I will be linking all future works here. You can also find me on Ao3.
Be sure to check back, support, and above all, enjoy!! -Pinkxxx
đŠˇArthur Fleck (Joker)
SUBWAY OBSESSIONS (ARTHURS POV)
ă°ď¸Chapter 1
ă°ď¸Chapter 2
ă°ď¸Chapter 3
SUBWAY OBSESSIONS (FEM READERS POV)
ă°ď¸Chapter 1
ă°ď¸Chapter 2
ă°ď¸Chapter 3
đŠˇRandall Kirkland (From)
ă°ď¸Limitations NEWâ¨ď¸
ă°ď¸Focus On Me
đŠˇJade Hererra (From)
ă°ď¸TBA
đŠˇStiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)
ă°ď¸The Problem With Portals
đŠˇHomelander (The Boys)
ă°ď¸Run Rabbit
Hello, fellow fanfic lovers and writers!
I'm Pinkxxx!! Taurus. Artist. Writer. Stoner. PNW born and raised. Avid hiker. Carl Sagan is my dude! Love looking at the stars any chance I get. I love hello kitty and heavy metal. Helping people for a living during the day, probably writing smut at night.
đFAVORITE FANDOMSđ
-Joker/Arthur Fleck
-The Boys
-From (MGM+)
-Teen Wolf (MTV)
-The Last Of Us
-American Horror Story
-Interview With The Vampire (AMC)
-Twilight
-Beetlejuice
-Scream
-Doctor Who
-The Originals
-House Of The Dragon
-The Vampire Diaries
-True Blood
-Venom
I would love to do some kind of fic for each of these ideally. I am also interested in the more supernatural stuff like the Mothman, Skinwalkers, Slenderman, Ghosts, Cthulhu, and Aliens if that would interest anyone. I might just do it anyway, though tbh. đ
I am new to tumblr and new to fanfic, so if anyone wants to reach out with comments or tips or just to say hey! I'd love to hear it!
Ooooh girl! You know it! Im grinding on this Jade fic and starting a couple more Randall fics from my requests. I've been very "distracted" as of late iykwim. Living my best single life out here! đ but i swear it'll be so so worth it!!
Your new randall fic is DELICIOUS i ate that up it was so good đŤđ¤¤đ¤
Yes!! The much-anticipated Randall Kirkland fic is now posted! Gah, he's just so damn perfect, I want to fkn devour him!!!
𼚠I love yall so much!! Thank you for enjoying this one. It was a bit longer than I anticipated, but im a sucker for plot/world/character building. đ
Please go read "Limitations" đ posted on my master list! And as always, support your creators! Once again, I love yall, and I am so happy to take you on this journey with me. đŠˇđ
Summary: Randall plays on your competitive nature. How far will he take it? How far will you let him?
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, DubCon, manipulation, breeding, choking, gagging, dacrophilia swearing, mentions of violence and murder, fem!reader, romantic smut, aftercare
A/N: Finally!!! It is time!! I know y'all have been itching for this new Randall fic, Iâve been grinding hard on this, I hope it doesnât disappoint. I love y'all! I love Randall!!! Thank you all so so much for your support! It truly means the world to me and motivates me to do better every day and put out more fics! As always, Iâm open to comments, questions, requests, etc. or if you ever just want to reach out, say, "Hey", and chat, I am all for it!! *kisses*
W/C: 9.2k
You didnât want to walk past the bus this morning. Every time you did, you felt his eyes on you. You could feel them traipse across your skin, observing your every curve, how you walked, the way your hips swayed, and how your hair bounced behind you as you walked. You had gotten used to the town, as used to it as someone could get, you supposed. But you never could bring yourself to come to terms with your feelings, feelings you werenât sure how to address, or what to even call them. Was it envy, lust, longing? Youâve never even spoken to him, but you felt his eyes bore into you every morning as you walked past to the diner.
Some days, you wondered what would happen if you stopped to speak with him. What would you say? Every morning you saw him from your peripheral vision as he turned his head to follow your path. Wanting to look back, but eyes still looking straight ahead. You never looked back, unsure of what you'd see, what you wanted to see. The one and only person you thought you had figured out, but too scared to be direct or approach. You stole a few glances at times at the diner or by the farm. You often remarked at how handsome he was, shying away from those lustful thoughts, but always going back to them once it got dark and you were alone.
You kept to yourself most days, only chatting with folks in passing at the diner and steering far from colony house. You had heard stories, and gossip passed through tight lips from person to person. You were not one to indulge but still remained vigilant with an ear to listen. Randall, the guy they kicked out and forced to live on the bus. Some say he threatened Donna. Some say he held people at gunpoint. Nothing surprising, nothing you probably wouldnât do yourself given the chance. This place had a way of messing with people, getting into their heads, making people mad in every sense of the word. Some days, you didnât know if what you were seeing was real, and were unsure if anyone else had similar experiences but kept to yourself all the same due to your own distrust in others.
Day in and day out, you felt defeated, not sure if you were even really alive. You walked through the day in a slump, wondering if anything is real, if this was real or if it was a dream⌠and what of the life you knew before. Was that the dream? You had gone numb, wracking your mind over the details and inconsistencies of the day-to-day happenings. Not wanting to die, not willing to, but not sure if you would or if that even meant anything anymore. Was this what death was? Did we all die in car crashes and this is our fucked-up purgatory? What is survival, really? In this situation, it was hard to define.
Thatâs why you found yourself thinking of Randall often, yet too shy or scared to approach him, only in your mind's eye did he linger. Not knowing what heâs thinking or going through personally. You were remiss to your thoughts and thoughts alone. They drove you to the edge of delirium nightly. Clutching your pillow over your face, screaming to drown out the sounds of the creatures that knocked upon your windows and doors. Always trying to find a way in, slowly waiting, watching. You felt helpless and alone often escaping in the thought of his touch, how his hands would feel on your skin, how soft his lips must feel, how theyâd taste. It was the last piece of sanity you could hold onto every night before the nightmare became too close of a reality. Instead, you fantasized about Randall and turned it into a dream.
You reluctantly headed out the door later than usual today, unwilling to brood between four walls. You threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading out the door and to the diner. Before arriving, you could hear commotion in the distance. There was a group of people standing near the entrance of the diner arguing about supplies and food. The crowd seemed rowdy and questionable.
You stopped at the edge of where the bus stood with its tires shot out a safe distance away, watching as the township fought and argued. You scoffed and sneered. Tired of how the people ran things here, tired of the rules in a place with no natural law. It was ridiculous to you, a noble effort that just somehow still wasnât enough. People are still being killed, people are still lost, thereâs no escaping and theyâre fighting over supplies. Your eyes rolled so hard you felt the nerves stretch behind your eye socket causing a slight headache.
âUghâ, you audibly spoke. âMy sentiments exactlyâ a voice said from beside you. You shuddered at the sound of the voice, deep and gravelly. You quickly looked up realizing Randall had stepped off the bus and stood next to you. Suddenly you found your lungs had tightened in your chest lifting a lump into your throat leaving you unable to speak or even breath for a moment. You observed his expression, aloof yet fixed and focused. You could see behind his eyes, a darkness softened by disappointment and fear. His eyes looked on toward the diner as he snickered.
âCan you believe what theyâre doing? Rationing food now?â He spoke again. You watched as his mouth moved when he spoke, how his lips curled over his teeth, how his dark rimmed mossy green eyes flickered with speech. His hands gesturing toward the diner, looked rough and abrasive, covered in veins that crawled up his forearms and disappeared under his flannel shirt. He was so remarkably handsome you thought to yourself, blushing at the thoughts that began to fill your head once more.
You found yourself trying to respond, to think of something to say. His stature alone was intimidating, he towered over you leaning against the bus with his arms crossed looking at you under a furrowed brow. Those eyes, burning you. You could feel his gaze wash over you like molten lava. You could feel heat begin brimming to your cheeks as your whole body went flush and mind blank.
âSomeone should do somethingâ was all you could manage to say. You spoke angrily and out of frustration in a mere whisper, but truly you thought, someone really should do something, anything, literally anything. Randallâs eyes remained fixed on you as you looked onward towards the diner, your attention caught by louder yelling.
You watched as Boyd broke up the crowd, unable to hear what was being said but seeing his arms wave side to side palms down as if it would calm anyone. The crowd murmured as they dispersed, sharing looks of shame and frustration with one another. âCome onâ Randall said reaching for your hand. It was soft, warm, and completely swallowed yours within his grip. âWhat are you doing?â you questioned. The crowd had already broken and cleared out at this point. âWeâre going to do something about itâ he whispered in a hushed voice. He pulled you with him towards the back side of the diner, you followed effortlessly. His confidence surged through his grip onto your palm. Kinetic energy leaking from his skin to yours, exhilarating your senses and emboldening your mood. Finally, someone with an assertive nature, you thought.
Randall kept eyes on Boyd and the few that lingered as he led you to the backside of the diner, peeking around the corner as he did. You both watched as Boyd, Donna, and a few others left towards the sheriff station. Slowly disappearing into the distance. You felt his hand reach past your waist and brush against your t-shirt lifting it slightly allowing a draft of cold air to touch your skin. You shuddered at the feeling of his forearm sweeping against you, only for a second. He was warm, his skin, so soft.
He had reached across to open the door you stood next to. He then smirked and said âafter youâ outstretching his hand, guiding you into the diner's kitchen. You nodded taking the lead but not fully sure what you were doing there. Upon entering the kitchen, you noticed itâs disarray. There were various dishes, cans, and boxes, strewn about and stacked high. The townâs folk had tried to gather and take what they could, anything they could get their hands on. Perhaps a few even got to take some home, but this was what was left.
Several jars of canned goods, boxed goods, spices, and various pickled fruits and veggies. You imagined the work it took to prep all this who had done it and how long it must have taken. You slide the boxes over with your foot that were haphazardly stacked near the door where Randall entered behind you. He slid past you reaching for an empty box and began filling it with items of his own personal preference. âGrab what you can carry and whatever else you want; weâll take it over to your placeâ he said firmly in a curt almost whisper.
You looked on as your mind fought with itself. You hadnât expected this, to take things for yourself. The idea of it, however much you rationalized it, agreed with it and wanted to, still felt wrong. A tinge of guilt swept over you. Randall, who had his back turned, had turned to face you. Seeing your apprehension he spoke. âThought you wanted to do something about it?â He said playfully jesting toward you with his elbow, easing your tension a bit. It wasnât so much that you didnât want to do it, you did, itâs more that you were afraid of being caught, what would happen then? What would they do?
Truly you thought you didnât really care for anybody in this town, you didnât know them on any personal level, you werenât even sure if they were truly who they said they were. Everyone was out for themselves at this point, proven this morning as you approached the diner and seeing the rowdy crowd, and now, looking around the kitchen and seeing boxes strewn about and the mess they had left behind in their haste. They were all fending for themselves why shouldnât you?
Randall had set his box down with a thunk as the box hit the table. You could hear the clinks of the cans and jars that rustled within. The bulk of his content being canned meats and veggies, various soups, stocks and spices. He had grabbed a box handing it to you. âHere. If weâre going to survive, we have to beat them to it. You saw them out there, they just didnât get away with itâ a mischievous smile crept across your lips. After all, you did say something should be done.
He met your smile with one of his own, a devilish grin widened at the corners of his lips and his eyes narrowed âatta girl! Almost didnât think you had it in youâ he chuckled as he turned and proceeded to fill his box. Your cheeks flushed immediately, a balmy heat filling your face. A mixture of feelings brimmed at that sentiment. You tried dissecting your emotions while grabbing items from the shelves. What had he thought of you? You hadnât thought of that until just now. What did Randall think of you, about you? Did he think you meek and mousey? You supposed you could be perceived that way but truly you were bold, you were passionate, stubborn, and would never back down from a challenge, especially if someone thought you couldnât or wouldnât.
What did he mean he didnât think you had it in you? Sure, you hesitated, but only for a moment. But him saying âatta girlâ almost made it all ok. You wanted him to say more, to give you that praise, to give you the attention you hadnât realized until now, you were so starved for. His voice penetrated your psyche in an undefined pleasurable way. You felt the urge to show him who you really were, after all, he didnât know anything about you sans what he could observe in passing. You had never held a conversation with him prior to today. You surmised that maybe others spoke about you and he had heard. You didnât doubt it, it's how you heard about him.
What had you heard about him that wasnât true or was a misrepresented truth in some way. You wanted to know more about him. You always had but fear held you back. What an opportunity today had presented you with. He was the only person in this place that intrigued you, the only person you felt you could possibly relate to, the only person who seemed⌠real.
Randall had stopped grabbing things, remarking about his full box being a good haul then turning his attention to you as you continued meticulously picking things out. You could feel that familiar feeling, the one you felt every morning as you passed by the bus at first light. His eyes were on you. You could feel them wander your curves as you bent over to look at a lower shelf or kneeled to grab something. His eyes laid upon you like a soft touch, caressing every inch with his vision.
The feelings you had fought every morning quickly presented themselves at the forefront of your mind once again. Today, you let them flourish, examining them closely. Today you would find out what it was you felt. You could feel your body tremble at the thought of him touching you. Your hands shook grabbing items as lustful thoughts overtook your brain making your focus almost nonexistent.
You found yourself easing into his gaze. Calculating your movements to emphasize your body for his view, arching your back, bending your knees. You reached for a high shelf, an item perched just out of your reach. You looked over your shoulder peeking through strands of hair that fell about your face, meeting his smoldering gaze. He was leaned against the counter, arms crossed with one leg crossed over the other. He nonchalantly stood, walking towards you. You tried reaching once more, inching on your feet when you felt his presence behind you.
The space between your bodies was warm and quickly got warmer. An arm outstretched, reaching over your head and grabbing the can from the top shelf you had been reaching for. You could feel the flannel from his shirt brush against your arm. You turned to thank him, falling back onto your heels and looking up. He stood so close to you still, you could smell his clothes, a mix of ozonic and possibly leather. Perhaps from sleeping on the bus you pondered. It was hypnotic.
He took another step closer, enclosing the space between you. A lump lifted into your chest as your breathing hitched. You met his eyes, darkened by the shadows within the room, his face only lit from the bit of daylight that streamed in from the dining area and small back window. You observed his face, lamenting internally how beautiful he was, how soft his features were. His angled jaw, cheek bones, and dimpled chin catching light and emphasizing some of his most beautiful features. The kindness you could see in his face behind his brooding exterior. There was a layer deeper you couldnât see but feel.
The air in the room felt thicker, harder to breath. You could feel each breath you took as it lifted your chest to meet his sternum, pressing firmly against him. He looked down at you with a sly smile âis this what you wanted?â He spoke in a low raspy tone. You looked down seeing the can in his hand. âMhmm. Thank youâ you said shaking your head in affirmation and looking into his eyes. He smiled coyly and handed you the can. With his other arm, he grabbed your shoulder and ran his fingers down your arm gently, leaning in to whisper in your ear. âWe should probably hurry up and get out of here, so we donât get caught tooâ.
However true his words were, it was the farthest thought from your mind. All you could think about was how his breath felt on your ear, how each syllable danced across your skin ever so gently, cascading down your neck. How his hand felt on your shoulder. How firm his grip was, how the sensation of his fingertips still lingered upon your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. You all but melted at the slightest of touch. An ache deep within your core, a feeling so intense it couldnât be ignored. However, he was right. It was best to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.
Earlier, he had said that he would bring the items with you to your place. Your mind raced at the possibilities. You tried to quell those thoughts; they ran rampant within the confines of your mind. Playing out scenes of all the different ways you wanted him, the things you wanted to do to him. You felt your heart race within your chest, your palms got clammy and for once in your time here in the township, fear wasnât at the forefront of your mind.
You nodded in agreement as he stepped aside allowing you space to finish grabbing what you needed. You had found the last item that you topped your box off with before setting it down. A can of fruit medley with extra cherries you found hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. âReady?â He asked standing from his aloof leaning position he watched you from. âLet's go!â You whispered excitedly. You grabbed your box when Randall reached out âI got itâ he said matter of factly, stacking your box on top of his and carrying them both. âJust keep an eye out, yeah?â He gestured nodding his head toward the door. âOf course,â you agreed.
You slowly open the door peeking around the corner looking for any signs of activity or prying eyes. Everything looked clear, you motioned with a wave of your hand to Randall indicating it was safe. You both carefully made your way back to your place in the township. You opted to stick to the tree line, hoping that no one would see you as you quickly made your way home. It must have only been a couple blocks away, but the feeling of excitement and the thrill of the entire situation had you giddy. You felt as if you floated home.
You must have spent more time at the diner than you realized. You are very fortunate, you thought, that no one came back and caught you and Randall. Would they put you in a cell at the sheriffâs station for a night or would they put you in the box? A fleeting thought. For it did not matter, no one did catch you, and you made it to your home safely just before dark.
You scrambled to open the door and let Randall inside as quickly and unnoticeably as possible. Still worried someone would see, but knowing it was unlikely an issue as most were probably already inside as that familiar nightly bell began to ring in the distance.
He had carried those two boxes the entire way, and the fact that he even offered was so kind and gentlemanly. You felt that the things people have said about him and the way they felt about him were wrong, that maybe they didnât give him a chance. He was actually very sweet, albeit intimidating for sure. But that didnât scare you, it only furthered your curiosity.
You regretted not taking the time to approach him sooner instead of waiting for him to approach you on a chance encounter. However it may have happened, you were thankful that it eventually did. If anything, just having him around and being in his presence made you feel less alone, less afraid. As a matter of fact, for most of your time here you werenât sure you were even alive. But with him, this is the most alive you've ever felt since youâve been here.
Such a simple act, a small way to fight back and to resist. He made you feel exhilarated and validated. In the short time you had spent together, you already felt like you wanted him around more. It wasnât just the lust, even though those thoughts danced freely beneath the surface, but you felt a kind of connection with him.
It was unexplainable, maybe irrational even, you couldnât explain it except for that you felt wanted in his presence, accepted. Something you had yet to feel here. It only drew you to him further. There were sudden realizations of unspoken truths between you two. One, you knew he wanted you; you had already known, you supposed for some time. Only now was it clear. Two, he knew you knew. And three, you wanted him as well.
He rushed past you as you pushed the door closed behind him while checking that the talisman was secure. Randall entered your home, setting the boxes upon the table just within the opening to the dining room area, then immediately returned his attention back to you. You went to move but felt locked in his gaze. You watched helplessly as he walked towards you, each step inching closer.
You turned to speak. You had a question still burning within you, you sought clarification from his snide commentary from earlier. âWhat did you mean by you didnât think I had it in me?â You asked pointedly. You were curious. âHuh?â Randall spoke, stopping mid step halfway to where you stood. He paused to think for a moment. âI didnât peg you for defianceâ he mocked. âBut I guess for a second, I thought you mightâve been like the others. Self-righteous, goody two shoesâŚâ he trailed off as he began to move closer once more.
âBut I guess I was wrong. You donât back down from anything do you?â He said playfully looking down at you as the space between you became less, once more pushing himself against you. âUnh uhâ you murmured with broken speech as you shook your head from side to side. So, he does see you? You thought. You went to move away when his hand grasped yours bringing your attention right back to him. You froze staring into his eyes as he spoke, trying to hear his words but being so distracted by him, it became difficult to decipher the meaning and context of what he said.
âMy turn to ask a questionâ he said grasping both of your hands within his, gently rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands from your knuckles to your wrists in slow circles. You nodded unable to speak, awaiting his question. What could he possibly ask? You would tell him anything. In this moment he held you prisoner, you couldnât move if you wanted to. He held a gravity within his core so powerful you couldnât help but be pulled in.
âWhy donât you ever look back?â He whispered. âWhat are you afraid of?â He spoke once more looking into your eyes examiningly. A loaded question for sure, the duality of the question alone knowing where you were, seemed almost oxymoronic. However, you knew what he meant. It wasnât about this place; it was about you. You, yourself hadnât truly come to terms with it, not knowing your own reasoning for why you never did. He leaned in slightly further, putting literal pressure on you. You fought hard internally to answer but felt it impossible. How could you focus when he stood so close to you. Your mind felt like mush, processing thoughts became the hardest of chores. Why must he put you on the spot like this? You thought.
âI-I donât knowâ you muttered, still searching for an answer. âWere you scared of me? What people say?â He said leaning in closer. âHell no!â You snapped back. âYouâre the only person around here I actually think is real!â You replied without thinking. âIt's okay.â He spoke softly, reaching his hand to grab a lock of hair from atop your shoulder, twirling it in his fingers as he spoke. You were now flat against the wall in the hallway near the dining room where he had you pinned. âI know you watch me tooâ he said as he leaned in to whisper in your ear once more. Your chest heaved as you inhaled deeply. Your mind raced as your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Had he seen you watching him at the farm on occasion, or at the diner? You suppose that obviously he had for him to mention that, but thereâs no way he can know how you truly felt. The things you thought about him on a nightly basis when you were alone in your bed. The things you had imagined him doing to you as you gingerly slipped your hand beneath the waistband of your underwear to drown out the screaming outside with your own. Would he blush? He was so confident, so sure of himself. You wondered.
The familiar nightly rapping began at your doors as the creatures descended from the woods. Randall would be staying with you tonight. A fleeting thought so glaringly obvious yet it needed its own space and attention for you to acknowledge before it left once more, leaving a feeling of excitement and joy behind.
The noise had broken your concentration on each other as you both looked towards the direction of the sound. The voices murmured beyond the space of your home. No doubt saying the same things they did nightly, although tonight you had a feeling that they wouldnât be much of a bother to you. Randall had a way of holding your attention, and he wasnât leaving anytime soon.
Randall returned his attention to you once more. âLooks like Iâll have to stay here tonightâ he said confidently with a smirk that crept across his lips, lifting on one side. âIs there somewhere we can go in here where we won't be bothered by...â he trailed off as he gestured toward the door. âYeahâ you said clearing your throat. âFollow meâ.
You led him to the bedroom upstairs. It provided some solace from the noise but it wasnât completely unavoidable. It was the only bedroom in the house and the only space furthest from the door's downstairs. "We can sit hereâ, you motioned to the bed as you sat upon its edge. He followed you through the door sitting right next to you on the bed. The pressure from his weight on the bed caused you to lean into him, once again pulled by his gravity. You let yourself slip closer, blaming the motions of the mattress as it flexed. You wanted so badly to just melt into him, for him to hold you, and for you to lay your head upon his chest. He felt so close yet so far.
You crossed your legs and turned to face him. Looking up at him behind locks of brown waves that fell in front of your face. You motioned to move them, brushing them behind your ear giving him your full attention. He was facing you as well as you searched to find the words to speak. âYou donât even know my nameâ you said suddenly. A thought that never surfaced but only came straight out without a filter. Without You acknowledging it or accepting it. But you were right, you didnât even think he knew your name or much else about you.
âY/nâ he spoke defiantly. âEveryone knows everything about everyone around here, or at least they like to think they do. But yes, I do know your name y/n. I probably know a lot more about you than you think. I can tell a lot about a person just by watching them. Letâs call it a newly developed skill since living on the bus, Iâve become very observant. I also know that you know me, or are aware of me and for sure know my name considering the way word travels around hereâ he said cheekily while letting his eyes wander your body in earnest. A dimly lit room where you were closer to him than ever. He took his time looking at every aspect of you as if you were under a microscope.
âI'm not afraid of youâ. You spoke. âYeah, I hear what other people say, but I donât know them and I donât trust them. I donât think I ever will. The only thing that frightens me, is this place. But Iâll be damned if I just sit around and do nothing. If anything, those people had the right idea! No one here is safe, it's all security theatre! We might as well just fend for ourselves. Whatever Boyd is doing, is clearly not working.â
You felt as if you could speak safely and openly with Randall. You quickly discovered that you really enjoyed his presence, perhaps it was just from being alone for so long but you truly felt connected to him in some way, you didn't know why and you didnât really try to figure that out. For now, it was beyond your comprehension and you just found yourself going with the flow. You reminded yourself that this is probably the first time in a long time that you felt anything other than dread.
âI seeâ he said. âSounds like youâre just as tired of this place and the people here as I am.â He spoke once more. âBut I bet you wouldnât do what needed to be done if it were too much. Even to just forget for a whileâ he jested. âWhat makes you think I wouldnât? what gives you that impression?â You asked looking directly into his eyes. You truly wanted an answer. Did he think this was some kind of game? Of course, you would do what needed to be done in any respect or in any manner. Whether it be to forget for a night or to save everyone or anything in between. You scoffed once more at his sentiment; it was almost funny to you as much as it was slightly insulting. He continued teasing you in this way, little did he know, you liked it. He probably did know.
âI donât know. I look at you and I see someone with good intentions who wants to do what it takes or what is needed but beneath the surface I feel like, youâre too good, too timid, and too shy. Not that that is at all a bad thing, itâs hard to find someone with a heart as good as yours in a place as terrible as this.â You sat there, mouth agape, remarking at his words. Sure, there was some truth to it but you felt the same could apply to him. You could see he put off this hard exterior shell, but in reality, beneath the surface he was scared like the rest of us and hated to be alone. His rough demeanor was only a way to hide that. You saw right through it. However, there he went again thinking you were someone who wasnât capable or brave enough. Whether he truly though that or not, you would show him.
âYou think so?â You retorted deviously. You could feel the tension in the room as a thickness once again lifted in the air. The room felt hot and the air felt heavy. A surge of heat rushed to your core and you shivered slightly. Randall reached a hand out, placing it gently on your thigh and began tracing his fingers lightly from your knee to your hip, then grabbing your leg and pulling you closer to him.
The screams outside got louder as they approached and then moved on catching your attention, and drawing your eyes from him once more. You felt his hand lift from your thigh to your face, directing your gaze back to him. "I can help you tonight, and you could help meâ. He whispered, his face was soft, he seemed genuine as he caressed your cheek, watching and waiting for your reaction. You looked on, eye brows raised. You knew he could. In fact, you so badly wanted him to. This was just all happening so fast and your mind warbled trying to play catch up from the whiplash of a day you've had. The actions of the day swirling within your mind, unable to grasp at any single particular thought. âBut I bet you wonâtâ. He said with a sly smile in a toying manner.
His words spilled out of his mouth in a cascade of sarcasm. Thought he knew you, you thought, laughing internally. He definitely did and he was using a weakness he had figured out in his favor. Perhaps there were good intentions behind his teasing, you found yourself not caring. He had just unknowingly awoken an animal within you that had been asleep for so long. A primal urge washed over you as you rose to the occasion. He wanted to help you forget? Oh no, you would be helping him tonight! If you were anything, you sure as hell were not a coward. Your eyes narrowed as a calculating smile swept across your lips. You fixed your gaze upon him, examining him. What is it he should want you to do? You could think of a couple things.
You stood letting his hand slide from your thigh as you rose. His eyes followed you with that smirk still lingering on his lips. You stepped in front of him, nudging your legs between his knees, spreading them apart as you leaned in closer. Placing a hand atop each knee and kneeling further in until you were eye level with him. âIn what way would you want me to help you tonight, Randall?â you smiled innocently, mere inches from his face. You looked him up and down, stopping at his lips then meeting his eyes again. Shrugging your shoulders as if still waiting for his reply. You felt the muscles beneath your hands tense as his smile softened.
Randall slid one hand from your shoulder, up to your neck, stopping to caress your cheek. His eyes darted from yours to your lips before his hand slid gingerly behind your head to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You lifted your hands from his knees and placed them around his neck as his lips met yours in a fiery lock of passion. You immediately raised your knees on either side of his legs, straddling him and enveloping yourself into his kiss. Your heads tossing back and forth as you breathed sharply through your nose. His tongue heartily exploring your mouth. You pulled his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it before biting his soft pillowy lips and returning to the kiss with fervor.
Soft moans escaped your lips with every breath you took between kisses. You ran your hand over his chest feeling every curve and definition of his build as he used both hands to pull you closer onto him. Grasping your backside, a cheek squeezed in each hand tightly. You slid a hand under his flannel and he quickly shrugged it off, returning his attention to you. You were so enveloped in the feeling of him touching you. How long it had been you've waited for this, and how nice it felt. Your nightly fantasies becoming reality. You almost forgot what led you here, you didnât care. In this moment you were engulfed in Randall, and it was the most content youâve felt.
Randall wrapped his fingers in your hair, holding you to him as he feverishly attacked you with kisses of passion. Heavy breathing, teeth clanking, sloppy, messy, fucking fantastic. You had been slowly grinding on him as you continued kissing him. Moving your hips gently forward and back. You could feel his breath quicken as he began guiding you with his hands. Still grasping your backside, pushing and pulling you harder onto him. You could feel the wetness pool in your panties as you felt his manhood throbbing near his thigh. Only brushing against it slightly. You could feel Randall suck air through his teeth in a hiss as you continued to grind onto his length with his help.
He quickly tightened his grip, flipping you over onto the bed and standing in front of you. You took the free moment to remove your shirt, pulling it over your head, letting your hair cascade onto your bare shoulders, back, and chest. He remarked at your breasts for a moment before fumbling to kick off his shoes and undo his pants. You quickly reached out to stop him. âLet me helpâ you said in the same playfully teasing manner he had done so earlier. He grinned and put his hands up. âYouâre right.â He said then gestured âpleaseâ.
You chuckled lightly as you got down from the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of him. You looked up at him as you undid his belt. He looked on approvingly, watching as you disrobed him. The outline of his length against his pants was prominent. You rushed to pull his jeans down, then his boxers, revealing his manhood. It snapped up with force. It was quite substantial in length as well as girth, it throbbed a bruised red, glistening at the tip. You felt your core ache and your mouth water.
You grasped him at the base, taking hold of him while looking up at him. You wanted to see his face when you took him in. How smug would he be then? His face still carried that sly smile as if he thought he was in control. You gently licked the precum from his tip, eliciting a slight grunt from him as he reeled at the heat of your mouth upon him. How easy it was to break him you thought.
You continued looking up at him as you danced your tongue along his frenulum, encircling it with your tongue before slightly sucking just the tip and stopping to see his reaction. He moved to lift up his shirt, you slid your hand underneath the space he provided. You traced the veins that wound their way along his v line. His skin was so soft, yet firm. His build was so athletic and toned. Touching him made you dizzy, he was just so perfect, and tonight, youâd make him whimper.
He looked down at you, locking eyes as you opened your mouth taking him in fully. Doing your best to relax your throat and accept him, taking him in as deeply as he could go until your nose hit his mound. You could feel his hands quickly grasp your head, gathering your hair into a ponytail, held by his hands. He immediately moved to hold you there. Your hands pressed against each thigh on either side as you fought to hold your breath while your throat hitched and lurched, gagging on him. Saliva began leaking out from both corners of your lips as your face turned red and spots began to fill your vision. Tears streaming down your cheeks.
Just then he let you go, pulling you back before he could bust. You breathed in deeply, catching your breath, as he held your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks between his grip, pouting your lips. âSo, fucking beautifulâ he said between gritted teeth before returning his grip to your hair, gathering it in one fistful and holding his shirt up with the other. Before you finish catching your breath, your mouth was on him once again. Sliding his length in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat every time. You forced yourself to take him all in every time, to gag on him. You could feel his cock spasm, leaking a salty precum. Each time you felt it, a gasp would escape his lips.
He took a moment, letting go of your hair to take his shirt off before returning his grip to your head. He met each motion of your mouth with thrusts of his own as he threw his head back in ecstasy. Faint moans escaped his lips each time you took him in fully. You watched as he looked back down, his mouth open, gritting his teeth with each inhale. His eyes looked on innocently, pupils enlarged, eyebrows raised, meeting in the middle as he continued between watching you and rolling his head back. His thrusts quickened as he grabbed each side of your face before pulling you away.
You looked up at him with glistening puffy lips, wiping at the corners of your mouth as he pulled you up, meeting you with a sloppy breathy kiss. Your breasts pressed firmly against his sternum, he reached down to squeeze and paw at them with one hand as he held you close at the small of your back with the other. Your tongues glided against each other, swirling in and out of your mouths until his hands firmly pushed you back onto the bed. His face hardened once more with that smirk that he held when he was confident, when he had control.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as he gently yet forcefully undid your jeans and pulled them off of you before sliding his own off, kicking them onto the floor next to him followed by his boxers. He then gently placed a finger from each hand under the waistband of your panties. Slowly he wiggled them off of you, revealing you fully to him. You lifted yourself slightly so that he could pull them off. He carelessly tossed them aside before leaning down to kiss you once more. The cold air down below sent shivers up your spine, but warmth quickly brushed up against you and you felt yourself buck into him almost instinctively.
Your back arched as he slowly peppered kisses on his way down. Starting from your neck leading down your collarbones to your chest where he paid particular attention to your breasts giving them the full attention they deserved. He squeezed them tightly while lightly flicking his tongue over your nipple. The cold breeze from his breath intensifying the pleasure. You could feel your breath hitch once more, you ached for him, needed so badly for him to be inside you. You could feel yourself dripping for him the anticipation killing you mentally and physically.
He continued on kissing down your abdomen, laying a kiss on your belly button, kissing each hip before following it down to your mound where he gently nipped at you. You gasped at the feeling as he slid both hands under each side of each thigh, pulling you towards his face. You felt your breathing quicken as his face slowly disappeared behind your mound. Only his eyes left peeking over watching your every reaction as he slowly licked you from top to bottom. Licking up every drop of your slick. You tried hard to focus on him, the feeling of the pleasure. Your head snapped back as his tongue pressed inside you. Tasting you fully.
You let out a cry, the feeling of his tongue moving in and out of you, driving you to the brink of no return. You grabbed his head with both hands pulling him closer to you grinding into his face. He pulls away, replacing his tongue with two fingers and quickly moving his lips to your throbbing clit. He began working his fingers in and out of you as he flicked your clit gingerly with his tongue, sucking it gently between his lips. You bucked into his grip. You could feel his mouth form a smile on you as you tried so hard to grind on him, pulling his face into you once more. He continued on, fucking you even harder with his fingers, you threw your head back once again, moaning loudly in ecstasy. You felt as if you were about to explode you tried to close your legs but he used both hands to forcefully push them back open and hold them there while continuing to suck your clit furiously. He watched as your face contorted nearing your end.
Before you could feel yourself approaching your climax, he pulled his face away, hopping up onto his knees and pushing them between your legs, spreading them open and pushing himself against you. You look up at him pleadingly as his eyes hungrily wander your body. He takes his hands grabbing a top of each side of your hip, pulling you up to him and onto his thighs where he kneeled on the bed. His cock perched right at your entrance. His thumb encircled your clit, another soft moan escaping your lips. He laid you back down flat as he moved in to kiss you once more. Slowly tracing along your tongue with his, allowing you to taste yourself on him.
You once again felt him press against your entrance. Your body defied you, it was eager to know what he felt like. It bucked against him autonomously of its own accord and own volition. Not that your mind didnât agree, it just wasnât fast enough to keep up with your primal urge to be bred by this man. As if sensing your eagerness, he lifted one of your legs to your chest and leaned against it slowly pushing himself into you. âFuuuckâ he said in a low growl as he pushed the tip in, forcing himself in the rest of the way. You clenched around him as he slid inside if you, filling you completely. As tight as you were, he slid in so easily because of how insanely wet he made you. You looked deeply into his eyes as he lay his forehead upon yours. Your eyes, staring at him in a pleadingly innocent manner, almost as if you were ready to beg. His expression was fixed, stern, and focused. He looked so fucking sexy you thought. Buried deep inside you. âRandall, fuck!â You moaned in his ear in a strain watching as he pushed himself to the hilt within you.
You watched as his face slightly contorted with each thrust, how his lips thinned, and his jaw tightened. How every muscle in his body tensed, squeezing himself tightly against you. Each push was met with a moan from you, and a grunt from him as he picked up his pace. His length fully filling you with each push, bringing you so close to coming once again. The curve of his cock hitting your G-spot with each upward thrust, your body quivered and your legs shook beneath him.
âFeels so fucking good inside me!â You cried. âSo fucking deep!â You moaned once more, arching your back and meeting each thrust of his with your own. He watched how you reacted and when he thought you were really enjoying yourself, he continued those actions. He didnât lie, he was very observant. You put your leg down and crossed them both behind his back, pulling him to you closer as he continued pounding into you, throwing your head back into the comforter that lay halfway on the bed beneath you.
His thrusts grew more aggressive as he panted above you, resting his hand upon your throat to steady himself, squeezing slightly. He slowed, slipping out of you and rising up as you whimpered. With one hand he gently tapped your side, motioning for you to turn over. You climbed onto your knees in front of him. You were postured on all fours spread open for him. He slid his hand down your back, pushing you down onto the mattress, laying your chest flush against the now messy sheets and blankets. The comforter now laid on the floor in a pile of puffy fabric.
His hands gripped both sides of your hips as he crept closer to you on the bed, kneeling just behind you as you lay with your face buried, and your ass in the air. He swung his hand back and slapped your ass cheek with enough force it echoed with a âcrackâ in the room and for sure left a red print of his hand. You jumped, yelping in surprise. He quickly rubbed the spot he had slapped, caressing the hot stinging flesh he left behind.
His length pressed firmly against your opening. With his thumbs he grasped each cheek, spreading you open for him as he pushed himself inside once more. He felt even deeper now, you cried into the sheets as you turned your head to look back at him. He continued holding onto your hips, digging his hands into the crease between your thighs and your waist. His fingers rested just beyond your bikini line as they applied pressure, pulling you toward him. "You're such a good girlâ He began fucking you furiously, each thrust with the sound of a slap. You liked it when he was rough with you.
You locked eyes with him, âuse meâ was all you could muster to say in your breathlessness. His eyes darkened and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You watched behind strands of damp hair as he continued thrusting into you, harder each time. His moans low an guttural. His thrusts also became faster, pounding into your slick wet cunt like an assault, pushing you further into the mattress until your legs lay flat underneath him. He held you there like that as he continued. Placing both of his hands on your shoulders. Your face buried in the sheets, you screamed each time he buried himself within you. He was so deep, it hurt. You could feel him slam into your cervixe with each push. But it felt so fucking good. One of his hands slipped to the backside of your neck where he continued pushing, leaning in closely to peck your sweat tinged forehead as his cock continued beating into your cunt. You mewled at him, still begging for more.
He quickly and suddenly rolled you on top on him. You straddled him on the bed, his cock still twitching deep inside you. âRide meâ he said demandingly. Looking directly into your eyes with a face you would never say no to. You would do anything he demanded of you. You lifted each leg to steady yourself on your feet while remaining seated, feeling him throb within you. Watching his face twitch as you shifted positions, how his eyes watched your every move.
You met his eyes and locked gaze as you slowly began to bounce on top of him. His hands rested upon your thighs, slamming you down as you went, lifting his head from the bed and throwing it back as you continued moving up and down his length. âY/nâ he whimpered as you clenched around him. He hissed, sucking in air through his gritted teeth, using his hands to help rock you forward and backwards on top of him as you rose and fell. His face softened as you used your hands to explore his body. Caressing his abdomen and chest, reaching to his face and gently dancing your fingertips over his lips, enveloping him in a passionate kiss as you continued to grind into him. You sat up once more watching his face as you rode him. He pawed at your heaving breasts as they bounced above him. Squeezing them and caressing them.
His breathing quickened and your body felt light. You could feel his body tense underneath you. Your motions slowed as you approached your own climax. Bouncing less and grinding more, his cock, hitting the right spot every time. He reached his hands to your hips, pulling you closer onto him, pushing you back and pulling you forward. You could feel yourself clenching harder around him, focusing on the feeling.
He was grunting and breathing heavy with each push against him. He locked eyes with you once more under a furrowed brow. Watching as you writhed, and moaned atop of him, because of him. He drew great pleasure in seeing you enjoy yourself. But so did you. Focusing on his face as he felt you envelope him, feeling you from the inside. âCome for me?â you said pleadingly. He nodded, squeezing your hips, rocking you back and forth on him harder. Up, down, forward, back.
You could feel yourself tighten around him as you approached the precipice of your climax. His cock swelling inside you. Your orgasm took hold, striking through your body. You quivered and convulsed on top of him crying out loudly as you came. âFuuuck, Randall Iâm coming!â Your breath hitched as your climax ravaged your body, causing you to breath as if you had just jumped into a cold lake. You froze as the convulsions sent shockwaves through your body. You could feel his cock begin to spasm inside of you as his movements slowed, holding you to him as he pumped his seed deep within your trembling cunt. A long low animalistic groan escaped his lips, almost like a growl as he came. Each twitch of his member, filling you with the warmth of his essence. His face scrunched as his body twitched beneath you with each wave of his orgasm that swept over him. You continued riding him excruciatingly slow, letting pearls of his essence leak out of you.
As both of your breathing began to slow he reached up pulling your face towards his, stealing a sloppy tired kiss. He pushed himself up, and you slid off of him laying next to him. He then reached over, turning the knob for the bedside lamp to shut it off before sliding closer to you. Laying on the pillow beside you and facing you, he intertwines his legs with yours. His still swollen member rest a top your mid thigh as he pulled you closer to him.
He pulled the comforter from the floor to cover you, looking down at you, with one finger lifting your chin for another kiss. He closed his eyes and pressed his soft lips hard against yours, breathing in through his nose. He continued kissing your face before cradling you to his chest where you held onto him raising and wrapping one leg around him, listening to his heartbeat and being lulled to sleep by it. âThank youâ you heard him whisper while kissing the top of your head as you drifted to sleep within his arms, thinking of how sweet he was and how you managed to find a sliver of happiness here. How lucky you must be, you thought. There was no greater comfort you could ask for than Randall. In a place where you were forever lost, Randall felt like home.
Hey do you have an idea when the randall fic will be out? No pressure ofcourse im just very excited :) (if you find this rude ir uncomfortable please tell me)
No worries at all! I've been working on it for sure! Im sorry it's taking longer than normal. My mania has worn off, and i started a new job, so im having to re-adjust my schedule. Normally, i would write for hours on end and put out stories weekly. I would give it another week. Possibly sooner as i am very invested in Randall!! Thank you so much for your support!! I appreciate it so much and it motivates me daily to keep grinding on these fics!! đ
Summary: Y/N is the newest arrival to the township. Amongst all the townsfolk, she takes a liking to the most unlikable guy in town when things go awry at the colony house. How will she survive the night?Â
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, DubCon (kinda), breeding, public sex, exhibitionism, drug use, mentions of DV, mentions of violence (murder), swearing, fem!reader, romantic smut, aftercare (he deserves that and more!)Â
A/N: Randall Kirkland needs love, y'all!! You know, under that cold abrasive exterior, he's a total softie with a good heart! From is such a great show, I love Randall and will protect him at all costs!!! Story is cannon, no spoilers for new season, but it's definitely the reason I wrote it⌠especially after ep. 6. Randall is baby girl!! Please enjoyyy! I love and appreciate you all! Feel free to reach out anytime! I welcome all interaction! Â
Word Count: 5.4k
FOCUS ON ME
Stepping back into colony house was heavy after last night. Donna and Boyd were outside at first light to cover and remove the body of yet another victim to these creatures. You often reminisced of your days before this nightmare you were trapped in. Wishing, hoping to wake up. You arrived in the township by yourself, close to sunset. The folks at colony house were welcoming albeit, strange. You understood now. Often disassociating from the truth and drowning yourself in a journal or sneaking off to vape THC, often walking in the woods, trying to make sense of things, to find⌠something. Like everyone's first night, you struggled to take in what this place was, what it did to people, not wanting or willing to trust anyone. There was no answers or information as to why this was all happening, no one communicated, and you felt alone. Everyone else seemingly accepting their fates. Except one person. A guy by the name of Randall who people whispered about in the colony house. After hearing some not so stellar rumors about fighting and guns, you initially opted to stay away. Not just from him but closing yourself off to others as well. Sure, some of them seemed nice, but you knew no one or the circumstances that led you to this place. It just didnât make sense. It was hard to trust anyone, truly.Â
After your third night here, you awoke from maybe two hours of sleep to find people rummaging through your things. Personal items mixed with sentimental items that you once thought held value. You were in the middle of a move, taking only your most precious items with on the initial voyage from Key West to Seattle escaping from a violent DV situation literally upheaving your entire life. A new life, new beginnings and new opportunities you had once looked forward to. That was before the tree appeared in the road and the crows circled above. Â
The car alarm was jarring waking you from an unrestful sleep, you bolted out the door to see people with handfuls of your clothes, bagging up your journals and other personal effects. It felt as if they were taking what was left from your old life, what made you, you. Without hesitation you started ripping your items from the hands of the thieves. One of the women started yelling while trying to yank back your things, you didnât hear her and acted out, launching a solid fist into her jaw causing her to fall back as others went to restrain you trying to talk about the rules, and other things you were too upset to hear. Â
This place was already loathsome enough, you thought. âYou can't take my things!â You yelled as people held you back, each holding one arm. You bucked and screamed until they let go and you fell to the ground. A crowd had begun to form on the porch, watching you. You could feel the heat of anger and embarrassment rise in your cheeks. You pant in defeat, looking at the ground sobbing as people loaded your things into the home. Boots appeared in front of you and a hand reached down. A deep voice spoke out âHere, stand upâ You recognized the face immediately as Randall, who had wandered over after hearing the commotion. Him and some folks from town were trying to build some kind of radio tower near the garden. Â
You took his hand and stood, dusting off the front of your pants where wet dirt had stained your knees. âDonât let them see you like thisâ he whispered. âGive her back her shit!â He yelled to the crowd. Donna stepped forward demanding everyone calm down, she then firmly reminded Randall of the rules if âsheâ wanted to stay here. âAs a community, we have to share everything equallyâ she had said to him while looking at you. âMy journals? My clothes? Are you serious? Its all I have!â You said wanting to swing again but refraining, what good would it do. Your stuck with everyone here anyway. âThat or you can do as Randall here did and leave if you don't like the rulesâ she said directly to you in a condescending manor. Â
You storm off in a huff, not wanting to display any more emotion than you already have. You walked away fists clenched and head down when you heard footsteps beside you. âThank you.â You said. Looking up and meeting his eyes. It was Randall. His smoldering gaze made your breath catch in your throat. He stood at least a foot or more taller than you, athletic build, clean shaved buzz cut, hazel-green eyes, and a dimpled chin. Funny you thought, all the talk about him, how terrible he is, how difficult he can be, and yet he was the only person to stick up for you. Â
âIts bullshit, you know it, I know it. They tried that with me too when I got here.â He said as you two continued walking away. âWhat did you do? Did you get your things back?â You asked. âYeah eventually, and they kicked me out because of it. Didnât want to follow their rulesâ he said with a half grin. âI stay in the bus away from everyone else.â He lamented. Explaining how Donna had showed him how to use the talisman and wished him luck as he took his things. "Wow. What a peach," you said. âI'm Randall, by the wayâ he said while sticking a hand out. You reached to shake it âY/Nâ you replied. Â
It was nice talking to someone, you had felt alone here for the past few days, even more so when they began taking your things, it felt like your identity being stripped away. He seemed to understand, and vice versa, you understood him and his reasoning. He had already come to terms with some new truths about this place having been here longer, but you were still taking it all in, or rather, bottling it up and pushing it away. Whatever worked really. âSo, where are you going?â He asked while walking beside you. âI guess, just for a walk to clear my head. Wanna come?â You asked, flashing a smile at him. âSure. Anything to get awayâ you both chuckled as you led the way to the tree line.Â
You learned a lot from him that day you first met him. You exchanged stories of your lives before, where you were going, what you were doing prior. He spoke candidly with you. It was truly refreshing. Sure, he was abrasive and blunt. You could see that on the surface, but somewhere below, you could see he was kind, that he cared, and that he, like the rest of us, was scared. You found it easy to talk to him and it was nice having conversations that didnât completely revolve around death or scary night serial killer creatures. It was a nice escape from reality, one you both suffered from and needed badly. Spending much of your walk laughing and cracking jokes. His humor was dark much like your own, something you appreciated. You quickly found yourself wanting to talk to him all the time. He was relatable and understanding. He exuded strength and confidence and a no bullshit demeanor. Everyone else seemed so fake, or so lost.Â
Although your conversations mostly remained light, he did speak about the people here too, about not trusting anyone, and how no one has really done anything or tried to figure this all out. He explained that living in the bus was hard, the creatures came every night like a routine, he studied them closely. Trying to find weaknesses, vulnerabilities, any information really. You two had stopped for a while. You remembered you had your pen in your pocket and asked him if he was ok with it. "Do you mind if I uh" you said as you wiggled the pen in your fingers. âNahâ he said with a grin. He stood taking stock of the environment you found yourselves in as smoke billowed from your lips into the cold morning air. You nonchalantly hold the pen out to him while also examining the environment. He looked down and grabbed the pen before clicking the button and drawing from the mouthpiece. Eliciting a couple small coughs from him. âThanks, needed to take the edge offâ he said while trying to catch his breath as you two began the trek back to town. You hadn't wandered off too far, never did in fear of getting lost before dark. Â
He walked back to colony house with you. You didnât want to go back, wasnât ready to after this morning but nightfall approached. Randall stopped at the steps as you ascended. âThank you, for today. I was really struggling, so, I appreciate you talking with me. It was nice.â You said with a coy smile. He nodded âTomorrow weâll get your stuff back okay.â He said. âThank you, please be safe.â You lamented, truly hoping he made it through the night. You at least found solace in knowing you made a friend here. Knowing that made you feel less alone, but when you were on the couch at night as the creatures roamed the streets as Randall watched. You felt more alone than ever. A resident walked by wearing your shoes. You rolled your eyes and turned over, waiting for the night to be over. Tomorrow you would get your things back. You decided you weren't coming back to colony house. Maybe you could stay with someone in town, but you just couldnât stay sane in a house full of people, especially when they were taking your things. You drifted off thinking of Randall, and what it must be like to stay on the bus at night. Â
You were awoken by screaming. Someone had gotten killed last night and their body was left in the road in town. You heard residents chatter as Donna left to help dispose of the body. Before your mind could fully wake your body pulled itself up and ran for the door. You walked over to town, not wanting to see the body, but wanting to make sure it wasnât Randall. A crowd formed around the body as Boyd tried to control the commotion with his hands waving telling people to move back. The bus was down the street a bit further away when you saw the door open and Randall step out to see what happened, who had gotten killed. Boyd gave his speech about safety at night and not trusting the creatures. You found yourself walking over to the bus where Randall stood arms crossed leaning against the open door. He straightened as you approached. âLet's go get your thingsâ he said. âNo one needs your journals and shit but you!â He said while starting to walk. Â
The crowds were all down near the diner speculating about last night's murder. Only one or two people were at the house. You began collecting your personal effects from the rooms and basement where much of it was stored, mixed with other linens in a chest. âWhat if they donât let me stay anymoreâ you said, voice full of concern. Randall set a bag down thinking for a moment. âThen you can stay in the bus with me.â The words sent shivers down your spine. The bus seemed so unsafe; he spoke about how vulnerable it made him feel. No shades for the windows, no pretending like everything is ok at night like the others have the luxury of doing. But it also excited you in a way. Randall was the only person here youâve connected with, and on a deep level. You felt compelled to stay with him for reasons that can only be blamed on your hormones and lack of social life here. Maybe you would both be better off if neither of you were alone. You could feel heat rise in your cheeks as you continued to pack your things and head for the bus.Â
After dropping off your things to the bus Randall was kind enough to help you carry, you both opted for another walk in the woods. It was a calmer environment; it was almost like being taken away from the commotion and despair that was the township and the townsfolk. Randall was a breath of fresh air. He saw through the bullshit and told it like it is. You appreciated his directness, especially when it came to you. âThey think what they're doing is right, but they have no idea, no one does" you could sense the frustration in his voice. An emotion you shared. You agreed. âI get people are scared, we all are, but why can't anyone come together and think of something more than a temporary fix. These talismans are Band-Aids over a bigger issue were almost ignoring or just not trying hard enough to figure out. How many people are here, have been here, with nothing to show for it? With no answers as to why or how?â Randall shook his head. âSee, you get itâ he said as he reached to grab the pen from your hand. Â
You two had found a log to sit and chat. Remarking at the landscape, trying to find something, anything really. Every answer he found only led to more questions, but at least he was trying rather than ignoring it like nothing ever happened. Like we all just chose to live here, to be here. Neither him nor you accepted that sentiment. He wanted out just like you did. But in the meantime, at least you had each other in a way. Â
He never said anything but it seemed like he enjoyed your company. Willingly going on walks with you and talking for hours about anything. You were both a nice distraction for each other from the daily depression of existence within the confines of this horrible place. You found solace in him. A warm presence like protection and safety. That night you two had stayed awake for the most part talking through the screeches and screaming heard in the distance. Helping one another to ignore the words of the creatures when they would tap on the bus windows asking to come inside. It was scary but you two got through it. Â
He had been used to this for some time. As used to it as someone could get, you supposed. But he was able to help you through your first night on the bus. âFocus on meâ he said when they wandered to the window at the seat you occupied. He sat next to you and reached for your hand squeezing tightly. âJust focus on meâ. The words he spoke echoed in your mind that evening until it darkened with slumber. Â
You must have drifted off at some point because you awoke at first daylight as the sun began streaming into the windows. Randall was still sitting next to you. Had he held your hand all night? You must have fallen asleep on him. He could have shifted or asked you to move so he could sleep as well. But he didnât. He sat there with you all night as your head rest upon his shoulder. When you moved, he jumped suddenly, eyes shot open and looking around. âHey, hey, it's okay.â You said grabbing his leg and shaking it gently. He immediately relaxed. Â
âBad dream?â You asked. âNo. No I uh, I just never really fall asleep in here. Sorry.â He spoke in a soft voice. âI haven't been able to sleep much at all my self since I've been here. But I was able to last night. I have you to thank for thatâ you looked on as he processed what you said. âDonât worry about it. I should uh, thank you too. Having you here I guess, made it easier for me. Not having to be alone when those things show up.â He said clearing his throat and shifting slightly in his seat. âI appreciate you letting me sleep here. And I'm sorry about falling asleep on youâ you said sheepishly. Â
He grabbed your hand once more âLike I said, donât worry about it.â A light smile lingered on his lips before he left. He had gone up to colony house again. Him and a few others that he was able to gather, had left to scavenge materials for the radio tower they were building. He would be gone for a while, so you spent your day mostly in the woods searching for answers, stopping by the diner for a quick meal then returning to the bus before nightfall. Â
You sat in the fourth row back from the entrance. There was a break in seating here and room for your things in front of you without feeling crowded. This was normally where he would sit. You sat and journaled about your day, about last night. Jotting down ideas, possible relations between happenings and the effects, trying to make sense of things. The familiar ding of the nightly bell Boyd used to warn the townsfolk rang on the distance as the sky began to darken. Â
You realized Randall wasnât back at the bus yet. Your mind spiraled into worry. You panicked rushing to the bus door closing it and waiting for him to arrive. You looked in all directions when you spot him emerge from by the clinic. Heâs running to the bus as those creatures slowly follow behind him ever so menacingly. You open the door before he gets to it yelling for him to hurry. He rushes in and runs to a seat. You shut the door behind him insuring its fully closed then rush to help him. Was he hurt? What was going on? He was frantically tearing at his clothes and swatting as if there was something near him.Â
You stepped close to him trying to calm him, it was as if he could hear you but couldnât respond. You could see he was scared and was seeing something you couldnât, his eyes flickered looking at something. Not odd for this place but nonetheless, you were concerned. He was back on the bus, but was he actually safe? What happened out there? You wondered as you tried to calm him. âRandall! Hey! Itâs me youâre okay!!â You tried to consol him. You grabbed onto him holding his arms and entering his vision. He was sunk into the seat eyes still wide with fear. You put your weight on him, straddling him in the seat grabbing his face trying to redirect his attention. âRandall!â You yelled helplessly. You were scared, unsure what else to do in this moment. Unsure how to help.Â
He sat with you on top of him, still unphased. Itâs as if he was stuck in a waking nightmare. Suddenly all you could think was to potentially shock his system somehow to take him out of it. "Randall, focus on me, okay?â You lean in quickly, pressing your lips to his, breathing deeply through your nose. Laughter could be heard coming from the creatures that had gathered around the bus. You ignored them. You continued kissing him. Softly pressing your lips to his watching his reaction. His eyes went half lidded before flickering shut. Â
His breathing slowed and body stopped trembling. He kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You embraced it and closed your eyes. You didnât expect that. You pulled away for a moment examining his expression, wanting to know if he was out of the woods so to speak. âAre you okay?â You asked. He looked at you with surprise. âWhy did you do that?â He spoke softly, still holding you to him. âI'm so sorry. I didnât know what else to do, I just wanted to shock your system or something. I had to pull you out of that! I was scared for you, and you showed up past dark and-" he cut you off suddenly, pulling your face back to his. You melted in his grasp, returning the kiss with fervor. You wrapped your arms around him while he pulled you closer as your tongues searched each other's mouths, teeth clashing as you vigorously and passionately kiss.Â
Somewhere outside there was knocking at the windows of the bus as the creatures taunted you. Neither him nor you paid attention. Your focus remained on each other. As long as the talisman hung from the frame of the bus within and the doors and windows were shut, you were fine as far as you knew. Not accounting for whatever happened to Randall. Regardless of what it was you were able to redirect his attention and pull him back, putting his focus back on you.Â
Moans escaped your lips as his hands caressed your back, sides, and hips, rocking you on him. You could begin to feel the stillness grow in his pants. It was hard to ignore as it pressed against your thigh. His hands slid under the backside of your shirt; you could feel the cold air from the bus creep underneath. You took a moment to pull your shirt up over your head, fully immersing yourself in the heat of the moment. You weren't even thinking about those things outside watching. Let them, you thought.Â
You caught his gaze after removing your shirt, his eyes met yours with a look of longing. You felt the same, the need. You had only been alone here for less than a week, he had been here for months. You could only imagine how alone he must have felt. Your heart ached for him, but your body lusted. You could feel heat envelope every part of you, concentrating in your groin where you began to throb for him. Your hand wandered his body, exploring every muscle, every curve and line, tracing it with your fingers, following where it led. He continued rocking your hips into him, his face now stern with concentration as he looked in your eyes watching you squirm as he rocked you slowly forward then slowly back.Â
The look in his eyes as he watched you soaked your panties, that, and the friction he applied. But the way he looked at you, like he needed you, drove the innermost primal part of you absolutely insane. You began rocking with his grip, pushing yourself onto his stillness. Your head flung back as he began pressing kisses to your dĂŠcolletage, biting at the fleshy mounds beneath your bra breathing heavily.Â
You slid a hand between you and him down to his waistline tugging at the buttons on his jeans. He motioned to undo them and took them and his boxers off. You stood and slid your pants and panties down as well, taking them off completely before returning to his lap. You grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself as you put your knees on either side of him, while he slapped your ass. You cried out at the sting of the slap that reverberated through the silence of the bus. He looked up at you and grinned, rubbed up your thighs to your backside, grabbing a handful of flesh in each hand and bringing you in for another passionate kiss. Â
Your chest heaved against his as you lustfully devoured him. You could feel him even firmer now. You were soaking wet; he must feel it you thought as you mindlessly grinded against his length. After breaking from the kiss, you lean your forehead to his looking into his eyes then down at your hand that was moving to grip him. He gasped as you took hold of him, stroking him slowly as you looked into his eyes. He was rock hard and throbbing. His tip sticky with precum. You used your fingers to spread it around before scooting yourself against him and sliding his length up and down your slit. Â
Your hand held him firm to you as you slightly moved up and down. His manhood throbbing against your clit as he slid so easily against your slick cunt. He had been pawing at your flesh, squeezing, pinching and scratching at your back as you teased him. His face buried between your breasts sucking and biting. He would reach up and grab them and caress them, running his tongue over them leaving a trail of cooled skin behind that made you shiver every time he breathed. Â
He would look up at you periodically, watching your face enjoy him. The hand you used to hold him against you slowly started applying pressure until he was at your entrance, and you slowly slid down, taking time to accept his size within you. You cried out as he breached, just the tip making you want more. You slid down fully, watching his face contort as you forced him inside you. You were dripping wet yet he was quite substantial, so you felt yourself stretch as he entered. Â
You wrap your arms around his neck as you start to slowly grind and bounce on top of him. His hands were back at your hips trying to control the speed, pushing you down on him harder each time. His look was stern as he focused on you, looking directly into your eyes as he met every bounce of yours with a thrust of his own. Each thrust drawing a cry from you. Your moans and cries of passion paired with his grunts and heavy breathing, drowned out all the outside noise. All the screaming all the nightmarish things just beyond the windows were now worlds away. They could probably hear you over at colony house with how intense it was, how loud he had you. You pick up your knees bringing your feet onto the seat on either side of him, grabbing his shoulders as you continue to ride him.Â
His head fell back against the seat eyes closed as he used his hands placed under your thighs to help lift you as you rose and fell against his length. A look of relaxation and serenity you had never seen on him before. You provided a peaceful temporary escape for him. You watched as his chest rose and fell with each panting breath that escaped his lips. You watched how his lips quivered with each passing exhale. You reach a hand up from his shoulders and caress his face softly, he burrowed his cheek into your embrace. You cradled him as he looked at you adoringly. You wondered what he was thinking.Â
You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he grabbed you and flipped you onto the seat. He hovered above you as you pulled your knees to your chest. He pushed heavily against you, leaning into your knees, filling you completely. He leaned back slightly, grabbing behind your knees, placing your ankles upon his shoulders as he began drilling into you. The pain he must have experienced here, the things he's seen. You couldnât imagine. You wanted him to take it all out on you, to have you exactly how he would want. All of his frustrations, anger, and fear, pounded into your readily waiting cunt. You wanted to give him that release, anything to take the pain away, even if only for a moment.Â
Your legs clung loosely around his neck as he continued pressing his weight against you, forcing loud moans to escape your lips every time he buried himself within you, hitting your cervix. He was so enveloped in you. Watching your face twist with every thrust against you. Â
He needed this, but so did you, perhaps neither one of you knew. It would have eventually led here though you thought. He was the only one in town you found yourself able to relate to, the only one who stood up for you. Whatever ideas or thoughts people had about him were wrong. They just didnât know him or understand him. This place makes people crazy; everyone reacts differently. Itâs a big change to adapt to that no one wants to.Â
Enveloped in your thoughts about him as the pleasure began to become overwhelming, you pulled your legs back down spreading them wide and wrapping them around his back as you tugged on his shirt, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. Holding him as close to you as you could. You took his tongue into your mouth, sucking it and pulling from the kiss with a gentle bite to his lip. This only made his motions increase furiously. He slammed into you continuously, teeth gritted, eyes narrow. A wave of pleasure washed over you emanating from your core, a sensation that began taking over your entire body. You clawed at his back, leaving red lines trailing your fingernails, it made him shiver under your touch. He could tell you were close; he was too. âPlease, donât stop!â You cooed in his ear. Â
The creatures still outside could be heard chattering near the windows. Why were they watching? Maybe it mattered, maybe it didnât. Right now, it didnât, Randall was your focus and you-his. You had managed to pull him from his waking nightmare, however difficult that may have been. You did it, you helped him. Whatever control they had over him, was not present when he was with you.Â
Hearing your plea, he maintained his rhythm as your legs began to quiver and shake around him. You squeezed your legs tightly around him as you arched your back, meeting his thrusts with your own enthusiasm. Still holding him close, his forehead resting against yours, your eyes watched each other approach the precipice of climax, focusing only on one another. You could feel him begin to pulsate within you as your own climax began to coalesce. Your walls clenching tightly around him as he buried himself to the hilt. No longer able to hold on. As your own climax eclipsed his. The pulsating of his member echoed by your own quivering climax. You both erupted. Your moans filling the air of the bus and beyond. The feeling, immeasurable, as he let out an animalistic groan, thrusting into you with every pulsating shot of his essence that painted your insides. You could feel each pump, burning you from within, a fire you so badly desired. Â
His face relaxed, shoulders dropped, every ounce of tension left his body with his seed, spilled deep within you. Your bodies, both shaking with exhaustion and satisfaction. Temporary focus offering temporary relief for you both. He slumped beside you cradling you to him with his large arms wrapped around you. You felt his breath on your neck, still heavy but slowing, his stillness pressed against your back as pearls of his desire dripped from your core, slowly leading a trail down your thigh. Â
He pulled a blanket draped over the seat behind him and spread it over you and him with one arm. You turned your head slightly to him and raised a palm to stroke his cheek as you planted a kiss upon his lips before turning back around. He looked at you admiringly, his eyes soft and a smile that touched the corners of his lips. He kissed the back of your head before cradling himself in the crook of your neck as he held you close to him. "Thank you for letting me stay here with you.â You felt him nod and his arms squeeze you tighter. âI'm not going anywhere; you donât have to tell me what's going on if you donât want to. Just know I'm here, you're not alone, and my focus is on you.â You spoke candidly in a loving voice. He only nuzzled his face into your neck further, peppering your shoulder with light kisses as he quickly drifted to sleep.Â
Summary: Y/N is new to beacon hills but not new to constantly having to move. She only hopes for temporary stability and kindness from others when her past begins to catch up with her as it always does. Will she explain herself to the boy she's gotten the attention of, or will she move again to avoid destruction? (Characters in college)
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, obsession, groping, angst, oral (m recieving), mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA, mentions of NonCon, swearing, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff
A/N: Coming back to rewatch MTV's Teen Wolf and falling in love with Stiles all over again so we had to do a smutty fic. It's heavily inspired by my love of fairy lore and cryptozoology as a whole... and of course... Stiles. Duh! Thinking of void Stiles as well. More to come, stay tuned. Please, enjoy!! And as always, i love all the support and appreciate all the interaction!! Cheers!
Word Count: 8k
THE PROBLEM WITH PORTALS
Walking into class late was the worst. You knew everyone's eyes would be drawn to you. Especially when you're the new girl, and not just the new girl, the creepy loner new girl with a sketchy checkered past who is also a supernatural being. So that's cool.
You could hear the other people snicker and whisper behind your back. The rumors they created in the absence of knowledge just basic human nature. They'd say you kept moving because you're violent, that you set your last school on fire, and that you were a killer. It wasn't your job to make them smarter, to explain yourself in any way. You liked it this way. If they thought you were unapproachable, it saved you time. No attention, no trouble. Trouble is what you've been trying to avoid, hence the reason you had to move. Again.
This was the second school this year. You had already grown tired of trying to make friends long ago after years and years, nor connections of any kind. There was no way for you to know if it was ever genuine anyway. Every man, student, and faculty member alike pined for you. The women hated you because their crushes and boyfriends' attention was always lured away. You were deemed a slut even though you never spent more than a few months at any school, not long enough to even get comfortable talking to someone let alone sleep with them. It was no fault of your own, just a by product of who you were.
Unfortunately for you, your secrets weren't as simple as the others had postulized. You wished you were "kicked out of your last school for inciting violence." However, that wasn't actually the case, just what's written on the transcripts. No, the male population went berserk fighting over who would get you as if you were a prize to be won. It caused a fire to erupt from the violence that ensued. The school was going to blame you anyway, but you moved once again due to the pressing dangers.
They were drawn to you, wanting to posses you. Their eyes void of emotion, just blank. You felt like you were being hunted every day of your life. No one could ever know or understand your truth. Your family wasn't like other families. You felt you stood out like a sore thumb. You did everywhere you went. Why would Beacon Hills be any different?
Your presence caused chaos amongst men. An incomprehensible obsession like a trance would take over, drawn helplessly to you. It led to trauma from your past. Men had tried to kidnap you, assault you, or worse, try to kill you if they couldn't have you. Always controlled by some unknown urge you didn't even understand. Friends, teachers, doctors, neighbors, if they were human, they couldn't resist your pull. It was a curse. You just wanted to be normal, to live a normal life. Have friends, go on dates, to know what it's like to have something in common with someone... anyone. Scarier even were the creatures that hunted those like yourself. Wanting to steal you vitality, your essence, and use you as a conduit between worlds. An ever-present fear.
Your mother had told you about the creatures of the woods and the woods themselves before her untimely passing, and the part it plays in your identity. "Y/N," she said. "We were born to the trees. We live our lives amongst them while we're here. That's why you love nature. it's within you as a nymph to be drawn home. The trees are the closest we can get for now. " She went on to explain that the reason why human men suffer this fatal attraction to them is because they are not of this realm. Their beauty alone is too powerful for this world. It's unnatural. The things a Fae is calable of here are just survival traits in their natural realm and too much for humans to bear. They are rendered helpless, weak, and unable to understand their urge. But the window to their plane was closed long ago. Your mother was long gone, no family to speak of. You only had your deity guardian. She spoke in riddles and had become increasingly weak to the point that you were now her caregiver. It was hard. She was all you had, all you knew, the only true protector. As a nymph cursed to the mortal coil, it caused so many divides in your life. You stopped trying to please anyone, stopped trying to have relationships, whether platonic or romantic. You did your best not to be perceived. Easier said than done when you are late to class and have to walk in front of everyone.
You walked down the aisle, avoiding prying eyes, holding your books close to your chest as you chose a seat near the back. It was only your first week here, and already you could feel this place was different. Still, your problems always seemed to follow. Not just the unwanted attention, but the missing time and missing memories, waking up in the woods, people disappearing, and the mushrooms and flowers that sprouted at your feet as you walked, creating cirlces in the mulch. You were always quick to make sure they never encirlced you. It always left you worse off, made you dizzy, feeling like you were torn between two worlds, neither here nor there. Still not truly understanding what it all meant.
As you took a seat in the back, an announcement came over the loud speaker. It said something about missing persons and the power of numbers and a possible curfew to be updated by the sheriff. It was starting again. Two boys sitting in front of you spoke in hushed voices in what seemed like a serious conversation. You couldn't help but overhear. "That's two this week, Scott!" The boy on the left said. "I told you it was something! But its different this time, theres no trace of them, its something new." He stole a glance looking over his shoulder, catching your gaze before returning to his conversation. You quickly shot your eyes down. He was remarkable. He had a lean build, brown hair with a buzz cut, and deep brown eyes that burned a hole through you. His friend he was talking to 'Scott' he had said was of similar height, more athletic build with longer black hair, you couldn't see his face yet. Something about him was darker, though. You could sense it. You twirled a pencil on the desk pretending not to listen. "Stiles! Something you'd like to share with the class?" The professor interrupted. The boy who caught your gaze, Stiles, the teacher, had said, shook his head and stammered unexpectedly. "Uh no, no." The professor turned back to their lecture as he again turned to his friend in a hushed voice."I did some research on portals, and we gotta figure this out, man. i have an idea. Later." he whispered. His friend looked over his shoulder. A smoldering gaze caught your eye before he turned back to Stiles and nodded in affirmation. The gazes felt targeted, but you couldn't be sure it was just your default thought as your own mechanism of protection against others. Class continued on without much excitement. You wondered to yourself, who those guys were, aside from their names, how did they expect to find the missing students? They had no idea what they were dealing with. Although, a noble effort, you hadn't even managed to figure this out yet, or you'd be able to maybe stay in one place.
You rushed out of the back doors, avoiding the crowds using the front. You wandered over to your favorite reading spot for respite amongst the trees that lined the field. You walked past the lacross team, filling the open space. Equipment strewn everywhere as they practiced. You noticed two familiar faces from class earlier. Stiles and Scott were on the field. You sat in a pile of leaves, quickly encircled by oily caps, and babies' breath starting at your feet. You didn't mind. You were distracted today. The woods were a buzz, leaving your skin tingling. You couldn't lie to yourself, stiles had a certain air about him. Something you couldn't quite define, but drew you in nonetheless. You tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you picked up your book but found yourself watching him again.
Of course, you always wanted a relationship, some kind of connection. Craved it for years and years, but it was never real. It was lonely. As much as you would push yourself from the thought and remiss to just being ok alone, a part of you still yearned for companionship for a somewhat social life in any form. What it must be like to have someone who sees you for you, who knows who you are in your heart and not what they see or can't understand. You watched as they one by one took turns shooting goals. Something about him, you thought. He looked at me but didn't see through me. His eyes didn't immediately glaze over into that half lidded trance of a stare. But he was human, you thought, what kind of human could resist that urge. You felt a mixture of shame and interest, wanting to know more, wanting to know why. You caught Stiles looking in your direction quite often. You chuckled when the coach called him out on it, demanding, "Keep your eyes on the prize, Stilinski, or you'll be back on the bench!" He seemed unphased by the coaches words only a quick head nod before pulling his mask back down and turning to aim.
After a while of watching, you were able to find the strength to zone out in your book. You were unsure how long you had been there, but the sun had already begun to set over the lining of the trees. You gathered your book bag and started making your way off the field. There were still a few people from the game lingering on the field as you neared to pass. You saw the two you had been watching from class earlier. Scott was sitting down on a bench, removing his safety gear while Stiles stood in front of him, holding his helmet with one hand and wildly gesturing with the other. Scott looked up to see you heading in their direction, book in hand clutched to your chest. He looked at Stiles and motioned toward you. Stiles immediately shot a look back and turned back to his friend. They both stopped speaking and watched as you passed. It made you feel nervous, but they didn't follow. You were thankful yet perplexed. Unusual behavior, not typical of what you were used to. It was nice in a way, but it made you question things a little more deeply.
Upon arrival at your home, you went to check on your guardian. She was in her room in a chair facing the window. She was like this every day. You thought you would try and speak with her today. Maybe get some answers about this place. "The woods here feel different." You spoke. "They feel electric almost, everytime i step within them, my skin buzzes and mushrooms and flowers grow around me, but not like before, the windows open right away! It's like, theres a power here I can sense but can't see. What is this place? Why did we move here?" You asked, hoping to get answers and not riddles. Something with meaning, something tangible bit knowing you wouldn't. "We came for the trees, dear." She said blissfully. "The trees and water that run through the woods in Beacon Hills is special to us. Revitalizes us and invigorates our true being. Beacon Hills is a place of much power. It draws to all supernatural creatures alike." She said without ever looking away from the window. "The claws, teeth, and scales of this place do not fear us. Isn't it nice?"
Your jaw nearly dropped. She spoke in a way that actually made sense to you. No riddles, full sentences. Her posture remained the same as well as the look on her face. But something was different. Perhaps it was the trees, perhaps it was this place? A hot spot for the supernatural? Was it somewhere you could stay? Where people weren't affected by us? As if reading your mind, she spoke once more. "They are the only ones who can tolerate us. Them, and sometimes those close to them who have opened themselves up to our world and have been touched by the other side. We still deal with present dangers from typical humans, so it's best to still keep a distance." The conversation ended abruptly with your guardian motioning to her bed. You helped her in, watching her gaze never leave the window.
You wished her a good night and headed to your room. Your mind weighed heavily on what she had said. Still, it changed nothing. People were still going missing. You knew it was because of the fairy rings that sprouted at your feet in the woods. It created the windows, the overlap of worlds, and people were walking in and not coming out. You didn't know how to stop it, never did. If this place was truly a supernatural persons territory. Perhaps there were those more knowledgeable than you on this. Perhaps there were others like you, nymphs who understood and controlled their reality, lest your guardian really started communicating. Something you didn't count on.
Your rest was tinged with excitement and anxiety. You could use this information to deduce who was a supernatural and who wasn't in a way. All you had to do was see how people reacted to your presence. It was all in the eyes. Those two boys in class, they had barely paid any attention to you, and your mind wondered what they could be. What kind of creatures inhabited Beacon Hills? Were they fae friendly? What if they found out the recent disappearances were because of you? How would they react? Would they help, or would they hunt you as well?
This morning, you skipped reading and headed straight for class sitting in the back again. As students poured in the class, you looked for the faces you had become familiar with but only saw one. Stiles entered and threw his bag down on the seat next to him in front of you. You pretended not to notice as he stole glances at you over his shoulder. You were in class, but he was studying you, your every move. As uncomfortable as this made you, it was nice as it wasn't paired with the crazy eyes that usually came with those glances. He seemed nice, a welcome feeling.
The professor announced that everyone needed to pair up. This was the worst. You would obviously rather work alone. Before even looking up from your textbook, the boy in front of you 'Stiles' turns around and speaks to you. "Wanna team up? Names Stiles by the way, " he said while turning in his seat and leaning a hand out over the back. You glanced at his face, then to his hand. A look of bewilderment must have crossed your face and been obvious as he immediately shrunk down and pulled his hand back, tightening his lips and shaking his head, mumbling something under his breath.
You had never seen reactions like this from men. They were always so confident in their approaches to you, running off pure pride with a gluttonous need for you. They way he acted was endearing. You felt your face soften as you tried to respond. "Im sorry, im just not used to people being nice to me. Im Y/N. You want to come sit here or me there?" He nearly fell out of seat at the words, frantically scrambling to grab his books and backpack to sit next to you. He did so in a huff before pulling his seat close and settling. You watched in amusement as he picked up items that fell in his haste. He was cute. You felt a smile touch your lips. How long had it been since you could smile? You thought.
After he had sat, he turned to you, saying, "I find it hard to believe no one's nice to you." he said in an awkwardly flirtacious way. "Really?" You say. "Have you not heard what people say about me? How certain people look at me?" His face went blank, and he looked away as if thinking of a response. He stammered. "Well, I think some people are bored... and being new and so uh... yeah... uh yeah, they're just you know, dumb." A smile crossed your face. "Wow, truer words have never been spoken," you chuckled sheepishly.
You two spent the rest of class working on an electrophoresis lab stealing glances at each other. The casing kept leaking buffer. You joked about the electric current, possibly shocking you, knowing it wouldn't. Electricity acted differently around you. Still, he took the lead, sensing your apprehension masked as a dark joke and carefully connected the currents. It was straightforward and pretty simple after that, yet you struggled with measurements for whatever reason. Perhaps it was molecule size. No matter what you thought. His presence was reassuring. He spoke kindly to you. You found yourself wanting to scoot closer but holding back. He was adorable, the way he focused when working sticking his tongue out as his thoughts coalesced into words on a page. You watched in admiration. You haven't liked a guy like this in so long, always avoiding that potential pain, not wanting to put yourself or others in danger again. There was just something different about him.
"So, i heard you talking with your friend yesterday about the missing students. What do you think happened?" His eyes widened, and you immediately felt intrusive. "Yeah, you uh, heard that, huh? Well, it's been sort of an 'ongoing' issue. My friends and I are just trying to get to the bottom of it before it's one of us, " he said while tapping his pencil to the desk, head cooked, and a thousand yard stare. "I hope you find them." You spoke thoughtfully in a hushed tone. You felt the weight of your words as they left your lips. You felt terrible, but knew there was nothing you could do except maybe move again. But you were starting to like it here. That was always the way it went. Even if this place did feel different.
You watched him, his mannerisms. Trying to figure out what he was, how he withstood the urge so many have around you. He fawned over you. Sure, you could tell he had an attraction. You could see it in how you made him act, how he reacted to you and around you. You had gotten really good at reading people. He was a bit harder to read just because you weren't used to this behavior, so far from the norm you had adjusted to for so long. After having dealt with false attraction many times before, you could tell he was genuine. This is just how he was. Silly, awkward, caring, and kind. It was refreshing. It almost felt unreal, the conversation flowed, and there were no innuendos or comments about your body or beauty. It was like a breath of fresh air. He was boisterous and cracked jokes. His humor dry, sometimes dark. You found yourself laughing, actually laughing with him. He was sweet, funny, charismatic even, and his smile made you melt.
It was tricky, knowing your nature, you could be just as entranced with the humans as they were with you, however dangerous it could be. But you could feel your longing within you like a being of its own, inhabiting your mind, body, and spirit. Begging for the day to see the light. That day so far, has not come. With age, that desire only grew, causing friction within the confines of your own mind.
The bell rang, and you gathered your things when his voice spoke out. "Hey, do you wanna come over after school today and study? Maybe work on some of this stuff? I could uh, really use the help." You examined his expression, feeling uneasy and not fully trusting his intentions. Yet, you found yourself nodding in agreement despite your ever-present worries and fears. His face remained as it did when he asked you, eye brows raised, lips parted, awaiting your response as he shifted his books in his hands and straightened his backpack straps. "Yeah? Ok, yeah." He said in surprise. "I live just a block over from you. Meet me after school?" A block from me? How did he know, did he follow you yesterday? You shrug your shoulders, pushing your thoughts back. "Sure sure," you mumble. As if sensing your trepedation, he blurted out, "My dads the sheriff. So, you dont have to worry or anything... if you are... worried," he fidgeted, turning his head rubbing his face in frustration as if he embarrassed himself. He avoided eye contact with you, and stammered when he spoke to you, perhaps your presence did make him uncomfortable, but it was in a way you haven't seen before, not in any type of hypnotized state. It intrigued you. You found yourself excited at the thought of a friend possibly, maybe more?
It felt intimate. He was inviting you to his home. Just you two. Was this a date? You'd never been on one, never being asked sincerely, so you always declined. It's easier to avoid disappointment, right? Especially if it could have led to your potential assault or possible death. There were creatures out there that wanted to kill people like you. Something you still didn't fully understand but remained aware of that potential danger. No one has ever wanted to spend time with you other than to possess you. You had to see what it was like and took full advantage of that opportunity. You thought, why not? His dads the sheriff, what's the worst that could happen? You didn't finish that thought because you already knew but hoped for a better outcome this time.
Stiles had handed you a folded note with four numbers scrawled across the inside. His home address he lamented. "Look for the blue jeep," he said as you left for home. You wanted to drop some things off before heading over. Make yourself presentable. You never wanted nor ever needed to dress any other way than comfortable. You weren't even sure you had anything that could be considered cute or attention getting. You changed, opting for a pair of black joggers, white sneakers, and a white tank top. The only thing you had that was somwhat revealing, but only in the way it fit your shape and peeked out with a bit of cleavage. Everything you owned was to avert the male gaze. You felt bold wearing it. You felt actually comfortable, not like the loose fabric you normally hung from your slender frame. You threw on a black pullover hoodie to cover yourself. Force of habit, plus, there were still people outside your home you would rather avoid. Knowing that loose clothing was a ruse, truly no one even needed to look at you to be pulled into your gravity. If you were close to them, they felt they needed you.
You walked over, breathing shallowly, not knowing what to expect, but a feeling of anticipation laced each step you took until you reached his front door. You reach a hand up while your mind second guessed whether you should be doing this or not. Your knuckles rapped on the wood four times. You took a step back to wait. You could hear Stiles somewhere inside yelling he was coming, followed by running steps that got louder as they crashed towards the door. The door swung open inwards, Stiles stood with his arm extended, out of breath but smiling.
You timidly raise a hand in a shy wave, feeling like you interruped him in the middle of something. "H-Hey. Come in." He led you through a hall to a room in the back on the left. His room presumably. He stepped in first clutching papers and books off the surface of his discheveled looking bed. "Sorry, I was trying to clean this all up before you got here," he said while trying to collect all the items at once. "That's ok," you respond. "Wow, you really do study a lot, huh?" You said. There were school books on his bed as to be expected, but there were a few interesting choice books you observed him quickly put away out of your view on a shelf behind him. "Weird World Compendium, Cryptozoology 101, and one titled Lycanthropy." Surely he didn't get those from the library. Perhaps it was some sort of project. You tried not to think too hard about it after what your guardian had said. This place was supernaturally charged. Maybe some humans were interested in that sort of thing. Although in your experience it's always been a topic that's more hush-hush.
You sat cross-legged in the spot on his bed he had cleared off and smoothed over for you. Settling in and opening your backpack to bring out your notebook. He sat next to you on the opposite side of the bed, legs outstretched as he placed a book and notes in his lap, searching through the papers. While he gathered his notes, you took the time to take off your hoodie, lifting your arms to pull it up off over your head. It pulled your hair tie out in the process. When you pulled it off fully, your hair covered your face, falling in long locks about your face. You brushed them away, smoothing your hair back as it fell to the sides of your face. You looked for your scrunchie in your hoodie where it must've gotten tangled. When you found it and went to put it on your wrist, you looked up to see him staring at you. A perplexed look tinged with want. It's as if he was looking at a beautiful deadly creature. Scared, yet highly intrigued. You watched his eyes scan your body until he met your eyes, and immediately, he turned beet red. You could feel your face flush as well. Both of you averted your gaze. Too self concious to address the tension in the air. So you both continued on studying like nothing happened. Engaging in light conversation and school talk. The actual studying only lasted a half hour.
You two went over your notes together quickly and then started talking. A few things that caught your attention that he said were about the woods, something about the history of the woods in Beacon Hills, super vague. Although he was cryptic as well, like there was some truth he was holding back. He asked about your move and why you chose Beacon Hills, "the weirdest place you could have chosen," he'd said. You told him your family who you stayed with moved a lot for work. A lie. You had no family, just your guardian, that and you would never truly divulge the reasoning. You'd sound insane to any somwhat sane person. Stiles seemed to be a sane person, a very hyperactive one, and a total smartass, but sane nonetheless. You enjoyed his energy, really, so you didn't want him not to like you. A thought you've never thought before. Perhaps he knew more than he let on. After all, he did talk about helping his friends find the people that went missing. You knew he wouldn't even know where to start unless he had some sort of supernatural inkling. Perhaps that's why he was able to still remain himself around you.
You stood to stretch, arching your back and sliding your hands down your backside as you did, trying to crack out a few knots from sitting on the bed. There was a large empty whiteboard in his room that was pretty hard to miss. Curiosity stole your attention away from him as you wanted to see what was on the other side, if anything. As he went to put his notes away, he looked up to see you flip the board. It was covered in intertwined strings, pictures, and what looked like newspaper clippings. It looked like complete chaos. You stepped closer to observe the images only to see a picture of you, images of the fairy rings, and old articles from schools you attended in the past. "Teen incites crowd violence at UNI leading to fire," one had read. Another stated, "At risk youth terrorizes fremont school district and local community" and "Local youth suspected in missing peoples case and 10 year cold case involving family disappearance." mentally, you remark at the headlines. They were all about you, your past, and they were not only wrong and super sensationalized, but outright mean you thought.
A look of worry and lost hope immediately plagued your features. Survival instinct kicked back in, and you were immediately aware of the bad decision you had made. Your heart began to race, and your palms got clamy. You could feel a low humm of electricity burning from within. He knew it was you, how easily you fell for it this time. Shame and fear filled the pit in your stomach. Stiles saw you remarking at his 'crime board'. He immediately went to try and grab the articles off to cover the evidence he had infact been following you. Researching your past. Why? Did he want you dead like some? The thoughts raced through your mind in a blur of negativity. Is that why he was asking the questions he was? Realistically, and even more painful, was the realization that he knew it was you or had something to do with you. The reason people were missing people he knew.
"No, no no no. It's not what it looks like. Just. Just let me explain," he insisted. You had turned to him with the article stating, "Menace linked to missing people," with tears welling in the corners of your eyes. It felt like betrayal. These feelings you were so used to and built yourself up to avoid, here again. Because you dropped your guard! "What are you?" You asked. "How are you like this? Are you a satyr? A changeling?!" You all but screamed at him. Fear, clear, and present in your voice. You were scared and hurt. He stood frozen looking at you, mouth agape. He tried to speak, unable to find the words. How could he be shocked at your reaction, you thought. The evidence was here, all of it, his research on you and the "portals" he talked to his friend about. It was embarrassing, demoralizing, and hurtful. "Uh-im..im a human being," he spoke in a broken sentence, unsure how to respond to that question. Human? How? How could he be, knowing what he knows? You look up from the article in your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks. Presented with everything you had tried so hard to get away from. "Why did you invite me here?" You spoke through breathy gasps. "I thought for once someone actually liked me. So I'll just go," you said in a hushed breath. You dropped the paper and turned for the door when you felt his hand on your arm.
"Dont go." He said defeatedly. You turned to face him, to confront him. "I-I do like you. Okay? I do. I just didn't know how to say it, to tell you, i'm scared." He said, stepping closer to you and grabbing your shaking hands. "Please let me explain." You looked up at him examiningly. Taking stock of his features, observing his body language. He appeared to be truly apologetic, especially when confronted with your tears. You quickly wiped them away, no weakness to be seen. "You do?" You said, seeking his validation and reassurance. "Why?" You asked. The question perplexed him. Why wouldn't anyone like you? They all did, well, only in that possessive way.
"Why?" He repeated, chuckling nervously as you tried holding his gaze. He would look down, then back seeing you were still looking into him."Yeah, why? You see all this about my past. People are disappearing around me, right? Why would you like me at all?" You questioned him. "Look, I can tell you put on a hard front, but when we were working together, I could see that wasn't who you were. I was cautious sure, a lot of crazy stuff happens here, you have no idea. I'm just trying to help my friends, I thought what I was doing was right, and I thought you could help." he said candidly. He spoke calmly and directly, unlike his usual cadence, taking your feelings seriously. "So what did you find out?" You ask him, gesturing to the board. Tone still firm yet softening. "That you're not what people say you are. That you are not those articles. And yes, youre fucking gorgeous". He gestured at you. "but youre kind, and... good."
His words poured over your fresh wounds like a pain killer. Numbing the hurt, a lovely feeling. You looked him in the eyes, a gaze he returned purposefully. "Im sorry i hurt you, it wasn't my intention, and I will take all the time you need to explain everything, you desrve that." The words he spoke were foreign to you. An apology. Bare minimum, but something you've never received in all your past traumas. Not once did anyone take the time to validate and quell your negative feelings they caused.
Without thought and acting upon pure emotion, you leaned in and kissed him. Pressing your lips hard to his. You pull away just as quickly. Too forward, too much you think to yourself. What have you done? You look to observe his face his reaction. His eyes still closed, and his lips still perched. After a moment, realizing you pulled away, he opens his eyes and looks down at you. Letting go of your hands he steps forward to you once more, leaving no space between you. He grabs your face a palm on either cheek and pulls you in for another kiss. Returning your affections heartily.
He pushes himself against you, holding your face in his hands as your lips continue to collide, tongues roaming and exploring, teeth clashing as he breathes heavily through his nose. A soft moan escapes your mouth as you bring your arms around his neck. He then slid his hands behind your back, pulling you closer to him. You reveled in his embrace. It's so warm and inviting. There was no pressure, no obsession. It felt natural, a feeling never shared with a human before, or any being for that matter you thought.
Something came over you, or rather melted away. The fear, the worry about being around him, all but vanished in his embrace. It didn't feel forced or like possession. Just pure chemistry. Your kiss led you to the edge of his bed where your knees buckled and you fell backward. You grabbed Stiles' hand, pulling him on top of you. He was clearly nervous but happy and more than willing to participate, his breathing was fast, hands shakey as he placed one on the side of your shoulder and grabbed under your thigh with the other raising your leg up.
He spread your legs apart with his knees, scooting closer. He continued kissing you, circling your toungue with his. The electricity in your core buzzed furiously beckoning to you in unintelligible whispers. Everything spun out of control so quickly. His hands roaming your body, lightly caressing your abdomen, sliding his fingers underneath your top. His fingers left traces of vibration on your skin. You wondered if he could feel it, too. The exhiliration filled your senses, taking over rational thought as your hands roamed his body. You could feel the stillness in his pants as your soft movements brushed up against him, eliciting small gasps of breath through his teeth.
He stopped suddenly, pulling away. You looked on pleadingly, searching his face for a reason. His face was soft as he expressed concern. "Only if you want this," he said. You nodded almost as he spoke, sitting up on your elbows and meeting him with another kiss. "I do, please," you said with eybrows raised and puffy glistening lips. He relaxed and leaned into the kiss once more, pushing himself against you.
You put both hands under his sweater. He quickly shrugged it off his head, pulling it from his shoulders. You lifted up your tank top, sliding it off as he did, then unhooked your bra, dropping it to the floor next to the bed carlessly. When he looked back down, a smile curled on his lips before biting them and returning to kissing you. He took a moment to bury his face between your breasts, inhaling you deeply before using his tongue to lap at your hardened nipples, the cold air on your wet skin making you shiver under his touch.
The heat rising in your body matched the warmth in your psyche. A true gentleman he had been. Asking for consent was unheard of for you. Most just took what they wanted, turning you off of the whole idea of intimacy. But Stiles was different. You felt yourself softening under his touch. His words soothed the darkest corners of your abused mind.
His body was ridgid and warm against your torso. You could feel goosebumps rise across the flesh you touched upon his back. He quivered with every embrace. Your hand slipped down to his waistband, where his belt sat. You slip a finger just inside, trailing it against his skin left to right as you gently tug. He meets your gaze, and you smile up at him innocently. He quickly stood once more, chucking off his shoes carlessly. One landed on his desk, and the other hit the wall. You chuckled lightly. He was so eager. As he gathered his bearings to pull his pants down, you grabbed hold. "Let me," you say while grabbing his hands. He nodded in agreement, running his fingers through your hair as he curiously watched.
You undo his belt and pull the strap through each belt loop until it hits the floor, followed by the button, then the zipper until you pulled down his pants to reveal him. His boxers stood tented. He sucked in a breath as you slid the pants over his length. You could see partially through the hole in the boxers that his hardness exaggerated, almost poking out. You removed them carefully, sliding them down to the floor. His length stood at full attention and laid against his abdomen, a burning red. You run a hand over his chest, moving down and tracing the lines on his hips that led to his cock. He twitched under your touch, so did his cock. Perhaps it tickled.
You looked up at him as you claimed him, holding him firm within your grasp. His hands moved to the back of your head where he gathered your hair into one hand. You watched his reaction as you ran your tongue across the tip, collecting the precum that had coated him. His jaw dropped as he gasped at your intimate touch, eyes watching in awe as you took him into your mouth. You circled your tongue around his head before pushing further down, forcing him past your lips. Coming up and then forcing him down again, stretching your throat and causing you to gag. Tears streamed down your face as he began pushing you further onto him, wrapping your hair in his fist as his other hand held lightly under your chin, caressing your throat. He met every movement of yours with his own thrust. Drool began seeping from the corners of your mouth before dripping down your chin and onto your chest.
He pulled your head back, his hand still intertwined in your hair. His other hand grabbed your chin, using his thumb to wipe the drool from your face. He then slid his finger into your mouth, rubbing your tongue and pushing on it before moving his other finger inside, shoving them in and out of your mouth as you helplessly looked up at him. You heard a low hum form in his chest before he placed both hands on your shoulders, pushing you down gently. You follow his lead, sliding back just enough to give him space to put his knees between you.
Stiles scooted between your legs, using his hands to grip the seam of your panties and pull them downward and off of your legs. Slipping them so softly off of your body, placing them on the bed beside him. He then grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him, his length stood at your entrance. Pushing against your slit, covering him in your slick as he leaned in for a kiss.
You prop yourself onto your elbows, meeting his lips with your own. His length throbbing against you, you found yourself slowly grinding against it. Wanting him more than you've ever wanted anyone in your life ever. The passion and intesnse pressure burning you from within. You felt a deep pressure well within you, an unstoppable urge to fulfill.
You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling him nearly penetrate you. A soft moan escaped your lips as he reached down and guided himself to you. Slowly forcing his way in. As he pushed himself inside, your walls began to grip him. "Fuuuck," he whispered. He had to push harder as you tried to accept him. You cry out, and he looks at you with concern. "No, it's ok, feels sgood" You manage to speak in broken words as he begins to slowly thrust himself in and out of you. His eyes watched you almost with fascination as you squirmed beneath him, meeting every thrust of his with your own bucking motion. Wanting more. You felt the room get lighter. Everything took on a hazy ethereal glow with flickers of light that looked like stars as he pounded into you, increasing his speed and strength with every thrust.
Each push, sending you closer and closer over the edge. You looked him in his eyes as he shoved himself heartily into you. Pawing at your breasts, squeezing the flesh through his balmy hands. Small breathy moans would escape his trembling lips. You pulled his face close to yours, gazing into eachothers eyes as he filled you. Marveling at his expressions, how his face tightened with every thrust, how he gritted his teeth and persed his lips. He kissed your chest and neck, causing you to moan loudly from sheer lust.
He had reached for your panties that lay beside him, crumpling them up and stuffing them in your mouth. "My dad will be home soon, we have to be quiet," you nodded, letting him know you understood. You were being very loud after all. No fault of your own, just the sounds he elicited out of you from the pleasure he provided. He began pounding furiously, you cried out in muffled moans behind your soaked panties. Looking up at him as he continued with eyes of want.
Your body felt light, like you were floating. His eyes never left your face as he grunted softly with each push. Your skin tingled and buzzed with vibration, nothing you have ever felt before. He watched as your eyes beamed light from within, a sparkling like a galaxy within your pupils. A buzzing concentrating in your back and shoulders. You could feel it slowly lift from your skin as what looked like stars erupted from your shoulders glittering behind you into the bed sheets and filling room, hovering in ace.
You pull the panties from your mouth, tossing them somewhere within the room. Waves of pleasure began crashing over you as you approached your climax. Stiles remained streadfast, unabated by your sudden supernatural display. "S-Stiles, im gonna cu," you gasped. "Please, dont st-stop," you pleaded, looking deeply into his eyes. His face was a look of pure concentration, grimacing with every thrust that filled you. Your body began to shudder beneath him. His cock trembling and twitching within you as ropes of his essence spasmed within you with every forceful push. Your orgasm bringing him to his own. You wrapped your legs tighter around him as your body convulsed, your walls contracting around his pulsating length. You could feel his warmth fill you as his eyes rolled back and a low deep moan coalesced from his throat. Stiles' room, for a brief moment when your orgasm was most intense, had been glowing, all you could see was him, behind him was almost otherworldly.
The room had filled with the stars that emenated from your shoulder blades. Flickering and twinkling out one by one. They shined like small spheres of light, emitting streams of light out in every direction before fading into what looked like the flicker of a flame and dissapating completely. You had never seen this before, a shock to you, and you were sure it'd shock Stiles, too, if he wasn't already preoccupied. You're sure you'd have to explain later... if you could find the words.
Stiles lay on top of you, exhausted and breathing heavy. You lightly caressed his head he again shivered under your touch and smiled, eyes closed against your chest. You watched as his head rose and fell with each breath you took. "Y/N," he sofly spoke, a large grin painting his face. "You're so beautiful," he said euphorically. "Best sex ever," he said as he slipped off you and lay beside you. You giggled at his rhetoric. "So, I feel like there's something you want to tell me." He spoke once more. How could you even begin to explain what happened when you weren't quite sure yourself. You've never had this happen, but you've also never had consensual sex that you initiated. There was still so much to learn about yourself and what you were.
"Well, if you've got time, I guess I'll just start from the beginning. Starting with me being a Nymph," you said hesitantly. His eyes widened slightly, staring at you in disbelief, "A nymph! Like a fairy deity... Nymph?!" He stammered. "Why didn't I think of that?" he said jokingly to himself. "Uh yeah, I guess, I really dont know much about it, though. I didn't even know I could do... that" you said. "But I'll tell you everything I know. I'll help you find them if I can. I promise," you declared. He looked on, eyes half lidded. "I had sex with a god," he said, staring at you, ignoring everything else you said. You looked into his eyes as he searched yours, moving a strand of hair away from your face. "You'll have to tell me more when the blood rushes back from other areas," he said playfully. "Ok, one more thing though, they're called windows, not portals." You said tongue in cheek. "Really? What's the problem with portals?" he jested, kissing your forhead.
Arthur is baby girl fr!! There's definitely more Arthur Fleck content coming soon! Let me know what you all want to see. I can continue the Subway Obsessions series, or i can start some one-offs. Which POV do yall prefer?
Also, thanks for reading! I value each and every persons input and praise so much! I am so thankful to share my art with you all and appreciate the support so much!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! Keep reblogging and sending notes! Nothing goes unnoticed here!
Summary: Chapter 3 of the Subway Obsessions series from Arthurs POV. Arthur has had a rough couple of days since meeting Y/N. But she always has a way of making his day. This story follows their first date and a late ride on the subway home. Crowds aren't Y/Ns thing, Arthur does all he can to quell her unease.Â
Warnings:Â SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, breeding, public exhibitionism, begging, groping, mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of violence, mentions of murder, swearing, obsession, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff (super-duper fluffy)Â
A/N: And I'm baaaack!! With another installment of the subway series. Yall already know I love Arthur's perspective. Seeing how he loves us, diving into his psyche and knowing how he feels, what goes through his mind during those tender moments⌠ugh, I can't take it!! Eeeeee!! As always, I hope you all enjoy! Comments, criticisms, ideas, want to say hey? Reach out I welcome all!! But please be nice. Enjoy enjoyyyy!!! Cheers!Â
Word Count:Â 8.2k
SERIES: Subway Obsessions Â
CHAPTER 3: EasyÂ
Arthur was awoken suddenly, his mind jolting him awake. No alarm? He sleepily looks over from the sofa at the clock. Nope, I'm just up early. His mind has been waking him up every day before his alarm. It's as if his bodies circadian rhythm changed for her. Every night he went to sleep, it was hard knowing he had to wait until morning to call Y/N, he couldnât wait. But he did, he waited, wanting to respect her time but chomping at the bit just the same. A good morning text every morning. A call before bed every night. He had spent every free second of his days as of late talking to her or texting her. Remarking at the pictures she would send him. Nothing too dirty or anything, he had just asked her for one for his contact photo. She had sent several and he saved every single one. He would look at them periodically throughout the day, a gentle reminder that things aren't as bad as they are sometimes in his mind. He found himself trying to divide his time between work, home, his mental health and her. A task not so easily done when your fully distracted he thought. Often reminiscing about the moments on the train throughout the day, he caught himself blushing. Always thinking about her, her voice, her smile, her smell. It's as if he could imagine her into being before him with his experiences alone. He would reach out, hoping for her to be there, but he settled for talking to her. He loved hearing her voice. After a long day of misery and being unable to breath under the cities fist of oppression, she was the breath of fresh air he so badly needed. Allowing him to shed the tatters of his ruined day and lay them at her feet. Â
He could still feel her embrace from that night. He never wanted it to end. She held him so preciously. The way she cuddled him, holding him to her, embracing him, lightly caressing his skin, twirling his locks into little curls around her finger as she smiled upon him. He was spent that evening, putting all of his energy into her hoping to please her. He had a headache from pure exertion afterwards, but it was only slight, and nothing compared to the feeling she gave him. It was as if being with her, being inside her, made the world brighter, more inviting, more loving. Everything around her took on an ethereal glow and he thought, being with her made even the dingiest and darkest subway train car a warm and welcome environment. Her presence literally warping his world. This was not the case when she was gone. He held onto those moments dearly when his day began to darken. These past couple of days took him to a dark space. Dealing with state issues, no funding for his medications and having to navigate that. He was able to pay out of pocket for his generics at least. Y/N was his rock in this situation. Just being there to listen and understand. There wasnât much she could do in those regards, but just hearing her voice after a rocky day made his body relax. He could rest easy when he knew she was on the other end of that phone. Some days he felt maybe he was being difficult dealing with his inner turmoil. If he ever was, she never made it seem that way. Always listening and giving compassion. She didnât pretend to fully understand, yet she was kind enough to learn and to validate his experiences and emotions. Sometimes it still took him getting used to her kindness, it was so out of place, so foreign to him. But knowing her story and learning more about her every day, he knew she was the one. Really, he had known the first day he saw her weeks ago on the subway. He never told her he had watched her from a far, admiring her almost daily. He was elated he no longer had to follow her secretly. How lucky for him the way things went that evening a few nights ago. It was nothing he could have ever hoped for but everything he had wished and dreamed about⌠but even better!Â
That night after getting dressed, he rode the train back with her to see her home safely. Not wanting to leave her, not yet not ever. He often thought about how she fell asleep that night. She fell from his shoulder to his chest as he cradled her, feeling the breath from her nose on his arms. Such tiny little breaths. He was so filled with love in that moment. He watched as she slept upon him, drifting off so calmly in his presence. She must really feel safe with me, he thought. He brushed the hair that would blow onto her face and tickle her. Hed brush a lock aside and she would crinkle her nose. He kissed her head, her hair, gingerly peppering kisses on her as she lay. Her calm sleeping face, so angelic, so serene and peaceful. In those moments she embodied everything he wished he could be, and he provided that space for her to flourish. As the train swayed its way through tunnel after endless tunnel, he watched her, smiling and lamenting of the nights earlier festivities. How open she was with him, the things she did to him. But he couldnât help but feel pangs in his heart anytime he once again came to the realization she was here with him, fully, and willingly. As hesitant and doubtful as he may be, he felt confirmation with her sleeping on him. Such a simple act, so human, so⌠vulnerable. He thought⌠I love her.Â
He held her, watching her chest rise and fall as she slept so comfortably on him. Little, barely audible sleep sounds escaping her lips. Those sounds drove him crazy, like a cuteness aggression taking over, he wanted to squeeze and kiss her. It's just how she made him feel, giddy, like a schoolboy with a crush. The feelings of trepidation and apprehension overshadowed by pure adoration and idolization. She looked so innocent, so sweet. He woke her up with a kiss to her forehead once the train arrived at platform 19. âY/N, weâre hereâ Â
He offered to walk her home but didnât want the night to end. She opted to wander the streets with him for a while where they shared conversation. How pleasant it had been. They found a small park nestled amongst some dilapidated apartments. She excitedly grabbed his hand and dragged him to the swings where they spent much of the night. They swung and talked, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. His mind often drifted back to the moments on the subway. It was hard not to look at her and not see her naked now, not to see his face squeezed between her legs. She made mention of their actions a few times. Each time making his face blush with heat that spanned his body. She lamented how good he had made her feel, that she couldnât believe they did that in such a place. She seemed excited, turned on even. He would chuckle bashfully in agreement. He didnât know what took over him in those moments, but he was so thankful for those impulses. That instinctual vigor that overtook him. A reaction she caused deep within him without either of them having control over it. It was just, meant to happen, meant to be.Â
She had stepped off her swing and walked to him as he slowed. He reached a handout to catch her face as she leaned in for a kiss. Always more than happy to oblige. Arthur loved kissing her, he could do this every moment of everyday. It perhaps felt even more intimate than the act of intercourse itself. The amount of oxytocin and serotonin that exploded within his brain when she would kiss him and pull him close was almost overwhelming. He felt a sense of belonging, of attachment and an instant bond. Bodies touching but souls intertwined. Their connection felt deep, deeper than a one-night stand, deeper than a chance meeting. This felt like fate. It felt like purpose was being fulfilled in some way. They had stood there kissing for what seemed like hours as the night crept on, time ticking away into the future without notice. Their lips, mashing against one another with heated breaths against the night air. Being with her was easy. So easy. There were no barriers, no hindrances, no complications. Just the love that poured freely from her unto him. Â
After some time, they eventually parted ways. He walked her right to her door a couple blocks from the park on a silent street. It was a small unassuming house with a little patch of flowers in front of the porch, yellow lilies he noted. They stood on the stairs, time ticking by even slower now, neither wanting to part. Arthur worked up the courage in-between heated passionate kisses where they heavily groped one another to ask for her number. He wanted to keep in contact, hoping they could continue building this connection he felt between them. It was very obviously there, and something was brewing. He watched as she all but threw her things down to search for her phone. He reached out to help her hold her things. She fumbled her phone out of her bag, unlocking it and handing it to him. He put his number in her contacts under Arthur with a little heart. He smiled as he handed it back. She happily took his phone into her hands and put her number in as well. Y/N with a heart. He was truly smitten. Â
She threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a passionate kiss. Holding him close as her feet nearly left the ground. He held her to him, caressing her back. She had asked him to contact her as soon as he got home to make sure he was safe. So sweet he thought, so caring and kind. He wanted to ravage her once more right then and there. But his feet stepped off the porch, step by step, stair by stair as their distance increased. She held onto his hands as long as she could, only letting go finger by finger as they parted ways. âBe safe, Arthur! Let me know when youâve gotten home.â She beckoned to him. âIâll text you when I get home and call you in the morning,â he turned back to say with a wave and a smile. He also wanted to see if she was still there watching him leave. She had a mournful look on her face covered up with a look of hope. He could sense her longing, her wish for him to stay. He wished he could. If she ever invited him in, he thought, I'll stay. If it is her wish. The walk home was cold and uneventful. He texted her as soon as he got home, assuring her he had arrived safely.Â
He fell into the couch in a huff. What a night. The thoughts still circling in his mind, unable to pick one out to focus on. He could only focus on the feeling. How she made him feel. Every caress, every touch, every emotion that surfaced within him that he had never known or felt before. She was like a vacation, warm like a sunny beach day. He used the thought of her to escape when he needed. Closing his eyes and smiling from within. He cracked open his pack of cigs and lit one up, letting it burn, only reaching for a hit once or twice. Totally lost in his thoughts, reliving the moments with her on the train. Seeing her face look up at him. It felt like a dream, but he could still taste her on his lips. That familiar feeling rose within him once more, the want, the desire. He dragged himself to the shower, needing to wash his face but not wanting to wash her off of him. A conundrum. He pictured her face as the water poured over him from above. Dripping off each lock onto his chest as he tugged hastily at his cock.Â
Nightly, he chased the high that she provided. Reaching into his pants and thinking of her on the trains bench seat, spread open for him. It wasnât the same, it only gave him slight relief but left him with a burning deep within. He wanted her there, to be with him. Living off that night's memories, although it helped, he so badly wanted to make more with her. Nights were the loneliest for him. Especially after hanging up with her, the feeling of emptiness would once again envelope him, slowly seeping in. A sense of longing filled his core. It made his stomach do flips and his head fuzzy with desire. Â
Waking up was the best part of his day. Anytime he got to speak to her was a highlight honestly. He looked forward to it every day, giving him something to live for, something nice in his life. Daily, she watered him, helping him grow and blossom. He cherished those moments, embraced them fully. She was like a drug to him, worse than him needing his Nic fix, she was more addictive, more satisfying than anything a pack of marbs could provide. She made his senses go haywire; his nerves frayed at the thought of just waiting for her to respond to his messages. She was there to listen when he had a bad day, offering support and a hearty humor that he appreciated. The way she reacted when he had told her he was jumped warmed his heart almost alleviating that pain. The anger he could hear in her voice, an air of protection he so badly wished heâd had growing up. How different might his life be if he had someone like her. Â
Of course, she was understanding but there were still things he didnât tell her, things he thought may scare her. His mind at war within itself. Knowing he can trust her but not trusting his own thoughts that told him he couldn't. He thought it best to wait and see. No one had known it was him anyway. Shit, he was protecting himself, something she had advised herself. Itâs why he accepted the gun, its why those three guys who attacked him would no longer be able to attack anyone ever again. Especially her! He would kill for her without question. The news reported on the murders, but the cities incompetence played a huge part in his innocence. Reporting it was a âkiller clownâ with every protestor donning clown masks it made the GCPDâs job impossible. Many people, other than him were growing ever tired of the climate that has been Gotham as of late. He probably wasnât the only one taking matters into his own hands. The uncomfortableness of seeing the fliers posted around made him burst out in uncontrollable laughter that burned his throat as he tried to choke it down. Truly it was a traumatizing incident, one he wished never happened. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he had no choice, his thoughts ceased and something else took over. He wondered who that was, what it was. Was it simply survival instinct? He figured that must be it. They had beat him mercilessly and for no wrongdoing of his own. All he could surmise is that they were inebriated and taunting him due to his clothing and Carnival persona. Once he begun laughing, they attacked. Arthur never understood why people would be mean to someone whose job was to bring joy. Perhaps they were unhappy with themselves. Still no fault of his own and still, he took the brunt of their trauma, causing his own. A vicious cycle. A cycle that needed to end! He tried to push those moments out of his mind. There were happy memories on that subway, and thatâs what he intended on focusing on. Her, she was what mattered to him. She was a thought that could practically erase that pain, doubt, and fear he so often felt. He thought, with her, I would never be alone again. Before her, smiling was difficult. She made it easy.Â
He had spoken to her first thing this morning. Every time he called, she would answer with a boisterous âArthur!â He looked forward to it every time he called. The excitement he could hear in her voice when she picked up the phone made him melt. He knew it was her day off and he had no gigs scheduled so he boasted about taking her out on a âreal dateâ. He had said. She gleefully agreed. He had been so nervous to ask, planning what he would say, how he would say it, rehearsing all morning. It was no matter, she all but screamed yes as the words left his lips. Â
After ending their conversation, he spent the day preparing. Doing laundry so he had clean clothes, showering, brushing his teeth. He wanted so badly to really impress her. As the evening drew on, he stopped at the corner mart to pick up some flowers. Yellow lilies, he remembered her having them at her home having taken mental note of that. He searched the florists but couldn't find any. Defeated he walked out sulking. Before too long he had turned a corner, a flash of bright yellow flowers with green stems growing from the side of a 24hr liquor store. He dropped to his knees and picked 12, ripping the stems from the ground, careful to preserve the petals. He painstakingly prepared them. Pulling off the roots and leaves. Stealing a ribbon off of one of the figures that lined the fireplace of him and his mother's apartment. He tired the white ribbon in a bow around the middle, holding the bouquet together. It wasnât perfect but looked nice enough. The bow was slightly askew, he hoped she wouldnât notice. He wore a fresh pressed white dress shirt and slacks. As he walked out the door, he grabbed his yellow corduroy jacket and locked the door behind him, eager to pick up Y/N and take her to his favorite diner.Â
Upon arriving at her home, he shakily reached for the door to knock, flowers grasped in his sweaty palm. As excited as he was, the formality of it all made him slightly uncomfortable. He steadied himself and knocked 4 times. As he waited there he stealthily turned, holding his hand in front of his face breathing out of his mouth to check his breath. The nerves tearing at him internally. He second guessed himself, thinking maybe this was too much, it's not like how theyâve been before. But even in those instances he held himself skeptical. Still truly unwilling to accept that someone may actually like him genuinely. She did agree after all. As his inner thoughts battled within the confines of his mind the door opened. A big smile lit up her face and eyes sparkled behind wavy strands of hair that danced across her cheeks. He looked her up and down very quickly. A tight black button up sweater. Her skin peeked though in areas where their fabric stretched tighter over her body. A black skirt and bright white tennis shoes. He felt as if his jaw physically dropped, she was incredible. Every time he saw her. It was nothing like what he could remember or imagine. He could feel the tension lift from his body as his mind finally slowed and the negative thoughts got quieter. He reached out the hand holding the flowers to which she excitedly accepted. Her hands went up as she yelled his name, reaching out and wrapping him in a warm hug. He couldnât think of the last time anyone was ever excited to see him. He thought, heâd give her all the flowers in the world everyday if he could. Â
Throughout the night he tried his best to be a gentleman, remembering the points he had taken from some of his favorite romantic films. Some things he had taken an interest in since meeting Y/N. He would write down romantic quips and gestures in his journal any chance he got. Life was quickly consumed by her, every thought every action, was influenced by the thought of her. They had approached the bright red neon sign that read âPaulinesâ. Arthur gestured, ladies first as he opened the door for Y/N. Â
The restaurant was Arthur's favorite, it was reminiscent of good times, times that weren't always so tough. He often found respite here on his lunch break, writing in his journal at the corner table. Today he opted for a both seat that seemed more intimate. The night continued on under the glow of white LEDs above. After ordering food and settling in Y/N had spoken up on his behalf when his food came back wrong. Something he wouldnât have done himself; he would just as well leave it alone to avoid confrontation. The servers here weren't always the best he thought, but they weren't outwardly mean. He surmised that perhaps thatâs why he liked it here. He could drink cup after cup of coffee, and they left him alone. Plus, the food was decent, even if it was wrong sometimes. She had noticed his distaste at seeing he was in fact given a tomato on his burger when he asked for none. Arthur watched in awe as she was able to be both affirmative yet kind in addressing the issue with the waiter. No confrontation, just straight across communication. They didnât yell at her or scowl. The fact that she stood up for him, another unfamiliar feeling. He was filled with delight, feeling cared for in that moment. Amazing he thought, those particular situations were always a fear of his as it so often led to his outbursts of compulsory laughter and the negative observations of onlookers. Avoidance was best. But she did it like it was easy. He could feel the confidence that exuded from her being. Â
Their conversations went as they always did at this point. Just picking up from where they left off prior. Asking about each other's day. He told her again how sorry he was for making her miss work, apologizing profusely. He never wanted to meddle in a person's serious personal business, like work. Especially knowing the work, she does. She reassured him it was completely ok. She talked about work and about how she loved what she does and the people she helps but that the staff were like everyone else in this city. Mean spirited and truly uncaring. He joked that she should quit, not fully thinking about what he was saying before it came out. It was meant to be a joke. She laughed and agreed, perhaps she should. She looked him in the eyes saying she was thankful for every moment between them that night, she wouldnât have had it any other way. That she couldnât wait to have more like it. They both blushed knowing the heat of those moments as she brushed her leg over his under the table with a wink. The night started getting late. Neither could finish their food but split a piece of pie. Arthur hoped she enjoyed herself, he certainly enjoyed her company. He valued her presence with him. She added to his life, made him feel things he's never felt before, unexplored emotions and uncharted physical territory. He wanted to learn more, delve deeper. Â
As they stepped outside, Arthur having opened the door for her. The first fall of rain touched their heads. Y/N looked up almost embracing the feeling. He watched as her eyes closed and a grin spread across her face as drops of water began to settle on her forehead and cheeks before sliding off her skin and onto her top. The simple beaty of the rain washing over her was tantric. Arthur slid his hand around her back, pulling her in and kissing her. She kissed him back immediately. Embracing him in the downpour as a hazy red glow from the neon sign of the diner lit up the wet sidewalk. Somehow, it felt magical, surreal. Arthur stepped forward, holding her back with one hand, and dipping her before pulling her back up for another kiss and spinning her around. Her face beamed, illuminated by the glow of the diners' lights. His heart never felt so full, so alive. Â
She stole kiss after kiss on the way to the subway's platform. The touch of her lips on his, how she pecked his cheek or arms, wherever she could reach, left him reeling. He felt fuzzy, like his skin was vibrating, on a high from such a good outing. It really could not have gone better he thought. Where would the night take them? As he waited for the train with Y/N, he noticed a shift in her demeanor. She clung closer to him, holding his hand tightly. There was a crowd growing, passersby after a protest, perhaps they were going towards Gotham City Hall? Whatever the matter, he could sense her unease. She had brought up previously the murders that took place. Arthur still felt shame and guilt he hadn't even thought how it would affect her. He was at odds because this was also an act of self-defense. He feared her finding out it was him, that she may see him differently, not trust him or feel safe anymore. He decided it was something he would deal with on his own for now, so he avoided the subject entirely. It made him too uncomfortable to even think about. But he almost relished in the chaos. Not in a destructive way but in a way that validated him, validated his reasons for doing what he did. He wasnât the only one in this city that felt this way. Not anymore. Â
However this made him feel, it still affected him negatively in the way it affected her. She clearly didnât like the crowds and was now apprehensive about subways even though she had nothing to worry about. It was him, and he would never hurt her. Still, he felt responsible and so, did his best to protect her peace. She laid her head on his shoulder, he followed and laid his head on hers, feeling her melt into him with such a simple gesture, returned affection. Â
A whine got louder as the subway train approached and slowly braked. The doors open and Arthur leads the way, seeing an open seat towards the back of the car and squeezing through several people too distracted to move. Arthur stood by the seat waiting for her to sit by the window, away from all the prying eyes of the crowded train. He made sure to stow their leftovers from the diner under their seat before directing his attention back to her. Making sure she was ok, that she was comfortable. He gazed at the crowded train again, taking stock of the uproar caused by one man defending himself. Such simple actions with such big reactions, he thought it funny. He looked back to her. "Are you okay?" He asked genuinely with concern in his voice. âYeah, you know it's just the crowds, itâs a little overwhelming is all. So many people.â She said while looking at the sea of folks that lined the subway car. She laid her head on his shoulder while he felt the weight of her words. âIâm sorryâ he replied. He felt bad that she was uncomfortable and wanted to do anything to make her feel better. He couldnât take back what he did but perhaps he could ease her tension? âWhat can I do?â He asked. âAs long as you're here with me and touching me, I think I'll be okâ she said while looking up at him. A coy smile with her eyes closed and nose scrunched. Arthur pulled her in closer, close was never close enough with her. The way she would melt into his arms when he held her, like every bad thing in her day or life just disappeared with his touch. Everything that hardened her, he softened. She did the same for him he thought. Those terrible things were so distant when she was near. He held her close, caressing her arms and shoulders, squeezing her tight. The train started to clear out a bit. It wasnât so crowded anymore, and things seemed a bit more lax. Arthur's mind raced as lustful thoughts began to brim. A montage of moments from the last time they rode the train together played out on his mind. He hoped she would invite him in tonight. Tonight, he would stay.Â
The not so unfamiliar bleating of the trains speaker system announced a delay due to a breakdown. The voice robotically warbles, stating all passengers must exit and board the next train. It was only about five minutes behind, not too bad, but it basically repacked the train car with all passengers exiting, plus the ones waiting on the platform. Arthur stood to exit awaiting Y/N to stand to help her out of her seat. He grabbed the leftovers, and they were the last two off the train as an employee walked through the car ensuring it was empty of passengers. People had already begun boarding the next train. Arthur again led the way in but no train car they passed had an empty seat. They would have to stand until one opened up. Arthur made sure to at least find a spot towards the back away from the bulk of the crowd. It wasnât the most ideal, but he tried to make it more bearable for Y/N. They pushed past people lining the sides of the cars, sprawled out across seats, reading books, listening to music, and chatting with other train goers. Typical subway ride, they did tend to be busier earlier in the nights when people were leaving work and heading to or from downtown Gotham. Â
The train swayed as they made their way back to a somewhat secluded corner. Rails lined the edges at waist level and overhead with straps clinging to the poles for people to hold onto. Arthur set the leftovers on a ledge between the seats and the back area where they stood. She set her purse next to it scrambling for footing as the train made its way through the tunnels. He stood behind her to help steady her, wrapping a hand around her waist. She leaned into his grasp, sending shivers up his spine. Her backside pressed into his groin, and he couldnât help the throbbing sensation that lit up every nerve. His thoughts once again wandering into the depths of his lust for her. Â
The train moved on. stop by stop, people got on and off. Each time it left the platform it flung the train car into near darkness once more. He loved watching how the lights from the tunnel would stream across her curves, illuminating every inch of her delectable body. A delicious outline he traced into his memories. He reveled in every bump, every turn of the tunnel as it sent her into him. She had to brace herself often shifting her legs against him and pressing her ass to him. He could feel the soft and pliable squish of her flesh each time her body moved. Even in the slightest. He could feel his blood rush through his body, causing him to sweat, his hands balmy, his collar, too tight. Every time she would brush against him, he would let out a soft grunt, sucking in air through his teeth in a hiss. He was painfully hard, and he knew she could feel it. Her movements becoming more pronounced against him, more sensual, he thought. If she was still nervous, he could not tell. But if she was, the best way she said to help her was to touch her. Maybe thatâs what she wanted?Â
He leaned back against the wall next the cabins exit door. Bracing himself against the wall as the train continued on. He then reached out to her pulling her flush to him once more, only a step back. Still keeping her close, still protecting her. He could feel his member throbbing against her as he watched the other passengers in the train car. No one paying attention to anything other than their own lives. He scanned the crowd watching for prying eyes as he slid his hands up to her chest tugging at the fabric of her sweater and playfully squeezing each breast within his hands. Heâs been wanting to touch the skin that peeked through the holes between the buttons since he first saw her tonight. He slipped his fingers inside, feeling the coldness and softness of her exposed skin. She laid her head back against him as he continued caressing her. He accidentally popped one of her buttons off on the sweater. He became afraid it would catch someoneâs attention if it flew somewhere, but alas it did not. He could now fit his whole hand through the gap and began grabbing the flesh through his fingers, feeling her nipples harden under his touch and pinching them gently. His eyes on the crowd the entire time. No one could see, even if they could he wasnât sure theyâd know what they were seeing, not right away at least. But it was pretty obvious if anyone were to notice. He was actively groping her in front of everyone for all to see, and yet, she was still covered and reveling in the act. Â
He kissed her neck and shoulders as he continued roaming her body, caressing, groping, and grabbing at her. He pulled her hair to the side, tenderly kissing her earlobe and behind her ear. She turned to kiss him. He met her lips with his own in a sloppy wet breathy lip lock. One of his hands began pioneering a trail south. Dancing ever so gently over her skin and sliding underneath her skirt. Her skirt was flowy enough that his hand underneath was mostly unnoticeable. It cascaded around his hand and wrist, covering up her bottom. For the most part. A lot of convincing was going on in his mind, in these moments. Reasoning why this is ok and how no one will know. An attempt to quell his own inner doubts. Regardless of those inner doubts he continued on. Ruled by his lust in these heated moments. His hand searched finding the lining of her panties then slowly slipped underneath. He could feel the heat emanating from her core. She was already soaked, ready, and waiting for him. He was taken aback again at how receiving she was to his touch, to his pervy advances. She had to have wanted it to, or be thinking the same right? His mind refocused. Â
He laid his chin on her shoulder as she leaned into him. He nimbly traced his fingers along her slit, spreading her wetness, feeling it coat his fingers in a slick warm essence. He wanted to take her right there without a care of who might see. The heat rose within him at the touch of her wetness. A confirmation that she wanted him in that moment as well. Enveloped in her essence and steadily rubbing up and down her slit a sweet cry emerged. âArthurâ she spoke lightly in his ear while panting. âPleaseâ. He both loved and hated when she would beg. He felt she should never need to, but that her doing it made him so incredibly weak. It was like a special set of magic words that made his brain go numb. Please. He would never refuse her. He slowly pushed two fingers in, and a moan escaped her lips. He immediately checked if anyone heard, trying to see if anyone was looking in their direction. The train car was so loud he doubted anyone could hear anything that wasnât a scream or intentionally loud speaking. It appeared no one noticed so he continued on. Rocking his fingers into her with the motions of the train as a guide. Her whole-body weight was on him as she relaxed into his grip, opening her legs a little wider for him. Mmm, she was such a good girl. So easy to please. Â
Arthur kept an eye on the crowd as he continued working his fingers within her, feeling her clench around him as she got closer and closer to the edge, bucking back into his every push. His length pressed firmly against her back, throbbing painfully beneath his pants. As if sensing his need, her hand reached down and began touching him through his pants. She traced the edges along his cock from length to tip. Again, that angelic voice pleaded in a voice he could never refuse. âArthur, pleaseâ He picked his chin up off her shoulder to meet her gaze. Is this truly what she wanted? What she was ok with? There was still a good amount of people on the train, some would consider it a decent sized crowd. No free seats yet. But she was looking at him, pleadingly, begging for it. âIt's okâ she mouthed to him. Giving him the confirmation he needed. He wouldnât want to do anything she didnât want to, but would let her take him as far as she would go. He would do anything for her. He was consumed with want. Arthur smiled while hastily reaching down to undo his pants in a way that wouldnât draw attention. He also wouldnât want them to completely fall down with movement. He shrunk back his hips and fumbled with the zipper before loosening his belt slightly and freeing his rock-hard length. It sprung up and pressed firm against her bare cheeks. The cold breeze against his blood-filled member almost stung, he couldn't wait to be inside her. So warm, so inviting, tight like a loving hug.Â
He grasped her cheeks holding them firm against him, squeezing him, burying his cock in the flesh to warm himself. A shiver shot through his core. He grabbed hold of each cheek, looping her panties on one finger as he spread her open. She pushed herself back, perhaps the train did as it jolted. It was no matter; his tip was at her entrance, and he could feel his pulse in his throat. While he held her spread open, he slowly began pushing himself into her. A low groan fell from his lips as he felt her accept him. So wet, but so tight. Her walls quivered around his length as her body shook taking it all in. With one hand he held her safely to him and with the other he returned to her breasts squeezing and groping feverishly as he plunged himself painfully slow in and out of her. His eyes on the crowd scanning as his cock bottomed out inside her, hitting her cervix. But so slowly. The train doing most of the work for them, each sway, each turn or stop forcing her onto him deeper and deeper. Â
He rested his chin on her once more, concentrating on his movements and making sure it wasnât obvious what they were doing in front of everyone. He made sure to reassure her constantly. Whispering in her ear, asking if she was ok, if she liked it, and if she felt better. He was only met with hasty nods and moans mixed with unintelligible speech and half formed words. Everyone around them in their own little worlds. Scrolling their phones, talking, reading, sleeping, daydreaming and swaying with the movements of the train car they all shared. All while she bucked back into him, driving him to the edge of his own control. How much longer before he says fuck it and just gets down to it without a care as to who might see. Last time was different, it was later, less crowded. But the feeling remained the same. She made him bold, made him lose control in the best way possible. He thought, this last week, Iâve lived more in 7 days than some people do in eighty years. He finally had something to look forward to, to live for. And with her, it was so easy.Â
Arthur had almost not noticed a seat opened up in front of them. The person had got up and never even looked back, for that he was thankful. He wasnât sure of what he would have done or could have done should that have happened. He only hoped it looked like he was just holding her. In this moment he was weak, succumbed to her will, her every innate desire he was actively trying to fulfill. Every push more intense than the last. He would grunt with every thrust that filled her completely. Gasping for breath as his heart raced. She let out a cry as he buried himself once more, her walls clenching around him, pulling him closer to his breaking point. He immediately became self-aware and scanned the crowd once more, shooting a hand up to cover her mouth as he continued fucking her. âShh, you gotta be good, or theyâll hear usâ he whispered in her ear, knowing it was no fault of her own. She nodded behind his grip, and he continued. One hand over her mouth, one buried in her sweater while he slowly started increasing his speed. Her mouth was covered by his hand, giving him a bit of the confidence he needed to start going faster and harder. He continued thrusting his full length into her, slamming into her to the hilt. Her body jerked with every thrust as they hit a rhythm. She would buck against him as he slammed forward. Eliciting light cries of passion from both.Â
He released his grip on her mouth as she reached in front of her, grasping a rail, bending only slightly to hold on. He thrusts a couple more times, grasping her hips and pulling her back into him as he buries himself deep. His cock spasming within. He thrusts one more time then holds her there to him almost releasing right there and having to stop for a moment. He wasnât done, never wanted to be done. The conundrum of pleasure he thought. Wanting to get to that final point, but not wanting to stop the pleasure that brings you there. Which is better? She looked back at him eyes imploring him to continue, when he gestured with a nod of his head to the seat in front of them. He quickly shields himself and slides into the seat sitting somewhere in the middle. His manhood now glistening with her slick and laying flush against his abdomen. She follows, stepping over his feet as he pulls her on top of him and looks up at her with a smile. She was now blocked from the gaze of anyone who may look. Her back turned to them, her focus, on him. Â
She took the lead as he sat, letting her do so. He watched as she shifted her legs to straddle him, lifting her skirt and pulling her panties to the side while grasping him firmly. He sucked in a gasp at the touch of her hands holding him and watched as she sat down slowly. Watching as he disappeared into her, filling her completely as she took her time allowing herself to adjust to his size in this position. Her face so angelic, so soft and cute. He looked into her eyes that sparkled at him as she slowly bucked her hips back and forth, grinding on him. He placed a hand on either hip, helping guide her, gently rocking her hips forward and back onto him. She kissed him hard lapping her tongue within his mouth, clanking teeth as she sucked and bit his lip before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. His hands held tight onto her backside as she began rocking faster on top of him. She would lift herself up ever so slightly before moving forward and slamming back down as she moved back. No one raised an eyebrow or looked in their direction. He was sure if they did all they would see is her head on his neck facing him, and the movements they were doing, well that could be from the train. After all they could be some pretty jerky rides at times. Â
He closed his eyes feeling her passion exude through her movements. Driving herself wild, hitting all the right spots as he held her there. She began kissing his neck, biting, and sucking. Leaving marks upon his skin. He bit down on his lip, stifling a groan. Every movement of her against him was like a dance. One he met with vigor. His body was a language she spoke fluently, and she was bringing him close to his end. He laid his head back. Feeling himself inside her fully, the pressure and warmth that surrounded him with ecstasy. His breathing quickened as she whispered in his ear how badly she wanted him, how good he felt inside her, and that she wanted him to fuck her hard and come for her. Â
Arthur began forcing her down with each thrust, meeting her with his own. He could feel her pull away from his neck. He looked up at her, focusing on the pleasure and the look of satisfaction on her face as she rode him in front of everybody. His body started to shake as each thrust pushed him closer and closer. He watched as she started to tremble with each thrust, small cries falling from her lips in little huffs as she looked at him pleadingly. Her face a dewy glow and flush red as she panted on top of him. She kissed his forehead as waves of passion began ripping through him. His body convulsed against hers. He could feel her tighten around him as she climaxed, clenching his length tightly within her, bringing him to his own climax. She had her arms wrapped around him as he held her still. His cock spasming deep within her, spilling his seed as he slowly rocked himself underneath her, filling her completely. Every pulsating shiver that shot through his body was met with one of her own as she panted in his ear, trying not to scream. With every convulsion he let out a low raspy groan into her hair. He felt her press her lips to his and exchanged a breathless sloppy kiss as they continued panting. Arthur still buried deep inside her. He could still feel her clench around him with every wave of pleasure that washed over her. Â
He held her there for some time. Not wanting to let go, not wanting this to end. The train was nearly empty when Arthur took stock of the situation. Not entirely sure when he lost control and stopped caring or paying attention. It was no matter. She sat atop him, cradled in his lap, still absorbing his essence. How warm her body felt, giving him a tingling sensation that buzzed his nerves. He held her close, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her endlessly where he could. He gazed on as the train took on a familiar haze. Everything was brighter and took on an almost heavenly glow. A low ringing in his ears that quickly subsided. All he could feel was her chest rise and fall against him as she breath peacefully in his embrace. He wanted to head back to her home with her, but right now in this moment, there was nowhere else that heâd rather be than right here right now, inside of her.Â
Summary: Chapter 3 of the Subway Obsessions series from Fem Readers POV. Y/N is smitten with Arthur. This adventure takes them on a date for the first time. After spending hours at the diner, they head back on the subway. Y/N does not like the crowded space in the subway train car and gets claustrophobic. How is it Arthur always knows the best way to sooth her?
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, breeding, public exhibitionism, begging, groping, mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of violence (murder), swearing, obsession, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff (super fluffy)
A/N: Couldn't wait to write this one. Wooo!! Spicy! The subway obsession series continues!!! As always, comment, re-blog, I would love to know what everyone thinks. But please be nice. Enjoy!!
Word Count: 7k
Song Inspiration
SERIES: Subway Obsessions
CHAPTER 3: Easy
"I think I love him," you said aloud, awaiting his call as you do daily. Every second that passed ticking by so slowly. You anticipated this every day, and yet you still awaited so anxiously. It had only been 2 days since you saw him, but since exchanging numbers, you two were all but inseparable. You played that night repeatedly in your mind. You could not believe the ways things went, how far you went. You felt feelings of guilt and shame, but not fully. Only because you had never done something so bold before, so... public! But with Arthur, you did it without question. Mostly, you felt invigorated, energized, happy... and above all, in love. You had only hoped it was not a one-time thing. But you had nothing to worry about as he had so eagerly encouraged staying connected. You exchanged numbers with him that fateful evening. You found each other once more on the train as you had hoped to. That night, Arthur and you rode the last train back together. You could feel yourself falling asleep in his arms as he held you next to him. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, the other on your thigh. You rested your head on his shoulder, then fell to his chest. You were not sure for how long you drifted off for. Him holding you tight, the motions of the train, and having just been thoroughly satisfied played a role you thought. All you know is the way his chest rose and fell as you listened to his heartbeat made you feel whole. It was a space of pure peace. You had been embarrassed, but he was so comfortable and reassuring. Kissing your forehead as you rest upon him, wiping hair away from your face blown across by the wind. You had never even thought about sleeping on the train before, but he made you feel safe and warm. It was too easy. Once you laid your head on his chest, you were lulled to sleep by the soundtrack of his beating heart. It was home. Once you had gotten to your stop, he awoke you with a light kiss. "Y/N, were here," he smiled.
You two wandered for a while, walking the streets closest to your home, not wanting the night to end. You had found a small park nestled in between some of the apartment buildings nearby with swings and stopped there for a while. You talked and swung, enjoying each others company. You kept sneaking in comments about your earlier activities. Trying to get a rise out of him. How he made you feel so good, how he felt so good, how fucking sexy he is. Just pouring positivity into him any chance you got. He made you feel special, and you wanted him to feel the same. You contstantly worried what he thought of you. You by no means perfect or truly healed, he just made you feel that way. He would chuckle sheepishly. He was still so timid, so shy. It was endearing. It only made you want him more. His smile was so kind, his whole being and the air around him just felt better, easier to breath. You stood, getting off your swing, stepping over to him as he slowed, grabbing his legs and leaning in for a kiss. You and him had kissed for what felt like hours, it was only moments. He would grab your face, your sides and your back. His touch, so tender, so purposeful.
As the night went on, you two eventually parted ways. He walked you to your door from the park, a block or two away, holding hands as you walked. He initiated holding your hand and insisted you walk on the inside of the curb. He was literally so cute. He was the most enchanting man youâve ever met. You two stood at your door, not wanting to leave. You wanted him to come inside, to stay the night, but you knew he had his own responsibilities. He looked at you with a coy smile before suggesting you exchange numbers. The way you fumbled your bag to get your phone out to put his number in must have looked ridiculous, you thought. He seemed not to care, trying to help you manage your things and not drop anything. He put his name in your phone with a little heart, and so did you.
After exchanging numbers, he pulled you in once more for a long, passionate kiss after saying goodbye, his hand at your lower back, leaning you back and kissing you intensely. A newly discovered weak spot you had for him, when he did this, you melted within. You knew youâd see him again but still kissed him as if it was the last time youâd ever get to, wanting to make an impression that would have him coming back. You didnât want him to leave and felt the pangs of loneliness the second his foot left your porch. He descended the steps, his hands holding yours until the distance became too much, and he let go finger by finger. You watched as he walked away, gingerly giving him a wave. "Be safe, Arthur! Let me know when youâve gotten home." You called out after him. "I'll text you when I get home and call you in the morning," he reassured, turning back to see if you were still watching as he left. Just like the first night, you helplessly watched as his figure shrunk into the distance.
After he left, you collapsed into your bed in a sigh of content and joy. You remembered fondly how his hands touched your body, each finger, exploring you with curiosity. Replaying the gentle touches in your mind like a broken record and giggling at the thought. You traced where his fingers touched, re living those precious moments. How they tickled you and teased you. How he looked at you so tenderly, his beautiful eyes devouring you, a look of hunger so inviting. He attended to your every need and more in those special moments. You both completely opened up to each other. How he kissed you so gently yet so feverishly, like he needed you, longed for you. Just thinking about it made your hair stand on end, and chills would race up your spine, your heart, so full. You felt wholeness. Not just with him, but just having known him both personally, as a friend, romantically and intimately as a lover. Replaying those moments within your mind almost constantly. Hoping to feel those sensations again. To feel his touch, his breath on your skin, and his eyes wandering your body, gazing into you, loving you. It made you want to wake up every morning. He was your last thought before drifting off to sleep and your first thought as your brain started waking up in the morning.
The days you went without seeing him were dull, empty, and full of anticipation. You were able to hold yourself over knowing you would see him again, and that you get to speak to him daily. Every morning he would send you a text. "Good morning pretty". You looked forward to that text everyday. Knowing he was thinking about you melted your heart, the feeling was mutual. Each day, growing closer and closer to him. You two would spend hours talking on the phone about everything. There was so much to learn about one another, so much to talk about. There was never an awkward silence. You would ask about his day, how he was doing, and when you would see each other again, he would ask the same. Scheduling was a bit difficult at times with him working days and you working nights so you spent a lot of time talking. You didnât mind, it gave you the opportunity to continue growing your connection with him. Sometimes you or he would be busy with errands or household chores and would just leave your phones on to hear the other person, being there for each other even if you couldn't be physically, but still being a presence. You wanted so bad to see him again. To feel his lips pressed against yours. A deep sense of longing and loneliness filled the air when he wasnât around. Like a stormy cloud following you around all day. He brightened that for you, made the negativity disappear.
Every time your phone chimed for a message or rang the tune you had set as his, your heart fluttered, and your stomach flipped. Like riding a roller coaster, he made you giddy with excitement and childlike fascination. You always picked up the phone with a boisterous "Arthur!" Unable to contain your happiness. He always laughed and repeated back, "Y/N!" While you both laughed for a moment. Even on days he found it particularly hard to be positive, he remained so for you, you could tell. You could always hear it in his voice underneath. You've gotten to know him pretty well over the last couple of days. It seemed like a short time, but you truly felt like you knew him, like youâd known him forever. A long lost love, like the other part of you. A missing puzzle piece that fit so perfectly with you. When he was upset, you felt it too, and it hurt. You internalized it. Always trying to find ways to help him or make him feel better. A lot of times, it just meant listening to him. Letting him vent. He would follow it up with such praise. Happy you were there to just be there and listen. Something he says no one does for him in his life. You hated how the world around him treated him and the cards he had been dealt. He may have vowed to protect you, but you had sworn to yourself you would protect him as well. Protect his peace, be his peace. When he told you about how he was jumped you all but got up yourself to go find those low life mother fuckers and deal with the problem. It brought out parts of your psyche you had dealt with so long ago. The anger that consumed you was lethal. And you would do whatever you needed to. Healed or not. You wanted to be his safe space, the person he could come home to. No judgements, no anger, no hate, just love, compassion, and understanding.
On the days that were particularly hard for him, you were his person to vent to. No matter what he said or did regardless of the context, you were there for him in any capacity he needed. You would run to him at the drop of a hat if he needed. Sometimes you felt like you needed it too. You wanted to go to him, to sooth him. However he wanted it. But just like you were his comfort, he was for you as well. On bad days for you, you would await his call. Eager to hear his voice, it soothed you. Just knowing the person on the other end of the phone cared enough to listen meant the world. Arthur was your world, you didnât deny that. Every thought, every decision you made wasnât done without thinking of him. Would he like this? would he want this? what would he think or say or do in this situation? etc. etc. No decision was made by you no matter how small or simple with considering Arthur.
Today Arthur was free! No booking from the job, and you were off as well. Taking some much needed PTO after your little discretion the other night after not showing up. Theyâll live, you think. You'd honestly throw it all away for him, but you know heâd never want that of you, so you settled on trying to make it work. Today was that day. He wanted to take you out. "A real date," he had said. His words surrounded you like an orchestra. Date? You giggled like a little girl internally, practically squealing. You were beyond elated, foaming at the mouth from excitement while lust tinged in your core. You took the time to get ready and find a nice outfit, nothing too fancy. You settled on a fitted black button-up sweater and a matching black pleated skirt and a pair of sneakers. If Arthur was going to put his hands on you tonight, you thought you wanted him to have easy access. Just the thought made your palms sweaty.
That night Arthur had showed up to your door to take you to Paulines Diner with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, yellow lilies tied up with a white ribbon. It looked like he picked them and arranged them himself. How thoughtful! He was wearing his yellow corduroy jacket, a button down white dress shirt and brown slacks with Romeos. His hair fell in tufts of loose curls about his face and neck. His smile beamed at you as you opened the door. You took the flowers and embraced him heavily, breathing a long sigh of relief as you swung your arms around his neck and held him in a long hug. Finally, you thought. Finally, you are whole once again. He was chivalrous in the way he courted you. A true gentleman, pulling out your chair, taking your jacket. You imagined his face between your legs again, this kind face sitting in front of you that was a couple nights ago, ravaging you mercilessly. Heat rose in your cheeks as you sat at the table. Trying to push the thoughts aside for the sake of the date, you continued on. The night went off without a hitch. Arthur was the light you so needed in your life.
The dinner was a mostly pleasant experience. A small hole in the wall type of establishment. A neon red sign reading 'Paulines' in a cursive font lit up the entrance leading to an open dining area with red velvet seats and round brown tables. Bright white LED's lined the ceiling while yellow and white checkered tile lined the floor from wall to wall. It was bright and inviting with the smell of fryer oil and marionberry pie still hanging in the air. You both opted for a booth to sit as the waiter handed you both a menu. At one point during your evening after ordering, Arthurs food had come out wrong. He peeked under the bun of his burger and a look of annoyance then resignation crossed his face. With him being too timid to say anything not wanting to cause problems, you spoke up for him. Telling the waiter he had asked for no tomatoes on his burger, and sending it back kindly. The waiter apologized and came back with the correct order without further issue. Arthurs smile beamed with appreciation as if no one had stood up for him before, however simple of an act it might have been. You smile back and wink as you two continued your evening. The food was great, but you two only finished about half of your meals before splitting a slice of pie. You spent most of the time talking and enjoying each otherâs company. You watched in amazement at how kind he was, how he spoke, his cadence and tone, always so gentle. It was freeing being with Arthur. You never felt like you had to hide or pretend with him. Being with him was just... easy.
He talked about work and home life, you did as well. He expressed he felt terrible about making you miss work the other night but you reassured him it was a blessing and only wished it had happened sooner. You could see him blush slightly. Not only is that place highly toxic and full of bullies, it all led you to him. He jokingly said you should quit, not knowing you were truly considering it. He brought about new drives within you, made you feel like you could do anything, pursue new goals, new hobbies, new dreams. He was a space of inspiration, your muse, you loved him. After careful thought, yes, you really did, and only felt that love grow every day. Gazing on as he spoke so openly with you, you were fully enamored with him. As the night went on and his coffee kept getting cold, the two of you opted to leave before closing. Bellies full of food and hearts full of content, a night of endless laughs and genuine conversation. All in all, the best date youâve ever had honestly. Once outside, the rain began to darken every surface. At first a few spots here and there, but soon it was pouring and you found yourselves running for the subway station. It was a short walk, an even shorter run but he stopped you before you reached the stairs, quickly getting soaked under the downpour. He took the moment to kiss you, pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours. One hand holding yours and the other at the small of your back. He quickly stepped forward dipping you and pulling you back up for another kiss. He then spun you around, watching a smile cross your face, your hair clinging to your now wet skin. You kissed him back, deeply, and passionately. He was nothing if not a complete romantic. He had you swooning. The two of you began descending down the long escalator, stealing a kiss from Arthur as you got closer to the platform. You couldn't go long without touching him in some way, he was irresistible.
It was earlier in the evening when the rain had started, still you had spent a good four hours at the diner with him. Upon approaching the subway platform, you noticed there were a lot more people around. It was about 8pm but there was a lot of traffic. Quite noticeably, a lot of people wearing clown masks. You and Arthur had spoken candidly about the cities unrest and the ongoing protests. You just hadnât seen it for yourself yet. You two related on a lot of the political stuff going on in Gotham. He spoke about it so passionately, something that related to him on a deep personal level. He was noticeably uncomfortable when you brought up the murders that happened a night ago on the subway, but who wouldn't be honestly. A lot of goings on in the city. You never pushed conversations that were possible triggers for him or were just plain uncomfortable. It was something to be mindful about around him, especially knowing you tend to trauma dump and have no filter. Candid conversations could come across as blunt or insensitive and you wanted nothing more than to make sure Arthur felt he could trust you and depend on your kindness. You tried everyday to be better not just for him but for yourself. Having worked on your own mental health struggles for so long, it was a learned behavior you developed having hurt others in the past. We all make mistakes. But with Arthur, you never wanted to, ever. Even though he was so kind, he would probably forgive you.
You knew there were still things Arthur kept from you, but you didnât push or expect it from him. You knew in time he would come to open up even more if he should so choose to, but you also understood he is still him, and the personal things heâs dealt with were his stories and his alone. You wanted to give him that respect and just hoped he would trust you when he needed. You always reassured him you weren't going anywhere and that no matter what, he can always come to you in any capacity, and you would never judge him. A mutual respect you both shared. Something he deserves.
You both stepped to the platform for the train heading back towards downtown, maybe Arthur could come in tonight, you planned on at least inviting him in for a drink, a little night cap if you will. Sure, you wanted him intimately again, but you also just wanted to hold him close again, to hear his heartbeat as the air from his nose drifted across your forehead. What a sensation and feeling that had been. How close you had felt to him. You haven't been close like this with anyone in years. You found it a chore to be yourself and open up to new people. Being vulnerable was too scary with a past like yours. But Arthur accepted you with open arms.
A yellow stripe lines the ground two feet away from the subways ledge. Arthur held your hand as you two stood there. You leaned slightly against him, resting your head upon his shoulder. You could feel him rest his head upon your head. Such a welcome touch, so affectionate, so wholesome you thought to yourself. Your heart filled with felicity. A familiar hiss and screech approached from the distance as a push of air whips past you and Arthur. The subway train abruptly hauls to a stop, aligning each car door to each platform entrance seamlessly. Immediately you spot a free seat in the back, you two could share. Most of the others were taken up by people sleeping on their sides, scrolling their phones, or talking with others. Those that werenât sitting swayed with the subway as they held on to rails and the straps that clung to the ceiling poles. Spaces like this made you claustrophobic. There were too many people for your liking. It made you nervous. You could feel your body tense and heart rate increase. As if sensing your fear, Arthur squeezed your hand and led the way, pushing through the crowd of people lining the subway car, finding the elusive empty seat in the back of the train car.
Arthur gives you the window seat, shielding you from the outside world, once again, your hero. Arthur sets the dinersâ left overs they had put in a bag for you two lined with red writing that says 'thank you' on it carefully under the seat while eyeing the crowd. A look of pride perhaps, maybe a look of delight? Crossed his face while scanning the crowd. He wore a devilish smile, only seen by you for a moment before turning back to you. His eyes still kind, searching yours. "Are you okay?" He asked authentically while sliding an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Yeah , you know its just the crowds. Its a little overwhelming is all. So many people" you said in earnest while laying your head on his shoulder. He was looking at you with concern. "Iâm sorry" he replied as if he were the cause. You reassured him you would be fine. "What can I do?" He asked. Without thinking you reply "As long as your here with me and touching me, I think Iâll be okay." you looked up from his shoulder gazing into his eyes as he looked back down at you. He scooted closer while pulling you closer to him, bodies flush against one another. You breathed deeply, knowing it was ok, feeling sheltered in his hold. He rubbed circles with his fingers onto your arm where he held you. Massaging you delicately. His gentle touch sent chills up your arm and down your back. You began remembering once again the things that you did the last time you ride the subway with him. You mind fills with the moments you held dear, how his makeup smeared on his face and you not wanting to wash it from yours that same evening. How he looked at you, the way his eyes roamed your body, studying every curve, every fold. How his voice held you, his grunts and moans, a melodic serenade made just for you. But most of all, his touch, oh how his touch made you tingle all over, made your blood rush to your face and groin.
For you, everything about him yelled powerful. Like a sleeping lion, you felt others must be underestimating him, taking advantage of his gentle and kind nature. You took that pain on yourself and made it your daily job to make him feel appreciated, loved, and revered. Yes, he was powerful. He held power over you, whether he knew it or not. You admired him for being who he was in this world, and appreciated him more and more as time went on.
The train swayed, and with it, its passengers. The cabin was dimly lit, the walls grey, painted with graffiti, and the low hum of buzzing lights and the chatter of people. A typical environment indicative of a typical ride on the subway. Except this night was different, you were with Arthur once again. And he was making you feel all kinds of bold. Despite the crowd, you had eased into it, acclimating to this uncomfortable setting. It was actually not as much of an issue you thought it might be. It wasnât too crowded after the first stop or two. Not shoulder to shoulder like it was, but still plenty of protestors donning their masks with the uncanny likeness of your lover. Not that it mattered just a passing thought. You were too busy thinking about all the things you wanted to do to him, to show him. You thought about your night ahead, how it might end if he agreed to come inside when you invite him in. The train speaker bleats above, stating there was a breakdown or something to that effect. That you would have to get on the next one behind in about five minutes. People began streaming out the doors as an employee walked through, ensuring it was empty. You and Arthur stand up, grabbing the leftovers under the seat. The last two people to walk out.
Unfortunately everyone had already started pilling into the next train, leaving you and Arthur no where to sit. He once again stood in front pushing through a crowd of maybe 6 people in the aisle and found a spot to stand in the back near a ledge with a rail. He motioned for you to stand in the corner as he slid behind you to hold you in place as the train began its course. He had sat the leftovers on the ledge behind the bars, you set your purse there as well. It almost created a wall from the other folks but not realistically. Enough that you felt a bit better, a bit more separate from the crowd. You were still a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people you had to share space with, but you knew Arthur was with you which gave you some peace of mind. Arthurs hand was around your waist with the lightest pressure on your lower abdomen, it felt secure. His hands were balmy, you could almost feel his palms sweating through your sweater. What was he thinking about? You wondered. Were his thoughts as dirty as mine?
The train moved on and people got on and off. Each time the train left the platforms, everyone was in near darkness again, only dimly lit by less than stellar lights that haphazardly lined the ceiling. Wires torn and buzzing as the train swayed and jerked. You loved it when the train would jerk or when it would come to a stop. Each time pushing Arthur into you as you both steadied yourself. He held you still, resting his chin on your shoulder. But every sway of the train made you brush against him in a way that was becoming very noticeable. Maybe you leaned into it every time. Honestly, you couldnât help it. A nice little excuse to move things along further, why not seize the opportunity? Every time the train car swayed, you would emphasize your movement to shift your stance in front of him, jiggling your cheeks against him, brushing against the stillness in his pants. Every time it happened, he would let out a sharp breath.
You could feel him lean back, bracing himself against the wall by the midway doors that separate the train cars. He gently pulls you back only a step or two and you are flush against him once more. You can feel how hard he is as his cock throbs against your backside. Immediately your face is flush with red. An unknown feeling takes over you, your mind going blank as Arthurs hands begin touching you. The hand he so tightly held you close with was now wandering your chest. Squeezing each mound of flesh through his fingers tugging gently at the fabric. His fingers began pressing through the gaps in the buttons on your sweater, his fingers warm against your skin underneath. He gets his hand through the gaps, popping a button open in the process. He begins grabbing your breasts with his bare hands, your nipples, instantly erect and easily seen through your top. He starts to kiss your neck lightly. Behind your ear and on your shoulders, pulling your hair to the side and kissing your ear lobe. Your eyes dart around the cabin. No one is looking. You watch as people chat, sleep, listen to music and read. All while Arthur is openly groping you in front of them all unbeknownst to them. He knew this train car was a bit more packed and that youâd likely be overwhelmed. He was helping you the best way he knew how and the only way you asked, by touching you.
You turn your head to the side to meet him with a half kiss, sloppy and breathy as he continues to paw at your breasts. One hand ventures down, sliding ever so playfully down your abdomen tickling you. Then, slowly dancing its way up under your skirt. Your breathing hitched as you felt his hand slide down the front of your panties. His hand moved down, trailing your slit stealthily, feeling your wetness. You were dripping with anticipation for him. The moment you felt how hard he was the first time you brushed against him had your mind twisted in a pretzel. Ready to do anything he asked. But he had an air of confidence about him tonight. Pridefully taking what now was his. You offered it so willingly. "Arthur" you panted in his direction. "Please". No sooner than the words left your lips was he sliding his fingers into your cunt. Heat washed over your body, a volcanic flood of passion.
Your whole body lit up at his intimate touch as if it was starved. A slight moan escaped your lips as you felt his fingers penetrate you. Two fingers pulling you to the edge. You leaned back into him, further resting your weight on him, feeling him throb helplessly against you as he fingered you in front of everyone. Luckily for you, your skirt fell loosely over his hand. No one could truly see anything if they looked, but it was painfully obvious what was taking place. You couldnât see Arthurs face, and so were hoping he was mindful enough to pay attention just in case. He continued, slowly working his fingers into your sopping wet cunt. Your body ready for him, begging for more. You wanted him inside you fully in front of everyone. You no longer cared in this moment. Everyone else just faded away, no one but the two of you mattered.
You could feel Arthur mindlessly grinding into you with every thrust of his fingers. His length pressed up so hard against you. It was not fair. You wanted more, and your body craved him like a drug, and he was teasing you with your fix. With one hand you reach behind you, tracing the outline of his hardened cock against his pants. He hisses at the touch, sucking in air sharply through his teeth and lifting his head up off of your shoulder. You glance back catching his gaze. A look painted his face, a look of skepticism. As if what he was doing was not already in the realms of wildly out there perversions, what was adding in one more thing? Of course you wanted him inside you, but it wasnât selfish, you wanted him to experience release as well. You imagined it must be painful to be that hard while he toyed with you. You wanted to help him as well, and truly, you could help each other in this moment.
âArthur, please?â You ask then mouth the words âits okâ to him. His gaze darkens, and his eyes narrow, that look of want overcoming his eyes as they sparkled at you. A smile curls at his lips, and he takes his hands away momentarily, reaching down to undo his pants just enough they won't fall, but enough to unsheathe his manhood. He pushed his hips back slightly, giving him enough room to maneuver. When he pulled down the waistband of his underwear underneath his still belted slacks, his cock flung up standing at attention and pressed against your cheeks perfectly in the center. He used his hands to squeeze your cheeks around his cock as you swayed with the natural movements of the train. You once more lean back into him his cock pressing against your entrance. He hastily reached under your skirt, pulling your panties aside. He then placed a hand on each cheek squeezing them and spreading you while carefully and slowly pushing himself into you. One hand returned to your breast while the other held your hip to him. His hand groping your breasts, one, and then the other while he slowly rocks in and out of you. Careful not to draw any unwanted attention from the other passengers. With your back to him and pressed against him, it probably just looked like you were both standing thereâŚ. Well, with his hand in your shirt. But he was careful to move in a way that wasnât noticeable by anyone in the vicinity. Slowly rocking his hips to and from. You clenched around him, trying hard not to scream out. Small moans escaped your lips, but not loud enough to alert anyone. The sound of the train itself was a loud white nose with unintelligible chatter.
His chin rests on your shoulder, breathing heavy into your ear and whispering praises. He asked if you were ok, if you liked this, and if it made you feel better. You met him with hasty nods as you tried not to scream with pleasure. He was going so slow, so painfully slow. You watched as people talked and laughed, typed on laptops and phones, slept in the corners, people getting on and off the train. You watched as someone ambled out of the seat and off the train right in front of you without looking back. All while Arthur was inside of you. A sea of people going about their daily lives while Arthur fucked you for all to see. He would let out soft little grunts every time he buried himself in you fully. Every push more intense than the last. You hoped for constant stopping and going as the inertia from the brakes forced you on him harder and faster and vice versa when the train would stop or go. You hoped for a rough ride, literally and figuratively. This was so bold of him too, you thought. From what youâve got to know about him, this didnât seem like typical baseline behavior, but it wasnât for you either! Perhaps you brought these traits out of one another, a sleeping confidence only activated by someone akin to your own soul.
Arthurs thrusts became more pronounced. You noticed him bucking harder, still slowly, but he would slam as he went to the full hilt. Causing you to gasp out. His hand immediately shot up from your breasts and covered your mouth. "Shhh, you gotta be good, or theyâll hear usâ he whispered in your ear. You nodded to let him know you understood. Of course you did, but it was easier said than done when he was bringing you so close to your end. He held his hand over your mouth, continuing to slam his full length into you. A little more noticeably, probably a lot more noticeably. Deeper and deeper with a blind manâs passion. You reached a hand forward and grabbed a rail to steady yourself. Arthur reached his hands down, grasping your hips tightly and thrusting you back onto him. He fills you completely, a pain that is too pleasurable to measure. He slams one more time, stopping there and holding you to him. You gaze back at him and see him motion to the empty seat in front of you with his head. He sits down somewhere in the middle quickly, his cock red, swollen and flat against his stomach. You follow his lead, and he pulls you on top of him. Away from the sea of faces behind you, you were no longer facing them but facing him. Your main focus, you place a knee on either side of his legs, shifting your panties to the side once more. You grasp him and hold him right below your entrance, he is looking up at you so innocently. His eyes wide, begging for you as you slowly slide down onto him. Taking him in fully, giving him and yourself time to adjust. You think youâd be used to his size by now but this was only your second time making love with him.
You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, hoping it just looks like you are asleep on him. Hoping no one walks towards the back of the train, hoping no one looks. He takes his hands and places one on each hip, rocking you back and forth on him. His head grinding into your g spot. You follow his lead, rocking and swaying your hips ever so gently and lifting yourself up before coming back down and rocking back again. You kiss his ear and suck his neck, leaving loving marks behind. You whisper things in his ear to tease him, make him blush, knowing anyone could look over and see his face above the seats. You feel his chest rise and fall with each heavy breath he takes. His breathing getting faster and sparser now. Straddling his full length, feeling him fill you, even in a place as public as this, felt so intimate, so private. You could feel yourself approaching the precipice. His cock, hitting the right spot repeatedly in an up and down and forward and back motion. You cooed in his ear singing his praises. Telling him how fucking good it felt when he was inside you, for him to fuck you hard.
You felt waves of pleasure begin to crash, teetering on the surface. You pull back to look at Arthur, his eyes open, feeling you move your head. His head was snapped back, riding the high of pure passion between you two. He was not keeping an eye out, but you couldnât care less. It looked like both of you were asleep, you hoped. He looked at you, his face full of concentration as you peppered kisses on his forehead and hair. His face grimaces with every thrust between you. As you approached your climax, so did he. The hardest part was not crying out and quietly moaning in his ear as he thrusted, he seed deep within your cunt. Grinding it in with every thrust. You laid your forehead to his, locking eyes as you rocked back and forth with the waves of pleasure that washed over you. Arthur breathed heavily in raspy pants as his cock pulsated deep within you. Your walls clenching tight around him with every pulse that shot through your body making you shiver with each one. Arthur closes his eyes and presses his lips hard to yours in a out of breath kiss. Sloppy, trying to catch each otherâs mouths in a kiss while catching your breaths. As the throbbing inside started to subside you remained seated on Arthur. He was still buried deep within you, a spasm erupting every once in awhile sending a shock through him. You had wrapped your arms around his neck holding him close, smelling his essence. The person held in front of you, so vulnerable. It was times like this you could see him clearly, no façade, nothing to prove, but everything to give. So pure of heart and of intention. You glance back, the subway train now nearly empty. When did that happen? Where are we? Did we miss any stops? Shit, you think to yourself. But it mattered not. Tonight, he was coming home with you. You werenât done yet, unsure you ever would be, but never wanted to be. As you cradled yourself in his embrace and him in yours, you thought right here right now, with him, there was no where else you would rather be. You only wished for the night to continueâŚ
Summary: Chapter 2 of the Subway Obsessions series from Arthurs POV. Arthur canât stop thinking about Y/N since the night he was first able to talk to her. He endlessly retraces his steps, hoping to run into her once more, to see the woman he fantasizes about night and day, to make those fantasies a reality.
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, praise, begging, mentions of violence, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of mental disorders, mentions of self-harm (past), stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff, aftercare
A/N: It's a long one guys! I couldn't help myself!!! I love the stories from Arthurâs POV! Finally, some good stuff here!! I would also like to say that the duality of these stories when read from either POV, complement each other so well. Itâs crazy to see the dynamics in how they see one another. Both carry self-doubt but see the other as a powerful and confident creature. Seeing the best in each other and the worst in themselves. I hope they find solace in each other to see their own true potential and know they are both loved and worthy of loving! And as always, I welcome tips, ideas, comments, and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers!!
Word Count: 10.7k
SERIES: Subway Obsessions
CHAPTER 2: For Him
Today had been long and depressing as it so quite often is. Arthur found it difficult not to allow the weight of everything to break him down. He often relapsed back to those restless nights where he would play out scenarios of happiness and content within his mind, diluting the day and its stressors. He had let his life and everyone in it beat him down mercilessly, inhumanely. Today was like every other, people looking down on him. He knew he could be off putting in stressful situations. No one understood or cared to understand why he laughed in those times of stress or heightened emotions. No one cared. The problem with this city. Lack of funds, lack of resources, beat the next person below you even further. A stranger treating him no better than the dirt under their shoe. He found solace and respite in one fantasy. One he played out over and over in his mind until he thought it reality. One he had tried to make a reality for days gone by now.
Things have changed during this time. A confidence growing within him as realizations came to fruition. Although he remained timid, he was no longer so afraid. The city was rife with unrest, he wasnât the only one anymore. Not the only one shunned by this terrible place, pushed aside, forgotten, and laughed at. Protestors grew in numbers by the day, unwilling to stand by while injustice took place. It emboldened him to take action. At least now, he had protection. A weapon he was given by a colleague at work. The fantasy woman he so often wished to see had almost suggested it herself. He replayed her words in his mind however few they had exchanged. âI had to buy mace and stuff to protect myselfâ he thought he would end a life without question to protect her. The past few days, a blur in his mind when thinking about her. How her hair cascaded over her shoulders, how her chest rose and fell as lights streamed across her face while the subway made its crawl through the cityâs endless tunnels. Her skin looked soft; in his mind, he could feel her. He imagined tracing his fingers over her stomach, tickling her, and kissing her deeply. His thoughts were mostly innocent, but she stirred emotions in him he had never felt. Not like this, this was real. She was real. He hoped. âY/Nâ he mused. Her name lingering vibrantly in his mind since the day he finally got to speak to her, rolling off his tongue with ease. Salivating at the taste of it as he spoke it into being like a mantra, hoping she would appear.
Day after day, he wandered the stations platform, where she would board and depart without catching a glimpse. He had feared he had once again created something so perfect that wasnât tangible. He choked up at the thought, pushing it away. But it had to be, right? She was kind, beautiful, not scared of him, not annoyed, not hateful, understanding, peaceful. She was perfect. Everything this monster of a place was not. She was like an escape from reality, a light at the end of the tunnel. It absolutely seemed too good to be true. Yet, without fail, he continued on, always and forever, searching for her face in a crowd. She was a bright, colorful flower in a dull and grey city he felt so alone in. If he concentrated hard enough, he thought he could still smell her on him. Had he imagined that, too? He was always so unsure of his own thoughts, not ever fully willing to trust them. His heart ached for so many reasons, but this new fascination he had with the woman with the pink coat had him practically comatose. He spent endless nights after wandering the subway at home sitting on the couch smoking cigarettes back-to-back, contemplating what he would even do if he were to see her again. Even though he did every time he closed his eyes. He wanted her there with him physically. To hold him, to touch him tenderly and lovingly. He imagined her caress. Her small hands, soft, and supple. Lingering on his skin. The mere thought made him shiver, goosebumps crawled up his arms, and hairs stood on end.
Tonight, he would once again try to find her. He would search endlessly, every train car, every seat. As he did nightly, hoping to find a trace of her existence. Wanting so badly for his fantasies to play out in reality, but he would settle just to bask in her energy. She fueled him daily. The thought of her, making him want to wake up in the morning. He never wanted to live to old age, but he thought with her, it might not be so bad. His body longed for her, and his heart yearned for her love and attention. A deep sense of emptiness held him as he thought of her, wishing, hoping to have her, to be with her. Before bed, he would pleasure himself to the image of her smile, of her peeking at him through her hair and blushing. She had a hold on him, a power he would happily relinquish if she were to ever ask. He would drop at her feet and beg to look in her direction. She made him feel small, and he feared her rejection. A fear that nearly debilitated him as he walked toward the doors of the subway train car.
A gust of wind hit him in the face, a cold slap that immediately brought him back to reality. His heart raced as he stepped through the doors. Upon entry to the train car, he immediately noticed some not so friendly characters, so he carried on, careful not to draw their attention to him. Heâd almost forgotten he had his clown makeup on. He straightened his suit, opened the cabin door, and headed to the next train car, searching for that friendly face he couldnât stop dreaming of. The day he saw her, something in him changed. He had vowed to protect her, a promise he would keep no matter what. Even if her affections werenât returned. She was the only person besides Gary he could think that has ever shown him any sort of kindness. A stranger who was willing to sit with him on the train, share space, and speak politely and openly. A gesture he did not take lightly. He only wished more people could be like her, but feared for her in a place like Gotham. Her soft features and calm, loving voice that enveloped him in a warmth akin to a hug. He felt the need for her swell within him. His heartbeat quickened as he tried to slow his breathing.
All six train cars were empty. Not empty of people, but empty of the one person he had hoped or cared to see. He counted the bench seats that lined the aisle right before the last section of the train. He had remembered where she sat last time, methodically mapping the seats out in his mind then transferring it to his journal later that evening after watching her figure shrink in the distance as the train sped away when she got off. He often thought of that moment, thinking she had turned around to come back to him. That she had changed her mind or had a second thought, something to say left unsaid. The need to know what those words may have possibly been weighed on his mind heavily. Often imagining conversations that led to her leaning in and kissing him, asking him to go to his place or to hers. He created entire storylines in his mind as he sat in the same seat in the same car he did every night. The train was dark as it traveled the tunnels only dimly lit by the amber fluorescents that buzzed above, an occasional tunnel marker light or platform stop illuminating within the cabin. Shadows stretched across the floor, outlining the windows, seats, and poles closest to the lights. Stop after stop, and the last of humanity exited to the platforms. Soon, the subway platforms and train cars were near vacant. By the time the train car reached platform 17, it was empty except for Arthur. Two more stops. His mind warbled. He inhaled sharply, patiently awaiting the arrival of platform 19.
The breaks could be heard squealing to a halt as the loud speaker bleated above. A âdingâ rang out, then an electric voice chimed âplatform 19 almost inaudibly, but Arthur knew the platform at this point. The doors opened with a hiss as the pressure exchange caused wind to billow into the car and blow past his face. He couldnât see anyone as the train stopped. Maybe a couple of people huddled in the far corner, not wanting to be seen. As all the doors opened, he steadied himself, sitting up straight and trying to peak his head around the rows of poles and seats. A gasp caught in his throat like a lump, and he found himself sweltering and out of breath. It was her! He watched as she carefully scanned the seats. Just like last time, he thought. I canât believe sheâs real! He wanted to rush to her before she even saw him and grab her, spin her around, dip her, and plant a passionate kiss. She instilled a feeling of lust within him so powerful that just the thought of her looking in his direction and smiling was enough to make his manhood weep for her.
Crossing aisle after the aisle, she locked eyes with him. A smile brimmed on her lips. Instead of running to her, he flashed a friendly smile and waved her over, offering a seat as he had done before. He watched as she made her way towards him. Observing everything about her, taking in her beauty. He saw how her hair swayed down to her waist, blowing in her face as the wind blew around her. She was a fever dream, her beauty unfathomable, and he felt himself melting, his mind, in hysterics. She wasâŚSo. Beautiful. Almost otherworldly he thought, too beautiful for this world, too kind.
She wore shiny black knee-high boots. A light-colored sweater that looked fuzzy and warm. It exposed her midriff just enough to see a peek of skin above a black skirt that would rise and fall above her knees as she walked. The doors of the train clicked shut around her as she approached. A strong breeze blew past her knees, blowing her skirt forward where he sat. He watched as the wind blew up her skirt, exposing her legs and barely getting a peek at her panties. White, he thought they must be, but he only got a quick look. He couldnât help how his body reacted at the sight. He bit his lip to keep his thoughts from being so overtly exposed on his face. Fuck, she saw me look, he thought. But how could he not? His face flushed and he felt heat in his cheeks but played coyly. She walked so gracefully, never missing a step. The train doors had closed, enclosing them in together. The subway had started its decent into the tunnels as it did that first fateful night. How might it turn out tonight? Arthur pondered which of his fantasies he liked the most. But his favorite of all ended with him cradled in her chest. Her holding him, accepting everything he was and was not, and loving him despite that.
He was surprised that she seemed happy to see him. After he hadnât seen her for days, he thought she might be avoiding him, that her being nice was just who she was, but that she didnât care to see him again or worse. He had only hoped she would show up today. He felt an electricity between them last time. A connection previously thought unattainable, especially with someone who looks like her and talks like her. She was kind, comforting, sweet, and unmistakably gorgeous. Interrupting the thought process of ruminating, he stood grabbing a rail and extended his hand out to her, being the gentleman his mother raised him to be. He offered to help her sit down, hopefully next to him. To his surprise, she obliged, happily taking his hand in hers. He immediately helped her to the inner seat to protect her if need be. Anyone would have to go through him first. A hand on her lower back to help guide her wasnât too forward, was it? He thought. He wanted so badly to touch her, to feel her warmth.
Sheâs here, sheâs really here. His mind was spinning, and sheâs next to me. She touched my hand. They were as soft as he had imagined, small, dainty, and warm. Her fingers brushed his palm as she let go to sit. Tickling him, making him sweat under his collar. His suit felt tight all of a sudden. Her mere presence next to him put him at ease. She was peace. His muscles relaxed, his face un-tensed. Shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching. She was the embodiment of tranquility. A drop of cold water on his tongue in the desert sun, and he was so, so thirsty.
When he sat next to her, he could feel his body slide against hers, brushing her shoulders hips and thighs. The rest of the train car was cold, but being next to her created warmth. He relished in the feeling of being next to her, subtly touching her with his body every time the train car swayed the right way, making him wish for a bumpy ride if only to bump into her. He sighed with content, breathing deeply, smelling her perfume, making him dizzy and intoxicated. How he would like to just devour her if she would let him. Consume her entire essence, letting her wash over him. Bathing in her existence if only for a short time.
She turned to face him as he did her. Their legs, meeting somewhere in the middle of the seat. Her face was so light, unburdened by the nature of evil plaguing the city. He envied her in a way he could only express with want. He wanted her. Arthur became aware once more that he was in full clown makeup. He felt silly, no clown pun intended. She didnât know, so he thought if he didnât explain himself, she would be put off, turned off, scared, or worse, wouldnât like him. He found the courage to address the metaphorical âelephant in the roomâ. âIâm a clownâ he chuckled sheepishly and broke eye contact with her, looking down. âI work as a clown for a talent agency," pointing to the makeup that covered his face. He continued on. âBut my dream is to become a comedian. I want to bring laughter and joy to the worldâ he stated this confidently but was unsure how she would feel about it. It was his truth, what he had been told from such a young age, something positive in this never-ending barrage of torment. He punched down on himself, thinking, why would I say that? That was so stupid. He examined her face, hoping for a positive reaction. Needing the affirmation that this was ok, that she was ok with him like this. That she accepted it. She had already been smiling, but her lips curled up further, eyes closing slightly, creating lines on each side. âArthur!â She belted out cheerfully, shoving his shoulder playfully. A welcome sound. It's so bright and enchanting, like a song. Her voice was pure poetry. The feeling of her hand on his suit, the gentle push, he wanted to reach his shoulder and touch the same spot, to relive the feeling. âI didnât know you wanted to be a comedian! I love that! And I love the makeup!â Her hand lightly grabbed his leg in a playful motion. Her touch sending shivers up his leg, he stammered, needing to catch his breath. She loved it? Amazing, he thought. How can someone be this perfect? How could she exist here? The urge to keep her close grew ever stronger. Not anticipating her surprise and cheerfulness to his declaration, he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. He thought, ah, it's nothing, really. Sheâs just being nice, but what a feeling to be heard and to be validated in that moment. It meant everything to him. âYeah, I uh, have a book I write jokes in and everything! Itâs got a lot of personal stuff and stuff from my own life, I think thatâs what makes the best jokesâ He felt himself immediately opening up to her, exposing his soul. Being in her presence made him feel alive. He felt he could be vulnerable with her, and she wouldnât hurt him like everyone else has. He really hoped it was true. As much as he wanted her to see him as he wanted her to see him, he really wanted her to see who him for who he really was and despite all of that, take him into her heart. For her to be just as vulnerable with him as he was with her.
She and him started genuinely talking. She asked him questions about his life. She seemed to want to really know him on a deep and personal level. He could feel the emotion in her voice. When he spoke, she watched so attentively, pausing to let him speak and fully engaging, never breaking eye contact. She was so intimidating, he thought. She sounded so smart when she spoke, and the things she said were so kind and caring. She listened to him, hanging on his every word. He spoke to her about his diagnosis, and she met it with empathy and support. He spoke about how he was adopted and didnât grow up with a father. In turn, she spoke about her parentâs abusing drugs and getting taken away for neglect. He couldnât believe some of the things she confessed to him, baring her soul, unafraid he might abandon her or reject her, a fear he had. She seemed healed, and he admired that of her. To be able to move on from such trauma was hard work, something Arthur had still been trying to manage himself. He thought her a good influence. Her voice soothed the innermost parts of his affection starved mind, re-quenching him as if she were a monsoon and he were a draught. Perfection incarnate, an impossible being. In his eyes, she was a goddess! This woman who accepted him, who felt like home, felt safe, like he could trust her. How could he be so lucky? He thought to himself. To find someone like him, an extension of his own soul. Itâs as if theyâd always known each other. The conversations were effortless and easy. He could listen to her talk all day about anything.
Their conversation continued on for what only seemed like a short time. He was enamored with her, and time stopped ticking in her presence. Their conversations flowed. He genuinely had so much in common with her, he could feel himself constantly smiling through the less serious parts of their conversation. They connected through stories and experiences, goals and ambitions, and their favorite foods and movies. One subject led into the next and so on and so forth. He watched as she spoke so vivaciously, how her chest would rise when taking breaths between sentences and how her necklace lay upon her chest. He imagined her in nothing but the necklace. He watched as the lights would speed outside the subway windows, streaming across her face, lighting up her features, and creating a shadow of her onto himself. Her face, so soft. Her nose, small and cute. He watched how her lips moved across her teeth. She was effervescent. Something just so beautiful and ethereal. She was glowing. Every time she looked in his eyes, he could see light from within, how she sparkled. He watched as she would flip her hair and twirl a single lock between her fingers so sweetly. Her perfume, filling the air every time she moved, it was intoxicating. He found himself inhaling deeply each time it wafted his direction. He would forever associate this smell with her. She would be nostalgia on a bad day for him.
Her laugh stirred within him, swimming in his head and vibrating on his skin. He couldnât believe she laughed at his jokes. He would watch as her eyes closed and her nose crinkled as a raucous laugh roared from her lungs. She was amazing. And she laughed at his jokes! He tried to make her laugh as much as possible because every time she did, she would grab his leg. Sometimes, he did it without trying. That was the best. He could see that she was really a sweet girl, marred by life but full of hope nonetheless. She was angelic, sexy, pure of heart, smart, and touching his leg again. He could hardly think when she did that. He just knew he wanted it more. For her to move her hand up higher, everywhere. All of her, for himself. He wouldnât let the world get to her anymore. His obsession and lust, now so much more complex, he loved her truly. He wasn't sure if he could express that when he wanted her so badly. His mind started wandering. He felt an ache deep within his groin.
She crossed a leg, catching his knee in a long brush. Her upper thigh was warm and inviting. She was gazing into his eyes, wide and innocent, with a coy smile as she spoke. He wanted to touch her back, to feel the warmth of her thigh again for himself. To touch her leg and squeeze, to see her reaction. Could he make her blush? The loud speaker went off, somewhere in the recess of his mind did it register. He was caught in her gaze when she broke eye contact, shooting up in her seat onto her knees next to him. He turned to look and see what she was looking at; it wasn't her stop he could tell that much, but he didnât think either of them had been paying attention this whole time either. They had been so enthralled in one another, conversating and having such a wonderful time getting to know each other, he thought. She turned in her seat, no doubt checking the marquee board behind them.
Arthur went to turn back, but when he did, she had spun right into his face. The feeling of her soft fuzzy sweater swept across his skin, tickling his nose and lips. She smelled so good up close, he thought. Her breasts pressed into either side of his face, and he could feel himself swell. His manhood now throbbing, pressing hard against the seam on his pants. So hard it hurt. He ached for her. He reached up to grab her, afraid the train movements may make her fall, so he held her there. Inhaling deeply and burying his face in her chest, feeling both breasts on his cheeks as he buried himself further into her cleavage, pulling her closer. He wanted to nuzzle himself there forever. She was a safe space for him. He felt closeness in this moment. The heat that came off her body enough to make him perspetrate, perhaps it was the blood rushing through his veins. She made him quite literally hot under the collar. He cherished this moment, not knowing if heâd ever get another. His hand was at the small of her back slowly creeping up. Lacing his fingers under the sweaters fabric and touching her back. He remarked to himself how soft she was, just how incredibly soft she was. He wanted to touch every inch of her body and run his fingers over every curve. She was tantalizing, a taste on the tongue, pure honey. Mmm, and so sweet. Just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone, only mere seconds. He loosened his grip, and she slid back down onto her knees in front of him. Scared of what she would say, what she would do. Would she be upset? He definitely took advantage of that moment, but would she know? And would it offend her. He hoped not, regretting his actions. But in the moment, it felt so right. It was everything he needed.
Arthur couldnât deny the visions that plagued his mind whenever he would day dream, especially with her here now. Looking at her as she kneeled before him admiring her natural beauty, he could feel her breath. She was so close. He couldnât help but also see her how he thought about her when he was alone. How he had imagined her naked and on her knees. When he fantasized about her, he always started off innocent, kissing, heavy petting, and sweet pillow talk. But as he went on, as his cock got stiffer and he approached his end, the thoughts would change. They became more sexual, more deviant. He would Imagine her in the throes of passion tits bouncing as she took advantage of him, grinding him while she screamed his name. But truly, if he could ever even get the chance to touch her intimately, he would treat her like a princess, as he thought she should be. He would make sure to meet her every need and more before he met his own if he could help it.
Her face was flush red. she stammered, breaking eye contact and began apologizing to him profusely. Something he thought so odd, there was nothing she could ever apologize for. She frantically spoke, unease and uncertainty crossed her face. He felt the sudden urge to quell her unease, to show her it was ok. Surely, he did not mind at all. He had surmised her reasoning and accepted it. In fact, he only wished the moment could last forever. âSorry, sor-sorry, I didnât mean to. I mean, I-I completely forgot, I wasnât paying atte-.â Without thought or hesitation, Arthur reached his hands to her. Gently holding her face in his palms and directing her gaze back to his. He wanted to show her it was ok, to stop apologizing. The only way he could think how was to touch her. His mind hadnât gone past that point, only knowing it wanted to put her at ease, to show her kindness like she had for him. She moved with him so easily, he thought, following his lead and every move.
A poutâ look came over her face. Her lips parted; eyebrows raised as she gave him a pleading look. He slowly pulled her closer, tilting her head up, looking into her eyes. She looked back with enlarged pupils. Shallow breaths escaping her lips with labored breathing. Her lips, looking so soft and shiny, a muted blushy pink. He used his thumbs to feel her lips, brushing over them tenderly, wanting to know how soft and plushy they were. In that moment something came over him and he said fuck it. He slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her in closer. She closed her eyes as he neared. Pure joy, he thought. Butterflies rushed within his core, his heart leaping into his throat as he began kissing her. Pressing his lips to hers, inhaling through his nose, unsure of how to proceed but his body naturally took over. He felt every strand of hair that ran through his fingers like silk threads. He wrapped his fingers in it, fully immersing himself in the kiss. She was kissing him back. A thought that quickly surfaced and disappeared, a mere confirmation, his mind reassuring him. But she was kissing him back, and passionately. She tasted so refreshing. He could feel her body relax under his grasp. He felt her warmth as she pressed herself to him, breathing heavily through breathy kisses. He kissed her slowly, passionately, tracing every tooth in her mouth, rubbing every inch of her tongue with his. He was pleasantly surprised when she took the initiative and really got into it. Beginning to remind him of those racier fantasies he had about her as he so needily pleasured himself. He could feel his length twitch within his slacks. She was exploring him with her hands, he felt every touch, every caress across his arms, chest, neck, and head. The feeling lingered, leaving his skin buzzing, electrified under her touch. The power she had over him was remarkable, from the first day he watched her on the subway to this very moment. He was enthralled.
She was panting heavily and moaning between kisses, pressing herself into him with each kiss. He was overwhelmed by her fierceness but happily welcomed it nonetheless. It was literally what he would dream about. Everything he had hoped and wished for about her was coming to fruition. The thoughts, the fantasies. He felt emotional and immediately attached. Of course, he had already decided he would protect her, but that meant something more now. He thought he would die for her, he loved her, and he only felt that love grow with her whether she was in his presence or not. Her teeth clanked against his, and she let out a giggle. The cutest sound he thought. He wanted to explore her as well. Not breaking contact with his lips to hers, he began softly roaming her body. He felt the softness of her sweater as he ran his hand down the front, catching a finger on either side on each breast as he went. He subtly began creeping his fingers just underneath the front of her sweater, feeling how soft her skin was, how hot to the touch. He wanted so badly just to paw helplessly at her breasts. She probably wouldnât have minded, but he still second guessed himself. Even with her right in front of you kissing you, moaning, touching you, youâre still scared! He thought. He was. Truth be told, he had never gone this far with a woman, any woman, ever. No one gave him the time of day, let alone would have considered it. Often, the reason he would resort to creating these loving and fulfilling scenarios in his mind. Always wishing, always hoping, but never knowing it for himself. He only prayed he could be enough. What if she didnât accept him, didnât like his body? All things he was self-conscious of. But he wanted to focus on the now, focus on her, and put those thoughts to rest. Deep down, he knew he would be safe in her presence, accepted, loved. He could feel it. She had so much love to give, just like him.
His hands continued to explore; despite his apprehension, he made his way to her breasts. So squishy, he thought, so bouncy and squeezable. He began to sweat, feeling her nipples harden underneath his touch through the fabric of her bra. His hand, running from the back of her head to her lower back, pulling her into him. He lightly danced his fingers over her skin beneath her sweater, hearing her gasp at his touch. She playfully twirled her fingers in his green locks, tugging ever so gently. He felt her pulling at his collar and sliding her hands over his shoulder under his overcoat. He quickly went to shrug it off, reaching in front with one arm to pull off the other. Hastily tossing it aside. He wanted to leave no inch of her body untouched. He was pawing at her furiously, tugging, groping, mirroring her energy and veracity of the moment. Agents of desire and longing. Slaves to their own lust.
She moved in her seat, putting her knee between his legs as she continued her passionate assault, sending a shiver shooting through his core to his groin. She slowly and carefully nudged her knee right next to his throbbing manhood. He could feel her press against it every time she shifted to kiss, or the train changed its direction. He squeezed his legs together, pressing his swollen length to her leg, holding it there. He could feel the heat emanating from between her legs as she straddled his leg. Rocking ever so slightly back and forth on him. She sucked his tongue, pulling it into her mouth, sealing the kiss with a bite to his lip. It hurt, but only a little, not being inside her hurt more, he thought. His mind was fuzzy. All he could do was pull away and look at her, beg her to help him. His cock throbbing so hard now she must feel it, any more movement and he might burst. He looked at her face, level with his, and smeared with red and white paint. A bit on her nose, a bit on her cheeks, but a large blurred smear covered her lips and chin. She smiled with doe eyes as he let out a gasp that came out like a whisper. She looked longingly into his eyes, a hand caressed his face, tracing the outlined smile from the paint. She fit so perfectly against him, his body, morphed right into hers. Her hand, cradling his face felt like the purest form of love and compassion.
In the intensity of passion, Arthur slid his hands toward her back side as she continued kissing him and straddling him, rocking her hips as she did. He knew she wanted him; her body gave her away. He slowly and lovingly caressed her, moving his hands underneath her skirt and grabbing a hold of each cheek. He squeezed the flesh through his fingers, holding tightly and encouraging her to rock back and forth harder, gently pulling her forward and moving her back. His fingers closed in on her middle, feeling the fabric of her panties. He was unaware he was humming, a low moan building in his throat and falling from his lips. Her arms were wrapped around his neck when she threw her head back in a soft gasp, exposing her neck and collar bones. He began kissing her, not wanting to leave any spot untouched, unloved. Starting from behind her ear and working his way ever so lovingly down her neck, to her shoulders and collar bones back up her neck to her mouth. He saw how she reacted when he would kiss her on the neck and behind her ear, she would shiver, her moans got louder, breathier. He could feel her breasts heave against him with every inhale and exhale.
Not able to take it anymore, he pulled her away with a hand in a fistful of curls. He needed her not just romantically but intimately. The urge he felt well up within him skirted all doubt and worry. Animalistic instincts taking over. âCome onâ he said through a whisper, firm yet encouraging. He wanted to move her to an area where he could have full access to her, all of her. If anything, just to give her more space to straddle him, although he hoped for so much more. He had played this out in his mind so many times in so many different ways. This was just one of them. One where he brings her to the bench seats, lays her down, and makes her cry out his name, however that came to be. Her face was so beautifully distorted by the smearing of his paint. She was a vision, something no artist could re-create.
She followed his lead. Once again, so willingly, so easily, as if she waited for his direction. Even in this moment, after all they had done, it still surprised him. He politely laid his suit coat down on the seats for her. The subway wasn't the most ideal place, pretty dirty surroundings. This was the best way to protect her in this moment. He hoped it was chivalrous. Ideally, he would want her at home in a bed, but anywhere with her was bliss, and he would accept whatever he was given. It was so hard for him to hold back. At this point, he couldnât anymore. He wanted to consume her, infiltrate her soul, absorb her energy. He hungered for her in that moment as she sat upon his jacket looking at him so innocently. The lust he had for her brimming to the surface, unable to contain it.
He stepped forward, pushing himself between her legs, forcing them apart with his as she looked up at him. He stood over her, watching her and admiring her. He reached down, caressing her face and bringing her chin up with the lift of a finger. âYouâre so beautifulâ he leered at her, a sly smile crossing his lips. âSo pretty. And such a good girl!â He meant it. No double meaning there, he loved her, loved that she was canonically good through and through. He chuckled unironically. Her voice broke, a light and soft sound, so comforting. âFor you.â She said through a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear. A good girl for me. For me, he pondered. Two simple words, noting special about them on their own. But spoken together like this, and to him, he felt the weight of those words heavy on his mind. It sent him into an internal craze. All the validation, reassurance, and closeness he had sought, found in a two-word sentence. He thought about the word âbelongingâ and what it had meant to most. Something he never truly had the pleasure of experiencing. The thought solidified an instant bond within him, dredging up emotions he didnât know he had. For him. She was giving herself to him, fully and willingly⌠to him! Realization set in; he had no choice but to give himself to her as well. Not that he would ever choose otherwise. She was unequivocally his, as he was hers, and he would hold on for as long as humanly possible. âFor meâ He parroted back to her with purpose.
He felt her tugging on his pants, toying with the seam and running her fingers along the waistband, her fingers inside, just barely. Her arm brushed his bulge, and he felt it twitch once more. Creating a tent in his pants. She saw. He watched her glance down at him, then back up almost as if she was asking for him to reveal himself. He needed to hear her say it. He needed that confirmation from her. To hear her lips speak the words he had only imagined. âTell me what you want Y/Nâ He spoke calmly and lovingly. He watched as she begged âPleaseâ. He needed her to say it. Say it! She squirmed in her seat. Hastily pulling at his belt, she spoke once more. âPlease, I want to taste you.â He never pictured her saying that. It was more than he could bare, almost bursting at the thought but wanting it just the same. He stepped forward, her face right at his beltline, watching as her eyes darted from his pants and back to his eyes pleadingly. âBe a good girl for me thenâ.
No sooner than the words left his lips was she stripping off his clothes, pulling them down. Moving steadily to undo the buttons on his pants and sliding down his underwear. He groaned as she slid the fabric over his tip. He had been so close for so long that he didnât know how he would be able to hold back. His lust for her leaking from his body, staining his underwear with a wet spot. She did this in such a kind and loving way, so gentle. Her hands were so small wrapped around his cock, barely fitting her fingers around the girth. He watched as her eyes lit up upon first seeing his member. Hoping she would approve. One hand held him firm while the other playfully swirled around his tip playing with the mess he had made for her. Teasing his tip and rubbing his precum everywhere. She began licking him, up and down the side of his length, swirling her tongue around the tip. Her hands tight around his length, he could feel himself throbbing in her grip. He hissed through gritted teeth at the feeling. She seemed to revel in his reactions to her touch.
Her eyes peeked over a smile he could barely see as she opened her mouth and placed it upon him, taking him into her throat, forcing him into her. Her mouth was so small, she could barely fit his head in. Her throat, so small and tight, he could feel her slightly gag as he entered. Her esophagus, squeezing him, he didnât know how much more he could take. She got into a rhythm, and he couldnât help but rock his hips to meet her mouth. Gripping the back of her head with one hand guiding her in a forceful motion and lovingly massaging her neck and shoulder with the other. Shoving him as far into her throat as she could handle. Every time he reached the base, he let out a soft grunt. Her teeth would scrap ever so lightly against his bulbous head, every time hitting his most sensitive areas. It made him shiver and convulse. The sounds they made filled the cabin. Sucking, slurping , and his quiet hushed moans. She felt so good, her mouth so wet and warm and accommodating, he mused. Her eyes watched him as she gulped him down with ease. She narrowed her eyes in a smile that looked devious. He pushed in even harder, letting out a long sigh. Her hands rubbed his abdomen, chest, thighs, and buttocks as she pulled him into her. For him. He could feel the suction in her throat. Every time her mouth left his tip, it did so with a pop! She slurped him up, slobbering furiously and cleaning up her mess. Licking up and down his shaft as she looked him in his eyes. Lightly, she would rub and gently squeeze his balls. So many sensations running through his body he had never felt. She was so confident; he found himself lost in her.
He grabs her face once more, interrupting her, not wanting it to happen so quickly, but he felt close. It was his turn to taste her. He couldnât wait, salivating at the thought. He stood her up with one finger under her chin. Such a doll, going along with his every motion without question or hesitation. He again kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. Groaning, his manhood throbbing, jutting into her abdomen. He wanted to see her, not just touch her, and taste her. He slid his hands under her sweater and lifts it off of her, placing it carefully on the bench next to her, making sure to be respectful of her things. He then returns to the kiss, pressing his lips to hers hard, breathing in through his nose hastily.
âLay downâ. He says while gesturing his hand towards his overcoat that lay crinkled on the bench seats behind her. She carefully laid on the seat, legs outstretched in front of her, propped up on her elbows. He felt her hungry gaze on him as he moved to the edge on the seat where her feet dangled freely. He stood between them reaching for her to pull her closer, he grabbed her legs and pulled her to the edge. He noted how she slid with ease on the velvet lining of his overcoat she sat upon. She was irresistible, laid out in front of him like that. He felt weak in the knees at the sight of her near naked torso, how the subway lights danced across her body, how her ample breasts shook with every jerk of the train, and how she looked at him. A burning hunger in her eyes, a desire for him. He didnât want this moment to end, any of it. But he couldnât keep his hands off of her. He didnât want to. He smoothly moved his hands under her skirt, gripping her panties. She eagerly lifted her legs for him, helping him slide them off her smooth skin. Knowing how badly she wanted him too, seeing it in her actions only made him love her more. Her panties were silky and white with lace trim. A small pink bow adorned the lace in the middle. They were damp. He wanted to put them to his nose and breathe in deeply, to smell her, how wet he had made her. But he held back and placed them next to her.
He just wanted to be close to her, have her body and her face pressed against his. He leaned down between her knees to meet her with another kiss. He treated her so tenderly, he needed to. The fact she was exposing her whole self so intimately to him, how ready she was to give herself to him. He felt he not only needed, but wanted her to feel comfortable. When he got down to it, he didnât want to hurt her. He wanted to satisfy her immensely. Nothing would bring him more joy. So, on he went, kissing her so softly and tenderly, slowly rolling his tongue in her mouth, savoring every second of the kiss. She moaned under him as he used his hand to slide down under her skirt. Feeling the heat rise from her groin. He could feel his fingers slide between her lips so smoothly, leading him right to her entrance where he stopped. Her body, trying to meet his hand, her hips trying to grind into him. The feeling of her wetness on his fingers, sticky, warm, divine. He felt the heat rise in his body, his heart racing, blood rushing, and mind spinning. He needed air and started loosening his collar, unbuttoning buttons, and removing his vest, carelessly tossing it on the seat behind her head before returning to the kiss.
Her hands were under his shirt rubbing his chest, softly stroking his skin. With his hand sliding up and down her wet slit, he slowly pushes his middle finger in, watching her reaction. Just glorious. Her face contorting in the most beautiful way. Moaning in his ear so delicately. He loved to watch how she moved around his finger, almost begging for more. Her whole body slowly grinded as if by nature. He moved his finger gently in and out, gathering her juices, then slid another one in, his ring finger. Slowly, he pushed them in and out, hearing her moan in ecstasy. He took his other hand and pulled her bra down to expose her breasts; he wanted to watch them bounce as he fucked her with his hand. He wanted to see them fully, her nipples peeked over the tops of the cups and he leaned in to tease them, to feel them in his mouth. How hard they were yet pliable enough to suck. His hand went faster, using his thumb to tickle her clit while he worked. He watched how her moans would change if he did something different. The louder and more out of breath she was, he knew she liked what he was doing. He studied her, not wanting to disappoint. Learning her bodies every twist and turn. What she liked, what she didnât care for. He focused on her pure gratification. Seeing her lose herself in the pleasure he provided, gave him pleasure of his own. It was rewarding for him. A prize to make her so breathless and sweaty. She was so beautiful like this.
He descended from her breasts, fingers still inside her. Rubbing her legs as he went, tenderly caressing and kissing every scar, every fold. She was perfect. He got down on his knees, making sure to steady himself against the seats and gripped her things in front of his face. Everything, right before his eyes, he lustfully watched as his fingers slid in and out of her. How her wetness glistened on his fingers. He took them out, putting them in his mouth and licked off the fluid, cleaning every last drop off his fingers before disappearing underneath her skirt. She tasted so sweet, like biting into a ripe juicy peach. He licked his lips, savoring her essence like a drug. He worked his fingers inside her once more. He could feel her squeeze him from within. Writhing against his force. He could smell her essence, sweet and mouthwatering. He went in to taste. Licking his tongue slowly up from where his fingers penetrated her, taking his time. He sucked her lips and licked her clit, sucking on it softly. Moans and gasps erupted from her mouth. He could feel her arch her back pushing her pelvis into his face. Suddenly he felt her hands in his hair, gripping and pulling him in closer. It made him want to do it harder, better! For her, to make her feel good. He only wished he could make her feel as good as she made him feel. It seemed an impossible feat. But he was fully dedicated to her pleasure, not thinking about anyone or anything else in this moment. Not where they are, not where they're going. Nothing but bringing her happiness. He continued playfully sucking her clit, flicking it with his tongue. It made her grip his hair tighter, pull him closer. âFuuuckâ she moaned pulling him in harder. His face buried in her core, he couldnât breathe for a few seconds, no consolation at all. His nose was buried in her mound and his mouth was sucking her clit while his hands continued their job.
The bell chimes and doors opening hadnât stopped them for a while now, neither seeming to care. But Arthurs attention was quickly returned to reality when he heard the distant chatter of loud voices. He suddenly ceased his actions, standing up and holding her down. He hadnât considered what would, or could happen if they were caught. This was not good. Arthur held still, not drawing attention and watching as they neared. Approaching their train car, his stomach dropped, and time stood still for a moment. A voice rang in his ears âNo, pleaseâ she begged in a broken moan underneath him, trying to pull him back down to her. He whispered to her with a single finger in front of his lips "shhh", looking in her eyes, hoping neither of them pulled attention to themselves with the way he was making her moan so loudly just moments ago. Her body seized movement underneath him, realizing the weight of the situation, and held steadfast. He watched as her eyes followed the sounds as they passed. A group of drunk guys who walked past the subway windows without ever looking over. They passed in a hurry, leaving the platform before the doors closed and the train moved once more.
His attention was immediately back to her. The way she held herself for him, quietly anticipating his direction. How undeniably taken with her he was. Once the train began its descent once more, Arthurs hands began sliding up her abdomen, settling on her ample breasts. The warmth in his hands as he continued massaging and lightly caressing made him spasm. He leaned in, enveloping her in another kiss. She deserved it. She deserved everything. She leaned up, meeting his lips with the pressure of her own, pulling him in. Their tongues rolling over one another, tasting each other deeply. He so lovingly cupped her face within his giving hands, feeling her jaw move under his grip as they connected kissing.
He pulled her close to the edge once more underneath him, parting her knees while kissing her lovingly. He felt her hand travel down and grip him. His manhood, dripping with anticipation but awaiting readiness. He felt ready, about to burst at every touch she shared with him. As long as she wanted it, he'd give it to her. Just then, as if reading his mind, she gripped him tighter, stroking him slowly. He could feel her fingers rub along the length of his shaft, stopping just before the tip. He started breathing sparsely and in huffs, the anticipation of the moment building inside of him as she pulled him to her most vulnerable area.
He pulled back, having to examine her face. She really wanted this? With him? Of course, things have led them this far, but this. This was different, with a deeper level of intimacy, fully sharing your body with someone, leading to this ultimate act. He was scared in a way, still so ready, still so full of lust and want. Yet, it made him emotional on some level. For her to allow him to connect with her like this. To be so open, so vulnerable with him. He wanted reassurance that this was ok, that she wanted it too. Her cute little voice beckoned to him. âPleaseâ her face curled into a look he could only compare to puppy dog eyes. Lips pouting, eyes seeking. Hearing her ask, of course he wanted reassurance, but hearing her ask? It was almost too much. He wished he could only read her mind; she would never have to ask anything of him. He nodded, sliding his length up and down her slit before he pushed forward, helping her guide him in. Her body, so warm, wet, and soft, it's all he could think about.
He pulled her as close to the edge against him as he could, sliding so easily on his coat. He then steadied himself, putting one hand on her abdomen as he slowly pushed himself into her opening. He felt her walls close around him as he slowly pushed further in. She cried out as he filled her. Her warmness surrounded his length and tightened around him. She would clench and let go as he entered, causing little grunts to spill from his lips as he adjusted to her, filling her completely. Being inside her was unlike anything he could imagine. It was like being given a bear hug. Being squeezed tightly in a warm hug but so much more satisfying in the way it made him feel. The weight of the world left his shoulders for a brief time while he was inside her. It was as if she could protect him in this way. When he was inside her, he felt comfort and ease. His mind, no longer plagued by doubt or heavy thoughts. An amazing thing, he wondered how that could be. But he focused more on the feeling, how good she felt squirming underneath him, how tight she was as he entered her, how her moans filled the air, moans he created.
He began thrusting in and out, slowly and gently, as she pulled him to her, face to face. He was sensitive, and every movement she made nearly took him to his end. He wanted so badly to please her. He pressed in further, pushing in until he no longer could, a low moan brewing in his throat, sounding like a growl building. He couldnât help how his body reacted, only followed along with what felt good and continued, watching for what he could tell she liked as well. Tuning himself into her. She eagerly began bucking her hips into him. Meeting his every thrust with her own in unison, staring greedily into his eyes. As much as he wanted to meet her energy, he didnât want to hurt her. He could feel her grip him from within, how tight she was, how she would close up around him as he moved in and out of her. He was careful not to abuse her delicate flower she had so trustingly gifted him with. Every thrust of his was met with a gasp or moan from her. She would scream out his name yelling âyes, fuck, yesâ, âArthur please fuck me! pleaseâ, âplease donât stop, fuckâ and âharder Arthur!â She was so demanding of him, so fucking sexy he thought. Truly enjoying herself around his cock. Throwing her head back, arching her hips.
He straightened, grabbing her legs and laying them on either shoulder, leaning in for a quick peck and burying himself even deeper into her cunt as he leaned into her. He reached his hand around the front of her legs, sliding his fingers through them and resting them on her clit. He playfully rubbed her bud. Slowly moving in circles around it. She liked this, the way her eyes rolled back and her body shook, he could feel she was close too. He felt himself groaning with every thrust. Light, almost inaudible gasps, emboldened by her. She was so freely moaning, so loudly, not a care. Just fully enveloping herself in him. The louder she moaned, the harder he thrusted with muted moans of his own. He wanted to hear more; how loud could he make her? Her body rocking and shaking under his. He watched her face as she moaned and panted for him. An Image he wanted cemented in his mind. He would hold onto it forever. He continued fucking her, each time with a harder thrust, each time a little bit faster.
He watched as her face looked on hazily. How she looked him in his eyes as he filled her to his base. He could feel her wetness build up around him, sliding in and out of her made easy. His own orgasm building up, every push into her becoming more sensitive, a feeling, expanding inside him. âAr-Arthâ she stammered in a hushed, breathy manner. âFuck, I-Iâm gonna cum!â She exasperatingly cried out breathing heavily. She pawed at him, dropping her legs and wrapping them around his waist. He felt wanted and loved in this moment as she wanted him closer, he was inside her and still she pulled him in, wanting more. He did too.
He wanted to kiss her again. Her face aglow from the subway lights and perspiration. A few strands of hair sticking to her glistening forehead. She was panting heavily; he smiled as he watched her face contort while she approached the precipice of her climax. A look of bliss in her complexion. It looked freeing. Her eyebrows raised, meeting in the middle, she arched her back and gritted her teeth. Once again, looking at him as she rode the high of her climax. Meeting him with a half kiss, a valiant attempt but she was fuck drunk and completely at the will of her orgasm.
He felt a confident and prideful smile cross his lips. He had done this; she was like this for him, because of him. Somehow, he was able to elicit this reaction out of this angel of a being. He was proud. He could feel her walls clench tightly around his length with every wave that surged through her body. Every contraction met with involuntary convulsions. He felt himself getting closer. Her vaginal spasms gripping him within, causing him to swell and throb. Watching her completely let go, feeling her fully succumb to him, he was ready. Making her the first priority worked, he thought. He didnât cum first, something he had worried about the entire time they were intimate, and even before.
Her hands still touching him as he slowly moved back and forth within her, not sure what to do next. âDonât stopâ she touched his face softly with a sleepy smile on her lips. He felt so close himself, unsure how much longer he could last with her clenching around him still. He began thrusting harder and faster once more, doing what felt good to him. Sliding his length almost all the way out each time and meeting her with a hard thrust. His hips bucked almost on their own, taken over by pure instinct. He felt so close. A feeling building inside him like a balloon being blown bigger and bigger until it popped. He focused on his movements, focused on the feeling as she cried out, encouraging him. Every moan that escaped her lips only made him fuck her more ferociously, unable to keep pace or rythm. Her eyes looking at him as he slammed into her, so innocently just staring at him. Catching her gaze and holding it. Grunting as he slammed into her.
A low guttural groan filled the cabin. He felt himself tip over the edge and explode within her. His cock spasmed and pulsated with every squirt of his essence he poured into her, his body shaking with every wave of pleasure. She held him tightly to her as he came. Legs wrapped around him, holding him there. He felt his hot seed fill her as his pace slowed, still fucking her as his seed leaked out. His sensitivity grew and he became unable to move, rendered helpless. The train car took on a hazy glow and his ears rang as rapture filled his every sense, this was heaven, or the closest to it he had ever been. A feeling of none other than complete satisfaction and contentment filled his psyche.
He breathed a deep sigh as he continued twitching inside of her, the feeling slowly subsiding. He gently fell into her, cradling his face in the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume and sweat, invigorating his senses. He remained there for as long as possible, not letting the outside world in, just basking in the connection he had found. Reveling in the romantic and intimate act they had both shared. He replayed those moments in his mind, giddy at the thought. He smiled against her and breathed with content. A sigh of gratitude. She held him tightly, caressing his curls atop his head, twirling a lock in her fingers playfully with an adoring smile. She stroked his back and shoulders ever so lightly, a charge of electricity trailing each fingertip. He lay on top of her, his cock still warm inside her, a place he never wanted to leave. A bell chimed in the distance and he looked at her with longing eyes, knowing they would have to get dressed soon, as the last stop approached. He remained there, soaking up every last bit of time he could spend with her. She was the one in his soul, reflecting his inner light. His serenity. The sun on a dark day. How lucky am I to have someone like her? He thought. For him⌠the words echoed in his mind. He smiled, buried in her still, savoring every moment.
Summary: Homelander spots you assisting first responders helping those less fortunate in a building fire. People he wouldnât normally bother helping or even caring about. Itâs just his job and a mundane and boring one at that. But you caught his eye. You selflessly cared for them, helping them. It disgusts him. HE needs your help! It makes him want to make you dirty, to spoil your spirit, to make you like him, and what the Homelander wants, he takes.
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, gaslighting, coercion, DUBCON, praise, begging, mentions of violence, stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, mentions of death (implied), blood play, choking, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, dacryphilia, mommy issues (brief mention)⌠Itâs homelanderâŚÂ
A/N: My head Is so full of fuck! I had to get a Homelander fic out in the midst of all these fics Iâm grinding on! This man, being of pure perfection, got me in a damn chokehold!! Why do we always tend to go for the guys that are walking red flags? Like, I can fix him! On a more serious note, these characters are all endearing in their own way. Trauma can manifest into some pretty terrible things, and I think we can all relate to that in some way or another. I tried to keep it short... that did not happen you know how it goes. Please, I hope yâall enjoy this one! And as always, I welcome, ideas, comments and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers!Â
Word Count:Â 6.3k
Tags: fem!reader, smut, dark contentÂ
RUN RABBITÂ
He watched as you helped those around you. He had been for a while now, just out of view of the bustling crowds beginning to form and watch the commotion. He watched as you gave aid to those less fortunate. The vulnerable people you had pledged to help so long ago. It was your job and came naturally to you. He watched as the building continued to burn growing fiercer with each moment that passed. Fire reflected in his eyes with a look of discernment, perhaps even disgust, but all he could seem to focus on was you. He watched as you gave people solace and respite, watched as your hair clung to the sweat on your face from the heat of the flames, how your ample chest rose and fell as you breathed shakily, helping the local paramedics and EMTâs. You gathered supplies and handed out bottled water to those affected. A fire had broken out at the shelter. It was an old building, probably not up to date on fire regulations and things of that nature. It housed approximately 80 people that evening. You rushed about frantically helping in any way you could. A bleeding heart, he thought. Â
He felt a mixture of abhorrence and lust. Something about the way you cared for those he considered beneath him. He couldnât understand, his distaste for humanity growing every day. Yet, something about the way you cared for them, in a loving, and motherly way, so perfect. It stirred his loins and a deep longing simmered within him, a feeling he was quick to extinguish. He often had these troubled thoughts paired with erections. It was nothing new. Trauma manifesting into sexual desires as a coping mechanism. He hastily grabbed at his crotch, shifting his bulge within his suit. Â
He was above it all anyway. Humans merely play things for him, entertainment. Like a fox chasing a rabbit, you became his prey. He would make you his new toy and break you. He wanted to make you dirty, to make you like him. He wanted to ruin you. He had to be methodical about this, but still, it would be easy, he thought. Conquests were never a challenge for him. He was handsome, had charm, and could put on a âfriendlyâ demeanor if he needed to. Plus, he was a supe. If he couldnât get a woman with his A lister status alone, he could simply force her to be with him. He would do what was necessary. He preferred little to no effort, but he couldnât lie to himself. Sometimes, he liked the chase. Both literally and figuratively. He was like a predator. Cold, calculated. Run little rabbit, heâd think to himself. Seeing lesser beings and their pathetic attempts to escape him was his favorite kind of entertainment and maybe even gave him the feeling of joy. If only for a short time. He often found himself bored, tired of the mundane. Meetings at Vought HQ, Ashley up his ass, savingâŚ. People. His disgust caused a visceral reaction. Tonight, he would find entertainment to chase that elusive high. Â
He flew over, hovering then lowering himself as he outstretched his arms, palms down as if to quell the crowdâs murmurs and bestow peace. A façade, he couldnât care less. He had ulterior motives. âDonât worry, everyone, everythingâs under controlâ he spoke. Sure, he initially showed up to do what The Homelander does⌠be a hero. But you caught his eye, something more interesting and surer to be more giving than the appreciation of his adoring fans and the thrill of an applauding crowd. He wanted the pleasure of seeing you beg for him. Soon. He thinks to himself with a mischievous look crossing his lips. He is staring at you as he lands. You thought he looked your way but couldn't be sure. He began that repetitive, mundane, and ever so grueling process of saving these pathetic souls. He darts in and out of the building, grabbing them one by one at a crawling pace âfor himâ. Everyone in the crowds cheered on as you watched this man help people. Â
It was no unordinary feat truly. Supes were common, and Homelander was the most well-known. The leader of the seven, Americas hero. Nevertheless, you watched on as he effortlessly helped people get out safely. You caught yourself admiring his physique, he was essentially perfect. No wonder, you thought. Itâs as if he was made to be perfect. His charismatic smile, striking blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and athletic build. You found yourself breathing heavier, face flushed, racy thoughts manifesting. You were still in that moment, watching how his suit would singe from the flames that brushed and flicked against him. Embers flew from the fabric and fizzled out, skin remaining untouched but revealed underneath. The glint of the gold eagle shoulder accents on his suit shined in the light of the raging fames that burst through every opening of the building, returning once more. Â
The building erupted in what must have been a gas line explosion you thought. Homelander walked out through the flames with the last individual hurled over his shoulders. He sauntered over to your direction where you stood with a few EMTs who were supporting victims in a pop-up tent. Next to you, a bare stretcher. Homelander stopped next to you and dropped the smoking body onto the stretcher, eyes locking with yours as he did. He could hear your heartbeat quicken and your breathing go shallow. You were unsure if it was fear or excitement in this moment, he scared you in a way. You couldn't tell if he was disingenuous. Too many things were happening all at once, it was a state of high emotion and your head was spinning. You felt like you were helpless and had no control. He did though. He behaved as if this was nothing to him, as if he could do this one hundred times over. Of course he could, yet you could sense the arrogance behind his charismatic demeanor.Â
You manage to speak in his presence. Something you had tried to do for several unending moments now under his gaze. âThank youâ you manage to mumble in a timid manner. You found it hard to maintain eye contact with him. He was so sure, so confident, and so⌠beautiful. You had never had the opportunity to be in the presence of a supe, let alone meet one. You had only seen them on TV, in the news, or in movies. Simmering in what you thought to be embarrassment or intimidation, you hastily make you way out of the tent, brushing by him as you passed. He watched over his shoulder as you disappeared behind him, feeling the warmth from you as you passed. He inhaled deeply as you walked away. You were so flustered but didnât know why⌠You knew why, truly you did. It just didnât make sense. You didnât want it to make sense. You felt attraction to him, and you felt guilty for it for whatever reason. For many reasons. But mainly, you felt bad that in this moment, you felt lust and your attention drawn away from the people that needed your help the most.Â
You made it behind the tent and had begun fidgeting with a worry stone you kept in your pocket. Rubbing it furiously when you hear the wet splat of steps behind you. You look down, the grounds wet; the fire fighters must be here, you think. A firm hand grabs your shoulder and spins you around. He looks at you matter of factly with a smirk. âYou know, I wanted to tell you back there, thank you, for the work you do and for helping these fine peopleâ he said, hand still on your shoulder. His eyes beaming into yours a deep sapphire. âI also wanted to let you know that there were some folks over there that could really use your help! That is, if you still want to help people.â He watched as shame crossed your face, then guilt and confusion. Easy, he thought. Theyâre so fucking easy! His smile, perfect white teeth gleaming at you. You recoil at his words, struck by how kind he sounded with the contrast of his delivery. You felt immediately inclined to help, like you didnât have a choice but to prove it to yourself, and to him, for whatever reason.Â
You nod your head in agreement, convinced by him you needed to. You feel a weight take over your entire body, pulling you down. Before you realize you were being flown away from the scene. The Homelander had picked you up and shot towards the sky. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you against his body. Terror filled you, but you were too high up to scream, the force of wind hindering your speech and breathing as it forcefully blew past your face. What did you agree to? You think. Where is he taking me? As quickly as the thoughts came to fruition, you were on your feet once more. He was looking down at you, still clinging tightly to your lower back. His face is indifferent and uncaring, almost empty. The suit he wore felt ridged where flames made contact. Soft in some places where the fabric was still intact and cool, where his skin peeked through. Your arms still grasped his biceps until you became aware you were doing so and let go. You wondered how he felt under the suit. Heâs invincible, is his skin like that of a rock, or is he soft and pliable. He caught you gazing at the areas where his suit had melted away. He watched as you admired him. He knew the thoughts running through your head. He could see them cross your face. He was amused. That mixture of lust, exhilaration, and fear. He craved that from you, and you were abundantly insatiable.Â
âJust through there.â He gestured kindly toward a door as he let go of your waist. You took a second to observe your surroundings, still fearful of what exactly you were doing and where the hell you were. For an educated girl, you felt like this was a really stupid decision. You were standing on a white tiled balcony about fifty, maybe sixty stories up. The city sprawled out before you. You could see city lights and in the distance a plume of smoke sure to be the fire you just came from. You remarked at how far away you were. Looking towards the door you saw white curtains billowing through the opening leading into a dark room. âThis wayâ he gestures once more. His hand at the small of your back pushing you towards the entrance.Â
You step inside, looking for someone, anyone. A large room with a couple connecting hall ways it looked like. Seems to be an apartment. A very nice one. You begin searching the room familiarizing yourself with it, itâs pretty dark except for the light of a modular fire place that hung from the ceiling. Thereâs a four-post bed with sheer white curtains, lace pillows, and a velvet duvet. Some accents, art, and statues, it looked very high class, very luxurious. Who did it belong to? You thought. It didn't matter though.Â
Homelander had stepped behind you watching you roam the apartment you were now essentially trapped in. He stood behind you, shedding off pieces of his torched suit, exposing himself completely. He playfully tugged at his cock, already hard. Pulling it to his abdomen and letting it slap down onto his leg in a spring like motion. SLAP! He was hard watching you at the building fire, the intensity only grew. Especially when he held you close. He watched you search the room, calling out to no one. He snickered to himself. How much is she really willing to help hmm? He thought about you begging for him, praying he would let you come, but only after he tore you to shreds and broke you down mentally. He needed you to crave him, needed you to need him. Appreciate him, respect him, and most of all, obey him! Look at her, stupid enough to go along with this, sheâs so sweet. It sickened him and only made his fervent lust grow.Â
The realization finally began to hit, and a pit dropped in your stomach. There was no one here to help. In a way, you already knew but held onto some kind of hope, albeit for nothing. You began to spiral in your mind when a loud slap could be heard behind you. You spin around quickly on your heels, already on edge when your eyes are drawn to Homelander. The doors had closed behind him, and there he stood, completely nude in front of you. You stood with your mouth agape when he said âsorry, my suit was burned, practically tarnished, I had to take it off.â He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled with a sly smile. Hs eyes narrowed as he grabbed his cock and pulled it up once more to his abdomen and let it slap down onto his leg. SLAP! He was throbbing, watching your reaction to him so boldly lying to your face and exposing himself to you, jacking off in front of you with zero consequences. He knew he could do anything he wanted- get anything he wanted, and anyone would give it to him, even you. Whether you liked it or not.Â
You recoiled in disgust and shock, eyes wide with fear. Although earlier you had thought about him like this maybe even slightly, not like this! âWhere are they?!â you tried to say in a tone that was stern yet confident enough to not show fear. He could hear the fear in your voice, the pulse that raced through your veins that told everything in your mind and body to run away. âWho?â he replied teasingly. SLAP! âThe people! The people you said needed help!â you shot back, starting to lose your cool. Heat rose to your cheeks and you felt hot, dizzy and angry. The light of the fireplace danced gently over his features illuminating him in an amber glow. Every muscle, every shape and curve on his body, shrouded in firelight. Â
He stepped forward, walking briskly towards you. You stammered back, glancing behind you, looking for a place to run but hitting a wall. You tried to look for an exit, but the room was dimly lit, and it was too late. He was already right in front of you. You leaned against the wall and clasped your hands behind your back as he pressed his hand against the wall next to your head, the other hand holding his throbbing length⌠SLAP! Â
âItâs me!â he said in a curt tone, almost annoyed you didnât know. His eyes traveled, looking you up then down. âI need your help!â he stated. You turned your head sideways as he leaned in, whispering in your ear âMy suit was burned, I could have been hurt saving those people, donât you care?â A brief flicker of red lit up behind each eye, and you felt yourself shrink in his presence. You were scared, unsure of yourself. Heâs invincible, you thought. Your head spun; you didnât understand the weight of the situation. Except that he lied to you to get you here. He grabbed your chin with his free hand and turned your face to his, looking at you behind a furrowed brow. âDonât you care about me?!â SLAP! His face scrunched, examining your reaction, waiting for a reply. âY-Yes.. I care about you.â You chimed apprehensively and unconvincingly. He doesn't even know your name, you thought. He doesn't care.Â
He let go of your chin. âShow meâ he demanded behind a mischievous smile that curled at the ends of his lips. He placed his hands on your shoulders gripping the fabric of your shirt underneath and ripping it off, pulling it apart, you heard the buttons pop off and hit the floor with a ting as it ripped down the center. Your heart leapt into your throat as he devours you with his eyes, reeling in the sight of your ample breasts and the soft fleshy skin beneath your bra. He was all but salivating for you. He wanted to rip your bra off and nuzzle himself between your breasts, to inhale the skin, to feel their warmth. But he wanted you to prove yourself. Did you really care about him? Were you really a good girl?Â
At this point, you realize what he brought you here for. But why you? He was a supe. He could literally kill you without a thought, and he would be protected. Your mind was hazy, but you couldnât stop your own eyes from wandering. He was, in all his glory, vulnerable and bearing himself to you. Part of you thought it irresistable, intimate even. His body against yours felt like fire, and your senses began to tingle and go haywire. SLAP! You found yourself at the will of your hormones as your thoughts and body took over. He pushed his body closer, his hard length now pushing into your abdomen with force. A gasp fell from your lips as he looked into your eyes, a deep blue sea of burning blue ice. Entranced by his physique. Another whisper, more stern this time âI said, show me!â Â
He stepped back, and you dropped to your knees in front of him. His hand on top of your head caressed the side of your face and slid to the underside of your chin, forcing you to look up at him, he gave a cursory look, eyebrows raised as if to say âIâm waitingâ. Not wanting to disappoint him or make him angry, you quickly raise your hands up and rest them on his thighs. Feeling the softness of his skin. Leaning in, you open your mouth and take him in. His hands were immediately in your hair, pulling you in closer. Sticking out your tongue and forcing his length down the back of your throat. Tears begin to stream down your face. He put a finger to your face, catching a tear as it fell and pressing it to his tongue. His throbbing cock twitched in your throat. It was substantially thick and unreasonably big, the force stretching your throat was enough to make you cry. Â
He threw his head back, letting out a low groan. Your mouth is so warm, so wet, and so tight. He imagined stretching your pussy, pounding you into oblivion until you either cried and begged for him to stop or climaxed and cried for more. You continued sucking, taking him in as deep as you could each time, hoping to please him and show him you were truly a good person. That you did care about him, you cared about everyone truly...but especially him. He created a feeling in you- you had not had previously, a desire for him. You used your hands to explore his body as you gulped him down, mesmerized by him. Caressing his abdomen, his buttocks and his balls. He had his hands twisted in your hair, rocking with the motion of your mouth. Every once in a while, taking your time to gently circle his tip with your tongue while sucking, ending in a kiss to his tip. Each time your lips pulled from him, a trail of precum would string from your lips. Â
You looked up at him, licking your lips clean. âMmm, thatâs a good girl. Show me more.â He growled through his passion as he pulled you to your feet and directed you to get on the bed. He smacked your ass with force as you walked, it rang out with a snap, even against the fabric, it stung. You lurched forward falling into the bed face first. He quickly stood behind you spreading you knees apart on the bed with his legs as he approached. He began tearing your remaining clothes from you in shreds laughing. You felt defeated and ashamed, but you wanted more. Embarrassment filled your face with heat, a bright red hue colored your nose and cheeks. Â
Your bra, snapped and torn. Your jeans, off, split in two, your underwear, lacy and white, torn from between your legs. You whimpered as they dug in while being ripped off of your body. Quick and painful. Grabbing your hips, he pulled you closer to the end of the bed where he stood. A cold breeze drifted across your back, buttocks, and exposed legs. He had you right where he wanted you. He liked it when you squirmed, when you whimpered. You thought perhaps you liked it as well. You found yourself helpless, at his mercy, and obeying his every command. Â
He smacked you again and again. The sound of your flesh being abused rang out into the empty room, bellowing out and echoing back to you. Your skin again burning from the impact of his open hands leaving red hand prints sprinkled over your flesh. He joyfully continued. His face in a half smirk with eyes narrowed as he reveled in every cry that escaped your mouth. Your skin, now mottled with bruises and scratches. Smack! Again, he slaps your ass and drags his fingers down. Pinching you, squeezing hard, and watching you recoil, helpless to get away. You could feel the wetness spread between your legs. âWhoâs my good girl, huh?â he said confidently in a gruff. âI aamâ you cried out in a huff, face buried in the blankets. He placed both palms on your cheeks and placed his thumbs close to your crevice, pulling with his thumbs and exposing your most intimate parts to him. The brisk air on the wetness of your cunt sent a shiver up your back and goosebumps peppered your skin. Homelander took notice and began smoothing his hands over the surface of your legs and back as you lay before him, relishing in the work heâs created. An artwork of purple and red now enhanced by the prickling of your skin.Â
What a sweet little cunt, he thought to himself. He then pushed against the surface of your opening with a single finger, taunting you, teasing you in a cruel way. You rocked your hips back toward him but couldnât move, not unless he decided to let you. âwhatâs wrong bleeding heart? Not so sweet now, are you?â You whined as he toyed with you. Slowly drawing circles around your labia, clit, and opening, spreading your wetness around his fingers and your vulva. âPlease, Homelander, please!â you begged him, a muffled plea distorted from the blankets below. You turn your head to look back at him, the only thing you could manage to move. You watched as he brought his face down, placing his tongue along your slit, flat, wide, and slowly licking up towards your entrance. You couldnât take it anymore; he was teasing you and you were putty in his unforgiving hands. You melted into his touch. Pure bliss and euphoria filled your body as your mind released a load of dopamine to your receptors. Telling you, you wanted him, no- you needed him. Now!Â
Slowly, he pushed two fingers in. The sheets below you, clutched within your hands as you lay on top of them. His hand held tightly, gripping your left cheek, holding you open as he explored, pushing in harder and deeper as he went. He could manage his strength sure, but he wanted so badly to fuck you into the bed, and you wanted to feel just a fraction of his strength, you thought you could handle it. In his mind he knew you couldn't. You, a delicate little thing. A rabbit he had caught. But just the same he held back, he needed time to play, to be entertained.Â
The room filled with the aches and moans coming from your mouth as he pulled his fingers in and out of you, licking up and down your slit, and fucking you with his tongue. You wanted to move, but he had a hold of you. But you wanted to see his face, to watch him as he pleasured you so lovingly, a stark contrast to how you got here. They way his tongue traveled so freely between your folds and into your core, both tender and firm. There was no escape. You didn't want him to stop, your walls quivered around his fingers.Â
He stopped, his fingers sopping, his face covered in your fluid. You feel his arm reach under you and pull you, turning you around. You lay before him on your elbows, knees bent. He pulls your forward, his face stern, as he gazed at your chest. He kneels in front of you and without words opens his mouth and laps at your breast flesh with his tongue. Sucking, licking, biting, lightly flicking your nipple with his tongue. A low hum building in the back of his throat. Your juices now smeared all over your chest as he paws and devours your breasts. You moan in ecstasy, a high-pitched squeal that reverberated in the room. You could feel his lips curl into a smile around your areola as he consumed all of you. Inhaling you in deeply. Â
Your hand roamed his body, such a powerful being, and you had the pleasure of taming him. Your hands, rubbing along the muscles on his back, your fingers tracing the veins sticking out on his arms as he cradled your chest. In this moment, you weren't scared of him. You knew his power that he could kill you with his dick if he wanted to. But in this moment, he was vulnerable, weak even. He was the most human right now with you than he had felt in a while. Something about a woman with ample breasts opening up for him, opening everything up for him, filled him with a sense of true belonging. The elusive high he was truly trying to chase but always evaded him so eagerly. It was true compassion, isn't that why he chose you? You, specifically. Not just a beautiful woman, a beautiful woman with a pure heart. Â
"Youâre being such a good girl," he moaned into your chest. You move your hands from his shoulders to his face, pulling him up. He looks up at you. You observe an innocent, unassuming look in his eyes. He follows where you guide him. Your lips push against his in a heavy kiss. He pushes your shoulders down and pins you to the bed, enveloping you in his own passionate kiss. He swirls his tongue in your mouth and bites your bottom lip hard. You could taste the tinge of blood, like pennies in your mouth. Blood pooled at the corner or your mouth. With a flick of his thumb, he wiped it away and kissed you again. He found the taste of your blood mixed with your essence to be intoxicating, making him drunk with lust.Â
 "Are you ready for your reward?" He said nefariously. That smile, no matter how menacing you thought it was, still made you crumble. "Mhmm" was all you could manage. He stood, quickly lifting you from the bed so you were face to face with him once more. He cradled your legs in his arms, holding you to him effortlessly. Slowly, you felt his arms drop you down, his hardness, now piercing your slick wet opening just barely. You groaned, once again trying to motion yourself closer to him, to feel him inside you, but he wouldn't let you move. It was his decision and his alone. With your arms wrapped around him, you began kissing his face and neck. Lightly with delicate pecks. Â
Her lips were so soft and moist, he thought to himself as you indulged in him. Leaving traces of saliva trailed down his neck as you pulled your lips from his skin. Soft breaths from your mouth, creating a cool sensation on the surface. He growled deeply and with sudden force, dropped you down, sliding his whole length into you without hesitation or effort. He chuckles as you cry out. His swollen cock, so stiff, so large. It hurt sliding in. You were dripping with him just sticking the tip of his head at your surface, so he entered you easily. But you could feel the pressure inside stretching you from within, a painful yet satisfying fullness. His face was focused on yours as you cried in ecstasy and pain. The pain only amplifying the pleasure of him forcefully ramming you, lifting you up and down, sliding you on and off his cock. He could feel the pressure of your walls closing up and gripping him every time he slid hid length out of you. Then having to forcefully push back in again, opening you up. âSo. Fucking. Tight.â He said with each grunt as he proceeded.Â
Homelanderâs thoughts had ceased at this point. He was enveloped in euphoria, acting on pure instinct but somehow still able to hold back. He concentrated on your face, watched as beads of sweat pooled on your forehead, then dropped down your face and onto your chest, glistening on your breasts. How your eyebrows curled up in the middle as your voice rang out into the room. Your screams only made him more crazed. He pounded you in a frenzy. Meeting each thrust with a grunt as he hit your cervix harder and faster with each push, causing you to cry out in moans of pure passion intermixed with pain.Â
He dropped you back on the bed and stood at the end, parting your thighs once more with his legs. You thoughtlessly wrap them around him pulling him closer almost instant as if it was a natural reaction. You were too out of breath to speak; you could only mumble 3 words âI'll be goodâ. Homelander leans into the bed, a hand placed at either side of your face as he enters you. Â
With your legs wrapped around him and his hands not holding you down, you were now free to meet his thrusts with your own, something he did not expect. He stopped for a moment and watched as you had become what he made you. Craving him, only wanting him, and willing to do anything for it. His body was rigid and still as you bucked and rocked underneath him, trying to meet his pelvis with your own thrusts when his right hand reaches over and closes over your throat He enters you. âFuck!â you whisper in a harsh tone, unable to fully speak. He shoves his throbbing member into your cunt, squeezing your neck tighter with every slam into you, you fuck him back looking into his eyes as you moan his name. Â
He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a long sigh, loosening his grip on your neck. âNow be a good girl and finish me offâ he says in a deep whisper. You nod your head in agreement, wanting it just as bad as he did. He lightly pecks your lips before releasing his grip and lying next to you. You lift your legs to straddle him on the bed, knees pressed to his hips. His hands wander to your chest, squeezing and pulling the flesh. With your hands placed firmly on his abdomen, you allow yourself to sit down on him, giving yourself he time to adjust to him, which he had not done. He thought this to be tedious. Were you teasing him? He would not allow it. His hands reach out and grip your hips, pushing you onto him. There was nothing you could do; his strength was unimaginable. The power of his cock expanding you within was a testament to this.Â
You didn't need him to push you down, you thought. You would happily ride him regardless of the pain. This was worth it, something you didn't know you needed and never thought you wanted. The earlier nights troubles were miles away in your mind, you could only think about him now, pleasing him. You felt a yearning for him brew deeply within your loins, and a longing in your heart.Â
You propped yourself up, crouching above him on your feet, still stranding him. Your body had accepted him now, and you were wetter than ever, sopping around his manhood. Each bounce met with a loud exhausted moan from you, and a wet slap could be heard echoing off the walls of the room. Music to Homelanders ears, internalizing you moans. Mesmerizing to hear, indifferent to the pain it may have caused you. Â
With your arms outstretched behind you gripping his thighs, you bounced on him, each time taking him in fully, rocking forward, as you did. The brush of his pubic hair against your clit as you grinded into him sent you into hysterics. You began slamming yourself on top of him, breathing heavily. He used his hands to cup your breasts and playfully tug at your nipples as you found your climax. He had never heard someone scream so loud while taking his cock. Your pace slowed as your orgasm took over, your body convulsing with every contraction of your cunt around him. âYouâre not done yet!â he growled âHow greedyâ he chuckled maliciously. His words barely registered in your fucked out brain, still swimming from the intensity of your climax. Â
âI said you're not done yet! Keep going!â He said in an insistent and unsympathetic manner, slapping your breasts, leaving a large red hand print that stung. He then grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks in his hand and pulling you down. âFuck me.â You immediately slink back and do as you are told. His good girl. Taken aback by exhaustion and overstimulated, but not wanting to disappoint this work of perfection, not wanting to disappoint The Homelander, you find the strength to continue on. You use all of your strength incomparable to his, to please him, hoping it was good, that it was enough. You were eager to please him and wanted your reward for it. Â
You planted yourself on him, over and over again, easing his tip in and out each time. His hands had reached to your backside, clutching the flesh in each fist, pulling you forward with each fall. Looking into his eyes, those piercing sapphire blue eyes sparkling with adoration. You watched as his lashes futtered and his face scrunched, his lips parting as he looked down watching himself slide in and out of you, hands latched onto you. He lets out a low breathy grunt, and his hands go limp on your cheeks, his eyes roll back. You reveled in the moment, soaking up the feeling of him spasming inside you while bursts of his seed shot deep within you. His cum dripping out and collecting around the base as you continued to slowly fuck him. Each burst causing his body to buck and convulse. You maintained your gaze on him, seeing him in his weakest moments. It was sweet. This man you had feared, turned from a monster into something beautiful to you. He was this anamorphic being you could now see clearly. He wanted to be loved, adored, cared for, appreciated, and feared. You wanted to be that person for him. You didn't want to let go or cease this moment.Â
He helped you off of him, and you lay sprawled out on the bed. A mess of exhaustion. Pearls of his essence are still leaking out. He sat calmly next to you, enjoying the last bit of euphoria from this high as his orgasm subsided. A coy smile crossed his lips as he caressed the side of your face with his fingers. With no explanation and no words spoken, he left. Just like that. Out the balcony door and into the cloudy night. Still in a daze, you lay there admiring the bites, bruises, scratches, and hand prints that freckled your body, playfully tracing along all the marks he gifted you. Waiting eagerly for is return.Â
Summary: Chapter 2 of the Subway Obsessions series from Fem Readers POV. You search for Arthur on the train on a daily occurrence now, and it's become routine. You fantasized about him daily and nightly since your last encounter. You haven't seen him since that night. If you do see him tonight, you're making your move!
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, praise, begging, mentions of violence, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of mental disorders, mentions of self-harm (past), stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff, aftercare
A/N: Finally getting to the good stuff here!!! First full-on smut! This was so fun to write and quite uh... descriptive and long. I would also like to say that the duality of these stories when read from either POV, compliment each other so well. Its crazy to see the dynamics in how they see one another. Both carrying self doubt but seeing the other as a powerful and confident creature. Seeing the best in each other and the worst in themselves. I hope they find solace in each other to see their own true potential and know they are both loved and worthy of loving! And as always, I welcome tips, ideas, comments, and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers!!
Word Count: 7.8k
SERIES: Subway Obsessions
CHAPTER 2: For Him
You awoke early every day this week. Unable to sleep, your rest tinged with excitement, an unbearable urge to make time go faster. You often would reminisce of the moment you met him. Arthur, your mind warbled at the name, leaving you with a sense of lifting off of the ground. A peculiar feeling that could only be characterized by your longing and lust. For days, you have ached to see him again. So many times, you pictured him looming over you mischievously with a crooked smile on his face, like he wanted nothing more than to devour you⌠and youâd let him. You had imagined him in the most precarious of situations that often made you blush and would shock most. Once again, you ambled out of bed, still fuzzy from sleep, wiping the dust from your eye. You had this urge since you met him to look your best or to try. You had no idea what he liked or preferred, really. Youâd hope to find out. You wanted to be his obsession, wanted him to want you as much as you did him. Did he think about you? You thought. You imagined him pleasuring himself to the thought of you, and a shiver went through to your core and nestled in your nethers where you began to swelter under your clothing. Your throat dry, cheeks brimming a rosey red, you tried to gather yourself to bring these lewd images to fruition⌠that would mean leaving the house!
So, on you went, doting on yourself unremittingly, trying to create a look you thought he would like. You wanted him to crave you, to seethe in your presence. You picked out a cream colored fuzzy fitted knit sweater so soft to the touch and a black pleated skirt that fluttered down and stopped above your knees. You knew it would billow in the wind, possibly exposing your lacey white cheeky panties. Everything you wore was for his benefit. Some silver accents, a ring, and a pair of knee-high chunky heeled boots. The way they crept up to your knees in a slick black laced up leather, every piece of clothing served a purpose. To drive him crazy. To make his senses tingle. You pictured your boots wrapped around his neck, gipping him and pulling him closer to you. You were plagued with these explicit thoughts for days. Tonight, you left your hair down, brushed out the curls, and let them bounce above your waist and over your shoulders. Cascading onto your chest, outlining your shapely breasts. You hoped this wouldnât be another night you missed him - because you did, you missed him.
You truly started to worry if it was just a one-off encounter. Nonetheless, you didnât give up. You couldnât. He haunted your dreams, your thoughts, completely infiltrating your psyche. In your mind, he was already yours. It's time to make that a reality. So funny, you thought. There was so much confidence I pretended to have when I wouldnât even know the first thing to say. You told yourself, if you did see him again that youâd try your best not to fuck it up. You didnât want to scare him or turn him off. A dreadful thought crossed your mind. What if he doesnât find me attractive? What if he doesnât like my body? My scars⌠You stopped the thought. Pushing it away like a child putting their fingers in their ears yelling la la la. You wanted nothing to do with that thought. You bottled it up as you always do, trying not to internalize your fears of rejection and body dysmorphia. I look amazing! You declared, self-talking in the mirror. Say it, just always say it, even if you donât believe it.
Platform 19 was as dreary and dead as it always is. You passed a couple of hooded figures hiding from society in the corners of the platform under the whine of exposed wires and faulty fluorescents. You kept your distance and headed for the last bench again. This was routine for you now. Every night, you retraced your steps in hopes of seeing Arthur again. Playing out scenes in your mind of how things could go if you saw him and how you would respond, etc. Your mind creating endless possibilities, always ending in your ultimate sexual demise. A familiar breeze approaches, pushing harder as it nears. Your heart leaps into your throat. The train has arrived. You grabbed your things and took a moment to steady yourself, to try and slow your nervous breathing that created a small cloud of foreboding against the cold night air. Your hands were sweating and shaking. You clutched your shoulders inward to avoid the brunt of the cold that roared as the train approached. You were restless as the doors began to open in front of you. So slow, you thought. You began your shakey descent through the corridors holding your breath, tense, heart beating in your throat. You did this every day, the same routine, train car after train car, looking for that familiar face. It had been a few days since you had seen him, but he was constantly on your mind, always nearly within reach, but never truly close enough. You needed to see him again, to hear his voice, to feel his touch.
As you approach the last section of the train, scanning the seats, you lock eyes with someone you immediately recognize as Arthur. Thatâs definitely him! You thought. Although, he looked different, absolutely captivating, and handsome as always. You let out a long breath. Your chest no longer felt tight. Finally! He raises a hand and waves you over, but you were already heading to him hurriedly without a thought. Practically tripping over yourself, your body taking on its own sentience before your mind could think. Being driven by pure desire, dragged to him mercilessly, you happily obliged. You were once again the only two people on the train. How lucky for you, you thought. How lucky for him! You smirked and giggled internally. Unbelievably striking! His face, decorated with white paint, a red smile that extended past his full lips, a red nose, red drawn on eyebrows, and blue triangles above and below each eye. His suit, a contrast of red, with an orange vest and emerald green undershirt. His hair slicked back messily. It curled at the ends in locks of green that matched his undershirt. He was magnificent! You thought. A work of art and everything you desired in that moment. The way he moved, the way he looked, enchanted you. You were the snake; he was the charmer. He moved, and you moved.
You felt a frigid breeze blow past your face and exposed legs. The doors of the subway train clanked shut with a force that blew through your knees and out the front, pushing the fabric of your skirt upwards and exposing your upper thighs to Arthur. You saw him glance down. His lips curled in as he bit his lower lip. He quickly stood, holding on to a rail with one hand and reaching out with his other. You were mere inches away. He helps you sit down, releasing his grip on the rail and sliding his hand across your lower back, guiding you to the seat closest to the window and sits next to you. There are bench seats in front of you both and behind you, essentially caging you in. You donât feel threatened. You donât feel claustrophobic. You feel safe, protected, and secure. Your mind searches, you donât know what to say, but you play it off coyly. You boast as if you have confidence to hide your true inner demeanor. You were a nervous wreck, but also the most excited youâve ever been. He was here! Literally within reach, the possibilities flood your mind. You finally caught him, and this time, you were not going to let him go.
When he sat, your shoulders, elbows, hips, and thighs brushed softly against one another. The movement from the train creates and alleviates pressure randomly between you two. Pushing you into one another. Immediate warmth began brewing in the space closest between your bodies. You turn to each other and shift your bodies toward one another. Your knees, pressing into his outer thigh. You straighten out your skirt and move your hair out of your face, then look up at him. He has his arm extended out on the seat behind you. He speaks out. âI'm a clownâ a sudden and unexpected sentiment. He seemed to want to explain. However, you hadn't really thought much about it aside from the fact you found it extremely attractive. It was still Arthur, but the look enhanced his features, narrowing his brow and accentuating his jawline. It just felt right. Nothing seemed out of place about this to you, so you didnât think too much about it.
âI work as a clown for a talent agencyâ he said while gesturing towards his face with a hand. You listened attentively as his voice caressed the most starved inner parts of your brain. Scratching an itch you didnât know you had. âBut my dream is to become a comedian. I want to bring laughter and joy to the worldâ. He spoke so honestly and so beautifully. You could hear the pain in his voice he masked. It was endearing, and you thought, how commendable. Such a simple dream but with such big implications and impact. It meant more than him, you thought, how selfless, and how kind. This man you saw before you, so humble and sweet. You felt primal, urges begin to take over your mind, you let them, but maintained a friendly calm exterior⌠you hoped. âArthur!â You jested! âI didnât know you wanted to be a comedian! I love that! And I love the makeup!â You slapped his leg playfully. He smiled, his cheeks creating wide lines rippling the red paint. âYeah, I uh, have a book I write jokes in and everything! It's got a lot of personal stuff and stuff from my own life, I think thatâs what makes the best jokes.â He boasted sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as he did.
You two began a long, deep conversation as the train crawled through the endless tunnels under the city, and time stood still. The lights from the tunnel flashing across your faces every so often light up the dimly lit train car. You spoke about anything and everything. One conversation led into the next and story after story as you two began getting to know about each other on a deeper level. You spoke about your past, how you grew up in an abusive household with parents who abused drugs, and how you were taken away at five years old due to neglect. He spoke to you about his past and childhood as well, how he was adopted and didnât know his dad, how he had a neurological condition that caused him to laugh uncontrollably in situations of high stress or emotion. You two spoke about mental health, and he spoke of his need for medications and therapy. Although he seemed apprehensive to speak about many of the deeper topics, perhaps it was a fear of judgment. Nevertheless, you maintained a presence of safety, to be someone he could speak to safely and openly. You, too, have gone through life dealing with these issues. You didnât feel comfortable telling him about your self-harm scars, though, at least not yet. You felt it was too intense and ashamed. But you related on your mutual need for therapy and the like and spoke honestly about your own diagnosis. You bared your soul to him without hesitation, knowing you are broken, yet doing your best just like him. You sought to make him feel not so alone because, in reality, thatâs how he made you feel.
You thought to yourself how lucky you were to find a soul akin to your own with similar relatable experiences. You could help each other through things, learn, and grow. You spoke about life, politics, hopes, dreams, experiences, travel, etc. etc. You watched his face as he spoke, seeing every detail. How his nose crinkles when he smiles, the shape of his nose, the angular shape of his jawline as he opens and closes his mouth. Every lash that fluttered as he blinked. How his forehead moved when heâd raise his eyebrows. You studied him, wanting to know more, to see more. You noted every emotion you saw crossing his face, keeping the images of his face stored somewhere in your mind. The two of you connected in so many ways. You related so closely to his life stories and had so much in common. You felt even closer to him now. It was no longer surface level, and your lust for him only grew deeper, more complex.
You had an abundant amount of respect for this man. You found him to be a genuinely good and respectable person just trying to take care of his mother and support himself and his life's goals. Just like you, he wanted to make people happy. To help them and to succeed and be respected. It was wholesome. With each minute that passed, time seemed not to move at all. Every time the train moved in a rough manor and bumped you into him, you took the chance to steady yourself on him. Grabbing his thigh, curling your fingers softly inward towards the middle, sliding them off softly as you did, tracing lines on his suit. Every chance you had in the conversation to laugh or jest, you used as a chance to touch him. Putting your hand on his leg, looking him in his eyes when speaking seriously and from the heart, and playfully grabbing his shoulder when he would crack a joke. He was funny without trying, often just being a smartass. His humor was dry and a bit dark. It matched perfectly to yours. You both laughed loudly and wholeheartedly in the less serious parts of your conversation. It was bliss. It was so easy to speak with him. There were no awkward silences, no need to fill the space. You could listen to him speak all day and vice versa you could talk to him all day. The way he listened as you spoke. He was still, eyes concentrated on you and you alone. Watching your lips as you spoke, afraid to keep eye contact. And those eyes peeking at you through the makeup while looking down at you as he spoke, you melted into him. Hanging on his every word, anticipation at its height.
You crossed one leg over the other. The one farthest from him, your leg hooking his knee slightly and brushing past it as you did before resting in that position. Deliberately. You wanted to see if you could make his cheeks flush behind that makeup. You wanted to test the waters to see if, in fact, he was feeling what you were feeling. As much as you preach about communication and expressing your feelings, you were far too scared of rejection to be so forward. Rejection from Arthur would break you. You already felt so close to him. So, you were unsure how to proceed. Perhaps a look crossed your face. Perhaps he could read your mind. He quickly glanced at his leg and then returned his gaze to you. He began to reach his hand toward your thigh when suddenly you recognized the loud speaker announcing the approaching platform. Yours was still several stops away, but it immediately put a panic into your heart.
You wouldnât have much time left with him now. Reality came crashing in on you, and you sprung yourself upwards, putting your knees on the bench to see over the seats behind you. You turned towards the back to view the closest marquee board, hoping the numbers were a lie. It was quick and sudden. Unbeknownst to you, in doing so, you essentially placed your breasts right in Arthur's face. His hand immediately reached up and held you close, pliantly, pulling you in, holding you still, a loving gesture truly. His hands felt stiff and strong. For a brief moment, you could feel the pressure of his nose in your cleavage and his forehead on your chest burrowing into you and inhaling deeply before you slid back down. Once again, forgetting about the numbers and being brought back to this man before you. You so badly wanted to be with him physically. To touch him in any way, for him to touch you.
You slid back into your seat, looking up at him, a mere inches away, bodies so close you could feel his breath. He was looking into your eyes examiningly. You shifted your gaze, feeling exposed and apologizing profusely, practically babbling. âSorry, sor-sorry, I didnât mean to. I mean, I-I completely forgot, I wasnât paying atte-.â While trying to explain away your actions and trying not to seem like you were being rude- because thatâs how you thought he would have perceived it, jumping up in the middle of a conversation like that. Arthur grabs your face with both hands. Gently placing them upon your cheeks with his thumbs resting under your chin, redirecting your gaze back to his and tilting your head upward ever so gently. He didnât need to push or pull. With him, you were like water. You flowed with whatever movement he initiated. His eyes gazing into yours, your face a mixture of surprise and want. Your lips parted slightly; eyebrows raised. As if answering every wish in your mind, Arthur leans in and pulls you closer to him. One thumb reaches up from your chin and brushes over your lips. The other hand moves from your face and smoothes down your neck, sliding back behind your head and pulling you even closer as he steadies himself, shifting in his seat as he does. He caresses the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair, squeezing lightly.
Tilting his head to the side, you close your eyes as you feel his lips press to yours. He lets out a long sigh through his nose, and you can hear a hum low in his throat. You immediately loosen, dropping your shoulders and pushing yourself onto him, leaning in fully for the kiss. You turn your body in your seat, getting up on your knees to reach his face more easily. You place your hands on his chest, pulling at his collar, wanting him closer. You moan and exhale pure passion, all of your longing, all of your obsession, finally being fulfilled. He sucked in through his teeth as if inhaling your essence, drinking you in. Your breathing was heavy, heart racing, skin hot. Your body felt like fire. He kissed you passionately, pushing hard into your lips, not breaking contact as he traced his tongue along yours, fighting for a spot in your mouth. Your teeth clanked as you kissed aggressively. Pawing at each other helplessly, taken over by your desire for one another. His hand went from your face and slid down the front of your top, smoothing the fabric as it slid. His hand rested at the seem just above your skirt. His fingers then began to slowly peak under your shirt as you felt his other hand slide from your neck to the small of your back. His fingers were cold against your skin, stinging, leaving a trail of cooler skin as they moved closer to their destination. It was exhilarating.
You kissed him back passionately, breathing hard through your nose, pushing back against him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, moving it to the back of his head where you playfully pulled his hair. You could feel him smile through the kiss. You moved your other hand from his collar to his chest, rubbing up to his shoulder and placing your fingers under his suits overcoat, sliding them delicately down his shoulder. Without hesitation, he took the initiative to follow suit and slid his arm out the rest of the way, pulling it off the other arm without leaving your face. His lips slightly shifted as his body moved. He re steadied just as quickly, dedicating his full attention to you. You acted, and he reacted and vice versa. Symbiotic. As his tongue gently roamed your mouth, his hands continued roaming your body greedily tugging at you, grabbing your skin lightly. Leaving no inch untouched. His fingers danced gently over your skin, but with enough force and authority to hold you in, to keep you there.
With your body pressed up against his, you lift your left knee and slide it between his legs finding a place to rest it on the seat bringing yourself even closer to him, hands in his hair again, tussling his curls playfully as you bit his lip. He let out a small, almost inaudible gasp. He then opened his eyes drunkenly and gave you a pleading look. His red paint smeared on his face, blurring the lines of the smile and no doubt spread onto your lips and nose as well in the heat of the kiss. You smirked, now knowing the power you had over him. Feeling his whole body erupt with desire at your touch. He couldnât keep his hands off of you. You looked longingly into his eyes, seeing into him. You brimmed with emotions, too many to name, but at the surface was pure love and contentment, you wanted to give him all of you, all of your love. His arms wrapped around your back felt like an extension of your own body. Like he was a part of you, a piece that just fit so perfectly into place. The connection is undeniable. You placed your hand on his face, cradling his cheek and tracing where the lines of his red smile were. He all but sunk into your hand. He was so cute, so innocent, so untouched. You wanted to strip him of his purity, to ruin him sexually in ways that would make a preacher pray. You bit your bottom lip and rushed back to his. They were as soft as you imagined, pouty, and pillowy. They moved softly over yours as he pressed his tongue inward. You pulled his tongue into your mouth sucking on it, tracing underneath with your tongue reaching the tip and letting go. The kiss ended in a smack as you let go of his tongue. His hands had now wandered under your shirt, so precise and sure of his movements. One hand in the back holding you close, putting pressure on the small of your back just above your waist, one in the front, cupping your ample breast. He would switch from one breast to the other, his hand squeezing around them with minute pressure. You could hear a low groan building in his throat.
Unaware the entire time you were kissing him, your hips and legs that were straddling his thigh had begun moving upon their own volition. Rocking and swaying with the kiss, grinding on his knee. You could feel the heat that rose up from your core, moistening your panties as he encouraged you with his hands, holding you steadily, gently moving with your motions. You hadn't had much thought while kissing him. It was almost mechanical, routine. But now, all you could think about was him sliding his hands down there. You slowly nudged your knee closer to his groin, as close as it would go. His legs tightened around yours, and you could feel the stillness in his pants brush against your knee. This nearly sent you over the edge. Made you crazed with passion. He slid both hands around your back, reaching under your skirt, gripping his hands around your exposed bare cheeks, and pulled closer. The tips of his fingers brushing up against the lace of your panties ever so slightly. Squeezing his hands hard gripping your flesh until it spilled out between each finger, you audibly moaned in his ear, gasping at his touch. You flung your head back as he began peppering kisses around your neck. Starting behind your ear and working his way down to your shoulders, then collar bones and back up the front of your neck under your chin and working his way back to your mouth. This man had you in a choke hold, and you were putty in his forgiving hands. The world around you melted away. Unbothered by the frigid air in the subway, unaware that your stop had already come and gone. It was the last thing on your mind and worlds away. Arthur was your focus. You had his attention, and you planned on keeping it for as long as possible, and you didnât care who saw or who was affected by it. Work who? Work where? Honestly, fuck that place! Nothing made you feel as good as Arthur did right now. Not helping people, not being a reliable coworker, nothing. You would let everyone and everything go for him. Heâs the closest youâve ever felt to joy, to pure unfiltered exhilaration. You were nothing if not enraptured by his touch and charmed by his nature. It felt like a dream in the sense you were content, he felt like home, like a nice warm bed you had drifted off in. He radiated pure comfort. Reality now matching your dreams, your fantasies, coming to fruition. It was destiny.
He continued kissing your face, his hands, one gripping your breast, one gripping the back of your head with his fingers, entangled in your curls. He clenched his hand and pulled you away slightly. A light gasp escaped your lips. He gazed into your eyes with intensity. You watched as his lips moved but barely registered the words. âCome onâ a hazy voice spoke in a low whispered gravelly tone. You shifted your leg away from between his as he rose and offered out a hand. Mindlessly, you followed, grasping his hand as he pulled you out of the corner and led you to the seats that lined the side of the subway sprawled out in front of a large window. There was more room here. You were no longer caged in, yet you felt exposed. But those thoughts were not at the forefront of your mind. No thoughts, really. You were drunk with passion and followed his commands without thought. Like a river whose flow is uninterrupted by the current or obstacles in its way, you unabashedly follow.
He lays his suits overcoat on the seat for you. And motions for you to sit. Such a gentleman, you think. You watch him, observing how he looks at you. Reserved, trying to move slowly and take his time with you. But you could see under the surface how much he held back. You could tell by how he loosened his collar, the smile that curled onto his lips. He let out a sigh. Of course, you knew you had this power over him, but you wanted so badly for him to just take control. You didnât have to ask.
His overcoat lay underneath you; the inner fabric was a soft, deep red silk still warm from his skin. You could feel it on your legs beneath you. He moved to stand in front of you, pushing your legs apart as he did, standing between them as close to you as possible. He towered over you as you looked up at him, trying to ignore the bulge growing in his pants right in front of your face. He mustâve seen you glance. His eyes narrowed, and a smile crossed his face you havenât quite seen yet. It was darker, more menacing, you felt your heart skip a beat, your breathing quickened. He caressed the side of your face with his palm, and you melted into his touch. Then quickly, he pulled your chin upwards with a push of his index finger. âYouâre so beautiful.â He said in a growl through his teeth. âSo pretty. And such a good girl.â He chuckled as he let go of your chin. You nodded. âFor youâ you whispered while roaming your hand up the front of his abdomen. Reaching underneath his vest and undershirt with one while the other traced the hem of his pants and tugged gently. His smile grew wider. âFor me.â He stated purposefully. There was more weight behind those words than you had realized at that time, but you would come to know in the coming weeks. You would have it no other way. You were for him.
You looked at him, your eyes, begging him as you traced your hand back down his chest and to the hem of his pants. You placed both of your index fingers within the seem and traced the waistband out to his sides, feeling his hip bones, then back to the middle. Brushing your forearm ever so gently over his now throbbing bulge. You felt a slight twitch as you did, but he didnât flinch. âTell me what you want Y/Nâ He wanted you to speak. He wanted you to say it, to ask nicely. You would beg if he asked. âPleaseâ you say. He remained still, watching as you squirmed. He placed a hand behind your head and wrapped it around your hair once more as you looked up at him. âPlease, I want to taste you.â You almost cried out. He bends down and kisses you, deeply squeezing your face, inhaling your breath, his tongue tracing your yours. He pushes himself flush against the seat, looking down at you, and nods. âBe a good girl for me thenâ.
You immediately began unbuttoning and then unzipping his pants. They catch above his cock and you have to maneuver them over his stiffness to finally free him. The tented underwear slid down easy. Finally revealing what you had only imagined when you were alone in your room. The lights of the subway tunnel washed over his body. The subway was dark for the most part sans the flickering fluorescents here and there. But occasionally an outside light would speed by and light everything up. And in that moment, while you were revealing him, you could see every detail. How his cock sprang up when freed from his clothing, how the tip glistened under tge amber glow of the lights. You grasped his thickness in your hand, reveling at the size and girth. You instantly felt the wetness increase in between your legs as the thought of him penetrating you played out in your mind. His tip leaking precum out of a bulbous head, your hand perched right below. You take a finger and gently smooth it over, spreading the stickiness around his tip. Tapping it, pulling it up, and playing with it. A hiss escapes through his lips. You look up with a smile just as menacing as his earlier. You slide your hand down to his base and lick from the bottom to the tip, cleaning off the precum you made a mess of.
You then take him into your mouth, stretching open as wide as you could to accommodate him. You watched his reaction as you pushed his swollen cock back into your throat, slowly taking him all in. His eyes snapped shut and his head fell back. His hands instinctively reached for your head, his fingers intertwined into your hair and massaging your neck and shoulders while pulling you in. Your hand held at his base and you began sucking his cock slowly and deliberately. Each time coming up to circle his tip with your tongue, then scrapping your teeth along the edge gently as you went down. His breathing was erratic as he lightly grunted while gently grabbing your head and rocking his hips to meet your movements. Letting go of his base you grabbed onto his hips and continued sucking, pulling him deeper into your mouth. Your hands gently playing with his balls, rubbing them and circling your thumb around each.
His size was quite substantial, and the thickness filled your throat, hurting slightly as it passed in and out. You created a pressure inside your mouth while sucking that whenever his cock slipped out it did so with a pop. You pull your lips off and again begin licking up and down his shaft. Cleaning up any spit that lingered. He let out another long sigh then pulled your head away from him. His index finger under your chin again, lifting you to his gaze and standing you up. His member poking your lower abdomen. Immediately your hands were all over each other in a passionate kiss where he tasted himself. Your tongues fighting for space in each other's mouths, as he raised your top off over your head and gently laid it onto the seat next to you. He then returned to the kiss. Pulling you close to him, pressing his hard member against you. âLay downâ he says as he gestures to the seat with his coat outstretched. You follow directions, wondering what's next.
You lay across the seats propped up on your elbows, watching him as he walks toward the end of the seats and stands again in between your legs. He grabs under your things behind your knees and pulls you closer to him with force. He then lifts up your skirt gently with both hands revealing your lacy white panties now soaked with anticipation. He places his fingers under the elastic and begins pulling them down. You look onward observing him. Heâs so gentle with you, so lovingly tender. You raise your knees, and he slips your panties over your knees and boots, respectfully setting them on the seat next to you. He then raises his head to you, looming over you with your vagina completely exposed.
He began kissing you gently and lightly when you suddenly felt his hand smooth over your mound. His fingers slowly approached your opening. With your knees raised, your body starts to buck in response to his proximity. You hold your hands on his chest, he loosens his collar, unbuttons a few buttons, and removes his vest and returns to kissing you. You return your hands to his chest, feeling his ribs, his collar bones, and his hip bones as your hands travel, exploring his body further. Your mind is fuzzy and dizzy with passion. You let out a sharp gasp and moan while breathing heavily as he pushes a finger inside you. He slowly moves it in and out while watching your face. You gawk at him in a pleading manor, your breath caught in your throat when he slips in another finger. You moan loudly in his ear. The tension, leaving your body. With one hand, he pulls your bra down slightly, revealing your breasts. He begins lightly sucking on your nipple, his tongue, sharp and circling. His breathing made the saliva from his tongue cold on your skin. A tingling sensation that, paired with his fingers inside you, almost took you over the edge. His pace began to quicken as he watched you from behind your breasts. Your chest, rising and falling with each pant. His thumb rubbed your clit while he methodically moved his fingers within you. He watched for your reactions, the way you moaned told him either more or less. He was so intuitive, learning your body so quickly.
As pleasure welled up within you, you were looking at him. Seeing his satisfaction in the way he made you moan, how he made you squirm. It was almost overwhelming. He watched on and smiled. The red paint still smeared near his lips and cheeks, some of the white smeared too. You watched as he descended to your core. His fingers still working you, tipping you over the edge. You couldnât image his cock in you if his fingers alone had you under his spell. His face disappeared, all but his eyes remained. Blue triangles peeked out above your lower abdomen. His free hand gripping your thigh. He rubbed over the scars on your legs, kissing them, unbothered. He's literally the sweetest and wants you to feel loved and appreciated. His demeanor and actions showed this. You feel a breeze as your skirt lifts and his face completely disappears. There's a sudden feeling of moist warmth on your vulva from his breath, so warm. His lips pressed against your labia. You felt him lick from where his fingers were inside you, up to your clit. His tongue was hot, and flat as he enveloped you into his mouth fully. Sucking your labia and tonguing the edges. You almost completely lost it. It's as if you could see steam coming off of your bodies against the cold air of the train car. Youâve almost completely forgot you were even on a train. A public train! With your panties off completely exposed while Arthur was eating you out! The thrill settled like a pit in your stomach. You were filled with an intense fear of being caught, but too deep in the throes of passion to care. It may have even excited you a little you thought. You hoped no one would see, however unlikely it may be at this late hour. But you also realized the long window behind you left space to be seen by anyone who passed by. Surely the train would be moving too fast for that though. Another thought interrupted in your mind, that there could still be other people on this train in another cabin, and they could come to this one any time they wanted!
âFuuuck!â You moan. Your clit began to throb as he sucked it gently with his teeth. Flicking it left to right with his tongue and continuing to elicit moans from you with the work of his fingers. You grabbed his green locks through your fingers and pulled hard while rocking your hips into him, feeling his nose on your mound. As you approached the precipice of climax he just as quickly removed his fingers and stopped sucking. You immediately became aware and tried to pull his head back down. âNo, pleaseâ you begged in a whispered moan. âShhhhâ he whispered while raising one finger to his lips and standing guard. His face barely had the paint on that it did previously. It had all but smeared off.
The train had stopped at a platform, and the doors had opened. You hadn't noticed, but to be quite frank, you did not care! You were so close, this is cruel! A group of men who seemed drunk and were loudly yelling walked past the window. You both waited in anticipation and complete silence as they passed the train car. You let out a big breath. They were leaving. The doors shut, and the subway began to darken once more. Arthur immediately turned his attention back to you, rubbing his hands from your hips up to your breasts. Still in between your legs. He had been looking down at you, seeing you be so vulnerable, so exposed, so⌠obedientâŚfor him. You sat up on your elbows to match his kiss. Thrusting your face against his. His hands now back down at your knees. He spreads them wider and pulls you closer to the edge. After anticipating this, you scoot closer as well.
His mouth reaches you once more, drawing in a deep kiss holding your face cupped in his hands. You reach down and grab hold of him, feeling him throb in your grip. You lightly stroke him a couple of times before guiding him to your opening. He pulls his face from yours with a look of many questions. You silence it with one word. âPlease?â Hearing you say please was all he needed to hear. He placed his tip at your entrance, sliding it up and down, smoothing your wetness all over his length. He was looking you in the eyes as he leaned over you, your hand on his abdomen. Slowly, he pushed in. You felt your vaginal opening stretch only slightly at first, but just the tip was enough to make you cry out. You jut an arm out and put it around his neck, cradling him to you, forehead to forehead as he pushes in further. You feel him completely fill you. Slowly, but he easily slips right in regardless of his size because of how wet he has made you. He hums in your ear, a low, almost guttural sound that fills you with a primal urge and instinct you can't name, just something in your nature. You eagerly take him in, rocking up to him, unable to take it so slow. You wanted him to fuck you, but he took his time being gentle and careful with you as if you were a delicate glass ornament. He treated you with so much respect and love, even in the midst of passion. You were pulled to him like a binary star system, revolving only around each other.
Every push made you cry out in ecstasy, each time getting further and further inside of you. Finally, his pace began to quicken. He rose from you, now standing. His hands grasped your knees as he rocked his hips into you fully. Each time hitting your cervix. Your walls clenched around him. With every pump, his pace sped, and the thrusts became harder and harder. He watched your face, intuitively making sure you were ok with his pace and how hard he was going. You encouraged him with moans and songs of his praises âyes, fuck, yesâ âplease donât stop, fuckâ âArthur please fuck me! Pleaseâ and âharder Arthurâ followed by cries of utter passion. He mimicked your cries of passion with his own, throwing his head back and grunting with every thrust.
The louder you were, the louder he got. A symphony of passion, dancing to the music created from the instruments of your bodies. Each thrust sent a shiver through your core, traveling up your spine, your legs shook, and you whimpered with relief. Goosebumps radiated and rippled through your flesh; it made you shiver. You arched your back and met every thrust of his with your own. You locked eyes, panting and thrusting in unison. He then grabbed your legs and placed them around his neck leaning into you and pushing even deeper and placing one hand on your lower abdomen in front of your legs where he reached through them and began teasing your clit. His eyes held steadfast on you, feasting on you with his gaze. Stern and focused, gritting his teeth as he grunted pumping into your cunt so hard it began to hurt. The pain in of itself transcended that of something hurtful but only became more pleasurable. It made you want more.
You felt your walls clench and spasm around his length. Gasping and out of breath you manage to get the words out âAr-Arthâ âFuck, I-Iâm gonna cum!â You grabbed helplessly towards him, to bring him close to you once more. Your legs fell from his shoulders, and he leaned in to steal a kiss. You tried your best, meeting his passionate kiss with breathy attempts to connect, to lick. He continued his loving assault on your cunt. A spasm shot through your core, and you lurched forward then fell back again, arching your back and shaking with every wave of pleasure that rippled through your body. You screamed out, cried out in high pitch moans. You caught Arthur's gaze once more, his face smiling with devilish delight. You wrapped your legs around him pulling him in, waves still surging through your body, squeezing him with every contraction of your climax. You softly touched his face âdonât stopâ.
He began fucking you furiously. He was pulling you towards him with every inch of himself he could fit into you. Bucking back and forth with no rhythm, purely enjoying you for himself, using you to meet his own end. His face clenched and distorted so beautifully as his orgasm took hold. His force remained the same, slamming into you but his speed slowed considerably as he pumped every last drop of his seed deep inside of you. In almost a whisper, he let out the most deep animalistic groan from the depths of his vocal range as he came. His manhood, spasming with every burst of his essence that filled you. You could feel him pulsating within you, feel his substantial hot thick load as he continued to fuck it out of you until he couldnât stand the stimulation and collapsed on top of you, still inside you.
He lay on top of you for some time. You embraced each other, held him close, and cradled him in the crook of your neck, still reeling from your vigorous activity and taking it all in. He was still inside of you, content, unabatingly so. You didnât want to waste a moment with him, praying it would last forever. This perfect moment with him, so sublime. You felt at peace, euphoric. You thought since you missed work and didnât plan on going in now, you had the rest of the night to spend with him. Your mind drifted off thinking of the possibilities when a chime from the platform interrupted your TLC so rudely. The last stop was approaching. You and Arthur exchanged glances, him looking up at you, knowing you would have to both get dressed any moment. But you took the minutes you had left with him to continue to absorb his altruistic nature, to be in his comfort. At least for this short time until you could again.
Summary: From Arthurs POV. It's just another night on the subway. A typical ride on the Gotham train on his way home from a long day of running errands and away from his tedious depressive thoughts. Perhaps he would catch a glimpse of the woman he could only seem to catch in passing, the woman heâd been secretly watching, following, fantasizing about nightly. Perhaps the unending misery that is the city above had him thinking of change, of something new to obsess about. Something to draw his mind away from the blistering and the mundane. Would he finally get the courage to talk to her?Â
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, swearing, stalking, obsession, mentions of violence, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff
A/N: Beginning to a series? Who knows. May add things later. First fic, btw! I'm hyper fixated now, so expect more. This is something I've been mulling around with for a while. I've done this story from both the readers' POV and from Arthur's because I can't get enough!! So, make sure to read both! I loved writing from this perspective so much, btw! Literally! Send ideas, edits, etc. my way!! And be nice please. The first chapter is mostly fluff/ descriptive plot/character building. Cheers! Enjoyyy!
Word Count: 3.9k
SERIES: Subway ObsessionsÂ
CHAPTER 1: Chance MeetingÂ
Today was another mundane day. Arthur had been out earlier in the evening running errands for his mother. Picking up T.V. dinners at the grocer and medications for him and her at the local pharmacy. Still, getting around the city was a chore in of itself. He figured the subway would be the easiest and quickest way home. It was nearing 10 o'clock pm. His mother would be worried, and it was getting late. He knew the dangers of roaming Gotham city at these hours. His mother used to say, "That's when the colorful people come out." A way to make something serious, completely unserious. Still, he knew the dangers and tried as hard as he might to keep his wits about him. Easier said than done when you're a man with a neurological disorder, apparently so many people hate you for. He wished theyâd understood or tried at least. Â
He always pondered why the people of Gotham were so... well so mean! Everyone he encountered save for the very, very few were just assholes to him. Perhaps it was the political climate? With Thomas Wayne running for government placement, it probably didn't help. Make the rich richer and the poor poorer he thought. Perhaps it was the state of the city itself, the infrastructure, the lack of resources. He sure has been on the wrong end of that stick one too many times. "Good people suffer Happy," his mother would say. But he never understood why it had to be that way. Life was circumstantial. He didn't ask to have what little he did. He didn't even ask to be born and thought life was the real joke.
It doesn't have to make sense to be funny! He jested internally. Because its fucked! And there lies the comedy for those broken enough to see, yet perhaps healed enough to laugh at the pain. Because, what else can you do? Â
His mind wandered through these endless fields of thought when a train car stopped in front of him. He had been standing on the platform disassociating for some time. Perhaps he even forgot where he was for a moment, ruminating over the wrongs of life and playing them out differently in his head. The things he didn't say or do, what he could have done differently...Â
The brisk hiss and click of the air brakes as they screeched to a halt brought him back to reality. He blinked a couple of times, waiting for the doors to open. As he did, a disheveled looking figure pushed past him while exiting. He burst out in a cry of compulsory laughter and stepped on the train. He was in the last car and immediately noticed it was bearable, as bearable as riding the subway can be he postulated.Â
In his search for a seat towards the end of the train car, he noticed a large putrid looking spill in the back. It melted off the seats and slid across the aisle. It looked sticky. Best to avoid that then, he thought. He opted for a bench seat away from the offending area and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, arm outstretched on the head of the seat next to him. No one was in this car except for him. He found a moment of solace and drank it in, filling himself with the noiseless satisfaction of silence and peace when a warbled voice broke over the loud speaker. He couldn't really understand it, but the semblance of words spoke what sounded like âplatform 19â. It was all he could understand through the robot whine. He felt anticipation rising within him.Â
At approximately 10:15 p.m., the doors of the subway train broke open with a gush of cold night air. At the other end of the subway, he watched as a woman stepped onto the train like a fawn. Scared and unsure of where to go or sit. She was bright and colorful; she immediately caught his eye. Was this what his mother meant by colorful people? He thought to himself. He quickly realized it was her! The girl he had fantasized about daily and nightly, hoping to catch her on the train but only seeming to in his thoughts and dreams, remembering her face, her scent that penetrated her surroundings. He had tirelessly followed her the first time he saw her. She was the only person to smile at him that day. He had to know more and had to know why. But she wasn't always on the same train. He always hoped to run into her and had almost given up, thinking she must have been some sort of hallucination he created for himself to lessen his own pain. But there she was. Â
She looked different tonight. She looked like a predator, displaying colors brightly in the face of possible danger. She was a force; he felt the atmosphere change as soon as she stepped in through the steel doors, a thickness lifted in the air and he could feel himself tense in his seat. His clothes were suddenly uncomfortable, his collar too tight, his hands, sweaty. She always looked beautiful when he saw her, she always looked content and comfortable. Hair in a messy bun with strands falling about her face swayed by the wind that surged through the train car. Sweats he could still make out her figure through, leaving him wanting more every time, it drove him crazy! But today she looked like she was straight out of the films on the TV! He thought to himself. She made him think of glamour, it's the only word that truly fit, like the old films he would watch with his mom. Wow! Was she a sight to see, a cool pristine liquid flowing over his burning eyes. A soothing image of pure proclivity. An unknown sense of calm swept over him.Â
He watched, frozen, as she cautiously observed the train car searching for a seat. He looked at her from top to bottom. She was significantly smaller than him, petite, probably around five feet three he gauged. Fuzzy black boots, blue jeans tightly hugging her figure, full thick thighs, his mouth began to water - he thirsted for her, wanted to drink in her every essence. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to choke it down. A tight black shirt under a small cropped pink sweater with red hearts all over. It perfectly displayed her large soft breasts. Brown curls bounced about her shoulders as she walked, strands of them fell daintily on her face and cheeks. As she walked, she would flick it away with a quick movement of her head. The way she did that, moving her hair out of her face without using her hands. It made him tingle in all the right places. His mind raced. What else can she do without using her hands? he thought. Â
There was something pink in her hair too, he saw as she walked past. She didn't notice him at first. Most people don't he thought to himself. Although this thought disappointed him, he didn't fault her for it. He had the urge to make her notice him. To be a presence and to be objectified by her, he only wished he could hold that kind of power. Â
As she passed, the scent he had come to know as her- wafted past him, he sucked in through his teeth sharply. It was heaven on earth. Stimulating. He would follow that scent hoping to find her, mercilessly searching. It was like a drug, an aphrodisiac, and he felt his cock spasm. She was eyeing the seats towards the back where that odd spill was. A butterfly he thought. It's a pink butterfly in her hair. He immediately felt like a school boy again, fawning over and wanting to get the attention of the pretty girl and for her to return it. Â
"This one's fine!" He blurted out, not really knowing what he was saying. She turned around, her beauty, dark, striking, and he found it hard to speak again. He stammered and was able to get the lump out of his throat to follow up with; "I don't know what that is back there but these are not so bad" his voice felt cracked but he tried to contain his composure, he didn't want to scare her off. He was the only other person on the train, and it must have jolted her since she didn't see him at first. Plus, she probably thinks I'm some kind of creep or weirdo, he thought to himself. There was some truth behind those thoughts, but that didn't make him a bad person, he thought. All day, he spends trying to have a nice day to make himself and others happy, trying to think good thoughts, trying not to let the bad influence the good he can salvage.Â
"Oh, thank you!" A sweet voice broke the monotony of thought, and immediately he was flung back into the present. She made her way to the seats laid out in front of him. A row of sideways seating. He watched her sit gracefully, slowly, like a calculated ballet dancer, he thought. Every move fluid, every move perfect. When she sat, she arranged her things on the seat next to her and settled in. He wondered to himself where she was going. Why she had so many bags, why she was riding the subway so late, as a woman, she should be terrified. This city is not safe, especially for someone as strikingly beautiful as her. She was like a beacon of light, too bright to stare at, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and simply couldn't resist the allure.Â
She actually sat next to me! He thought. Only one seat away, actually next to me. But that wasn't all. She saw him, noticed him, heard him, and listened to him. The weight of these simple gestures made his hands sweaty, and he tried his best to remain aloof. The doors of the train opened on the other side of her, and a breeze blew her hair behind her and over her face. He couldn't help but see her, every aspect of her. He studied her every move, every inch of her body. He wanted this to last, for this image to never leave his mind. Â
The wind that blew past her carried on it her scent. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet alluring scent of peach? No. Some kind of berry? No. When the doors shut and the pressure created another breeze, the scent wafted to him again. Taking it all in, he identified the smell as watermelon. Some kind of fruity smell filled his senses with the feeling of euphoria. It was intoxicating. He wondered what it would be like to be pressed up against her, inhaling her deeply. He looked down with a deep sigh when he looked back over. She was moving a strand of hair out of her face and caught a glimpse of her looking at him as well. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she broke her gaze. She was fire, burning too hot near him, and he wanted so badly to play, to burn himself, engulf himself in her flames breathlessly. Â
He tried to come up with something to say, anything. How do I talk to her? What would I even say without sounding stupid? He thought. He watched on as the florescent lights above her flickered. It lit up parts of her he hadn't seen upon first observation. Glitter decorated her collar bones and cheeks. Her sweater was slightly unzipped. He could see the peeking out of her cleavage. Sparkling with glitter, so pretty, she reminded him of the stars of the night sky. Unmistakably beautiful, yet so. Far. Away. He had been working up the courage to say something to her, to hear her voice again, he didn't want to forget it. A symphony replayed in his mind. He needed more. Â
He stumbled over his words, "Sorry, I-it's hard for me to talk, I meant to introduce myself. I'm Arthur, " he said in the kindest, most unassuming voice he could muster. She looked up and locked eyes. They burned his insides like hot coals. He anticipated her reply, not knowing if she would even engage in conversation with him. "No worries!" She spoke in a reassuring way that made his heart flutter. "I know how it can be, trust me!" She sounded genuine. Kind. There was something underneath her voice, though he couldn't quite conceptualize. Fear? Doubt, maybe? He wanted to take it away. Â
"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur!" Again, her voice beaming so light and so lifting. She reached out to shake his hand that he had offered. Her hand was small and was practically swallowed by his. Her fingers were warm, sweeping softly over his palm as she grasped his hand in hers. It's a simple thing, he thought. It was a small touch, but it was enough to make him crumble inside. She felt so nice! "Y/N," he said. "I like that." He lamented. Such a beautiful name. But everything about her was beautiful. Her presence was wholesome and welcoming. Is this real? he pondered. Thoughts took over again, and not knowing how to continue the conversation, they sat in silence for a moment as he worked up the courage to speak again.Â
Moments passed that felt like a lifetime, but he was content in her presence, soaking up her aura. As he went to ask her a question, she moved to speak as well. Catching each other off guard, Arthur profusely apologized "No it's okay, go ahead," he said, not wanting to interrupt her. "No, no, that's okay, what were you going to say?" She insisted back. Her voice was small and mousey, she seemed so shy. Why would she be? She screams confidence and power. Even in her apprehensive movements, she seems calculated, he thought to himself. He stole another glance at her. Her eyes sparkled reminiscent of a smokey quartz gem in a bracelet he once saw in a shop window. A thought of her adorned in nothing but gems crossed his mind. He tried to hold onto the image before it left his mind's eye. He felt a flush in his cheeks again, and his eyes darted. He couldn't look her in the eyes for too long. It made him nervous. He was working up the urge to speak again, to say something, anything. Â
He broke the silence and asked, "So what brings you to ride the subway so late at night? Aren't you scared?" He uttered jokingly. After saying it, he felt immediate stupidity. Why would I say that? He thought and started an inner spiral. As if seeing his reaction to his own question and wanting to ease the tension building within him, Y/N said, " Well, I work at the Gotham shelter overnight. So, having to ride the train every night, I guess, I've gotten used to it for the most part. But, yeah, I do get scared sometimes. The city can be super sketchy, and I've been attacked twice already, so I had to buy mace and stuff to try and protect myself."Â Â
The words spilled out of her mouth like a wave of glass, he couldn't fathom her ever saying this of all things, it was jolting for him and triggered something within him he had tried so long to hide. His mind raced. He felt anger and rage well up inside of him it hardened his sternum and burned in his throat. He became stiff but was unaware. The spiraling began to start again. This city was ruining people, hurting people, good people! He thought. She helps people, and then people hurt her?! Pieces of shit! He screamed internally. The emotions he felt were at war within himself. He felt rage for her pain and suffering at the hands of this city's denizens, he felt fear for her life knowing she rides the train every night, he felt regret, why couldn't he have been there to help, to do something? He all but took the pain on as his own, it soaked through to his core. He too had been at the mercy of some of the worst people he has ever had the displeasure of encountering in this god forsaken city, he too had been attacked, hurt, mercilessly tortured by these fucking terrible people. Â
Lost in his train of thought and looking straight ahead he couldn't help but sternly say in sympathy "These people are just fucking terrible!" She must have noticed his change in demeanor at this declaration. He suddenly felt a warmth cross his leg, and lightly squeeze. It was smooth and comforting. His concentration broke completely. Pulled out of a trance by her as if the thoughts were just zapped out of his brain. His eyes quickly darted back to her where they followed the length of her shoulder, to her arm, and from her arm to her hand that rested upon his thigh. He felt the muscles in his face relax, his shoulders dropped, jaw unclenched. The sheer power she had over him he thought. The warmth emanating off of her palm was like security, a blanket of nostalgia. He couldn't remember the last time he felt what felt like love, like connection, or attachment. He couldn't help but see flashes of images in his mind, her moving her hand closer to his cock which had began to throb. He tried to brush away those thoughts but they plagued him. She was touching him. Something that never happens to him. He immediately craved her touch, he wanted more, he wondered how that would be possible. He thought this couldn't be real. Not this time. Â
Once again, breaking his thought pattern she spoke, and he gave her his full attention. "Yeah, but I'm ok now!" She said in a reassuring tone. Her voice, like petals on velvet. Soft, gentle. "You're here now! And so, I feel safe." Safe? He thought, with me? Like she trusts me? He could feel the negative thoughts start to brim to the surface of his mind but quelled them by responding instead. He needed clarification. The words she spoke just didn't make sense to him. He couldn't see why she would or should trust him, although he so badly wanted her to, for this to be true, he needed it to be. He suddenly felt the urge to never leave her, to always be by her side. He would watch, he would follow, and he would do anything for her. Â
He only imagined what it would be like to know her both romantically and intimately. "You feel safe? W-with me?" He spoke haphazardly, unsure of the answer he wanted to hear, hoped to hear. "I do." She looked into his eyes sincerely. His heart leapt into his throat; he couldn't breathe. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to grab her, to feel her against him. He shifted his legs at the thought. Looking up at him like that weakened him in so many ways. Most noticeably, in his pants, where he tried to conceal the results of his dirty thoughts. "Then I will protect you Y/N" he proclaimed proudly. A shy smile touched her lips and she continued to gaze into his eyes. He smiled back. I make her feel safe, he thought. She is comfortable in my presence. No one even bothers talking to me, no one ever wants to talk to me. He had the urge to speak once more but couldn't find the words. Â
Before either of them could speak, the subway speaker rang out once again in that barely audible robotic toned voice announcing the next stop as the harsh brakes squeaked heavily to a stop. As if anticipating her to leave, he just as quickly stood up and offered out his hand. "Thank you," her voice sang. She turned to face him, her small stature looking up at him once more. He held his composure but felt the heat well up inside him. "It was so nice having someone to ride the train with tonight for a change!" She cheerfully exclaimed with a smile. Â
She had grabbed her things and had let go of his hand. What sweet bliss it was for the few seconds he had held it. Her fingers, so dainty and soft. The train screeched to a halt, and he instinctively grabbed her hand again and put his other hand at the small of her back to steady her. He could feel the soft curve of her spine. He slowly moved a pinky closer, hoping she wouldn't notice, tracing the line of her jeans as he did, feeling the line of her panty through the fabric. He quickly pulled away as she exited the train. He had held back. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to turn her around, grab her face and kiss her, shove her onto the subway seats, and have his way with her, make her cry out. He wanted her to miss work. He wanted her to quit! He wanted her all to himself. Â
This moment was too perfect. It felt like a dream. As she stepped off the platform and began to walk away, he stood as the doors shut, helplessly watching her as she slowly walked. Unable to stop time. As the train brakes hissed and cranked, he saw her stop and turn around. She had stepped to the doors, but it was too late. He watched on as her figure shrunk into the distance as the train traveled once again into the dark tunnel. He waved. He would see her again. He would make sure of that. Platform 19. He thought, I'll remember this time.Â
