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mitsuyeaah · 1 year

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DEVIL IN DISGUISE

SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader

“he lies, he bluffs, he’s unpredictable. he is a sucker with a gun, a bad boy with a tainted heart, a villain by the devil’s law.”

cw: sugar daddy!sanzu, law student!reader, nsfw (mdni), smut, implied age gap (late twenties sanzu, early twenties reader), bdsm (gunplay, restraint, blindfold), rough unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibitionism, oral (m & f receiving, cum swallowing), alcohol use (brief), mentions of smoking, mentions of drug use, swearing, pet names (pretty girl, princess, baby), degradation

word count: 11k

a/n: my piece for The #SugarDaddyCollab event by @sleepysnk !! © divider: anlian-aishang

The loud bass of the music reverberated throughout your body, the bouncing strobe lights of the dimly lit club making it hard to navigate through, especially with the sea of sweaty bodies grinding against each other.

You adjusted the black masquerade mask that rested on your nose that partially hid the top part of your face—except your eyes—before reaching for the tray full of alcoholic beverages that were in various interesting colours.

“Oh, I’ll take those. Manager told me she wanted you to specifically serve a private VIP room today, the Golden Room. Quickly! You have to be there before our clients.” Your co-worker swiftly took the tray full of drinks, ushering you away before hastily leaving, her short figure blending in amongst the crowd of people until she was nowhere to be seen.

The Golden Room. It was the most expensive private VIP room that the club had to offer as it had its own floor at the very top of the building, overlooking the bustling nightlife of Roppongi. The private room had its exclusive DJ and mini-bar that catered to the client’s needs—and only their needs—along with a personal server, which was you for tonight.

For the past few months that you’ve been working at this club, you have never been asked to serve one of the private VIP rooms, let alone the most expensive one. You were always down at the main floor serving drinks, blending in with the huge crowd that never seemed to die down, even at early hours of the morning.

Trying to make yourself presentable, you hastily made your way to the main elevators to get to the top floor. In all honesty, you were quite nervous about this, not only was it your first time being a personal server, but it was also because you knew that the clients had money, a lot of money, so you couldn’t afford to be fucking up your job any time soon.

After passing all the other floors in the building, the elevator dinged and its doors slid open to reveal an exquisite room, as expected. You finally knew why it was called the Golden Room, this private space had accents of gold everywhere, from the chandelier down to its marbled floor, it also housed a spacious balcony that overlooked the teeming city down below, this section of the club was so high up that you swore you could almost reach the dark clouds above.

Thankfully, the said clients still weren’t there which gave you ample amounts of time to calm yourself down and be at your best behaviour, you couldn’t afford to lose this job due to a simple mistake.

There were only three people in the room at the moment, you, the bartender who already worked on drinks, and the DJ who was busy fiddling with his controllers, music already coming out of the speakers.

You stood by the mini-bar, waiting for the patrons to walk in so you could warmly welcome them.

The elevator door dinged, revealing a lone man standing inside it. He was fairly tall, rosy pink hair that ended in a long mullet, noticeable scars on either corners of his lips, and deep turquoise eyes that complimented his prominent thick lashes.

The man strutted in, sporting a striped navy blue three-piece suit and a white button up, your eyes followed him as he sat in the middle of the long leather couch that rested against the wall, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on the backrest, his aquamarine gaze already on you.

That’s it? That’s our client? Just him? Questions ran through your mind as no other person walked out from the elevator, just the pink-haired man, all alone.

You realised he must’ve had a shit ton of money to be booking the most extravagant room that this club had to offer, all for himself. Goddamn, rich people really are something else, you thought.

It was awkward.

The pink-haired man stared at you and didn’t even bother hiding it, you felt small under his intense gaze, also making you conscious about the black strapless latex top you were wearing. You shifted uncomfortably, he was still staring at you but that was when you remembered you completely forgot to greet him.

Oh shit. You were too distracted admiring the patron.

Your eyes widened a bit at the realisation, embarrassment slowly engulfing your body as you tried to take long confident strides toward the man, black thigh high boots clicking against the gold-accented marbled floor with every step you took. You plastered a warm smile, standing in front of the patron before introducing yourself and warmly welcoming him.

Well done, already fucking up the job, you thought, but the turquoise-eyed man let out a small chuckle, his voice deep but smooth like velvet, “Aren’t you cute?” He tilted his head to the side, a small smirk forming upon his pink lips. It was a bit hard not to stare at the scar that decorated his face, but you tried your best not to shift your gaze downward, not even the slightest bit.

You let out a shy laugh, “Thank you, I’ll be your personal server for tonight. If you need anything, I’ll be over there, at the mini-bar.” You couldn’t care less about his little compliment, you’ve heard the varieties of it, coming from different types of men that you had previously served.

It was common sense to expect some customers—if not all—to act this way toward the servers, and it honestly sickened you how some men could think that it was okay to talk to women like this. Yes, you and your co-workers were employees of a club but that didn’t give them the liberty to say and do anything they wanted.

After all, you guys were just trying to make a living. The least customers could do was extend their respect to mere club employees.

As you walked back to the mini-bar, you swore you could feel his burning gaze on you but you shook it off and ignored it, after all, he was just like any other man you’ve interacted with in this club.

“Whiskey, on the rocks.” He signalled the bartender behind you before pulling something out from his pocket, you didn’t know what it was but he was writing something, not that you cared.

Shortly after, the bartender set a lowball glass on the tray, the translucent coppery liquid modestly filling the glass, complemented with ice. You grabbed the tray and made your way over to the man situated on the sofa, neatly setting the cold drink before him.

“Sanzu.” The rosy-haired man spoke up from where he sat, pocketing whatever he was writing on and leaned forward to reach for the drink, “Hm?” You blinked at him, unsure what to reply, eyes wide and giving him a curious look

“Name ‘s Sanzu.” “Oh, alrigh—” “Why don’t you come hang out with me a little, hm?” Sanzu cut you off, an expectant look forming in his pretty aquamarine eyes. You awkwardly looked around as if there was someone you could ask for permission, but nonetheless, you hesitantly made your way over to him.

You sat next to him, knees touching together and arms neatly folded on your lap as if you were getting a formal photograph taken. There was ample room between the two of you, although it looked awkward, you decided it would be more awkward if you had sat next to Sanzu so closely, given the fact that you didn’t even know this man and he was a patron.

“I’m not really sure if this is professional. It’s protocol that I am not to sit with any pat—” “It’s completely fine, I personally know the people who own this club.” Sanzu slung one arm on the back rest while the other held the whiskey, bringing it up to his lips.

All you could do was nod, clearly, there was nothing else you could argue about.

Sanzu set the empty glass on the table and shifted his whole body to face you, “Tell me… what’s a pretty girl like you working at a club like this? That glint in your eyes screams innocence.” He lifted the slender hand that rested on the backrest and brought it up to your black mask, tracing each intricate design that decorated it.

His hand ventured further to one side of your face, reaching for the satin bow behind your head that secured the mask, his slender fingers tangling with the loops of the bow before pulling at the loose end, causing your mask to fall on your lap.

How exquisite. Sanzu keenly tilted his head to the side, turquoise eyes brimming with such interest.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” A saccharine smile formed on his scarred lips. You snapped out of your trance, blinking up at him, “Oh, uh, ‘m just here to pay my bills and student loan…” you whispered, a bit embarrassed.

“Oh? And does this club pay you enough to do so?”

It didn’t. Your pay was just enough to get you through each week but you were practically scraping through, most of your meals were from the convenience store and there were times where you didn’t bring any lunch to eat in between your lectures due to your financial situation. It also didn’t help the fact that the weekly allowance from your parents all went to the dorm you rented.

Your parents weren’t white-collar workers like the customers you encountered in this club, they walked with confidence, swiping their cards left and right without a care in the world. Their wrists and neck decorated with heavy and expensive accessories while also donning luxury brands from head-to-toe that were probably expensive enough to pay for at least half of—if not more than—your tuition fee.

You assumed Sanzu was a white-collar worker, seeing the way he strutted into the room earlier, like he owned it, and the way he was neatly dressed and not a single wrinkle on his expensive suit. You also noticed the shiny watch he sported on his left wrist, glimmering under the lights.

“No.” You simply answered, gaze fixed on your hands that were slowly balling into fists.

Where was this conversation even going? You thought.

Was he here to degrade and make fun of your social status? Mock you because you weren’t in the same tax bracket? Flaunt his dirty money in your face? You’ve encountered this many times with other customers, belittling your very existence because of a simple mistake you’ve made.

It never bothered you these days like it did when you first encountered it, you remember crying on the toilet as you replayed the scene of a customer yelling harsh words at you, it didn’t help that they were also quite intoxicated. You were used to it by now but it was tiring, you didn’t need strangers telling you left and right that you weren’t like them.

“What if I tell you I could pay you more? Much more than your job can.”

You met his gaze, brows furrowing as you were confused about what this whole conversation was about. God, was he a businessman wanting to recruit employees? If he was, then this is highly unprofessional, you thought.

“I don’t quite follow…?”

Sanzu just gave you a small chuckle before pulling something out from his pocket and handing it to you, “If you decide you’re too good for this environment, I’m just a call away.” He stood up and made his way towards the elevator, bidding goodbye to the DJ, bartender and you.

He gave you one last smile before the elevator doors shut in front of him, and just like that, Sanzu was gone.

You let out a breath you’ve been holding ever since you entered this room and looked down at the folded piece of paper on your lap. With curiosity, you opened the paper, ‘I’m just getting started’ it wrote, with his number in red ink. You were about to shove it into your pocket until you noticed another paper behind it, your eyes widened.

It was a cheque. Was this what he was writing earlier?

Haruchiyo Sanzu, it stated on the top left corner, but what shocked you the most was the amount ordered to pay you, it was clearly more than what you made in your part-time job and was enough to get you through the week, more than a week, even.

How could Sanzu just give you this much money without batting an eye? Let alone a stranger he had just met. Was he crazy? But then your mind wandered back to the sentence on the other piece of paper, ‘I’m just getting started.’ Did that indicate he was able to give you more?

Surely not.

Boy, were you wrong. You contemplated for days on end whether to call Sanzu or not, it was very tempting but what if he was just bluffing? You knew he wasn’t, you went to the bank a few days ago to check if the cheque was fake or not, and to your surprise, it wasn’t fake. It had the exact amount of money stated on it.

A few weeks had passed when you finally decided to call Sanzu’s number due to the growing desperation for financial aid, you tried your best to rely on yourself and the part-time job at the club but it just wasn’t enough, you needed more. You needed what Sanzu was offering.

You were a bit hesitant to call him since you didn’t know if his offer still stood even after quite a period of time but you were desperate, and plus, it didn’t hurt to try. If he didn’t pick up then you’d have to suck it up and find other ways to support your living, even if it meant bending your back.

To your surprise, Sanzu did pick up, rather quickly, even.

Little did you know that this call was the pivoting point of your life, where you could finally say goodbye to your old lifestyle and welcome a new one you have never experienced before.

Upon meeting up with Sanzu, he had come clean about his intentions and how he was going to provide you anything and everything you ever wanted in exchange for company and sexual favours, and nothing else. A sugar daddy. You knew the offer was too good to not involve some kind of physical factors, but it wasn’t like you were new to sex.

Yes, others might view it as dirty and disrespectful to one’s self that they would simply let an older man ask them for sexual favours in return for the lavish lifestyle, but life was never butterflies and rainbows, life was harsh and as much as you’d hate to admit it, only the richest could survive among times like this where everything was in demand and becoming more expensive.

Looking at the situation at hand, it wasn’t like you had any other choice at this point. If the luxury life was going to welcome you with open arms through a man named Haruchiyo Sanzu, then you’d willingly let it.

You sat inside Sanzu’s white Bugatti Centodieci, on the way to a dinner reservation, the low roaring of its exhaust filling your ears as it came to a smooth halt at an intersection. You’ve been in this luxury car countless times before but you’ve never gotten quite used to it because you knew how expensive this vehicle was; you’ve done your research on some of the brands Sanzu sported, one of them being this extremely flamboyant car.

Your little research told you that there were only ten of the Centodieci models around the world, and Sanzu owned one of them. Your hands couldn’t help but sweat at the thought, causing you to smooth your pleated skirt down to wipe it off, “I like your nails, princess.” Sanzu reached a hand over the console and took yours, his fingers tracing the intricate details of your jewelled stiletto nails. Rhinestones gleaming underneath the bright city lights outside.

Not only were they embedded in expensive rhinestones but some of them were covered in 24K gold foil, costing your appointment at a whopping price but Sanzu never batted an eye when he swiped his card yesterday, no hesitation whatsoever. Last week, he had asked you to choose a nail design you really liked and he would take care of booking the appointment, of course, you jumped at that opportunity.

You knew why Sanzu loved paying for your nail appointments.

“Do you want me to test them out?” You blinked up at him and took his hand into yours, sensually massaging and rubbing it as if it were something else, god, Sanzu wished it was something else. He cursed under his breath at the sensation of his blood rushing down to his cock with need, his other hand gripping the leather steering wheel a little harder, knuckles turning painfully white as you continued with your ministrations,

“You always know what I want, huh?” He let out a breathy chuckle, shifting uncomfortably in his leather seat, cock now straining against his navy dress pants and begging to be let out. Sanzu skilfully manoeuvred his vehicle, taking desperate turns left and right to find a random deserted place to park, although it didn’t really matter if there were people around or not, his vehicle was heavily tinted and he liked the thrill of getting caught.

What were they gonna do? Stop him from getting head? They could try.

The tyres of Sanzu’s vehicle loudly skidded against the rough pavement of the empty parking lot as he desperately parked his car, not even bothering to situate his vehicle in a parking space, it was already evening and no one was around anyway.

“Fuck, come here.” Sanzu groaned, reclining his seat back and pulling your face closer to his own. You leaned over the console to kiss him, knees resting on the smooth material, one arm against the window of the driver’s side for support, and the other gripping the headrest behind his head.

Sanzu craned his neck forward to meet your gloss-stained lips, one hand firmly resting on your chin to keep you in place, while the other wandered elsewhere. His kisses held desperation in them, soft pillowy lips laced with hunger as it moved against your own. The man beneath you let out short erratic breaths that tickled below your nose, occasionally letting out soft eager whines into your lips.

He was usually on the dominant side, but fuck, was he needy when it came to receiving. Not that you complained, though, it was a pretty sight to see him all wrecked and at your mercy. It was priceless to see his authoritative demeanour crumble into nothing but a pathetic whining mess that begged for his cock to be touched and sucked on, even if it rarely happened.

You slightly jerked at Sanzu’s wandering hand that found its way to your inner thigh under the dimly lit car—the only source of light coming from the warm street lights of the parking lot—, slowly massaging and rubbing unfamiliar shapes at the supple flesh and earning a small whimper from you. His hand ventured around your outer thigh and flicked your skirt up, the skimpy fabric that was once barely covering your ass, now rested on your lower back and in full view for anyone who passed by the passenger’s window.

But you weren’t worried, Sanzu’s vehicle was tinted.

A small moan escaped your swollen lips but was swallowed down during the heated kiss with Sanzu as his large hand landed a merciless slap against the fat of your ass, the sharp searing pain from the sudden skin contact spreading across your backside making you wetter, “Put those pretty hands to use, baby.” He broke the kiss, lips ghosting over your own as he panted out, desperate for air to fill his lungs.

Sanzu placed both his hands behind his head and relaxed his torso against the warm leather seat to let you do your thing, his lust-filled turquoise eyes intently following your every move.

Shuffling closer to the evident tent in his pants, you placed your palm over his crotch, roughly palming his erection, causing a deep throaty groan from Sanzu, his back involuntarily arching away from the backrest and hands flying up to the headrest behind his head, gripping on it for his dear life. His eager eyes watched the way your twinkling nails moved against his strained cock, biting his lip at the sight and heat spreading throughout his body.

He loosened the black tie around his neck and hastily unbuttoned his collar so he could breathe better. You gave him a sly smile before slowly guiding the small pull-tab down the teeth of the zipper, the car was quiet, so you could only hear the movement of the zipper and Sanzu’s soft desperate pants, his pink lips slightly parted.

With the help of his hips, you pulled his pants down along with his underwear just enough to release his throbbing cock from its confines, earning a slight hiss from the rosy pink haired man as you firmly gripped his heavy length, your rhinestone-studded nails complimenting his hard cock with your fingers wrapped around him.

Sanzu let out a loud moan as you pumped his dick up and down after spitting at it, you gripped him like a vice, wrist skilfully twisting and tugging at his cock just how he liked it. He could almost cum right then and there at the sight of your freshly manicured fingers wrapped around his length. Fuck, he loved seeing your jewellery-embedded nails around his cock.

You flattened your tongue and licked a long slow stripe up the underside of his dick, earning a loud desperate whine from Sanzu, one hand flying down to tangle into your hair to eagerly tug at it, “Fuuuuuuck…” he breathed out, his bottom lip tightly caged between his teeth as he threw his head back.

God, you never failed to give him the best head of his life, and you were just getting started.

More desperate airy whines slipped past his pink lips as you peppered his length with light kisses, his hips greedily bucking up at you, Sanzu needed more, “Ngh! Stop being such a tease and suck me off already. We have a reservation, remember—ah!” He whined, lust-filled hunger evident in his tone.

Suddenly remembering about the dinner reservation, you didn’t hesitate to put the pink head in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around the blunt tip and primarily focusing on his precum-filled slit that had Sanzu practically writhing in his seat, his face contorting with pure pleasure, back arching, and hips hungrily bucking into your mouth, causing you to hold them down,

“Haaah! That’s it, now take it all in like the good girl you are.” He moaned, breath shaky and unstable.

And so you did. Without hesitation, you slowly slid your mouth down his length while taking deep breaths through your nose just like had Sanzu taught you before. His grip on your hair tightened, earning a loud moan from you which sent vibrations down his cock, “Ohhh fuck, you’re taking me in so—ngh! So well.” You started bobbing your head up and down, taking slow experimental motions with his hard cock sliding against your throat, this caused Sanzu to buck his hips higher, eager to feel the constant friction of your mouth against him.

“Mhm, I told you to stop teasing, didn’t I?” Sanzu growled and swiftly sat up, roughly taking the black tie loosely secured around his collar. He grabbed both your hands and pinned them behind your back—just resting above your ass—, using his tie to keep them in place. The whole action caused you to lean forward, taking more of Sanzu’s cock into your mouth.

Sanzu leaned back into his seat, one hand gripping the headrest and the other going back into your hair as he thrusted his hips in and out of your mouth, “Mhm—ah! That’s more like it. I can’t keep reminding you that I’m still in control here.” He moaned. Sanzu gathered all of your hair and put it up in a make-shift ponytail with his hand, as it obstructed his view from your pretty mouth taking all of his dick.

With his hand wrapped securely around your loose hair, he started relentlessly thrusting up into your hot mouth, his other hand behind his head practically digging into the headrest which he knew was going to leave evident marks but he didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck about potentially damaging the expensive leather of his car, when you were taking him so so well.

All you could do was sit there and take it, tears uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks which surely ruined your makeup, your knees were painfully digging into the console and thighs burning from the lack of stretch but you didn’t care, all you wanted was for Sanzu to cum into your mouth.

Sanzu’s head spun as he was nearing his high, his head thrown back, lips parted, and stomach clenching from immense pleasure while he kept at his pace. His chest heaved up and down as he let out short airy desperate whines in tune with the movement of his hips, fuck, he was so close.

“I’m gonna cum—ngh! You better take all of my fuckin’ load like the good girl you are.” He thickly swallowed, his desperate whines turning into shallow erratic breathing, only a few more thrusts away before he topped over the edge.

Sanzu’s hips faltered as the rumbling coil deep in his stomach finally snapped, he threw his head back and arched his back as he cummed into your mouth, letting out a loud shameless moan that filled the entire vehicle. You moaned into his dick, feeling his hot cum roll down your throat as he firmly kept your head in place, his hips rolling into you to ride out his orgasm while gripping the headrest behind him, the tips of his fingers hurting from the constant pressure he’s been putting on it.

“Haah, yeah that’s it. Such a good girl.” Sanzu praised, letting go of your hair as you eagerly lapped up some of his cum that rolled down his dick. Before he could undo the tie that bound your wrists together, his phone loudly rang, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.

Sanzu quickly reached for his phone that was inside his blazer pocket and cleared his throat before answering it. “Yes, yes, we will be there soon. Just got held up in traffic.” He chuckled, giving you a knowing look before bidding goodbye to whoever was on the other side of the call.

“They were just confirming if we were still coming for our reservation.” Sanzu laughed as he pulled his tie from your wrists, “Held up in traffic, huh.” You raised a brow at him—throat sore from your recent activities—as you sat into your seat and fixed yourself up with the help of the sun visor mirror. Sanzu tucked himself back in and gave you a breathy chuckle, “That was the first thing that popped into my mind.”

“Also, I didn’t hurt you too much, right? Got really carried away, sorry.” He sighed as he adjusted his seat into its normal upright position, looking at you with concern.

Sanzu knew that he could get too carried away during sex which causes him to become rough and unrelentless. Of course, he had already discussed this with you and to his surprise, you were okay with it, apparently you liked it rough. You shook your head, brushing him off with a smile, “It’s okay, you were enjoying yourself back there.” You laughed, sending him a teasing look.

The man next to you shook his head as he could feel warmth creeping up his cheeks and embarrassment engulfing his body. “Nonsense.” He muttered before turning his car on to make your way to the dinner reservation.

Sanzu’s personality was such a contrast from the first time you met him back at the club, right off the bat, you thought he was a cocky and arrogant individual with the way he acted that night but as you got to know his personality better, he was a completely different person.

The facade that he had on back when you first met him was definitely gone. But was that really a front he just put up? It made you wonder.

Both of you calmly walked inside the exquisite restaurant like you weren’t just sucking him off a couple of minutes ago. Sanzu rested a palm on the low of your back as the waiter guided you to your seats, “Why the sudden fancy dinner?” You looked up at him, his aquamarine gaze meeting yours, Sanzu shrugged, a small smile forming upon his lips, “Just wanted to treat my baby, that’s all. You’ve been so good for me, might reward you more, later.” He leaned closer as he spoke the last line, a hint of slyness laced in his tone.

Maybe you could actually live in this lifestyle.

Ever since Sanzu stepped into your life, there wasn’t a day where you struggled anymore. No more sleepless nights of thinking how to get through tomorrow, no more stressing out about upcoming bills, and lastly, no more encountering drunk nasty old men at the club who sneered at your social status.

You could solely focus on your law degree now. You were getting better grades because the financial stress had been lifted from your shoulders, your mind wasn’t wandering elsewhere during lectures, trying to think of ways of how to ration your pay for the week.

There was no other possible choice for you but to take Sanzu’s offer. If you were going to take the easy way out of your financial stress, might as well do it with someone who splendidly paid you, not only with money but with gifts and mind blowing sex.

You stared at the man sitting across you, as the waiter poured Moët & Chandon MCIII into two flute glasses, the translucent yellow liquid neatly sloshing around the glass. You admired Sanzu’s features as he mindlessly tapped at his phone—work related, he said—his expression unchanging as his thumbs swiftly typed something.

It has come to your attention that you never really knew what Sanzu did for work, every time you asked him, he would just brush it off and say something along the lines of ‘just business related stuff’ and you believed him, you didn’t want to push his boundaries further but you wished he was as open to you as you were with him.

Sanzu was very secretive about his phone calls too; one time, you had seen his phone ringing on his night stand while he was in the bathroom. You were about to grab his phone and take it to him, that was until he came out of the bathroom and saw you reaching for it, he practically lunged for his phone and answered it straight away while walking out of his bedroom.

The only thing you heard from Sanzu as he answered the phone was, “Yes, boss?”. You knew this ‘boss’ was called Mikey since you had seen the caller ID while reaching for his phone. It seemed like Sanzu was working for someone in a higher position than him despite having immense wealth. Who was this Mikey, anyway?

There would also be times whenever you slept over at his penthouse, Sanzu would just disappear during ungodly hours of the morning, sometimes it would stir you awake because he always reached for his nightstand drawer—that was always locked—before he left and sometimes it would make a loud creaking sound whenever he opened it. He always tucked the item he took out from that specific drawer into his pocket.

You never knew what he took out or what other contents that drawer housed because it needed a key to be opened, a key that Sanzu always took with him. You assumed it was something heavy as he had dropped it on the rug one time, causing him to curse under his breath.

There were times where you slept alone in his bed waiting for him to come home during the night but he would never arrive, instead, he would arrive sometime in the morning, very exhausted and looked like he needed a week of sleep.

Was he being overworked? You hoped not.

You knew this relationship between you and Sanzu was just contractual and not built on any feelings but you couldn’t help feeling sorry for the man. Sometimes, when it was his day off and he wasn’t leaving during ungodly hours of the morning, you would catch him smoking out on his balcony instead, which overlooked the city down below. Sanzu would just stare off into the horizon, letting the tobacco completely fill his lungs.

He always looked so… empty.

“I have something for you later, back at home. If that's fine with you?” You were pulled from your trance by Sanzu’s voice. He tucked his phone in his blazer and gave you an expectant look. You nodded your head, “Fine by me, you don’t even have to ask.”

Sanzu was always like this, he always spoiled you. He was so unpredictable, in a good way. He always got you what you wanted and sometimes he would even go out of his way to personally pick and buy whatever he thought would suit you. This man spent money on you left and right without a care in the world, sometimes you would wake up with a big bouquet of roses that scented his entire penthouse because he ‘ felt like buying you one’ as per his words.

During the times you stayed at your dorm for the night, there would be a delivery next morning of whatever item Sanzu decided to swipe his card on, whether it be designer shoes from the most recent collection, overly priced flowers, or clothes that only catered to you, the only thing consistent was that it was expensive, it was always expensive.

You never even asked for most of the gifts he gave you but nonetheless, you were thankful for them. Although, it did overwhelm you sometimes with how much he was spending on you. One time you asked him, “What if you run out of money?” and Sanzu merely laughed at your question but answered, “Baby, I will never lose money. I can guarantee you that.” There was something odd about his tone when he said that but you brushed it off.

Back at his penthouse, you waltzed toward his couch and practically threw yourself on it while Sanzu wandered off to get the item he had recently bought you.

You still couldn’t believe that he had offered you to stay with him in this penthouse for free but you had to politely decline his offer since you still liked the idea of having your own space, plus, you didn’t even know when this whole thing was going to end, so it was better to be ready with a place to fall back to.

The first time you saw his penthouse, your mind was blown. The interior design screamed modern and luxurious, every corner you turned had your jaw dropping. There was a massive crystal chandelier that hung right at the centre of his living room, the walls were mainly floor-to-ceiling glass which allowed you to see breathtaking panoramic views of the city, it was truly beautiful during sunrise and sunset. The way the warm hues of the sun engulfed the whole space was just phenomenal.

His bedroom was grand and also consisted of these floor-to-ceiling glass, to which sometimes he liked to fuck you against, giving you a view of the bustling streets below as he pounded into you.

“Here.” Sanzu thrusted a rather large brown paper bag into your face, his aquamarine eyes gleaming with pure excitement. You sat up from his couch and took the paper bag, Christian Louboutin it read, written in white font.

He can’t be serious, you thought.

He sat next to you as you pulled out an equally coloured shoe box, which also had the same writing as the bag. “Sanzu…” you gasped, giving him a look of disbelief but he only silently urged you on to open the box.

After several layers of white tissue paper, you were met with a vibrant red shoe bag that had the same writing as the paper bag and the shoe box. As you removed the shoe bag, you were met with the most breathtaking pair of shoes you’ve ever seen.

They were black 130mm heeled platforms, donning its signature red bottom and consisted of a strap that would encase the ankle. The pumps were shiny underneath the chandelier light, causing you to gape at it with a curious gaze as you picked up one shoe. It was your very first pair of Louboutins and you were beyond ecstatic.

With Sanzu’s help, you managed to step into the heels. It was very comfortable despite its daunting heel size; you walked back and forth in his living room, strutting about and trying to get comfortable with the new pumps, the red bottoms loudly clicking against the tiled floors.

With a huge smile plastered on your face, you stopped in front of Sanzu, “Oh my goodness, I am over the moon right now.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest and inhaling his musky cologne. Sanzu stroked your hair, chuckling, “Anything for my baby. You always look so pretty in the things I buy you.”

“Now, how about I reward you for being so good today?” His hand stopped right at your nape and snaked around to the front of your neck, slightly pushing you away and leaning down to give you a passionate kiss, which you didn’t hesitate to return.

This time, his kisses were soft and sensual, like he wanted to savour every single moment with your lips on his but there was a slight desperation in them. You didn’t miss the way Sanzu’s fingers ever so slightly tightened around your neck and the way he leaned forward to try and deepen the kiss.

He didn’t spend much time with your lips and started trailing light but eager kisses down the side of your neck, earning a slight whimper from you as he bit down on a particular spot. Your hands clung to his navy blue blazer, wrinkling the expensive fabric with how much he abused your neck with his mouth.

You were already a whimpering mess and Sanzu hasn’t even done anything to you, yet. He loved how responsive you were under his touches, how the slightest touch he gave elicited the prettiest sounds from you. Such a good girl for him, that’s why he loved spoiling you.

“Wait for me on the bed, princess. You know what to do, everything off except those fuckin’ heels.” Sanzu broke the kiss and gave your forehead a soft peck, ushering you to his bedroom.

You nodded and wordlessly made your way to his room, platform heels loudly making contact with the tiled floor. Every step you took had your heart racing faster with excitement, you knew you were in for a long night and Sanzu wasn’t the one to hold back, especially if you’ve been such a good girl for him,

Before getting on Sanzu’s bed and waiting for him there, you had obeyed his instructions and stripped down every single article of clothing that covered your body, except your new Louboutins. You patiently sat on the edge of the bed, slightly shivering at the contrast of the cool air against your exposed skin, causing goosebumps and your nipples to immediately harden.

If you were being honest, you were already wet. You knew Sanzu didn’t have to do much since you were already turned on from the head you gave him in his car earlier. The way he turned into a whimpering mess despite being so domineering did things to you, it always did and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together at the thought of him.

Sanzu came in a few seconds later, one hand holding his unfastened tie and the other holding handcuffs which mischievously glimmered under the hallway light, “Good girl. Now lie back on the pillows for me, baby.” He gave you a smug smile, his long legs striding towards the bed.

He encased one wrist with a cuff, the audible click of it letting you know that there was no getting away from him now; Sanzu looped the chain that held the cuffs together around the back of a metal bar on his headboard and cuffed your other wrist, both hands now firmly situated above your head. You slightly tugged at the cuffs, it was cold against your skin but you liked it.

Sanzu also brought the black tie up to your eyes, completely obstructing your view from anything, he firmly tied a knot behind your head and gave you a peck on the lips.

With your vision obstructed and your hands bound, you could only rely on your hearing. This made everything much more exciting, the thrill of not being able to see what he was going to do next nor not being able to touch him.

You could hear the rustling of sheets and suddenly, Sanzu wasn’t on the bed with you anymore, you couldn’t feel his weight on the bed. You assumed he was undressing himself as you heard the loud clang of the metal buckle on his belt meet the floor, along with the rustling of fabric.

The bed dipped under Sanzu’s weight as he positioned himself near your feet, he grabbed your ankles and brought them closer to you, effectively bending your knees toward the ceiling. He crawled closer to your anticipating body, watching the way your chest heaved with desperation and mouth slightly parted, smirking at the way your Louboutins dug into the mattress.

He spread your legs apart and started kissing down your inner thighs, alternating between each leg, earning a small moan of surprise from you. Sanzu stopped at a spot dangerously near the apex of your legs, biting and sucking at the supple flesh, causing you to whine and instinctively tug at the metal cuffs around your wrist.

“You’re already so wet for me… have I been neglecting my baby?” He cooed into your wet folds, lips ghosting over them to tease you. Fuck, your scent drove Sanzu crazy, he didn’t even know if he was even going to last but he wanted this to be about you and you, only. He didn’t care about putting his needs last, he wanted you to cum around him, and as many times as you could.

You let out a sigh of content as Sanzu flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your wet cunt, revelling at the way you tasted against him. He watched as you desperately yanked your wrists, making a loud clanking noise as he wrapped his mouth around your cunt, noisily sucking like his life depended on it.

Small whines escaped past your lips at Sanzu’s ministrations but soon turned into a loud moan as he shoved his stiff tongue inside, exploring every single space of your wet heat. His tongue moved in you at such speed that caused you to instinctively close your legs with the pleasure being too much to handle but Sanzu pinned both your knees sideways on the bed, his firm grip letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you close your legs.

“You can’t be doing that, baby. When I’m giving you a reward, you’ll have to take all of it.”

That’s right. Sanzu didn’t only spoil you by buying you expensive luxury items, no, he spoiled you in many different ways, and just like how you kindly accepted the things he bought you, you had to do the same thing with what he was giving you right now. Denying his mouth was equivalent to denying everything he had bought you.

Sanzu alternated between licking and sucking at your clit without faltering, causing you to near your orgasm. He looked up at you from his long prominent lashes and observed the way your stomach was clenching and back arching with pleasure, how you constantly pulled at the cuffs on your wrist hard enough to leave red marks, the way your lips were parted slightly and letting out shallow high pitched whines along with his name.

“Aah! Fuck, Sanzu! I’m going to cum.” Your hips desperately bucked up against his mouth as you came on it, head thrown back against his pillows as you cried out Sanzu’s name in a loud moan, it was music to his ears.

Sanzu lapped up your cum, sloppily licking at your cunt, causing your legs to shake at the overstimulation. If he wasn’t pinning your legs down, you would have tried to close your them already. He gave your cunt one last peck before finally leaving it alone.

You panted against his mattress, legs jelly and mind hazy from just being eaten out, your arms were also burning at the uncomfortable position but you knew Sanzu was nowhere near done.

The night just had begun, and like he wrote in that piece of paper when you first met him, he’s just getting started.

He got on his knees and gave his hard cock a few strokes, groaning at the pleasure. Sanzu placed both your legs over his shoulders and grabbed the base of his cock, teasing the tip of it with your cunt, slowly rubbing up and down your wet folds but never actually putting it in.

“Sanzu, please…” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip. He was so close but not exactly where you needed him to be.

It was truly a sight to see. Your hands bound above your head with handcuffs, your vision obstructed with his tie, your legs resting on top of his shoulders, and your newly bought Louboutins just behind his head.

Wasting no time, Sanzu slowly pushed his tip into your wet heat, already groaning at your tightness but before he could push any further, his phone loudly rang which caused both of you to jump at the sound. “Fucking hell.” Sanzu scoffed, slipping out of you and placing your legs back down to grab his phone from the pile of clothes.

“Sanzuuu, I’m sure they can wait. Please, just fuck me.” You whined, craning your neck as you felt him getting off the bed but he ignored your desperate pleas and answered his phone, “What the fuck do you want, Haitani?” He spat, hastily making his way back to you and placing your legs up on his shoulders again.

Was he seriously about to fuck you while on call? Who was that, anyway?

Sanzu kissed the inner side of your knee before slowly pushing all the way in, letting out a hot gasp and throwing his head back at the way your hot cunt desperately sucked him in, “Ah, fuck! You’re taking me so well, baby.” He praised you, on hand settling on your hip and the other holding his phone against his ears.

“Are you seriously fucking someone right now? Sanzu–” “You’re the one who called me during a very important moment, Ran. Now, what do you want?” You heard Sanzu reply to whoever was on the call, his voice clearly strained.

“Getting your dick wet isn’t important! I was just about to ask you if you wanted to come with Rindou and I.” Ran huffed, Sanzu could tell the older man was rolling his eyes at him.

Sanzu picked up his pace, the way his balls loudly slapped against your ass could surely be heard by Ran. “Ngh—ah! Sanzu!” a loud moan escaped your lips, causing you to quickly bite down at your bottom lip, embarrassment filling you as the male on the other side of the call most likely heard your shameless moan.

“Why would I want to—ah! Fuck! Why would I want to go with you two—ngh!” He shamelessly moaned into his phone, not giving a single fuck if Ran was disgusted or not, he should be thankful he even picked up the call.

Sanzu saw the way you were biting your lip so hard that it was sure to draw blood soon, he didn’t like you concealing your moans so he leaned forward and the hand that was previously on your hip was now situated on the mattress, beside your chest. This position allowed him to get deeper strokes into you, earning a loud cry of his name from you.

He was so deep and deliciously hit your g spot over and over again that you couldn’t help but let out a chain of loud moans, at this point you didn’t even think about the person on Sanzu’s phone, he was giving it to you so good that you had to let him know. The metal cuffs clinked against his headboard as you tried to desperately reach for something to keep you grounded with the immense pleasure you felt.

It also didn’t help with how your vision was obstructed, resulting in your other senses to become heightened, you could feel pleasure at a much higher level.

Ran was saying something to Sanzu but he was too lost in pleasure to even comprehend what the fuck he was talking about. His head was spinning from pleasure, god, you were taking him so well. “Mhm. You know what—ah! I don’t—oh fuck, Princess! I don’t even fucking care at this point, I’m hanging up.” Sanzu threw his head back in pleasure as he chucked his phone somewhere in the sheets but forgetting to actually end the call.

He couldn’t care less. He wanted your cum around his dick.

With the distraction at bay, Sanzu focused on you. Leaning down to suck on your breasts and neck as you panted below him, “Are you close, baby?” he gritted against your neck, jaw tightening at how tight you were around him. You frantically nodded, face contorted with pleasure and lips parted, letting out desperate high pitched whines, “I—ngh! I’m going to cum, Sanzu!” you cried out.

Sanzu leaned closer to your ear, “Fuck, that’s it, princess. Cum around my cock like the good girl you are.” he panted, his hot breath fanning against the side of your neck.

You arched your back in pleasure, chest pushing up against Sanzu’s as you moaned his name, followed by a string of profanities. Sanzu’s hips didn’t falter one bit, despite how tight you became as you clenched around him, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and how much of a good girl you were for him as he rode out your orgasm.

“Ngh—ah! I’m so close.” Sanzu whined as he quickly pulled his cock out of you, desperately pumping it with his hand. He bucked his hips up at his hand and threw his head back with a loud groan as he cummed on your chest, his hands not slowing down to milk his cock down to every last drop.

You moaned at the sensation of his hot cum landing on you, arching your back to push your chest further toward him. Sanzu panted above you, seeing the way your body was decorated with his semen.

“We’re not done yet, baby.” he chuckled.

Before he could do anything, he heard his phone beep, like someone had just ended the call. Sanzu was surprised that Ran actually stayed that long in the call, he thought Ran would’ve ended it by the time he threw the phone elsewhere.

Sanzu was true to his words. He was not done with you until you were all spent and begging for him to stop, safe to say that you weren’t going to be walking properly anytime soon and that was fine by you, it was a Friday night anyway.

You lazily lounged on Sanzu’s couch, eating and mindlessly watching whatever programme was on the TV. You were currently waiting for Sanzu to get home, apparently he got called in for work even though it was a Sunday, but oh well. He also told you not to stay up too late and try wait for him but you were stubborn.

It was late in the evening and the programme that was on was the news channel, but you didn’t pay much attention to it and savoured the way your food tasted against your tongue. You could feel your eyes getting droopy by the minute but fought the urge to let sleep take over you.

“In tonight’s news, we now focus on the country’s most notorious crime syndicate, Bonten, as they continue to pose danger to the public… the people shown in this video clip are it’s executives and members…”

Instinctively, you looked up from your snack and towards the TV to see the footage of a white haired man walking and his back towards the camera. A particular design caught you off guard, it was the tattoo on the man’s nape that made you think for a while. His tattoo was of a hanafuda card that symbolised the full moon.

Have I seen that before? You thought.

You shook your head at the silly thought, how have you seen that tattoo before when the news reporter literally mentioned that it originated from the country’s most notorious crime syndicate. Surely if you were to come across a member of that crime syndicate, you probably wouldn’t even make it alive.

Trying to take your mind off the news, you switched the channel to a random one which happened to be a food channel, you could work with that. Your attention shifted over to the door, hearing it close and someone shuffling around.

Sanzu.

The man walked through the hallway, hanging his blazer on the coat rack and rolling his polo sleeves up, “Baby, what are you still doing up?” Sanzu sighed as he waltzed over to you, hands wide open to pull you into a hug. “I wanted to wait for you…” you mumbled into his stomach, the smooth material of his tuxedo vest rubbing against your face.

He rubbed your cheeks and smiled down at you, his eyes filled with genuineness, “I’ll just wash up real quick, okay?” You nodded and Sanzu gave you a soft peck on the forehead before heading for his bedroom.

You looked over his shoulder and trailed his figure that slowly disappeared into the hallway leading to his room, letting out a sigh you’ve been holding as you could feel your heart racing faster.

There were two things that stood out to you despite his dimly lit penthouse, the first one was the hanafuda card tattoo on his left forearm and the other was the ever so slightly spots of red on his sleeves but maybe your eyes played tricks on you for that one but you surely saw his tattooed left arm.

Your mind was quick to wander elsewhere, you didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe you were just overthinking it, maybe he just coincidentally got the same tattoo as the country’s most feared syndicate, surely, right?

Besides, the odds of becoming face to face with an executive of Bonten were practically zero to none. You lived a quiet life so there was no reason for you to even encounter a member, that’s right, your life was nothing but monotonous… until you met Sanzu.

Come to think of it, Sanzu never even told you where he worked or who he worked for. All you knew is that he was a busy man but still made time for you but this piece of missing information was enough to speculate. You knew it was wrong to accuse someone without hard, concrete evidence; innocent until proven guilty, your law professors taught you that.

But something inside you screamed to know the truth, you didn’t know how you’ll gain the information, surely not by walking up to him and going, “Hey, are you part of that crime syndicate called Bonten?”

Just then, a name suddenly popped up in your head. Sanzu mentioned a name two days ago during a call.

Haitani.

That name rang a bell to you but where have you heard it before? It took you a few minutes to ponder over the somewhat familiar name but it finally clicked. Haitani, that was the name you’ve heard a lot back when you were still working at the club in Roppongi. The club they owned. You didn’t know much about the name’s origin but you knew there were two of them and they basically ruled that district. Gang members.

It dawned upon you that Sanzu once mentioned that he knew the owner of the club when you first met him. It made sense. The dots all connected to one another but what were you exactly going to do?

You quickly turned the TV off and made your way to Sanzu’s bedroom, the shower was still running which indicated he was nowhere near being done. You walked into his room, your eyes immediately catching his unlocked drawer slightly ajar, the drawer that he always locked without fail, the one he always opened before he left early in the mornings.

Shallow breaths slipped past your lips as you nervously made your way toward it, taking cautious steps like something would jump out at you at any minute. Your hands nervously reached for the handle and pulled it, the loud creaking sound making you jolt.

A gun. All in its glory, lying right in the middle of the drawer and nothing else. The metal barrel shone under the bright lights of Sanzu’s bedroom, as if it was taunting you.

You took a few steps back, eyes widening at the dangerous weapon before your eyes. So many questions ran through your head and it also didn’t help the way your heart was beating faster than ever.

Your head snapped toward the bathroom door as Sanzu stepped out, damp rosy pink hair, exposed chest and grey sweatpants sitting dangerously low around his waist. His eyes darted between the unreadable expression in your face and the opened drawer, tilting his head slightly to the side, he looked at you with a weird glint in his eyes,

“Baby, has no one ever taught you not to go through things that aren’t yours?” His voice laced with venom as he took long strides towards you, his slender fingers making its way to your chin to firmly hold it in place.

Avoiding his eye contact, you muttered a small apology, closing your eyes which only made Sanzu smirk, “Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson, huh?” Before you could say anything, he closed the gap between your lips, his other hand silently reaching for the 9mm in the drawer and placed it in his pocket. It wasn’t loaded, Sanzu knew better than to load his gun with bullets with you around his penthouse.

He backed you into the floor-to-ceiling glass before deepening the kiss; his kisses were rough and needy, the way his lips hungrily moved against yours told you that he was desperate. You didn’t hesitate to return his kiss in the same manner, your mind slowly forgetting about this whole thing but it was still there, in the back of your head, waiting to be unravelled.

Sanzu’s hand snaked inside your pants, giving tight circles around your clothed clit, causing you to moan into his mouth. He didn’t have to do much to get you dripping, after all, his light kisses and fingers were enough to have you begging on your knees for him. That was the effect he had on you, he was like drugs and you needed a dose of him everyday.

“You better be all ears for me, baby. I’m only teaching you this lesson once.”

In no time, you were out of your shirt as he turned your body around and pressed your exposed front against the cold surface of the glass, your breath immediately fogging it up. Sanzu trailed kisses down your nape and sucked at a spot on your back, earning a small moan from you. His hands wandered to your chest, each roughly massaging a breast, pulling and groping it.

“Mhm… Sanzu, please.”

Sanzu wasted no time to pull your pants down, slightly shivering at the sudden cool air that hit your exposed legs; he swiftly pulled his stiff cock out of his sweatpants and teased your wet folds through your panties. Your nails scraped against the smooth glass as Sanzu continued with his teasing, tears almost forming in your eyes at how turned on you were.

But he was just as horny as you, so he pushed your panties aside and slid his cock in, bottoming out in one go. You threw your head back against his shoulders, your hands balling into fists against the fogged up glass, “Hah, Sanzu!”

“Such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Sanzu chuckled, pulling out his unloaded 9mm and firmly pressing it against your neck, your walls tightly clenched around his dick at the cool sensation of the barrel against your skin, Sanzu also noticed this and from there on, he saw red.

He picked up his pace, hips roughly fucking up into you at the fastest pace he could possibly attain, “You like it when I use my gun on you? You like the thrill of that? What a fucking slut.” Sanzu whispered into your hair, teeth gritting at the way your walls deliciously hugged his cock, you were so tight that he literally had to let his mind wander somewhere else so he wouldn’t cum right then and there.

You could only moan at his questions, your breasts tightly pressing against the glass surface as your back arched due to Sanzu’s merciless hips. Nothing else was on your mind now, just his cock and the way he was hitting your g-spot with every single thrust of his hips.

His gun made its way to your lips, “Suck on it.” He demanded and you didn’t hesitate to open your mouth and place your lips around the tip of his gun, tongue swirling and sucking on it like it was Sanzu’s dick.

Sanzu cursed against your neck as he heard the wet squelches of your mouth working against his gun, the way your head desperately leaned into the 9mm as if you wanted more, the way you moaned around it the same way you would with his dick. His grip on the weapon tightened, fuck, you were so filthy.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Sanzu hooked his free hand on the back of your knee and brought it up against the glass, he was much deeper this time and it turned you into nothing but a teary moaning mess around his 9mm. You were so close to cumming.

High pitched whines escaped your lips every time his crotch slapped against your ass, there wasn’t anything you could do but fist your hands into the glass and moan against the weapon that he held up your lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum! Cum with me, princess…” Sanzu groaned, inhaling the scent of your hair as he sealed his eyes shut at the immense pleasure. He pushed his gun further into your mouth as you reached your orgasm, causing you to moan loudly and tightly clench around his dick, your legs shaking and nails scraping against the glass surface at the intense sensation you felt.

Sanzu stilled his hips as he came and roughly pushed his dick inside you, causing you tiptoe a bit. He moaned against your back, the grip around your knee tightening, a string of profanities slipped past his lips as you rode out his orgasm by clenching around him.

That night, Sanzu came clean to you. He was indeed part of Bonten and even had a high position as the second-in-command. He told you how you were free to terminate the contract between the two of you because he would understand the fear it instilled within you but he did let you know that he would make sure no harm would come your way, if you decided to stay.

It was pretty self explanatory about why he kept you in the dark about the truth about his job, but he also told you how you helped him take his mind off all the fucked up things he has done. That’s why he had no problem giving and spending large amounts of money on you, after all, it was just dirty money anyway. He figured he could at least put it to good use.

Sanzu has also opened up about how he had practically stopped popping pills left and right ever since he became your sugar daddy, it was a very different world with you, he felt emotions he’s never felt before and feelings he’s never had before.

The world with Bonten often left him feeling empty, a void where his heart should be that he filled by abusing drugs just to get a quick high to try and forget about the horrors of what he has done to innocent people.

You always thought that Sanzu being your sugar daddy only benefited you, but little did you know it actually benefited him more than you could imagine. You needed his money and he needed your company, you needed each other to get through life.

He asked you that night if you were still going to stay with him despite his criminal status.

If playing with fire was your only ticket to living the lavish lifestyle, then you wouldn’t hesitate dancing with the devil in disguise, also known as Haruchiyo Sanzu, Bonten’s second-in-command.

#SugarDaddyCollab #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #sanzu x y/n #sanzu x you #sanzu smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 months

Text

Grinning Like a Devil

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 3539

Summary: Matt and the reader tease each other relentlessly at work. What happens when they discover that it’s more than just harmless flirting? One night of one too many drinks may prove just that.

Notes: Some of my favorite Matt edits are to the song ‘Cruel Summer’ by Taylor Swift, and while I didn’t totally want to do another song based imagine for it (I have a different one for him in the works), I really love this cute little line for him. Plus I really need to write more fluff for him because everything is so angsty. This is, as so much of my fluff, a total mess, so I hope you guys enjoy.

More Matt imagines: HERE

“And that’s three for me and… oh yeah, none for you,” you smirked, leaning on your pool stick.

“Isn’t there some kind of rule about making fun of the blind guy?” Matt chuckled.

“Matty, we both know you could have kicked my ass hours ago.” You shook your head and stepped towards him. “Stop toying with me and play.”

Matt leaned towards you.

For a second, you were afraid he could hear your heart racing in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach resuming their painful, wild dance. You faked a cocky laugh, letting him know you weren’t backing down.

A grin formed on his lips. “Okay.”

The next break landed three stripes. His next series of shots landed two more. You were right about one thing- he was perfectly capable of kicking your ass. The end of the game yielded only one shot for you while he swept the table. Hell, looked so bad for you, that you were half tempted to cheat and point him at the wrong ball. Somehow you felt he would know.

Matt put up his pool stick and took yours with a smile. You tried to keep your jaw from dropping.

He chuckled. “You asked for it.”

You snapped out of your awestruck state and laughed. “Remind me to keep my mouth shut next time.”

He paused and his smile shifted into a smirk. “Next time?”

“Oh, that was just round one, Murdock. One of these days, I will beat you fair and square. Without you going easy on me.”

He held out a hand.

You took it.

“Challenge accepted.”

The touch sent a pleasant shock up your arm. His finger traced along the back of your hand as he pulled away, grazing your knuckles. Your breathing hitched and another smirk spread across his face.

Bastard.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he said. “Do you want anything else?”

You cleared your throat to stop from squeaking. “Surprise me.”

He nodded and headed back to the bar. You had to lean against the pool table to stop your knees from shaking. This was stupid. You saw Matt every day.

But the way he smiled at you…

“Here.” Matt handed you a tall glass of a dark liquid.

“What the hell is that?” You laughed through your grimace, holding the drink up to the light. It was clouded and hardly allowed any of the neon to shine through.

Matt shrugged. “A surprise.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Oh, but you love me,” he teased.

“Whatever.” You took a drink and immediately regretted it. The burning liquid traveled down your throat like black tar and despite how hard you tried, you couldn’t hold back the coughs.

Matt laughed and sipped his perfectly normal beer.

“Shut… up…” you sputtered.

He kept laughing. It sent a surge of idiotic courage through your chest.

You tapped the bottom of the glass against the pool table, took a deep breath, and gulped down the rest of the foul drink without breaking. You swallowed back the disgusted coughs and touched the empty glass to his chest.

“Is that-” You winced at the taste still lingering in your mouth. “The best you’ve got, Murdock?”

Matt chuckled and shook his head, setting the glass aside. You take a step forward on wobbly legs and stumble. His arms shot out to catch you and held you up against his chest.

You both froze, dizzy from more than just the alcohol.

“Maybe that’s enough for tonight,” he breathed.

Having you this close, he didn’t need his hearing to know your heart started to race. And he knew, with your hands pressed against his chest, you could feel his too.

“That’s probably a good idea,” you agreed, finding your footing again.

The break of contact left a hollowness in his chest. His hand found your arm, both to steady you and to fill the space the lack of your touch had created.

You closed your tabs and he insisted on paying, despite your protests.

“After that toxic waste you downed, it's the least I can do,” he said.

“Celebrating anything specific?” Josie wondered. Her eyes shifted curiously between the two of you and she gave you a smirk.

Your face reddened.

“We won a pretty major case today,” Matt explained with a smile. “The big bad land developers were defeated all thanks to Y/N’s investigating skills.”

“Are you kidding?” You scoffed. “You and Foggy did all of the real work in that courtroom.”

“Work we couldn’t have done without you.” He squeezed your hand. “Give yourself some credit. Without you, we’re just a couple of guys in suits and no case.”

“Hey, don’t sell Foggy short,” you snorted. “He does all the real lawyering while you stand there and look pretty.”

A sly smirk spread across Matt’s face. “Pretty, huh?”

“Goodnight, Josie,” you said, trying to hurry away, but Matt’s hold on your arm remained. Standing this close, his laugh vibrated through you.

You walked out together into the chilly February evening. The brisk air bit at your bare arms, having forgotten your jacket in the office. You tried not to shiver.

“Here,” Matt said. He slipped off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Thanks.”

You tried not to think about how the fabric smelled like him- like cedarwood and leather.

Matt kept his hold on your arm, less to guide himself and more to keep you from tripping on something. The heat of his fingers on your skin radiated throughout your body. You tried to keep your breathing normal, but it was like the air was getting thin. That last drink really was a bad idea.

By the time you reached the door of your apartment, you were sure your flesh was burning up. You desperately dug through your purse, feeling the dread build up more and more as you searched.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Everything okay?” Matt asked, brows furrowed in a way that was far too adorable for you to handle at the moment.

“I, um,” you gulped. “I can’t find my keys. I must have left them at the office. Damnit.” You smacked your hand against the door, hitting it a little harder than you meant to and wincing.

Matt took your hand in both of his, holding you steady. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No it isn’t. You walked me all the way here and now I can’t get in and it’s too late to try to call me landlord and-” Your intoxicated brain spiraled into all of the things you’d done wrong that evening that led you to this moment.

Getting drunk with the man you were in love with being numero uno.

You started to hyperventilate.

Matt put your hand against his chest so you could feel the slow and steady rhythm of his heart as he breathed. He took a deep breath, indicating for you to do the same.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, just calm down,” he said softly. “Can you do that?”

You closed your eyes, took a few breaths, and nodded.

“Sorry,” you said, sheepishly dodging his gaze. “Sometimes drunk-brain turns into anxiety-panic-brain and I have moments like that.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he smiled. Matt let go of your hand but kept hold of your arm. “Why don’t we just go to my place? It’s just a few blocks away. We can pick up your keys tomorrow.”

Your heart leaped into your throat.

“Like… spend the night?”

Matt gave you that famous smile. “I’m flattered, Y/N, but I’m afraid you would be taking advantage of me,” he teased.

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up.”

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been to Matt’s apartment before, but this felt different. Maybe it was that horrible, horrible drink still making your brain a little fuzzy, but the neon lights of the billboard outside lit everything in a beautiful, color-changing glow.

The two of you sat on Matt’s couch and talked for what felt like hours. About nothing, about everything, about you, about him.

“So I go every year now to commemorate the occasion,” you said confidently

“You have an anniversary for falling off of a swan boat in Central Park?” He snickered.

“It was a formative moment in my childhood!”

Matt held up his hands. “Okay, fair enough.”

“When’s the last time you just took a walk?” You asked, leaning a little closer. “You know, stopped and smelled the roses? In all the time I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you slow down.”

Matt swallowed and didn’t answer. You had a point.

“You have to let yourself live, Matt. You can’t go around trying to save everyone.” You leaned closer, eyes falling to his lips.

Matt drew in, unable to stop himself. How long had he thought about this? How long had he thought about telling you? When he thought about slowing down, he wanted to do it with you. You made him want to want to have a life.

He pulled away.

“I think you should probably get some sleep.”

You jerked back.

“Right,” you said. “Thanks.”

What the hell had you been thinking?

“I’ll sleep out here,” Matt said. He stood up and went to a cupboard in the hall.

“Matt, you are not giving up your bed because I forgot my keys.”

“Too late, I already grabbed clean sheets.”

“Matthew-”

“Y/N, really, it’s fine.” He said and from his tone, you knew there was no winning. Besides, you were embarrassed enough. Did you really just try to kiss him? You didn’t even feel drunk anymore, which you didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

You hurried into Matt’s room and tried not to think about the fact that you were sleeping in his bed, under his covers, blanketing you in his scent.

This whole night was starting to feel like a mistake.

Matt listened to your heartbeat and felt the heat rushing to your face, kicking himself for making you feel like you’d done something wrong. He’d have to talk to you in the morning, when you were both sober, so you could have no doubt that what he wanted to say was true.

You both went to sleep with butterflies in your stomach and thoughts of each other in your dreams.

You woke up to a killer headache and the smell of coffee. You felt the sheets around you. Silk. Definitely not yours.

The memory of the night before started to come back to you.

Oh. God.

You were at Matt’s apartment.

You slept in his bed.

You tried to kiss him.

And he was outside the sliding door, right now.

The floor was cool against your bare feet, your legs shaking as you tried to walk silently to the door. You slid it open just a crack. Just to see where he was.

Matt was walking around the kitchen, most of his frame hidden by the open fridge door.

You stepped out of his bedroom. If you could just sneak to the door…

“Morning,” he greeted cheerily, closing the fridge door and giving you a bright smile. “I made you some coffee.” Matt held up a steaming mug with a slight chuckle. “I thought you might need it.”

You winced. “Right. Thanks.”

Matt could feel your skin getting warmer, as well as the churning of nausea going through your head.

“How are you feeling?”

“Super.”

Matt grimaced. “Yeah, I felt the same when I woke up. Hence, coffee.” He took a drink from his own mug.

There was a long, unbroken, and horrifically awkward silence between you. Why couldn’t you have one of those hangovers that obliterate any memory from the night before? Why couldn’t you get the image of him pulling away from you out of your head? Why did you have to try to kiss him? Why did you have to ruin everything?

“I should go.”

Matt blew out a low sigh. “I’ll walk you home.” He moved to stand, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I think I should go by myself,” you said quickly. If you stayed any longer, you would start to cry and you couldn’t do that in front of him.

“Y/N-” Matt started.

“Thank you for letting me stay, but I have some stuff I want to get done before we have to get to the office.”

Matt heard your heart racing. He could hear the edge in your voice.

He’d hurt you and he hated himself for it. He wanted the chance to fix things, but at the moment, he knew that anything he said would just make it worse.

“I’ll see you there, then,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, uhuh, right. Bye, Matt.” You scurried out of the door, forgetting your jacket and your purse but being far too embarrassed to go back in for them. As long as you had your keys, you would be fine. A fresh change of clothes and a cold shower. That’s what you needed.

Once you forced yourself to get ready for work, you actually had to go to work. Which meant facing Karen- who knew all too well your crush on your boss. And worse, it meant facing Matt again. Maybe you could get away with avoiding him.

You could not.

When you got to the office, Matt was there, perched on the edge of your desk with your bag and jacket in hand.

“You, uh, forgot these,” he said, giving you an awkward half-smile.

Karen sat at her adjacent desk and raised a brow.

You took your things and put them on the desk, feeling that all too familiar rush of blush to your face. Thank god he couldn’t see it.

Matt nodded and walked to his office, letting his hand graze your shoulder as he went, hoping it would be a comfort, but when he heard your heartbeat rise, he realized it was probably a mistake.

How could he show you that what happened last night, the reason he pulled away, was not what you were thinking?

The day passed agonizingly slowly, but at least Foggy and Matt kept busy enough that you were able to avoid him for the most part. You couldn’t bear the pitying half-smile he gave you so you made sure to stay with Karen, looking over cases and organizing facts about clients.

Matt was going mad, flipping through papers and listening to Foggy read off statements. All he could think about was the hurt in your voice and how he was the reason for it.

“Uh, earth to Matt,” Foggy said, snapping his fingers. “You there buddy?”

Matt swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

Foggy leaned over the desk with a slow, teasing smirk. “I think I know what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You finally made a move on Y/N. Didn’t you?”

Now it was Matt’s turn to blush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, Matt,” Foggy exclaimed. “I saw it from the minute she wandered through our doors. You like her.” He poked Matt’s shoulder, prompting him to shrug away and stand. This, of course, was all the answer Foggy needed. “Oh my God you do like her!”

“Foggy-”

“So what happened? Did you guys go on a date?” Foggy raised a brow. “Did you do more than go on a date?”

Matt went silent.

Foggy’s jaw dropped. “Oh, did she reject you?”

Matt ran a hand down his face. “That’s not what happened.”

“Don’t tell me that you rejected her.”

“That’s not what…” Matt grimaced. “It wasn’t like that.” Because of course, he liked you and of course, under different circumstances, he would have liked to do a lot more than kiss you, but he couldn’t unless he knew that it was really what you wanted and not what the liquor was telling you to want.

“Well, whatever it was like, you better fix it,” Foggy said, walking to the door. “Because you do not want to let that one get away, my friend.”

The rest of the day passed painfully. You were avoiding him and he was trying to figure out how to make you stop avoiding him. It didn’t help that Foggy kept giving both of you painfully obvious hints, worst of all being when he asked Karen to help him run an errand, clearing his throat loudly as he passed Matt’s door.

You kept your head down, looking over client files and incident reports. Anything to take your mind off of the way his arm felt around your waist. His breath on your cheek. You came across a file that had a recorded statement. Shit. it must have gotten put with your things by mistake.

You swallowed, stood, and made your way to Matt’s office.

“I think this is probably for you,” you said softly, standing in his doorway. “I don’t usually listen to the statements.” You swallowed again, your throat feeling dry. “I just look into who you tell me to.”

“You do more than that,” Matt said, shaking his head. Why did you always downplay your importance? Could you see how much you meant to this place? To him? “Y/N, stay for a second. Shut the door please.” He took off his glasses.

You froze under his unfocused gaze, feeling him watch you in his own way.

“Is something wrong?” You gulped.

Matt gave you a small smile. “You’re the one who has been avoiding me all day.” He motioned for you to sit beside him on the edge of his desk. “I think we should probably talk about last night.”

“W-what… I don’t…” You stammered, staying where you were. “I didn’t think there was anything to talk about.”

Matt raised a brow, motioning again to the spot beside him.

You hung your head and shuffled to stand beside him.

“Now,” he said softly, “will you please talk to me? It’s been driving me insane all day not being around you.”

“What do you want me to say, Matt?” You sighed. Emotion crept its way into your tone. Embarrassment. Heartbreak. “Things took a turn. We stopped. We went to bed. What else is there?”

“What else is there?” Matt huffed, turning to fully face you. His hand reached for your arm. “Y/N, I did what I did because you were drunk. I didn’t think-”

“It’s okay, Matt.” You didn’t look at his face., at his dark eyes that managed to see you better than anyone ever had. “You don’t have to explain. You were just being kind. You let me stay because I was too drunk to open my own damn door. And I appreciate that, but please,” you grimaced at the memory of him pulling away from you. You shrugged away his hand. “Please just drop it.”

You moved to leave.

Matt stood in your way.

“I won’t just drop it,” he said, desperation in his tone. “Don’t you get that I can’t?” He grabbed you by the shoulders, not letting you go this time. “Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about last night. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You blinked. “W-What?”

This wasn’t real. This was another trick of your mind. Surely you weren’t still drunk.

“I have wanted a night like last night since you first walked through those doors,” he admitted, listening to your heart as it started to race. He gave you a small smile, hoping to calm you down. To convince you that what he was saying was the truth. “But I had to make sure that it’s what you really wanted. Not because of some awful drink I dared you to drink or because you felt like you owed me.”

“Matt…” You trailed off. Couldn’t he tell? Couldn’t he sense that you’d wanted the same thing ever since you first saw him?

“I just,” he sighed, “I need you to know that.”

You didn’t know what to say. Any words that formed on your tongue died before they could make it out of your lips.

Matt heard your heart pounding. He heard your fingers tugging on the bottom of your shirt- a nervous tick he’d noticed your first day. He let his head fall. He’d made things worse.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said softly, grabbing his cane and heading for the door.

You didn’t think. Thinking had so far gotten you nowhere. Instead, you grabbed his arm, pulled him back around, and crashed your lips into his.

Matt stumbled back in surprise but only for a moment. His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks gently as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

Both of you stepped, him forward and you back, his body pinning you against his desk, his arms moving around to hold you up against him. Your hands traveled up his chest and into his hair.

This was happening.

You pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“This is happening,” you gasped, unable to stop yourself.

Matt just grinned. He gave you that ridiculous, intoxicating, devilish grin. And it melted you.

“Do you want it to keep happening?” He asked cheekily.

You didn’t answer and pulled him back to you.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil imagines #marvel daredevil #charlie cox #matt murdock #daredevil fluff

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no-pilots-please · 2 years

Text

The Dry Spell

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader.

Who better to break your dry spell with than the cocky pilot from the bar. Men like him are all about a good time and no strings...right?

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content. Swearing. Drinking. Protected vaginal sex. Consensual. If you are under 18, do not engage with this content.

Part II: The Dinner Date

It was early evening at the Hard Deck, and you were finally off of work early for the first time in three months. You got home, changed, and cruised down to the local bar just to have a drink and blow off some steam. The bar was relatively quiet this early in the evening, but it was a Friday and it was bound to fill up soon. Packed out with mostly young men just off work at the base all wound up from their weeks and looking to blow of some steam as well. The perfect scenario for your intentions tonight.

You racked the pool balls and liked up the breaking shot, the loud smack interrupted by the opening of the door to the Hard Deck. You glanced over your shoulder as the tan shirts poured in, sizing up the handful of handsome men that boisterously moved towards the bar. Sipping your beer, you returned your attention to the pool game at hand, and started playing one side of a normally two sided game. You were laying the snare to your trap, setting up the perfect opportunity for some confident young man to come over and make conversation.

It had been three months of overtime, three months of seventy-hour work weeks. You had hardly any time for anything besides sleep and the occasional run or workout, let alone dating. The three month dry spell was ending tonight.

You glanced back to the bar and took a better look at the men. Eyes sweeping the group, you settled suddenly on the slick of sandy blonde hair and the Colgate commercial smile. He's a total stud.

Your eyes met from across the bar. Coyly, your raised your beer and cocked an eyebrow, before turning back to your solo game of pool. The trap was set, and you were the bait.

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

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were waiting for someone. Was it me?" The blonde was cockiness personified. He grabs a cue off the rack on the wall and leans on it, green eyes running up your legs as you bend across the table for your next shot. All the man can think about is how pretty that position would be if you were bent naked across a bed instead.

"No one in particular, flyboy. Just had to get out of the house." You turn and look at him, flashing a smile. You knew he wouldn't be able to stop from coming over.

"Jake." He offers his hand, and you take it with a firm shake. He feels strong. Your insides twist a bit in anticipation. "Unless I'm around that lot, then it's Hangman." He winks, and gestures back to the crew of khaki. "Let me save you from the embarrassment of being at the bar playing pool solo. Can't have a gorgeous creature like you spend a Friday night alone. I'm pretty good." He means pool, but there's more than just that which he's thinks he's good at.

"I bet you are." You respond coyly, nodding towards the table. "Stripes for you".

Bright green eyes scan the table, the blonde moving around it slowly, lining up and sinking shots. You watch his body bend and twist, reach and stretch across the table as he plays, admiring the wide, strong back and firm ass on display in the Naval uniform. Sipping your drink, you don't even try to hide your oogling. You fall into some back and forth banter with the pilot, matching his cocky attitude with a playful mocking tone, or leaning into his confidence. Buttering him up just right. There's tension between you as you move around the table past each other, subtly brushing and touching as you talk and play. He goes to the bar for another round at some point, chatting quickly with the group that he arrived with.

As Hangman returns from the bar with your drinks, you notice his friends starting to leave.

"They leaving you stranded here?" You tease, watching the last of the lot exit the Hard Deck.

"I hope not." He passes the drink to you, fingers touching and sending sparks through you, igniting the desire wound in your core. The look on his face is suggestive, expectant. You know this man has done this routine regularly, but you don't mind. You are eager to break the dry spell caused by work, and the sexy pilot fits the bill perfectly.

"We should go back to my place." The words are confident, direct. You lock eyes with him, continuing. "It's not far. We can walk." You giggle, gesturing at the beer making you just the right amount of confident.

"Yes we should." The blonde quirks his lips into a Hollywood grin that makes you melt. Finishing your drinks rather quickly and tipping the bar, you shuffle out and lead the way home.

‐-------‐------‐--------------‐---------------------

"I really want to kiss you right now, but the Navy has some ruled about PDA and uniforms." He looks at you, green eyes hungry as you walk under the streetlights towards your place.

"We better get that off of you soon, then. I want to see what's underneath anyway." You answer shamelessly.

His hands are all over you as you fumble with the keys at your front door. You two stumble inside and are immediately tangled together. You can't recall who kissed who, and just as suddenly he's picked you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks down the hallway in the direction of what had to be your bedroom.

He lies you down on the bed, and you start to work his belt buckle. "I said we need to get these off of you." Obliging, he steps back and removes his top as you watch him hungrily.

It was better than you imagined.

Golden tan skin was taught over a bulging six pack. You rarely ever saw a body like this in person. Of course you figured the pilot was in shape, the job and his cockiness demanded it. But this. It should be a crime to cover this man with clothing. He grins at your admiring eyes.

"Like what you see?" Hangman is cockiness, personified. You understand why.

You laugh. "I am very happy with my catch tonight."

Hes a bit puzzled by your response but he doesn't show it. Normally women throw themselves at him, acting like they're the lucky ones that he chooses to bed. He realizes that is not the case here. It doesn't matter much to him though. Not yet.

You lay down on the bed and he moves between your legs, radiating heat. Off comes your top, then your bra, and you're both stripped down to the thin cloth of your underwear.

His hands run up across your body, left hand on your breast, thumb circling the perked tip of your nipple. You arch your back in pleasure, reaching down to stroke over his cock that is now straining against his briefs. He moves his hands again, this time his right hand dipping to rub a light circle over your clothed center.

His touch electric. An erotic gasp spills from you. His hand dips lower, feeling your wet center soaked through your lacy boyshorts.

"Fuck. Baby, you're already so wet for me". He pulls down your underwear, eyes fixed on the glistening pussy revealed to him. He moistens his middle finger in his mouth and then positions it to circle your now exposed clit. Your hips buck to meet his touch. It has been months and you're so, so sensitive. The pressure starts you dripping.

Reluctantly, you sit up and shift away, rolling to open your bedside drawer and retrieve a condom. He removes his boxers and palms his hard on, stroking slowly in anticipation. You hand him the condom and he puts it on quickly.

"I need to feel you." You say hungrily, lying back and pulling him on top of you. He strokes his length through your wet folds, teasing and preparing you, kissing you deeply.

"Ready?" He asks, lips quirked in a grin.

"Just fuck me, Hangman."

He parts your walls with shallow strokes, giving you a chance to adjust and accept him. He's packing just right and the feeling and fit of his cock inside you is amazing. Your knees are spread around his hips, and your fingers find their way to twist in his blond hair. The aviator moans into your shoulder.

"You feel so good, baby." He encourages, hips rocking a little deeper as he wraps an arm around your lower back. You're signing with pleasure beneath him, blissfully enjoying the sight and feel of this man in your bed after so many lonely nights.

He picks up the pace, hips gyrating obscenely as he plunges into you. Your ankles are behind his hips, beckoning him deeper. He's hitting the right spot that sends your insides into a twist, and you're starting to get close.

"C'mere", Hangman beckons, pulling himself from inside you and standing next to the bed. Your eyes snap up at him, glaring in response to the sudden emptiness. He tugs you to your feet next to the bed, placing one hand on the crease of your hip. He pulls your hips back towards him and places a rough palm on the small of your back, gently coaxing you to fold at the waist. "Bend over for me, baby".

You know this routine. This is the position men like him use to finish their nights off, grabbing hips and pounding roughly until they finish. He was sexy as hell, but men like him, the type who chase conquests at every duty station don’t do relationships. Usually, they don’t bother with a woman’s orgasm. This Hangman sells a fantasy and that's what he's good at.

"No." You say, with a low voice.

"No?" He says with some confusion, pulling his hands from your body as if he's done something wrong. He might not be the best at ensuring female pleasure, but he knows it's important to make his partners comfortable, and the concern on his face shows clearly that he's worried he crossed a line.

You step around him, closing the gap between you as he turns to face you. You place your palms against the round, toned shoulders. In one smooth movement, you push him back onto the bed and climb to straddle his lap.

"I know what guys like you want when you bend a woman over.” Your words drip like honey. “But the thing is--" you reach down to grasp his cock, lips quirking in a devious grin as it twitches in your palm "--I haven't gotten mine yet. And since this is my house, you're not cumming until I do." You guide the swollen tip back to your entrance and sink down.

Hangman’s lips part slightly, struggling to respond to what just happened. His brows knit together, half in confusion and half in pleasure as you begin to roll your hips back and forth, palms flat on his chest.

This is all for you. Rocking and angling his cock just right as you straddle his hips, grinding down to control the pressure of your clit on his lower abs. You feel all muscle below your palms. The thought crosses your mind that if he objected to you suddenly taking charge the man below you could move you in an instant. But he doesn't.

"C'mon baby, you really think I wouldn't take care of you?" His rough hands start guiding your thrusts, his chest and shoulders rippling with the movement. The cocky grin returns to his features and he tilts his head at you in question. You're a sucker for the bold confidence.

"You go to doggy to finish.” your head is back and eyes closed as you focus on the feelings of pleasure swelling within you. The words come out between heavy breaths, matter-of-factly. “You go after what you want. But so do I.”

"Yes ma'am." Hangman drawls, green eyes dark with desire as he watches you. He shifts his legs and starts to fuck his length into you from the the bottom, strong hands pulling you down onto him.

"Uh-uh-uh." You lament, and stop moving. He rolls his head back, groaning in exasperation. A devilish smile flickers across your face.

"I'm the one doing the fucking."

His eyes narrow with lust and all he can do is nod, encouraging you to go back to riding his length, savoring the grip and stroke of your walls around him. You start to pick up the pace, angling just so. A ragged moan rises from your throat, and Hangman is enthralled in the sight of you practically masturbating with his cock, fucking yourself like he’s not even there. You are completely in charge, dominating the pace.

Dominate-the word rises in his mind. That's something no woman has ever done to Jake "Hangman" Seresin, especially not in the bedroom. He is transfixed.

"Holy shit, woman." He groans, fingers gripping your hips so tight you know the flesh beneath is bruising. You are surprised that this had that reaction on him. His cock is even stiffer than before against your walls. You press down, rolling your hips until finally the tension, wound up within you for entirely too long, snaps.

“Oh yes” You gasp quietly. Your rhythm breaks as you shudder, gripping him tightly inside and out as you ride the high. Your legs feel weak.

This was unlike anything Hangman has experienced before. He is raging hard. Athletically, he shifts and suddenly is on top of you, with you on your stomach. He positions himself at your entrance and slips in, pressing to the hilt. You're in such a haze you don't even resist the deep pressure, the slight pain mixed with waves of pleasure. You welcome it.

The blond plows into you, and your eyes roll back. His mouth is on your back, leaving a bruising series of kissed across your shoulder blade. It's been so long, and he's so fucking sexy, you don't protest. His hands are on your hips, pinning you to the bed below him and providing him leverage to thrust roughly into you.

"My turn, sweetheart". You feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear.

Hangman picks up his pace, snapping into you hot center. You're crying out in pleasure and each noise is a boost to the man's ego. He's gone feral. The sight of you shaking on his cock seared into his memory as he plows into your prone body and tight walls.

The sounds are obscene. He can't hold on much longer.

He shifts his hands, left hand moving to your shoulder and right hand gripping your hip tigher. He's pulling you onto him and you wish you could watch. "You've got me so close, baby". He mutters, breath shaky.

Your only answer is a breathy moan, and that's all the answer he needs. His hips snap roughly, moaning as he ruts through his orgasm. You can't help but think you'd have loved to watch his face as he made such a sexy sound.

Shifting to gently pull himself from you, Hangman presses a surprisingly tender kiss to the top of your shoulder. He rolls onto his back, chest heaving from the effort of your Intimacy. Meanwhile, youre already rising from the bed, fixing your wild hair and surveying the fingertip bruising on your hip. Jake is a little surprised that you're not trying to cuddle. "Well that was fun, Hangman." You casually offer, heading to the ensuite.

He cracks a grin and chuckles, shaking his head gently. You peek out the door and notice he is grinning up at the ceiling.

"What?" You toss the pilot a towel as he sits up.

"I think I may have met my match". He remarks, getting up and following you to the bathroom at the sound of the running shower.

"That so, flyboy?" You don't even turn to look at him, getting into the shower. After disposing of the condom in the bathroom trash, he steps in behind you, humming as the hot water hits his skin.

"Please call me Jake." His voice is soft.

You let out a small laugh. You figure he'll shower off and make up some excuse about needing to get back to base or something. "C'mon, we both know I won't have to call you anything when I wake up in the morning and you've left. This was fun and all but let's not pretend..." you begin, going about your shower routine for the night.

He cuts in, wrapping a large palm around your waist from behind. The man is smiling that million-dollar smile, and you can't help but admire the way it lights up his whole face. "Have dinner with me. I need to get to know the fascinating creature who's cocky enough to call the shots over me."

#jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin smut #hangman smut #top gun maverick fic #hangman x female reader #jake seresin x reader

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billthedrake · 11 months

Text

SLUT SHORTS

It was another of those nights. He was working late, I had made a quick and easy dinner for myself before plopping myself on the couch - muted playoffs hockey on the TV, laptop open to study for my CFA exam. I was planning to take it in two weeks.

I almost didn't hear Dad come in, until he was behind me.

"Hey Evan," he said, stepping up and placing his hands on my shoulder. Dad has strong hands, and they felt great on my tense delts. "Rangers behind already? Shit!" he said.

I looked back over my shoulder. Dad was mostly business casual these days, but he looked hot as fuck. He'd been a hockey player himself in college, and still played in the rec leagues. 6'1" and a solid 210 at 44, he filled out his button down pretty well. He even had to get those special trousers with more room in the thighs and butt.

"Yeah, fraid so," I said. "Long day, Dad?"

He gave a nod and let out a sigh. "Pretty much." He let go of his light grip on my shoulders and gave me a pat. "I'm gonna shower up... maybe someone will score a fucking goal in the meantime."

I laughed. "Don't hold your breath," I said.

I watched a little of the game and went back to studying.

Dad's not my father. He's not even my step dad. But Stephen Bennett and I had been dating for five years and had drifted pretty comfortably into where we were now. Heavy roleplay now colored our identies around the house. I was his Son, and Stephen was my Dad. At first he was responding to my kink, but eventually he began to own that identity himself, to embrace his Dadness with me and around me. He even took the lead in pushing the kink with me.

It was hot in the bedroom, but we'd grown more comfortable with it even on normal nights like this.

Or maybe it wasn't a normal night. When Dad walked in, he was half naked, the chest hair hair still damp from his shower and his thinning hair neatly gelled. But it was those fucking shorts that caught my attention.

They were an orange pair of athletic shorts from his college days, with a black and white stripe on the sides and "Princeton" written in small lettering on the leg. I'd first seen them one day when Stephen had slipped them on for some work around the condo. He'd chuckled at how much they turned me on. But if those shorts had ever been a little loose on the guy, they fucking clung to his bigger, middle-aged muscle these days. Hugging Dad's thighs and molding to that meaty ex-hockey jock ass.

Like they did now as Dad walked past me and sat on the couch next to me. He was acting dumb and waiting for my reaction, which was kind of adorable.

I took a look at him, his attention on the TV. I knew he had to be pretty damn horny to want sex over the Rangers in the playoffs, but it had been a few days, and even that had been a quickie BJ swap before work.

I was in some casual sweats, and I was boning up fast. One thing we'd had to negotiate as a couple was that my libido was stronger than his. Not that Stephen lacked sex drive, but well, I was 28 and maybe genetically swimming in hormones to begin with. Three days was way too long to go without sex and my cock was now rock hard and throbbing even at the idea.

And yeah, those shorts were turning me the fuck on. Now that Dad was sitting, leaning forward a little as he watched the game, the hem rode up the thighs, showing off the man's hairy legs. I was hard wired for older guys for a million reasons, but legs like that were one of them. They were an older man's legs, a dad's legs. Even the curly-soft leg for a middle-aged man was different than a younger guy's.

"In the fucking goal!" he swore at the TV. Maybe he wasn't playing dumb, maybe he was gonna put out in another hour, after the game was over. Jesus, now I wasn't sure I could wait that long.

Dad had quickly learned how much those shorts did it for me. He'd wear them in the bedroom sometimes to spice things up. I'd branded them his "slut shorts" and the name stuck. Stephen Bennett wasn't remotely a submissive or anything - the man was too type-A and too much a control freak for that - and we were still negotiating my desire to top with his vers nature.

But from time to time he'd get in a VERY bottomy mood with me. Those shorts were our little playful code. When Dad had them on, I was gonna get majorly laid.

My laptop was open but completely ignored now as I stared at him. He had just enough of a normal look to him that made his muscular, in-shape body perfect to me. Dad had been married once, to a woman, and had one short relationship with a guy before me. But he had never done the gay scene and not really even done the apps that much. We'd met at an alumni event and had an immediate sexual chemistry. I'd just graduated from Princeton and was at my starter job in the city, and I had every bit of that D-1 jock look that Stephen went for.

"Sorry to distract you, son," Dad now grinned, turning toward me during a commercial break and acknowledging the obvious. "But I figured you could use a study break." He leaned back and stretched his arms up, revealing thick, soft pit hair and flexing his chest muscles some. I could see Dad was throwing hard in those shorts, which added to my excitement. Their snugness meant that thick dad bone showed pretty clearly.

I put my laptop on the coffee table and turned toward him, showing off my erection. "Fuck yes," I chuckled.

Dad seemed to know where my interest lay and he turned toward me. "I think your cum washed out of these," he smirked.

I'd started traveling for work some, and Dad always slipped these shorts into my bag if I had an overnight trip. Or he'd leave them out for me when he traveled. I'd jerk off into them while we FaceTimed, an incredible way to stay close to him.

I wouldn't have to settle for that now. "You wanna suck my dick, Dad?" I asked. Sometimes crude and direct didn't work for Dad, but those shorts had given me permission.

He got a hungry look in his eye. Miraculously, the Rangers were the last thing on his mind as he faced away from the TV and scooted over and down onto the floor in front of where I was sitting. His strong hands now pawed at my crotch. "My big boy need taking care of?"

I had about an inch on Dad, which turned us both on. "Yeah," I croaked.

Dad pulled my waistband over my hardon, then peeled my boxer briefs down to let me free. "That's a hard fucking cock," he grunted. I watched him look at it a second and enjoyed the feedback loop between my visible excitement and his appreciative stare. Then he leaned down and angled up my meat to start sucking me.

I could see the thinning spot on the top of his head as he started swallowing, then bobbing on my cock, and the meaty shoulders and knotted back... and past that that amazing thick ass filling out those shorts. I'm pretty sure my dick spurted a healthy amount of pre into Dad's throat as he took me deeper.

"Holy fuck, Dad!" I gasped. The man was taking me real fricking deep, all the way to the pubes. He wasn't always able to do this, at least not without tripping a defensive gag or two in the process of slowly willing himself to relax. No hesitation or gradual approach now. Dad was deep throating me, and showing off with long mouth strokes up my 7.5 inches to match the hungry descent down. Stephen must have been thinking about sex all day, he was just so keyed up now.

I ran my hands along his strong back. I felt I could nut just having him give me head, and fast. And I would have loved that. But the slut shorts were on, and I was gonna take advantage of them.

"Pull off, Dad," I urged. "Please."

Dad had to catch his breath as he wiped his chin and lips. It had been a messier blow job than he'd like. Dad was real self conscious about that for some reason. I don't know why, the thick spit on his face turned me the fuck on.

"Give me a second?" he asked, leaning back so I could see his hairy torso and that exec-handsome face.

"Sure," I said. I leaned back and let my boner pulse, wet with his viscous saliva. On top of that I was leaking hard now.

I worried, he was getting out of the mood, but he stood up and I could see that dad dick poking up his shorts. It was incredible how they fit, but barely. The fabric drew up tight against Dad's boner. He was already stepping in to rub my face into it.

I grunted as I chewed and licked at that hard ridge in the fabric. Something about these shorts, and Dad in them, connected the jocks I went to college with the draw to a paternal figure. I wish I could have seen Dad wear these when he was 20, but I was also glad he was much older than me, that I wa seeing the shorts on him now.

Dad was getting into how excited I was. Playfully he gripped the back of my head and guided me all over his own excited crotch. "That's it, Evan, buddy. See how horny you get your father."

THIS had been a surprise. How much Stephen could run with the verbal. He'd been the one initially hesitant to do the roleplay, but now he was better at the spontaneous kink talk than me. I did my best to keep up.

"Fuck yes," I hissed finally pulling off. "The dick that made me."

That got a growl from the man. "Don't forget that, son," he hissed. Then I watched as he slid down the shorts, after he worked the elastic over the hard staff of his prick. I'd never get tired of seeing Stephen's dick. I considered it cosmic fate that nature had given us two cocks that looked pretty similar, as if we were related. Dad was medium-thick and pretty evenly thick up its length, with only a slight bend to the right, like mine. Even his balls seemed to be the size and shape like mine.

I thought he was wanting some oral service himself, but his hand stopped my forward motion and even pushed me back a little, into the couch cushions.

"Lean back, son," Dad said, his voice getting that deeper lusty quality. "Daddy needs a fuck."

I looked up, horniness and maybe a little cockiness in my eye. I loved fucking Dad. If I had my way, I'd fuck him every day. But relationships aren't about getting your way all the time.

That's OK, I was gonna have a hot piece of ex-hockey ass to tap now. Dad was already straddling my waist. In his worked up, power-bottom mode I didn't get to see nearly enough. His body felt warm, maybe a little damp from the shower still. He'd started wearing my actual father's cologne and had it on now, and the scent hit my nostrils like poppers. Next to his slut shorts, that smell was one of my big triggers.

I was still mostly clothed, with a T-shirt on and sweatpants pulled down mid-thigh. But Dad wasn't gonna let me strip off. His lips met mine hungrily, and his hands gripped my neck to pull me into the liplock.

I ran my hands along his leg fur, appreciating that strong muscle beneath. And yeah, I felt up that hockey-playing ass.

Dad was now humping me, running his ass along my boner as we made out. He was usually too self conscious to do anything like this, anything so slutty. But he was all in now.

I grunted into his mouth and pawed at every bit of daddy that I could. This had the sexual attraction and horniness of our first time having sex together, combined with the sexual chemistry we'd honed over the last few years.

Dad knew I loved to eat him out, but he also knew he was too worked up to take slow tonight. I could feel the slickness of lube in his crack and against my prick now.

I'd barely registered the implications of that before Dad broke the kiss and leaned back a little, just enough to be able to reach back and grab my prick and pull it up. He angled his hips up and adjusted his alignment.

I watched, keeping still, letting him guide me in. Then I saw Dad's face get that succession of reactions to the penetration. At last there was that knowing smile he'd get when he'd gotten past the difficult part.

"You glad to be back home, Baby boy?" he hissed.

"Yes, sir," I growled. "You have no idea." I placed my hands on his outer thighs to feel his up and down motion. The feeling of his hole was snug and amazing.

"I have a hunch," he replied. Getting more vigorous in his ride. He'd gone from 0 to 60 pretty fast. We were fucking. "My hot incest fucker."

"Jesus," I said, amazed how Dad knew what to say to work me up. He'd been reading porn stories or something, because his imagination caught me off guard.

Dad rode me and we kissed again. That was great, but Dad found the more upright seated position easier so he retreated to that. His hand was a little lubey now and that helped him stroke himself in time to his bouncing.

I now met him half way, pushing my hips up into him in time to meet his own downward bounce. "I love fucking you, Dad. So much."

His lips curled up. "Yeah, I know you do, son. Love your father's tight hole.... You've been working so hard, studying so hard... you deserve a treat... for being a good fucking boy."

God Stephen knew how to get me there. My cock felt slicker from my precum and I was thrusting into him harder, taking over more than 50 percent of this fuck. "Yeah, I am," I replied. I wished I was actually better at the verbal, but I at least wanted to encourage Dad in this. "Your good son."

"Yeah... you're gonna ace that exam... make your daddy proud."

"Yessir!" I grunted. God he was getting me closer now.

"Is that what you want, son? To make your Dad proud?"

"I do sir," I replied. "So bad."

The man's voice was getting more strained as he rode me, relishing the deep and hard penetration and what it was doing to his inner spot. "Proud... Just like when you won that golf scholarship.... Just like when you throw me one of those Big Boy fucks..."

I thought his sex talk was for my benefit mostly, but I watched his face scrunch and then heard him let out a short, loud cry. And then Dad's dick started spray his seed all over me. Hard, hot, spray that landed in a thick ropes on my T-shirt, soaking it.

"Oh fuck, Dad!" I cried, feeling my own cum hit me as I started seeding his tight ass.

My hips stopped and his riding slowed down, until he rested in my lap momentarily, just enjoying that moment before it was time to climb off. "Thanks, Evan," he said. "I needed that."

I watched with some disappointment as Dad got up, steadying his body before he found his discarded shorts and picked them up. "I'm gonna clean up, OK, buddy?"

This was the thing we'd been working on. When we started I was his buddy, his big guy, his special dude during the sex act, but Evan afterwards. Now we'd learned to extend it afterward. Of not automatically switching back to our "real" selves.

"Yeah," I said, patting his calf muscle as I leaned up. I saw the glob of dad sperm on his knuckle and impetuously decided to lick it off. Dad turned his hand to let me and chuckled a little. After I'd sampled his sperm, he patted me on the side of my head.

"I love you, buddy," he said softly.

"Love you, Dad," I replied.

He went to shower, and I pulled my sweats back up over my lubed and spermy dong. I'd change in a bit, but for now, I relished being covered in my father's seed. And I was enjoying the moment of relaxation.

The Rangers had scored one but were still behind. My laptop was in sleep mode, neglected. I probably wouldn't get much studying done tonight.

Dad walked in, those shorts back on.

He didn't play dumb this time. "I figured you'd have another in the tanks for later. But OK if I watch the game first?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Dad," I said, putting my arm on the back of the couch as an invitation for him to sit close to me. He did and I enjoyed his warmth and more mature body next to mine. I threw hard again a couple of times during the rest of the game, just feeling him like that and seeing those shorts on him.

But no need to rush things. I had my father right there next to me.

#drakestories

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thenightmarketofdathomir · 2 years

Text

Evidence in the Aftermath

A few contemplations regarding your Zabrak lover (reader's afab cis.)

Warning: This is fucking filthy, kids, but would you expect anything less from your alien space boyfriend? I wouldn't.

Sliding into a hot bath, the scrapes on the insides of your thighs sting a little. You'd forgotten about them, but the hot water's a reminder of the tiny scuffed runnels left behind from having a head crowned with horns between your thighs for the night. He warned you not to close your legs around his head, but you couldn't help it. He held you down by the knees so you wouldn't hurt yourself when you came on his tongue, but you still managed to take a little skin off on his horns.

Three orgasms should've left you sated, but it's six hours later and you're still wet just thinking about him. Everything's tender: the stripe from your clit to the pucker of your ass raw and a little swollen, and a little heavy from being so karking needy. You're pretty sure touching yourself to him won't do it for you either: Zabrak cock ridges set a particular rhythm when they ripple past your pussy lips — the pleasure they inspire outweighing the prospect that a hard fuck will ruin your body for any other species. He knew it too: that's why he was sure to make you come on him a few times so you'd remember how easy it was to enjoy it but not how difficult it was to warm up.

He borrowed your fingernail clippers and they're still sitting on the sink where he left them. Took off his claws to prepare you for his cock, and the thought of his fingers leaves you waffling over the sort of depravity he demanded: not just your cunt, but your mouth, your throat, your ass: all places he was intent on warming to his touch with a few deft strokes to see how receptive you were. He put you over his knee to play with your body, filling you up with one, then two, then three, murmuring for you to play with yourself while he stroked and squeezed and stretched you out -- your thighs wide and knees shaking, murmuring words of encouragement in low, silky tones: You take it so well. You clench so easily. Why don't you come for me so I can see your pussy get fucked like this? Touch your clit for me. There you go.

When you drag yourself back to bed and the rumple of your sheets, some of them half-off the ground, pillows askew, there's still evidence of your lovemaking smeared across them. Everything needs a wash, but the scent of him still lingers on the pillows — a few wounds too, his horns meting out the same sort of damage to your bedclothes as they did your body. Doesn't matter. This time, nothing feathered. The come on the sheets is a waste, though. Next time, you think, you'll do better. Your mouth fills with spit just thinking about tasting him, your knees still a little sore, and your jaw too. A cup of tea with honey might cure the soreness in your throat, the raw rasp of your voice the mark of a blow job well done, but you think to keep it for now. There are worse things than sounding a little hoarse.

All these little aches are marks of pleasure; time spent well with a lover who will return after not too long, when night falls and the Twins rise once more. And sure, a smear of bacta or a hit from a stim would take care of the shiver and the shudder of your limbs, but it's just as good to remember what you've done with him when your muscles ache and the bruises are still a little tender.

He loves finding you with his marks in places too — subtle possessions that remind him, when he returns, of where he's been, and what's left to conquer.

#Darth Maul #Savage Opress #Feral Opress #Maul #Darth Maul Smut #Savage Opress Smut #Feral Opress Smut #Star Wars Smut #Darth Maul x Reader #Maul x Reader #Savage Opress x Reader #Feral Opress x Reader #Darth Maul x You #Savage Opress x You #Feral Opress x You #Maul x You

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blae-kitta · 22 days

Text

Zoro 🐯 Process:

Commentary below:

Notes:

One of the first attempts at sculpting the boy; the head was later altered quite a bit and the legs entirely scrapped, and the torso bulked up shaking my shoulders feverishly: we need to properly represent his 110 cm bust and what we have isn't cutting it. Scabbards were made (which survived till the end!) and the original clay swords were made by this point.

New torso and legs give (hallelujah), as well as the loops and holes for the ears (such finicky small work, fuck me) were made. Holes were first made with straight wire and dried before the hoops were gently (and with swearing) inserted through.

Clothes added, also with swearing as the clay dried and stiffened faster then I wanted to and made it hard to get nice folds. Scarf was re-made and smoothed later.

Scabbards added! Immediately drops it and breaks a piece of it off. I've glued multiple bits of the scabbards back on the flimsy bastards. He remained armless for a good while. A Venus on the shelf by my desk...

Because the clay sword (after a good hour of tender focused work) would IMMEDIATELY would break upon the lightest touch, annoying me to no end, one evening was like God I wish I had actual metal to use instead wouldn't that be cool, and then was like OH! I COULD DO THAT! So the metal is actually cut from the tin of a cat food can, straightened and sanded., as seen in photo!

The blades hilted, before placed in capable hands

ARMS! and the sculpting is finished. Onto painting!

First layers of paint on various parts; I generally paint via colours I'm using at the moment (ie, greens in this instance)

More layers laid down. I generally go for shading in rules of three (main colour, lighter, and darker hues) and apply them at different opacity of acrylic. Adjusted the green since I found it too pungent. Once the fur tones were finished I gave him his stripes (cue me searching up loads of photos of tigers and tiger fursonas to see how people have done the stripes. Did you know depending on the area they are from they have different face shapes and stripe patterns? Fascinating stuff)

Finished project! Last layers, and highlights where added, adjusted the eye and fuck-ups re-adjusted. Dropped and had to reglue things. The gold is actual gold leaf I applied using a glue you paint on but that was a bit of a whole mess and took a long time, and doesn't go on very flat on very not-flat surfaces... (Who would have thought...) In the future may instead use gold paints for metallics.

Here's also the link to the post of more photos of him finished!

#one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #op zoro #zoro figure #op figures #hugin scribbles #hugin sculpts #hugin wip #op fanart #one piece #furry art #anthro #furry #tiger zoro #not sure if people find this interesting but i do so. BEHOLD MY PROCESS #i have like zero knowledge on actual sculpting of figures. i just do it and go well. sure that works #should watch some doll making vids or something to pick up better techniques. hm #theres something so clean and nice about the non+painted versions. pure #god when i firsy put down the green i was like. oh this looks SO much like someones unrealistic lime green tiger fursona #muting the tones a bit helped with that. and the stripes #was a bit annoyed with the stripes at first cause i was like oh no thats too realistic but i think it looks good that way #not pictured is me swearing while working on his fucking earrings #theyre brass wire with the caly and holy shit the clay is so finicky when its that small. the length of time it took to do them.#did them like three times separately and then also LOST ONE and then had to also apply the adhesive for the gold foil and the gold foil #never again for something that small.#but at the same time oooo fuck yeah onto the next project. that hopefully WONT take me like 8 fucking months

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the-common-cowgirl · 7 months

Text

It’s Only Forever, Not Long at All…

Chapter 2: Magic Dance

Labyrinth AU Mini-Series.

Goblin King!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen

Summary: Aemond watches you try to solve the Labyrinth. He eases your sister’s unhappiness with a song, perhaps he can ease yours as well.

Warnings: Mentions of male arousal, one single swear word.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Hope y’all like this chapter. ❤️

Series Masterlist

Aemond sits upon his throne in the castle, high above the Goblin city. His long, lean legs carelessly thrown over the sides of the throne. His eye, his seeing eye, was cast upon the crystal orb dancing in his hand, the other, preoccupied hand thrummed across his leather-clad tights on thigh muscles. The crystal showed him you, wandering about his maze in search of the very room he sat in, with his goblins and your baby sister in her striped pajamas.

The goblins play with the babe in his peripheral, showing her different sewn dolls, trying to get her to stop her incessant wailing. Eventually, her crying becomes so shrill it distracts Aemond and he straightens himself on the throne before standing and flicking the wrist of the hand the orb danced in, making it disappear out of the thinnest air. His gaze is dark, unyielding, yet unreadable. He saunters toward the child and the goblins look up to him, gulping in fear as they had failed in their attempts to quiet the child, fear of Aemond’s wrath.

Aemond tilts his head, hovering, staring down at the girl who’s sitting on the stone floor, still crying aimlessly. He gently squats down, scooping her up, she’s in his arms as he holds her gently as he rises, kicking one of the three goblins that had tried to soothe her and failed. He settles the girl on his hip, holding her in one hand as he procures the crystal orb once again to show the child her sister who was trying to save her from the very man that held her.

“Your sister,” Aemond begins to the babe who clearly does not understand, “is currently wandering around my Labyrinth trying to get to you.” The babe ceases crying but the stale tears still run. Aemond holds the crystal higher to Sarah’s face, showing her you, turning around a corner, the same corner you had been turning for the past half hour, though you hadn’t realized that. The Labyrinth was playing tricks on you, or was it Aemond? He smiled in amusement at your struggle as he watched you with your sister.

“You remind me of the babe,” Aemond sing-songed toward Sarah, trying to get her quiet crying to cease gently.

What babe?

The goblins heard his voice, the start of the song and they began singing from there. Sarah looked around, tears cooling on her cheeks to the show in front of her, singing, strumming, and dancing goblins around the throne room. The goblins must have done this before, for it seemed well rehearsed, even to an infant who did not understand.

Aemond brought his hand up, showing Sarah the crystal orb yet again, “What do you say Sarah? Shall we help your sister along?” Sarah began to giggle manically, seeing her elder sister once again in the glass ball. Aemond hummed, “I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could do,” sweetly and closely to your sister as he held her on his hip, still showing you to her through the crystal in his gloved hand. You were now sitting down on the stone ground of the Labyrinth, beginning to cry in failure as you had realized you were getting nowhere.

Crying hard as babe could cry.

Aemond smirked at your tears, “What could I do?”

My baby’s love had gone, and left my baby blue.

The chorus of goblins erupted, “Nooooo-bodyyyyy kneeewwwww.”

Aemond pulled your baby sister closer to him, who had stopped crying in confusion, asking her in his sing-song voice, “What kind of magic spell to use?”

Slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder and lighting

Aemond smiled, asking your sister as she began to smile her toothy smile, “Then baby said…”

The crystal displaying you to your sister vanished, Aemond took your sister in both hands as he began to waltz around carefully with her on your hip. Sarah was laughing.

Dance, magic dance.

The goblins had erupted into a cheerful chorus as they danced around the room and Aemond carefully spun slowly with your sister who had begun to laugh wildly at the scene and the movements in which Aemond was doing. Long had she forgotten why she was crying in the arms of this strange man.

Since she had settled down, now happy and content in this strange place, Aemond set her in the middle of the room, in a blanketed pit where goblins were still dancing and singing, making Sarah laugh.

Put that baby’s spell on me~

Aemond smiled at the scene before turning, his long silver hair swaying as he strode away in contemplation toward the hall to the throne room. Shutting the door behind him, the music of the goblins was muted slightly by the heavy wooden door. He procured the crystal orb yet again, watching as you were crying, much like your sister had just been - like a baby. A sad little girl, in over her head.

As he walked down the hall toward his own chambers, he was in deep contemplation over what to do. He felt pulled to help you, to soothe your crying, as he had just done for your sister. A large portion of his conscience told him to let you fail, just as he had let hundreds of other girls before you who had spoken the words to summon him, take their burdens away. Why now did he feel a small, strange voice saying to help you along the Labyrinth, if only to stop your crying, to ease your sadness and hopelessness.

As he pushed the doors to his chamber open, he had internally decided then, to help you. “What trouble of mine is it to help her so early in this journey anyhow?” He spoke to himself, moreso, the strange small voice speaking to him. He sat on his lush, fabric coated bed that sunk heavily when his full weight was upon it. A hand on the crystal to watch you, another waving over the crystal, using the divine magic of the realm he created, to help you along the Labyrinth, if only for a short while.

As you sat on the dusty, stone ground of the Labyrinth, you heard something, like stone scraping, as you looked up from where your face was buried in your hands, wiping your eyes free of the hot tears to see clearly where the sound had come.

The stones had changed, red arrows every few tiles pointed a way for you to follow. You took in a deep breath, stilling your rapidly beating heart, contemplating if this was another one of the Labyrinth’s tricks. Then, realizing you had no other leads; no other option. You might as well investigate and see where these arrows led you.

Standing, you set off in the path the arrows take you. Around twists and corners, in areas you look like you’ve seen before and areas you definitely had not. You speed up and suddenly you’re moving almost too fast for the stone titles as you see them flipping and goblins underneath are the ones turning them. You slow down and wonder, as a path of arrows is laid before you, why are the goblins helping you? Did their king make them? A smile begins to creep upon your face. “Maybe he wants me to succeed…”

Aemond watches you, sitting on his plush bed, and a smile begins to creep upon his own face for the mere fact that he was able to take your hopelessness away, dry your tears, and help you get a step closer to him.

He wonders, gazing upon you making your way upon the path he sent you on, why this brought him joy. Why helping you made his heart warm and color appear on his porcelain cheeks. Then without warning, his body answers for him as he feels his aching cock twitch in his leather tights.

He takes a deep sigh, understanding now why he’s so enamored by your happiness.

Lust. Simply lust.

He gazes back into the crystal orb, silently wondering if you were the one. The one to ease this ache of loneliness he’s felt for a long time, a very long time.

“No,” he answers to himself, “Just another girl…in over her head.”

Although far away from it now, Aemond could still hear the goblins chanting the song he had started.

Dance, magic dance,

Dance magic dance…

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! As always, reblog, comments and likes are appreciated but not necessary! ❤️

Taglist: @sassysaxsolo @fan-goddess @helaenaluvr

#fanfic #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #gameofthrones #smut #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #labyrinth #aemond #aemond x reader #goblin king aemond #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #Spotify

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

BRO U NEEDDDDD TO MAKE A PRICE X GRAVES SMUT DEAR GOD

Gonna use this to also fulfil another request I got.

~~~~~

Price slipped his belt from its loops and held it loosely in his hands, noticing how tense Graves became as soon as he noticed.

"What happened? Where did all that confidence go?" Price chided, looking him up and down.

Graves swallowed thickly. "I... um..."

"Come on, Phillip." He popped the p at the end, knowing that Graves hated that name. Could see it in the way it made him squirm. "What were you yelling at me about?"

Graves shook his head slightly. "Nothing, sir." He licked his lips, glancing at the belt and then back to Price's face.

It was a fun game. Price always won.

"What are you going to do with that, sir?" He asked it innocently, like he didn't know exactly what was about to happen. Price grinned.

"Graves, be a good boy and undress."

"Sir, we have a meeting in an hour and..."

"And what?" Price stared at him. "Lock the door while you're at it. I don't want any interruptions." He lit a cigar, watching him ferally. Graves couldn't say no. He followed every order, locking the door and taking off his clothes, folding each item and putting them on his chair. A flush was growing on his body, but he did as told. Even bent over the bed without having to be ordered.

Price smiled. "See you're getting better. Trying so hard." He teased condescendingly, watching Graves squirm more. His hands went behind his back and Price gave in to the urge to ghost his hand over his back, loving the way he leaned in and tried to get every touch he could.

"Isn't this better than being a brat? Can get what you want a lot easier this way, ya know?" He folded the belt in his hand. He grabbed a handful of his ass, taking his time to just admire him. "Really are a pretty sight when you're not acting out."

"Maybe if you gave me enough attention, I wouldn't have to yell to get it." Graves mumbled and Price immediately used the belt on him, making him whimper. The red stripe looked so nice against the pale skin and Price bit back a groan. He took a moment to take a puff of his cigar.

"Keep quiet. Don't want the whole base to know what I do to you in here." He hit him again, watching the flush grow redder on his cheeks. His eyes were already glazing, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"Count."

"You're on two, sir." Graves's voice had a breathy quality to it, almost a whine. It was intoxicating, just how easy Price could break the man down like he was nothing.

"Good boy." He watched Graves preen under the praise, adjusting his ass so it was a little more on display. Cute was the first word to come to Price's mind as he patted his hip before hitting him again.

"Three..." Graves whined. Price hit harder each time, enjoying how bright the marks could get.

Price got him up to seven before Graves started to tear up, voice trembling the tiniest bit as he took another hit. And then another. Then the tenth.

"Ten... How many more, sir?" Oh, Price loved that tone. The soft voice, the way he looked up at him with big blue eyes.

"That's all for now." Price grabbed him and flipped him on his back, shoving his legs open. "Now I get a reward for putting up with your behavior." This was far more teasing and Graves knew it, smiling slightly and tilting his head back. It gave Price room to bite and nip along his throat, making large marks that would take days to heal. Graves wrapped his legs around Price's hips, trying to pull him closer. Price took his cigar and put it in Graves's mouth, watching him hold it carefully.

Despite the hard treatment, Graves was hard against Price's stomach, begging for attention. Price quickly got his clothes off, Graves helping him with his shirt. He grabbed the lube and coated his fingers, letting Graves wrap his legs around him again.

Not wanting to risk it, he snubbed the cigar and tossed it on the bedside table. Normally he'd be more careful, but Graves was whining and hesitantly feeling up his sides and how could a man think?

Graves's mouth fell open, just the slightest bit and Price pressed his thumb to his lip, letting him press his tongue to the digit. All the while, Price's fingers pushed their way in and started to pump inside him, getting him prepped.

"Please, sir." Graves mumbled, hands resting gently on his shoulders. Ironically, that was something Price was trying to break him of. In his previous relationships, Graves had been told not to touch too much.

Price guided one of his hands to his hair and his other to his back, pulling his fingers out of him. Graves pulled him down for a kiss, trying to pull them impossibly closer.

It was an awkward position at first, but Price didn't want to pull away either. He pushed into him slowly, hearing Graves moan at the feeling.

"Doing so well. You know, if you like being spanked so much, you could just ask."

"Where's the fun in that?" Graves kissed him, pushing his tongue in his mouth. He tasted like a mix of the cigar and the tea, the iced kind that Price hated on principal, he always drank and Price couldn't help the tiny groan that slipped out.

"One day, I'll get you to behave." Price pulled away, keeping a grip on Graves's hair to prevent him from leaning back up. He rolled his hips, watching Graves relax and moan softly. He avoided his prostate and took it to slow for Graves to enjoy it. It took the man longer than it should to notice and he was immediately whining about it.

"Sir please... Fuck me properly." Graves panted, chest shuddering slightly.

"You should get more tattoos. Maybe one of my name." Price ignored him, continuing the slow drag of his hips.

"Anything you want just please..." Graves whimpered, turning his face away. He tried to clench and grind himself against Price, but it was ineffective, mostly just ignored. Price smiled softly at him, watching the man below him become more desperate. "What do you want? Anything! I'm telling you exactly what you want like you tell me to do."

Price hummed. "You are... I suppose I should be rewarding good behavior."

Graves nodded immediately.

"So what do you want?"

Graves paused, having just enough thought to realize a trap. "Fuck me harder. Please. Sir."

Price nodded and grabbed his hips, slamming into him. Graves let out a strangled shout and twisted his head away. His hands though, were roaming all over Price's body, desperate for every touch he could get.

Price was rough, grabbing his hips and fucking him harder and harder. Graves started crying, whimpering. He finally hit his prostate and Graves fell properly apart, nails digging into Price's arms as he desperately held on.

Price kissed him hard, teeth clashing against each other and Graves's legs wrapped tighter around him, pulling him flush against his chest.

"May I, sir?" Graves sounded shaky, ruined and pathetic. Exactly how Price liked his men.

"Since you asked nicely, you can." Price purred at him, watching him make a mess of himself. Graves held him close, letting him use him until he finished as well.

"Shit. We're going to be late."

Graves whined when he said that but let him pull away, looking up at him. He took all of his directions from him, first they got cleaned up, then dressed and finally acted like Price hadn't just fucked every braincell Graves had out of him.

"Don't yell during this meeting and I'll spank you again." Price lightly slapped his ass and Graves winced, still sensitive.

"Yes, sir."

#cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare ii #phillip graves #phillip graves smut #john price #captain john price #graves x price

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sissyndfw · 1 month

Text

Chapter 2 - Allie Confesses

Travis brought me a towel and I cleaned up as much cum as I could. I kissed him again and whispered in his ear, when we get back tonight I'm going to suck your cock, I flicked his ear with my tongue and handed him my panties, I want you to wear these while we're gone. As I walked away I looked back and lifted my skirt, his cum was leaking out of me and running down my legs, look what you did to me I said. I made my way to the master bath and Allie was doing her makeup. I said I was running late so I'm going to shower here, as I pulled off my cum soaked shirt and skirt and tossed them on the floor.

I hope she doesn't see all this cum leaking out of my ass I thought to myself as I stepped into the water and relaxed letting Travis's cum flow out of me. A quick rinse and I was good as new, I dried off and noticed Allie was looking at my dick in the mirror as she did her lips. Do you remember that time in college I asked, Allie blushed and responded, of course Jessica, you little slut. I laughed as I went into the closet to find something sexy to wear. I picked out a cute see through thong and a short teal skirt with some striped stockings that matched.

I touched up my makeup and put my hair back, hurry up bitch, I said to Allie, I'm ready to go. I went out to the living room and found my cock cage. I locked up my little sissy clit and put my flip flops on. I sat on the couch and surfed Tumblr, replying to some hot messages as I waited.

Allie was finally ready and our Uber was waiting. I yelled back at Travis as we walked to the street, you better be good, we're going to get Allie drunk and you know how horny she gets. She slapped my arm as we laughed together. We got to the bar, and guess what, Sarah was already there and it looked like she already had a few shots. We piled into the corner both with her and ordered a round. After a few hours of talking about our boring day to day the topic came up of Sarah's new boyfriend, Derek.

Sarah started telling Allie about what had happened between the three of us and how hot it was watching Derek fuck me. Allie's expression was priceless as Sarah went into great detail about how big her orgasm was and how she squirted pee right into my mouth. You dirty little fucking slut, Allie screamed over the loud room as we all laughed about it. Is his cock really that much bigger Allie asked seriously. Ohhhh my God, both Sarah and I reacted at the same time, yes girl, his cock is fucking huge. Allie's jaw dropped as she looked at us with curiosity. I've never seen a big black cock, she exclaimed as she stared at the two of us across the table.

I have a confession and I will probably regret telling y'all this but fuck it, Allie explained. We all leaned over to table together. She went on, Travis has been saying that he wants to watch me with a black guy. He wants me to fuck a black guy and then lick the cum out of my pussy. Fucking do it girl, Sarah yelled out, he's giving you the okay to fuck a black guy and you haven't done it already? I'm scared, Allie responded, I've never done anything like that before, the craziest thing I've ever done is that night in college with Jessica. Sarah laughed, that's high school stuff Allie, you let Jessica eat your ass, she's one of us even though she has a little sissy cock, aren't you bitch? Sarah reached up my skirt and grabbed my cage, she's got her little clitty all locked up like a good girl. You should hear Derek talk about how this dirty slut took all 12 inches of his big black cock down her throat. The memory of Derek's big cock pumping cum into my tummy caused my little dick to start throbbing.

Come pee with me Allie asked as she got up and grabbed my hand. We scurried off to the bathroom. Allie pulled me into the stall as she squatted and started peeing. I can't belive Sarah is being so mean to you Jessica, she said as she finished and pulled up her panties. We traded places and I started peeing. I'm so jealous of your little cock, it's so easy for you to pee, she said as she reached around me to grab it. Can I hold it while you pee she said into my ear, okay I replied. She took control of my caged dick as she looked over my shoulder and aimed the stream of pee at the toilet. That's so much fun, she exclaimed, as the last few drops dribbled out. I wonder what it would be like using a strap on she said as I turned and faced her, her hand still grasping my cage. She grabbed the back of my head and kissed me deeply. Do you think Travis would like that she asked. Yes, and if he doesn't, you can peg me while he watches, I replied. We kissed again and then straightened up to head back to the booth.

As soon as we got back Sarah started in again, did y'all fuck in there, that took forever, she slurred. Are you jealous, all this talk about big cocks made me horny, Allie replied. Suddenly the lights came on in the bar, last call they announced. We settled up with the waitress and walked Sarah out to the street, as she was pretty wasted. Her Uber pulled up and we helped her into the back. I'm going over to Derek's she said. Tell him I said hi I replied as I motioned like I was sucking a big cock and closed the door.

Our Uber pulled up next and we climbed in the back to head back to Allie's house. She started making out with me and pulled my hand between her legs, I'm so horny she confessed as I rubbed her pussy with my finger gently. Let's save this for Tyler I told her as I circled her clit, we'll be home in a few minutes and I bet he will want to play with us. Allie moaned at the thought of what was about to happen.

#sissy for bbc #transgurl #bbc #eat my entire ass #eat my pussy #faggot sissy #femboys #free use slvt #gangb4ng

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bratshaws · 2 years

Text

goodness gracious 9. brb x oc

(yes im repeating this gif cause i fucking love it )

a/n:

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: absolute fucking fluff with a dash of suggestive content.

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj

Unlike before the barbecue, Bea set three different outfits on her bed for her date with Rooster three hours before he actually got there. She still couldn’t believe it, cupping her cheeks as she bounced on the spot excitedly, giggling like a teenager. He asked her out, he wanted to ask her out, it wasn’t some sort of prank. He genuinely did!!

So she took her time, trying on each outfit and sending the pictures to Shells. The chosen one was a black,yellow and blue striped top that wasn’t short enough to be considered a crop top but it exposed a tiny bit of her stomach, with high waisted dark denim shorts. She suggested for Bea to slide on some dark stockings since the temperature could drop a bit and it’d match her combat boots.

She ignored Shells’ message of ‘take condoms!!!’ however. She hummed to herself, dressing up without much hurry, then taking her time putting on her makeup. The Royal Red lipstick spread over her full lips, clicking the tube shut she took one last look at her reflection, fluffing her hair so it’d look more voluminous.

“Red is a good color on you.”

Her cheeks darkened as she remembered his words from yesterday. She took in a deep breath, releasing it through her crimson colored lips before she shook herself out of her stupor. “Okay…” she looked down at her phone, seeing he’d be there in just a few minutes, “Okay! Okay.” with one final look and a deep breath for courage, she walked out of her bathroom down the staircase.

Jolene looked up from her spot on the couch, long tail thumping on the cushion, “Jo, you behave okay? I’ll be back later.” she presses tiny kisses to the pitbull’s head, before she hears a car park outside. She straightens herself, grabbing her purse only to close her eyes and try to swallow down her anxiety.

The knock on her door makes Jolene leap out of the couch, her butt wiggling as she sniffs through the crack, “Jo.” she gently pushes her away with her leg, before opening the door. It wasn’t so different from his usual wardrobe, Hawaiian shirt, white tank, but he seemed so much more attractive. He was leaning on the door frame with his elbow, while his other arm stayed behind his back.

He looked at her through his sunglasses, then tilted them down his nose with the tip of his index finger, “Hi.”

She smiled nervously, “Hi.”

When he moved the arm behind his head, she didn’t really know what to expect, but her eyes widened when he pulled out a small bouquet: daisies and lavenders, wrapped in a light yellow paper. She gasped, grabbing it as if it was the most precious thing she had ever seen, looking up at him with amazement, “You got me flowers…I-I never got flowers before.”

“I aim to change that,” he says smoothly, smirking at her, “You look gorgeous.”

Beatrice hides her face in the bouquet, her cheeks burning, “Thank you…you look…really nice too…u-um I’m going to–” she gestures vaguely inside, then lifts the flowers, speed walking to her kitchen. She cups her cheeks with her hands, her stomach swirling with butterflies. God, this was going to be the end of her and she’d accept it gladly.

She put the flowers in a jar and set it on her kitchen counter, rushing back out to see Rooster crouched, playfully using his hands to wrestle Jolene while growling at the pitbull who was very happy with the attention. He looks up when he notices her legs getting closer, giving her a toothy grin, “Ready?” she nods and he gives Jo’s tummy a gentle pat, standing to his full height.

He waits for her outside, with his hands in his jeans, watching her lock the door and wave goodbye to her dog through the window. She turns to him, clenching her purse’s strap while biting her lower lip with a smile following him until he opens the passenger door for her, watching until she was inside to close it and walk to his own door, knocking his knuckles on the Bronco with a silly smile on his face.

Rooster gets in, buckling his seatbelt before looking up at her “Well,” he turns the car on, “I know of a cool place, with nice food and great atmosphere.” he begins, removing his sunglasses to slip inside his tank’s collar, “I think you’ll like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” he smiles, throwing her another glance, “You really look gorgeous.”

She blushed again, rubbing her hands over her stockings covered thighs, “Thanks.” he didn’t look for too long, because he was just a warm blooded man and this was their first date. But God damn her thighs looked nice. He didn’t turn on the radio, enjoying the comfortable silence that surrounded them, leading the Bronco through streets and corners until they reached their desired destination.

The name of the restaurant, Trooper, shone in bright lights above them. It seemed to be like a burger joint, not too fancy, but clearly popular if the amount of cars outside was anything to say. He stepped out first, walking around the car to open the door for her, offering her his hand so she could step out. When she did, the wind hit her cheeks briefly before stopping so she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Huh.” she begins, “I think this is close to the theater.” she almost jumps when she feels the warmth of his large hand on her lower back, gently pushing her to walk alongside him.

“Yeah?” he asks, opening the door for her, the bell above their heads ringing “I thought I saw an old theater there.”

“Yeah, they do old movie marathons there sometimes. With souvenirs and such.” she smiles, looking around the joint with wonder. Like a 50’s diner, it’s main colors were red white and black. The booth seats were covered in red vinyl and the tiles were black and white, literal american family ideal. He leads her to a booth between the middle and end of the restaurant, where they’d sit next to the large windows.

She sat down, scooting herself closer to the window while he did the same on the opposite side. The menus were tucked on the corner of their table so he pulled two of them out, handing one over to Bea so they could decide on what to eat.

The waitress, who looked to be right around her mid to late fifties, with poofy blonde hair, blue eyeshadow and red lipstick walked up to their table, “Well, what will the two lovebirds get?” she asked sweetly which made Beatrice blush and smile down at the menu.

“I’ll just get the double burger with extra fries and spicy mayo, with a large coke.” he smiles charmingly, his eyes moving towards Beatrice.

“I think..’she chewed the corner of her lip, “I think I’ll have um…the grilled chicken pesto panini with fries and the lemonade please.” she smiles and the waitress writes down their order on her notepad taking the menus away from them with a wink.

Beatrice leans back on her seat, looking up at the decor with a smile, before meeting his eyes only to find him looking right at her with his interlaced hands in front of his mouth, but it did nothing to hide his smile, “What?”

“Nothin’.” he murmurs, lowering his hands to fold his arms on the table, “Just looking.”

Beatrice’s face turned red and she didn’t know what to do with herself, so she just laughed shyly looking away from him to the window, watching the passerby’s instead. He hums, leaning back on his own seat to run his hand through his hair, “Can I ask you something?” she turns her head towards him with a small smile, “Was it so hard to believe I wanted to go out with you?”

She tensed up, licking her red coated lips, trying to find how to reply “...yeah, honestly.” she shrugs and he frowns, “I didn’t think I’d be…I dunno, someone you’d go for.”

“Why?” he questions, but she just shrugged again, ripping the sides of the napkin to prevent herself from answering. “You are sweet, you are kind, you are gorgeous, why wouldn’t I be interested?”

She bites her lower lip, her long lashes covering her eyes but she’s smiling, “You think so?”

“What?”

“That I’m gorgeous?”

Rooster felt like he’d been slapped, “Of course I do. Only an idiot wouldn’t think so.” Beatrice’s cheeks only got redder but her smile widened, one of her hands playing with the ends of her hair “Look, I don’t know what sort of dumb shit people have been sayin’ to you, but I won’t lie to you. I’d never lie to you. You are gorgeous, I swear.”

Beatrice looked at him through her lashes and she nodded, her chest exploding with butterflies. It felt like a dream she’d never want to wake up. “Thank you.” she whispers, “It…I’m glad um…thanks Rooster.”

Rooster grinned, then leaned closer, “One more thing, but only because you are oh so cute, you don’t have to call me Rooster all the time.” she blinks at him, “You can call me Bradley or Brad or…whatever you’d like. I don’t mind.”

Her smile broadened and he felt like fainting, “Okay,Bradley.” his body immediately reacted to her voice saying his name and he tried to fight back how good it made him feel.

“You’ve never seen Alien?” she asked him in shock, to which he shakes his head negatively, taking a big bite of his burger, some of the spicy mayo sticking to his mustache, “How come?”

“I never took myself to watch it,” he says, slowly chewing his burger, once he swallowed he took a sip of his coke before wiping his lips, “Is it any good?”

“Good? It’s considered to be one of the greatest sci-fi and horror films of all time! Not to mention culturally,historically and aesthetically significant by the Library of Congress!” she stretched her arms for emphasis, “It’s incredible and- and it has Sigourney Weaver in her first big role!”

“The only thing I know it’s those um…” he wiggled his fingers, trying to find the word, “The one you have on your bag, that it's the alien people have to run from.”

“The Xenomorph, yes!” she smiles and he can’t help but smile himself when her face lights up ,”Well, you know half of it then. Do you know why they run from it?” he shakes his head again, “Good, good, no spoilers then…well then, what are a few of your favorite movies?”

Bradley swallowed another bite, pausing to think on it, “Gremlins…but the second one, with Hulk Hogan, where they go to New York. Ghostbusters uh…” she smiles even more, nodding for him to continue, “I don’t know, any movies with Stallone too.”

“You would be a Stallone guy.” she says and he narrows his eyes playfully at her “Do you even like Stop!Or Mom Will Shoot? It has Estelle Getty on it.”

“I don’t think I ever saw that one.”

“I wouldn’t blame you, it was an office bomb.”

“Who’s Estelle Getty?”

Beatrice gasped loudly, even louder than before, placing a hand over her heart in shock, “Who’s Estelle Ge– You’ve never seen the Golden Girls either?” once again, a negative head shake, “Oh my God! Do you at least know who Betty White is?”

“She did that movie with an alligator, didn't she? Where she raised the babies and they got bigger.” she nods, “That one I saw.”

She chuckles, taking another bite of her sandwich, licking her fingers clean when some pesto landed on them, “Golden Girls is one of my favorite shows. It ran from 85 to 92, I used to watch it with my nonna during the weekends I visited her.” her eyes soften and she looks to the side, “Estelle Getty’s character kind of reminds me of my nonna. She was a little spitfire.”

Bradley’s own gaze softened when she spoke about her grandmother - that's one of the few words he knew from Italian - her red covered lips curved up in a smile, “What’s the show about?”

“Oh!” she immediately perked up, “It’s about four women in their golden years who live together in Miami! The show was very progressive by the time. They talked about mental health issues, getting old, having a romantic life while in their old age!” she sighs happily, falling back on her seat, “It’s so, so good. I think I forgot how many times I’ve watched it.”

His whiskey colored eyes just continued looking at her, his chest warming up at her excitement while sharing her interests, which honestly only made him curious to watch them himself. Maybe he would.

He doesn’t know how long they kept talking after that, both of their plates empty and the restaurant only got quieter as people left, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking. Beatrice not only was pretty, kind and unbelievably cute. She was smart and funny, she knew a lot about pop culture, about history and about art, even pausing herself when she felt she was talking more than he was.

But he assured her he didn’t mind, he honestly liked hearing her talk about the things she enjoyed. Weirdly enough, his former relationships never had this much talking involved, at least not with something he could enjoy too. He’s okay talking about the Navy, about being a pilot, it is what he does…but after a while, it gets tiring because it seems that’s all people wanted to know about him. Or even worse, ask him about his parents when he clearly didn’t feel comfortable.

Beatrice never questioned much about what he did, possibly because she knew since she worked at the Hard Deck. She asked him about his interests with genuine curiosity, because she wanted to know his thoughts about it and he couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief when the conversation went for as long as it did.

They decided to leave once they noticed they spent too long just sitting there with their empty plates in front of them. The waitress just gave them a knowing smile when Bradley went up to pay, telling Beatrice not to worry, even adding the ‘please’ at the end of his sentence, much like she did back in Mr.Scoops. She blushed but nodded, standing next to him in silence, the two thanking the waitress before they walked out.

He looked down at his watch, “Holy shit, it’s already nine o’clock.” he laughs, showing it to her, who leaned closer, holding his wrist.

“We spent two hours there!”

“I didn’t even see the time go by.” he smiles, the two of them walking side by side on the sidewalk, the nightlife lighting up the farther they got from the little restaurant.

“Me neither.” she says, holding her hands together when she felt the itch to hold his own hand, only to watch him slide it inside his jeans pockets. She allowed herself to look around, smiling a bit, “Gosh I haven’t been to this area in years.” her eyes locked on a bar filled with college aged kids, “There used to be an arcade here and a record store.” she points when they walk past the bar, Bradley moving closer to her when he notices some of the college kids were being too loud for his liking.

“Yeah? How come?”

She shrugs, still keeping her eyes moving, “I guess…I dunno, I guess it brought me some memories I still wasn’t able to handle.” their eyes met and she laughed quietly, “Oh, I don’t think it’s good to talk about it on our first date.” ah, ex-boyfriend, he thought. He didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help but be curious about it either.

They reached the end of the street, turning it only to face the old theater she talked about. She looked up to the sign announcing the movies for the evening, then she gasped loudly, holding his arm “Bradley! Look!” she pointed upwards, so he tilted his head back.

Alien Movies Marathon 9:00-4:00

She squeezed his arm, almost vibrating with excitement, “Oh my god!! I can’t believe they are doing this again!” she downright squealed and he couldn’t help but be filled with warmth over her joy. She snaps her head at him, “We could watch it! I-If you want to! But only until the third movie, the rest isn’t the greatest.”

Well, he never saw the movie…

”Why not? If it’s here why don’t we- woah!” she just pulled him forward, this time his hand slipped out of his pockets to be latched by her own, smaller, hand. They didn’t interlace their fingers, but he couldn’t complain about the warmth of their palms touching. He let her do the talking when asking for tickets, thanking the woman before they walked around trying to find the room the movie would be running in.

The smell of popcorn, soda and chemicals entered his nose with a vengeance when they entered the room and he coughed behind his fist. She took him forward, to the middle row, where she sat down while keeping her hand on his. He took notice of his surroundings, seeing it was slowly filling up with people of all ages, who took the lower seats in front of them.

He looked down at their hands still together, seeing her thumb rub his knuckles repeatedly, he didn’t think she noticed what she was doing, too fired up about seeing one of her favorite movies. So he smiled, squeezing her hand only to check if she squeezed back… and she did.

The room went dark, hoots of happiness from the people around them echoed around before silence took over and the screen turned pure white signaling the movie was about to start. Once it did, he wasn’t expecting to be so invested in it. He expected to like it but not refuse to look away from the screen once it began. He’d lean closer to Beatrice to ask questions about certain scenes, to which she’d reply without moving her gaze away.

“They should’ve just tossed him out of the ship.” he whispered to her once the scene of Kane with the facehugger latched happened. He made a disgusted noise when the ‘tail’ wrapped around his throat even tighter.

“Ripley told them to,” she says, “But no one ever listens to Ripley.”

“That’s going to bite them in the ass.”

“You bet.”

He continued watching, this time his thumb was the one rubbing against her skin, feeling her own hand squeeze back whenever he did. He kept his eyes intently on the screen, frowning when he saw that the facehugger was no longer latched to Kane’s face, muttering a quiet ‘what the fuck?’

When the facehugger leaped out on Ripley, the whole room gasped, some cursed and Bradley downright jumped in surprise, “Jesus f– “ he closed his eyes, his hand immediately going up to his heart. Beatrice laughed softly, shaking his hand to check if he was okay.

“It’s dead.” she said and his eyes opened to see the facehugger being prodded.

“Dead?” he replied, curling his face with disgust, “God, that’s gross– how is it dead?”

“Well…it died.” she says cryptically, with a little smile on her face. He pursed his lips, moving his eyes back to the screen. He didn’t see Beatrice keeping an eye on him, seeing his reaction to her favorite scenes was bringing a smile to her face.

When it was the time that Kane was eating - cue to Bradley scoffing muttering that there was something off - she then bit her lower lip, squeezing his hand one more time. Bradley was suspicious and that was good, first timers rarely notice that something is off when seeing the movie, his free hand clenching the armrest with his eyes not moving away.

Then it happened, Kane ‘choked’ and was tossed onto the table, he writhed about until– “Holy shit!” Bradley’s shout was mixed with everyone’s shouts of disgust and surprise, “You are kidding me! You are kidding me– is that a fucking baby??” Beatrice laughed, seeing him lean forward when the baby xenomorph growled and ran off, disappearing from everyone’s view.

She tried to control her laughter when Bradley seemed to be just as annoyed as she would with the rest of the Nostromo crew, who just kept on ignoring Ripley, “Oh, now you are tossing the body,great.” he growls, his leg bouncing with nerves. “The cat better not die. Or Ripley.”

He was dry and sarcastic with every scene, letting out a quiet gasp when the xenomorph full form appeared, but then he tossed his hand to the screen in a ‘see?’motion, “I don’t know what to tell you, bud– oh no you died, that sucks.”

She giggled, “You okay?”

“They should’ve listened to Ripley.” he mutters, his eyebrows low, “I hate these people. Jonesy and Ripley are the only ones I trust.”

He just rolled his eyes when Dallas died, leaning on a hand. His posture however straightened when Ripley went to the computer, his eyebrows furrowed, his head moving between the screen and Beatrice, “What?” he looked back to the screen, “You are shitting me– they were there for the xenomorph???”

“Well, they didn’t know.”

“So they were used.” he mutters, “And what's Ash going to do? Ripley could easily beat his ass if she so wished.” his smirk however immediately disappeared when Ripley was tossed about by the science officer, “Okay, that’s not nice.” but his surprise when it was revealed he was an android was great.

Bradley growled in disgust, “Jesus.” he clenched her hand, “This was all a plan then.”

“Yep.”

“To get the Xenomorph as a weapon.”

“Hmhm.”

Bradley got silent for a bit, “Still don’t feel bad for the ones who died, but Barney can live too. He, Ripley and Jonesy can get out.”

“Not Lambert?”

He tsked “She doesn’t like Ripley so I don’t like her.” that made Bea laugh, which prompted a chuckle out of him in return. Unfortunately, neither Barney or Lambert would be joining Ripley and Jonesy in the capsule. He sighed in relief seeing Ripley was there with the cat, but letting out an ‘oh my god’ when the alien’s black form was hidden on the ship.

He was dead silent, eyes not moving away when Ripley started to dress up, tense like a bowstring. He wasn’t hurting her hand, but he was holding it tightly and she didn’t mind it one bit. When the xenomorph was burned by the ship and Ripley lied down with Jonesy, he let out a quiet ‘yes!’ pumping his fist up, while the theater exploded with claps and hoots of triumph “Finally! I’d be pissed if either of them died.”

She smiled, “I’m glad you liked it!”

“I did.” he mutters, leaning closer to her, his voice lowering, “You have good choices in movies.”

Bea’s cheeks flushed red and she laughed, “Well…I-I try.” she rolls her lower lip into her mouth. “You ready for the second one?”

He smirked, nodding “You bet.”

The second movie once again made him annoyed, because people still didn’t listen to Ripley! But he kept his eyes on it, only leaning closer to share his opinion with Bea, which she liked, enjoying how into it he seemed to be. Not to mention he was still holding her hand and she couldn’t bring herself to break the hold, except for bathroom breaks of course.

They watched the three movies as she suggested, with Bradley telling her one and two were his favorites, much to her agreement. His quick commentary about how everyone sucked except for Ripley,Jonesy and Newt was amazing.

When they walked out of the room however, people were flocking through an open door that Beatrice led them to, hands still clasped together, widening her eyes “Yes!” she squealed, “They brought back the souvenir room!”

Bradley looked around astonished, seeing plushies and toys of several movies for sale, with some crane games down the line for the top of the line ones that were considered rare to get. Beatrice took the two through a hallway of crane games, before stopping on a green and black one, “Look!” she pressed her finger to the glass, where a pile of xenomorph and predator plushies were, the claw swinging above it, “Oh my god, it’s so cute!”

Only Beatrice would consider a giant human killer bug alien cute, but who was he to judge? He leaned closer, trying to hide his disappointment when she let go of his hand to open her purse, grabbing a few coins to slide into the slot, “You any good with these?”

“Well…” she bit her lower lip, keeping her eyes on the claw, “Sometimes.” she directed it to the xenomorph plush right on top of the toy pyramid, “My brothers would usually get it for me if I didn’t. Leo, used to uh–” she paused, trying to find the perfect angle to grab, “To kick the machine when no one was watching.”

The claw lowered, pinching the end of the xenomorph’s elongated plushy head only to go back up, “Oh come on…” she whined, “I don’t have any xenomorph plushies! Just give it to meeeee!!”

Bradley chuckled, seeing her try two more times without success, her forehead thunking against the glass while her lower lip jutted out. He sucked in a breath, looking away from the scene with his stomach churning, he couldn’t handle how cute she was, he really couldn’t, “Here,” he then said, grabbing the coins she still had left and taking her place, “Let me try.”

She stood by his shoulder, watching his tongue peek through his teeth while his eyes followed the claw. He tapped the button twice, just enough for the claw to lower and grab the plushie she so desired, “Oh my god.” she gasped, watching the xenomorph dangle before dropping down “Oh my god!!You did it!” she hugged his shoulder, jumping with excitement before crouching down to grab the toy. She stood to her full height with her laughter vibrating with joy, white teeth shining under the fluorescent lights of the room. “He’s so cute..” she whispers, holding the toy tight to her chest, then gasping when she squeezes the back of it’s head, seeing the inner mouth pop out with a gentle ‘click.’

“Look!” she showed it to Bradley, clicking the mouth a few more times, “Oh this is so cool! Thank you for getting it for me.”

“It was no problem, especially if it makes you smile like that.” she blushes under his words, playing with the short, but soft, tail of her xenomorph plush. He then offers her his hand again, to which she gladly takes and the two walk out of the souvenir room. He’s ready to burst with butterflies, he knows it, his lips just tingle begging him to kiss her before the night is over.

They leave the theater, the three of them now, Bea tucking the xenomorph inside her arm while her other hand stays with his, “Bradley.” he turns his head in her direction, her shy gaze looking up at him, “I…thank you…I mean it.”

“I told you there’s not problem–”

“No, no,I mean…” she sighs “I…” she chews the inside of her lower lip, squeezing his fingers, “I’m having a lot of fun tonight. I really am.” he squeezes right back, pulling her closer to his side so her shoulder touches the top of his bicep.

“You want to know something?” he whispers, leaning closer to her ear, “I’m having a lot of fun too, pretty girl.” he sees the goosebumps on her skin the moment the endearment comes out of his mouth and she pressed her face on her plush, not being able to hold back her own smile. He returns to his full height with a pleased smile, his chest expanding when he inhales the night air mixed with her lavender perfume, before speaking, “I feel like having dessert, how about you?”

“Dessert? What time is it now?”

“It’s…” he purses his lips looking down at his watch, “0015 right now.” he half expected her to gasp at the time, but she just looked deep in thought.

“Mr.Scoops is open.” she says “We could go there. It’s not so cold right now for ice cream.”

Bradley’s lips curl into a smirk and he nods, leading her to the Bronco so the two could have ice cream at midnight. It wasn’t something he was used to doing as an adult, sure he’d sneak bites of ice cream when he was a child and his mother was asleep, but he couldn’t complain how tempting the idea was.

So, to Mr.Scoops they went, seeing the people outside enjoying the same cold treat they planned to. Most of them were punk or alternative kids, or college kids who didn’t want to end the night in the hospital thanks to alcohol poisoning.

It didn’t take long for them to order their own bowls of ice cream, choosing to eat in the park close by instead of inside the ice cream shop. They sat on a bench that overlooks most of the park, but it was hidden enough they wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. Their thighs touched when they sat down, “Hm,” she says mid chew, the soft ice cream sliding down her throat, “This is really good, I don’t know why I never asked for it.”

"What 's it again?” he questions while chewing a piece of waffle cone dug into his ice cream bowl.

“Raspberry lemonade.” she replies, digging out a frozen raspberry from the inside, “It’s tangy…but not bad? It’s very refreshing.” she looks over to his own ice cream, seeing it was mostly dark with pieces of waffle cone sticking out of it, “How’s yours?”

“Great,” he replies, licking his thumb clean “I never had belgian chocolate before, so I feel kinda fancy.”

She chuckles, leaning back on the bench while he did the same, the two of them enjoying their ice cream in comfortable silence, the the sound of an owl hooting not too far from them being the only sound besides their own breathing. He looked over to her, watching her lick her lips to get rid of the ice cream with amazement “I don’t know how it’s still on.” she hums in question, spoon inside her mouth, “Your lipstick, it’s still on.”

“Oh,” she pops the spoon out, gesturing with her pinky to her mouth, “It’s a matte lipstick, it holds onto dear life. Nothing really makes it budge.”

Bradley narrows his eyes, “Really?”

“Really!”

“There has to be something that makes it messy.” he counters, “Food doesn’t…so…water?”

“Hmmm, no, not really.”

He ‘huh’s quietly, poking his cheek with his tongue, “How about…hm…how about tea or coffee?” she shakes her head with a smile “How about…juice, like orange juice?”

“Nope.” she giggles about to say something but he’s faster.

“How about a kiss?” and his eyes are right on her mouth, ice cream forgotten on his lap and she felt her soul leave her body. Beatrice’s eyes widen, her red covered lips parting in a soft gasp while he just stares, intensely, towards her mouth “We should test it out.”

“I-I…I mean…”

“If you want to–”

“I do!” she squeaked, slapping a hand over her mouth at how fast and loud she said that, much to his amusement. “I..I do… a lot.” she whispers, looking at him through her lashes. Bradley huffs out a laugh, licking his lips while meeting her eyes. She feels her eyelids flutter when he gets closer, her cheeks burning to unbelievably high temperatures but she doesn’t back away when she feels his breath against her lips. When it happens, when their lips touch Beatrice feels like floating, her hands forgetting the ice cream to clutch the edges of his Hawaiian shirt in fear she’d fly away.

His lips were so soft and warm, just a bit chapped but nothing to be uncomfortable about. She sighed against his lips,her hands sliding up to wrap around his neck, their chests touching and both of their bowls of ice cream forgotten by the sides of the bench. He placed one hand on the back of her head while the other cupped her hip, pulling her even closer than before and she held back a whimper at how big and warm his hand was against her body.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, he almost pulled her to his lap but held against it, choosing to just squeeze the meaty flesh of her thigh instead. Her smaller hands traveled up to his hair and he groaned into her mouth, tasting the fresh raspberry lemonade from her tongue, earning a quiet whimper from her. When they broke for air, both of their faces were flushed but her lipstick remained intact, “God damn it.” he breathed out, using his thumb to brush over the lower lip, a shaky breath leaving her lips, “It’s still on.”

Her breathing was uneven “M-Maybe…” she licked her lips, “We should try again.”

“God,I love how you think.” he groans, latching their lips together again, moaning into her mouth as she did the same, her body partially on his. He squeezed her thigh even more, his arm shaking trying to hold back from pulling her onto his lap. Too early, his brain tried to say through his fogged mind, it's too early, this is just their first date. But he wanted, he wanted so bad.

Her little whimpers and sighs against his mouth were about to drive him insane, the way her nails raked up his scalp sending shivers all over his body. Shivers that were sending jolts to areas he didn’t think either of them should deal with yet. They parted yet again when breathing became a responsibility, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he tried to regain some sort of control over his own self.

He inhaled her lavender scent as if it was better than oxygen, burying his face on the curve of her shoulder while her arms remained around his neck, “Fuck…” he whispered, still out of breath, “Fucking hell, I–”

“You okay?” she questioned, just out of breath as he was.

“Pretty girl, this is like asking a thirsty man in the desert if he needs water.” he exhales, her body shaking with a quiet giggle, “I’ll be fine…just…God, you have a nice mouth.”

“Yours isn’t that bad either.” she bit her lower lips when he lifted his head, his hair a bit disheveled thanks to her hands combing through it, so she tried to comb the sandy strands back to what it was. “Sorry, your hair– I…” she giggles, still a bit unsure how to react. She makes a surprised noise when he leans down to kiss her again, but she smiles against his lips, his mustache tickling her.

“You are so cute,” he mutters against her mouth, ‘You are so fucking cute, god I can’t–” more kisses, “I can’t handle you. With your–” another one, “Your laugh when you find something funny,” yet another, “The way you jut out your lip when you are upset,” once again, “The way your eyes shine when you talk about something you love, god damn it-”

If her cheeks were burning before, now they were downright melting over his words. The butterflies escaped, they were now flying freely around her, finally happy to be free without the fears of dying in a cage. Her eyes burn with tears but they never fall, she’s too happy for them to fall, cupping his cheeks to keep him there, kissing her and she kisses him back with just as much enthusiasm.

When they break, this time for real, their foreheads touch and they look at each other. He chuckles breathily, his thumb returning to rub on her lower lip, “I think I see a bit of skin showing.” He gently pulls the lip down to expose the pink underside, before he lets it go so it bounces back “I call that test a success.”

“It was.” she whispers, her thumbs touching his cheekbones, “I like you a lot Bradley.”

“I like you a lot too,Beatrice.”

They laugh like two teenagers, “Does that mean…” she shrugs, her face returning to it’s scarlet color, “That we are together?”

Bradley smiles, his body relaxing while his hand travels down to caress her chin, “If you want to.” his voice is very soft when he says it, “I’d like that a lot, if I’m being honest.”

“I want to.” she says, running her thumb over the scar on his jawline, “I want so much.”

“I say we seal it with a kiss, then” he murmurs, already leaning over, “Just to make sure.”

Her laugh sounds musical when she nods, moving her head closer so they could kiss again, not being able to contain her own happiness.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

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bloop-im-a-frog-now · 1 year

Text

If The Gods Were Kind — cave pt.2

Hullo!!! Welcome to part 2 of the world-building part. We now get to meet Cleo, Bdubs and Impulse! Ain’t that fun? I love writing dialog, usually, but most of the dialog here comes from the CCs videos (god forbid we have all three hours of the session and so I have to look for scraps in other POVs). Anyway, enjoy!

Master Post

— —

Content warnings: Internalized ableism

After stabilizing himself, he dug a sort of staircase, mining every coal and iron he found on his way. It was difficult mining, it took a lot of energy out of his arms, and had to roll his shoulders and take breaks before continuing. It was even harder going up and down, he had to use everything to help him get up and to get down as gently as he could.

Eventually, he took a look at his communicator, trying to see if it could help him with navigation. On the top right-hand corner, there were coordinates he didn’t see the first time he opened it. He was close to Y 8. Maybe he should go higher, closer to the surface.

While digging up, he almost jumped into lava, and tried to understand what redstone would do. He smelt his iron and managed to craft some shoes and leggings. He came across some gold and wondered what other gemstones were hidden in these caves. As he mined more coal and different types of rocks, he heard faint voices. He looked around him, but saw no one. Maybe they were trapped in the stone.

“Hello?” he called.

The voices yelled, of joy or surprise, he wasn’t sure. Scar walked back and saw a name tag deep in the stone. “ZombieCleo” one read, but he could hear another voice.

“Hellooo?” he called again.

“Hey! Where are you?” a more accented feminine voice asked.

“Um, not sure,” he looked around.

“Here, wait, let me mine to you.”

“Cleo! What if they wanna kill us?” another voice said, displeased and with a much more different accent.

“I’m not gonna kill you,” Scar tried to reassure, “I’m actually very lost.”

He mined where he could hear the voices clearly. The closer he got, the more prominent were the name tags. One was “BdoubleO100”, going back and forth to ZombieCleo and hiding out of his view. Finally, a path cleared, and his eyes landed on a zombie with fiery orange hair.

“Well, hello there,” Scar greeted. He hoped this zombie wouldn’t bite him. He could still feel a gnawing sensation on his shoulder. He ate a pork chop.

“Hi,” she said, hesitantly.

They had a flower crown around her head, red flowers, blue flowers, purple flowers. It was mostly keeping their long curly hair out of her face, or Scar figured that was its purpose. She was wearing a deep blue crop top, which complimented their blueish skin and fitted her plump and compact figure. Their shorts were ripped at the seams and had thigh-high striped socks with walking boots.

“It’s nice to see a face around here,” Scar said conversationally. “Very easy to get lonely.”

She hummed. “Good thing I found Bdubs early on.”

He blinked, not quite sure if he understood what they said (it was hard to understand her with their accent, but he’d manage), and raised an eyebrow. “Deebubs?”

“Bee-dubz,” she articulated and pointed at the BdoubleO100 name tag, still hidden from his view. He tested the name, whispering it and trying to match Cleo’s pronunciation. “That guy over there.”

“Cleo! You can still hide!” someone said in a harsh whisper. She rolled their eyes.

“If he wanted to kill me, he would’ve done so by now.” Cleo crossed their arms, giving a death glare to Bdubs’ hiding spot.

Scar raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not here to kill anyone.”

She hummed, giving him an unimpressed look. “Good.” She glanced behind her. “Bdubs, come out of hiding, no need to be so paranoid.”

Bdubs shuffled out of his hiding spot. He had cream buzz cut hair, contrasting his darker brownish skin tone, though Scar saw the beginning of dark roots at his scalp. The iron chest plate didn’t cover the long blue sleeves, the same light blue as Cleo’s skin, but framed his barrel-chested and solid body. He had wide eyes and only seemed to be an inch taller than his companion beside him, and Scar was pretty certain he had a good head over Cleo.

“I have my reasons!” he proclaimed.

Cleo rolled their eyes and scoffed. Scar couldn’t hold in his nervous laughter and smiled at the interaction.

“You wanna join us?” Cleo asked him, jerking her head to their partner. Bdubs made a protest noise and Scar hummed, intrigued.

“Sure. What’re you guys doing, exactly?”

“Just mining. Trying to find diamonds and survive the night.”

He gave them a skeptical look, eyebrow raised. “Mining to survive the night? Wouldn’t it be better to find a shelter and sleep?”

“That’s what I said!” protested Bdubs. Cleo scoffed once again.

“We wouldn’t have survived, and I would rather sleep in a bed, thank you very much. A woman deserves comfort.”

Scar couldn’t help but agree. How he would love to lay his back on a soft and comfortable bed, ignoring the ache in his hips and calves. At least, he hoped it would dim the ache. He switched his walking stick sides, shifting his weight, gripping the handle tightly when he felt it wobble.

Bdubs squinted his eyes at Scar’s movements, but didn’t say anything. Or was he looking at Scar’s messy bandage on his shoulder, if he could even call it that? Or even the scars scattered around his body? Bdubs instead came closer to Cleo’s side.

“We should bring you to our main mining spot!” he suggested. Cleo glanced at him and a small smirk formed on their lips.

“Yeah, that way, you’ll meet Impulse too.”

Scar gave them both a bewildered look. “There’s more people?”

“Well, it would be stupid to think we’re the only ones here, in this big world.”

Scar didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t go further into the clearing because of the blue transparent wall blocking the way. But he felt it was important information.

“I-I mean, where I was, there was just a barrier, and I was in a sorta valley. Pretty closed off from everyone,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

Cleo shrugged. “Fair assumption, then.”

“Hey, we should add you to our contact list!” Scar perked up at that, remembering the second message on his communicator.

Cleo nodded. “Yeah, actually, that’s a great idea. This mine can be quite big, we don’t know when someone will get lost.”

Scar grinned, taking his communicator out of his pocket. “Alright, but how exactly do I add you guys to my contact list?”

“Oh wait, here, lemme—” Bdubs snatched Scar’s communicator, tongue poking out, “—aaaand here we go! Now you have me and Cleo as contacts.”

“Awesome,” Scar said in amazement, looking at his communicator. The contact list and messages were pulled up in a different window. He could still see “Taking Inventory: Achieved”, but instead of indicating he had no contacts, it showed both Cleo’s and Bdubs’ names. He tried to see what other achievements he accomplished, using the arrow to scroll down the list. He had at least ten achievements and felt pride blooming in his chest, ignoring the ache that spread from his eyes to his temples.

Cleo and Bdubs guided him to their main mining spot. His two new companions whispered to each other. Scar could still hear what they were saying, but didn’t bother listening. After all, it was rude listening in on a conversation that didn’t include you. The tunnels twisted and turned, and he could feel his legs almost giving out on him, trembling and incapable of supporting his body weight. He had to continue.

He ate a pork chop, hoping it would give him more energy to soldier on, and leaned more on his barely-holding-it-together stick. Maybe he should have more than a walking stick. But wouldn’t that be more inconvenient? The handle almost fell off, but Scar gripped it tight to keep it in place. Cleo and Bdubs stopped in their tracks. He blinked at them and realized he was quite far from them.

“Are you okay?” Bdubs asked. Scar knew the man was concerned about him. Scar sensed that Bdubs suspected something was up. Whether it was his shoulder or the falling apart walking stick, he wasn’t sure. He smiled widely and stood taller.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

Cleo looked skeptical. “What happened?”

He wasn’t sure if she was talking about the wounds, his mysterious scars, or him clutching his stick like his life depended on it. Which it did, he didn’t know how he would’ve been able to stand up without something supporting him. Strangely enough, the wounds on his shoulder didn’t sting him like they did when he mined.

“I ran into some monsters and couldn’t defend myself properly.”

Cleo squinted their eyes. That wasn’t what they meant, he realized.

“Oh gosh, quick, c’mere.”

Bdubs waved at him to come closer. He tried his best, somewhat still clumsy with his walking stick, even after all that mining. Maybe it was the way his legs were trembling underneath him, or how the ache between his hips and calves got stronger.

When he was close to a chest, a crafting table and a furnace, he saw someone else in the corner of his eye. Bdubs forced him to sit on the ground, a cleaned cloth and water in his hands. Scar let out an “oof” when his butt hit the ground, quite harshly.

“There was someone else down there,” Scar pointed out, squirming to find a comfortable position to sit as Bdubs rummaged in the chest.

Cleo looked down at the hole. “Yeah, that’s Impulse, still trying to find diamonds. Doubt we’re gonna find any here, though.”

He hummed. So this was Impulse. Diamonds might be more important than he first thought, if everyone around him was trying to find them. Cleo began mining close to them. He wanted to ask them if she was also mining for diamonds until Bdubs put the wet cloth on his bite wound. He winced and held in his scream, inhaling sharply instead.

“Sorry, this’ll sting for a while.” Scar let out a breathy laugh, a sarcastic reply sitting on his tongue, but kept the words in. He shifted against the side of the tunnel, trying to sit in a position that wouldn’t remind him of the soreness in his calves and hips. He kept shifting when Bdubs looked up and then looked at his shoulder. “That’s some serious damage you got there—Scar, was it?”

He blinked. Why did Bdubs look up? Did he have a name tag on top of his head? He nodded.

“Did you also get shot?” Bdubs clicked his tongue, as if disappointed in him.

“The skeleton caught me by surprise!” Scar protested.

“You’re lucky this didn’t get infected,” his new medic said instead.

He sighed. He was glad he wasn’t the only person in this world, glad there were people he could rely on.

Someone came closer to them, and his appearance became clearer the more he approached the minimal light torches could provide. His black shirt drooped nicely over his ample and burly body, the lowercase “i” framing his stomach. The brown leggings seemed to be the only sort of armor on his person, sneakers in his feet.

Scar wondered if the leggings were made out of leather, at least they were matching the man’s short hair color. He was around the same height as Scar, maybe even broader than him, which made him think if they were in a fist fight, the man would more likely win. His face supported a five o’clock shadow, masking his pale rosy skin, and a disappointed look. The name tag “impulseSV” hovered over his head.

Bdubs finished patching him up, and Scar stayed seated, knowing it would take him a while to get up, and he really didn’t want to deal with that.

“Did you find any?” Bdubs asked.

Impulse shook his head. He went to Cleo’s tunnel.

“Any luck?” he called.

“Nope!” was the reply.

Scar leaned his head back against the rocks, eyeing them curiously. “What’s so special about diamonds, anyway?”

Impulse turned to him with an offended gasp. Scar gulped. If this was the reaction he was gonna get, he wouldn’t have asked in the first place.

“Diamonds are the strongest material in this world. You can make a diamond sword, diamond armor—”

“A jukebox,” Bdubs interrupted enthusiastically.

Impulse gaped at him and let out a chuckle. “Yes, a jukebox.”

“That’s why we want to find some diamonds,” Bdubs winked at Scar. Scar tilted his head, a bit confused. “We found this record.”

Bdubs took out a disc. It had a green circle in the center, and looked used, as if someone kept using it constantly and threw it away mindlessly. He reached for the disc, which Bdubs gladly gave to him, and touched the rough and bumpy surface. He gave it back to the blond man.

“We really need to find those diamonds.”

Bdubs smirked. “That’s the spirit! You can come help me if you want.”

Scar shrugged. “Sure.”

Scar used the rocks that stood out and the stick to stand up, his body protesting from the awakened slumber. He almost fell because the instant he placed more of his weight on the stick, the handle slipped. Impulse reached out to help him, Bdubs sent him a concerned look, but Scar waved them off, gripping the handle around the stick tighter—it was killing his back but he didn’t have any option. He could take care of himself.

“Dude, your cane is falling apart,” Impulse said, pointing at his stick.

Scar looked at it, and grimaced. He sent them a nervous smile.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any wool or something similar, now, would you?”

Bdubs scratched his chin in deep thought, and searched in the chest. He sighed, dejectedly.

“No, sorry.” He looked at Impulse, who was searching in his inventory.

“I have one big chunk of wool,” he said slowly, “but, I also have leather and some longer sticks.”

Scar beamed at them. “D’you think you can do something with that?”

Impulse chuckled lightly. “I can try, just gimme a sec.”

Impulse took out the materials from his inventory and started tinkering. Scar and Bdubs watched him closely as he took the long stick, placed it beside Scar to measure its height (Scar was holding on to the side of the mine and Bdubs’ bicep), and assembled the materials together. He separated the wool into long strings, and wrapped a small stick in leather, putting some fluffy wool in it. Scar got lost in the intricate movements, squinting to follow them and understand them, only to ultimately be confused.

Impulse inspected the newly made walking stick and gave it to Scar with a smile.

“There ya go, buddy, a sturdy cane just for you.”

Scar gasped in amazement, admiring the cane (it seemed Impulse knew more about it than him), the handle covered in leather that was soft to the touch and didn’t threaten to fall off.

“Thank you so much,” Scar choked.

Impulse patted him behind the back. “Anytime.”

Scar tested the sturdiness of the cane, and once he was satisfied, he took a deep breath and gave Bdubs a wide smile.

“Well, Bdubs,” he extended his hand, letting Bdubs walk in front of him, “lead the way, my friend.”

“I’ll join Cleo,” Impulse called out as the other two went further in the cave.

A long time passed as they kept mining, further away from the main spot. Scar had to take many breaks, even if his cane was better than his last one, it was quite the feat to constantly mine. Bdubs reassured him he wasn’t a burden and continued the search without him from time to time, always coming back with some goodies and wild stories.

Eventually, Scar got a full set of iron armor and even made a clock. He didn’t know you could make a clock with gold and redstone, but it was very impressive to see how accurate it was. It was quite bland, very few details and mostly gold. In the half-circle, the sun and moon were in sync with the actual sky outside. The sun rose in the corner of the hollow half-circle. Bdubs asked for the clock many times, and eventually, Scar gave in and said that Bdubs was the timekeeper. The short man grinned, pleased with his new role.

“This mine is a bust,” Scar complained after they searched for more diamonds.

“This mine is a bust. Cleo was right, we’ll never find diamonds here. Let’s regroup.”

As they reached the meeting spot, Cleo was tapping their foot impatiently and Impulse was mining up in the ceiling. Scar had a gut feeling it wasn’t a good idea to do that, and conveyed the thought. Impulse stopped promptly, and Bdubs started to complain loudly to them, stomping around and checking the clock every so often.

Scar decided to leave them be for a while and explored the cave a bit deeper. With his stone pickaxe almost ruined and his shoulders aching from the mining trip he did with Bdubs, he mined a random spot, mostly to stimulate his tired mind and to have something to do with his hands.

That was until he saw sky blue gemstones in a stone. Diamond ore. He gasped and tried letting the others know of his discovery, changing his stone pickaxe to his iron one. He mostly sounded like he was getting attacked, alarming the rest rather than joining him out of joy.

“What’s wrong, Scar?” Cleo asked, the first who arrived. She gasped as he mined the last diamond ore, grimacing through the soreness of his shoulders and forcing them to move above his head, cane placed on the side.

“What, what is it?!” Bdubs demanded. Scar gave them a diamond each, and grabbed his cane, a big grin on his face.

Impulse gasped. “You found diamonds?!”

“I found diamonds!”

His communicator buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at it. Beside Cleo’s and Bdubs’ name was green text. He showed it to the others, too tired to comprehend the letters on the screen.

“What does that mean?”

Cleo went closer to the screen while Bdubs squinted at it. Cleo snapped their fingers.

“Right, you didn’t know that. Once you gain contacts, you can see their achievements. I’m so used to feel mine buzzing that I’ve sorta ignored it.”

Bdubs nodded intensively and shifted his eyes at each one of them. “Anyone wants to sacrifice their diamond for the jukebox?”

There was a deep silence, and Impulse laughed. “Nobody wants to sacrifice their first diamond.”

“I’ll do it,” Cleo and Scar offered.

“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll sacrifice mine,” Bdubs waved them off, walking to the crafting table with a skip in his steps.

As they got out of the hole Scar dug (Cleo and Impulse had to help him get out), Impulse nudged Scar’s shoulder.

“Hey, pretty sure I don’t have your contact.”

“Oh right, here,” Scar handed his communicator to Impulse and he put his name on Scar’s communicator and Scar’s name on his.

“We should listen to the disc on the surface,” Cleo suggested.

“Oh, what a great idea!” Bdubs exclaimed. “We can then vibe to it!”

Scar wondered if “vibe” was a word Bdubs invented.

“What does ‘vibe’ mean, exactly?”

Bdubs grinned and cleared his throat. “Well, you see,” Bdubs gloated, “‘vibe’ is what younglings use for, um.” Bdubs frowned, pausing. “I think it means sharing the same mood, but I’m not even sure where it came from.”

Cleo patted his back solemnly, and Impulse shook his head. Scar quirked an eyebrow.

“You also don’t remember anything?”

They all shook their heads. “We’re not really sure why,” Impulse hesitated, looking at the side.

“We’ve just kinda accepted it,” Cleo shrugged.

A long silence fell upon them. Bdubs clasped his hands together, shaking everyone out of the silence.

“Let’s not dwell on this for long, hm?” Bdubs gave them each a stern look. “Let’s focus on going to the surface.”

“Is there a way out?” Scar asked, looking around, leaning more on his cane, so glad to feel steady and the smooth leather on his palm and for the awkward silence to dissipate.

Impulse patted his shoulder, almost making him trip on his tired feet. “Don’t worry, I have a great sense of navigation.”

Scar chuckled nervously and followed them to the surface.

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#tw: internalized ableism #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #scar #third life #3rd life smp #3lsmp #trafficblr #zombiecleo #impulsesv #impulse #bdubs #bdoubleo #bloop's attention seeking strategy

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