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#[ I’m playing the game don’t mind my musing ]
spiderwarden · 6 months
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If there is ever doubt in her own skill, Minthara remembers that her mother wears scars from her own blade. Then all doubts melt away.
#[ 🕷️ ] —— musings#[ I’m playing the game don’t mind my musing ]#[ god I love House Baenre and what’s revealed through minth ]#[ Yvonnel ensures all of her children are just about more skilled than she so they will face the world dauntless ]#[ and I imagine that’s where Minthara gets her emotional approach from ]#[ which is a post I’ll make sometime but I get feelings over Yvonnel ]#[ and also the fact that Minthara in looks is a mini-copy/paste Yvonnel ]#[ a child who was loved and taught by her sisters and brothers ]#[ even to torture - her sister was the house interrogator and that’s where she learned it from ]#[ that’s the hard part because as much as Minth was also a victim of Drow culture she flourished and adored her own culture ]#[ she can see its faults but there is love lost there because she does LOVE her family ]#[ she will poison them and stab them on a moments notice but she will keep their memory close to her ]#[ the sister who taught her how to torture - the sister who taught her how to control her temper ]#[ the sister who taught her the magic behind her name sake ]#[ which if you didn’t know Minthara means ‘lesser rune’ in Drow ]#[ the sister who she thought hated her but she would throw treats at little minth and they weren’t poisoned ]#[ the brother who taught her swordplay and the brother who taught her how to watch and the third ]#[ in all of her resentment toward him? that third brother? would have taught her how to be open minded ]#[ the members of House Baenre walked so their little Minthara could run ]
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea
So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort
it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶
poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team
It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.
“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.
“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”
“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”
But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.
Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.
“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”
Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.
You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”
Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”
You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.
Perhaps more importantly, neither had James
“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.
“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.
“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.
“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.
“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.
“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.
“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”
“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.
“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”
You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”
With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.
The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.
As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.
Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.
Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.
In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.
“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.
With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.
You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.
Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.
You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.
Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.
Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.
There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.
There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.
The pressure became too much.
You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.
“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”
You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.
“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.
Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.
“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”
“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.
“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.
“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”
“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”
“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.
“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.
“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.
“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.
“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.
“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.
“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.
“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.
“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron. 
“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”
But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.
“Mr. Black.”
“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney. 
“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle. 
“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.” 
You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate. 
“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.
“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”
“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.
“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.
“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.
“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.
“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.
“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.
Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.
“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side. 
“I know.” He whispered back.
“So are you.” 
Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.
“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy. 
“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”
“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle. 
Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead. 
“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.
You nodded and offered him a small smile. 
Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.
“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”
He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.
“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.
James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.” 
You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Just sore.” You offered with a nod. 
“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 
You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching. 
“I need a healer!”
James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking. 
“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”
James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”
“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”
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capslocked · 7 months
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KINKVEMBER DAY: 4
[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words
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“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”
-
Here’s the truth:
Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.
"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."
(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)
You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.
Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.
"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."
She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:
"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."
-
Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.
There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a  pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.
You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.
Until,
"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -
And then it hits you.
"ah."
"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.
-
A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.
Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.
There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:
The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.
The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.
(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)
A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.
But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.
"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.
The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.
"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"
"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."
"Smooth."
"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."
Hyewon nearly snorts.
"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"
"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.
Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."
Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.
"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."
You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:
"Pretty."
It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.
"I know. That's what my husband calls me."
"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"
"Different day, different you."
"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."
It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."
"Women like you."
"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.
Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.
"Isn't it," she agrees.
The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -
And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.
But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.
"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.
You blink, drawing her out.
"They know how to tie a knot."
There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.
(What a character, honestly.)
"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."
Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."
You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."
"Never said as much either."
“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”
Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”
"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."
She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.
"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."
So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.
Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.
"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"
That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.
(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)
When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.
"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."
"Mhmm."
"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."
"Like?" you continue to prod.
Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."
You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.
"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.
"I thought you'd never ask."
At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.
Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.
She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.
The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.
The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.
"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."
"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."
"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.
"Something like that."
Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.
And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.
"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."
"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.
"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.
You try to finish it for her:
"She likes it rough."
"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."
She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.
"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.
(Damn.)
Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.
It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:
"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."
She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.
"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.
It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -
She cums just like that.
Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.
"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.
"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."
Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"
"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"
You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.
You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.
And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -
"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"
And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.
(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)
"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."
"Four more floors."
-
Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.
"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"
This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.
See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.
It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.
Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.
You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.
"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.
And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -
"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."
“I don’t know that I am.”
Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.
"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."
You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.
But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:
"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"
"Say it again."
"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.
"Pushy."
"Gentle's got no appeal for us."
"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -
You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.
The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:
"Like that. Harder."
"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.
Her throat flinches: this shudder.
She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.
"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."
"Or talk?"
And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -
Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.
"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"
In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."
There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.
So you pull.
And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.
You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.
A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.
"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"
Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."
"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"
"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."
"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"
"My husband loves me."
"Then it seems-"
"He makes me cum with his hands alone."
Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.
"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."
"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"
A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight. 
You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.
You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.
"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."
There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.
(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)
With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.
Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.
You curse under your breath.
Hyewon fucking collapses.
It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.
"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"
Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.
It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"
You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.
Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.
"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"
She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.
"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"
And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:
"More-"
"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.
Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.
"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.
The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.
Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.
"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"
She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.
It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.
Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"
The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.
"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"
"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."
Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.
And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"
You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.
(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)
You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.
She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.
This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.
"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.
Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.
"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.
"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.
A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."
1K notes · View notes
jsluvtzu · 7 months
Text
late nights
g!p minatozaki sana x fem!reader
summary: you get a taste of her version of an after-party
cw: smut!!! really nasty smut!!!!!, somnophilia, breeding kink, honestly no plot, men dni
wc: 2k
a/n: wrote this while listening to muse by pnd anddd lemme tell yall… this fic is so muse coded
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you splashed your face with water one last time, pat drying it with a towel.
it was 11:24 pm on a friday night, and you decided to have a self-care night while your girlfriend drank her life away at a work party.
the song you had playing on the bluetooth speaker paused and got replaced with a now blaring ringtone.
you disconnected your phone from the speaker and answered it to hear the one voice you’ve missed all day.
“y/nnnn, my favorite girl everrr, hiiii”, sana’s slurred words and giggly tone filled the ear you held to your phone.
you chuckled at your girlfriend’s cute greeting, wondering how many shots of soju she’s had already.
“hii cutie, you having fun?”
“mmm i guess.. nayeon unnie keeps crying and telling me how pretty i am.”
you hummed and walked into your shared bedroom, switching the call to speakerphone and placing your phone on the bed.
“what’ve you been up to without me?”
“i just finished getting ready for bed, that’s all.”, you missed being able to have some time to yourself, but you missed your girlfriend more.
“yeah? what else did you do?”
you heard shuffling noises and small grunts over the phone, but thought nothing of it as you took your sleep shorts off, sliding into bed with nothing on other than sana’s oversized tee.
“hmm, i cleaned a little, took a nice, hot shower, did a face mask, and-“
sana interrupted your rambling with louder groans and you finally realized what she was doing.
“mhm, keep talking for me baby.”
your cheeks burned up immediately at the thought of sana touching herself to the sound of your voice.
“sana.. aren’t there people around you right now?”
“i’m in a stall love. don’t worry about me, ‘just wanna hear your pretty voice.”
“why don’t you just come home and let me help you? it’ll feel so much better, i promise.”, your mind getting filled with dirtier thoughts by the minute.
“fuck, i can’t baby, not yet. jeongie wants us to play some dumb drinking game.”
you groaned in annoyance and pulled the comforter higher up your body.
“i know, ‘m sorry baby, i’ll be home in an hour or two, okay?”
“mhm, whatever..”, you knew that was a lie. every time sana went out with her coworkers, it would always be an all night thing.
unfortunately, sana got you all needy for her from just one phone call, but she wasn’t there to help you relieve your urges.
you turned to lay on your side and rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the throbbing pain between your legs.
“shit, i gotta go y/n, just wait for me. i’ll be home soon and make you feel better, yeah?”
reluctantly, you agreed and hung up the phone, placing it on your nightstand and turning on a random show on the tv, putting the volume on low.
the dim light from the living room was the only source of light that shined through your open door, the warm ambience calming you into a state of drowsiness.
you fought with yourself to keep your eyes open in hopes that sana would actually keep her promise and come home at a reasonable time.
that fight ended rather quickly.
several hours had passed when sana finally came home, extremely drunk and horny.
she stumbled her way through the hallways, bumping into anything and everything in sight.
when she got to the doorway of your shared room, she stopped and held the door frame, stabling herself.
she stood there, staring and observing your peacefully sleeping figure.
you were laying stomach faced down and had one leg hanging out of the blanket, ass fully on display for her.
sana pushed herself off the wall and carefully approached the bed, trying her best not to make any noise.
not that it would wake you up anyways, you were always a pretty heavy sleeper.
as she made her way over to you, she kept her eyes locked on your visibly wet pussy, simultaneously slipping out of her leather jacket.
she got close enough to brush her fingers over your ankle all the way up to your waist, and up again to your face, softly caressing your cheek with the side of her finger.
your messy hair covering half your face. your soft, deep breathing and curved figure. you sobered sana up better than a good night’s sleep could.
she had a moment of clarity. never having thoughts any clearer than right now.
she needed to fuck you. just like this.
sana reached her free hand down her crotch to unzip her jeans, fishing her own cock out in hand.
it wasn’t enough to just stand there and stroke herself to the mere sight of you, she needed to use you.
she stood up straight and lifted one leg up and over the bed, clumsily straddling herself over your legs on her knees.
her skinny jeans were limiting her movement, so she pulled them and her boxers further down her thighs, allowing them to pool at her knees.
sana’s cock was hurting at this point, just eager to have your tight walls wrapped around her.
she ran her tip along your puffy folds, collecting your previous arousal on it and mixing it with her leaking precum.
soft moans escaped her lips when she accidentally dipped herself inside you, throwing her head back and biting her lip, relishing the moment.
“fuck y/n, you’ve just been here all wet and ready for me, huh? poor baby must’ve been so tired, she couldn’t even stay up a few more hours.”, sana whispered.
she was mumbling the filthiest things and having a whole conversation with herself.
“i know this is wrong love, i shouldn’t be this hard when i see you laid out like this. lookin’ all pretty for me while you’re sleeping.”
sana slid your shirt up your back as far as she could without lifting your body, losing her grip on reality when she saw the way your back was slightly arched.
“arching for me even in your sleep? fuck baby, you want this. yeah, you were waiting for this. just waiting for me to take advantage of you when you can’t tell me yourself.”
sana rubbed her hands over your ass, gently massaging your flesh.
“ ‘this why you wanted me to come home so bad? so i could fuck you out of your dreams? wake you up with my dick so fucking deep inside your pussy? huh? my pretty girl..”
you let out a small, short grunt, stretching and adjusting your position, still fully asleep.
sana paused her movements in fear that she woke you up before her fun started, but she smiled when she realized you actually had no clue what was going on, subconsciously angling yourself at an even better position for her.
“look at that.. poor needy little thing just begging to be fucked even when she’s unconscious. how cute..”
she tapped her cock up against your clit a couple times before she ran through your slit down to your entrance, inching herself inside.
dragging out her slow thrust, she made sure to feel every single bit of you, taking in how your pussy stretched around her thick, long cock.
she let out a low groan when she hit your cervix, the whole length of her cock disappeared from view.
“shit.. y/n. you take me so fucking well. god, look at you baby.”
she pulled out of you at the same leisurely pace with no struggle, given how wet you already were.
sana lifted up her t-shirt with her left hand, bunching it up just above her breasts, her abs flexing with every breath she took.
her right hand stayed on the small of your back, holding you in place while she teased herself inside of you, thrusting in and out of you painfully slow.
“you feel so good like this, y/n. fuck, you were right. i should’ve just- fuck- came home and let you help me.”
her pace was getting sloppier, words struggling to become coherent.
“still not awake yet, love? better be dreaming of me if you’re sleeping this good.”
sana was closer to cumming than she thought, her neediness getting the best of her.
she leaned over your figure, hands landing on either side of you, lowering herself to fuck you at an insane pace.
“ ‘gna put a fucking baby in this pretty little pussy.”
you heard her voice right in your ear, slightly stirring out of your sleep.
sana moved her hips in an uncoordinated and messy rhythm, her drunkenness still apparent.
her thrusts were heavy, the whole bed shaking when she started fucking into you roughly.
you were almost fully awake now, feeling how full of your girlfriend’s cock you were, moaning lightly at the way sana pushed up against your sweet spot.
“s- sana..”
“aww, is my baby finally up? change your mind?”
sana stopped and waited for your approval, or any sign that you were genuinely uncomfortable.
“no, please. keep going..”
she leaned down to kiss your cheek, moving down to your neck, the smell of alcohol on her breath pungent.
“i knew you wanted it, baby. such a pretty fucking slut for me. you’d let me use you anytime, wouldn’t you?”
your breathy moans and whines encouraged sana to fuck you even faster than before, her growing urge to cum inside you being the only thing on her mind.
sana straightened herself back up and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to her so that you were supported on your knees, face still down on your pillow.
her bruising grip stayed on both sides of your waist, resuming her animalistic speed.
you clutched onto the sheets below you, screaming out in pleasure into your silk pillow.
sana hated that your moans were muffled, she needed to hear every pretty sound you made.
her right hand left your side and made its way up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of your strands, yanking forcefully until you were flush up against her.
you yelped at her roughness, moaning at the way it turned you on twice as much.
“fuck, sana. just like that, fuck- please don’t fucking stop.”
“yeah? you like it when i fuck you like the toy you are? hm? ‘love it when i use you like a fucking fleshlight. dumb slut can’t even think right when i’m fuckin’ her this good.”
you moaned uncontrollably at sana’s words, your mind going blurrier and blurrier.
both you and sana’s moans were in sync, a perfect harmony.
“shit- i’m so fucking close y/n. ‘gna fucking cum inside you.”
“fuck, please, yes, please, i can take it, ‘just fucking get me pregnant.”
you didn’t even realize what you said, too fucked out to think rationally.
sana was basically growling in your ear, holding you tightly against her with her arms wrapped around your waist.
she let her grip on you go, flipping you over and pushing you down on your back, thrusting into you inhumanly fast.
tears rolled out the corners of your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming you.
sana’s hands wrapped around your throat, her eyes staring deeply into yours and her mouth slightly open, letting out short groans and curses.
“fuck fuck fuck, ‘m gonna cum, oh fuck-“
sana slammed her hips down, stilling her movements and moaning every time her cum pulsed out of her cock.
you felt her warm liquid filling you up, whining at the way her dick twitched inside you.
her hands loosened from your neck, her body crashing down onto yours as she tried to catch her breath.
she didn’t pull out yet, her dick too sensitive to move.
you reached your hands up to her hair, raking your fingers through her tangles, stroking her head gently.
the sleepiness was sneaking its way back to you, your eyes fluttering closed.
after a couple minutes of sana laying on top of you, she pulled out and looked up at you, kissing her way down your body.
she reached your sticky, cum-filled core, hovering over it with hungry eyes.
“let me clean you up, baby.”
you didn’t even care that sana stayed out too late anymore, she definitely made up for it.
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onestepfcrward · 2 years
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tag dump - 8/26/2022
i tricked myself into carrying on. — ✦ ic. i think you’re better off looking alone. — ✦ inbox. dear diary... life is trying me. — ✦ dash / disc comm. omega count how many sand is in this desert! — ✦ crack.
i never lose my confidence. — ✦ self. you never knew your mind was dark. — ✦ thoughts / musings. you can dig so deep for scars. — ✦ headcanons. one track mind‚ one track heart. — ✦ ramble / study. life is just begging to include you. — ✦ likes / aesthetics. using your headphones to drown out your mind. — ✦ music. can’t i get a sign? — ✦ memes / prompts. i can learn‚ no u-turn. — ✦ dash games.
i am some of me. — ✦ ooc. i know i’m gonna change that tune. — ✦ psa. back to the shadows with all i hold dear. — ✦ queued. don’t forget! — ✦ saved. every single one’s got a story to tell. — ✦ promo.
i just want to make a change. — ✦ main verse. i shake and i think about the powers at play. — ✦ future verse.
can you hear me from there? you’re not alone. — ✦ relations / team dark. i’ll give them shelter like you’ve done for me. — ✦ relations / sonic & co. it’s like forgetting the words to your favorite song. — ✦ relations / ark family. you never had a chance while i’m around. — ✦ relations / the adversary.
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pauli-writes · 2 months
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May I request an Aventurine with a reader who's a member of the Astral Express?
Have a nice day!
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warning: reader is suffering from nightmares, references to gambling (it’s aventurine after all), flirting
pairing: aventurine x reader
author’s note: this man has taken over my mind, i’m so excited for 2.1 !!! also thank you for requesting, sorry this took so long i had private matters to take care of :3 (this is once again not proofread and partially written at 3am)
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being quiet was never really your forte.
whenever you couldn’t sleep at the night you’d restlessly wonder around the astral express, the morning after dan heng would usually complain that you were too loud even though you were trying real hard to stay quiet.
now in the reverie, the hotel in penacony you were staying at, the space was much bigger and the occupants much more lively, not to mention dan heng wasn’t even with you, so he had no chance to complain.
another restless night and you wandered around the hotel. while other guests indulged in the dreamscape, you stayed in reality, afraid that the usual comfort of the dreamscape will twist into something ugly and gruesome for you because of your nightly terrors.
you looked around, most people were asleep, only a few guest were awake, sitting by the bar or enjoying the music. without your friends from the express you felt a little out of place.
“oh, and what do we have here?” a voice snapped you out of your self pity. you looked around, only to find that ipc guy from when you were checking in standing next to you, a golden coin being twirled in between his fingers. “aren’t you a member of the astral express? i think i saw you earlier...”
“i am…” you replied cautiously, not sure of his intentions. “you’re with the ipc, correct?”
he smirked, he threw his coin in the air before pocketing it. “yes. tell me something, why aren’t you dreaming with the rest of your friends?”
you tensed up, unsure of how much you should reveal to him. you didn’t even know his name yet. “i don’t sleep well.”
he paused, looking at you curiously. “do you now?”
“yes.” you said defensively and slightly annoyed. he wasn’t exactly making a good first impression on you despite his rather attractive appearance. “why aren’t you dreaming?”
“let’s just say i have business to take care of first,” he replied, in the same breath he pulled out a pack of cards. “although i have some time to kill until my meeting, care for a game?”
you thought for a moment, before nodding. “it’s not like i have anything better to do…”
the blond smiled and started shuffling the cards with his skilful fingers, you didn’t even know what game you were playing yet, but found yourself at least slightly interested. you gained your hand and he explained the rules, but a few turns in it was apparent that he was much better than you. he won easily.
you sighed and gave him his cards back. “you don’t mess around, huh?”
he chuckled, “of course not. i play to win.”
“even without a wager,” you mused with a smile, watching as he put the cards away. he chuckled too.
“i have too leave now. it was nice meeting you, i hope to see you again, sweetheart.” he flashed you a charming smile and a wink.
you rolled your eyes playfully, “you don’t even know my name, i doubt you’d even remember me.”
“oh, i think it’d be impossible not to remember you. you’re very unique believe it or not.” he stepped closer to you, it was then that you noticed how he was slightly taller than you. you opened your mouth to give him another snarky remark, but was stopped as he pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek. as he pulled away you could feel your face heating up.
“cute.” he said with a chuckle as he stepped away from you, “we’ll meet again after everything is over. i promise you that.”
he walked away, giving you a nonchalant wave over his shoulder and leaving you sitting at the bar with a bright red face. you watched him walk up the stairs, disappearing down the hallways leading to the rooms.
once he was out of your sight you calmed down a bit and gathered your thoughts, it was then that you noticed that there was a foreign object in the pocket of your coat. you grabbed it and looked at it, it was a playing card, queen of hearts, on the back scribbled with a golden pen was:
something to remember me by
- aventurine
you couldn’t help but grin and pocketed the card, just in that moment you saw mr. yang and himiko walk down the stairs talking animatedly. did you really spend the entire night awake…?
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venuzasmuse · 2 months
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ELLIE WILLIAMS HEADCANONS
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( divider creds: @gigittamic )
WHAT’S HER LOVE LANGUAGE right off the bat, her love languages would be a mix of acts of service, physical touch, and she is definitely big on quality time. she’s such a sweetie pie she’s the type of gf to make her partner her muse for EVERYTHINGGG. whether it’s the songs she writes, the paintings she makes.. she’d make sure you know her depth of love for you above surface level and this is definitely expressed through her art.
WHAT’S HER OCCUPATION we all know ellie plays guitar but for some reason i’m obsessed with the idea of her being an underground guitarist that sings at open mic shows. like in some alternate universe, you were definitely a bartender at some saloon and met her at one of the shows she was performing at during a long, hourly shift. BUT if we’re talking on a college level degree way, she’d DEFINITELY be an astrophysics major. also a plus: she would have random niche posters or articles about space hung up around her dorm room like a geek.
HER STYLE i’ve been dying to go off on a tangent about this one. ELLIE DRESSES LIKE A DIVORCED DAD. (she takes after joel wbk) like all homegirl has in her closet is a bunch of baggy levi pants, flannels, and probably the same shirt in different colors. and do not get me started on those beat up, biohazardous converses that are still somehow in tact.
here are some reference pictures because i’m in love with this hc, actually.
link
link
link
not only does she dress like a divorced dad, her music taste emulates this as well. matter a fact, in a modern au, she’d have billy joel’s entire discography MEMORIZED because of joel.
HOW SHE ACTS WHEN SHES JEALOUS i know it’s probably easy to write her off as brooding and cold (esp when she’s jealous) but i feel like she’d def be really closed off about her jealousy. like don’t get me wrong. she’d definitely make it known to you at SOME point but let’s not forget about how awkward she got when dina was hugging up on jesse in the game and she was just in the back twitching around all bothered.
anyways this was really short but i’ve had these hcs on my mind for the longest :C but this was sm fun to make ajjsjd
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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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If you’re still in the mood, could you write something for my camp!Steve fav boyfriend? I love him so much🧡🥹
18+
“I can’t believe you managed to lose an oar.”
Steve huffed, squinting at you in the sunlight from his seat across from you. The small rowboat was almost floating in circles now as the second oar disappeared downstream.
“You say that as if it was my fault,” Steve grunted, trying his best to steer the boat in the direction of the camp, with no real success.
You snorted, poking a toe into the boy’s stomach, your shoes abandoned in favour of lying back on the bench under the sun, your dress hiked up high on your thighs to feel the warmth. “It was,” you laughed, squealing when Steve grabbed your foot and squeezed.
“Just as well it’s our day off,” Steve mused. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare on the water, craning his neck to see the lump in the distance that was Camp Upside Down. “I don’t think we’re getting back anytime soon. The current isn’t on our side.”
You sighed, too dramatically for you boyfriend to think you were actually annoyed. You sat up, stretching before leaning back against the wooden sides. “What a shame,” you pouted, pushing your sunglasses - Steve’s sunglasses - onto your head. “However shall we waste our time?”
Steve didn’t get a chance to ask what you had in mind before you were bringing one foot up to prop against his knee. The skirt of your summer dress falling to the tops of your thighs, smooth skin exposed under his gaze. His brows shot up, his hand slipping on the remaining oar before he swore, grappling before it slipping into the water too.
“Easy, sailor,” you laughed, grinning at his excitement. His cheeks were pink, rosier than before when only the sun affected them. “You okay there?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved away your concerns, his free hand slipping over your calf, bringing your foot to lean higher on his thigh, your legs falling open further. “I’m fine, keep going, baby, don’t let me stop you.”
You snorted, all affection but you continued like you’d planned, fingertips trailing over your own legs to bring your dress up higher, spread thighs showing off the bikini briefs you hadn’t gotten to get wet yet. A forest green colour, tied at the sides of your hips and so, so easy to make fall apart. You fingered the ribbons, teasing, eyes on Steve’s as his lips fell open at the mere suggestion of you baring yourself to him so publicly.
“Babe, you’re gonna fucking kill me.”
“Boo,” you pouted, brows drawn together. “Here I was, just getting used to having you around.”
Steve scoffed, a choked laugh that trailed into a groan because you were sliding two fingers across your covered cunt. “Normally I’d have something smart to say to that,” Steve breathed, “but there’s like, no blood in my brain right now.”
Grinning, you let your foot trail to his crotch, pushing a little at his hard cock through his sport shorts. You played dumb, head cocked to the side as you leaned back onto your elbow. “I wonder where it’s went to?”
“Princess—” Steve warned.
“Harrington,” you bit back.
“C’mon,” he pleaded. His hands were back on your leg, rough and warm and wrapping around your calf until his fingers were trailing upupup and tracing the edge of your bikini briefs. “Gonna lemme see?”
You pulled at one side of the strings, the material falling loose and exposing one hip. Steve swallowed audibly. It would be too easy to pull the green fabric to the side, to let him see how wry you were, how much you loved the idea of him getting to see you like this out in the open. How much you got off on putting on a show for him.
How much you loved to win.
“Say please, pretty boy,” you asked him prettily, your voice all soft and saccharine.
Steve glared at you, knowing this game, knowing you always won. He swore when you pulled your dress higher, a small hand running down the soft pudge of your navel until your fingers dipped into the briefs, toying with your folds. You moaned, eyes fluttering, tongue on show as you brought the same fingers to your lips.
You made a show of licking your digits, sucking one into your mouth as you met his gaze, acting coy, feeling triumphant.
“Please, princess,” Steve rasped out, his cock pressed hard to his shorts, twitching for your attention. “Please?”
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daydreaming-nerd · 3 months
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Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)
AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol 
Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight. 
Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint? 
Word Count: 2496
(all pics are from pinterest) 
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Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata. 
Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that. 
“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder. 
“I am not tense,” I gritted out. 
“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage. 
“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass. 
Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine. 
I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again. 
“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name. 
“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.
“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore. 
“You should get him back,” Cassian muses. 
“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s. 
“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again. 
“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass. 
“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed. 
I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see. 
“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special. 
“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag. 
Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now. 
“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh. 
“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains. 
“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm. 
“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.
��Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there. 
“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.
I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target. 
“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.    
“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.” 
Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well. 
“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.  
“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.       
I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow. 
“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear. 
“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink. 
“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze. 
“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off. 
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When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me. 
A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.
I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me. 
“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over. 
“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch. 
He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?” 
“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis. 
Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief. 
“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian. 
“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. 
“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.” 
“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.
“Yeah right,” I scoff. 
“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm. 
“Oh really?” I sneer. 
“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”  
“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body. 
“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation. 
“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue. 
“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows. 
I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man. 
“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?
“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.  
“Azriel I-” 
“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed. 
“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.
 “Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye. 
“Azriel I love you,” I confess. 
He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap. 
“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine. 
“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained. 
“You have all of me y/n,  you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin. 
“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me. 
I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders. 
“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress. 
I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock. 
“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me. 
“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back. 
The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim. 
“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.
“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into. 
“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head. 
“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace. 
“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride. 
“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.
“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.
Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh. 
He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me. 
“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering. 
“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest. 
“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned. 
“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh. 
“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.
“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit  the far wall of my room. 
“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.” 
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anadiasmount · 4 months
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just friends? or more? - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: interviews and late night talks. but it’s always hard to see your best friend leave for his away games. no matter the distance or duration.
wc: 3k | masterlist | jude's masterlist
psa🗣️: happy new year everyone, hope everyone is doing okay! 🤍 mixed a request with my own imagination. this was supposed to be a small blurb but I ended up writing more. best friends to lover trope 🫂 🧟‍♀️ hope you enjoy! 🤍
“it must be an excitement to see him play at this level and talent?” the journalist asked you, to which you nodded and smiled. “it’s quite a pleasure honestly. it’s what he’s always wanted and we couldn’t be more proud,” you replied calmly not knowing where exactly to look at. 
your eyes glanced from her, to the camera and then jude who was walking back from the tunnels. “recalling all his goals from this current season, which one has been your favorite? could there be a sort of muse to inspire and motivate him to this level?” she asked curiously, leaving you thinking. 
“my favorite probably, okay wait actually i don’t know if i wanna say because i don’t want to get dragged, but it was special to see him win his debut here in the bernabeu, even if it was a tap in,” you laugh, “his goal against napoli and barcelona are one for the books as well.” you kept glancing behind her to see jude standing there cockily, arms crossed with a smirk plastered on his face. 
“as for a muse, i’d say himself and the people around him whether it’s friends or family even the fans. with the constant support and wins, seeing how the team reflects, how he can do more. overall i think it’s just him and the healthy mentality he has,” you say shyly, nodding your head as you spoke, jude then decided to intervene. 
“erm excuse me? this is my interview,” you say in a teasing manner, stepping on your tiptoes to reach his hug. “i apologize. just wanted to come over and say hi,” jude says playfully making everyone smile. “we were just asking y/n about if there could be a certain muse to make you perform at this level. is there anything you would like to say about that?” the journalist asks. 
jude scratches his brow and looks down smiling, “well to be honest there is someone…but for privacy reasons or maybe to not jinx it, i’ll keep it hidden… they’re truly wonderful and inspire me to do my best every time,” he says with a huge grin looking down to you where you stand. your eyes connected and for a second maybe he was dedicating this to you? you thought. 
as the journalist wrapped up her interview the two of you teased and joked around, answering her questions politely and respectfully, making sure to wish her the best of luck and a small be careful. the thoughts of him having a ‘muse’ still didn’t go away from your head.  if he was referring to you or if there was someone he had yet to tell you about. 
jude was always private with his life, but around you he couldn’t stop yapping, always with a smile in his face when he spoke about him. but this had you questioning just a bit, if there was more to your close friendship. to his longer and more intense stares towards you, his touch on your waist when out together, always asking to stay longer and cuddle. 
it wasn’t just you who had noticed it, his teammates as well, often teasing both of you especially jude as you would hear it when he called you after training. don't even get started on the media, replays, and many comments on the two of you when together, always asking if you were dating, or saying they lived for your friendship.
there was something different and you couldn’t avoid it any longer, being left confused with your feelings. it began to feel like love. you can’t love your best friend, you couldn’t take a risk like that.  
“you’re awfully quiet? something in your mind? i know something’s up so don’t say it’s anything,” jude remarked, squinting his eyes. you let a soft chuckle out and turned to face him, “i’m just tired… also i was reading some of the comments from our interview,” you lied offering a quick smile and showing him your open instagram page. he raised his brow and got out the car. 
you trailed behind him to where you were greeted to a quiet home. jude quickly slipped on some slides and dropped his bag in the mud room. you took of your shoes and walked into the kitchen to prepare some dinner for the two of you. as you glanced around you felt jude hug you from behind, his face leveled next to yours making you jump. “fridge is full?” he asked.
“oh yeah. i went grocery shopping and brought the necessities! refilled the fridge, got toothpaste, and i also got you those scooby doo cookies you love so much,” your hand interlocked with his that was around your waist as you pointed to the cabinet above you. just then you realized how close the two of you were. 
it felt like you had moved in, and shared a house together. you never ever had shared a bed, but for the past month you had, waking up with jude on top of you or your back next to his chest. having breakfast daily together and him waiting for you to come back from uni or work. hanging out more than usual, cuddling more than usual. the his and hers titles applying to the two of you, when brushing your teeth, your mugs, sharing clothes, having your shoes aligned by the door. 
jude felt you tense asking what was wrong but you shook your head, “after dinner, i might go home,” you tell him watching the smile disappear from his face. “what? why? do you want me to go with you? you should just stay it's already late, i want to you to stay” jude insisted, making up different reasons as to why you should stay the night. 
it’s not that you didn't want to be with jude tonight, you did, to feel him hold you and kiss your head at night. but the thought of acting like a couple, with no label, with your best friend made you freakout, because what if how you felt wasn't how he did? what if you read the cards wrong and it was only you who fell over heels for your best friend? what if he didn't love you like you did? 
“i’ll think about it, i said i might go, still debating, i haven't seen the roomies in a while and we want to have a girls night,” you said trying to calm the panic that overtook his body. “i don’t mind joining, you guys just do spa night, drink wine, and talk, i’ll be like one of the girls…” jude shrugged jokingly, making your eyes roll playfully. 
“okay decide what you want to eat so we can start cooking,” you recalled, grabbing a pan and heating up some oil. jude played his old songs playlist, singing along to the songs you remembered, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he led you to dance in the middle of the kitchen, his soft brown eyes never leaving yours as he sang happily. would this be what it felt like to be a couple? 
the tv show played softly on the background, jude fast asleep on your chest letting out small snores. he refused to let you leave as the time you had finished eating and talking was super late, leaving with no choice but to stay once again. it felt like home, jude felt like your home, they way you fit perfectly in each other's arms. you turn the tv off, squinting your eyes in confusion as you saw his phone ping. 
jocelyn:
thanks for the other day! hope we can see each other again, had so much fun! 
your heart sank looking back at jude who was still sound asleep on your chest, feeling your eyes burn with tears and your stomach sink further down. you controlled your breathing, feeling stupid and naive for actually believing and falling for him. it wasn't his fault, it was you for letting yourself believe there could be something. you would never be his, there was already someone else in his life to fill your spot. 
you were able to manage to sneak off the next morning without a word or budge from jude, feeling trapped and claustrophobic around him when he hugged you from behind. you couldn't stop thinking about his words from yesterday's interview and his ‘muse’, the way his touch still burned on your skin, the way he hid a girl from you. it felt like you were the other woman even though you had no clue who she was. 
you fiddled with your keys, opening the door to a silent home once again, darting straight to your room where you fell onto your beg with small whimpers and sobs, crying over a boy. you weren't able to sleep last night, so you didn't even feel when you fell asleep, forgetting about reality for the day. 
jude was left confused and curious as to why you weren't there, next to him. he called and called, texting you over and over again, becoming worried when there was no response from you. he was unable to focus during recovery and training session, thinking of how you suddenly left, and how distant and tense you were yesterday. he wondered if you had school, or if you something came up with your roommates. 
jude wanted to hang out before he had to travel away for the weekend. spend as much time with you. his head should be focused on winning and on the team to advance in the ‘copa del rey’ but he couldn't when he hadn't heard from you. 
jude was deep in. as every day went by his love for you grew more and more, knowing it could be risk for your friendship. he had the urge to just yell out how much he loved you, how badly he wanted to call you his, to finally stop playing around and put a label. it was hard to read you and that killed him more. feeling hopeless and desperate, he called again quickly listening to your voicemail. 
you had jude’s head spinning, heart skipping beats at the thought of you, and he was left with no choice but to show up the day before he left at your doorstep. your eyes frantically roamed jude who stood with a serious look on his face, almost shutting the door at him out of nervousness. jude let himself in, turning to you quickly brows drawn in. “is there a reason why you are not answering your phone?” he asked seriously, no taint of playing around. 
“i needed to catch up on some uni work. i have so much to do still, and i wanted to focus on getting the hard part out first,” you say unsure, as his brows draw in with bewilderment. 
“but yet couldn't answer one phone call from me?”
“jude-”
“i’ve been left worried, thinking if you were okay after you randomly left without saying anything? i don't like you shutting me out y/n, i understand you were busy but a text even would’ve taken me out of my misery,” jude huffed letting out a sign of disappointment, walking to the couch and staring at your study layout. books and books, open pages of your notes, and your laptop that sounded louder than usual. 
“i just wanted to give you space and time for yourself. i don't wanna seem clingy or attached because all we've done for the past month is be together at house. i just thought you might’ve wanted to do something else with your teammates or other people,” you say embarrassed, daring to spill the girls name from the other night. 
“well you thought wrong, the only person i want to be with is you. i wanted to see you before i left tomorrow,” jude said with a small frown, hands digging into his hands. ‘the only person i want to be with is you’ should have not stung like it did, the ache in your chest as you heard him say that, bitting your lip to hold back the tears that wanted to build up. though you were stronger than that. 
“what about jocelyn?” you asked carefully being met with a quiet jude, giving you a questioning look. “what about her?” maybe it was the way he had said it or the fact he was upset but you now regretted bringing her up knowing it had triggered something. “didn’t she mention-” you were cut off by jude.
“jocelyn is my stylist when i’m here in madrid. she invited me to have brunch with her and her girlfriend when you were taking a midterm this week. I didnt mention it because it was a fast meal, just food and talking,” jude said. you felt utterly stupid and left more embarrassed than before, wanting to punch yourself for quickly making up assumptions instead of asking for clarification. 
“oh.”
“wait.. how do you know about jocelyn? did you think something else?” jude asked, lifting his head from his hands. you rubbed your shoulder anxiously not knowing how exactly to respond, “you mentioned her the other day, i just assumed,” you lied quickly, “also i saw her message the other night i stayed over.” jude had caught you, and now he wasn't going to let the opportunity to go to waste. “
“so that's what this is about?” 
“i don't know what you're talking about…” you shrugged quickly, dismissing his tone. 
jude ushered you to come over, and like a puppet you quickly followed his request. you stood in the middle on his legs that were spread, shifting your weight from one foot to another, contemplating what to say or where to look. “you thought jocelyn meant something else to me didn't you…” jude asked to which you nodded slowly. 
“would have it bothered you if it did? if she did mean something to me?” he asked softly, watching as your eyes looked around and landed on his, you let out a small “yes” in a quiet tone, jude smirking. 
“well, it’s a good thing you don't have to worry about that. jocelyn doesn't mean anything, and the only person who does to me is you,” jude spoke softly, you shuddered a breath as you felt his fingertips trace from your calves all the way up behind your thighs, making you lose balance and grip his shoulder to regain it. “jude-” you warn again, but quickly gulp as he repeated his actions. 
“the way you smile, the way you hold my hand, the way your eyes glimmer when you let me rant about anything. i love it all. the only person who makes me feel like that is you… all i want is you, y/n. to have and to hold, to love and cherish, to protect and kept by my side forever,” jude gripped your thighs and pulled you onto his lap where you gasped. 
“can’t you see that? hmm? can't you see how much i love you? how badly i want to make you mine and call you my girlfriend officially? they say it's forbidden to fall for your best friend, but who cares about those rules when what we have is real. a genuine love.” 
your lips pursed open, letting out a shaky breath before speaking again. he had that effect, leaving you breathless even if it was a small action. “this whole time i thought i had it wrong, and that it was just me who saw the sudden shift in our friendship. who felt the feelings. i know it was wrong from me to have assumed that when i have no right, but i thought there was someone else,” you reply. 
jude’s hands roamed your thighs, making you relax to his touch, “it drove me crazy two nights ago as i rethought our whole friendship. it felt not weird but it felt like we were living a life with no label placed, acting like a couple because we just felt the need to or we had just gotten that close. not only did it confuse me but also scared me, and it made me distant,” you continued. 
“what you feel here,” you pointed and touched his heart, “is what i feel here,” you then pointed to your heart, which was beating like crazy not only at revealed feelings but also the proximity you two were. “i want you to know that i can't stop thinking about you no matter where i am or if i’m this close to you,” you reassured him and yourself. that this was reality.  
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited to hear you say that… to say that you love me. everyone could see it, everyone teased us for it, but we were scared. but i’m not scared to take this risk, because it means i get to have you here and forever. to love you,” jude said making your eyes go glossy. 
“is this actually happening?” you laughed and sniffled, “because if it's not and i’m dreaming i’m going to be mad,” you say. “it's all real, i could pinch you if you want, to make you believe it? or i could kiss you to seal our relationship?” jude offered with a huge grin, making you raise your eyebrow. “you haven't even asked me to be your girlfriend yet,” you remark. 
“my beautiful y/n… do you want to be my girlfriend?” instead of replying, you sealed your answer with a kiss. a kiss that sealed also promises and your love forever. jude’s lips molded into yours, tugging him closer by his broad shoulders as his hands delicately rubbed along your thighs. he tasted like honey, not having enough by how gentle and passionate he was being with you. “my jude. my jude forever,” you say still kissing his lips as he smiled into it.
“i love you princess.”
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sluttywonwoo · 8 months
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congrats on 12k <3
minghao with the prompt “you look good with my hand around your throat” 🫢
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minghao grins as the bottle slows to a stop, its neck pointing right at him.
“alright, hao, truth or dare?” soonyoung asks.
everyone in the circle turns their attention toward the man in question in anticipation of his decision.
it was the second time the bottle hand landed on minghao tonight and the first time he had chosen truth.
“what’s your biggest kink?” chan had asked him.
“um, probably choking,” was minghao’s answer.
there were a couple of whistles and inappropriate comments but no one seemed fazed by his admission. no one except for you, that is.
heat rushed to your cheeks as soon as the words left his mouth and you suddenly felt very sweaty all over. thankfully, the others didn’t seem to notice your reaction, aside from minghao who had locked eyes with you from across the circle the second after he said it.
he’s looking at you again as he weighs the options in his mind, making you wonder if there’s some sort of game he’s playing that you’re not in on. was he zeroing in on you because his answer from the last round had made you a little bit flustered?
“dare.”
“i dare you to choke someone right now,” soonyoung says.
your eyes widen.
“you can either pick someone yourself or we’ll spin the bottle again to pick for you,” he adds.
are you really about to be forced to watch the guy you have a (slight) crush on choke someone else? you’re not sure if you can stomach it. you look away from minghao only to hear him call your name.
joshua, who had been sitting beside you, nudges your shoulder when you don’t move. “i think you’re supposed to go over to him,” he whispers.
“she doesn’t have to if it makes her uncomfortable,” minghao murmurs, gaze still steady on you.
“oh, no um, it’s okay,” you assure him. “it doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”
“then come here.”
he leans back on his hands while you crawl your way across the circle, hyperaware of everyone’s eyes on you. the tile floor is cold and rough on your palms but it helps to ground you as you inch closer and closer to the man whose hands will be around your neck in a matter of seconds.
“you can straddle my lap, i’ll help you,” minghao says when you reach him, quiet enough for only you to hear.
once situated, minghao glances over your shoulder at the rest of your friends.
“ready?” he asks them.
more whistling. that must mean yes.
“ready?” he asks you. you nod. “i need to hear you say it.”
“i’m ready, hao.”
“remember to breathe,” he whispers. “i’ve got you, okay?”
“o-okay.”
his knuckles brush your jaw as he wraps a hand around your neck, making you flinch.
“is this alright?”
“mhm.”
your eyes flutter shut as soon as he starts to apply pressure and it takes a good amount of strength not to start grinding down on him. fuck, you didn’t think it would feel this good.
“you look hot with my hand around your throat,” he muses quietly.
you whimper in response.
“shhh, don’t want everyone else to hear, do you? that would be kind of embarrassing, don’t you think?”
you’re startled by his teasing. he can tell from the way your eyes fly open and your hips twitch forward in his lap. and you can tell that he can tell because his lips curl into a smirk.
“don’t worry baby, after this we can find somewhere private and you can be as loud as you want while i choke you.”
12k celebration
668 notes · View notes
Text
Tri Harder
Chapter 2 ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
also on AO3 <3
Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo
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After an innocent party game, Geto & Gojo make it their mission to fuck you. That's it.
Ch 1 | Ch 3
fem reder, alcohol, provocative dancing, making out, semi public sexual activities, vaginal fingering, NOOOO ONE IS STRAIGHT ONCE AGAIN
~7k
MDNI
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When Shoko didn’t answer her phone the following Monday, Gojo knew there was only one place she would be. He always picked Geto up from work, but he wouldn’t be driving straight home today.
“We’re going to see Shoko.” Gojo was peeling off the pavement the moment Geto closed the passenger door. “I was knocking on her door earlier and she didn’t answer. Hasn’t answered my texts or calls either.”
“Yes, my day was fine,” Geto yawned, throwing his laptop bag into the back seat. “Thank you so much for asking.”
Gojo looked over at Geto who was donning a black, button down shirt with khaki chinos. For the past two years, he worked as an English teacher for highschool freshmen and sophomores after he graduated. 
Gojo on the other hand was working for his family’s accounting company, although even he would use the word working rather loosely. More like, he graduated from college because he had the resources to do so, but he knew money would never really be an issue. He worked from home mainly because he needed something to occupy his time while his friends were busy.
“How was your day, angel? ” Gojo teased, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as they arrived at a red light.
“If you want a nickname, you can just ask,” Geto laughed lightly. “No need for you to keep throwing this temper tantrum about it. You being all jealous is cute though, I’ll admit that.”
“Not jealous,” Gojo grumbled. “But you know what’s actually crazier than you accusing me of being jealous and throwing a temper tantrum?” He looked over and raised a brow for dramatic effect.
“I don’t know.” Geto shrugged. “But I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“The fact that you were telling me to be nice when you were busy being two fingers deep in someone you knew for like, an hour. ”
Geto contemplated his word choice before he spoke. “Well, she said thank you afterwards. For all intents and purposes, I was being extremely nice,” he reasoned. “I was providing a service, if you will.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Gojo shook his head as he continued driving. He wasn’t always the most careful driver, but was always mindful when Geto was in the car. The threat of being scolded for his driving skills had him obeying every traffic sign and speed limit until they reached their destination.
Gojo drove successfully without any criticism, and parked in front of the building. He and Geto got out of the car, Geto holding open the building door for them.
They made their way towards the back of the library where Shoko usually holed herself up and cut herself off from the rest of the world. Her head bobbed to whatever was playing in her headphones as she scrawled something in her notebook, highlighting it quickly afterwards.The table was littered with cans of empty energy drinks and candy wrappers, a telltale sign she had a big test coming up soon.
Geto pushed some of the empty cans aside so he could get a clear view of her. He then sank into the seat across the table from her while Gojo pulled out the chair next to her, spinning it around and sitting in it backwards. Gojo folded his arms over the top of the chair, looking in Geto’s direction to start the conversation.
“Shoko,” Geto mused, a gentle smile gracing his face. “Glad to see you’re alive and well after the party. You were fast asleep when we left.”
She looked up, capping her highlighter with a wistful smile on her face. “It was a great birthday.” She took one of her headphones out of her ears as she said your name. “I’m glad she took care of me and Utahime the next morning. I swear, we always get more fucked up whenever she’s around. Her and that damn cooler full of drinks.”
Gojo quickly cleared this throat at the mention of your name. “Oh, yeah! About–”
“No,” Shoko cut him off. 
Gojo felt like a deflated balloon careening through the air. “What the fuck?” His voice came out more frantic than he planned. “I didn’t even say anything.”
Shoko’s eyes traveled from Gojo’s to Geto’s, pointing an accusing finger at both of them. “Okay, you both listen then,” she demanded. “I’ll have you know that she is Utahime’s friend before she’s my friend. They were like, childhood neighbors or something. She just happened to go to the same med school as me,” she explained.
Gojo and Geto exchanged a look that told them everything they needed to know, but Shoko continued. “Utahime always says it's unfortunate enough that I know you two, and doesn’t want any more cross contamination.” She shrugged lazily. “That’s why you’ve never met her. For what it’s worth though, Utahime was super fucked up at my party, I don’t even think she remembers you two were there.”
Geto raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” He remembered very clearly being acknowledged by Utahime… and threatened several times.
“Well she normally always complains afterwards whenever you two happen to be around.” She spoke of Utahime’s distaste for the pair as if it were the most casual thing on the planet. “But in the morning she only talked about how much fun she had.” A sly smile played on her lips. “Anyway, don't start blaming me that you never met her friend and couldn’t… do whatever it is you two do.”
“Ugh,” Gojo groaned, throwing his head back in disbelief. That was cockblocking to another level. Preventing them from even wanting to meet you was utterly ridiculous. “What’s her problem?”
“I think she’s still pretty upset about the whole graduation dress thing… among other stuff,” Shoko reminded him.
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Graduation Day, Three years ago 
Gojo stood happily with Geto and Shoko on the day of graduation. Utahime bounded over to get in on the picture they were taking. She unzipped her gown, causing Gojo to let out an obscene gasp. 
“You just got a degree and that’s what you decided to wear?” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she growled, immediately clenching her fist. “I chose this dress months ago, and I look great.” 
Gojo rubbed the back of his neck, a grimace painting his face. “You should have chosen your dress years ago if this is what you went with after deciding for months.” 
Her lips formed a scowl and Geto’s voice interjected before she could say anything. “Satoru, not everyone is able to afford the style they want,” he reasoned. “She’s probably just working with the best she had available, you should be nice.” 
Her scowl deepened as she looked from Gojo to Geto. “And what is that supposed to mean?” she seethed. 
“Oh.” Geto was taken aback. “Was that dress actually your first choice?” 
“You two are the worst.” She stood next to Shoko. “I hate them.” 
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Gojo rolled his eyes. “That was eons ago. You don’t see me getting my torches and pitchforks ready every time she calls me a blue eyed, unblinking freak.” That was among the less colorful choice of words she had in her arsenal whenever she referred to Gojo.
“I’m still unsure where her animosity for me came from,” Geto mumbled, recalling the same dress situation. He truly thought it was just a last minute option, but he pushed the memory aside. That was Utahime’s issue, he was fishing for information about you. “So, what do you all do when you guys hang out?” he pressed gently. “It seemed like she already knew all our other mutual friends.”
Shoko shrugged. “Drink, hangout. Nothing crazy.” She tapped her chin with her highlighter. “We’re going out to some club this weekend since Kento and Yu are finishing their programs this semester. She might be there,” she teased.
“What club?” Gojo asked immediately.
“I don’t knooooow, ” Shoko sighed. “I can’t really seem to remember… if only I had a pack of cigarettes to jog my memory a bit…” Geto looked at Gojo and raised a brow. Gojo grumbled something unintelligible and took a twenty out of his wallet, sliding it to Shoko. “Well I’ll have to make sure I have enough to get Utahime drinks at the club too. Not like she would accept anything from the likes of you two.”
Gojo took a fifty out of his wallet this time, grumbling, “Do you remember the name of the club now?”
She let out another sigh as she said your name. “Well, she’s still my friend too, you know? I can’t get Utahime something without getting her something, that’s just rude.”
Gojo fished out another fifty along with some miscellaneous singles that were in his wallet and slid it toward her. Geto bit back a laugh as Gojo rolled his eyes. “Do you remember now?”
Shoko picked up the money with a nod. “It’s actually all coming back to me now.” She smiled at Gojo sweetly, “Club Phoenix at ten. You’ll probably want to come a little after that though, so Utahime is already drunk.”
“Can’t believe I had to give my friend over a hundred bucks to tell where she’d be hanging out this weekend,” Gojo groaned, shaking his head. “Something tells me we need to reevaluate this friendship.”
“Your own stupidity cost you…” she paused to count the money before pocketing it, “one hundred and twenty seven dollars.” She moved to start packing up her things. “Why didn’t either of you geniuses just ask for her number?” she laughed. 
Gojo’s face immediately fell, and Geto shot him with an equally blank stare. Shoko let out another laugh as she shoved her things into her bag. “Give me a ride home, would you?”
“Yeah, just use me again,” he mumbled. Gojo hated the unintentional comedian he became with the way Shoko’s sides were splitting with laughter, but he stood anyway and reoriented his chair to its original position. 
Geto picked up the empty cans and wrappers on the table, discarding them in a nearby garbage can. “Still find it hard to believe youre studying to be a doctor when you smoke and drink like a sailor.”
“It’s called duality.” The three got into Gojo’s car and he dropped Shoko off. She waved goodbye, still laughing as she said, “See you on Saturday!”
When Geto and Gojo returned back to their apartment, Gojo immediately flopped onto the couch with a groan. “Why didn’t you get your angel’s number?” he taunted. “Hmm?” 
Geto let out an easy laugh as he stripped off his shoes and slid into the kitchen. “I guess I was a bit too preoccupied to think about that.” He grabbed the chicken he seasoned the day before from the fridge along with some vegetables. He chopped the vegetables diligently as he preheated a skillet. “Doesn’t matter now though, we’re seeing her this weekend.”
“Too preoccupied?” Gojo scoffed. He got up from the couch and joined Geto in the kitchen. Plopping down on one of their dining room chairs, his hand cupped the side of his face and his elbow rested on the table. “Well I guess if I were in that closet for hours, I would have forgotten too.”
Geto slid the chopped vegetables into the pan, delighted by the fragrance of the onions and garlic as they began to sizzle. “By that logic, shouldn’t you have thought to get her number because you had less time?”
Gojo scrunched his nose. “Just shut up and cook.” He shook his head, unable to shake the conversation from earlier. “I still can’t believe Utahime is being so… vindictive.” 
Geto started to move the vegetables around in the skillet, adding the chicken once the vegetables were browned. “If she's still upset about that ugly dress, so be it.” He wasn’t as bothered by her dislike of him, he didn’t care about egging her on either. Referencing you, he said, “If she wants to be around us, she will. She’s met us now, I don’t see Utahime being a real obstacle.”
“You sure?” Gojo asked, extending his legs. “Well, Shoko did tell us Utahime is easier to deal with when she's trashed.”
Geto waved off his last statement. “She’s a real nonfactor if you ask me. It's us, right?” he asked with a smirk.
Gojo smirked back and nodded in response.
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Gojo and Geto had both been to club Phoenix plenty of times. Their whole friend group used to sneak in when they were all underage, giggling when they were let in although it was no secret to the bouncers that their IDs were fake.
The club had a live DJ every night, the drinks were shitty and the food was questionable in every aspect, but it was always a good time. The dance floor was always packed and strobe lights illuminated the space without being too disorientating. There were some couches placed in the alcoves while the others lacked furniture and remained in the dark, untouched by any lights and hard to be seen from other areas in the club.
Even as years passed by, they still found themselves enjoying the space even though they had been to many more upscale clubs since then. Tonight was no different. 
Geto wore dark jeans with a short sleeved buttoned down shirt, opting to keep the first few buttons undone. Gojo similarly wore dark jeans with a cotton tee, and they both wore casual sneakers. They each took a shot for good measure, and Gojo put on his shades before they got into an Uber and headed over to the club a little after eleven.
Music pulsed in their ears the moment the pair got past the bouncer and walked into the club. Every bar seat was filled and even more people stood surrounding the area as they flagged down bartenders for drinks. The DJ was amping up the patrons on the dancefloor, shouting something into the mic neither of them could really make out. Whatever it was, everyone on the dancefloor cheered and continued dancing. 
Gojo’s eyes darted over to the couches, hitting Geto’s chest when he saw Shoko. She was sitting with Nanami and Utahime, but you were nowhere in sight. “Let’s go ask if she’s here,” Gojo insisted.
“Don’t bother,” Geto answered over the music, nudging his chin in the direction of the dancefloor. 
There you were. You wore a baby blue sequined top that was low cut in the front and in the shape of a butterfly, tastefully showing cleavage. Thin straps held up the top that tied around your neck and back, the expanse of your smooth skin glowing under the lights on the dancefloor. The top cut a little above your belly button, the ring now changed to match the color of your top. 
A white mini skirt hung dangerously low on your hips, and a white lacy garter with a heart buckle graced one of your thighs. The ensemble was probably illegal in a couple countries, and Geto and Gojo were grateful they were able to gaze at the outfit in the flesh.
The barely there edges of your skirt swayed as your hips moved to the beat of the music. Your movements were fluid and carefree, a smile gracing your face as you danced. Next to you Haibara danced wildly, exuding the same carefree aura as yours as he brought his drink to his lips. He then extended the straw in his glass towards you which you happily accepted. Your lips wrapped around the straw taking a sip, and Haibara drank from it again.
“You see what Utahime did? We could be sharing drinks with her,” Gojo grumbled with a shake of his head. “Let’s go over there.” He was already pushing his way through the crowd before Geto could dignify him with an answer.
Gojo had little difficulty navigating through the sea of drunken people to get to where you and Haibara were dancing. Geto followed closely behind with ease.
Gojo tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned with a large smile on your face. “Satoru?” you yelled over the music. Your eyes trailed over to Geto. “Ah, Suguru, too!” You reached up and wrapped the crook of your elbows around their shoulders for a quick embrace. “Nice to see you both again!”
Haibara turned, pumping his fist with an excited gleam in his eyes. “Woo! Didn’t know you two were coming out tonight too!” He brought the straw back to his lips, promptly finishing his drink. He shook the glass full of ice. “You two came at the perfect time! I’m going to get another drink and check on everyone, keep her company, will you?”
“Go, go,” Gojo encouraged. “We’ll make sure she’s safe, don’t you worry!”
“You two are awesome!” Haibara gave him a thumbs up and pushed through the crowd in the direction of the bar.
You turned your attention back to the pair, their bodies towering over a large majority of the crowd. “Did you guys want to say hi to everyone else?” Your body was still moving idly to the music. “Shoko actually bought us a shit ton of shots earlier,” you laughed. “She was telling us she found a hundred dollars on the ground earlier in the week.”
Gojo rolled his eyes beneath the shades. At least Shoko actually used some of the money for what she said she would. “I don’t mind catching up with them later,” Gojo answered. He wasn’t even here for them. “It’s just nice seeing you again, let’s dance!”
You threw your arms in the air excitedly as a song with a faster beat began to boom through the stereos. Gojo positioned himself behind you, first taking a moment to fully appreciate the way you moved. The way your hips swung was enough to put anyone in a trance, and the bit of your ass that peeked beneath your skirt was the icing on top of the cake.
Geto stood beside Gojo, equally transfixed by your movements. Your body in motion was truly a marvel to behold. There was no way he could stop himself from admiring the way your hips rolled. Eyes still on you, he nudged Gojo as discreetly as he could, and pointed his chin in the direction of one of the dark, empty alcoves. Gojo nodded at the silent message.
“How about I grab us some shots?” Geto suggested. “Seems like we have to catch up to you.”
The shots from earlier already had you feeling warm, but you always came out to have a good time. You turned to face Geto and nodded, a smile creeping across your face. “I could go for another shot.” Pausing, your lips formed a pout. “Oh, my wallet is over with the others, I can go get it really fast.” You squinted through the crowd to look for the best path to get back over to the table.
“That sounds good, Sugu,” Gojo agreed. He placed his hands gently on your hips, letting his fingers drum gently against the spot. “Oh, the drinks are on us. Don’t worry.” He averted his attention back to Geto. “How about you just wave us over when you get them? We’ll come to you.” 
He lowered his shades just enough so Geto could see where he was gazing. His eyes lingered at the portion of the bar closest to the empty alcove. 
Geto nodded in affirmation, and then scanned the sea of people surrounding the bar. “It might take a while, don’t have too much fun without me,” he chuckled as he started making his way through the crowd toward the bar.
“Just let me know how much the drinks are later, I’ll pay you back,” you insisted. It was hard to ignore the way his hands felt on your hips, flashbacks of being pressed against him in the closet quickly flooding into your mind. 
Gojo’s hands gripped your hips a little tighter, letting his thumbs press into the dimples of your back. He couldn’t resist letting his fingers squeeze at the flesh there, so soft and pliable under his touch. He moved in closer, letting his crotch press firmly against your ass. The little bit of fabric the skirt had to offer worked to his benefit with him being able to feel the mounds of your ass pressed against him. He didn’t bother suppressing his groan, letting the surrounding music drown out the sound.
He leaned his head so his lips were aligned with your ear. “The drinks are nothing,” he asserted. “Trust me, angel. ”
You shivered feeling his lips brush against your ear as he spoke, and felt desire quickly swirling in your belly hearing the nickname. Previously hearing the nickname in Geto’s sultry voice was one thing, but hearing the hunger in Gojo’s voice as he used it was just as arousing. Come to think of it, his voice was almost… teasing.
You turned your neck to face him, your lips curling into a smile as you saw the smirk forming on his lips. He removed one hand from your hips briefly to take off his shades and fold one of the legs into the front of his shirt. The hand quickly returned to your hip, his own hips starting to move in sync with the music.
“You’re far too kind,” you gushed, feeling the gyration of his hips against you. His body felt like a brick wall pressed against your back, firm, sturdy, secure. You faced forward and stretched your arms until your fingers were brushing the base of his neck. His pulse began to beat rapidly beneath your fingertips as you started moving your hips in sync with his.
Gojo wished he could help himself, but he already knew how your body felt beneath his touch, and yearned for that feeling again. One hand stayed on your hip and the other hand started to glide up the side of your body. His hand splayed as it appreciated your waist and passed over your rib cage before snaking beneath the material of your top. Racing at his touch, your heartbeat quickened, matching his own racing pulse that was still thumping beneath your fingertips.
Gojo was grateful you weren’t wearing a bra as his hand cupped the bottom of your breast, giving it a slow squeeze as he continued to grind his hips against yours. Your breath hitched and your hips stuttered at the touch. You could already feel the nipple of your other breast harden against your top, letting out a soft whine at its lack of stimulation.
He gave your breast another squeeze, this time moving his fingers to gently pinch your nipple. Your movements stuttered again as you tried to stifle a moan. “Aw, come on. Keep dancing with me, angel,” Gojo taunted, his voice breathy against your ear. 
“Satoru, ” you whimpered.
“Told you it would be better if I had more than seven minutes,” he chuckled.
He continued rolling your nipple between his fingers as his hips continued to roll against you. Using the hand that was still on your hips, he urged the movements of your hips against his. The sensation of your nipple being pinched and his hand taking control of your motions made you clench. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you submitted to his urges, once again moving your hips in sync with his. 
Grateful to have you gyrating against him again, the hand on your hip traveled south to grip your ass beneath your skirt. “Fuck.” He took a moment to give each cheek a squeeze, desperately pressing his stiffening length against you. After more greedy squeezes, his hand rested on your hip between your skin and the band of the skirt. His hand was a passenger to the circular movements of your hips. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that, angel,” he groaned into your ear.
You were on the verge of panting as the hand on your hip slid up and made its way under your shirt, now gripping your other breast. You didn’t think your heart could start beating any faster. His hand squeezed your breasts a few times before he started kneading that nipple between his fingers. You couldn’t help the whimper you let out at the feeling of both of your nipples now being rolled between his long fingers.
You were a clenching mess, feeling his length pressing against you with each movement of your hips. Another desperate whimper left your lips as your fingers dug into the skin of his neck. Your eyes fluttered at the sense of euphoria, uncaring of anything else going on. Your back arched as your hips continued to move, thrusting more of your breast into his hands.
Your breasts were soft and warm in his hands, and Gojo expertly squeezed them while he continued to knead your nipples. Your eyes closed and your head lolled at his touch, a look of bliss crossing over your face under the strobe lights.
Gojo didn’t care who saw, but he glanced at the other club goers on the dance floor. They weren’t paying you two any mind, either too inebriated to care or engaging in their own form of dancing. Or some combination of the two, for that matter,  
He glanced towards the couches where he saw Shoko sitting when he and Geto came in, but only Nanami and Haibara were there. He shrugged and looked toward the bar. 
Geto was just receiving the order of shots on a tray when he glanced in Gojo’s direction. A playful smile danced across Gojo’s face when they made eye contact. He squeezed your breasts as he kept eye contact with Geto. 
Geto’s lips rose to a small smirk watching Gojo massage your breasts and roll against you. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare at your blissed out expression. His cock already seemed to jump to life just knowing how good you must have been feeling right now. He didn’t want to miss out on any more fun. He waved Gojo over, still watching as your head lolled with your eyes closed.
Gojo reluctantly removed his hands from beneath your shirt. “Sugu has the shots, come on.” He grabbed your hand as the two of you navigated to the end of the bar where Geto was. 
The smirk hadn’t left his face as he took in your flushed appearance. He took one shot from the tray and handed it to you. “Only if you want to,” he affirmed.
You took the shot from him, placing your other hand on your hip. “I’m not a baby, let's go.”
“That’s my girl!” Gojo chanted, grabbing a shot from the tray.
Geto grabbed a shot, and the three of you clinked the glasses together before quickly downing them.
Your lips pursed as it coursed down your throat, immediately setting your body temperature ablaze. You looked over to Geto and Gojo who were already downing another shot. Thinking about shots you took earlier and all the sips of everyone's drinks you had, you weren’t going to argue with them for not asking if you wanted another shot or not.
You put your glass on the tray as Geto glanced at you. He took a step forward and let his palm graze the side of your face while his other hand settled on your waist. His thumb brushed against your cheek. “You look amazing tonight, angel.”
His voice simply wanted to make you melt. “Thank you.” You tilted your head so your lips brushed against his when you spoke again. “You look great too.”
“Come here,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours. You both tasted like alcohol, but neither of you cared as your lips slowly moved against each other. You were putty in his hands as he kissed you, willing your body to mend to his touch.
With one final brush against Geto’s lips, Gojo was reaching for your hand. “Come on you two.” You let his large hand encase yours as he pulled you toward the empty alcove. Geto took a hold of your other hand, and you instantly felt your blood running even warmer.
Letting go of your hand, Gojo pressed his back against the wall. He circled his arms around your waist, pulling your backside flush against his front once more. Geto let go of your hand as well and stood in front of you, effectively sandwiching you between their bodies. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just your own desire, but being between the two of them had your heart beating rapidly yet again.
Geto stepped in closer, letting his hand rest under your chin. His mouth hovered over yours as yours as he spoke. “Were you having fun with Satoru, angel?”
“Oh, she was,” Gojo answered with a laugh, letting his hands travel beneath your shirt again. His hands grabbed your breasts, squeezing the mounds with more force this time. You let out a moan against Geto’s lips as Gojo’s fingers began to pinch at your nipples again. You clenched around nothing, pressing your thighs together desperately to ease the ache. “ God, Suguru. Do you hear her?”
“Mhm,” Geto answered, letting his lips graze against your parted lips before they started trailing down your face. He kissed the corner of your mouth, and trailed down lower to the skin of your neck. “You know, she sounds really pretty when she comes too.” His lips latched on to the base of your neck, sucking at the skin there. “Don’t you want to hear that?”
“Oh, for sure. Nice of you to finally learn how to share.” Gojo took his time letting his hands trail down your body once more, eager to become familiar with every dip and curve. His hand dipped down, easily lifting the soft fabric of your skirt and nudging your thighs open. “Let me take care of that for you.” You parted your thighs, and a finger was brushing over your clothed clit. Another moan left your mouth as another finger joined, rubbing your clit in slow circles over the fabric of your underwear. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this.”
Gojo eagerly bypassed the crotch of your underwear and pushed a finger inside of you, his erection still present from before throbbing against you as your wetness enveloped him. You whined, clenching around the digit as he wasted no time pumping it in and out of you. “I know you’re dying for more.You can take one more, be a good girl.” He let his middle finger join his index one, inching both digits deeper until they were seated fully inside of you. “Mhm, just like that.”
Geto continued ravishing the skin of your neck, taking his time to let his lips caress the spot before sucking it, wanting to mar the same spot from last time that had since faded. He shifted the hand that was on your chin to grip the back of your neck, his other hand shifting to massage one of your breasts. He moaned into the skin of your neck as he let his finger knead your stiffened nipple. 
Every part of your body was vibrating with arousal. “Fuck,” you whimpered out, continuously clenching around Gojo’s digits and desperately arching into Geto’s touch. It felt like you were being tugged in every direction; Gojo’s free hand on your hip keeping your backside pressed against him tightly and Geto’s hand securely on your neck, keeping you at an angle where you had no choice but to let him keep ravaging your skin.
Geto pulled the breast he was massaging out of your top completely, moving his mouth’s attention from your neck to your nipple. He let his tongue circle the peak, looking up to see your lips part and release another moan. “God, angel. You’re such a slut. ” He chuckled lightly before he closed his lips around the bud, sucking it into his mouth,
Gojo felt you clench instantly at Geto’s words, causing him to buck his hips against you. “Shit,” he murmured, curling his digits to reach your g-spot. “For a slut, this pussy is fucking tight.”
Geto pulled your other breast out of your shirt, moving his mouth across your chest to suck your other nipple into his mouth. His teeth nipped at the bud gently before his tongue flicked against it, alternating between hard and soft sucks. He moved the hand that was resting on the back of your neck to the front, gently squeezing at the sides. He sucked your nipple into his mouth harshly before coming off with a lewd pop. “That’s better for us, isn’t it?”
Gojo couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across his face even if he wanted to. “Of course it is.”
Geto returned to your other nipple, rolling his tongue around it before letting his lips trail back up to your neck. The hand on your neck applied more pressure and he let his other hand begin to stimulate your nipple again. You were a moaning mess, opened mouthed and legs trembling. Geto’s length was practically a brick against his thigh. He pressed his thigh against one of your legs, groaning at the friction it provided.
“Ah, please,” you whimpered. It all felt like too much, but your body still craved more. Gojo’s erection pressed against your ass and Geto’s against your leg, your nipples being played with, being filled with Gojo’s fingers, the choking, the euphoria of the alcohol, it was hard to say what more could even constitute as, but you wanted it. 
“Please what?” Geto ground his leg against you, erection shamelessly throbbing. “You want Satoru to make you come?”
You nodded pathetically, tears threatening to spring from the corners of your eyes. “Please.”
“You hear that? Our angel wants you to make her come.” Geto peered up at Gojo, a smirk dancing across his lips. Geto’s gaze was back on you. “I think you should be more polite, angel. Ask him again, he wants to hear you.”
“Satoru, please,” you pleaded desperately.
Gojo steadily pumped his fingers in and out, plunging his fingers deep and keeping them curled against your g spot as your breaths became more ragged. “Come on, let it out,” he encouraged, letting his thumb rub against your clit. “I want to know how this pussy feels,” he mumbled into your ear.
Your legs trembled as you gave into his demands, body slumping against his as you spasmed around his fingers. Your voice was nothing but a string of moans as his fingers stayed inside of you, moving slowly as your juices coated them.
“Fuck, she does sound pretty,” Gojo groaned, making eye contact with Geto. “I want to see for myself how she tastes.” He slowly removed his digits from you, keeping you propped firmly against him as he slid his fingers into his mouth. He moaned around them, keeping his eyes on Geto. “Delicious.”
“Yeah?” Geto pressed in closer, his hips now slotted between yours as the hand that gripped your breast moved down to caress the skin of your thigh. He maneuvered the hand on your throat behind you, now gripping Gojo’s chin. “Let me have a taste then.”
Gojo grabbed at the back of Geto’s neck to bring their lips together. Your body was tight between them as both of their erections throbbed against you, and you could feel wetness saturating your panties again. You whined, gripping at Geto’s muscles under his shirt and wiggling your hips in any way you could to get more friction. Despite the overstimulation, you couldn’t stop, desperate yet again for more.
Gojo has never been a gentle kisser. As soon as their lips joined, he shifted his hand to grip Geto’s hair. His fingers clutched his tresses tight as he began pushing his tongue past Geto’s lips. Gojo let out a moan of satisfaction once Geto’s lips parted, letting his tongue roam the inside of his mouth.
Geto could taste you on Gojo’s tongue, and could feel you writhing between the two of them. If there was even a pocket of space between the three of your bodies, he closed it, letting out a moan when Gojo bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, she does taste good,” he gritted out, giving your thigh another squeeze. “Think I’m going to need another taste.”
Gojo let his tongue trace the shape of Geto’s lips before he shoved his tongue back inside his mouth. Geto moaned into Gojo’s mouth before letting his own tongue sliver into Gojo’s mouth. The familiar gesture was charged with arousal, the kiss growing sloppier the longer the two kept their mouths pressed together. The lewd sound of their lips moving against each other made you clench again. You panted, grinding yourself against Geto’s thigh, aching for another release.
When Geto pulled back, a thick trail of spit connected their lips together. “Oh angel, are you feeling left out?” Geto teased, feeling your pelvis against his thigh. “Can’t have that, can we?”
Gojo smirked, sucking the trail into his mouth as he peered down to see you humping Geto’s thigh. “Oh, Sugu,” he cooed. “I think she wants to come again.” Gojo released his grip from Geto’s hair and put a hand back on your breast. “Make her come, I want to see.”
“If you insist,” Geto snickered, stepping back only slightly. Gojo kept a hold on your hip while Geto pushed the fabric of your panties aside to pump his middle and index finger inside of you. They slipped in with no resistance, already soaked from your previous orgasm and more recent arousal. “Mhm, that’s it. Just as tight as I remembered.”
“Ah,” you moaned, throwing your head back as you clenched around him. You knew it wouldn't take much to bring you to another orgasm. Gojo’s hips thrusted against your ass, making your hips rock on Geto’s fingers. You let out another moan, tears prickling from the corner of your eyes as he pinched your nipple again. “That feels so good,” you breathed.
“Mhm,” Geto hummed. He slowly nudged a third finger at your entrance, his cock throbbing when you slowly started to envelop them. He watched as they disappeared inside of you until all three were knuckle deep and curling against your g-spot. The way your pussy started to clamp down on him would give a claw machine a run for its money. “Fuck, you can do it,” he praised. “Come for us one more time.”
Gojo swiftly moved his hand from your breast to beneath your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him. The lust swimming in his eyes was evident. “Keep your eyes on him,” Geto instructed. “If you look away, I’ll stop.”
You whined, willing your eyes to stay open and keep your body upright. It felt good, too good. How could greed really be a sin when having more proved itself to be better, much better. 
You squeezed your eyes tightly at a curl of Geto’s fingers, a guttural moan escaping your lips. Gojo tsked despite his cock throbbing at your moan, letting his hand squeeze the sides of your chin. “Don’t be rude. You heard him, didn’t you?” Your eyes jolted open at his touch. “Keep those eyes on me, angel.”
Geto didn’t stop, his slender fingers still moving in and out of your heat. His eyes bounced between your weeping pussy and the desperation to please plastered all over your face. “Do I need to stop?” he taunted, slowing his movements. “Don’t tell me she isn’t being a good girl for us.”
“She just needed a little reminder,” Gojo chuckled lightly. His grip didn’t leave your chin as he looked down at you, eyes struggling to stay open and body writhing with pleasure. “Fuck angel, you’re so fucking pretty like this. Open your mouth.”
You didn’t have the capacity to ask any questions as you parted your lips. Gojo titled his lips downward to spit into your open mouth. You clenched around Geto’s digits as you welcomed his saliva into your mouth. “Fuck,” Gojo gritted out, keeping a tight hold on your chin to smash his lips against yours. Your lips were barely aligned as they moved against each other with little grace, but neither of you cared. You moaned into his mouth, hips grinding frantically on Geto’s fingers.
Geto quickened the pace of his fingers, every stroke only aiming to brush against your g-spot. Your moans turned into pants against Gojo’s lips as your body was reaching its peak. 
You cried out as your pussy locked down on Geto’s fingers, pulsing around the digits erratically. Your chest heaved as his fingers exited you. Between the alcohol and the back to back orgasms, you could barely keep your eyes open. 
Through fluttering lids, you saw Geto bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean with a smile. Gojo parted his lips, and Geto placed his fingers on Gojo’s tongue. Gojo sucked them diligently, moaning around his fingers and savoring your taste again.
Gojo wrapped his arms around you tightly while Geto put your breasts back in your top. He put a hand under your chin, leaning his own head to be eye level with you. “How about you come home with us, angel?” A soft small graced his face. “We can have some more fun.”
You were already exhausted and overstimulated, but there wasn’t a hint of hesitation in your voice when you answered, “I’d love to.”
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Joo did some lovely art that i appreciated sm!!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) more skin tones on the linked post!!
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just ch 3 left to upload :p
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quitesins · 2 years
Text
Katsuki Catching you on the Sims
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Masterlist
Tags: Sfw, suggestive, fem!reader, friends to lovers, short drabble, no edit just vibes
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“Is…is that us?” The voice startles you and you immediately go to cover your screen, embarrassment hitting you like a truck.
“What- no- Kats’ what-” You scramble out the words, snapping your head to the side.
“Oh it fucking is, isn’t it?” You can hear the smirk, Katsuki shoving you lightly to the side and taking seat. “Go on, show me.”
You shake your head harshly, still clutching the laptop, not making any moves to close the game.
“Nah, I wanna see.” Katsuki can be stubborn and you know you aren’t going to get out of this one.
“Fine…” You whisper out, reluctantly slipping your hands down and finding the mouse pad.
God, it’s embarrassing.
You can’t even try to hide the resemblance between the character of your game and the man beside you. His name is in bright capital letters, admitting your lies for you.
“Huh, it really is me.” Katsuki muses, eyeing his Sims counterpart. “Got my skull shirt and all.”
The sim in question walks around the screen, throughout a large but homely house. The two of you watch it for a moment, when suddenly a notification pops up. Oh no.
“This sim is feeling…” Katsuki starts to read, and you wish for the ground to swallow you. “Flirty?”
You don’t even want to look at the screen anymore, but Katsuki does, following along the character as the camera pans. Soon another sim is in view. One that’s evidently you. And before you can even attempt to pause the game, divert the character away or even throw the laptop off you, there goes Katsuki’s sim, pulling yours into a kiss. A grand, dramatic, and undeniably salacious kiss.
Not a word is said. All you can hear is your own heart beating tremendously. You wonder if he can hear it. Then, abruptly and loud, Katsuki laughs.
A genuine- from the belly- laugh. He doesn’t stop, even when you shake him in protest, whining that he’s being a prick. There’s tears in his eyes, his head is tilted back and his hands rest on yours as they jab at him lightly. If you weren’t so flustered you’d probably appreciate the rare display of unrestrained joy.
“Shut the fuck up! Katsuki!” The laptop is pushed off you by now, and you’re practically atop of the man, shaking him to stop.
His laughter starts to taper but with a chuckle still in his voice, he says. “You’re an idiot, y’know that?”
Katsuki doesn’t give you a moment to take in the words, already pulling you to him, clutching your face in his hands and kissing you.
One grand, dramatic, and undeniably salacious kiss.
It surprises you for a second, but then you melt, almost asking for more. You’re on his lap, by your own movements and his. Nothing on your mind but the feeling of his lips against yours.
When the two of you finally pull apart, you can see how he blushes, how his chest falls and rises. Just like you- he’s in his own fluster.
“Could’ve just asked.” He breathes, the two of you calming. “I’d give you anything from that shitty game.”
The hint of jealousy makes you giggle, resting your head on his shoulder. “Even the multi-billion dollar house I designed?”
You can tell he rolls his eyes, but his voice is soft and full of love.
“Yeah, even the fuckin’ world.”
-
“Holy fuck [Name], do we have kids in this shit?”
“KATSUKI!! STOP LOOKING!!!”
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I’m currently trying to re-download sims because the last I played was when I was 16 and I miss it! Bout to make my whole genshin team and start a fight club 💪
Edit: this is getting loads of reblog comment thingies and I really want to say thank u!!! But IDK HOW TO REPLY??? THIS APP IS SO HARD TO USE???!??
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parrythisucasual · 7 months
Text
What About Me? Ch. 1
___HERES THE STORY SO FAR!!! NOT BETA READ SORRYYYYY___
PAIRING- JAX X READER (ROMANTIC)
Something is wrong. This isn't right. You were just lying in bed, starting a new VR game. Where are you now? There’s… music playing. Chipper, happy music. And every single color is like your mom’s phone screen- full-on brightness. You blink a few times, staring around. There’s a group of people… But they aren't people, exactly. They seem more like children's toys.
You're suddenly feeling very, very overwhelmed. You can feel your body shaking as panic punches you hard in the gut. You’re going to scream, you're going to have a breakdown, you're going to- 
“Where am I?” Oh. Well, that wasn’t so bad. Until the motley group turns and looks at you. The fear only rises as a doll woman steps closer to you “Another one? But Pomni just got here last week…” You blink, utterly dumbfounded. She spoke to you. You can understand her.
“Who are you?” a second question makes its way past your lips, your mind searching desperately for some kind of clarity. “This one’s taking it pretty well. Unless you count the crying.” another voice piped up as a purple rabbit sauntered over, stopping right next to you, “at least they aren't screaming like someone did when she got here.” 
“Jax!” the doll snapped at the rabbit, “I’m sorry about him, he’s just a bully. I’m Ragatha.” she gently placed an arm over your shoulder, causing a small bit of relief to flood through you. Something grounding. “I know this is really scary and off-putting, but I promise you’ll be okay.”
“Except you can never leave.” Jax’s smile widened. Your heart dropped rather suddenly “N-never leave?” you asked, looking from Jax to Ragatha. “Afraid not, my dear!” a third voice, a rather loud one, came to your attention. You turned to see who this could be and almost jumped out of your skin.
A set of teeth with bulging eyes staring at you, hovering a few feet in the air, “Welcome to the Amazing Digital Circus! I’m your ringmaster, Caine!” he greeted enthusiastically, spreading his arms in a display of showmanship. You think you’ve had enough.
Reaching to your face, you try to pull the headset off. But… it's not there. It’s just your face. But it doesn't feel like your face. It feels like a soft silicone rubber, almost like the Gumby toy you’d had as a kid. “It’s not there!” you yelp, now simply holding your own head.
“It’s okay, I promise you’re okay,” Ragatha gently reached over and took your hands from your head, “Just take a breath, okay?” You nodded, taking a deep breath and relaxing a bit, “Why isn’t it here?”
“Who knows? You’re stuck either way, why bother thinkin’ about it?” Jax walked past you, shrugging. You can already feel a twinge of anger at this… man? Rabbit? You’re clearly terrified and he can’t bother being kind for one second? 
Oddly, that anger only serves to calm you more. You ignore him and turn back to Ragatha, “Okay. I’m stuck here… in the circus… we can’t leave. You’re Ragatha. That's Jax. That’s Caine,” you list your knowledge, nodding with each statement. A small smile spread across her face, “Exactly.”
Nodding, you glance to the other circus members “What about… them?” you ask. Ragatha points to each member “This is Zooble, that’s Gangle, there’s Pomni,” she gestures to a pile of pillows, “Kinger is in there.” You made a mental note of each, making sure to introduce yourself later.
“Ya know, it's kind of refreshing not having to deal with some crybaby freakin’ out on us,” Jax mused, waving a finger in your general direction. The anger twinged once more, and before you could stop it, a realtor shot from your lips, “It would be refreshing if you shut your mouth. Nobody wants to hear your opinion.”
Shock spread across his face momentarily, then he frowned “I don’t care what anybody wants to hear or not. I say whatever I want to.” Ragathe interrupted suddenly, “OKAY! Let’s not fight… Um, what did you say you wanted us to call you?”
“I didn’t say. I’m- uh… My name…” you couldn’t remember. Terror gripped your chest once more. You could see Jax smiling, and that only worsened it. They knew you wouldn’t know. You pressed the anger back. No fighting.
“Um… just… just call me (Y/N),” you spoke quickly, taking the name off the top of your head. With a nod, Ragatha smiled, “Alright. Well, welcome to the circus, (Y/N).” You couslnt help but return the grin. She was too kind, making you feel so welcome. 
“Why don’t I show you your bedroom, then?” she offered, “if you’d like me to?” “Sure,” you accepted, following her away from the group. You couldn’t help but notice Jax staring at you as you left. Something about his face made you feel off. You couldn't place it, maybe he was angry? But it didn’t feel like he was. Oh well. You could deal with that later. For now, you focused on getting to your room, getting settled, and simply taking in your situation. After all… you were here to stay, weren’t you?
______HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!! ANY IDEAS?? SUGGESTIONS??? COMMENT!!! WANT TO CHAT??? DM!!!!___________
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tightjeansjavi · 7 months
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common tongue of your loving me
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A/N: so, I first just wanted to say that I am not responsible for the content that you choose to engage with. This is a very dark fic with triggering themes that may be disturbing for some readers. This is dead dove do not eat. Please heed the warnings with caution. I understand that this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but for my first truly dark fic, I feel pretty good about it. It’s taken months of personal healing for me to become comfortable with writing/engaging with these kinds of fics. That being said, it is important to remember that SA survivors often use dark fic to cope from their own traumatic experiences, but also, dark fics can be enjoyed by anyone and no explanation for enjoying them is needed! Reading and writing dark fic does not mean that you condone this type of behavior. Please be kind.
~word count: 9.1k~
Summary: Joel finds you wandering through his territory and decides that he’ll take you in to be his little lamb. You don’t go with him so willingly.
pairing | raider!Joel x f!reader
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!
Dubcon/noncon, the lines are blurred regarding to what the reader consents too, Joel is sick in the head, coercion, manipulation from both Joel and the reader, Stockholm syndrome vibes, he can kill easily you if he wanted to but he won’t, dom/sub, dark! Joel, feral! Joel, raider! Joel, rough unprotected sex, possession, degradation, age gap: Joel is 40 the reader is early 30’s, power imbalance, fear tactics, mind games, praise kink, pet names: little lamb and sir, rough unprotected piv, choking/breath play, knife kink, blood kink, voyeurism, hand job, mutual masturbation, cock warming, oral (male and female receiving) cum play, mutilation of a body part (not done to the reader) misogyny from Joel’s men, implied rape as threat/coercion, Joel is not a morally good person, touch deprivation, humiliation, graphic depictions of violence, submission on the means of survival, foul language, +18 minors dni!
main masterlist masterlist
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The Cordyceps Outbreak changed you in a plethora of ways. Survivor turned cold-blooded murderer; not of your own doing. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all. Your saving grace happened to be a man. Brooding in strength, a quick tongue, and an even quicker aim. Calculated movements built up over years of tireless days and nights enduring whatever hell-scape the world had to offer. Grit, stubbornness, chapped lips, aliquine nose, paired with a wicked grin.
“Y’lost?” Gruff, gravelly, never ending pit of deepness. Joel Miller was crouched down between what you believed was an inconspicuous hiding space. You caught wind days out that a group of raiders had been silently stalking you. You were alone, with a limited supply of weapons in your reach.
“No.” Your voice trembled as you clutched your precious pocket knife to your chest.
“That so? What’re you doin’ hidin’ back there?” His head cocked curiously as his boot scraped along the tattered floor of the long since abandoned gas station.
“None of your goddamn business.” You hissed, teeth gritted as your eyes squeezed shut.
“Cute.” He mused. “Take it that you’re alone then? Y’got anythin’ on ya?”
“Are you going to kill me, or not? Cause if so, just get on with us for both our sakes.” You nearly pleaded.
He tsked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Ain’t gonna do that. Woulda dragged you outta there myself if that was the case. Besides, I enjoy it more when they run.” He spoke so casually you could feel your blood quickly turn to ice from his tone alone.
“What the hell do you want then? I have nothing to offer. Just some measly scraps, and a dull pocket knife.”
I’m gonna die. That’s it. It’s all over. All that fighting for fucking nothing.
“Ain’t that a shame.” You could feel the smirk rise on his face as bile tried to force its way up your throat. “You’re in luck, my dear. Feelin’ a bit generous. Been lookin’ for a pet. Someone to keep my bed warm at night. Clean my gun. Be at my side. The offer stands, but expires in approximately..” He looked around as if there was a working clock in sight, “one minute.”
“Wait, wait! Are you saying you want me to be your slave?! Fuck no! I’d–”
“Temper, I see. My slave? Not at all, darlin.’ You’ve got it all wrong. Ain’t gonna force ya, although, you were the one to stupidly go waltzing into raider territory. More specifically, my territory. So, you either swallow that fuckin’ tongue of yours and accept your fate, or i’ll let my men have their way with ya. N’trust me, doll. They’ll tear you apart the second they get their hands on you.”
“You sick fuck! I’m not going anywhere with you!” You pushed your body further between the two aisle shelves that had collapsed over.
“Ten.”
“You’re insane!”
“Nine.”
“Eight.” He droned with mock enthusiasm.
“C’mon, you ain’t got anywhere else to go. I won’t touch you unless you want me to. Don’t make this fuckin’ harder for yourself than it needs to be. My patience is runnin’ thin, and the clock is tickin’ away, little lamb.”
“I am not your little lamb, you fuckin’ monster!”
His eyes rolled in pure annoyance as you listened intently to the unmistakable clicking sound of his gun cocking.
“Seven.”
“Six.”
What other choice did you really have? Allow yourself to be violated, and god knows what else by this man’s men, or accept your fate and become his ‘pet.’ Just the thought alone sent a wave of nausea knocking through your system.
“Wait, wait! Please!” You nearly begged as you pulled yourself free from your hiding spot. You dropped your pocket knife to the floor with a clink as you held your hands above your head.
His smirk was nothing short of menacing as he took immediate notice to the terrified glassy look in your eyes.
“Don’t be frightened, little lamb.” He crooned
“You’re safe, and no harm will be done to you. However, my men will be deeply disappointed to hear that I have decided to take you as my own.”
God, this man was sick, but there was no turning back now. No escape route. No plan. No hope. Maybe he was just bluffing. Maybe his plan was to kill you when you’d least expect it. Maybe this was all just a game of cat and mouse for him; you being the helpless little mouse.
“You swear that you’re not going to touch me?” You eyed his outstretched hand warily.
“My darlin’ little lamb, you have my word. Although, I will have to pat you down. Y’know, to make sure you ain’t have anythin’ on ya. Oh, and don’t think I'm playin’ stupid either. Cus’ if you try’n kill me? I’ll make you wish that you had never been born. You have no idea what I am capable of, and my token of kindness only can stretch so far. Jus’ be good, and I won’t have to send a pretty thing like you six feet under. Got it?” His tone was sharp and straight to the point as his brow raised in your direction. You couldn’t even begin to fathom what this man was capable of.
You reluctantly took his hand as he hoisted you up from the grime infested floor. Not a second later did he have your back pinned securely against his broad chest as he held the sharp tip of your knife expertly against your jugular. All he would have to do was apply a tad bit of pressure in order to make a fatal incision. You could feel his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear. His voice dropped an octave as he whispered, “Oh, and if you even think about tryn’ to run from me? I will hunt you down. Do I make myself crystal fuckin’ clear, little lamb?”
You struggled considerably in his constricting grip. A hiss slipped past your lips when the tip of the blade pricked your skin, blood beaded along the surface before slowly trickling down the column of your throat. “Fuck you, asshole.” You nearly whimpered when the blunt ends of his fingernails dug fiercely into your hips. He was unmoving like a mountain, or a slab of concrete. (whichever you prefer)
“That ain’t my name, little lamb.” He tuts before dipping his head down along the clavicle of your neck. His curls gently tickle your chin before you feel his hot tongue poke out and lick up the droplets of blood from your skin. You involuntarily inhaled a harsh breath as his lips harshly sucked on the entry wound. You heard a tiny grunt rumble up his chest before he uttered, tone thick and raspy, “It’s Joel.”
Joel fucking Miller.
His teeth nipped and scraped at your torn skin as his grip around you tightened. “Silly, silly, little lamb. You’ve gone and nicked yourself. Be good, and I’ll let you breathe.”
“Please, please let go of me, Joel. Please. You’re hurting me.” Your voice came out strained as you ultimately gave up on struggling in his steel-like grasp.
“There ya go. That’s a good little lamb.” He cooed as he loosened his grip around you. He had forgotten all about needing to pat you down as he slowly lowered your knife from its present position on your neck. He tucked it away in his own backpack for safe keeping. You were dumb to think that he’d let you have it back.
“Now that we’ve gotten the painfully hard stuff outta the way, y’can relax. So stiff.” He tsked as he nudged you forward. “You’ll be pleased to hear that I’m not a complete barbarian. Got a cabin with workin’ plumbing! Imagine that.” He chuckled amusedly.
You were far from amused as you crossed your arms over your chest protectively as he nudged you forward. Your feet worked on autopilot as his domineering presence was close behind you. “That’s nice, Joel. I could frankly fucking care less where you live.” You snapped in a sharp quick tone.
“Oh? Well, perhaps you’d rather fuckin’ sleep outside, chained to a tree like a goddamn dog.” he snapped back, quicker than you had expected.
“Yeah?” You scoffed. “Well, maybe I would much rather be chained to a fucking tree than breathe the same disgusting air as you.” So much for not pushing this man's buttons.
He laughed, and you could feel his hot breath tickling the hair along the back of your neck.
“As tempting as that sounds, how am I supposed to protect you if you’re chained to a tree?” He was smirking rather sadistically. You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew he was grinning through his teeth. “Besides, wouldn’t you much rather sleep in a warm, cozy bed, little lamb? I bet it’s been awhile since you’ve experienced that kinda comfort, hmm?” He knew he was toying with you and it was becoming increasingly difficult to not stand your ground.
“I don’t need your protection. I don’t want anything to do with it, and for the love of God, would you stop fucking calling me little lamb?”
“Y’know, the more you fight this, the worse it’s going to be. You oughta be thankin’ me. Y’know why? I could fuckin’ take you right here, right now. I can shove you to the ground and have my way with you, little lamb. You can scream and cry all you want, but there’s not a goddamn thing you could do to stop me. You’re defenseless, and apparently missing quite a few marbles in that brain of yours. I suggest you shut the fuck up, and keep movin.’” In the midst of your quarrel, he had silently removed his gun from the holster around his hips, and you could feel the cool metal of the barrel pressing into the back of your neck.
You froze purely out of fear as your mouth went dry. No words fell from your once confident tongue as he nudged you forward once more.
“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He hissed.
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You were in fact shocked to see that Joel and his men didn’t live in filth and grime like you expected. Even moreso, it didn’t appear that they had stowed away any prisoners in their camp. This newfound knowledge was both comforting, and unsettling. Joel’s cabin was the furthest from the rest of the group. Tucked away in a grouping of evergreens. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d think he was just some lone survivor too. You surveyed the surrounding area silently as he unlocked the front door. You could run..but how far would you manage to get? He’d hunt you down no doubt. Your body was already running off pure adrenaline. It had been weeks since you had a proper meal.
“Home sweet home.” He chimed as he gave you a rough jolt forward. Your legs nearly buckled from the surprised movement as you stumbled inside. The heavy wooden door swung shut as he locked it behind him.
“I imagine you must be starvin’ huh?”
“Nope.”
He rolled his eyes as he slung his backpack along one of the hooks on the wall. “Uh-huh. You ain’t all that of a liar, little lamb. Look, if I were in your situation, i’d suck it the fuck up and be grateful for my generous hospitality. Y’wanna starve? Be my fuckin’ guest, but don’t say I didn’t try to feed ya.” He huffed as he strode past you, shoulder brushing yours roughly as he disappeared into the kitchen.
You stood there dumbly in the middle of the entryway as you subconsciously scratched at your arm. “Hey..uh, Joel?” You sounded timid and unsure of yourself but given the present circumstances, that was to be expected.
His head peeked around the corner as he made eye contact with you. “Yes, little lamb?”
Can he fucking quit it with that nickname already?
“So, I was wondering if it was possible for me to uh–shower? I’ve been traveling for weeks and I just figured you probably wouldn’t want me stinking up your bed? Just want to make sure I'm being a good pet for you.” You nearly gagged from your compliant words, but if you played your cards right, maybe you’d make it out of this alive.
His slow growing smirk was a tell-tale sign that he was buying your faux submission. Ruthless or not, he was still a man at the end of the day.
“Sure. S’not a problem at all. Y’need help findin’ your way? Jus’ down the hall n’to the left. I’ll leave some clothes out for ya as well. Think you’ve worn those things to ruin.” He casually gestured to your tattered clothing.
“Yeah, well..beggars can’t be choosers now can they?”
“No, they can’t.” He agreed.
You stared at one another a moment longer before you padded off down the hall. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head until you turned the corner. You paused momentarily to listen for his footsteps. Only when you were convinced he didn’t follow you, did you finally release a shaky breath. Just be good, and you’ll get out of this one way or another.
Joel’s bathroom was insipid in decor, but that came as to no surprise. It’s not like he had any reason to embellish the space with flowers or any other domestic shit. At least the towels looked fairly clean, and the shower head looked durable. You could have shed tears of joy when you turned the faucet handle and a steady stream flowed through the shower head. The water had a slightly oxidized odor from the well, but it wasn’t ice cold; more like room temperature. You wasted no time to shred your thin layers of clothing and discard them to the cool tile beneath your feet. Your nipples pebbled and grew taught under the cooling stream of water along your skin. You feel the filth and grime slowly wash away and stain the water a murky brown color from the debris. You were pleasantly surprised to find a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo that was undoubtedly expired, but it would suffice.
The towel you wrapped around your body was a bit coarse and itchy from being utilized so many times. You kept your hand firmly wrapped around the front of the towel to prevent it from slipping down your still damp body. As you reached for the door handle you found shortly after that there was something blocking your ability to open it all the way. You took a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the inevitable..clothes? There just outside of the door, folded nicely in a pile, was a shirt and pants waiting for you.
Joel was busy putzing around the kitchen as he prepared a well-deserved meal for the two of you. He was already convinced that you were warming up to him (finally). Or, perhaps you were just too exhausted to put up a solid fight. Either way, he was going to continue to use his generous hospitality to his advantage. Match point.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice.” He mused from where he was standing as you appeared from down the hall.
“Shower was pretty decent.” You mumbled in response.
“Go on and make yourself at home.” He gestured to the small kitchen table with two handcrafted wooden chairs. “Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”
“I already told you, I'm not hungry.”
“Still playin’ the stubborn game, are we? What happened to the whole ‘I want to be a good pet for you, Joel?’” he dropped the kitchen knife he was presently holding onto the countertop as he made air quotes with his fingers.
“Why the hell would you think for a second that I'm going to trust you all of a sudden? I don’t want shit to do with your food.”
“Mmm. I see. S’you jus’ thought oh, i’ll just use his shower and shit will be all peachy keen? Sit your fuckin’ ass down at that table right now.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.
“Oh, gee. You’re too kind! Giving me somewhere to finally rest my fucking feet.” You muttered sarcastically under your breath as you plopped down onto the chair finally.
Seconds later a plate was placed down in front of you. The smell was absolutely mouthwatering. Seared venison, potatoes, gravy and bread. This was a real hearty meal that you could only dream of having. It reminded you of Sunday dinner’s back at your parents when you were struggling to pay your rent off every month. You’d have leftovers for days thanks to them.
You suspiciously eyed your captor as he took the seat across from you and began to indulge in the meal he had prepared. You remained skeptical as your arms crossed over your chest defiantly.
“It ain’t poisoned if that’s what you’re thinkin.’ Why the hell would I be eating poisoned food? Besides, how are you supposed to keep my bed warm if you’re fuckin’ dead, little lamb?” He grumbled as he pointed his fork in your direction.
“I don’t know. Maybe a sick fuck like you is into that sorta thing. You don’t actually expect me to believe that you have a moral compass, do you?”
“Oh, you’re right on the head with that one. Just below your feet I have bodies stashed for safekeeping. Oh, and some are buried out back in the woods. You’ll find bones scattered about the property.” he stated nonchalantly as he leaned over the table with his eyes locked on yours. “Y’know what I love most? I love it when they scream and beg for their pathetic little lives to be spared. They all try to escape, but they never get very far. I give them all a fair head start jus’ to give them that false hope that they’re going to make it out of this alive.” He stabbed a piece of venison with his fork before popping it into his mouth.
Your blood curdled like rotten milk as you went to push your chair back. You were startled from the sound of his knife being embedded into the wood with a harsh thud. “Don’t you even fuckin’ think about it.” He hissed.
“Are you fucking serious?! You have dead bodies under the fucking floorboards?! So, this was your plan all along?! Make me play house with you till you get bored and decide to butcher me?!”
“No.” he deadpanned. “I was not bein’ serious. But, since you think i’m some sick fuckin’ monster that stashes women away to murder them, I decided to play into your little scenario. Now, fuckin’ eat your goddamn food. Or by God I will fucking pin you down and shove it down your throat.”
You truly could not tell if he was bluffing or not, but by the darkened appearance of his pupils, your brain was literally screaming at you to just pick the fucking fork up and eat. So, that’s exactly what you did. Fuck, this was the best thing you tasted in a long time.
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When the sun began to set and cast a soft orange glow through the cabin windows, your nerves were on high alert when you faced the realization that you’d have to sleep in the same bed as this man. Your plate was nearly licked clean as he removed it from in front of you. He could sense your unease from a mile away. It was as if he could smell the fear leaking from your pores.
“Go on and get some rest, little lamb. I’ll be there in a few. Oh, and by the way, I prefer to sleep naked. I hope that doesn’t pose a problem for you.” He shot a flirty wink in your direction before you were immediately pushing your chair back.
Fucking peachy.
It wasn’t difficult to find his bedroom as it was the only other room in the mid size cabin. You would have much rather have slept on the uncomfortable hardwood floor than to share a bed with him. However, based on how he acted at the dinner table..you really didn’t want to stretch your luck, if you’d even call it that, any further.
The semi-comfortable mattress brought instant relief to your aching back and shoulders. A comfort short lived as you listened attentively to the faint footsteps approaching the door. Joel was surprisingly quiet as he slipped into the room like a shadow in the night. He barely acknowledged your presence as he shuffled to the unoccupied side of the bed. The mattress creaked beneath his weight as he sank down along it.
You laid there unmoving, quiet like a mouse as your eyes squeezed shut from the familiar shrill sound of the metal clasp of his belt clinking. His jeans hit the floor with a soft thud as a silent tear slowly rolled down your cheek. He yanked his shirt over his head in one swift movement before he kicked his boxers down his ankles. You heard him let out a faint sigh as he scrubbed his hand down his patchy beard. You waited for the moment that he would pounce..but it never came as he slowly swung his legs onto the mattress with a soft grunt as he settled back into the pillows. His cock hung heavy between his thighs as he shifted positions ever so slightly. “G’night, little lamb. Sleep tight.” He crooned softly.
Wait..that’s it? No no. What the hell was going on? Didn’t he say he would–
“Goodnight, Joel.” You whispered as you rolled over so your back was facing him. You were on the very edge of the mattress, as far away as you possibly could be from him.
Joel was more than willing to play the long game with you. He was in no rush, and toying with your already fragile mind was part of the fun. He did swear that he wouldn’t touch you without your consent, but he never said anything about not touching himself. He was, after all, a lonely man in some capacity. Perhaps that’s why he had no shame to slowly wrap his fist around the base of his cock while you were laying just a few feet away. He trapped his lower lip between his teeth as he dragged his thumb across the ruddy head, collecting a bead of precum that had weeped from the narrow slit. He twisted his hand slowly as a grunt bubbled up his throat. He pulled his hand back only to filthily spit on it in order to create some lubrication. His head tilted back against the pillows as his mind ran rampant through his filthy desires. “Fuck, that’s it little, lamb.” He hissed between his teeth, digging his heels into the mattress as his cock grew hard and swollen in his grasp.
You could vaguely hear the rustling of the sheets through your light slumber. You thought maybe you were experiencing some vivid dream when you detected Joel’s soft grunt and the unmistakable sound of him spitting into his hand. It felt like your body was betraying you and riding off into the deep end as your thighs subconsciously clenched together. His sounds of gratification only seemed to spur your now awake body to relieve itself in some capacity as your hand slowly snaked down between your thighs. It had been longer than you could remember since you last shared a bed with someone. Perhaps this was all based purely on animalistic instincts as your fingers dipped beneath your panties. Your clit was throbbing for attention as your fingertips skated across it. You bit down on the inside of your cheek hard to suppress a whimper from slipping out, but it was audible enough for Joel to hear it. Once you started, there was no going back as your fingers worked your clit in slow circular motions.
Joel was shocked to say the least. So much so, that his hand had stilled around his cock as he listened to your pathetic little whimpers that you were desperately trying to suppress. You being so unpredictable to him was an absolute turn on. He couldn’t believe that his dirty little lamb was shamelessly playing with herself. Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all. His cock twitched against his stomach as he imagined just how tight your little pussy would hug him, and that’s all it took for him to shred his remaining morale. “What’re you doin’ over there, little lamb?” He whispered through the pale moonlight that casted shadows across the bed frame.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You scrambled to remove your hand from between your thighs as a sense of embarrassment and dread washed over you. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks from the excitement and adrenaline rush of being caught.
“Don’t stop on my account, dirty little lamb. You sounded so desperate to come. Why deprive yourself of that pleasure?” He hummed through his teeth as he gave the base of his cock a firm relieving squeeze. “Or are you seekin’ some assistance? I’d be happy to help..can’t leave your pussy hanging on the edge for that long, little lamb. She deserves better treatment than that.” He tsked disapprovingly.
it was as if a lightbulb had suddenly flashed in your brain. Yes, use this to your advantage. This is what he wants, right? Give it to him. Make him think that you’re submissive. Fuck him stupid and leave when he’s sleeping. Play his game better than he is.
“It hurts.” You pouted as tears of frustration began to slowly drip down the corners of your eyes. You did have to sell the part after all.
“Oh, baby. Don’t cry. I know it hurts..bet it’s been so long since your cunt has been properly taken care of, hmm? When’s the last time she’s been stretched out by a cock?” He asked softly as you felt the mattress dip down from him slowly roll over onto his elbow so he was facing you.
“It’s been too long, sir. I can’t even remember the last time I was properly filled up by a cock. I miss that feeling so much. Will you help me, please? I want you to take care of me, Joel.” You nearly moaned out a plea as your thighs rubbed together beneath the sheets.
Joel’s rough exterior had seemingly melted into a puddle of liquid as you nearly begged him. Who was he to say no to a person in need? Here you were, so willing, so compliant, so submissive, and right where he wanted you to be. “Oh, my poor little lamb. It’s been that long for you? Perhaps I’ll just have to remind your cunt just how good it feels to be properly filled up by a cock, hmm? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Please, Joel. Please remind me how good it feels to be filled up by a cock. I want you to stretch me out..I want to feel you everywhere..think you can handle that, sir?” You were already reaching for his hand as he scooted closer to where your body was laying. You guided his hand between your thighs so he could feel just how wet you were for him. “Please, can’t you feel how wet I am? Please make me feel good, sir.”
His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull from your desperation and neediness as his fingers lightly traced the seam of your panties where he could feel the wetness pooling through the fabric. “I’ll take real good care of you, little lamb. You’re in good hands. We’ll have to take these off so I can get a good look at ya. Bet she’s so fuckin’ pretty. Dyin’ to have a peek.”
He’s a goner.
She’s a goner.
“Take them off, please.” You whimpered as his hands grasped the hem of your panties and slowly pulled them down your thighs. His pupils dilated from the sight of the fabric sticking to your puffy wet pussy. His mouth watered from the sight alone as he discarded your ruined panties to the floor. You felt the warm embrace of his hand wrap around the inside of your thigh as he coaxed it across his lap so he could spread you nice and wide. “Oh, fuck. Look at how swollen she is. Must hurt so much.” He pouted with furrowed brows. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy. I cannot wait to ruin her, my little lamb.” At this angle you were entirely exposed to his greedy eyes as you watched his hand travel southward once more. He used his middle and forefinger to spread your folds open so he could get a better view of your swollen little clit. He appeared to be mesmerized as your tight wet little hole involuntary clenched inwards.
Your moans were anything but fake as his thumb slowly worked your clit into tight circles. He wasn’t lying about the fact that you certainly were in good hands. You were wet enough as it is, but he felt that extra lubrication couldn’t hurt as he spat a glob of saliva between his fingers and rubbed it in. He soon had two fingers knuckle deep inside of you as he slowly curled them inwards. “Gotta get you nice and relaxed for me, baby. I don’t wanna hurt ya, and you’re being such a good little lamb for me. I think I’ll just have to reward you for that. How does that sound?” His eyes drifted upwards so he could see your face twist with pleasure as your toes curled inwards.
“Oh, sir.” You moaned wantonly. “That feels so fucking good. Please don’t stop. I promise I’ll keep being your good little lamb. Can you show me your cock, Joel? I want to see it. I bet it’s so big..what if it doesn’t fit?”
He shifted his hips upwards so you could get a good look at his dick. He watched your eyes widen the slightest at the sight of him. Heavy set balls, dark coarse hair, and by far the thickest cock you had ever feasted your eyes upon. “Shh, we’ll make it fit. It’ll feel so fuckin’ good once I’m stretching you out, little lamb. You just gotta trust me. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you trust me?”
“Mhmm. I can trust you, sir. I know you’ll take extra good care of me. Please don’t make me wait much longer..please be good to me.”
He pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple as he felt the walls of your pussy clench down around his thick digits. The squelching sound sent blood quickly flowing southwards as his cock twitched against his thigh. As soon as he slipped his fingers out of you, he knelt between your thighs with one hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock as he twisted his wrist a couple times. His freehand was wrapped around the underside of your thigh as he brought it around his shoulder with your heel resting along his firm shoulder blade. “Good little lamb. I’m goin’ fill this pretty little pussy up just the way that she deserves, okay? See, I told you that bein’ my pet wasn’t gonna be so bad. I knew you’d warm up to me eventually.” He mumbled under his breath as he slowly dragged his tip between your folds, rutting his hips forward slowly. The tip of his cock bumped against your already sensitive clit with each gentle thrust.
Your brain felt like a scrambled egg that was being mentally toyed and fucked with. This sick man could have easily fucked you like a rag doll into his mattress, and instead he was choosing to take things slow. Why? You couldn’t wrap your head around his reasoning, or if this was truly just another piece to his game, but Jesus fuck, there was no denying that it felt fucking incredible.
Your words came out like slurred jarble as your mouth slowly felt open when you felt him slowly start to sink inside of you, stretching you open, filling you up just like his promise. It felt like his cock was splitting you in two the further he pressed into you. He coaxed you gently when you clawed at his forearms. Shushing you with featherlight kisses to your cheekbones when he had bottomed out. Your leg fell limp around his shoulder when he had slowly pulled his hips back before jutting them forward.
He was fucking you deliciously deep as the matress squeaked from the movement. He was watching your face for any signs of discomfort as you struggled to figure out where he started, and where he ended. Your pussy hugged him tight as it drew him in deeper with each thrust. His hand nearly engulfed your hip as his thumb lightly pressed down along your lower abdomen where he could feel the tip of his cock just barely kissing your cervix. “Can you feel me right there, little lamb? You’re doing so good for me. So fuckin’ good. Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had. She’s huggin’ me so good.” His grunts mixed with your sharp moans as you struggled to not completely throw your plan out the window. In this position it was hard to gain any sense of control; it was time to switch things up.
“Joel, baby.” You mewled softly as your hips rolled forward to meet his thrusts. “I wanna try something that I think you’ll really like..I wanna be on top. You must be so exhausted from dealing with me all day..why don’t you lay back and I’ll do all the work?” You suggested with a harsh breath as he leaned down over you. You could feel the broad weight of his chest pressing down against you as his lips brushed across the shell of your ear, “that’s the best idea you’ve had all goddamn day, little lamb.”
Even after your handsome offering, he wasn’t quite ready to slip out of your warmth just yet. Now that he had a taste, there was no way in hell that he was about to let you go from his grasp. He had consumed you completely to the point where it felt like you were being suffocated by his sheer mass and the way he managed to hit that spongy spot inside of you with every profound intense induced thrust. His wiry patchy beard scraped at the soft skin of your cheek as he drove himself further. “Jus’ gimme a little more time with ya like this. You feel so fuckin’ good around me. Jus’ a little longer.” He stuttered between harsh jagged breaths that fluttered across the shell of your ear. His teeth nipped, scraped at the skin as the musty scent of his sweat melded into yours. Skin on skin: with no point of relief.
When he finally began to slowly slip out of your tight wet walls, it appeared that your body was reluctant to let go of him based on the way your pussy clenched around him tightly like a fist. He chuckled low and deep as he watched a mixture of your release and his own leak out of your tight fucked out hole. It glistened along the apex of your thighs, trailing down your skin, dripping along the once unsoiled comforter.
“My my, little lamb. You’ve gone and made quite the mess of yourself hmm?” He teased as he slowly dragged his pointer finger through the mixture of fluids as if he was creating an erotic painting, and his finger was the steady brush.
Focus. Focus. Focus. Your brain chanted at you relentlessly.
“Hnngh..mhm..i’ve made such a mess of myself, sir. Will you please clean me up?”
He smirked cruelly through the pale moonlight that danced across your skin as he scooted himself back on his knees, his cock brushing against the comforter and creating just enough stimulation for him to be satisfied for the time being. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can give you an itty-bitty reward.” He mused as his eyes locked in on your glistening pussy just begging to be kissed. Your lashes fluttered when you felt his hot breath fan your core. Might as well get all the use out of him that you could get.
He pressed open mouth kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Sucking, licking, kissing around where you craved him most. The second those sinful lips latched onto your swollen clit, a carnal need washed over both of you as he devoured you whole. His tongue worked you in languid strokes as he made sure to lick up every last drop. Your orgasm was steadfast approaching as the coil in your stomach tightened. Your thighs clamped firmly around his head like a stubborn shell. If it were any other situation, you’d let him eat you for hours, days even, but you had to stick to your plan.
He wasn’t letting up easily as you used all your strength to push his head from between your thighs. His beard and lips were coated in your slick as he finally released you from his death grip. There was no time to catch your breath as his strong arms were already hosting you into his lap as he lazily rolled over onto his back with a soft grunt.
“Keep bein’ my good little lamb, and you’ll wake up every mornin’ with my head between your thighs.” He nearly purred as his hands anchored themselves around your hips. You could feel the head of his cock notching at your entrance as you slowly sank down against his bulky strong thighs. It took a mere moment for you to snap back into character and keep up with your charades as you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock. “I’m going to take care of you now okay, Joel? You’ve been so good to me. I’m so grateful for your generous hospitality and your cock. I just want you to sit back and relax..can you do that for me, baby?” You held all the control in the palm of your hand as you slowly slid his tip between your slit. Your little noises of appreciation had his head spinning in circles as he squeezed your hips firmly.
“M’gonna keep you forever, just like this. Stuffed full of my cock. Filled to the fuckin’ brim.” He hissed between his teeth as you slowly inched yourself around him till he had filled you to the hilt. “M’so lucky to have a good little lamb like you, baby. My good little cockslut. It ain’t so bad, is it? Mmm..maybe you and I are more alike than you think.” He murmured with a lazy grin etched on his face as he gazed up at you through thick lashes.
“Of course i’ll be your good little lamb forever and ever, sir.” You played along as you slowly rolled your hips forward. “I’ll be so good to you just like you have been to me.” Now you had him right where you wanted him and it was only a matter of time. You affectionately played with his sweat stained curls, licked the musk from his neck as you inhaled his masculine aroma that seeped from his pores. You nipped at his flesh and left little love bites speckled across his skin. You fucked him the best way that you could, spending what was left of your dwindling energy to convince this man that you were submitting to him entirely. Each roll of your hips, and smack of your skin transported him to a new state of pure ecstasy. He didn’t last very long considering he was fairly spent himself. He let out a deep guttural animalistic grunt that ruptured from deep within his chest as he spilled his seed into you. He could feel both yours and his release drip down between where your bodies were connected. He praised in a soft tone, mumbling about how he was going to fall asleep just like this. “Y’stay right there, little lamb. Gonna keep you stuffed full of my cock all night.” He rasped as his lashes fluttered shut.
By all means, sir. Keep me stuffed full of your cock, because come morning, you’ll be waking up to an empty, cold, miserable bed. You fucking idiot.
He dozed off, still buried deep inside of your cunt as you sat there obediently. You listened to the sound of his breathing return to a normal rate as soft snores slipped past his parted lips. Only when you were certain that he wouldn’t awake from his sex induced slumber, did you finally slip off of his lap. You could feel the sticky residue of his come latching onto your thighs as his cock went soft. You gathered up the clothes he had given you as you rushed to dress and get the hell out of there. You were as quiet as a mouse as you crept out of his room. Your eyes zoned in on the rifle hanging along the hook next to the door.
You were so close to freedom you could almost taste it as you unlatched the door and began to slowly push the handle down–
“Where are you runnin’ off to, little lamb?” His tone was low and menacing as you felt the hardness of his chest press against your back. In one swift movement he had pulled the door shut with a heavy slam that rattled your bones to the core. You went to reach for his rifle but he was on you in a flash as he twisted your arms painfully behind your back. He knocked you forward against the wooden door with your cheek pressed firmly into the rough texture of the wood. When you didn’t respond to his original question, he asked again, but a lot less nicer.
“I said, where the fuck do you think you’re runnin’ off to, little lamb? Y’think you can play me for a goddamn fool?!” He bellowed. His harsh words bounced off the walls of the cabin as you struggled in his painful grip. “After I fed you, put clothes on your back and fucked you dumb, you think you can jus’ fuckin’ leave?!”
“Sir, I'm so sorry! You have it all wrong! I—just wanted to get some fresh air! I was going to come right back, I swear!” You took the pleading route in hopes that maybe he’d show you just a smidge of mercy. “I’d never leave you!”
He laughed darkly as he shoved you further into the door, creating little to no space for you to breathe. “Fuckin’ save it. You’re a goddamn filthy liar, little lamb! You were leavin’ me! What a fuckin’ shame too because you were being so so good. Pity, because I was actually thinking of letting you go myself.” He lied straight through his teeth as he forced his knee between your thighs and spread them apart. His hand that wasn’t holding your wrists painfully together wrapped around your middle as he yanked you roughly against his chest. His lips were right at your ear now. “You were being such a good little lamb for me, that I was beginning to feel sorry for taking you away..I was going to let you go first thing in the morning, but you just had to go and fuckin’ ruin it for yourself, huh?” He tsked
Fresh tears began to cascade down your face as you continued to try and break free. Your hope was quickly diminishing like a candle being blown out as he twisted your wrists at an unnatural angle. “PLEASE!” You begged, “I’m so sorry, sir! Please don’t kill me! I–I–can make it up to you, I swear!”
“Kill you? Oh, my dear sweet little lamb, you really haven’t been payin’ attention, have you? I’m not going to kill you. You’re far too pretty to be feasted on by some critters. That simply won’t do.” His hand that was securely wrapped around your middle snaked upwards as he roughly groped your breast through the fabric of your shirt. “Quit your fuckin’ squirming. You ain’t gettin’ yourself outta this one, little lamb.”
“Please, please let me go! I’m–I'm sorry for not being a good pet! I can do better! Please, Joel! You’re hurting me!” You cried out for mercy.
“Now, you’re gonna sit still and be a good little lamb, or I'll feed you to the wolves just outside my door.” He whispered harshly as he dropped his hand from around your breast only to then find the button on your pants before he yanked them down your thighs. Your pussy was sore and overstimulated when he pressed the ruddy head of his cock between your thighs. “Can’t you hear ‘em howlin?’ Bet they’re fistin’ their cocks right now thinkin’ about how your pretty little cunt would hug them so tight. S’only for me, right? This cunt belongs to me. Don’t fuckn’ gimme a reason to share.” He hissed as he harshly thrusted up into you, knocking the air from your lungs as his hand wrapped around your throat.
Your words came out as strangled cries as he continued to ram into you. “Can’tcha hear ‘em now? Beggin’ for this cunt. C’mon, little lamb. Scream for me. Let them know just how good daddy is treatin’ ya. Don’t you fuckin’ hold back.” His thumb and forefinger pressed firmly against your trachea making it harder for oxygen to reach your brain as your body went into distress mode. The more you fought, the tighter he held you. When you could begin to see stars dancing behind your eyelids, and your breath came out in a weak wheezing sound, he finally released you from his death grip.
You buckled over, gasping for air as your knees hit the floor with a sickening thud.
“Don’t you ever try to outsmart me again, little lamb.” He was standing over you like an ominous shadow as choked sobs raked through your body.
“Now, get the fuck back to bed, or i’ll drag you there myself.”
You took his threat seriously as you scrambled to your feet and scurried back to his room.
You never crossed him again, and for good reason. He apologized for his actions the next morning over breakfast. You weren’t very hungry, but forced yourself to eat for your own sake. Now you were his broken and submissive little lamb.
He did keep his promise of keeping you safe from all harm. Once enough trust was instilled, he allowed you to accompany him outside. He taught you all that he knew during those months. You found it hard to not begin to fall for him when he showed you his gentler side. It felt wrong, but right at the same time to love a man who was so cruel. He stripped you of your autonomy, and then stitched it right back together with his own needle and thread. You adapted to his lifestyle as if it was the back of your hand. Accompanying him on raids, torturing helpless individuals for the sheer thrill it felt to hold another person’s life in the palm of your hands.
Maybe you were sicker than he was.
This winter was proving to be unforgiving. Supplies and rations were low, and Joel’s men were growing antsy. Their leader was spending too much time tucked away in his cabin with you, and it was only a matter of time before someone would lash out. You were still fast asleep tucked away cozily in Joel’s warm bed while he called a meeting with the rest of the group.
“I say we head west. There ain’t nothin’ left here for us.” One of his men stated, and heads began to slowly nod in agreement.
“West? Why the hell would we go and do that? We got a decent territory here, and I'm this close to gettin’ us into the QZ. Jus’ have to twist a few more fingers to get us there. This ain’t the worst winter we’ve had. Don’t go and act like a bunch of fuckin’ pussies just because you’re afraid that your dicks are gonna freeze off.” He snapped.
“Easy enough for you to say, Miller. You’re the one who’s got a cockslut keepin’ you warm on the cold nights. What about the rest of us, huh? Can’t be bothered to share your prize?”
Joel could feel his blood begin to simmer as he slowly turned his head to the side. His eyes were narrowed into slits as his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “What the fuck did you jus’ call her?” His tone was eerily calm as he did his best to keep his temper at bay. You were off limits; end of story.
“You heard me. Bet that cockslut of yours was the one who suggested we stay here. That’s why it ain’t good to keep women around for long. They talk and talk and think that they have the answer for everything! Well, you know what I gotta say to that? Keep ‘em around to keep your cock warm and toss ‘em when they grow smart. That’s all they’re good for anyway. Jus’ a tight wet hole to fuck.”
The prominent veins in Joel’s neck bulged to the surface of his neck. His skin was so hot that the swirling flurries that landed on him immediately melted. His face grew red with rage. You were far more than just a hole to fuck. You were his little lamb, and god help any motherfuckers that dare disrespect his little lamb.
“I should fuckin’ carve your tongue out for that. She is not my cockslut.” If Joel’s men were smart, they’d back off while they still had the chance, but men will be men after all.
“Oh, please! Is her pussy really all that? Look at how soft you’ve gone, Miller! I say you dispose of her while you still have the chance. Oh, but before you do that, bring her out for a spin. We’ve been dyin’ to see what her cunt is all about.”
It was as if something inside of Joel had suddenly snapped and he found his hands constricted around the man’s neck. Joel had him pinned to the snow covered ground as the man thrashed around violently. No one dared to try and stop their leader until they heard the crunching of snow beneath boots as your voice drifted through the brewing blizzard like a rumbling echo
Joel’s head snapped in the direction of your voice as he loosened his grip around the man’s neck slightly. “Baby, what the fuck are you doin’ out here? It’s freezing! Get back inside–”
You were quick to cut him off as you approached the scene that was laid out in front of you. You ignored his present concern for your wellbeing as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What the fuck is going on here, Joel?”
“Seth said some shit that he really oughta have kept to himself. S’alright. I got this one handled. Why don’t you go on back home where it’s warm.”
“No. I want you to tell me what he said.” You stood firm
Joel eyed the rest of his men who were all looking much like sheep themselves. “He called you a cockslut, and that all a woman is good for is a tight wet hole to fuck.” He deadpanned.
You appeared unfazed sans the slight arch of your brow. “Really?” You scoffed. “How original. Don’t you think that strangling him is a bit too merciful?”
“Well, before you came out here, I threatened to carve his tongue out.”
“Oh?” You asked with a lopsided grin. “Now that is more your style, baby. Wanna use my knife? I just sharpened it the other day.”
Seth was nervously looking between yours and Joel’s sadistic grins as he struggled to escape. All Joel had to do was snap his fingers once for two of his men to then force Seth down by his shoulders, and physically pry his jaw open as he thrashed wildly on the ground.
“My little lamb, you’re so sick..y’know that?” He was already reaching for your outstretched knife before his hand encased around your wrist and gently tugged you down into the snow. “Front row seat jus’ for you, baby. Don’t worry, he’ll never say another word about you again.” he sealed his promise to you against your lips before he was pulling away to finish off the job.
“S’matter, Seth? Cat got your tongue?” Joel crooned as grabbed the back of his head and yanked it forward. “This oughta teach ya to respect women.”
“Joel–wait! Please don’t do this! I’m sorry! I’m–” Seth’s pleas were violently cut off when Joel sliced right through his tongue. Blood spattered and squirted from the gushing wound as his once attached muscle now laid limp in the snow.
“Oh, what was that? You’re sorry? It’s a bit too late for that, pal.” Joel spat before he picked up the chunk of Seth’s mutilated tongue and tossed it right into the nearby fire pit.
“Get him outta my sight before I decide to rip his throat out too. Tie him up to a tree a few miles from here. Leave him to the wolves. They’ll finish him off.” He demanded his men as he wiped the blood from your knife along Seth’s shirt.
His hand reached for yours to help you up from the ground. You held no shame to admit that watching Joel mutilate someone in front of you so willingly sent a wave of arousal gushing between your clenched thighs, and you probably would have fucked him right then and there and let his men watch because none of that really mattered anymore. You opted to pull him behind a cluster of trees instead as you dropped to your knees ceremoniously in the bitter cold snow that instantly bit at your exposed bare skin. Your hands clawed for his belt as you desperately unlatched it and shoved his jeans down his thighs swiftly. Your cheeks felt cold to the touch as Joel’s hand affectionately held your face in his warm palm as you pulled his stiff cock free. His heart swelled with pure pride for his good little lamb.
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lyraelizabethfay · 6 months
Text
Cupcakes aren’t always the solution.
Vanessa Shelly x Reader
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Summary: On one of your shifts you head to the kitchen to grab some food, only for Chica to steal one of your cupcakes. When Chica then ‘accidentally’ breaks down, you have no other choice but to call your police girlfriend who won’t be happy.
Warnings: N/A
Content: Fluff, Chica loving food
A/N: literally my first time writing anything on here so let’s see how this goes! Thought I might add to the lack of Ness fics out there, because the LOVE I have for this woman is an understatement 🫶🏻
Word count: 1111 (that wasn’t on purpose)
Prompts: ‘We have a problem’
‘No, no YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps getting into one’
&
‘Are you even listening to me?’
‘Yes. It’s just taking a while to process your stupidity’
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You sat in the security office of Freddy’s your hands aimlessly spinning the chair you currently sat on as you watched the monitors. You had to admit even though your shift only started 3 hours ago you were bored out of your mind. Looking down at your watch which blinked 03:24 you couldn’t believe you’d only been sat here for 20 or so minuets. You continued to spin in your chair when an idea hit you, the other day you had hid cupcakes in one of the cabinets in the kitchen incase you needed something to eat on the job, so like any sane person does at 3Am you went to go get them. You’d stopped spinning in your chair, stood up and walked towards the office door.
Once you pushed open the door to the office you couldn’t help but feel your heart jump into your mouth, Chica was there hand raised as if she was about to knock. Your hand was placed over your chest, your heart pounding ‘Chica! Not funny’ you said a slight muse to your voice, as you gave her a pat on the arm that was still raised. You guessed she was just as bored as you were, so you had an idea. ‘I’m on my way to the kitchen to grab a snack, wanna come?’. The large animatronic nodded her head, and you both walked towards the kitchen.
‘Right here we go!’ You exclaim excitedly as you make it to the kitchen door, which was thrown open in a matter of seconds as you rushed in followed by Chica. You headed straight for the cabinet next to the fridge and low and behold your stash of cupcakes are still there which you had hidden a few days ago. You grab the tray and turn around to face Chica. ‘Shall we take these to the the guys and see if they want to chill?’ You question (guys being the rest of the animatronics). Chica replied with a slow blink and turned around to make her way to the stage, you followed behind her.
Once in the main area Bonnie, Freddy and Foxy made their way off of the stage to come join you and Chica, you had placed the cupcakes down on a table and taken one while the rest of the animatronics stared at you. ‘Sorry guys, if you eat one of these you’ll malfunction, if I don’t eat one of these I’ll malfunction’ you muttered the last part feeling guilty, since you had started dating Vanessa she told you about her father. William Afton. And what he’d done to the kids, so eating a cupcake in front of the them made you feel a little guilty but you still wanted to eat something. And after that the night had gone on per usual, you had played a few arcade games with Freddy and Foxy all three of you trying to beat each others scores, Chica was probably somewhere with Bonnie but what you didn’t realise is that you’d left the cupcakes uncovered around her, if all the animatronics Chica loved food. Maybe love was an understatement.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Bonnie who if he could would probably call you an idiot, his arm was raised and pointed at Chica who was stood next to the table where the cupcakes were, bent over slightly not moving with a cupcake in her hand. Of course this had to happen to you, you couldn’t have had the smallest common sense to close the cupcake lid. You looked at Freddy who was peering over Foxy’s shoulder as he tried to beat your high score at skee-ball, but it wasn’t the best with only one hand. ‘I’ll sort it’ you nodded at Bonnie as you walked over to Chica, Bonnie rather than following you stayed with Freddy and Foxy.
‘Right, let’s see what happened here’ you mumble to yourself, as heavy as the animatronic was you managed to get her to sit in a table out of sight of the other three, once sat down you managed to open up Chica’s stomach so you could see her endoskelenton and open up her beak. When you realised there were the remains of cupcakes lodged in some places you knew who you had to call, you just didn’t want to. Picking up your phone from your back pocket, you dialled the number dreading the response.
‘Hello?’ The voice from the phone had spoken, and you hadn’t realised it.
‘Hello, Y/N? Is everything all right?’ There it was again, hearing your name you snapped out of it shaking your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.
‘Yeah I’m here’ You said
‘Good, is everything all right?’
‘Yeah..umm look Ness we have a problem’ You stated, which was one of the good things about being Vanessa’s girlfriend was that you could be straightforward with each other, she would never be mad at you, well maybe this once for possibly breaking an animatronic.
‘No, no YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps getting into one’ you heard Vanessa laugh on the other side of the phone, your breathing slowed, you knew it, she’d never be mad at you. You took a deep breath and explained your problem, of how you accidentally forgot to cover the cupcakes and that it had caused Chica to malfunction when she ate one, but after a while you’d realised it had gone silent.
‘Are you even listening to me?’ You asked, to which Vanessa chuckled in the other side of the phone.
‘Yes. It’s just taking a while to process your stupidity’
‘Hey I’m not stupid’ you protested but in reality you know it was stupid what you’d done. ‘Can you please just come and help me?’
‘Fine, your lucky I was going to call anyway’
After finishing your discussion with Vanessa you hung up the phone waiting for her to arrive. After about 20 minuets maybe half hour you heard the buzzer going for the door and ran towards it, the others knew what had happened to Chica and if they could talk you swear they’d be laughing at you. Once you made it to the front door you opened it to reveal Vanessa, stood in her police uniform.
‘Thank god your here’ You mumble embarrassed as you rub the back of your neck.
‘Yep, your lord and saviour’ she’d laugh, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss, which you felt yourself smile into.
‘Now come on’ she nodded ‘let’s go fix Chica’. She said grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the animatronic.
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