaned up I'll be back in a half-hour."

You laid there in silence listening to him leave, listening to the door close with his exit the sound throbbing in your head. She finally came around staring at you disheveled on the floor. "Come on." She grabbed your hand helping you up, and back into the chair in front of the vanity. It wasn't horrible considering all that had happened. Your lipstick was smudged with small marks of mascara tracks down your face, which she solved in a matter of minutes. Your hair had only needed a quick brush and more spray to fix. Then you were perfect again; like he had never touched you. The feeling remained; his hungry lips on yours, his devouring hands. Your lip began to wobble as water welled, "Don't cry." You blinked up at her, "Please." She whipped out a handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of your eye to prevent the liquid from spilling over. "Are you alright?"

You only stared at her with furrowed brows at the dumbest question she could have asked. You pushed her away gathering shaking breaths as you turned from her.

"He..." She sighed still looking at you. "He is...he just..." You glared at her over your shoulder and she dropped her voice, "I'm sorry he is doing this you."

"If you were sorry," You seethed letting your anger show. It was rare. "You wouldn't fix me up so he can sell me like a prized mare!"

Tigris frowned truly saddened by the words taking a step back like you had slapped her. "I'm sorry." She said again grabbing her things and beginning to retreat. "I'm sorry." She went to the door opening it, "Coriolanus." She said staring up at him. "Can I speak w-!"

"Go." He gritted out as she stumbled out of the door and into the hall. He slammed the door behind her. He stared at the closed door for a second, took a deep breath, then turned to take you in once again, "Perfection." He smiled as you slowly turned to fully look at him. He came forward and your foot slid back, "Oh my little bluebell." He mused continually moving for you. "I didn't mean to mess up your makeup." He took your hands in his not really offering anymore of an explanation. "Can you forgive me?" He kissed your knuckles staring at you expectingly from under his lashes.

What were you to say to the president of Panem? No?

"I forgive you, Mr. President, sir."

He beamed, hands coming around your face, "That's my good girl." His thumb caressed your cheek, "Now give me a kiss." You sucked in a breath and let him guide you to his mouth pressing your lips to his own. He hummed gently against you, tongue sweeping along your bottom lip, but he pulled back your gloss shining on his plush mouth. "Don't want to make us late." He pushed stray pieces of hair off your neck and tucked your arm in his elbow to lead you out of the room. "I have a few people I want you to meet..." He kept talking but you drowned him out as he walked you down the hallway his grip borderline painful.

He ushered you out into the hall with ohs-awes echoing around everyone straining to get a look at the Capitol's pet until the next games rolled around. Snow was speaking motioning to you and once everyone had toasted to him, the Capitol, the games did he begin to pull you around the room; a pretty accessory on his arm.

"Isn't she lovely." He said introducing you to a herd of men staring greedily. You stared ahead, far away as you heard him whisper about you, something about being well behaved, a few chuckles followed and pocket books opened, "Come," He opened his arm wide for you to walk forward. "Introduce yourself."

Your name sounded foreign, like it didn’t belong to you anymore as you shook their hands. "Nice to meet you sir," With each pleasantry and curtsy. It went around and around until you felt dizzy with each turn you made to meet someone new, someone who wanted to buy a body because 23 others had died. For some reason it made you curl against your fearsome President more as if he would stop these vultures from descending upon you; how ironic. You tugged on his hand to make him look. How dark his blue eyes seemed to get seeing you clinging to him like a savior.

"What is it?" He dropped his voice his hand patting yours.

You gazed up with pleading eyes, "I need a drink."

"Yes, of course." He leaned lower stroking your chin, "Not too much remember?" You nodded as he straightened up and smiled.

"Will you excuse me gentlemen?" You peered at the circle of buyers.

One had his arm wrapped around your bicep and your eyes flared up as he yanked you, "I can walk you over there."

No, no, no. You wildly searched for Snow behind his tall frame, and didn't have to look for long as a hand appeared on the man's chest, "Get your hands off her before I have them removed from your body." His voice was low. The man scoffed. This is what they were there for; me, and their president was stopping their grubby, money stained hands. Snow stepped closer, "Did I not make myself clear."

The hand fell off you and you rubbed the redness, "You promised that we-!"

"I didn't promise anything." Snow stood tall staring down his nose at the man. "Especially not to you." He waved a hand and you heard peacekeepers moving in, his eyes met yours, "Go."

"Mr. President, sir." You hid the shake in your voice as you slipped away hearing the whispers of praise about the view walking away was giving them. You didn't look back as you charged to the refreshments table grabbing the expecting flute from the servant's hand. You chugged it swiftly before anyone could notice and then forced them to refill. This time you drank it slower, body still lagging from the liquor you had drowned in earlier. If you kept in a constant daze everything felt a little more distant, like your drunk mind had made it up, fabricated the story.

"He sure does seem to like playing with you." Your head snapped to the young woman, the victor from District 4. "Mags," She smiled. She slid up besides you, nursing her own flute of champagne, "It gets easier."

"When?"

She chuckled, "When they get bored, when other victors emerge. You got bad luck, you're the first female victor since my games." Which was four games ago, "They're salivating simply to smell you." She took a sip from her flute, "You should have never told him you were a virgin."

Your eyes were wild. "H-How?" Don't stutter darling, your mother's voice, It isn't proper.

"You think he wouldn't 'leak' that to the posse he sells us all to?" Mags shook her head, "It's made mutts of them all."

"It was an accident." You took a shaky breath remembering that day on the train. "I thought something was going to happen and I wanted him to st-!"

Her hand grabbed your arm, "He's touching you?" Her grip grew firm, "Isn't he?"

You drained the flute to avoid her seeing your horridly confused face, "Did he not..."

"No, never." Her face held genuine concern. "Some minor comments, but no he never. Didn't parade me around on his arm, didn't coordinate outfits," Mags scoffed, "He made me wear this ugly teal thing as homage to my district." You couldn't speak, couldn't seem to settle yourself. "Maybe because of the whole new victory tour he felt he could get away with more. He does like his power-trips, and you're such a obedient little thing. His cock probably is straining in his pants just looking at you all pouty." You set the flute down holding your hand to your head to stop the thoughts from pouring out, dizzy with her words. They felt so brutal like the blows were hitting you in the heart. "Oh dear. I'm sorry I really never know when to shut-up." She turned you to face her, "It's alright. Here." She grabbed a fresh flute of champagne and forced it into your hands, "The first time is the hardest, after that it gets easier and once they get bored it will stop. You need to be strong okay?" Her hands ran down the skin of your arms as if trying to warm your soul. "It will be over soon. I'm here. I understand, all the victors do."

You drained your flute like it was the air you needed. "Why is he doing this to me?"

Mags only frowned sadly, "I don't know. I used to hear stories about him, before he was President. Rumors says during the 10th Hunger Games he was a mentor, but theres no proof, everything got wiped. Afterwards, he got shipped to District 12 for some rules he broke during school. When he came back he was different; he came back that man." Your eyes landed on him across the room, and he was watching you over the rim of his glass. "Something changed in him out there, and ever since he's been working his way to the top, keeping the Games, making them more brutal and publicized each year."

"What do I do?" You pleaded with her.

She tried to smile taking your hand, but it never reached her eyes, "Be careful. He's dangerous, and let's just say, I'm surprised anyone is going to bid for you seeing the way he keeps you so close." She had this look indicating she wasn't sure what was worse; the leeching men or Snow's protection. It wasn't sound advice, but you tucked it close because what else were you supposed to do; burn the Capitol down.

No one person couldn't do that.

You glanced back at him, anger laced in his stare as men talked at him.

You knew which was worse.

It was midnight by the time you stumbled into your room kicking your shoes off towards the far end of the wall and grabbing the brown liquor you had left from earlier. Your stomach garbled with hunger, but you just tossed the glass decanter cap away hearing it shatter behind you and pushed the bathroom door open. You turned the faucet on setting the glass container down to attempt to undo the bodice of the dress. You got half way down before you gave up unable to reach, too tired, too drunk, too ogled at to care. You climbed into the tub, decanter in hand, the water soaking into the fabric weighing you down as you slid into it. How pathetic. How was this the epitome of desire, a drunken, wet, sad little girl.

Maybe that was how they liked them.

You turned the water off with your foot as it sat just under your chin, wet hair floating around you. You took another long drink eyes heavy, brain swirling with everything Mags had told you tonight. You couldn't make sense of it all, not now, a part of you didn’t ever want to figure it out, it was simply too much to dissect and what good would it do. He was still going to sell you off to whoever he wanted until your name was a joke they spoke over whiskey.

Ugly red rose petals floated around you from the ruined corsage around your wrist. Your ears were underwater, the idea of drowning yourself more appealing the more sleep pulled you under. The water dulled the sound of the bathroom door closing, but there he was staring down at you in the bath. He was dressed down, his suit jacket gone, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, his perfect hair slightly curled in some parts. He almost looked normal, handsome even if you allowed yourself to admire it. You picked your head up as he knelt beside the tub, "You could have called for help to take the dress off."

"I was impatient." You took a swig from the bottle a glare in your eyes.

"I can tell." He chuckled, his fingers dancing on the edge of the water, playing with soaked rose petals, urging you to disagree with the movement. "I saw you speaking to Ms. Flanagan.”

You glanced over at him. He was expecting an answer and you couldn't tell him the true meaning of the conversation or else Mags could get in trouble. "That it must be nice to be President Snow's favorite victor." You took another drink, "I told her that isn't true, it would be wrong of you to pick favorites."

He smiled to himself, "It isn't wrong; I do have a favorite."

“Did he not…"

“No, never.”

You knew he wasn't lying, knew in the way his eyes drank you in he wasn't lying. He took a deep breath, folding up his sleeves, coming around the back of the tub, "I did a lot of thinking." His hand came up to your neck, running down the wet flesh, fanning your hair out of the way. "And you were right." His lips were pressing against your jugular kissing down and across your shoulders his hands following the same trail.

"About what?" Your chest was rising and falling too fast vision blurring, brain clouded.

His mouth was against your ear, "You have been so good to me." He bit down on your ear. His hand was dipping further into the water until it was fighting your heavy skirt to get underneath, "And I've been so selfish."

You froze as you watched in horror as his hand disappeared underneath the skirts of the dress. He shifted his other hand coming around to float down your chest. He was under the hem of your underwear as your lips parted in a gasp feeling the slide of his fingers against your folds. Your hands were coming up to stop him, "Mr. President plea-!"

Two fingers sunk into you. You cried out, hips bucking at the contact, but his other arm slammed you back into the tub, "Shh, shh, it's okay." He whispered into your ear. "It will feel good." He kissed your neck, his other hands slipping under the neckline to grip your breast. You had your claws in his arm as he slowly moved his fingers inside of you.

Conflicting feelings began to arise within you, you felt fear at the intrusion, but your face burned as pleasure shot through your body. It shouldn't feel good, but he said it would, and so it did. Him touching you this way shouldn't bring a blush to your cheeks, an aching throb to your core. He was curling his fingers inside of you stroking a deep sweet spot you could never reach on the nights you had tried to explore your own body. At the same time his thumb brushed over your nipple kneading your breast into his hand.

You felt your hands slipping off of him.

"Let me make you feel good. I know you want to, can feel your pussy sucking me in." You chewed on your lip turning your face from him as your knees involuntarily curled up, spreading you open more for him, "There you go," his husky voice said in your ear as he once again shifted to push his hand inside further, the other squeezing your breast. You bit back the noise gurgling in your throat; no your body had betrayed you enough, you would not let him hear it too. "I saw you," He panted nearly engulfing you with his chest. "I saw you looking at me, clinging to me, begging me to save you from those men who want to take you from me." His thumb swirled around the sensitive bud between your legs and your hand shot up twisting into his shirt, toes curling, "I wanted to fuck you in front of them all, watch them drool as I take what is mine and not theirs." His thrust were vicious, his thumb pressing down, the other hand pinching and rolling your nipple. "Mine." He hissed against your hot skin.

You threw your head back against his chest the moan breaking from the confines of your throat. His eyes were there to greet you, his hand pulling off your breast to wrap into your hair forcing you to stay put, to keep staring at him. Because he wanted to see your face as he made you come undone, as he burned through you like wildfire. Yours eyes screwed up, fast pants leaving your agape mouth, and all you could do was keep his gaze as he brought you to the peak of ecstasy.

"Cum for me," He growled, "Be my good girl and cum right now." Maybe it was the trained etiquette built in, maybe it was him, but your body clamped down on his hand stars spilling into your vision as you came. It felt like betrayal; it felt wrong to let the pleasure leak out of your body as his hand stayed rooted within you. His mouth was on yours stealing breath from your lungs as he shoved his tongue between your teeth. It was possession and ownership and it was all his to command. His bit down on your bottom lip tugging until his teeth broke skin, and then he was kissing you again the taste of rust filling your mouth, brain unsure what to feel but the pain oozing from the open wound and the delicious pulsing between your legs.

You couldn't kiss him back. Couldn't do anything but lay limp in the water for him. You came down from the high he had given you confused as the bliss danced down your spine. Until finally his hand slipped out of you, the emptiness tugging in a weird place and you stared at him blankly. He kissed your lips again, gently like it would break you. Your bottom lip was trembling as he pushed you forwards undoing the rest of the dress. It felt so wrong, everything, he had violated you in a such a way and you had let him because your body couldn't avoid the pleasure he had made you feel

He pulled you out of the soaking dress, and picked you up from the bath, head lolling against his chest. You were naked and dripping when he placed you on the bed not caring enough to even dry you off as stray red petals clung to your skin. He was still pawing at you as you stared up at the ceiling, hands on your naked flesh, nails digging in where he wanted to grab. "So soft," You heard him mutter his mouth tasting along your body, drinking in your moisture.

Your head was somewhere else, the alcohol, the orgasm, the exhaustion was dragging you under. You couldn't quite see him anymore, "Please," You mumbled his tongue circling your nipple, fingers inside your sopping cunt once more. "I'm so tired." Tears were rolling down your cheeks, or was that simply water from the bath? Why were you crying if it felt good? He hadn't forced himself inside your mouth, inside you, he was rewarding you for your good behavior.

"Shh." He only hushed you. "Close your eyes." You did close your eyes unable to keep them open, a soft whine leaving your throat as he pushed your legs apart, "Look at you," His voice sounded underwater he was still speaking, but you couldn't hear him anymore his hand viciously thrusting inside of you. "Do you like that?"

You were whispering something, but couldn't feel the words your head being pulled into the pillow fingers clawing at him, for him.

"You do." You felt warmth between your legs and soon his head was there, his tongue licking up the center of you a smile beneath it all.

You orgasmed one more time before blackness pulled you under.

You awoke to an empty bed. You groaned barely able to open your eyes the air hitting your bare chest. He had left you here, alone and drenched in your own arousal. Your thighs were soaked and sticky his own pleasure splattered across your breast. You wanted to sob, each shaky breath hurt your ribs, but the tears never came. Because as you stroked your fingers through everything he had pulled out of you, you knew you had let this happen, you had let him do this to you. Your body had given itself over willingly to him as you rubbed the proof between your fingers. You wanted to feel shame; you wanted to feel broken, but all you felt was left over euphoria from what he had given you.

He had never fucked you; you would have known. You would feel the pain of something like that, see the blood as he broke through your maidenhead. No, he had just feasted on your flesh, drained every drop he could and abandoned you here. You rolled over, body sore from what he had done and slowly rose from the bed.

Then you padded to the bathroom, reran the bath, and soaked his touch off.

The stylist team came again, Tigris came again. Curling your hair, pinning it half up-half down, smearing on more makeup, and sliding you into a chiffon lavender dress. Another image of innocence; a sweet girl pliant for men.

"How are you?" She asked placing more foundation in a mark he had pressed into the flesh on your neck. He had tried to be careful, biting and bruising what no one could see loosing control most of the time, but you saw it. Saw the outline of every half moon cut he had made, the teeth indents of his mouth, the deep blues and purples littering your skin. He fashioned himself an artist; your naked body was his masterpiece signing his name is white pleasure.

You blinked up at her, "Why me?" You didn't think you could trust her with the knowledge Mags had told you; that he had never touched her, and instead singled you out.

Her brush slowed, "I don't know."

"I'm no one, just a girl from District 6." You glanced down as she pulled her hand back. "I'm nobody."

"You're not." She whispered. "You're a-you won." Her back was to you as she set down her things, "He..."

You waited until she turned back around to look into her eyes, "He's a monster." She saw some goodness in him that wasn't there and you had no idea why.

Tigris was abhorred. "I don't know why he's doing this. He's possessive and his obsession drives him mad sometimes. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She packed her things quickly leaving the room in a panicked rush as you sat in silence.

An Avox came by an hour later leading you down the elevator and out where a sleek black car waited on the curb. Your heart stuttered as the door was held open for you a hand outstretched to help you inside. He was sitting within, red leather seats sinking you in. "How did you sleep?" He brushed a knuckle over his lips to hide the smirk as the door closed behind you.

"Good." You lied. It was deep, but waking up was jarring. You still felt the ache of his touch inside of you, the feel of his mouth wrapped around your clit. "Thank you Mr. President, sir."

His hand fell on your thigh. "I'm having you moved to the mansion." He told you, "I don't like you being so far away where I can't protect you." You swallowed the look in your eyes asking him, from what? "These men are desperate for you," He stroked your leg an attempt at a reassuring look in his eyes. "I'm afraid at what they might do before a deal is set. I want you close, where I know where you are all the time."

He wanted you in his cage, but he did have a point. "Thank you Mr. President, sir." Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. You didn't want a deal set, you didn't want other men hunting you down and taking more pieces of you. "Are we..." You gazed out the window. Are we going to one of them now, you wanted to ask.

"Yes and no; he'll come by the house later. I think you'll like him." He turned towards the window. "I want to show you something first." The drive was quiet. You were too afraid to ask anymore question in fear it would break your resolve further. He kept his hand on your leg and when the car stopped he held onto you tightly leading you away from the road towards his home. "You showed me yours; I think it only fitting I show you mine." He whispered close to your ear gripping around your waist as he led you down a side path towards what seemed to be a large greenhouse.

"Oh." You said staring up at it. It was a formidable beast defiantly more kept than your lousy garden at home. Was it even home anymore? You weren't quite sure of anything anymore. He had given you no inclination on when he would let you return. Perhaps when the 'deal' was set you would be allowed to leave until a new victor emerged. He opened the door for you leading you inside letting it click close. The room was covered in roses, just roses. "It's beautiful," You lied taking it all in. He had every color, but white roses took up most of the space, like they were beginning to dominate every root in the soil. It was too pristine, too clean to be anything but frighteningly horrid.

The greenhouse door locked into place, and your breath halted with it. You focused on a blooming white rose running your fingers along the soft petals. You don't know why the idea of being alone with him still scared you when he had seen you at your most vulnerable. "Did you enjoy last night?"

"The party was wonderful." You absentmindedly said; it wasn't what he was inquiring about.

He chuckled his footsteps slow coming closer, "Yes it was a nice party for you," He was standing behind you now. "Everyone was enchanted by you," He trailed his fingers down your skin. "They wouldn't stop talking about all the different ways they wanted to fuck you," His chest was pressing into your back as his hand slithered around your body coming up to your neck to grip your jaw, "But I got to taste your pleasure first, got to feel the softness of your tongue around my cock, got to hear all the pretty noises you make." Your throat bobbed feeling the hardness press into your backside as his thumb pressed into your bruised lip. "I know you enjoyed last night, my darling bluebell, by how drenched my face was buried in your sweet cunt for hours."

Hours. He had been there for hours between your legs, touching you, stealing from you, feasting on you while you were blacked out. You couldn't speak, couldn't move as the vision choked the air from you, his mouth dragging along the tense muscle in your neck.

"Do you still feel me down there?" He was bunching up the skirts of your dress. And maybe deep inside your brain it remembered him drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you because your body heated, your core grew slick. Treachery coursed through you at your body, at the fact it was less weary of him than you were. "You're fucking wet." He laughed as if he too was astounded by the moistness gathering in your panties as he rubbed his hands along the front of them. He became ravenous after then shoving his hand inside of you with such a force you fell forward. Potted plants clattered to the ground in a pile of dirt and glass, but he didn't care. He only shoved his hand deeper his body curling around you, enveloping you, "You're so fucking soft; like fucking rose petals." He pressed a third finger inside of you and you bit down on the scream, a small whine floating through the quiet air as he stretched you open. "You want my cock inside of you don't you?" He bit down on your neck, "You want me to fill you so badly, you want me to be the one to do it."

"No!" You cried out as he slammed your chest to the table the plants once sat on. The room was filled with the squelching sounds his hand made every brutal thrust into you, your arousal dripping down your legs. You gripped the table feeling him pulling your skirts up around your back, ripping off your underwear leaving you bare for him. You knew deep down your body would take him, suck him in greedily, allowing him to live there while you writhed in agony and embarrassment. Maybe it had something to do with the small power you felt that he was unable to control his desire for you, or maybe it was simple need. Wicked, cruel thing human nature seemed to be, she laughed at you while allowing him to take more, more, more.

You kicked your leg out trying to buck him off, but he slammed your head back down slapping your backside harshly, "Behave." He growled. You yelped as he slapped you once more his hand pulling out of you. He held you down by a large hand on your head as you squirmed, listening to him unsheathe himself.

"Please," You whimpered. "Please you don't want to do this. You-you said...you'll ruin me for your deal and-and-!”

He spit in your face the warmth of it landing along the corner of your lips and cheek. It trickled into your mouth and your tongue darted out for more. "Don't stutter." He yanked your hips back, "And be my good girl and fucking take it." You were crying now, crying as more wetness slipped out of you, crying as he ran his cock along your folds, crying as the tip of him lined up with your entrance, crying as you wanted him inside you so badly it burned.

A knock on the glass door stilled him before he could push inside of you and you nearly passed out from relief. "Sir?" Someone called inside, "Your guest has arrived."

You were taking large gulps of air every shake of your body rocking against the tip of him. "I'll be right there." He shouted back angrily. He was motionless behind you a deep frustrated sigh the only reminder he was there, a few moments from taking what he so desperately wanted it seemed. "Get on your knees." He pulled your body up and forced you to the ground, bare knees scraping in the broken glass. "Open your mouth." Your body relaxed as you took him; you knew this, you had been through this, you could take it, mouth moist from his spit. He wasn't as kind as before, if you could even call that kind. Forcing his cock to the back of your mouth, snapping his hips against your face as he yanked your hair around to move your head, "So good. So," Snap. "Fucking," Snap. "Good." He had your face buried within his skin as your tongue involuntarily swiped around him feeling his movements stutter at the unwarranted sensation. "You fucking like my cock inside your mouth." You weren't sure, but it was becoming familiar and the safer option, and you didn’t mind the taste of him. He reached down grabbing your hand pulling it to the shaft swirling around it with your palm, "Do it yourself sweet girl, do what I tell you."

So you did. You did what he wanted you to do, swirling your hand around the shaft, took his cock deeper until you gagged letting the spit spill out of the corners of your mouth. Your tongue ran along the head until his movements grew erratic and his thigh became taut hot ropes of cum spilling down your throat.

"Swallow it." He commanded snapping your jaw shut after he pulled out. "All of it." His breaths were heavy. You gazed up at him feeling the remnants trickle down your throat. His eyes were dark, demanding, obsessive. "I want you to kiss his cheek with my cum still on your breath." He left you on the ground as he went to the door. "Clean her up, get her ready for lunch." He called to some servant.

You glanced down at the dirt staining your chest from where he slammed you, the blood blooming on the dress from your scraped knees, your smeared makeup no doubt. You let them help you up and cart you back to the house.

An hour later, and now a pink dress covering your skin, you sat down at the table. It was a small thing, set to fit only six people in a small room cascaded in sunlight. The windows were open letting in warm air and a breeze that ruffled the curtains. He sat to the chair next to you cutting into his food while he spoke to you...buyer. The highest bidder.

The man was handsome, maybe a tad older than the darling President, but not by much. He had dark hair and darker eyes a slight shadow of a beard gracing his features. He wore a light blue suit that was almost tacky compared to Snow's deep green. You shook your head at the ridiculousness of comparing the two, comparing the buyer to the seller.

And yet, President Snow's presence comforted you, which in turn disgusted you. It gave you a headache and you drank dainty sips from your cup of sparkling wine hoping to avoid the feelings this afternoon was invoking from you. A mere hour ago he was shoving his cock down your throat, and you had savored the flavor of him. Now he was wanting money for your virtue. You glanced across the table once more.

You had won the games, and this was your peace they had promised.

There was no winning. Only surviving.

He left after an hour long lunch barely speaking to you at all, but when he left he grabbed you. He pulled you in close hand blatantly spread across your back side as he forced you to kiss his cheek. Could he smell it? Could he smell his President's cum stuck between your teeth?

When he left Snow had an anger to him which surprised you given the fact he was the one pawning you off, he should be happy.

Your eyes met, sunlight heating your back from the window as you watch his teeth grind together never looking away from you. Then your face began to fall, knees wobbling, at the realization of the reason behind his anger.

He forced you away without another word.

PART THREE HERE!

( its disgustingly smutty so bring holy water )

notes: this had WAY too much plot sorry lmao

tags: @astarborntowrite , @genderfluid-anime-goth , @merlieve , @darktrashsoulbear

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo smut #dark fanfic #fanfic #dark fanfiction #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coryo snow #president coriolanus snow #dark coriolanus snow #dark coriolanus

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sanjisboyfie · 6 months

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yandere sanji headcanons

sanji x male reader :)

yandere ! sanji . . . is much, much, much smarter than others. sometimes he has a very subtle way of making all your attention be on him, in ways that you don't pick up on until it's too late. oh, you wanted to go to the island the crew recently docked at? that's fine, he had to go into town as well for new ingrediants, but suddenly you "lost" your way into the main town and are now having a cute picnic at the mountaintop. don't worry about the groceries, sanji had chopper and usopp take care of it so you can have this cute picnic! with all your favorite foods too, don't you love it?

yandere ! sanji . . . cares so, so, so much about you and your comfortability. if he has to kick innocent civilians down the street to make enough space for you, he would do it in an instant. he just wants to make sure you're comfortable enough. if he finds out something is bothering you, he very readily jumps at the oppurtunity to "save" you from your discomfort. he's your knight in shining armor and you're his prince. his entire life reputation rides on keeping you comfortably, safe, and happy.

sanji was hovering behind you, a delighted look on his face. he was carrying around a drink that you were drinking, begging for you to let him hold it, so, "your hands don't have to get tired, my love, don't worry, i'll hold it for you," as if holding a cup would make your hands fall off.

him holding it almost meant that you had to turn to him each time you wanted a sip and that meant all of your attention was on him, even if for a milisecond.

unfortunately, when you turned to take a sip from your drink and as sanji was too enamored in looking at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes, neither of you saw that you were about to hit another group of people.

they were holding a small plate of street food which splattered all over your clothes. they were about to begin apologizing profusely, but were interuppted when sanji's curses cut them off.

"hey! bastard, why don't you watch where you're going?! you've just completely ruined his shirt!" sanji defended, hands clenched at his sides as he tried to not completely floor the people in front of him, "apologize to him this instant, you scum!"

"sanji! stop, it's not even that bad," you tugged sanji backwards, the blonde absolutely melting at your touch. the tight grip you had on his wrist was almost enough to make him keel over and begin kissing at your feet as a sign of worshipping you. "please, don't mind him - it was an accident. i'm sorry for ruining your meal, would you like some beri to buy it again?"

"my love, please, don't give these men-"

"sanji, enough," that single word was enough to silence him.

the men didn't want any of your beri, opting to run away before sanji had kicked some sense into them. a single stern look from you to your lover was enough to make him apologize profusely to you, begging for forgiveness at his brash words and aggressive actions.

yandere ! sanji . . . is an absolute sucker in worshipping you. in any way he can, any way that can make you know that he loves you so, so, so very much.

"my beautiful boy, do you need anything from the kitchen? i can make your favorite?" he wants to make sure you know he is willing to drop everything for you. if you're hungry, he will immediately put his skills to work in cooking up the most delicious meal for you.

"my love, do you want me to wash your hair later tonight?" he loves carding his hands through your hair, he even massages your scalp to make sure you find the experience pleasant as well.

"[name], the light of my life, please, allow me to do this for you - i swear i will get it done as fast as possible," you just needed to wash your clothes.

yandere ! sanji . . . who condemns the idea of finding anyone else attractive but you. his shenangians that he used to do towards women are long gone. he still treats them with respect, but it's genuinely the bare minimum. all his shouts of how beautiful they were turned into cries of how handsome his prince is. the shouts of glee that erupted whenever nami praised him were turned into gruff, abrupt "thank you"s. and whenever you even breathe in his direction, he's going down on one knee and begging you to marry him - to make him your husband.

yandere ! sanji . . . has a really terrible habit of only taking things seriously if it involes you. the crew is in danger? he's going to ask if you're with the crew first and if you are - he's jumping to action. if you're not, then he kind of needs convincing. your presence has clouded his moral compass. because if you're safe and by his side...should he even care about those that aren't you? genuinely sees others that are not you as nothing but nuisances.

yandere ! sanji . . . wakes up everyday and acts as your servant. he lives and breathes everyday to please you, to make you happy. he can't imagine having any other purpose in his life, cooking perhaps comes as a close second. but in his mind, he shamelessly puts you first before every single thing.

#≡;- ꒰ ° yandere headcanons ꒱#≡;- ꒰ ° yandere series ꒱#one piece imagines #yandere one piece #yandere sanji #one piece x male reader #yandere headcanons #sanji headcanons #yandere sanji x male reader #yandere sanji x reader #x male reader #sanji x male reader #male reader imagines #yandere x male reader #yandere x reader #male reader #sanji x reader

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thecosmosdefys · 7 months

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Nightmares With Simon

Pairings: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Gn ! Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, Violence, Cussing, Major Character Death (In the nightmare), Blood, Gore(ish), Puke Mentions, Panic Attack

Synopsis: You have a nightmare about Simon dying in front of you and he wakes you up and comforts you

After about an hour of sitting absolutely still you ended up falling asleep in Simon's arms.. Or so you thought. You were awoken in a different room, and Simon was gone. Almost instantly you threw your hands over your ears as the loud noises of gunshots rang through the small place. In a panic you flew up and all you could think about was to find Simon and escape. As soon as you left the room you saw so much chaos… yet no one reacted to you. Almost as if you weren’t there. Everything seemed to go in slow motion for a bit and it didn’t hit you that you were a part of a dream, nor that you couldn’t be seen or heard. You jumped from one room to the next desperately trying to find Simon but with no luck. Memory of how you got here seemed to have completely been lost to you. You had no idea where you were, where Simon was, or how the fuck you even got here to begin with. Nothing made sense.

All of the sudden as you were hiding in a room you saw what seemed to be a flash of your Husband’s mask. “Simon!! I'm right here!! Simon!!” You screamed until your vocal chords felt like they were going to snap. He… ignored you. Your chest burned and you dashed out of the room like a mad man only to watch in slow motion as several bullets made contact with his body. You screamed his name out and right as the blood and flesh splattered on your body.. You felt a cold splash.

With a scream you flew up out of bed almost knocking a very terrified looking Simon down with you. His hands gripped your shoulders firmly and he was trying to speak to you but all of his words seemed to come out like a blur, you couldn’t hear him. You felt your stomach begin to gurgle and the remains of your dinner began to come up. You threw him off you and ran to the bathroom barely making it in time to vomit into the toilet bowl. Your hearing was ringing, the lights hurt, your stomach hurt, everything hurt.

You nearly jumped out of your skin whenever Simon came up behind you and held your hair back for you. In between vomiting you were full blown sobbing your shoulders shaking violently. Simon seemed to try his best to console you but for the better part of the next thirty minutes you were completely inconsolable. At some point after wiping the vomit off your mouth and spitting the remains into the toilet bowl, you had turned around and were clutching onto a now on the floor Simon as if he was your life line.

Tears fell freely from your eyes as you gripped onto his shirt, shaking violently. Soft little shh's and it’s alright left his mouth as he rubbed your back in a circular soothing pattern. “You… You died” you had managed to borderline mumble out between sobs. Simon did his best to continue to soothe you until you could manage to tell him what happened. He held you tight as the description of your dream tumbled out of your mouth. “It’s alright luv’... I’m alive.. Im right here… Were both right here…” He whispered as he pushed your hair out of your face, still holding onto you tight.

After about thirty more minutes he managed to get your sobbing down to just the tremble of your lip, he slowly picked you up after flushing the toilet and then pulled you into bed. He wrapped a big thick warm blanket around the both of you and pulled you tight to his body as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and attempted his best to ground you. “I would never leave you like that luv. If you ever screamed my name I'd be right there in an instant, and most importantly I would never put you in harm's way.” He whispered into your ear as he continued to rub your back in the same motion as before.

Slowly enough your breathing managed to slow, the tears beginning to dry up, and the tremble of your lip ceased. He watched as your eyes fluttered shut and you finally managed to succumb to sleep once again. He sighed and then kissed your forehead before saying, “ I love you.. It was all just a dream.. Don’t worry..” After that he slipped off to sleep himself.

#simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley comfort #hurt/comfort #tw nightmares #fear #sleep deprivation #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod ghost #mw2 #simon ghost riley

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bagdaddyb · 7 months

Text

Spider's Web

Summary: What really happens when you're gone on missions?

Pairing: fem!ssReader x Natasha

Warnings: Angst no happy ending.

AN: We all need our heart broken sometimes

Exiting the quinjet you released an audible sigh of exhaustion. The mission while shorter than scheduled had sapped all the energy out of you. You were extrememly greatful to be back two days early not sure what a full two weeks would of done to you. Scanning the few on the landing pad you aren't greeted with the comforting red hair of your girlfriend but you don't think much of it, you were early and Natasha was often busy herself. Slumping over you slowly make your way down to the meeting room grabbing your paperwork to get it over and done with so you could enjoy uninterrupted sleep. It only took you about an hour and by the end of it you could barely keep your eyes open.

Making your way to the bedroom you shared with the red head you'd yet to see today you're so in your own head it takes you a moment to register the steady thump you hear coming through the wall. Disregarding the noise, you grab your handle door unlocking due to facial recognition. As you open the door, your drowsiness begins to fade, your adrenaline suddenly pumping as if you were still deployed with bullets flying past you. You recognize the back Maria Hill, her body moving at a steady pace pumping into your girlfriend who is panting below her. Familiar small whines escaping plump lips. The room smells like sex, a noticeable temperature increase once you passed the threshold, and you take into account that they must have been at it for hours, long before you got home. In an instant, you process everything, eyes taking in the disheveled room with clothes thrown everywhere. Every surface slightly rough housed as if they'd gone at it like animals against every piece of furniture you owned, and you can't help the audible deep laugh that escapes you. The noise finally alerting the two spies of your pressence. Maria bends over Natasha in an attempt to cover her, which causes her green eyes to meet yours. The red heads widening frantically and that only makes you laugh a little harder.

"Wow, I have to say even I'm impressed. Your act is so good you even got me to let down my walls. Don't stop on my account, I'll just see myself out."

You say with a chuckle closing the door as you shake your head and fight the tears that want to pool in your eyes. The Black Widow had spun even you the Angel of Death into her web. You should have known, should have realized it was all a lie no one could ever possibly love someone with a past like yours. You begin your trek down the hall towards the elevator unsure of where you were going just knowing you needed to get away. You're almost there when you hear a door slam open behind you but you don't even turn around continuing towards your destination. Your hands flex and unflex, you were truly having an out of body experience. Is this how heartbreak feels? Your chest clenches and suddenly you don't know how to breath. Crossing the threshold into the elevator you turn to hit the button right as Natasha runs up to you. She looks thoroughly fucked hair a mess, kiss plumped lips. Her clothes are thrown on the shirt she's wearing not even hers you realize.

"(Y/N) wait. Let me explain."

You raise your eyebrow crossing your arms as you look down at the shorter woman.

"No, I don't think I will."

"(Y/N) please."

You fight back another chuckle at her desperation.

"You weren't worried about me while I was gone on my mission, you weren't worried about me when I got back almost two hours ago, and if I hadn't walked in on you and Maria you wouldn't be worried about me now. So no Natasha, we're done fuck off and go back to laying under Maria."

You push the girl back getting her outside of the elevator doors before hitting the ground floor not bothering to spare the red head another glance. As soon as the doors ping signaling you're at your destination, you're walking. Heading straight for the front doors to the compound. You keep going passing the garden, the track, the tech building, heading straight for the forest tree line.

"FUUUUUUCK."

You scream at the top of your lungs before punching a tree with all your might the log exploding into a rain of small splinters.

"Guess you learned your lesson (Y/N)."

You say to yourself as you pace back and forth. The pain in your chest unfamiliar and highly uncomfortable. Your throat hurts with the tears you refuse to let out, blood pumping with anger and sadness all together. This feeling was unbearable, you'd compare it even to tortures you'd endured as a science guinea pig. You try and even out your breathing ignoring the tremble in your lip and cloudiness in your eyes.

"You're okay, you're okay. You are okay."

Four Months Later

You grab your go bag slipping it over your shoulder. You're dressed in your familiar skin tight black shirt and brown pants. Fabric straining around your new muscle growth. You leave your shoulder length hair to fall around your face deciding to tie it up later in the quinjet. Chewing on a piece of gum you head for the roof. In the past one hundred and twenty three days you'd shut yourself off completely. Detaching from your own emotions even you don't recognize yourself in the mirror sometimes but it was for the best, for your protection. You'd dedicated yourself to your job and your training finding little to no time for anything else and taking almost every mission that came across your desk. On the roof you're greeted by your fellow Avengers the trip to Wakanda an urgent one that required the whole team. You keep your head down for the most part not wanting to risk locking eyes with ones you knew to be staring at you. You'd successfully avoided Natasha since your last encounter and even though this mission would be the first you'd work together since you were determined to keep it up. After the quick debreif you all load onto the jet taking your usual seat off in the corner you plug your ears with headphones wanting nothing more that to be left alone for the flight. You ignore the familiar feeling of eyes on you settling to scroll through your phone for music, you feel her steps approach through vibrations in the floor but don't look up completely ignoring her pressence when she comes to stand in front of you. She hesistates a moment before sighing moving to sit next to you but before she can another red head quickly slots into the space crossing her legs and opening up the book she had in her hands.

"Sorry but this spots taken."

Wanda says without even looking up leaning back as she begins to read allowing her red wisp like magic to float between her fingers. Another sigh escapes Natasha but she accepts her defeat moving to the other side of the jet to sit by Clint. I appreciate that. You think knowing the scarlett witch is listening and she merely hums in response eyes never leaving the pages before her. As you apporach the border you pull out a hair tie running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame it before pulling it back. The action catches the witches attention pulling her eyes from her book for the first time that flight.

"May I?"

The question causes you to pause eyeing the red head out the corner of your eye as you contemplate.

"No need to think so hard I promise not to ruin your precious locks."

You release a sigh relenting and passing the hair tie to the woman next to you. You hate to admit how comforting it feels to have her nails lightly scratch your scalps as she pulls your hair back. Making quick work of throwing your hair into an efficient bun. The trip to Wakanda is worse than imagined the attack being more that anyone had anticipated and if it hadn't of been for an unexpected visit from Fury's friend among the stars you're sure more than one of you would of ended up dead. You search the battlefield with Steve and Bucky looking for Wanda, Natasha, and Tony. Your three unaccounted for teammates. While Jarvis still had heartbeat signatures from all of them Steve begins to audibly worry the longer the search takes. You find Tony first half his suit fried and fighting unconsciousness Steve picks him up lightly before running back to the others. You and Bucky continue deeper in the battlefield luckily it doesn't take long you find both red heads close to eachother, the two of them having gone down in some last stand together. Natasha has a bad cut on her abdomen but the bleeding has mostly stopped indicating the blade didnt hit any artery. Wanda has nasty cuts to both arms including a gash on her thigh which she seemed to have temporarily mended with the last of her magic. Bucky moves towards Wanda but you grab his shoulder moving ahead of him towards Wanda going around Natasha's injured form. You miss the tears that form in the Black Widows eyes not that you'd of cared for them anyway. Bending over Wanda you push her messy hair out of her face before giving her a once over.

"Always have to go a bit overboard don't you witch?"

You ask as you examine her arms before leaning towards her thigh noting the seriousness of the injury.

"Go hard or go home. Isn't that what you tell me in the gym?"

Her accented voice replies and for the first time in one hundred and twenty three days a small smile plays on your lips.

"Yes, yes it is."

You tuck your arm under Wanda's legs before placing your other behind her back.

"Hold onto me, we need to get you to med asap your leg is in seriously bad shape."

The witch hums in response her magic use taking its toll but doing as instructed as you lift her bridal style turning to Bucky who held Natasha in a similar fashion The two of you take off in a cool jog, your eyes constantly scanning the witch in your arms. Approaching the rest of the team and medical you waste no time heading straight to Banner as he finishes looking over Tony.

"She's in rough shape, the cut to her thigh hit an artery."

Banner immediately gets to work the moment you lay the girl on the table.

"Don't pass out on me now Wanda."

You say as you see her eyelids begin to flutter causing a light chuckle to leave the red heads lips.

"After you you call me Wanda, I would never."

On the quinjet you watch Wanda from affar for a minute mind running a million miles a second but once you see Natasha trying again to apprach you, you make up your mind. Grabbing the book you knew Wanda was reading earlier you go to sit beside the woman who was laying with her eyes closed.

"Would you like me to read to you?"

You ask after a beat of slience. Green eyes crack open looking your way before smiling.

"I would love that."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romonoff x y/n #natasha cheating #bagdaddyb

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mondaysoct · 21 days

Text

restless night.

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

—content: angst, fluff, he found you in his dreams | part 1: distress of mind.

—word count: 1.5k

The weight of the silence sinking in as the sun sets and the room grows darker. His mind is filled with regret and doubt. He can barely see the tiny picture of you on his screen.

The silence continues to grow as he starts to feel exhausted and gives in. The sadness begins slowly growing in his mind as the silence consumes him.

He closes his eyes and lets the darkness take over.

The clock strikes midnight and the hours tick by into the 1’s and then 2 o’clock.

Desperately waiting.

Waiting for something from you. But nothing comes.

Give into the reality that he is truly alone.

He tosses and turns throughout the night. His sleep is fitful, interrupted by dreams of you. He can see your face and your figure. But he can’t hear your voice as you speak to him. He reaches out, trying to touch you in his dreams, but you disappear in an instant, leaving him in the empty void once again.

Always trying to touch you. Always coming up empty. It’s the same dream every night. The same empty void. The same longing for you.

Exhausted from the restless night but his mind is still active.

He keeps reaching out for you. Desperate to find you again and feel you against him. Each time he thinks he has found you, though, you disappear from his grasp. It’s like a cruel game being played. One where the only loser is him.

Another hour passes by as the clock strikes three-thirty. And still his mind remains active. He feels his body getting physically exhausted from lack of sleep. But he’s too caught up in thoughts of you.

He can feel your presence. Can hear your voice. Can almost feel the touch of your skin. But just as he feels so close to you…you disappear and leave him alone again.

Every time your name pops into his head, a small wave of longing crashes down on him. It’s like his brain is taunting him, reminding him of everything that he once had. And the void of your absence is starting to drive him insane.

Tender make love going smoothly, happens in midnight when everything went silent as he near you between his cruel world.

The touch of your fingers as they run up his skin. He hears the soft giggles from you and his gut squirms with butterflies as he stares at your lovely face.

He can almost feel everything happening. Even though it isn’t actually happening.

You're getting into it, your body shifting and rubbing against his as he holds you down on the bed. Your breath hot and heavy as you keep whispering his name.

He can barely make out the words with your heavy breath. Your plumpy, dark pink lips begging for him to take charge. The sweat on his skin is making your grip slip but he roll his hips in steady pace inside you make you moan for him.

You arching your back, your body shakes and shivers from the release.

Your legs loosen from him and you fall back and leans yourself on the bed.

"I love you, simon. Believe me, God knows how much I love you." You whisper with soft smile on your lips.

He stares at you and he wants to say it back too. But is it real? Is it just because it’s a dream? Will he see you again? Will he ever hear those words again…?

You stare into his eyes. You can see the uncertainty in them. You wonder if he’s really hearing you…or just dreaming it.

A small breeze of night air mix with heat of sex moves throughout the room. The moonlight casts shadows on the bodies as you lay naked on the bed after sharing intimacy.

Minutes pass by and the silence continues. He looks at you for a long time. He knows that if he ever wakes up from this dream. You will be gone again. Like you were always gone. He sighs and just stares at you. Eventually his eyes start to flicker as his body is too tired to stay awake in this dream any longer.

He stares at you for a few more moments before he finally speaks. "I love you too...so much...more than I could ever say..."

He smiles to himself at the thought. His stomach flips at the thought of your love. Even if it was just a dream. Even if it wasn’t real. It felt real enough for him. He’s just going to enjoy the moment. He doesn’t want to think about anything else right now. Just the hope of you…the hope of being told those words again...

You stare back at him with a soft glimmer in your eyes. You smile and kisses him softly on the lips.

He can’t believe he’s actually able to feel this. To touch you. To hold you. The heat and the touch of your body distracting him.

“Y/N…” He whispers your name again. He’s never said your name before like this. But he can’t help himself now.

“Yes Simon?” You whisper back that you’re there and your presence is like a light to him.

“...How…how did you find me…” He whispers.

"I don't know, I think God lead the way." You say.

He smiles at the thought of it being so simple, that it was just the work of an entity that knew better than human comprehension.

He thinks about the concept of God. The idea that it’s possible that something greater is watching over them, guiding them.

Would a higher power really do that? Lead you to him? To lead you to his soul? He’s beginning to believe it. And he’s starting to have a faint feeling of hope.

He loves the idea that you made your way here like something grander than themselves. Something divine.

You had no idea how right you are. It seems as of fate has brought you together again. A chance for him to have someone to hold him. To tell him that you love him. To make him feel seen and appreciated. To care. To be cared for.

He stares at you for a moment as a wave of relief goes through him. He's not sure of why he feels relieved, but he does. "I'm glad he brought you to me..."

“God knows what good for us, Si.”

“He does…” he says quietly, but there are some doubts to his mind. How were these two paths intertwined? How did God lead you here in the first place? But he suppresses the thoughts, choosing not to think about them.

“He must…He must know something…” He holds you tight and he closes his eyes as he tries to keep the moment alive.

“He knows what?” You ask.

"Know that we're meant to be."

"Promise me one thing..." He said.

“Yes?”

"Promise me...that if I ever find you again…you won't disappear on me."

There's a slight pause and he adds.

"Promise me...that we can make this work."

There a slight silent moment when you think about his words. And you said. “I promise, we always find the way.”

"I hope so." He whispers and he stares up at the ceiling. He closes his eyes. "I don't want to ever lose you."

He holds you tighter, squeezing you until you can't leave if you wanted to. "I don't want to lose this. It feels so real..."

“This is real.” You correct.

"Is it? Is it really real?" He asks. His doubt starts to show again. His mind can't fully believe it. He stares up at the ceiling, as if he wants confirmation.

“I think you drink too much, love.” He stares at you as you lean your head up against him. Your eyes have a playful glint in them when you giggle at him. It makes him forget about his doubt for a second and he laughs with you.

"I'm not drunk. I've been completely sober this whole time. Love." He says playfully, he puts extra stress on the word 'love'. He grins after saying the word.

The moment is so precious to him and he feels something he hasn’t felt in years.

The doubt and thoughts creep back in again. A frown forms on his face as his mind starts thinking again.

His mind keeps going back to "is it real?" The memories of what they had feel like it really happened; everything feels so real even now.

This is the closest to reality that he’s gotten so far..even if it is just a dream.

The dream feels so real to him…was it just a dream? Or is that still you, talking to him…in his dreams? Or is it someone new in his life? Someone new that really loves him back? Someone who really is there for him?…The doubt and the sadness creeps in slowly and he can feel that familiar sensation creeping back on his mind.

He sighs and he squeezes his eyes shut. He's tired. He's tired of thinking about everything. He's mentally exhausted. The thoughts and the doubts are just spinning around his head. He wants the reality of that dream to be real so much, but that's just not possible. He doesn't even know if he'll find you again. His frown darkens in the silence.

Thanks for reading ♡

dividers by: @cafekitsune

#ℳ—writes #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #writing

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peachycrisis · 2 months

Text

Human Again

Chapter 3

—————

Charlie watched the man infront of her practically internally fall apart with a matter of seconds, she noticed his breathing beginning to become heavy as he started to chuckle to himself, looking down as he started muttering words she couldn’t quite understand. The former radio demon moved his arms close to his chest, as if he was trying to hide himself from the world- but yet that signature smile was still plastered on his face.

“Al….” She spoke his name softly, with no response from the other.

“Alastor.” She spoke louder, still soft but with a stern underwater that showed that she was being serious. Alastor looked up with teary eyes.

“I’m sorry dear, a little hiccup- that’s all!” the man spoke, stretching out his smile more in an attempt to hide his panic.

“Okay, this looks pretty bad- but I’m going to stitch you up, is that okay?” Charlie asked, Alastor started at her with wide eyes for a moment, before sighing and reluctantly agreeing.

“Alright, I have supplies in the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” She got up from the floor turning her back to the injured radio host, before turning her head back towards him.

“Dont. Move.”

“I-“

“Don’t. Move.” She spoke again, stern enough to even make the radio demon feel taken back. “Rest, lay back and relax. We both know you need it.” She spoke before walking out the door, closing it behind her leaving the man alone with his thoughts. His terribly human thoughts.”

Alastor hated looking pathetic- and weak. He had built up this whole persona, being one of the strongest and most feared overlords in all of hell, and now all of that power he has acquired over nearly 90 years had gone away within an instant- leaving him as an empty shell of what he once was and what he was once capable of.

And now he’s left in this body- this body he had hated the entirety of his human existence.

Alastor had always been a scrawny kid, even in life he had always been thin- too thin for his liking. He had never been one to have much of an appetite in life. Yes, he was stocky- and had muscles from years of digging holes on his family’s farm- and he had caught the eyes of many girls, and boys throughout the years due to his magnificent looks (not like he would be interested in either, like Rosie said he is an ‘ace in the hole’.)

To others, he was beauty, but to him, he had always been a kid who was skin and bones. A broken skeleton.

He hated this, he hated looking weak, and he especially hated feeling bare and exposed.

——————

“Calm down, Carl. Please.” A woman spoke from the other side of the table, begging her husband to calm down. The man got up abruptly.

“I’m going outside.” the man spoke, kicking his chair, heading out of the dining room- but not without forgetting his bottle. The woman sighed sadly before putting her focus back on her distraught son. She watched him tremble as tears welled in his eyes.

“Bambi- you gotta eat something, you’re skin and bones honey.” The woman spoke softly, gesturing towards the bowl of jambalaya infront of hun. The woman wore a beautiful gown, and sported beautiful brown curly hair that rode its way down her back, close to her waist.

“I’m not hungry.” The boy whimpered, he looked down at his trembling palms, which now resides in his lap.

“Al, honey- look at me” she spoke as she lifted up his chin. The boy was dressed in a white dress shirt, brown dress pants- and a red apron. The boy looked up at his mother with big brown doe eyes and brown curly hair, a couple of strands being stuck behind his round framed glasses.

“In situations like this, we gotta keep our hopes up- okay?” She spoke softly, moving her hand from his chin to his cheek, caressing it softly. “We just gotta think good thoughts and hope that everything passes, a smile is a valuable tool my dear, it assures that through anything that comes our way- we will always be the ones in control”

“now smile for me honey, it will be okay. You’re never fully dressed without one.” She said as she got up from the table, heading outside to chase after her husband- leaving her son at the table, alone.

the boy looked down at his arms- pale, ragety and scarred. He put on his best smile- grabbed the knife he used to make his family’s meal, and headed to the bathroom.

——————

Alastor sighed as he relaxed his arms into his lap, waiting for Charlie to return with the medical supplies. Even though he knew he was technically in his own body, it still felt foreign. He felt powerless. He felt… human.

And that feeling is both a blessing, and a curse. A curse, especially for the radio demon.

He looked down at his bare arms, the formally black claws that faded to grey skin- now a tan, flesh tone, his arms, specifically his lower arms littered in the scars that reminded him both of his physical, and emotional battles. The battles that he had nearly forgotten about, the emotions that he claimed made him weaker. made him prey. And prey is exactly what Alastor, the all mighty radio demon, became.

“Al, I’m back!…Al?” He heard, he looked up and saw Charlie, looking concerned, standing in front of him with a first aid kit. He hadn’t even noticed that she had walked in.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Al spoke softly, his smile on the brink of breaking. He had also nearly forgotten about the big laceration across his chest.

“Honestly dear, I had nearly forgotten about the injury.” he chuckled, glancing down at his chest. Charlie noticed his brown doe eyes, big and glistening with tears threatening to fall. He looked so… innocent? She sighed as she knelt down in front of him, placing the first aid kit next to her- and places her hand on his cheek.

“Alastor, it’s okay to be vulnerable…” she preached quietly, rubbing her finger over his soft cheek, she felt him trembling- he was scared. He was scared, and he still felt the need to keep the mask up. “It’s okay to let it all out, you don’t need to be happy- let alone smile all the time. Not smiling doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong.”

And for the first time in almost a century, the radio demon let go.

She watched as his smile dropped as his breath hitched… the man’s eyes flooded with tears, which began to leak down his cheeks as he began to sob hysterically- as if he hadn’t cried since he was living on earth. The princess got up from her place on the floor and took a seat next to the hysterical man on her bed. She wrapped her arms around him, being careful of not irritating his injury even more. She felt the radio demon put his weight on her as he cried, gripping onto the arms that are wrapped around him, as if they were keeping him afloat.

he needed this, and she was going to help him through it.

15 minutes later, Alastor, the Radio Demon is laying in the lap of Charlie Morningstar, the Princess of hell. Charlie played with the mans hair, soothing his scalp as sniffles and hiccups echoed throughout the room.

“Al?” She spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?”

“We still should take care of that wound.” She chuckled, as she ran her rand from her hair to the man’s cheek, wiping away the dried tear stains. The man sat up with a sigh, looking down at himself.

“Yeah, i would assume that would be a rather smart idea.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alternate universe #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #alastor #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #Hazbin hotel fanfic

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pparadiselost · 1 year

Text

happy ending.

masseur iwaizumi hajime x fem reader iwaizumi's feelings run deeper than he expected. warning(s): nsfw, sex worker iwaizumi, ambiguous relationship minors do not interact.

“hello again,” the all-too-familiar voice welcomes you with a bright smile. “the pretty lady’s come to visit me.”

your heart threatens to beat out of your chest as you lay down on the massage table. a thin robe separates your bare body from iwaizumi hajime’s expert eyes, acting almost like the last line of defense between the man and your nearly-demolished pride. this kind of back-and-forth relationship was nothing new to you, and especially him, yet your stomach swirls like it’s the first time.

your eyes flutter shut, and you force a deep breath through your mouth. a large, calloused hand teasingly flutters over your exposed legs, rubbing slow circles up from your knees to your thighs. his fingers are slick, all oiled up with massage serum, and they glide over your body with little resistance.

even if it’s for your pride, you know goddamn well that attempting to resist him would only be a farce that he’d see through in an instant.

“not even a ‘hello’?” iwaizumi laughs, pretending to be hurt. “i got excited when i heard that you were coming to see me today. you know how much i like seeing you.”

you had sworn to yourself each and every time you came crawling here that this would be the last time, swearing off of this temptation for good, but without fail, you somehow found yourself here not too long after. god, you always thought you were better than this, better than to turn to such underhanded ways to take care of your needs, better than to turn away from every other functional solution in the book.

better than to become dependent on a sex worker.

“c’mon, where has my chatty little lady gone?” iwaizumi snaps you out of your thoughts when his fingers knead suggestively at the curve of your thighs. his hands are no stranger to your body, and your body immediately begins responding to him as his fingertips explore your legs. “normally you’re so eager to talk to me. you have to tell me where you want me to massage you, or i won’t know how to service you best.”

your mouth feels dry when you manage to peel your eyes open. he glances down from above you, and his eyes are as warm and enticing as always. you hate how physically attractive he is: broad shoulders and chest, toned biceps built up from his years of massaging clients, big hands that easily grab and coax your body into a state of relaxed euphoria. it’s like his presence is a drug in it of itself; just knowing that he’s staring at you and giving you all of his attention has you squirming underneath him.

“i-i felt lonely,” you squeak out. “i wanted to be with someone, and all i could think about was coming to you…”

“so you were thinking of me,” he murmurs. a coy smile tugs at his lips, and you swallow thickly. He's ridiculously handsome, and you hate how lecherously your body responds to everything he does. “that makes me really happy, did you know that? knowing that a pretty lady like you thinks of me makes me feel really good.”

his voice is low and sensual, and he continues to rub at your thighs. your core twists and throbs dully, already feeling the effects of his hands on your legs. part of you wishes that he wasn’t so sweet with you, so ready to indulge whatever fantasy you had, but the other part of you revels in hearing that.

you sigh as he works out the tension in your thighs, his hands traveling dangerously upwards. just the sheer anticipation of seeing him had your pussy drooling while you changed out of your clothes, swapping them for the massage robes you had grown accustomed to, and whenever his knuckles travel higher and higher, your core pulses.

you want him. you want those thick fingers inside you, teasing at your needy cunt and fucking you out of them. your head spins with desire, and your body flushes with heat.

“let me guess…” he pinches at your flesh gently, dragging up the hem of your robes up to your waist. you shudder when his hands drop down to your kneecaps, and he pushes against them gently to spread your legs open. a shiver runs up your spine when the cool massage parlor air rushes against your inner thighs and up your exposed slit. “if my pretty girl is sounding this stressed, then i have no choice but to give her some special treatment… you don’t mind now, do you?”

you shake your head. “please… i want it.”

“good girl,” he praises sweetly. “i know what’s best for you. i promise i’ll make you feel reeeeeeal good in a little bit. you have to trust me, okay? gotta make sure that pretty body of yours can keep up with me.”

you nod. you’d let him do whatever he wanted to do to you so long as you’d get to stay with him. your eyes never leave him as he continues to massage your legs sensually, making sure no part of your lower half went untouched. you know he means best, but having him touch you without anything to alleviate the heat coiling and pooling in your gut feels like pure torture.

he can see the way your body trembles underneath his palms, your curves filling out his palms and submitting to his touches so easily. “you’re doing so good for me, dollface. you know how much i love working with you. you always take what i give you, that sweet body of yours… it’s like you were made for my hands.”

“iwa-,” you manage out. you want to rub your thighs together so bad, alleviate some of the pressure in your stomach that’s choking up your senses. your cunt won’t stop clenching around nothing, your hole fluttering excitedly whenever his hands would slide up a little too far.

“i know, pretty, i know,” he soothes. “i’m doing my job. i’d hate to make you all sore when you came to me for the exact opposite.”

sore? you’re pretty sure your body’s about to cave in on itself if you don’t get him to do something. the last thing on your mind is about how you’re going to feel later. a sick part of your mind reasons that if you end up sore after this, you can always come back to have iwaizumi work out the knots. a perfect excuse to visit your momentary sweetheart once more.

your breath catches in the back of your throat, and a pathetic excuse of a moan escapes you when he massages the part of your body where your thighs meet your crotch. his fingers move in suggestive motions back and forth right next to your drenched cunt, shamelessly making a mess between your legs. you’re sure iwaizumi has noticed how wet you are by now, and he’s purposefully sticking to his professional shtick just to rile you up.

if that’s the approach he’s going for, it’s working. as much as you hate to admit, it’s taking everything in you to not grind against his wrist every time he touches near your crotch. your mind is foggy and heavy with lust, your rationale easily clouding over with primal need. iwaizumi has a knack for sending you spiraling into this animalistic like state, where all you can think about is having your cunt stuffed stupid on his massage table.

“you’re holding out so well for me,” the young man murmurs. his voice is sticky and sweet like honey against your ears, and you want to taste his mouth on yours. “do you think you’re ready? think i’ve prepped you enough to take me?”

“yes…!” you gasp. “i’m ready- ‘m ready to take you-”

two fingers move to your core, and he presses his knuckles against your drooling core. you whimper as he slowly spreads your lips apart and finds your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles onto your sensitive nub with his fingertips. heat jerks up into your core, and your pussy’s desperate to have something inside it, to have something stretching out your walls and fucking into you.

iwaizumi hums to himself as he toys with your clit, his honed eyes watching every twitch of your body as he plays with you. he isn’t brutally rough, just rough enough that you can feel every purposeful movement of his wrists and fingers, enough to send you recoiling into the massage bed with pleasure. his other hand latches onto one of your kneecaps, forcefully keeping your legs spread out so that you’re fully exposed to him. you grip at the side of the bed, trying to keep yourself grounded in some way while iwaizumi imitates the motions of a vibrator against your clit.

“nngh…! mmh- iwa- please-” you almost unconsciously buck your hips against his hand, your back arching into his touch. “need more- please, i’m so horny-”

he moves his fingertips up and down your slit, coating his fingers generously with your slick. you moan as he ghosts over your hole, not indulging you with the pleasure of penetration just yet. it’s so humiliating, having your cunt spread out all vulnerable for a man who’s taking his time admiring you and teasing you to your limit, yet you can’t help but get aroused at everything he’s doing to you.

“does this feel good?” he asks. “it’s my job to make sure all my clients feel good before anything else.”

you swear that this man is going to be the death of you. you sob out, “yes! yes, yes, it feels good! don’t tease me like this, iwa- need you in me- need you inside my pussy-”

“oh?” he laughs. two fingertips prod at your entrance, and he laps up the sight of your pretty cunt fluttering at the touch. “you weren’t even saying hello to me earlier, but now you’re feeling rather chatty, aren’t you?”

“‘m sorry-” your body burns with need. if you don’t have him right now, you don’t know what you’ll do with yourself. “please, i’m sorry, i really am- please, iwa, finger me already…”

“now, if you give me a direct command like that, i have no choice but to follow.” he smiles down at you. you grit your teeth as he slowly sticks his two fingers inside of you, your walls eagerly clamping down on his knuckles as he penetrates you bit-by-bit. a strangled moan rips through you as his knuckles stretch you out, and you can feel every little movement of his fingers as he buries himself into you.

you nearly shut your legs from the overwhelming feeling, but iwaizumi keeps a firm hold on your knees. he chides you mockingly, “ah, ah, ah, dollface. i can’t do my job if you don’t give me proper access.”

he can feel your cunt tightening and squeezing around his fingers. his cock strains against his pants, imagining how good it would feel to have your walls all fucked out on his dick instead. but iwaizumi is a professional, and no matter how much blood rushes south as he watches you whine and squirm just from being penetrated on his fingers, he keeps his cool.

everything about this man is unfair to you. his fingers feel inhumanly good inside of you, and before you can even give him your usual clear, he’s already pumping them in and out at a moderate pace. your stomach curls in on itself, and you whimper, your pussy making lewd squelching noises. you know he’s not doing much, only moving his hand back and forth in the general motion of fucking, yet you already feel so heavy-headed and buzzed off of it.

“my pretty lady’s so desperate today.” iwaizumi likes the power rush this gives him. he has you right where he wants you—all at his mercy underneath his hands. you’re already acting this fucked out and horny from his fingers that he can’t fathom how dicked-down-dumb you’re going to be once he gets you ready for the real deal. “did you miss my touch that much? hmmm?”

he scissors you carefully, wiggling his fingers inside of you. you jerk violently against the cool massage bed, crying out loudly as the knot in your gut coils violently. “d-don’t move like that-! don’t be so rough with me…!”

“so sensitive too,” he whispers. despite your cries, he doesn’t stop his onslaught on your cunt. he keeps moving his fingers in a way that drives you mad, has you shaking and mewling to no avail under his touch. he fucks you out on his fingers, curling them into your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars and pumping them in and out to feel your hole clinging to his knuckles greedily.

nothing, absolutely nothing, escapes his notice.

“let me guess.” he plunges his fingers into you again, probing around for your sweet spot. your nails dig into the soft material of the bed, leaving crescent moon marks into the foam. “you couldn’t get off properly since the last time you were with me, could you? no matter how much you tried to fuck yourself on the toys you have home or cum on your fingers, nothing could make you feel good, could it? you just had to come back to me in order to feel anything, to take out everything that’s been building up in you?”

you don’t dare answer him. iwaizumi knows your body like it’s the back of his hand, having explored every inch of you over and over again. he knows you don’t stand a chance against him, not when he knows the perfect ways to egg your body into perfect submission.

if you won’t speak to him, then he’ll simply find a way to force you to answer. he twists his fingers so that his fingertips fuck right into your g-spot, and the effect is immediate.

“iwa!!!” you shriek. your buck your hips suddenly, right into his touch, and he’s nearly unraveled you right there and then. his grip on your tightens, keeping you pinned down against the bed with no choice but to take his fingers as he tortures your g-spot.

“that’s what i thought,” he chuckles darkly. “couldn’t hit that spot right there on your own now, could you? you’ve gotten too used to how i feel. why else would you visit me this much? my pretty lady can’t get herself to cum without me. you need me in order to feel good again.”

“fuck. fuck-!” pleasure overwhelms your body, rushing all through your veins like an incessant monster demanding to be noticed. your cunt shamelessly squelches and gushes all around his knuckles, and your hips can’t help but grind against his fingertips. it’s almost inexplicable, the effect iwaizumi has on you. he knows this best, and he savors the power rush it gives him to see you like this, practically squirting all over his wrist while he keeps you stuck on his massage table.

your orgasm nearly breaks you. iwaizumi feels your plush walls contort and cling to his fingers, and he continues to coax your climax for as long as he can. you’re panting, your body twisting and turning as you squirm under his touch, but iwaizumi wants to keep you in this drunkenly euphoric state for just a little bit longer.

he thinks you look beautiful like this: your body weak and pliant for him, puffy pussy overstimulated and spread out on his fingers, your cunt glistening with your cum and pulsing around his hand like it's begging for something bigger to stretch it out.

something like his cock, for instance.

you shudder. your body feels ridiculously heavy, as if your blood was replaced with lead, and the after effects of your orgasm cling to you. your mind is numb and foggy, reeling from the mind blowing pleasure that iwaizumi forced out of you, and your breathing turns ragged as you lay there all sprawled out on his work table.

“that’s a good girl,” the dark-haired man praises. you shudder again when he pulls his fingers out of you, and iwaizumi admires the sticky string of cum that connects his fingertips to your hole. “bet that felt good, didn’t it? yeah, i know it felt good cumming on my fingers.”

his entire body screams at him to fuck you. his cock strains against his pants, practically choking against the tight material of his underwear, and despite the calm demeanor he keeps, iwaizumi’s barely keeping it together himself. his base instincts are tempting him, telling him to toss his pants off and grab your thighs, to pull you flush to him and fuck into you more like an animal than a man, to fill that slutty pussy of yours up with the cum that you’ve been so desperate for and to feel you shake under him from how good it feels to have your hole stuffed and fucked.

he shakes his head. no. you’re not here for him to use. you’re here to see him, to feel good yourself. it would be unprofessional and straight wrong of him to view you so selfishly, to look at your body with so much lust that he swears he’s going to asphyxiate.

he rubs gentle circles into your thighs, waiting for your breathing to stabilize. “hanging in there?”

“yeah-,” you gasp out, nodding your head slightly. “felt good- that felt so good, iwa…”

he laughs, and he hopes you can’t hear how shaky his voice is. “don’t get all weak on me now. we’re only just getting started, doll. you ready for me, or do you need another minute?”

iwaizumi wants to ravish you. it isn’t right for him to feel this strongly towards a client, towards someone that he shouldn’t hold any feelings for, but the way you tempt him makes him want to scream. he doesn’t see a ring on your finger, no mention of a boyfriend making you so unhappy that you have to come see him instead to sate your sexual needs, and he wants to daydream so bad. he wants to think that he’s the only man that can make you moan, that can make you feel good, that can make that cute cunt of yours squirt all around him until you can’t even breathe.

it’s bad. he has it bad.

“i’m ready…,” you eke out. something inside him stirs sadistically at your voice, and his mouth feels dry as he methodically undoes his pants. you stare at the bulge in his boxers, your pussy throbbing at the thought of his cock inside you, and when he pulls his underwear down, your eyes widen at the size.

this isn’t the first time you’re going to take him, and you doubt it’s going to be your last. but you’d be damned if you thought that you were going to have any of it easy. you swear you can already feel the burn, the stretch, in your cunt, and you’re grateful that iwaizumi took the time to loosen you up with a round already.

he pats at the table, motioning for you to get into position. you scoot down so that you can press your crotch up against his, your legs hanging off of the table while iwaizumi stands over you. his dick rubs up and down your slit, coating himself with a generous amount of your slick. you can feel him twitch against your cunt, desperate to be buried deep inside you, and your pussy painfully clamps up against nothing.

“i don’t think i’ve even done that much to you, but your body’s already ready to take my cock,” he remarks wryly. “gonna make you feel good, alright? stop me at any point if something doesn’t feel right.”

“don’t worry.” you smile at him weakly. “that’s never an issue. you’re so sweet to me, iwaizumi. there’s a reason why i keep coming back to you.”

he grabs his hard cock, lining it up with your entrance. he doesn’t push himself in immediately, but rather, he grabs your hips tightly. his dark eyes meet yours, and your chest tightens when you see the dangerous expression that swirls in his irises.

“hajime,” he breathes. “don’t call me ‘iwaizumi’ while we do this. say my first name.”

iwaizumi doesn’t wait to hear you respond before he’s sliding himself in. your mouth immediately falls open when you feel his cock stretching out your walls, heavy and invading every inch of your sensitive hole. he’s being careful, but even then, it feels like he’s splitting you into two. you whimper, clenching your eyes shut as your velvety walls envelop his dick completely, and he lets out a low groan when he feels you fluttering and pulsing all around him.

he hasn’t even bottomed out inside you, yet your pussy welcomes him in so greedily. it’s like that insatiable cunt of yours was made to take him, made specifically for him to fall in love with and for him to fuck out on his cock until you couldn’t even think about having sex with other men.

“ohhhhhhhh, fuuuuuuuck-!” your voice is airy and drawn out, and iwaizumi wishes he could record it to play it over to himself over and over again. it’s wrong for him to feel this way, to let his heart reach through his bones and flesh towards you, but you keep squeezing his cock and trying to burn the imprint of his dick into your plush walls.

and this is coming from him. he’s seen all sorts of clients, fucked all sorts of different people with that cool professionalism he prides himself with, selling out his body like some kind of commodity because people are willing to fork over money for him.

but when it comes to you? iwaizumi’s convinced you’re a gift sent from heaven. you look so angelic—body all laid out for him, eyes clenched shut as your drooling cunt adjusts to the stretch, legs hooked over his hips, your entire body drunk off of him.

“feeling that good already?” he teases lightly. his calloused hands slap at your hips, and the slight sting makes you clench up around him. “not so fast, pretty lady. we still have a lot of fun in store for us. i can’t serve you properly if you’re going to let yourself go this quickly.”

“c-cock feels so big-,” you whine out. his stomach lurches when he hears you moan, his swollen length threatening to twitch inside of you. the most animalistic urge to pound into you ruthlessly overtakes him momentarily, but iwaizumi swallows heavily and draws his hips back carefully instead.

you let out such a breathless gasp when you feel his slick cock slide out of you before slowly penetrating you again. your walls clamp up and follow him, trying to suck him back into you, greedily clinging to every inch and vein on his girthy dick. what a greedy cunt you have, already broken in so obediently thanks to iwaizumi’s constant efforts, that it’s willing to eat up whatever the masseur is willing to give you.

and he knows you’re feeling good. “c’mon, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. you can take it, can’t you? you’ve taken me before—yeah, that’s it, baby. gonna make you feel good on my cock. that pretty pussy of yours is doing so good…”

your gut twists at his words, and the heat that floods your stomach goes right to your head. your body feels sticky and hot, already overwhelmed from earlier. he’s so dirty even with his praise, and having your hot masseur’s cock splitting your cunt in two doesn’t make the throbbing in your core and skull feel any better.

“c-can’t take too much-,” you sob out, your voice shaking. “‘m still so sensitive- i just came-”

“you said you were ready, doll,” he reminds you. his voice pulls you through the fog and fatigue and overstimulation clinging to your nerves, and you peel your eyes open to look at him. your cunt won’t stop coiling around him, and he pumps his dick in and out, in and out. he’s not being particularly rough or even that demanding, yet having him fuck you slowly like this makes your toes curl.

it doesn’t even feel like he’s fucking you anymore. you swear that it feels like lovemaking, like he’s touching you in the way a lover should, rather than a monetary exchange between a patron and a worker… you’re overrun with the urge to cling to him, to call out his name like he asked you to.

he fucks his dick into you, carefully and lovingly. your pussy eagerly takes him in, sticky walls rubbing up all against him and making his head spin. iwaizumi wishes he could properly articulate how you feel, how good your body feels when he’s balls deep inside of you, but all he can fixate on is the way your cunt drools and sticks onto him.

“so deep-,” you choke back a wave of lewd moans. your core flares with heat, with need, and every time his cockhead teases your insides, you shudder with ecstasy. it’s so wrong, to be so dependent on someone that isn’t even your lover to let out all of your pent-up libido, but it feels so good. “you’re going so deep…!”

“i know,” iwaizumi whispers. “i can feel your pussy taking me in. you’re doing so good for me, pretty girl. does it feel good?”

“yes! feels good, feels so good-,” you eagerly reply. “faster- you can move faster- wanna feel you more-”

oh? the knot in iwaizumi’s stomach hardens, and you let out a wanton whimper when you feel his grip on your hips tighten. you know you begged for him to give you more, yet when he snaps his crotch against yours a bit rougher, your body threatens to give out on you. he’s already pushing you to your limits, stretching out your seams, yet for some reason, you can’t get enough of how good it feels to have him break you over and over again.

“let yourself go, beautiful.” iwaizumi’s voice is haunting, determined to coax you into melting away. he wants you all tucked out and fucked in his arms, and your mind blanks every time you feel his cock ram into you with that much more force. your body lurches and shakes on the massage table, letting out loud gasps every time his dick plunges into you.

“so good-!” you throw your head back, hands clawing at the sides of the table. “oh- god, fuck, fuck- fuuuuuck, you’re going to make a mess out of my pussy…!”

“haven’t i already?” iwaizumi lightly quips back. “you wouldn’t feel the need to visit me this much if i hadn’t.”

“more- more-,” you pant. your thighs quiver around his waist, locking around his body and trying to force him in further. you should know better than to trust him this much, especially when he’s fucking into you raw, but all your sex-crazed mind can think about in that very moment is having more of his cock inside of you. “ruin me, iwaizumi! break me even more!”

iwaizumi?

he furrows his brows, and his hands move from your hips to grab at your thighs. before you can look up at him, he’s forcing your legs apart and pinning them down to the table, spreading your cunt out wider and fucking into you harder.

you immediately squeal and try to flail underneath him, the new angle and depth instantly scrambling up your insides. but iwaizumi’s grip on you is tight, and he holds you in that half-mating press-half-standing position as he drills his dick as deep as he can into you.

“i thought i told you not to call me that.” his dark eyes lock with yours, and your breath hitches in the back of your throat when you see how feral he looks. something unhinged and uncontrollable swirls behind his all-too-strained composure, and with how aggressively he’s pounding into you all of the sudden, you must have done something to him. “didn’t i tell you to quit using my last name?”

you’re fucked. you know deep down you are. with how iwaizumi’s ruthlessly angling his cock, making it feel like his cockhead is slamming right up against your womb, you can’t do anything other than letting him do as he wants. and god, does it feel good to let him have his way with you.

“i’m sorry-!” you splutter out. you sound absolutely pathetic, your words starting to slur and rise in pitch. he’s perfected the art of breaking you apart piece by piece, and the wet noises of his cock rearranging your guts makes you only feel wetter and even more aroused. it’s too much, the way he’s stretching you out and teasing your sweet spots. “n-not too rough-! if you keep moving like that, i’ll cum…!”

“isn’t that what you want though? isn’t that the reason why you came to visit me? because that cunt of yours couldn’t feel good on its own?” his nails burrow into the soft flesh of your hips, and you moan out. everything hurts. everything feels too good. everything makes your body feel like it's been lit on fire and left to burn. “c’mon, sweetheart. i’m only here to do as you want me to. it’s not my fault if you can’t listen to my instructions. i’m going to make you cum all over my cock, break that cute pussy of yours with how good my cock is, and make sure you come back here begging and drooling for my dick every time you even so much as think about getting horny.”

the tension mounting inside of you is too much. you can barely think straight, too focused on iwaizumi pounding into you like a bull in heat. his balls slap against your ass, reminding you that you’re completely at this man’s mercy. you want to beg properly, grovel and whine underneath him to be nicer to you, but the way your hole desperately inhales his length betrays your rational intentions.

“i’m sorry- i’m sorry- i’ll be good-,” you promise. you’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for or what you’re promising to behave for, but the last thing you want to do is get on iwaizumi’s bad side. this is the only time he ever acts like this, acts so selfishly that it turns you on to the point where you think you’re about to enter cardiac arrest. you can’t help as much as he can’t: his cock feels perfect inside of you, like it was made for the sole purpose of pleasuring you and filling you up. “i can’t control myself…! feels like i’m going crazy-”

“yeah?” he pistons his hips into you, and the onslaught makes your vision go blank. “gonna lose yourself like that over my dick? over your masseur’s cock?”

“yes! yes, yes, yesyesyes-,” you breathe. “never had anything like your cock before- your cock is the best!”

“stroking my ego now, huh?” he chuckles. the pressure in your stomach won’t let up, but you feel your orgasm tingling around your senses. dangerously, slowly, like a snake slithering in the grass—even when he’s being brutish, iwaizumi’s movements are controlled and calculated. he’s only doing this to make you feel good, to find a way to maximize your pleasure, so that you turn into nothing more than a shell of a person.

“please-,” you weakly blurt out. “‘m so close- so close to cumming… need just a little more! don’t tease me this much- i can’t do this anymore…!”

“you know what to do.” what iwaizumi wouldn’t give to reach over and hold you in his strong arms. to kiss you while you fall apart, tongues sloppily intertwining with one another as he mouth-fucks you while you cum all over his length. he’d touch you better than any lover could, pleasure you like you’re his partner. but he keeps his place, putting more force into his thrusts so that you shudder and thrash around futilely under his touches.

it’s not right for him to want this or to demand this from you, but iwaizumi doesn’t care. you trust him, honestly more than you ever really should, and he wants to believe that maybe somewhere in your heart, you want this as much as he does.

“say my name,” he demands. “just like how i told you to in the beginning. say my name, and then i’ll let you cum.”

you’re desperate. your stomach warps and wrings itself out of need, and you don’t even have the consciousness to think about whether or not this is appropriate. all you care about is cumming and cumming all over iwaizumi’s faithful cock.

“haji!” his name feels right on your tongue. it tastes sweet, like the syllables were made for you to moan out. “hajime, please! let me cum!”

that’s all he needs. everything about you feels lethal. your pleading eyes, body spread out all for him as you take his cock, pretty voice calling out his name like he’s always dreamt you would. he knows he’s going to be jerking himself off to this moment for months, hearing your voice echoing around his ears like the call of a dedicated girlfriend rather than a client.

“fuck- fuck!” iwaizumi grunts. you shriek when he buries himself deep into you, cock brutally stretching out your cunt as he stuffs his entire length into your pussy. “take it! take it all…!”

he cums inside of you, spilling all he has into your fucked out hole. you feel his dick twitch and pulse before something hot floods your insides. it scalds you, and you arch your back at the sudden feeling before you’re cumming all over him too.

that’s so dirty. your pussy drools and clamps up all over his dick, milking him with all its got. iwaizumi’s made you cum plenty of times before, but this is the first time you’ve ever came from being creampied. it’s lewd, so ridiculously lewd, that it fills you with equal parts shame and pleasure.

how far the mighty have fallen.

your cunt flutters around him, and he groans, thrusting through his high. your head feels numb, and your senses nearly give out on you. your breathing turns shaky as you practically convulse underneath him, pussy overwhelmed with the mind blowing sensation of your second orgasm being forced out of you. you already felt stuffed full just from his cock, but having his cum rush into you makes it feel like you’re being bred pregnant by him.

the thought makes your heart skip a beat. it’s horrid, but you can’t deny the fact that it tempts you.

you don’t realize he’s pulled himself out of you until you feel his semen leaking out of your abused hole. iwaizumi takes a step back before almost collapsing against the wall, inhaling desperately as his hawk-like eyes never leave your form. there’s something possessive about the way he looks at his pearly cum oozing out of your cunt, and as much as it fills your face with heat, you don’t have it in you to close your legs just yet.

even through the haziness of your climax, you can’t help but think about how pitiful both of you are. separated by the wall called professionalism, you wonder if these fleeting moments of understanding are about as close as you’ll ever get with being honest with him. or at the very least, letting your heart speak for itself.

…

“how much do i owe you for today?” you pull your coat closer to yourself, gripping your wallet in his hands. iwaizumi doesn’t look up from the cash register, but he waves his hand and dismisses you.

“don’t worry about it. i don’t mind letting you have today’s session on the house.” he pauses slightly before he glances up. the awkward silence between the two of you is both tragic and heartwarming, and you quietly pocket your wallet.

“are you sure? i don’t mind paying. i’m your client,” you offer meekly, only to be met with his adamant refusal.

the story always begins, ends, and repeats the same.

you shuffle here, craving iwaizumi’s touch. he has his way with you, lets you have your fun, before you pay and disappear before he can ever do anything more. that’s all it should be and all it was ever supposed to be. he wonders when that line became blurred and at what point that he began wishing that the obvious ending would change.

there would come a day when you find someone, a man that you could love without all of these scary unknowns. maybe then you’d be satisfied and no longer find the need to visit him, and he’d be left here, alone in the massage parlor without the thought of you to keep him company. maybe he’d yearn for years on end, praying that you’d miraculously walk through the doors one day to see him again.

but good things don’t come as easily to men like him.

you smile and lean over to place your hand on top of his, breaking him out of his thoughts. “thank you, then. you really didn’t have to do that.”

“will i see you again soon?” he asks. even under the guise of politeness, his emotions betray him. and as for you—you swore that you’d stop coming back, that you’d quit being so dependent on iwaizumi for your sexual needs.

but how can you say no when he asks you so directly?

you nod. “yeah. i promise to be back soon. you’ll be here for me then, hajime?”

his answer is what you expect. “always.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #iwaizumi hajime #x reader #fem reader #my writing

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thesupremecatmaster · 1 year

Text

Not Without You | Chapter One

Summary - You were on a mission when it went haywire. You were injured and when you made it back to base, your favorite teammate was nowhere to be seen.

Relationship - Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count - 1,276

Warnings - Minor descriptions of violence and injuries

A/N - This is the first fan fiction I've written, Mr. Ghost has just had that effect on me I guess. Thank you to @poopypantilonies for helping me along through the writing process so far.

Link to ao3

I do not own any Modern Warfare characters.

------------------------

“Bravo 0-3, what’s your teams status?” you hear through your headset. It’s the leader of Alpha team. It’s Commander Price. You’re currently in Mexico on a rescue mission to save the Secretary of Defense John P. Palcon from Hassan, and you just watched a missile head exactly to where your team was. The three men under your command were gone in an instant and you were lucky to be far enough away to only receive the throwback.

“All of my soldiers are down, sir,” you speak into comms drearily, the ringing in your ears yet to die down.

“And what’s your status?”, he said. Fuck. What did he say? You can’t focus on a goddamn thing, your head hurts. Hell, your everything hurts.

He was practically yelling your last name into the comms now, “How copy?!”

You’re try to get a hold onto your surroundings, but everything’s coming up fuzzy. Your vision is dimming. Your last name is the last thing you hear.

When you finally came to after god knows how long, you could see a helicopter in the distance and were moving towards it. You weren’t walking though, not in your condition. It was Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley who had you in a fireman’s carry.

“Wh…what happened?” you quietly spoke as you tried to lift your head to view more of your surroundings.

Captain John Price sped up his walk so that he was in your field of view, “Finally awake, eh? We had heard the explosion from the other side of the compound,” he yelled over the loudening sound of the helicopters blades, “We made our way over and saw you laying on the ground unconscious.”

“Save your energy, kid, you’ll need it for the ride home.” you heard Ghost say. As you gained full conscious, you also became fully aware of just how much everything hurt. Your head, joints, and muscles were all screaming at you.

You felt Ghost put you down on a cot inside the helicopter. It might just be better to sleep for now and get details later.

You woke up once more, this time in a bed. With one scan of the room, it was obvious that you were at a treatment facility. Only odd thing about the room was the huge figure sitting in the corner of the room. They hadn’t noticed you were awake. Who was it?

You blinked a few times, heart beginning to swell as it took more and more resemblance of Ghost. You sat up rather quickly, causing pain to shoot through your torso, but you had to know. You rubbed your eyes hoping to get a better view of him. Only to find it wasn’t him. It was a nurse who had come in to check your vitals. Noticing you were awake finally she spoke, “Good evening! How are you feeling? Any nausea?”

Disappointment made its way into your mind. You slowly shook your head as you looked to the door, “No. No nausea.”

The nurse followed your gaze, then looked back at you. “Well, you’re probably still exhausted from what you went through. Please get more rest and call if you need anything.”

You gave her a gentle smile and watched as she left the room. You turned back to the corner you thought he was in. You laid back down and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would take over before your tears could surface.

The next day, you could barely eat anything. Your stomach seemed to be in knots, you were at an all time low. In the afternoon, Sergeant John “Soap” Mactavish visited you.

“How’re you feeling lass? You took quite the injury back there,” he sounded worried for you.

You gave him your best smile as a hope of some reassurance, “Feeling a lot better than I did in field,” your attention turned to your IV drip, “They probably have me on some strong shit.”

He chuckled as he pulled up a chair next to your bed, “Well whatever they have you on hopefully, it’ll get you back to good as new in no time.”

Hearing that, you decided to give him a scare and make a move to get out of bed, but his hand was quickly placed on your shoulder to keep you down, he looked taken aback. You let out a laugh and said, “What? You said I’d be good as new in no time.”

He laughed with you before sitting back down in his chair.

You always liked Soap. He was a good person to have by your side, you sure as hell wouldn’t want him on the enemy side. “You guys miss me yet?”

He looked down at his hands, “Everyone does.”

Your mind instantly went to Ghost. You liked him the most out of everyone on task force 141. He was a good friend and an even better soldier.

After hearing only the blowing AC, you decided to speak, “How has everyone been?”

“They’ve been doing as well as they could be, we managed to rescue Palcon, but couldn’t get Hassan,” he looked you in the eyes now, “They’re making a new plan for a few months from now.”

“Hopefully I’ll be good to go by then.”You looked out your window, all you could see was sky. “What about Ghost?”

Soap pursed his lips before saying, “He’s been distant, not talking much unless he’s spoken to,” he chuckled, “Which isn’t too out of the ordinary for him, but it’s different now.”

Soap had left after an hour or two of you two talking about various things, not just the mission. He figured it was best to keep your mind off of what happened and what you witnessed.

It had been a week since the incident, you had suffered a concussion and a few broken ribs along with some minor burns that would definitely not scar, at least according to the doctor. Your thoughts often wandered to Ghost. You didn’t have much to do other than think or mindlessly watch the shitty television in your room.

Why had he not visited you? Everyone else has, even Laswell.

You pushed him out of your mind. Maybe he only thought of you as a squadmate and nothing more. Maybe he didn’t feel close to you like you did with him.

You took a huge breath of fresh air, freedom from that stuffy room at last. A smile spread across your face as you picked up your bag with a small wince. A car was pulling around to pick you up and take you back to base. Of course, it was soap who was saddled with this duty. He got out and hurried to grab your bags, throwing them in the back of the car. It wasn’t a long drive back to base. You climbed into the passenger seat and looked out of the window as Soap got back in and the hospital left your view.

Around 20 minutes later, you were asked for your ID at the gate and soon after you pulled into the base, you saw the rest of your team.

Price and Gaz were standing on the edge of the sidewalk waiting for the car to pull up, while there was a tall masked figured looming distantly behind them. When you stepped out, Gaz instantly gave you a hug as gently as he could. There was still a slight throbbing in your side. You shook hands with Price when your gaze turned to where Ghost had been. Your eyes met for a moment before he took a step back and left.

You wondered how long it would be like this.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader

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writergirl35 · 5 months

Text

Whatever You Want Part 3

Liam Mairi X Female Reader

Summary: You and Liam have a friends with benefits thing going. But will your fear or falling for him split you up?

Warning(s): Illusions to smut, minor angst, female reader, use of y/n, y/l/n

“Y/l/n,” He commands, strutting into the center of the room. “You and Mairi on the mat now.” Oh fuck. You look between Rhi and Violet, hoping one of them will save you. They both respond with knowing smirks as Violet places her palm between your shoulder blades and propels you forward. You approach the mat as Liam does, fighting wildly to calm your racing heart. You and Liam move together, in the delicate dance that starts a sparring match. He lunges, and you sidestep, landing a hard punch to his ribs. It doesn’t faze him and he turns. Liam may be stronger than you, but you’re faster. Rushing forward, you leap, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you use the momentum of your body to swing around his shoulders and wrap your legs around his neck. You clench your thigh muscles together, cutting off the air to his lungs. His hands scramble to find purchase on your legs, landing on your waist, using all of his strength to lift you up and over his head, he slams you onto the mat. He’s on top of you in an instant. Pinning your hips with his as he restrains you by lifting your hands over your head and nailing them to the mat. You kick out, attempting to loosen his hold on you. His ocean eyes meet yours and time stops. Gods you missed him. The feel of his body on yours, the way his touch lights your nerves on fire, bringing a hunger that only he can satisfy. “Y/l/n?” Liam asks, loosening his grip. Your expression must have gone blank, lost in your thoughts. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, concern swimming in his gaze. All your willpower to fight this is gone. You want this. You want him. More than just to satisfy your hunger that pools between your legs. You want to know what he’s thinking, and how he’s feeling, you want all of him. “I was just thinking about the last time we were like this.” You smirk as his gaze heats, and you feel his entire body tense. It doesn’t matter if everyone is watching. It doesn’t matter that everyone can probably hear what you’re saying. It’s only the two of you right now. You lift your head to whisper to him. “It was right after you did that thing with your tongue,” You continue, goading, waiting for that spark to ignite him. “Fuck,” Liam curses as you feel him grow hard against you. You use his moment of distraction to your advantage. Hooking your legs under his, you roll, flipping the two of you. Liam lays breathless under you as his hands come to rest on the back of your thighs. Everything you feel, desire, and need, is reflected in his eyes. He wants this too. “And I think about this-” Liam grins, allowing his hands to travel up your thighs to your ass. “Every. Damn. Day.” You lean forward, ready to kiss him. To claim his as yours. Yours in every way. “Mairi! Y/l/n!” Xaden’s demanding voice brings you back to reality. “Fight now, flirt later.” You can’t stop your cheeks from heating as you stand, offering your hand to Liam. He takes it and you haul him to his feet. You begin to turn away, your body humming with excitement when he tugs your hand and pulls you into him. “Come over tonight?” he hums as his thumb and forefinger tilt your chin upwards. “Yes.” You whisper, breathlessly. Liam releases his hold and you turn to leave. A large hand smacks your ass playfully as you walk away. Through a grin you shout over your shoulder, “I’ll get you back for that Mairi!”

“Looking forward to it!” He calls after you.

Later that evening

You’re barely through the door of Liam’s bedroom before his hands are on you. His large frame engulfs you and presses you against the hard door. “Liam-” you’re cut off as his lips find yours. The familiar fire awakens in you and your lips meet in the perfect collision. Gods he knows how to kiss. His lips slot over yours as his tongue glides against your lower lip. You moan in response, allowing his access. Your tongue meets his with enthusiasm. You’re a mess of tongues, teeth, and hands tangles in your hair. “Liam-” you try again but stop as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Liam!” you gasp as he pops open the top button of your pants. He looks up at you with those sapphire eyes. “Yes?” he murmurs against the skin of your stomach. His focus once again shifts to the buttons of your pants. “Liam,” you grasp his chin to make him look at you. Concern and apprehension flash through his eyes. “Before we start this again,” you gesture between you before he stands again. “I wanted to tell you,” you inhale sharply. Words. You need words. But what do you say? How do you say it? Liam’s hands find your body again. This time in your hair as he unties the band that holds your braid. His fingers sweep through your hair as he unweaves the braid, allowing your hair to fall around your shoulders. “Whatever it is,” Liam sighs, running his thumb across your cheek. “It’s yours. Whatever you want, you have it.” You smile. This is Liam. Your Liam. The Liam who flirted his way into your bed and charmed his way into your heart. The Liam who always makes you laugh, who watches your back, who brings you to orgasm too many times to count. “I love you.” You say as you place your hand over his heart. That beautiful heart. A smile splits his handsome face. “Really?” He asks, grinning like a fool. You chuckle and roll your eyes. “Yes, really,” you answer. He presses forward, kissing you once again. There’s something different about this. All the kisses you’ve shared with Liam have been incredible, but this? This is a whole other level. It’s new and exciting, all the feelings you have for each other are in this kiss. You taste the love on his lips. Liam sweeps you into his embrace, picking you up and walking you over to his bed. Dropping you down onto the black bedding, Liam attacks your neck, kissing, sucking, biting along the column of your throat. “I love you too.” He smirks against the skin of your breast as your breath stops at his words. “Really?” you mimic his reply from moments ago. He smiles, mischief and lust gleaming in his eyes. “Really, and,” he bites softly into the flesh of your collarbone before licking over the mark, “I’m about to prove it to you.”

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mudsock-nicdicks-wife · 1 year

Note

Could you maybe write about the Gorillaz Members comforting the reader because they're on their period?

yes i can totally do that :D

Gorillaz x AFAB Reader Comfort <3

Murdoc F. Niccals

•Surprisingly, he is such a sweetheart about comforting you during this time.

•As soon as he sees the signs, he puts towels down in his Winniebago and almost forces you into resting.

•Everything you could possibly need or want is always next to you, if it's not, Murdoc is jumping up to get it for you.

•He absolutely will not fall asleep next to you with clothes on.

•If you get cramps, he's more than happy to help. He read somewhere that sex helps with cramps, so if you're down, he has never been afraid of blood.

•Murdoc acts almost as if you are too fragile for you to do anything.

•For example, he will literally begin to bathe and feed you.

•Tones down the arguments as much as he possibly can, he knows it's not a fun week for you and he wants to make it as bearable as possible.

Stuart '2D' Pot

•Super sweet about it.

•Anything you want, or he thinks you would want, is on your bedside table within a few moments.

•Cramps? You're in luck. Stu has a wide variety of painkillers.

•During this time, he likes to refer to you as his 'little juice box'.

•His favorite activity to do with you during this week is to watch zombie films while cuddling.

•He will pull out all of his heated blankets just for you.

•If everything gets to loud at Kong, he's more than happy to take you to a nearby hotel so you can rest.

Russel Hobbs

•You are always his top priority, but when it comes to this week, you're his only priority.

•He is constantly checking in on you, making sure you're okay and not in any pain or discomfort.

•If you get cramps, he's next to you in an instant, softly rubbing circles on your abdomen.

•Breakfast will be served in bed all week, however, every other meal he wants you to get out of bed for.

•At the start of the week, he asks you what you need and want so he doesn't have to go on late night runs to the store.

•He's more than happy to go to the store at any moment for you though.

Noodle

•Your periods tend to sync.

•Which means, cuddling in bed, holding each other while crying because of your pains.

•She will ask her band mates to get anything you two could possibly need, oh and a mountain of chocolate.

•She will fake cry if Katsu lays on you and not her.

•So many kisses during this time, she knows it's hard for the both of you.

•Always makes sure you're hydrated and eating well, especially during this week.

Ace Copular

•He's not grossed out, just confused.

•Bleeding for that long without dying shouldn't be physically possible.

•He may not understand it but he's more than willing to help you though it.

•He will run you hot baths and put candles all around it, he might even put some rose petals in the water.

•He makes sure you feel loved.

•If you ask for something, he's gone, and he's not coming back until he has exactly what you asked for.

•He gets scared when you get cramps, he still only has the bare minimum of knowledge, and seeing you toss and turn in pain freaks him out.

AN: More requests are coming out, again, I just tend to get headcanons out faster. Love you all and thanks for being patient with me <3

#gorillaz #murdoc niccals #2d gorillaz #stuart pot #noodle gorillaz #russel hobbs #ace copular #murdoc niccals x reader #2d x reader #noodle x reader #russel hobbs x reader #ace copular x reader #gorillaz headcanons #comfort #gorillaz x reader

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iamthecomet · 1 year

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mommet- i uh i need your input

would you agree that rain is a cum slut? the he would beg for anyone’s cum? everyone, fuck even all of them at the same time? he wouldn’t care how many times he’s been made to cum, nono he isn’t finished until he’s full and fucked out, right?

this is definitely me begging for a cumslut rain ficlet:)

Rosey. ROSEY.

Of course, Rain is a cumslut.

I have evidence under the cut.

Rain isn't usually this insatiable. Most of the time he's like any self-respecting ghoul, cumming once or maybe twice in a good session and then curling up next to his partner, satiated and blissful. But then, there are days like this. He feels the urge building sometime around lunch. It's a dull itch under his skin. Worming into his brain, tugging at some strange base instinct he doesn't care to try to decipher. He knows what it is by now. If he ignores it long enough he'll get snappy, frustrated. He will be hot and uncomfortable and wound so tight he can barely think. And why put himself through that with the solution is an easy one.

He needs to be fucked into the floorboards. He needs to be fucked until he can't think anymore.

He makes it until after dinner. By then he can feel the heat of aggravation digging at his brain stem. He needs it. God he needs it and he hates asking for it.

The begging later is easy, when his brain has gone mushy and soft. But in the beginning? The proposition? It feels impossible. Embarrassing.

Swiss, Aether, and Mountain are all on the couch, not an inch of room to spare between them. So, Dew, naturally, is lounging across them, feet in Aether's lap, head in Swiss'.

The second Rain steps through the door they all look up at him. He swears he can see the second his scent hits them. Dew's eyes go wide. He watches Mountain's pupils dilate. Aether's hands clench on Dew's hip.

Swiss chuckles darkly.

"Oh, Raincloud," Swiss purrs, predatory already. "Do you need something?"

Rain blushes dark. He hates the way his body betrays him. How strong the scent of his arousal is. He's been hard and leaking on and off for most of the day, slick, and hot, and on edge.

The way they're looking at him tells him exactly how bad it is.

"I--" Rain thinks about denying it, god it's embarrassing to be stared at like this. But what good is that going to do? He knows what he needs. He looks at the four of them, all of them watching him with unmasked hunger. "Ruin me."

They're on him in an instant. Dew's the first one to launch himself at him, pressing the hot span of his body against Rain's and dragging him down into a kiss that tastes like tobacco and cinnamon. Mountain presses up against his back, big hands on his waist, to hold him in place while Mountain grinds up against him. He doesn't know which one of them drags him to the ground. He doesn't resist the pull of their hands. And before he knows it, they're all on their knees. Swiss is in front of him, while Dew and Mountain are behind, making quick work of Rain's clothes. Someone shoves Rain forward onto his hands so he's eye to eye with Swiss' tented zipper.

Aether drops into the chair in the corner. Rain looks over at him, a whine building in his chest.

No, he needs all of them. He needs everything they can give him. He reaches out to Aether, eyes widening, something like panic starting to crawl up his throat. Aether pauses undoing his pants. He offers Rain a gentle smile.

"Don't worry, Raincloud. I'll take my turn, I'm just going to get them get you warmed up for me. You know I like to go last."

Rain watches as Aether pulls his cock from the confines of his pants, already half-hard. He strokes it to full hardness and Rain's mouth waters.

"Hey," Swiss snaps, punctuating it with a tap of his cock against Rain's cheek. "Me first."

"Greedy," Dew says from somewhere on Rain's left. Rain just catches the way Swiss grins at Dew before his cock his shoved past Rain's lips and deep into his mouth.

He loses himself in it for a while, the heavy weight of Swiss' cock on his tongue, the blunt head of it pressing into his throat. The salty spice of his precum as it pools in Rain's mouth.

He goes offline so quickly. He'd be embarrassed about that too if he had any functional brain cells left. Instead he misses the moment that Dew and Mountain drag his pants from his legs. He cooperates as they move him, stripping him naked. But he's barely aware of it, focused single-handedly on the task at hand--getting Swiss to cum in his mouth as quickly as possible. Rain isn't always so eager to be used. But there is something about being owned, being used, that turns his usually overactive brain to jelly. He doesn't have to think.

As soon as Dew slides into him to the hilt, rocking him further forward on Swiss' cock, Rain stops thinking about anything except the pleasure. It's a push and pull. Swiss digs his fingers into Rain's curls. Dew presses bruises into his hip. Mountain closes his fist around Rain's slick cock. Everything goes offline. Pleasure sparks fast through his gut.

His first orgasm comes in record time. The twitch and clench of his body set Swiss--and then Dew off in rapid succession. After that, he starts to lose track. Mountain doesn't stop stroking him, his pace slow, almost gentle, but enough to send him hurtling into overstimulation. At some point, everyone switches positions. It's suddenly Swiss' hand jerking him off, and Mountain's cock buried inside of him.

Dew bends down for another kiss, tasting Swiss on his tongue. At some point, somewhere past the third orgasm, Rain starts begging. Swiss is behind him now, jackhammering into him, hitting his prostate with each pinpointed thrust. Aether's still watching, one hand on his balls, the other twisting up around the ruddy head of his cock. Fucking up into his fist in time with Swiss' thrusts. He doesn't register his own words, but he knows what he's asking for. He's asking for all of them to cum inside of him. To coat him with it. To stretch him out. To make him forget his own name. To fuck him senseless. To ruin him. Aether grins at him from his spot in the chair. He releases his grip on his cock, and moves to stand, just as Swiss' rhythm starts to falter, and Dew drags another almost painful orgasm from Rain's overtaxed body. "Don't worry, Raincloud," Aether says. "When I'm done with you, you won't walk right for a week."

#comet writes #ficlet #Rain/Aether/Mountain/Dewdrop/Swiss #Rain/Everyone #Rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss army ghoul #aether ghoul #mountain ghoul #ghost fan fic #the band ghost fan fiction #ghost fic #ghost fan fiction #nameless ghoul fan fiction #unedited

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blackjackkent · 4 months

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There are too many of them. Karlach has been through many battles, many wars. She can see the way the odds are turned. Balthazar, who would be a powerful foe even in his own right, backed up by almost twenty undead, each of them brought to life with only one course - destruction.

And almost immediately, everything goes bad.

Almost before they have time to blink, Hector is staggered - a burst of corrupting necromantic energy slams into him out of Balthazar's fingers. Karlach can see the pain rocket through him as he is knocked to his knees.

"Gods!" he cries out, and the agony in his voice tears at her heart. "My Lady...help us...please..."

But there is no answer. Even if the Moonmaiden is watching them, she has no power here in this land of dark.

Karlach finds herself moving entirely on instinct, lashing out in all directions as the undead begin to close around them. Higher up she can hear Gale and Shadowheart shouting spells, trying to knock back the tide of horror. But each chink in the oncoming wall lasts only momentarily, and then Balthazar's endless legions are back on the attack again.

Can we win this? Is it even possible? Is this the end, after everything?

The rage is coursing through her, each strike landing true, and she holds onto some hope, some certainty that perhaps they might do the impossible yet again...

And then Hector goes down.

"No!" Her scream is muffled in the noise of battle all around them. "Damn it, soldier-- get up!"

She isn't sure what hit him. One of the large skeletons, most likely, which is bearing down on him with its deaths-head grin, an enormous blade clenched in one hand. She staggers backwards, stands over his body - a furious lioness crouching over her fallen mate, all rage and love and terror.

But gods, gods...they are still coming.

And she can't fight them all, not even to save him...

The crowd of undead close around her and she feels despair grip around her heart. Hector, at her feet, spasms with pain; his breath rasps in his chest, a death rattle. All the fury and rage in her does nothing to change the fact...

It can't end like this. It can't--

Her eyes drift upwards, to the platform where Gale and Shadowheart are still standing, both of them equally battered, drenched in acid from one of Balthazar's attacks. Her eyes meet Gale's, and she sees the same despair she feels reflected back at her.

His wrist flicks, a ball of flame appearing between his fingers, and he hesitates.

She understands in an instant what he means to do - and she knows that he's right. And before she can second-guess herself, before she can reflect on what it means, she lifts her voice and bellows above the hissing of the undead.

"FOR GODS' SAKE, GALE, DO IT! DO IT NOW!"

Gale's head snaps back, and then he twists his fingers in a quick burst of movement and the fireball crashes across the platform.

Karlach is no stranger to the heat of fire; she has burned alive every day for the last ten years. But the explosion bursts through her like a thunderclap, the concussion hurting as much as the flames, and she is knocked sideways with a cry of pain as the fireball consumes her and all the creatures around her.

As she hits the ground, she hears Hector's scream as the flames consume him, and though she does not want to see it, she turns her head and meets his eyes as he dies.

It feels as if everything has gone completely still inside her for a moment.

She knew exactly what she was doing, of course. She knew he would not survive the blast, that she herself is barely hanging on through the damage it did. They have Shadowheart, they have scrolls of revivify, they even have Withers if it comes to it... he will come back to her. He has to.

But all that knowledge pales against the true, immediate agony of seeing the life fade out of him in front of her.

"HECTOR!" she screams, and it tears at the burned muscle of her throat. She wants to drop to his side, hold him, beg his forgiveness for causing this to be done to him, but she can't. The fight isn't over, though most of the skeletal force has been decimated.

Balthazar still lives, and it is on him that her rage can expend itself.

In an explosion of movement, she leaps across the platform trailing flame off her armor and out of her hair. And for a moment she almost thinks she sees a burst of fear in the necromancer's eyes before her blade crashes through his skull.

Blood splatters around her and she swings and swings again, all the rage in her coming to bear on this one target. And she screams with grief and fury and all the pain they have all suffered and do not deserve.

It is a long time before the storm in her cools and she realizes that he is dead.

-----

She comes back to herself knelt at Hector's side, gathering him into her arms. She realizes she has been sobbing; the boiling heat of her tears sizzles on her cheeks. Gale and Shadowheart are standing at a slight distance, watching, each uncertain how to break the silence.

"I'm sorry..." she whispers, pulling his still body against her, running her fingers desperately through his hair, across the burns on his face and shoulders. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I love you... I'm sorry..."

Cautiously, Gale lays a hand on her shoulder, and flinches feeling the now-unusual heat under her armor. "I'm sorry as well," he mutters. "But you were right. It had to be done...we'd never have been able to take the upper hand otherwise."

She shakes away the attempt at a comforting touch, leans forward and presses her forehead against Hector's. Her breath comes in short, stuttering gasps.

Shadowheart steps forward now, crouches at her side. "If... you can give me a moment to prepare a spell... I'll revive him," she says uncertainly.

Karlach lifts her head and glares at the younger woman fiercely, feeling oddly defensive against anyone else's offer of help. "I'll handle it," she mutters. "You just... do what you came here to do..."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #drabble #bg3 drabble #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 fic #karlach x tav #this got completely out of hand and i'm not sorry at all :)))))#this moment played out completely by accident as i pushed through the fight and i knew i had to do something with it #then went back and recreated the moment in order to get better caps XD #also messed around with freecam for the first time although it didn't really work very well bc everything inside the flame was very blurry #but anyway everyone gather around while i obliterate myself with feels thank you

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meshlasolus · 1 year

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Come What May

Episode 1/?

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (little one)

Warnings: not much in this one, it’s kinda just easing us into the new setting tbh. Maybe mentions of slight depression, talk about the past?? Slight spice? Idek at this point.

A/n: whats up whores, i missed ya… here it is, the beginning of our new story. I wanted to just kinda jump right in off the bat with this one, so there’s not a lot of delay with the action lol

The humble abode is quiet most days, as you spend more time outside than in. The dreary dry weather of Tatooine had not yet driven you to insanity, so you preferred the outdoor setting to the small home you’d slowly been learning to love. The sand was something to work through for sure, but other than that, it wasn’t the worst place to be. You often thought about your planet of origin, the muddy slave planet Mimban, run worse and tirelessly now by the empire. The whole galaxy had changed so much in a year, you could hardly fathom it. The emperor whom sat at the helm of it all only watched with a demented satisfaction as the legendary forces grew over all corners of the galaxy, but you watched with sadness, knowing the once pure and progressive democracy had been demolished for good. Many good people had died, and you and your husband were left to pick up the pieces. Nothing could be done, no one could be saved. Nothing else matters.

He was working in a small manufacturing plant in Mos Eisley, bringing home credits that provided little luxury. You didn’t realize how much the order gave you until it was all stripped away, gone in an instant and taking everything down along for the ride.

The pain from the past was slowly dulling. It was there every morning when you woke up, and every night before you drifted off to sleep in the arms of your love, but the moments in between weren’t as hard as they used to be. This was the hand you’d been dealt, it was up to you to decide how to play them.

You meditated almost daily, before your shift in the cantina, and after you closed up shop, kicking the drunkards to the curb in order to get home in time to see Obi. He came home earlier then you, but also left very early in the morning, most times while you were still asleep. His sweet kisses to the side of your face, or on your bare shoulder before he left were always felt, even while dreaming. He was everything. Your one reason to keep going, your true lifeline.

“How was work?” You cralwed up behind him, as he was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed. He was being dragged through the ringer at his place of employment, but he didn’t think it would benefit you to know. He braved through his days, with you on his mind. You were worth the large amounts of upset he encountered daily.

“Better than yesterday,” he admitted, it was the truth. He leaned into your touch as you let your hands wander the expanse of his shoulders. He feels every movement individually, and it calms him. Your force presence has always been strong and commanding, but among all things it was calm, and it was peaceful… and it gave him hope.

“You’re warm, are you feeling okay?” You wanted to check in on him, because though you sensed he was being honest, there had to be something else he wasn’t telling you.

“This whole planet is warm, my love.”

You chuckled into his neck at his response, and shook your head.

“I mean you seem feverish, Obi,” you corrected, and he huffed. Maybe another distraction could deter you from digging deeper. He looked over his shoulder at you, barely catching your eyeline as he smirked.

“I guess that’s simply the effect you have on me,” he turned more, forcing you back from him and into the worn mattress. You knew where this was headed, and though you held no real protest, you just had to tease him.

“I have that effect on most people, don’t take it personally.”

Of course, he is unbothered by this. He nose dives into your neck, nuzzling there as he placed the most gentle kisses upon your skin. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about you having that effect on anyone else. He knows you’re his for the long run, and he isn’t even going to think about how badly you would injure anyone that ever tried anything. You’re his, and he’s yours.

Work was slow, it seemed there was far more commotion happening outside than in the cantina, which was unusual for this time of day. After work, the crowds came rambunctiously piling in to drink their misery away. You often put on the show of their lifetime just to put smiled on some of their dreary faces. You’d gotten quite good at the tricks up your sleeve, tossing drinks and flipping the mixer in the air. The force may have been a contributing factor in your newly developed skill, but your boss didn’t need to know that, or anyone else for that matter.

You knew that if another force sensitive being ever entered those walls, they would feel your signature immediately, but you never worried about it, never thinking it could be a bad thing.

The force, through all the troubles and woes it allowed you to go through, was still your center. The way of which you lived your life around. You may not be a Jedi any longer, but heck, you still acted like one. You even still wore your Padawan braid like it was the most natural thing in the world. No one ever questioned it, so why should you have to hide it away? You still believed that someday, you and Obi-Wan would have the time and be comfortable enough in your living arrangements that you could travel to a beautiful planet, where he could invoke upon you the trials himself. Even if it were never official, you’d be a knight, and could think of the title with pride.

The cantina was ablaze with wld noise for only a second as the door opened up. You recognized the patron, as she was a regular in the bar. She stumbled in, her wild curls bouncing as she shook it off and strolled up too the bar. Her youthful face was strewn together in a look worn to make her seem ten years older. You knew she couldn’t be much older than you, if she was at all.

“Boy, it’s crazy outside. Glad to see this place still intact,” She said, leaning on the countertop as you slid her the usual.

“What’s going on?” Usually you never bothered to ask about town drama, or even little altercations that may ensure. It wasn’t any of your business, and you no longer felt the need to step into citizen affairs. It didn’t concern you anymore. You were not a keeper of the peace, you’re just a bar tender.

“Imps, what else?” She rolled her eyes, slamming the drink back and setting her glass back down. You wasted no time in refilling it. She hated Imperials, you knew that. She only ever complained to you about them, and as much as the topic was. Sour one for you, you listened. No one hated the empire more than you and Obi. You both understood the people’s pain. It’s only been a year, but it’s taken so much. “And don’t get me started on those nasty new troopers. They got em’ just about everywhere, now.”

“What do you mean by everywhere?” You turned to her with a more pointed expression. You saw the ships fly in this morning on the way over, but figured it was just another routine check in. A one stop, to pass through and make sure everything was the way they wanted it to be. Now they were staying? “Peli, what do you mean by everywhere?”

She sighed, staring at her drink for a moment, and just turning the glass in her hand. Everything was going downhill, the panic of the people was setting in, and freedom was becoming something you had to earn, as decided by the Empire.

“They stationed a couple hundred around Mos Eisley this afternoon, no one has the option of turning them away. If the Empire deems your place of work necessary, it’s getting watched like a hawk,” She explained. Your face went pale, and you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to reach out through the force and feel the outside presences around you. It was so crowded, there were troopers every corner. “They even put a squad in my dad’s landing pad. I always wanted to work it someday… Probably gonna get claimed by the Imps before then.”

You tried your best to hide your sudden fear. There weren’t any troopers in here yet, there was a chance you could be overreacting over nothing.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. They’ll probably clear out soon,” you reassured with a forced smile. The young woman before you had lived here all her life, long before you ever set foot in the sand. She knew that this wasn’t just a routine check in, and that there were bigger forces at play.

“I don’t know, it seems pretty serious. People aren’t taking it well, there’s been riots all day… It’s strange,” she paused, finally taking a swig of her freshly poured drink while she pondered her words. “It’s like they’re looking for someone.”

Your blood ran cold and your gaze hardened against the counter-top. You took a deep breath in, and had to regain your sense of self before you looked up and responded, nonchalantly as possible.

“I wonder who it could be.”

“Whoever it is, they must be important for the entire town to get invaded,” she finished her drink, throwing some credits down after her glass and shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. “I gotta get back to the pad, wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Peli,” you took the credits and nodded to her, waiting until she was gone to turn your back on the door. You wait to hear the door close after she was out of it, but instead, it stayed open longer than usual, and brisk footsteps were heard coming up behind you. You turned around, keeping your guard up just incase there was a trooper, or an unwanted patron, but it was quickly let down again and replaced with a smile when you saw the familiar face. “Obi, what are you doing here? I don’t finish for another hour.”

He raised a finger to his mouth, indicating the need for silence as he scoped out the room for remaining drinkers. There weren’t many, knew figured as much. He turned back to you with an aggressive stare, pulling you by your forearm so that he could calmly whisper in your ear.

“Don’t make a scene, go get your things from the back and come right back here.”

His urgency was one you recognized, but it had not been used since the war. He pulled back and looked at you with a heavy weight in his eyes. You didn’t question him, you only nodded, and did what he said. You ‘things’ were not much, but when he said the word you knew exactly what he meant. You always carried it with you, knowing there could possibly come a time when you’d need it. Your lightsaber, concealed in a flask case that was never touched. You grabbed it off of the wall, pulling the strap over your head to lay across your body, and grabbed the jacket you’d gotten for the cold nights. You slid it on your arms and went back to Obi.

“What’s going on?” You asked under your breath, never letting your voice raise, even in the uncertainty. He was quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders, ushering you to the door as casually as possible before murmuring silently.

“We’re being hunted.”

Tags:

@cool-h-posts @honestlywtfisgoingon @fandomstanner24 @elvenrin @b0xerdancer @theatrelove3000

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #obi wan and anakin #obi wan x reader #Obi wan x little one #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x little one #Little one #HoM #hom sequel #obi wan series #obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #anakin skywalker #ewan mcgregor #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader

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