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#(it fucks with your psyche and it sure as hell fucked with his)

alexlwrites · 3 months

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from my notes app:

Just picture it: Yoongi who just... never had a crush. Sure, he has felt attraction that sometimes evolved into something more through dates or other encounters. But a crush? Feet kicking, face blushing, giddy giggles? No, he couldn't say he ever experienced that.

Until you.

Until you showed up, a new manager at the company, and left him shaking in his disconcertingly large boots. You were bright, witty, charismatic and hard working and he stood there, arms hanging by his side awkwardly like a damn emoji, hovering around you unsure about what to do, what to say, how to act.

It was so frustrating! He never felt this way before and at 30 years old he felt as if he was going through a late puberty: voice cracking when he tried talking to you, waking up sweating from a dream way too realistic, poorly timed boners when he saw you walking around the office with skin tight pencil skirts.

His so called friend weren't making it any easier for him: Yoongi had officially become the butt of every joke as the members collectively regressed back to the 5th grade, murmuring everytime you showed up "here comes your wife, hyung, here comes Mrs. Suga".

Thankfully, you seemed unaware of their jabs, even as yoongi's pale cheeks blushed fiercely at the name.

He didn't know whether to be greatful or resentful for your obliviousness. On one side, you didn’t seem to hear the constant on going teasing from the other 6 raccoons he shared a band with, which saved yoongi from the swift death at the pearly hands of embarrassment, ripping his dramatic soul from his even more dramatic body.

On the other hand, you couldn’t seem to take a hint! He tried all of his best moves: standing there silently next to you, offering you a single tangerine, playing the guitar when you walked in whilst offering absolutely no explanation or context, even wearing his most scandalous, whorish outfit: a white tshirt that showed his collarbones instead of his usual 37 layers of clothing.

He didn't know how to make it any more obvious! Should he just take you against the wall of his studio (he totally should!, his lower brain unhelpfully provided as you once again strutted past him leaving him sniffing after your perfume like the fucking dog he was)?

He even tried asking his friends for advice, the lowest form of humiliation possible: Jungkook offered only baby oil and told him to lose a couple buttons. Hoseok made him couple matching beaded bracelets. And Namjoon, scorpio venus horndog, told him to actually go through with the wall taking idea.

Funnily enough, Jin was the one with the most plausible idea: give her a gift, bake her something! Homemade goods would show her how much you care.

So there he was, at thirty years old, holding onto a plate of cookies like a lifeline, cold sweating in front of your office, ready to flee the building and suck up those cookies like a hungry Kirby and mop in his own lameness like the international grammy nominee celebrity he was.

And then you opened the door and his body just reacted on his own, thrusting the plate towards you silently as his eyes screamed pure panic.

"For me?" You asked and he just nodded "Thank you so much, you are so sweet!"

Yoongi felt his lips curving and even without a mirror he could tell he had a dumbstruck smile on his face.

"What's the occasion?"

Ask her out, he urged himself. Tell her how you feel, how you can't stop thinking about her face, how her smile fuled his daydreams and her perfume haunts his days, bleeding into his psyche and sinking its claws into his heart, turning every song he wrote into a proclamation of adoration and lust, tell her how...

"Hm, for all y-your hard wo-work" he sputtered, mentally face palming himself at his own words.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

(Part 2>>>)

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts fluff #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader

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skylarsblue · 1 year

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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦

Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*

-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-

-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-

-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…

-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.

-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-

-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-

-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!

-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)

-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-

-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.

-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.

-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.

-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-

-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.

-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-

-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?

-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.

(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)

-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.

-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.

-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.

--

(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.

-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.

-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!

-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-

-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.

-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.

-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.

-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.

-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!

-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.

-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.

-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*

-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*

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perrywrites · 6 months

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I really want a part 4 of "asking 'Can you… Can you hold my hand?' during your first time together" With Rin, Rensuke and Sae plsssss

Thank you!

OMG... YES... My hero hubby how could I ever forget about him 😭😭😭

Asking “Can you… Can you hold my hand?” during your first time together, part 4;

NSFW

Part 1 (Isagi, Hiori, Bachira) and Part 2 (Barou, Shidou, Karasu) and part 3 (Reo, Chigiri, Nagi) and part 5 (Otoya, Oliver, Yukimiya) and part 6 (Kaiser, Ness, Kiyora)

Includes; Rin, Sae, Kunigami

Rin: he hovers above you, his much larger form eclipsing your trembling body, his eyes as intense as ever as he soaks in your vulnerable position. You don’t know, do you, how long he’s been waiting for this? Not to fuck you, but to make love to you, like this? Have you beneath him like this, all vulnerable, an intimate sight, see you in a way no one else ever has and never will - he’ll make sure of it. Because, after all, Itoshi Rin doesn’t give away his heart easily, he never meant to give it away at all, but then you came along and turned him into a man that would fall apart if you decided you didn’t want him anymore. There was no way he was going to let you go now, his weakness and his only balm. So, he indulges in you, instead, pouring all of his passion into his kisses, he knows exactly how to make you weak, soaking in your whimpers as you weakly hold onto him. That’s right, he’s your anchor, rely on him, hold onto him, because he’s going to make you fall apart right now under him, and he’ll be the one to piece you back together, hold you in his arms. It’ll always be him. He’ll keep on proving it, his hands pulling your legs apart as he nestles inbetween them, his grip now firm on your doughy thighs. He suppresses a groan as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on it teasingly - don’t get cuter, dammit, do you want him to become even more impatient than he already is? With a low growl, he grabs onto one of your hands, pinning your wrist down - and you whimper at this, shyly avoiding his eyes as you make that cute little request of him. His pretty eyes widen just the tiniest bit, heart stuttering in his chest, and a profound longing for you fills him even though you’re right there. And he wonders, if you knew, just exactly how crazy you make him? More than anything else? He scoffs, but it’s weak, and he reaches his hand out to yours, his grasp gentle but firm as he interlocks your fingers together. “... You’re such an idiot.” But his words lack any bite as he leans his head back in towards you to capture your lips. You don’t know how desperate you make him, do you? How badly he yearns for you? He needs you, dammit, but hell would freeze over before he’d ever admit that. For now, he’ll just take you to heaven and back, make you cry out his name, and have you keep looking up at him with those dazed starry eyes. He can only ever be satisfied if he makes you as crazy for him as he is for you, because that might be the only way he can ensure you don’t leave him for someone else. Please, don’t leave, please. He’ll fall apart. You don’t understand how much you mean to him.

Sae: he has you pinned beneath him, ready to be defiled by him, as he looks on at your form with a seemingly impassive gaze, but you can tell his eyes are softer - and definitely teasing. You can tell he’s amused by you - and he is, he so is. He finds the way you tremble beneath him, the flush of your body deepening, the dewiness of your eyes, all of it to be so fascinating. He adores the sweet sounds he can elicit from your lips with ease, smirking lightly at how sensitive he has you over his touch. You’re all nervous and shy, like a bunny, and something about that both melts his heart (though he would rather die than admit that) and strokes a very depraved flame within his psyche. Seeing you like this, all shy, large doe-eyes, so pure and innocent, all of it makes him want to absolutely ruin you on his cock. Make you cry, sob, and then beg for him as he fucks you up. Something about the idea that taking your first time will make you belong to him in a way no man can ever overwrite heats him up in a way he just can’t explain to you - or to anyone else, really. It’s when he positions himself over you with his darkened eyes that you blurt out something that momentarily catches Sae off guard. He raises an eyebrow, and then he chuckles softly, in that low hoarse voice of his, before he leans in to press a chaste kiss against your cheek. “... You’re such a brat,” he mumbles against your skin, dragging his lips over to nibble on your ear. The pride, and hunger, in his chest grows at your sweet whine, and he slowly interlaces your fingers together, giving you what you want with fond exasperation. You’re his responsibility after all, so he’ll take care of you then, make you full on his cock and teach you there’s no man out there better for you than he is. After all, you’ve already tainted him with your colour, so it’s only fair if he gets to taint you in return, right?

Kunigami: he’s so careful with you, ever the gentleman, treating you like you’re delicate, a flower, or porcelain, or something even more fragile. But, you’re not a flower, or porcelain, you’re a person, with warm soft flesh, and each time he touches you, you shiver and react - whining for him, whining for more. He’s so troubled, each sweet sound that leaves you makes his mind hazy, makes his eyes darken. His rough hands ghost over your body, and squeeze firmly but oh so gently, he’s so careful, so please, for the love of dear god stop being so tempting. Because - because he can feel his self-restraint slipping in the way he grips your hips a little too hard, eager to revel in and satisfy himself through you, and that’s no good. He presses a slightly rough kiss against your lips, drinking in your sounds and muffling them as much as he can. It’s no good, dammit. Don’t be so sweet-sounding, please, don’t look up at him all adoringly, lashline wet as you call out his name like that. You don’t know half the filth in his mind, how badly he wants to defile you and corrupt you, he’s embarrassed by it, honestly. He can feel his head grow fuzzy, cock twitching painfully. The longer he delays this, the less confident he becomes about his self-control, so he hoarsely asks you if you’re ready before positioning himself. And then he freezes when you shyly ask him to hold your hand. How are you this adorable, fuck? He smiles at you reassuringly, pressing sweet kisses all over your face as he reaches out for your hand. How is someone so sweet like you letting him take your first time? He’s so in love with you, fuck. He’s so glad you trust him this much, that you’re letting him be the man in your life. He’ll be so gentle with you, fuck, no matter how badly he wants to pound into you, he’ll treat you right, so right. He’ll make sure you never regret him or your first time, ever, after all this night is about both you and him. Defiling you be damned, he’ll love you, and he’ll love you so right, dammit. You’re the love of his life, don’t worry, he promises to keep you safe and cherish you forever.

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wholoveseggs · 5 months

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~♡~Dating the Mikaelsons~♡~

One-Shot Edition

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18+ ---- {Masterlist}

♡A date with Elijah♡

You are at the compound to confess your feelings to Elijah, as your nerves get the better of you, he finds a way to help you relax.

In celebration of getting to one-hundred followers I wrote some smutty one-shots based on my dating the mikaelsons headcanons.

♡ Thanks for all the love and support ♡

Warnings: smut, oral, my bias towards Elijah cannot be tamed ♡♡

{Part One -Klaus} ♡ {Part Two - Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel}

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Your heart was beating so rapidly you were sure he heard it before you even entered the compound. As you passed the iron gates you held your hand out, observing how much you were trembling. You took slow, deep breaths, willing yourself to relax.

You had been nervous before you'd come but nothing like this. When you and Elijah had first met you had felt an instant connection. You could tell the attraction was mutual. His eyes watched you as you moved around the room, scanning your body. But he made no move towards you, that was just his nature, always polite, always a gentleman.

But that had been five weeks ago. The air was alight with tension. You had practically fucked him with your eyes, you had pulled every trick in the book to seduce him, and it seemed as though he was unphased.

You sighed heavily, and you wondered if he actually did like you. Maybe you had completely misread the situation and were falling for a man that you didn't even stand a chance with.

But today was the day you were going to put yourself on the line. You were going to lay it all out, either he accepted or he rejected you. And hopefully rejected didn't mean get the hell out.

You stood with your hand on the banister, psyching yourself up to make the move and knock on his door. You cursed when you lost your nerve and stepped to the bottom of the stairs, pacing up and down on the landing.

At the fifth round of pacing you stopped and let out a frustrated cry. Even if he didn't feel the same, he wouldn't be cruel, he would be polite and let you down gently and try to not make things awkward. If you didn't just do it now you were never going to be brave enough.

"Hello there," his deep, intoxicating voice interrupted your internal anguish.

"H...hello," you said, standing in shock. He smiled down at you, a true, genuine smile and you suddenly relaxed.

"Are you alright? What are you doing here?" he asked, a little confused at seeing you standing on the compound's staircase looking like you had just seen a ghost.

"Well, I...I came to see you...I, er I wanted to talk to you...can we talk?" you blurted. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you tried to compose yourself, you felt like a teenage girl asking a boy on a date, and the realization made you smile to yourself.

"Is everything ok? Is it Niklaus?" he asked, a little concerned, he moved to the bottom of the steps, slightly closer to you.

"Everything is ok, I promise. Can we talk somewhere private? Privately? Privately...alone..." you babbled. Your nerves were getting the better of you as he had taken you completely by surprise with his sudden appearance.

He laughed a soft, low, melodic laugh and the sound flooded your stomach with butterflies, your hands began to shake again. He noticed you trembling, and took your hands in his, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs, his actions completely not helping your nerves.

"Your heart is beating quite fast. Are you sure you're feeling quite alright?" he asked with a slight smirk.

You nodded, a little breathless. He was close, so close, too close, you looked down at the floor, finding it hard to meet his eyes, you never realized how intimate holding hands could be.

"Where would you like to go to talk? Somewhere you feel comfortable?" he asked softly, concern creeping into his voice.

"Your bedroom," you blurted again, then wished the earth would swallow you up. You just couldn't help yourself. He seemed to find it amusing, once again letting out the delightful laugh that made your stomach turn backflips,

"Are you suggesting that I take you to bed?" he asked, teasing you.

You blushed, so thankful that he was flirting and you hadn't fucked everything up. It was reassuring enough for you to look him in the eye and tease him back.

"Are you saying you'd like to take me to bed?" you replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

He watched you carefully for a moment, then suddenly got serious. He took another step closer, your hands still firmly grasped in his. He brought them up to his mouth, kissing the back of your hands, never breaking eye contact. You felt weak, your heart was hammering in your chest and you willed yourself to make a move.

You pulled him in closer, closing the distance between your lips, his hand moved to the back of your neck, gently drawing you in, cradling your head. Your lips barely touched at first, your eyes remained open, studying each others expressions. Elijah brought his lips to yours again, this time, it was gentle, soft, passionate. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his lips slowly move against yours, his other hand on the small of your back, pressing your body against his.

You parted, your breathing heavy and labored, he rested his forehead against yours, not allowing too much distance. He stroked his thumb over your cheek, looking deep into your eyes, suddenly you weren't worried anymore, not even a little bit. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

He pressed his lips to yours once more, in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulled away, taking your hand in his, "Come," was all he said, his face tender and loving as he gently led you up the stairs.

You reached his bedroom, he turned to face you, a small, shy smile on his lips. You had never seen him look shy or nervous before. His eyes met yours and he cupped your face, stroking your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

"Is this why you came here today?" he asked, his voice quiet, unsure.

You nodded, a slow smile forming, your hands resting on his chest. "Why did you think I came?"

He shrugged, a little embarrassed.

"Elijah, I've been flirting with you since the first day I met you. I was hoping it would get to a point where you would want to kiss me," you smiled, reaching up and stroking his hair.

He gave you a shy grin and averted his gaze before looking at you, clearly wanting to say something, not sure if he should.

"You are so beautiful, and my world is not," he said with a gentle sigh.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, "Your world isn't that bad," you said softly.

He smirked a little, but there was still a sadness in his eyes. "Many of my lovers have met unfortunate ends," he let out, still caressing your cheek.

You knew he had a past. And no doubt a lot of blood was on his hands, but he had also saved lives and killed for the sake of life. There was good in him, and a sort of selflessness that was rare in any person.

"You deserve to be happy, Elijah," you said honestly. "You are allowed to love," you looked up at him, hoping that he would understand, that he would believe in himself just like you believed in him.

He didn't say anything for a while, he was used to pushing his feelings down. He seemed to be searching for words, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer.

You pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss, and he let out a content sigh, his body losing its tension. You pulled away and glanced at his bed then back to him, desperate for him to finally make a move. He smiled a gentle, almost apologetic smile and kissed you again, more passionate this time.

His kisses were soft yet fierce, driven by need, a hunger that he was fighting to contain. You melted against him, letting him lead the kiss, letting his tongue move over yours as he deepened it.

You moved together towards his bed, never breaking your kiss. You felt the back of your knees hit the mattress and you sat, looking up at Elijah, his eyes gentle, his smile soft as he knelt before you, removing your boots.

It was the sweetest gesture, so sexy and intimate. He kissed your calf as he unzipped one and tugged it off, before moving to your other leg and doing the same, never breaking eye contact. You opened your legs slightly, your skirt riding up your thighs and he moved between them.

He kissed you again, slow and sensuous, you unbuttoned his shirt as his fingers slipped beneath your top. Your eyes closed, feeling his fingertips on your back as he lifted your top over your head.

You finished unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off him and pulling him closer. Your breasts pressed against his bare chest, his arms wrapping around your body. You ran your fingers through his hair, stroking his scalp before kissing him.

He watched you with nothing but adoration, his hands massaging your back before placing them on your waist. You could tell that he wanted to take his time, he was enjoying the foreplay, teasing and savoring each moment. You desperately wanted him to speed up though, feeling his kisses move from your lips, down your neck, his tongue gently darting over your skin.

A moan escaped your lips and your eyes closed as he reached your chest. You panted a little, breathing heavily and you felt him grin against your skin. A sexy, playful smirk formed on his lips as he unhooked your bra.

Your hands found his chest and slowly ran them down his smooth, muscled torso, coming to his belt, swiftly undoing it, and throwing it to the side. He chuckled as you wriggled from his grasp, scooting back onto the bed. You leaned back, resting on your elbows, admiring the gorgeous man that had knelt before you.

Elijah took his time just watching you, his gaze roaming over your curves, taking everything in. You took the opportunity to take your skirt off, leaving you in just your panties. He crawled onto the bed and up your body, your legs wrapping around his waist as he reached you.

He gently kissed you, reaching his hand behind your head, cradling you as he explored your mouth. You softly moaned, grinding against him, growing more impatient and needy. He seemed content to kiss you for a while, moving his mouth from yours to tease your neck.

"Elijah," you panted, squirming beneath him, begging for more.

He smirked against your neck and stopped his torture, sliding your panties down your legs, his fingers, gently brushing your calves. His mouth moved to your thigh and he pressed his lips to your skin before hovering just above where you wanted to feel him the most.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against your pussy, his hot breath making you tremble. You bucked your hips against him, urging him on, not wanting to beg, trying to keep the upper hand. He seemed to enjoy seeing you squirm, it made him chuckle a little and finally, finally put his mouth where you needed.

He looked up and gave you a devious smirk. His dark eyes pierced yours and your mouth fell open, letting out a deep moan as he slowly flattened his tongue against you and licked along the length of your pussy, swirling around your clit.

You ran your hands through his hair, feeling his tongue begin its torment, slowly licking, sucking, kissing and tasting, taking his time. Your eyes fluttered shut, panting, tugging on his hair when he hooked your leg over his shoulder and began to fuck you with his tongue.

Your whole body was trembling, the pleasure increasing with each flick and thrust of his tongue. When his mouth closed over your clit and he began sucking gently, you knew that it wouldn't be long before he turned you into a shaking, trembling mess.

But he had other ideas.

You opened your eyes, squirming and desperate, as he completely pulled away. He kneeled up, smirking at your disappointed face.

"You look so beautiful like this," he said softly, stroking your thigh. Before leaning over you as he slowly slid his hand up your stomach and over your breasts, stopping to lightly pinch your nipples.

"Enough teasing, Elijah," you whispered breathlessly, bucking your hips, grinding your pussy against nothing.

His smirk grew even wider, the corner of his mouth twisting, taking one of your hands in his. "Soon, darling," he breathed against your ear. He leaned against you, his muscular chest was warm and firm with the light sprinkling of chest hairs tickling your skin.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly, one arm on the side of your head, the other lacing his fingers with yours, pinning your hand above you.

It was sweet and unexpected, and you couldn't resist, leaning up and kissing him softly. "I'm sure," you whispered against his lips.

You reached around to tug on his pants, signaling that you had had enough of his torment. He smirked and leaned back to grant you access, watching you with amusement as you unzipped him.

You slid your hands inside, freeing his already hard cock, biting your lip, feeling the weight of him in your hands. You gently stroked him, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed the feeling, then a small, dark grin graced his features.

He intertwined his hands with yours, settling himself between your legs. He hovered over you, looking deep into your eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say, you could see it in the way his eyes darted over your face, emotions going from lust to admiration to wonderment, hopefulness. But he didn't, he didn't need to, he had his own way with words.

He cradled the back of your head, your faces almost touching as he finally eased into you, watching, waiting for you to tell him that he could keep going. You wrapped your legs around his waist and nodded, causing his entire body to relax as he began to move.

There was nothing rushed, or fast, or driven by animalistic desire. His movements were gentle, slow, considered and loving. He caressed you as he rested his weight on his forearms either side of your head, rocking gently.

"You feel so good," he groaned, capturing your lips in his, with a slow, deep, sensual kiss.

You couldn't help but moan into his mouth, each thrust drawing gasps and groans from you both. His arm wandered down to the small of your back, resting the weight of your lower body against him, so the rest of you was pressed into the mattress.

This new angle made everything more intense, hitting the most sensitive part inside of you, each movement of his hips bringing you closer to the edge.

Your fingers ran through his hair, the feeling of him thrusting over and over, in a gentle, rolling motion was overwhelming every sense. You crushed your mouth against his, needy and desperate, hoping that it would convey your feelings you couldn't express with words.

You couldn't hold on any longer, your cheeks flushed as you buried your face in his shoulder, letting out a soft guttural moan. Every nerve ending flooded with pleasure, your vision began to blur, you were completely overcome by your orgasm.

Elijah softly chuckled, looking pleased with himself, feeling you tense around him. You whimpered slightly, your hands clasping his biceps as you came down from the high. He nipped at your ear, his lips ghosting along your neck, sending a thrill through your body.

"You make such pretty sounds," he murmured, his words turning you on again as he started to thrust a little harder, to the pace he needed.

You avoided his gaze, slightly embarrassed, and he tilted your chin up, bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You squealed a little, surprised at his sudden passion and force, his thrusts pushing you into bed. You moaned into his mouth, his movements becoming more erratic, harder. You held onto his shoulders for support, wrapping your legs around his hips, feeling him pound into you.

He gripped your thighs, pushing your knees up around your waist, the new position allowed him to penetrate deep, and your whimpers grew louder and higher. He gave you a dark smile, clearly enjoying the fact that he could turn you into a moaning mess.

You buried your face in his shoulder again as he kept pounding you, making you tingly and light-headed. You wanted it to last forever, the way he was fucking you as if his life depended on it. His need for you and the relentless friction as his cock moved in and out of you brought you to the edge once more.

He smirked, his eyes piercing yours, leaning back, his thumb slid between you, gently playing with your clit. You cried out, your nails digging into his arms as your release overwhelmed you.

Your mouth fell open and your body contracted, the moment was so intense, a whole-body experience, Elijah didn't let up, fucking you right through it. Your moans grew louder, he was relentless, his thrusts getting harder and faster. His hands grasped the back of your thighs, gripping and spreading them wide as he buried himself deep inside of you.

His own smirk became strained as he stared down at you in delight. You knew, when he pressed his body against yours, your lips with his, he was about to find his own release.

Elijah let out the sexiest, deepest groan into your mouth, barely moving as he filled you with his cum. You stroked his hair and as he lay on top of you, his eyes closed, enjoying the bliss.

His kiss turned tender, loving and passionate and he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing gently. You smiled, kissing him softly and he rolled over, pulling you to his side, running his hands through your hair.

You intertwined your legs and rested your head on his chest, glancing up at him every now and then. He was enjoying the moment, both of you basking in the glorious glow of your love-making.

"Why were you so nervous?" he asked softly, twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers, a sweet and almost boyish grin spreading over his lips.

You blushed, thinking back to a mere hour ago, when your nerves were absolutely wrecked. "I thought you wouldn't feel the same. I was terrified that I'd scare you away," you explained, burying your face in his chest, embarrassed that you had felt scared.

Elijah gently took your chin, guiding you to look at him. He ran his fingers down your cheek, smiling fondly. "How could I not feel the same? Since the moment I first laid eyes on you, you've set my heart alight."

You felt the butterflies return, how could you have doubted him? Him of all people. He was the most romantic and sincere person you had ever met, he simply refused to express his feelings unless they were true.

"So... That's a yes?"

"To?" Elijah asked, an amused grin growing on his face as he waited for your response.

"You want to go out sometime?" you asked, only a little shy this time.

He laughed a deep, genuine laugh, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"I would like nothing more."

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{Part One -Klaus} ♡ {Part Two - Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel}

♡♡ Thanks for reading my a date with... series! please check out the other ones if you haven't already ♡♡

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oval3000 · 6 months

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Chapter 9

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

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König went crazy with the news. He would come home with baby stuff, onsies, burp cloths, books on parenting, baby bottles, diapers, crib, stroller, baby car seat.

He would assemble the crib and make a nursery in the next room. The only thing you did is to make sure your healthy and worry about the baby growing inside of you.

When you told König about the news, he showed how happy he was by giving you a night of love and intimacy. Not in the animal way he was giving you. It was more softer and gentle that you fell head over heels for him. Him being soft to you and the baby gave you a new perspective of him. You were not scared of him.

He wasn't lashing out on you as before. You have been scared to ask him if it was okay for you to step outside for the first time since you've been here. Everything has been going so good, you didn't want to ruin it.

König has hired a private medic that specializes in peds to help you with the pregnancy and to be there for when you give birth.

As months pass by, you grew and the more you grew the more König crave you. He would have sex with you, gentle so he won't harm the baby. When it was time for your due date, you were quite nervous about giving birth.

You used your knowledge and check yourself everyday to prepare for when you would go into labor.

Eventually, that day came by. König was outside, doing whatever he does. You were in the kitchen, preparing yourself a little snack when you felt pain. That pain was followed by a feel of gush going down your legs. You saw the puddle on the floor and went into a bit of panic.

You took a few deep breaths and hoped that König would enter the house soon. But he didn't. It left you with no choice, but to run to König outside. You opened the front door. You hoped that König wouldn't yell at you.

König rolled out from under his truck and saw you there. He got up and ran towards you. "König! The baby is coming."

His eyes widen as he quickly dialed the medic, who came in quick.

You were laying on your back with your legs spread open. König was sitting next to you, holding your hand. When the medic told you to push with everything you got, you did.

It felt like hell. The pain so too much, but you heard the baby cry, it all went away. They weren't kidding when they say the pain will go away as soon as you held your baby. The medic placed your newborn baby on your chest and you saw all the little features.

"Congratulations, a beautiful baby boy." The medic said.

He had your hair and skin color and when he opened his eyes, you saw the pure, clear, blue eyes. He has König's eyes.

König will hold him. Your baby is so tiny when he's being held by König's arms that it makes it more adorable.

He would wake up in the middle of the night and feed him. He would change his diaper when you would take your day naps. He would rock him to sleep, so you can take a moment for a shower.

As for you, he would help you whenever when it comes to your needs. He would help you wash your hair when your arms are too tired from holding the baby. He would give you feet massages when your carrying the baby all day.

When you feel your breast filled up and sore, he would suck them dry for you.

He was honestly living the best life and he would not let anybody get in between them.

So when he saw Horangi carrying your baby as you plead for him to give him back. He felt anger.

"Horangi! What are you doing!?" He screamed at him, pulling you back to behind him.

"What, König? You think it's fair for you to live this life. You fucking put us here!" He said, pointing his bowie knife at you and him.

"And what? Killing MY child is going to solve this!?" He took a step closer to him.

"Oh. I'm not going to kill him. I think that maybe I should live this life too. You're just going to be in the way König." He swayed his knife back and forth with a smile on his face.

König laughed, "you're going to kill me? Is that your plan."

"Mm. No." The three of you heard police sirens coming in close, "you see, I served my time in that fucking hospital. You escaped. I did nothing wrong here, you did."

Königs fist clenched so hard, you could see all of his veins and muscles on his wrist. "du verdammter Verräter! (You fucking traitor!)"

"Now, König. You don't want to kill me while I'm holding your son.." he tilted his head, "sorry, my son. He'll need a father growing up wouldn't he."

"You? A father? The only thing you're gonna do is pass down your gambling addiction." König felt your hand on his arm, he looked back at you over his shoulder.

"Please don't make this worse König." König felt everything crumbling down.

The moment he saw you at that hospital. The moment he saw how you defended him. He never felt so weak and hatred as he does now.

He heard bannging on the door. He opened as saw many police officers. He put his hands on the air as they cuffed him and placed him on the back of the police car.

König went through trial for escaping and murdering the people at the hospital.

Now, instead of the Psychiatric hospital, he's behind bars. People have heard rumors. How he killed all the workers and left one alive. How he tortured that victim to death.

He would receive letters from Horangi. Letters of him being taunted on how he's taking care of you. Of his son.

He would even visit König and tell him how good you are to him. König doesn't need to know the full truth either way.

He even gave him the news that you are expecting another child. His child.

Horangi's child.

König counted the days. He didn't lash out. He didn't do anything bad. He was too clouded with anger that he didn't do anything behind bars.

Which led to, "good news, König. You'll be out sooner than we thought. That good behavior is doing you good."

He was counting the days. The day where he will be excorted out from prison. The day where he will see the gate open. The day where he will see the sky again.

The day where he will stop at nothing to find you.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #konig #könig #könig cod #könig x reader #yandere konig #yandere könig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x reader #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x y/n #könig x you

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idesofrevolution · 16 days

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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

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Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

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The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

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It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

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"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

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#original #hypnosis #mind control #himbo #bisexual #transformation #male hypnosis #male transformation #stoner #cannabis #musk #footplay #switch #male reprogramming

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corruptedcaps · 2 months

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Wedding Hells

Abby was happy she finally managed to convince her best friend Lindsay to not marry her fiancé James. Abby had learned that James was secretly the head of the crime family in town and was involved in every dirty deal going.

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As happy as Abby was, James was pissed. When Abby came over to pick up some of Lindsay’s belongings he made she sure she knew.

“Well if it isn’t the do gooder little friend who tricked my fiancé into leaving me. I hope you’re proud.” He said with venom.

“Tricked her? I told her the truth of who you really are you creep and soon I’m going to tell everyone as well. Your days not behind bars are numbered.” Abby said straight to his face expecting to see him bubble up with rage but instead he broke into a smile.

“You have a fire and strength in you I had noticed before. You’ll do just am fine as my wife instead.” He said walking over to Lindsay’s never worn dress.

“You’ve lost it now, good luck with your life, or should I say you’re 25 to life.” She said turning on her heel. However within a feel feet she felt the white fabric of the wedding dress draped over her head. Within seconds it seemed to come alive and squeeze down her body.

“What... the... hell...” Abby said trying to rip it off her but found it was too tight.

“You see Lindsay never knew about who I really was but she was going to be my second in command in my growing criminal empire. I had big expansion plans but needed someone I knew would be loyal and ruthless. That’s where this magic dress came in.” James said matter of factly as Abby continued to struggle.

The dress had started to push off her clothes and toss them aside as it enveloped her body and sealed her in. She was quickly dressed as a bride to be but that’s when the real changes began.

The dress constricted her stomach making it hard to breath for a second. However Abby soon felt her belly shrink to match the tight waist of the dress. It actually felt good.

“Oh what are you doing to me you bastard! It feels... it feels... so goooood.” She moaned as her chest heaved outward as two massive tits grew outward from her modest pair.

“You don’t think I became kingpin without the help of the dark arts do you? Soon you’ll understand. When you become the Queenpin.” James said laughing.

Abby should of been furious with him but for some reason she was more turned on then ever before. The word Queenpin making her wet everything she thought it.

“Oh fuck I hate you James you big dick fuck! Once I’m free of this I’m going to fuck your brains out! Wait noooo! I don’t want that! I neeeeed that. No this is wrong!” She said moaning again as her conflicted emotions fought each other.

“You’re right, this is wrong but doesn’t it feel so good to be bad? No more morals, no more caring what anyone thinks? Just taking what you deserve, which is everything! Embrace it Abby, embrace being a bitch!” He said, tempting her.

Abby’s body continued to change as her mind was at war with itself. Her skin took on a healthy tan, sexy makeup was applied generously to her face. Her hair became thick, long and luxurious.

If there hadn’t been a mirror nearby that day, she might have saved her soul. As her eyes made contact with her reflection she found herself drawn into the cold, permanent bitch faced, goddess that was staring back. James was right, she thought, why should she not have everything she ever wanted? A beauty like her deserved the world and if wasn’t going to be given it she would need to take it.

As the good parts of her psyche were replaced by her new meaner, more cutthroat persona her struggling ceased. Her posture straighten into a classical pose and all resistance faded. Her lips curled into a wicked smile as she eyed James not with disgust any longer but with desire.

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“Abby? That’s such a childish name. It’s Abigail from now on. Do I look like some immature child?” She said arching herself against a wall so she could shove out her butt. James mouth was agape.

“Sweetheart you’ll catch flies looking like that, how about you come over here and use it on more expensive tastes?” She said with a purr dripping in lust. James didn’t waste any time as he quickly grabbed her and kissed her deeply. Abigail moaned softly as he did, loving how he tasted. Lindsay had always said he was a good lover and now she was about to find out.

Removing the dress, Abigail found herself in some sexy white lingerie, a by product of the magic dress. She pushed James onto the nearby bed and posed sexily for him.

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“When we fuck darling, I don’t want to hear Abby, or Abigail come from that mouth of yours. I want to hear only Queenpin, understand?” Abigail said authoritatively, making James get harder.

“Of course… Queenpin.” Her growled making her as wet as he was hard. Strutting over to him she took out his impressive cock and lowered her tight pussy on top.

“Mmmm a perfect fit… Kingpin.” She purred as she started to rise up and down.

The next few hours were a blur of sexual juices, screaming and grunting. By the time they were done Abigail had forgotten ever being Abby. In her mind she had always been Abigail, a tough and brutal but also outrageously beautiful crime boss.

James had planned on telling his men to fall in line and treat her like a boss too but she slipped into the role so easily that they were too scared to disobey her. Within a week she had doubled James’ profits with her ruthless ways. While James was a perfectly cruel and calculating leader, Abigail was literally created to be bad. She was the model of evil.

However not everyone was as impressed as James, namely his ex-fiancée and Abby’s old best friend, Lindsay. She confronted Abigail one day on the street and pleaded with her to tell her what had been done to her but Abigail just looked at her coldly.

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“Do I know you? Regardless no one speaks to me like that, I am Queenpin of this city and I could have you disappeared like that.” She said snapping her fingers. When she did, her two burly bodyguards seized Lindsay and threw her into the trunk of Abigail’s luxury tow car.

Sliding in Abigail smirked as she heard the muffled banging of Lindsay.

“It’s no use dear, even if anyone heard you they’re all too afraid to say anything. You don’t have that fear but you will soon. Once I break you you’ll be employed indefinitely as my new live in maid and sex slave. You’re exactly what I need to help me prepare for my upcoming wedding.” Abigail said callously as she put on her designer sunglasses and her driver headed towards her mansion.

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #corrupted clothing #evil couple

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soullumii · 9 months

Text

if my heart’s gonna break | joel miller x f!reader

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part 1 (read part 1 before reading this!)

summary: a couple nights later, you head back to joel’s

warnings: 18+!!!! smut again. unprotected piv. fem!afab!reader. angst again don’t worry i’ll make a happy ending okay

word count: 4k

joel mod in gif is by speclizer (so fucking hot oh my GODDDD)

a/n: finally finished part 2 omg i’m sorry for the wait yall… i’m a perfectionist it’s lowkey debilitating. anyways… i hope u guys enjoy <3 tysm for the support on part 1 and tbh on all my other fics too… i can’t believe ppl like my writing that much. i am very grateful! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

im scared but if my heart's gonna break before the night will end

i said we're in danger

sleeping with a friend

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You cant stop thinking about the kiss.

The kiss that honestly shouldn’t mean so much to you. You’ve kissed him, like, so many times. So many times his tongue has been in your mouth, been in your damn vagina. So why the fuck… why the fuck are you so worked up over this right now?

It’s just…it was so heavy. It felt like…like more than just a kiss. Like he was laying his life down for you, much like he does in patrols.

He… Joel… he usually never kisses right after sex. He recognizes in the post-coitus energy that things are different. They mean more. He has to know that. So… why now? Does he…?

No. You’re just in your head again. Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard. You’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before now. Maybe this… maybe this is regular.

But for your own psyche, you think you might have to set some ground rules.

There was always that main rule, that wretched, critical rule. The one you said to him on the first day of your strange exchange.

“Don’t go falling in love with me, cowboy.”

Well, to hell with that one, right? Pretty sure you’ve beaten that shit to death. Shattered all possible remains of it.

So more rules. More rules will have to do. Starting with:

No kissing.

Should be easy enough.

You’ll figure out the rest later. You have got to stop thinking about it, though, because you’re on the way to his house right now.

You knock swiftly on the door, and you swear you feel your heart drop into your pussy the moment he opens the door to reveal himself. A plain, black t-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, haphazardly tucked into a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. His graying hair is ruffled beyond belief, curling around his ears and falling over his forehead. In your fits of passion and desire a couple nights ago, you hardly realized it had grown longer. It looks nice.

This sleepy and soft Joel is not one you’ve seen in a while. Well, it’s not like you’ve seen him much lately anyway, with him having been gone and all. Still, it’s disorienting.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Um. Hi.” You try not to gawk. “Did…did I come at a bad time, or something?”

“No, not at all. I just got back from patrols… took a shower,” he says, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, strong arms crossing over his chest. There’s a tiny, barely perceptible smirk on his lips. “Need somethin’?”

You see it now, the water clinging to his hair, darkening it, beading at his temples like sweat. You follow a line of water trickling down his throat until it disappears behind his collar.

Rule 2: Don’t come over after he’s showered.

“I…uh, I can come back later if you want—“

You’re nervous to ask him what you want to ask him, which is honestly ridiculous considering you guys have been doing this for months now. You used to be able to just knock on his door and he’d pull you in, and it was that easy. Or you’d give him a look when in public, and he knew exactly what you needed.

Now, you’re painfully awkward. Curse him and curse your feelings.

He straightens a bit, his brows furrowing in slight concern. “What’s goin’ on?”

Heat spreads down your neck, embarrassment. Shame. It’s strange, how just a couple nights ago you let him finger you in public, and now you’re afraid to ask him for sex again in his house and for your panties back.

You should honestly just say something like:

I’m here for my underwear.

And you’re positive he’d say:

Want it back? You gotta earn it, sweetheart.

And your knees would buckle and you’d sink down to the carpeted floor in front of his couch and suck him off until he was coming down your throat, stroking back your hair and thumbing his cum on your plush bottom lip.

But instead you’re scowling at him and blurting: “I need a drink.”

How dare he leave you high and dry for three weeks, come back and fuck the shit out of you, make you realize you’re in love with him, and look this good?

God damnit, you need to get your shit together.

Joel’s eyes widen, surprised only slightly by your outburst, before he backs up to allow you inside his home. When he shuts the door behind you, his hand settles warmly on your lower back as he steers you toward the kitchen.

He immediately beelines for the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of red for you. A warm, tingly feeling stirs in your stomach at the fact that he knew you’d want wine. The frustration you’ve been feeling fizzles out.

“You know me so well.”

He gives you a light smirk, uncorking the bottle. The liquor gurgles as he pours it into a glass. “Think you’d kill me if I didn’t know after all this time.”

You laugh, “Sure, but the real test of friendship is if you knew how I’d kill you.”

“A swift kick to the nuts and then one of my guitars to my head.”

Your eyes widen on a guffaw. “You think I’d damage one of your guitars?”

“You care more about my guitars than my genitals?”

“Yes. Why would I ever smash one of your guitars?”

He rolls his eyes. “Kill two birds with one stone—my soul and my body. It’s effective. If you needed to kill me, I’d hope it was like that. Now how would I kill you?”

You hum in consideration. “Trick question. You wouldn’t—no, you couldn’t.”

“You know me so well.”

His words mirrored back at you so gently, with his brown eyes trained on you intently has the warmth in your belly spreading, making you drop your gaze.

His smirk grows and he hands you the wine glass and reaches for some homemade brandy. You watch the muscles in his arm flex as he pours, sipping daintily while your mind replays thoughts of filth. Of you dragging that arm between your legs, grinding down on it until—

“So, you really only here for a drink?” He asks with a playful lilt, taking a sip of his own beverage and effectively jolting you out of your daydreaming.

You lean against the island, wondering if you should tell him the truth. From the way he’s looking at you, hungrily and heated, like a lion ready to pounce, you’re tempted to.

But…you’re afraid. You can’t stop thinking about The Rule. The one you broke and the ones you just made. You wonder if whatever might happen between you two tonight will unravel them before you can even put them into place.

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pursed around the rim of the glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”

His eyes darken, tongue darting out to lick his lips of sweet fermented wine. His gaze travels up and down your figure, comfortable and breathable in a t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy and cute like your sundress from the other night, because today you had to work. But Joel has never minded what you’ve worn, swearing you always look sexy in anything.

Which is something that also makes you question this friends with benefits situation you have here.

He sets his glass down and eases in closer, curling an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “How high’s the chance then?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the probability that you really did only come here for a drink?” he drawls, eyes following your lips as your tongue dips out to wet them. “Or was there another reason?”

The cold tip of his nose brushes along your throat, lips ghosting over your skin. You tremble in his hold. “Odds are in favor of the first option,” you breathe, “ran out of alcohol at my place.”

“And you couldn’t just stop by the Bison? Had to steal from my stores?”

“You know you have the good stuff.”

“You’re lyin’ but I’ll pretend like you ain’t.”

That makes you laugh, and more tumble out of you when one of his hands traces lazily over your stomach, fingers light and delicate and teasing.

“So why d’ya need a drink?”

Because you’re driving me crazy. Because I’m driving myself crazy. Because the universe wants to fuck me over.

You smile and your free hand skates up his muscled back, your fingers brushing along the stretchy fabric of his tee, your voice soft. “Just needed to destress a little. Work has been intense.”

He grins back, presses it into the spanse between your throat and your shoulder, before he lightly scrapes his teeth over it and lays a gentle bite that has you keening into him, pressing your body against his.

“Well, I could help you destress another way too,” he murmurs, palm squeezing the pudgy flesh of your waist, fingers digging lightly into your muscle.

“Mm… yeah?” you hum, your voice a low purr, back arching. Your breasts press into his chest, and Joel makes a sound deep in his throat in agreement.

He presses you into the island, caging you in with his hands on either side of you. He towers over you, a sweatpant clad leg sliding between yours.

He leans down to kiss you, and a flashing light blares in your mind — NO KISSING — loud and bright and distracting. You turn your head at the last second, his lips landing on your cheek. But Joel doesn’t pull back, doesn’t question you. He just kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, mouthing at you. Sucking your skin to leave little marks that will either fade or be covered by concealer.

It used to upset you when he left marks because they’re a pain to cover up. Then, you started to like it. You didn’t mind covering up the marks because when you took the makeup off and saw them at the end of the day, all you could think about was him. About the how he made you come. About the words he muttered in your ear. About the feeling of his hands on you—in you.

Now, you’re starting to grow upset again, but this time it’s because you want to wear them proudly. Want people to know he gets to claim you like this. But… you can’t. But you also don’t want him to stop.

You allow him to continue marking you up, his hand coming up to rest behind your skull, holding you in place. You press your body into his eagerly and with desperate, soft noises that he returns with placating moans.

And then he shifts, and his thigh ruts against your clothed core, and you moan lightly, airily, grinding your hips down against him, searching for any friction.

His hands curl around the hem of your white tee, and he peels it off your body. One skates behind your back to easily undo the clasp of your bra, and then your breasts are heavy and on display for him.

Joel stares down at you with heavy eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

Longing claws at your chest, and you look up at him coyly, your lip caught between your teeth. Joel groans like he’s in pain, and squeezes along the underside of one of your breasts before leaning down to close his mouth over the nipple while his other hand gives attention to the other, squeezing and pinching. Your hands find purchase in his damp hair as low moans tumble from your lips.

When he’s deemed one nipple adequately appreciated, he moves onto the next. Licking, revering, his dark eyes peering up at you while his peppered hair is fisted in your hands. The sight has slick arousal pooling in your underwear.

Eventually he pulls back and his hands clamp down on your hips. He guides you along the muscle of his thigh, your clit pulsing at the contact.

“Want you to come on my thigh, baby.” His voice is a ragged slur of words against your ear, warm and paired with a kiss to your cartilage.

“Fuck…yes, Joel,” you whimper, sparks flying through your nerves with each roll of your hips.

His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him as you rut against his thigh. He’s grinning, eyes heavy lidded and deep, dark like wet tar. They suck you in as if they were quicksand.

You’d let him drag you under a million times over.

Your best friend.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling yourself grow close. Standing at the cliff's edge. His eyes bore into yours, his grin slipping as he focuses on you. Focuses on making you shatter atop him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it. You can come,” he says encouragingly, fingers stroking the skin of your hip. You feel tears prick your eyes as the waves crash, spreading from your throbbing clit along your muscles. Filling you with warmth, stronger and deeper than the buzz from the wine.

“Good job,” he praises gently. “Did so good.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

He laughs, and despite yourself, heat floods your body, throbs between your thighs. His words caress a deep, carnal animal inside of you, and the hunger takes over.

You frantically pull at his shirt until he has to tell you to slow down, and takes it off himself. Your hands run along his chest and stomach the moment they’re able to and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm his hardening cock through the soft, gray fabric. Joel groans deep and heavy, his lashes fluttering as he stares you down. His hips thrust into your palm automatically. Involuntarily.

God, that makes you light up like a firefly. Makes your nerves sing and your cunt flutter and your mind go numb.

He tugs down your shorts and underwear and sets you on top of the granite, but before he can strip the underwear from your ankle to no doubt pocket this pair like he did the other, you flick it off your foot across the kitchen. It lands somewhere near the door to the dining room.

He can’t steal all your underwear, or you’ll have none left.

“I wanted those,” he drawls, expression on the edge of a pout.

“Yeah, well I need them. It’s not common to come across a good pair of panties in this world.”

“But I’d give ‘em back.” He’s full on pouting now. It is, unfortunately, very cute, but you’re used to it.

“Sure… like the pair you took from me the other night that I have yet to receive.”

“How else am I supposed to get you to come over?”

“I dunno? Maybe ask?”

“Should I leave a note on your door? Is that good enough for you?”

“At least be classy. A letter delivered in my mailbox with a wax stamp, please.”

He laughs. “As you wish, Princess.”

He finally peels off his sweatpants, free of underwear beneath them, and you watch with barely concealed hunger as his cock springs free.

And while you like the idea of him fucking you on the counter, you’d much rather him fuck you against the counter, so you hop down and turn so your back faces him. Your hands curl around the granite lip of the counter top, and you push your ass out and back, peering at him over your shoulder.

This way, it’s easier for him not to kiss you. Easier for you to turn your head and deny your lips to him.

“Look at you…” Joel hums appreciatively at your show, at the wiggle of your hips as his palm smooths down your back and over your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh.

You moan quietly, and Joel’s eyes darken, watching you intently like you’re the only thing in the room.

His fingers drift down to your cunt and your slickness coats his fingers fully. You’re so wet for him. So ready for him to bury himself inside you and call you his.

It’s funny, you’ve lost all your heat from a few nights ago. All your sharp edged words. Now, you’re soft and pliant.

He swirls his soaked index and middle fingers along your clit, punctuating your sensitivity, before sliding them back inside you to the knuckle. You keen and push back, desperate for more. His fingers are so much longer than yours, thicker, and yet you crave more.

“That’s it, Joel,” you huff. “Fuck, feels so good. Need more.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

Shame lights your cheeks, but you push down the embarrassment. “Need…need your cock inside me.”

He lays a kiss on your neck. “Still a bit desperate aren’t we?”

“You’re the desperate one, Mr. Panty Stealer. You’re a fucking creep.”

He chuckles against your neck, but he squeezes your ass in retaliation. “Be nice, would you?”

“You like it when I’m mean.”

“Wanna see how much I like it?”

“If you’re willing to show me and get on with this, sure.”

He huffs in amused frustration. “God, you’re annoyin’.”

You just smile innocently at him.

Your legs tremble, slick running down your thighs when Joel pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with the hardness of his cock, of which he runs along your wetness, readying himself.

“I think ‘bout you way too much,” he says into your back, pressing a gentle kiss there. “D’ya think ‘bout me too?”

It’s an odd question. One you’re not expecting. One that has your heart stuttering in quiet confusion from this sudden switch in tone.

“Of course I do.” Obviously. You told him as much. Three weeks. Three weeks you thought about him.

“Good… wanna be the only thing on your mind.”

A high pitched keen hisses through your teeth as Joel eases himself inside you with a long, slow stroke and a low moan. Your fingers white knuckle the countertop, gripping it tightly.

He presses in close, burying himself all the way in before he withdraws slowly, his cock sliding inside you torturously.

“Joel,” you moan.

“I know, baby.” He presses kisses to your shoulders.

Joel’s hand gravitates to the back of your knee, and he slowly pushes up to lift your leg until your knee is resting on the counter.

And then… with this new angle…he starts fucking you in earnest.

His hips snap against your ass, the sound deafening in the kitchen, and you crumple against the granite with a moan.

“Shit,” Joel grunts. “Yeah.”

Each of his heavy thrusts punches the air from your lungs, and your fingers slip on the countertop, scrabbling for purchase every chance you can get. He’s hot, thick inside you, warm as he folds over you, his hand on your tummy holding you upright, the other keeping your leg up to continue hitting you at that pleasant, delicious angle.

“H-holy shit—oh—“

He breathes heavily at your neck, low grunts and moans escaping his lips from his efforts. “Could spend eternity inside you, darlin’. Fuck, you’re mine.”

Your heart stutters, the words uttered in a lust filled craze, likely meaning nothing. But to your traitorous brain, to the hope lingering in your chest like a persistent cough, they mean everything.

“All…” you’re losing your train of thought, fucked into blissful nothingness. “All yours, Joel.”

It’s too difficult for him to kiss you from this angle, which you’re relieved about. But a part of you longs for it, longs for the feel of his mouth moving against yours.

Joel’s strong arm wraps around your chest, and pulls you up so you’re flush against his back as he pounds up and into you. Keens and whimpers and breathless pants escape you with every thrust.

“Please, Joel,” you cry, tears pricking at the edges of your swirling vision.

“What, baby?” He huffs. “Need’a come?”

You nod crazily. “Yes—need to—“

“Shhh okay… I’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the hand wrapped around your tummy inching down to circle at your clit steadily.

Your legs buckle beneath you but Joel keeps you upright as the pleasure soars through you, sudden and strong. He strokes you through it, groaning praises into your ear before he comes inside you a moment later.

The two of you hiss in tandem when he pulls out, but he smothers it when he lays his mouth over yours. You’re hardly coherent enough to remember your rule, and for a moment you let him kiss you. You kiss him back, chasing the heat of his mouth with your own, moaning against his lips when his tongue dips into your mouth.

Then, you remember.

You pull back panting, cheeks a flame, “Joel.”

“Hm?” He murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw before moving back up to pull you into another kiss. You move away before he can. His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… I don’t think we should kiss anymore.”

He blinks. “What? Why?”

Your eyes flit across the kitchen, catching on labeled jars and wooden spoons and spices, anything but his own. “It’s too intimate.”

It’s a lame excuse. Joel sees through it immediately.

“And my cock inside you ain’t?”

You sigh heavily, avoiding eye contact. “It’s different.”

“How? Enlighten me.” His tone has gone rougher. Hurt swirls in his eyes, and you feel worse than you did the other night.

Because you and I are friends. Because I don’t think I can pretend like that’s the truth when all I want is to call you mine. Because when I kiss you it’s like my world finally starts to make sense.

“Please, Joel. Just…I don’t want to do it anymore. Can you respect that, please?”

He runs a hand down his beard, his hurt expression hardening into a stoic one you haven’t been on the receiving end of in years. Fuck. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t kiss you anymore.”

You expect relief but all that comes is a deep longing and sadness that you try to push to the depths of your conscience. Though, like a buoy, it keeps popping above the surface.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

The cleanup is awkward. He watches you silently as you pick up your underwear and slide them and your shorts back on. He seems far away, here and gone all at once. It makes you worry, makes you wonder if what you just said was the biggest mistake of your life.

But you have to do this. You have to hold him at arm's length because if you admit to him…if you tell him how you really feel… maybe he really will leave you. He’ll realize you’ve gone and fucked everything up, and the friendship you’ve kindled, the trust you’ve built, will all be for nothing.

You can’t lose him, even if it means you can’t keep him close.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say eventually, when he’s walking you out the front door.

He smiles at you, faint and untrue. It’s like the one from the other night. Like that laugh he forced out for you. You feel like a Joel from the past has teleported to the present, with his thin smile and his hard eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“You okay?”

Joel frowns, shifts on his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… I don’t know. Never mind.”

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “You need me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum. A moth circles the porch light. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. He looks as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” is all that he says.

“Okay,” you repeat, feeling empty. A waif, a lonely white flag waving in the wind. “Um, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Night, darlin’,” he says, squeezing your arm, like he’s trying to be normal. It doesn’t work. His hand is cold. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Joel.”

It’s raining by the time you reach your house, and you curl under your blankets after a shower, your hair cold and wet against your scalp, listening to the droplets splattering against your window.

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

part 3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #tlou #game joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #this is trouble

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cerastes · 2 months

Note

Do you think at some point early on in Arknights the intent was to be a buildup to a more critical look at Rhodes as more morally grey than it first appears? Because when I started the game I was so sure that's where it was going. Popukar probably being one of the first characters you get, the idea of SWEEP, the understanding I had at the time of darknights doctor and y'know, the villains being who they are. I just thought it would be more of a thing.

I don't think necessarily, I think the intent was always to posit Rhodes Island as "as good as you can get while still being a relatively major power but not quite as big or resourceful as a state". I do think it bears mentioning that child soldiers/children and teenagers with a job as a concept don't seem to really carry a stigma as they do in the real world: The only real times in which these are painted in negative lights are when the conditions or results of these decisions end up in something negative:

Popukar was clearly indentured labor at the lumberyard. The part that's condemned is that she was miserable and practically a slave, not really that she was working per se, and she's given a job by RI later after Kal'tsit personally gets her out of there.

Frostleaf's being a child soldier even before Rhodes Island isn't really all that condemned, the effects it had on her psyche is.

Absinthe, just orphaned, is made a Rhodes Island Operator. This notion isn't rejected or truly contested, no more than "maybe we can send her somewhere proper for care". Hell, all the Ursus kids also get made into Operators.

Even outside of this, we hire children frequently: Bubble, Suzuran, Shamare, you name it. Sure, each has a context, especially Shamare who is Fucking Haunted, but the matter of the fact is that Rhodes Island isn't just housing them, it's also showing no real qualms with them taking the Operator Testing Battery and, if they succeed, hiring them. It's mentioned several times that Rhodes Island has many non-combat roles -- Angelina used to be a Messenger for Rhodes Island before taking the Operator test, Orchid was offered a desk job at Rhodes Island initially, and Weedy was a Rhodes Island researcher who explicitly worked out and trained so she could pass the physical components of the test -- but there's no real turn of eyes when a child says mmmm yeah I'll do the Battlefield Supporter Battery please, thank you.

Amiya is, you know, the CEO of Rhodes Island, and that IS pointed out in a "damn, fucked up" way, but what's being lamented is not her having a job, it's her having a BIG difficult job. I think no one would bat an eye if Amiya was a regular Operator under Theresa instead (granted, because she's the owner's daughter, but even without that link).

These are some examples of in-universe logic regarding the whole child soldier and kid with a job. I'd wager it's because life expectancy in Terra is pretty damn low from what we've gathered: Armed conflict, crime, Catastrophes, Oripathy, there's plenty of ways to kick the bucket in Terra, much like it was in Ye Olde Ages in real life, which is coincidentally an era in which by 16 you already were an adult and were expected to start having adult responsibilities.

Pre-Amnesia Doctor was definitely not a stellar person but it's always understood that they weren't bad as much as broken: Scout put it best that it broke his heart to have seen this kind educator and fun, loving individual become a heartless tactician. Even when described this way, though, it wasn't like Doc became this Brooding Evil Mass, it's still mentioned plenty that they were pretty beloved by most people and a person they liked being friends with -- Ace, Scout, and Amiya all corroborate this, and in flashbacks, you have Theresa being pretty warm with Doc -- but if you were a footsoldier, Doctor was probably your worst nightmare because you were disposable -- W, Ines, Hoederer and Flamebringer can tell you as much -- so we had less a villain or a vile individual and more a broken individual who was remolded into someone that could withstand the immense psychological pressure that came with having their role. That's not to sanitize pre-amn Doctor, it's to echo the game's own words on them as per the characters in the setting that knew them from back then, and who held both positive and negative opinions on them.

Looking at all of these from an in-universe lens, they all have coherent in-universe explanations. I also think they would have foreshadowed any sort of Rhodes Island Insiduous Vileness with characters or actions by now: Less than stellar, antagonistic high command, dubious orders to do some vile stuff, other such things. The closest we get to this is Kal'tsit hating Doctor's guts, but also Kal'tsit is a really good person and her hatred of Doctor stems from her knowing them pre-amnesia, seeing how that happened, and what Doc did in those times, particularly one big event that's pretty lore relevant.

You may have noticed the elephant in the room [SPOILERS FOR PEOPLE NOT DONE WITH THE REUNION ARC YET]: I didn't address the enemy part yet. That's because that's the part that I still have some conflicted feelings over: The real enemy, in the end, isn't Reunion's ideals -- which are shared with Rhodes Island -- but rather it's what Reunion has become, a false flag operation for the Ursus Empire to justify a war. On one hand, I like that, on the other, I do think it's something that should've been more graciously hinted at in the very early chapters, because in those very early chapters, you REALLY are rent-a-cops in essence, putting down the people you set out to help. Of course, it's not that simple and there's a nuance as to why and the business dealings and all that, but given the relative simplicity and pace of the early chapters, it really is easy to see it come across that way.

It does, however, ring consistent with what we were previously talking about, though: The essence of, more than the act or thing in itself. Or, in other words, in Terra, the onus of things seem to be placed on the result or context surrounding something more than that something in itself: Child soldiers are fine, unhappy and in-risk child soldiers are not. Teenagers with jobs are fine, teenagers with huge stressful jobs way out of their league are not. Revolutionary movements are fine, revolutionary movements with civilian casualties are not. And so on. There is DEFINITELY commentary that can be had about this, mind you, but that can be for another post in another blog.

With this in mind, I go back to what was first said in this post, I think the idea was always to posit Rhodes Island as "as good as you can get while still being a relatively major power but not quite as big or resourceful as a state".

#arknights

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stickyvoidpaper · 3 months

Text

I feel like steph and Jason have inside jokes.

Steph: God, why the hell do you give more leniency to Damian than anyone else. He's an asshole.

Jason: ... You promise not to tell anyone.

Steph, leaning in: Tell me everything you know right now

Jason: Everytime he gets a little too annoying, a little too up his own ass, I just think - "I fucked your mom", it does wonders to the psyche.

Steph losing her mind : What The fuck

Jason: It also works for Dick, you know how broken up he was about Kori.

Steph: WHAT

later

Steph: damn my moms being really annoying about studying, saying I should get my head down and focus.

Jason : Hey, you should introduce me to her, I'm sure I could find a way to distract her.

Steph : STAY AWAY FROM MY MOM

#stephanie brown #jason todd #batfam #batman #damian wayne #Literally anyone brings up their mom/ex and Jasons looks at Steph and is like- guess if i have #Tim mentions how intense his mom could be and Jason says he would have loved to meet her - Steph starts laughing- Tims confused #Selina breaks up with Bruce - “I know what i must do but i dont know if i have the strength to do it”#dick grayson

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thecuriousquest · 6 months

Note

B2 & Hawks

-🧼

The Scent of Another Man

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @palesweetscherryblossom @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, non con briefly mentioned, isolation punishment mentioned, spanking threat, nudity, sexual punishment?, possessive tendencies, controlling tendencies, aggressive behavior, abusive behavior, threatening harm upon Reader, hair pulling, breast slapping, marking Reader, Stockholm Syndrome

Request: “We won’t stop until you’re so covered in my scent no one will dare touch you again.”

Master List

Yandere Alphabet Prompt

—————————————————————————

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Keigo Takami is known for many things. He’s the No. 2 pro hero of Japan, he’s a charming guy, he’s rich as hell, and he started his own agency at such a young age. Those are just a few off of the long, long list.

You know Keigo for something that nobody would ever even consider. He’s fucking territorial. This man somehow always knows when you’ve been around another guy. It’s like he can sniff it out. You could just brush your arm up against the opposite gender on a bus, and when you come home, Keigo will be all over your ass, interrogating you about why you smell like another guy.

Ever since you blossomed into a more willing partner, one who shows him incredibly genuine love and devotion, he has allowed you to go outside under certain conditions. One, you must always have your phone and location turned on. Two, if Keigo calls, you must always answer. Three, you’re only allowed out until five o’clock pm. Four, you are to tell Keigo where you’re going and who you’re going with. If he doesn’t approve of those two things, you aren’t going at all. Five, you are to contact Keigo and only Keigo if something bad happens.

On the train, your phone died, and you happened to have been seated between two males with pretty heavy body odor. That’s what leads you here as Keigo grabs you by your hair and berates you in the kitchen, threatening to press your cheek against the hot griddle of the stove.

“Am I not enough for you? After all I’ve done to protect you, to give you a lavish life?! You’re going to throw all of that back in my face?”

You know what will happen if you don’t answer him properly. Sniffling from the threatening heat against your face, you groan and cry out with a heaving chest, “Keigo, I’m sorry! You’re enough. You know you are! I love you, I can’t live without you. Please, Keigo!”

You can’t hold onto him with the angle you’re bent at over the stove. The only thing you can grab is the handle to the oven, so you clutch it desperately, knuckles turning white from the harsh grip.

“KEIGO!”

You feel like you’re about to vomit as he presses your face just a bit closer, but it’s all too close at the same time. You’re a short hair away from him marring your face.

“What do I have to do to make you get it through your pea sized brain that you’re mine? You’re my girl!”

“I am your girl! Keigo, I didn’t do anything. Please? Please, let me go?!”

Your tears fall onto the griddle, splashing and sizzling as it begins to evaporate. The steam hits your eye, and it only causes more to surface upon your lashes.

He pulls you up and turns off the knob, ending the torturous heat to the stove. Keigo grabs you by your jaw with an iron clasp so tight you’re sure he’ll leave finger print sized bruises. The dew drops lingering on your eyes rolls down over his hand, and he smirks at you, licking the salty droplets.

Your boyfriend’s lips are so close to yours. You can’t turn your head away from him, and with your back to the oven, you have nowhere to go. It must be a natural instinct to him to trap you like this, giving you zero options of a way out. By now, you can’t even tell if this was something he did on purpose or if it’s just so ingrained in his psyche that it’s intrinsic to him.

Snuffling like a kid with ugly sobs, you clutch his jacket.

“Please, Keigo, please, believe me! You have to believe I’d never do anything like that to you. I’d never go against you like that! I love you so much, Keigo, please?!”

You feel as though your knees might buckle with how little energy you have left.

His grin widens seeing you beg for him. It’s the music of a seraph choir to his ears with a harp in accompaniment. Fucking beautiful.

“What are we gonna do with you, songbird? Am I gonna have to bend you over my knee? Lock you up for a day or two?” He tilts his head as he teases you.

You don’t realize he’s mocking you though, so you cry even harder and plead, “No, please, Keigo. I’ll be good!” Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and there’s no way you could keep standing if it weren’t for the grip Keigo has on your jaw.

The pro hero tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, taking his time to answer you, letting the tension weigh in the air for his amusement and your torture.

“I know what I’ll do. I’m going to come inside of you and on you until we get rid of the smell of other men. We won’t stop until you’re so covered in my scent that no one will dare touch you.”

It’s not the worst option, but your lip still wobbles at the thought. Obediently, you nod your head. You don’t fight Keigo as he puts you over his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom, clutching his jacket for balance.

You have to remind yourself that he does this because he loves you, because it’s what’s best for you, so you sigh as he strips your body down to bare skin before doing the same to his own. His hero costume lays on the floor next to a pile of your own clothes, and he crawls on top of you, pinning your arms down. Keigo kisses, nips, and sucks on your neck, leaving all types of marks as he slots his hard length between the plush of your thighs and presses himself inside of you.

He manipulates your knees, pushing them up to your chest. It’s a comfortable position for him that you’ve come to find out.

You remember in the beginning how you used to fight him so much, how he used to have to hold you down or even force you on your stomach to make things easier. All of that changed when he delivered the very first severe punishment which you later found out lasted two months. You remember how he locked you up, gave you little food and water to survive off of, took away every single comfort he afforded you since you moved in, and paid very little attention to you.

Now, Keigo is the light of your life, and when you make him mad, you need to be punished. Being disciplined makes you feel better, and that’s all he’s doing. He’s in the process of forgiving you. His forgiveness is all you want.

So as he pushes deeper and deeper inside of you, you whisper and moan how sorry you are, how you’ll be better, do better. You try to reassure him with every desperate thrust inside of you that your body is his body, and he can do with it as he pleases.

You just want him to be happy with you.

Pearlescent rain drizzles from your glossy orbs, soaking your red cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping and praying that you’re pleasing Keigo. He doesn’t stop short of groping your tits, ass, and thighs. He marks you up with bruises, navy and indigo. He smacks your panting breasts, painting them the brightest red found within a sunset.

But you deserve it. If this is what it takes to regain his favor, you’ll put yourself through it all.

Keigo fulfills his promise of coating your insides, as well as your body, with come. He makes sure you’re dripping with the slick ropes of his seed. He sniffs you, just to test it out. His lips curl into a dark grin, golden eyes taking on a brownish hue as he tilts his head until you see nothing but shadows surrounding his eyes.

“Good, can’t smell any other fucker on you now.”

Coated in sweat and multiple orgasms, Keigo settles down behind you on the bed and pulls you into his chest.

Your pussy throbs from when he milked your sweet cunt down to the very last drop. Your walls are sore, they feel like they have been thrashed with how much they burn. You’ve been rubbed raw, both edged and overstimulated by the hero right behind you. You can’t help but shudder from his hands as he moves you closer to him. You want to cry out, but you shove that want down deep. You don’t dare vocalize the pain you’re in.

“You’re not mad at me, right?” You ask tentatively, too weary to look over your shoulder to gauge Keigo’s emotions.

He nuzzles your ear with his nose and moans a soft sigh. “You’re good now. Love you.” He places a lingering kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you too, Keigo.”

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scottishaccentsareawesome · 5 months

Text

Slider:...OK, so...talk to me about Maverick. Iceman: I fucking hate the guy. Slider: And...? Iceman: And...he's amazing, and incredible, and sexy, and cute, and he has a great smile, and he's a great pilot, and he's funny, and he's got nice eyes, and all of these are reasons why I HATE THE GUY!!!! Slider(writing on a notepad like a psychiatrist): Sure, sure.... (meanwhile, in Maverick's bungalow) Maverick(about Ice): - He's sexy as hell. Wolfman: And...? Maverick: - And I wanna kill him for it. Wolfman(writing in his own notepad): Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm... (later at the O club, Slider gives Wolfman his notepad) Slider: You really think your sister's gonna like these notes for her Psych thesis? Wolfman: You kidding? Those idiots are gonna get her an A-plus.

#incorrect quotes #top gun 1986 #icemav #slider & wolfman #slider and wolfman using icemav for psychiatric study :P #pete mitchell #tom kazansky #ron kerner #henry ruth #maverick mitchell #iceman kazansky #slider kerner #wolfman ruth

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inklore · 2 years

Text

wild child, i want you.

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part two | series masterlist

premise: coming back to hawkins for your summer vacation from college is the last thing you want to do, but you find yourself back in your hometown and it all goes to shit in a matter of weeks. thinking your summer is already a bummer, getting high with the town outcast doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

pairing: eddie munson x richgirl!reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, blowjob (eddie’s first one, he’s a lil virgin in this sorry y’all), drug use, cheesy flirting, past crush unmentioned but there, tiny bit of praise kink, i made eddie’s van cooler than it actually is, reader is a lil self absorbed but it’s ok, mentions of past bullying, class difference, and shit family dynamics.

etc: i may write a part two for this, may turn it into a little mini series depending on the love i get on it. but um this boy is the cutest little virgin and no one can convince me otherwise ok thnx. title from the song wild child by wasp aka a song on this verysexy playlist!

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

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“Shit! Fuck!”

The sounds of aggravation that erupts from your throat are anything but ladylike. The moon shining down just right in the sky to show the hunk of mud that’s now stuck on the top of your red pumps. Pumps that cost too much to be covered in dirt and grime, and yet here they were. Ruined.

All because you had stormed off from the party taking place in the backyard of your long term boyfriend—who was now your ex because fuck him, and fuck this washed up town.

You knew agreeing to come back for the summer would be absolutely detrimental to your psyche. Missing out on what would have been the summer of your life alongside college friends, a new city, on boats, planes; anywhere better than Hawkins!

But being the amazing, doting girlfriend you were, you had been easily convinced by the promise of gifts, booze, and a hell of a summer.

Two weeks in and you were miserable, had ruined Louis Vuitton’s, barely tipsy off of cheap beer, and now newly single.

“Fuck this place!” You scream to yourself, louder than you should have in a not–disturbing–the–peace way, a dog barking in the distance. You needed to catch the first bus out of this dump of a town as soon as possible.

“I completely agree,” comes a voice to the side of you. If the pumping of anger and spite wasn’t making your heart boom in your ear drums right now, or the distraction of materialistic items didn’t have you fuming: you were sure you might have seen them, whoever they are. Or at least smelled them. The heavy scent of weed lingers in the air and you can only assume it’s the weed guy your ex-boyfriend had been talking about.

You weren’t in the mood to deal with anyone else tonight, let alone some stoned out stranger whose opinion you didn’t ask for, or could fake care about.

Turning in their direction you plan on telling them as much, plan on giving them your best bitchy scowl. But when your eyes adjust, actually see who it is; take in the long hair, the mix of jean and leather, the rings that gleam in the moonlight. Your expression changes from annoyance to amusement, your rude rebuttal long forgotten.

“Munson?”

“In the flesh,” his smile is still as boyish as you remember. At least from what you can remember. You graduated two years ago, he didn’t. Either year, so you've heard.

The two of you hadn’t been friends, barely acquaintances. You had a handful of classes with him, even got partnered up with him for one biology project that neither of you truly put the effort into. But you flashed your pretty smile and batted your eyes and got the both of you passing grades—thank god for creepy male teachers.

You and Munson, Eddie, were so far off of the spectrum of being in each other’s realms. The class difference not being the only thing setting you two on two different sides of the universe, let alone Hawkins and your group of friends. The many taunts from your boyfriend and his friends coming back to your mind, and the weird snarkiness Eddie would always fight back with. Unbothered by the stupidity of high school taunts.

“Graduate yet?” You give him a playful smile, lean up against the car behind you to attempt and scrape off the mud on your shoe with your thumb nail.

“No.” He crosses his hands over his chest, “but still keeping up with expectations.” You’re barely listening to him, frowning down at the dirt now caked under your perfectly polished nails, fuck.

You huff out a breath, pull your head back to look up at the night sky. Try to do those breathing exercises you see your mother do when a bird shits on her BMW. “You here for the party?” You both know you’re joking. Know that most, if not all, the rich kids here had once—or still do—rag on him.

“My services got the invite.” He clarifies, “not me, personally, for obvious reasons.” He mumbles that last part and it makes you chuckle under your breath.

“Still the weed guy, huh?” Pulling your head upright again, you look over at him. His response being holding his hands in the air in an ‘obviously’ type motion. Nothing has changed with him, and maybe that’s just what happens when you stay in this dead end town. But something also tells you that Eddie isn’t the type to just change. What you see is what you get, unapologetically.

Must be nice to be that carefree. You could use some carefree in your life; that booming sound of your heart in your ear still pumping with materialistic and asshole boyfriend frustration.

A smile spreads across your lips as an idea pops into your head. As you make the decision to get that carefree feeling in the most synthetic way possible, while also sticking it to the aforementioned asshole in the backyard.

“How much were they going to pay you?”

“For the-”

“Yes, the weed, Munson. How much.” You roll your eyes, that old high school queen bee tone coming back. Making even your own self wince, but who knows when—or if—the smell of weed had already wafted off of Eddie and traveled to the backyard and the two of you were soon to be joined by the rest of the party.

Fuck them.

“Thirty.”

Reaching into your bra, the low cut material of your dress having the perfect swoop to showcase just enough to keep the mystery, but add to the intrigue—helping to house your money snuggly in the cup of your bra; you pull out the folded cash your father had handed to you on your way out of the door.

“I have fifty here.” You hold it out between your forefinger and middle, “it’s yours but we have to leave right now.”

He looks a little surprised, his eyes flash from your chest to the money in your hand.

“You have a car don’t you?” You look around the dead street, try to remember what hunk of junk you may have seen him driving around when you were in school.

“Is the money for the ride or the weed?”

“Both.”

Eddie hums, “seems a bit low.” He crosses his arms, scratches his cheek. Starting up a slow pace as he speaks, “I mean I am risking getting caught with a distinguished lady such as yourself. From what I hear you’re still with your Princeton lover. Don’t know if I need him thinking I’ve stolen you away.”

You think he’s half serious for a second. The look of quarry on his face, but then you see his smile. See that boyish amusement again, it makes the corners of your lips tick up in amusement; contagious. Something you remember from bombing biology together. As much as you wanted to dislike him, ignore him, or push the assignment completely onto him, he had distracted you with weird facts about his band you were not interested in—and the other random nonsense that would slip out always made you roll your eyes and hide the contagiousness of his smile that spread across your face.

But you find yourself holding onto the knowledge that he knew about you and your ex. Don’t know why it’s the only retaining thing your mind seems to keep flashing on, it didn’t matter to you who still talked about you in Hawkins. Especially when you were certain it was out of pure jealousy for you getting out and them not.

You can’t see Eddie contributing in gossip, though. Maybe that’s why you’re holding onto the knowledge that he knows, remembers. Still hates the asshole. Much like you do.

“We broke up.” You state, make clear with a wide smile that you’re more than happy about it. His lips tug up more, stops in his tracks and leans back on his heels a little as he stares at you. The two of you sharing some silent moment before you laugh, “are you going to be my kidnapper or what, Munson?”

He smirks, grabs the money still between your fingers. Nods his head back to the van at the end of the driveway—that only makes sense is his, because of course it is.

“America's Most Wanted here I come!” He hollers a little too loudly, making you laugh.

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“Sorry about the mess.” Eddie maneuvers around you, picks up some of the random garbage and clothes strewn at your feet and throws them in the front.

You’re sat on the small couch he has in the back of his van. The velvet from the cushions softer than you expect it to be on the back of your bare legs. Expecting it to feel grimy at the very least, and maybe that’s not fair of you to expect—or think.

You’re surprised at how unfazed you feel about the random things contributing to the mess back here. Finding yourself actually smiling at the makeshift lights he has hung up, how they cast a red glow and illuminate the posters he has tapped with that thick grey tape you know is going to rip off the paint if he was to ever remove it.

The atmosphere oddly calming, compared to what you are used to.

He pulls out a tape from the glove compartment and slips it into the stereo, a heavy metal track playing low through the speakers, the bass deep enough to rock the van.

You’re parked behind his trailer.

When he had pulled up to it and pulled around the back you were once again reminded just how different your lives really were. Had found yourself scrunching up your nose at the drab looking mobile home. Regretting it the minute Eddie caught you and gave a pressed lipped grin, “can’t build mansions this far out. Grounds too mushy.” He joked, but it only made you feel worse.

Why, you have no idea. It wasn’t your fault you were born with a silver spoon and he was born without one. Neither was a bad thing. He seemed more than happy with his life—knowing what you did about him, that carefree way about him—than you did with your own, it would seem.

The cushions bounce from the way he plops down beside you. Pulling a metal lunchbox out of nowhere and placing it in his lap, “who knew the Princess of Hawkins, knew how to be bad.”

You make a face, “people don’t really call me that do they?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh how clueless the other half live.”

“I can still take back the money, you know.”

“Ooh, not twenty of it, at least.” He clicks his tongue, opens the metal box. The waft of weed stronger, making your nose burn. “Gotta keep that half for risking my life, it’s only fair.”

“You are the chattiest drug dealer I’ve ever met.”

“You meet a lot of them, do ya?” You can see countless baggies of whatever he’s pushing to the side, a lighter, more random junk, and then he’s pulling out a small bag of weed. “You really are bad, Princess,” he smiles.

You have to look away from him, have to hide the cheesy smile that moves across your own face—because it’s annoyingly warm in here, and you are here to escape and get high not become best buds with him. “Just roll it, Munson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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This wasn’t your first time smoking. You had dabbled in weed at parties since your sophomore year. Had taken part with it at the handful of college parties you had been to. You were used to the light feeling, the cravings, the giggles. Or so you thought.

Maybe you just hadn’t been smoking the right stuff. Maybe it had been the liquor you had always paired with it, the buzz you thought you felt from what you smoked actually from the malt and not the shit weed.

Because you’ve never felt this good before. Not from weed. Liquor. Even around your friends.

You felt so good right now.

Your cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much, can’t remember when you had dropped yourself onto the floor of Eddie’s van. Your heels kicked off and feet propped up on the cushions of the sofa—right next to Munson.

He’s not as spread out as you though, maybe a little more lax. His back slouched lower on the sofa, legs spread further apart. Jacket gone, black sleeves rolled up.

Has he always had that tattoo? Just how many rings does one guy need? Your heavy lids ache as you hyperfocus in on the bracelet on his wrist, the tattoo on his arm. Each one of his rings that don’t even budge as his fingers flex, as he uses the small pocket knife he had pulled out from his back pocket; grabbing your discarded heels to scrape the mud from them.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you giggle. “My dad will just buy me another pair.”

A smile spreads, “but you were so upset about them. Even I winced when I saw the mud pile you stepped in, nightmarish.”

He laughs along with you as you completely lose it, “how shitty is it that that is a nightmare to me? Ruined Louis Vuitton‘s.”

Eddie shakes his head, holds up the shoes. Now cleaner than before, way too clean for him to have just used the pocket knife. The bottle of water between his legs spotted upon further inspection, where did that come from?

“We all have expensive things in our lives we don’t want ruined. Shoes, guitars, people.” He shrugs, “not shitty at all. But this clean job might be.” He chews on his lower lip.

You maneuver yourself so you’re not flashing him from the bottom of your dress, as you move your legs from the couch to sit up. Grabbing the red pumps from him to do your best look over, ignoring the burn your eyes give when you widen them.

“Munson, I think you’re in the wrong career.” You tease, smiling up at him. You’re sat in front of his open legs, have the perfect view of that boyish grin.

“Shoe shiner?” He acts bashful, swings his hand around batting the air. “I’m not that good.”

“Think once you graduate you gotta start your own business, ‘Eddie’s Spit n Shine.’” You joke, the both of you doubling over in laughter. Munson holding onto his stomach as he slaps a hand over his knee.

Once your giggles have died down and you can hold yourself up straight, you watch him. Watch the way his cheeks are redder, watch the way he moves some hair out of his face. His previous words of “but you were so upset about them” and “we all have expensive things in our lives we don’t want ruined”. If this had been anyone else, one of your friends, your boyfriend, they would of been just as grumbly about the heels as you. Would have told you to trash them and offer to take you to the strip mall the next day to help you spend more of your fathers money; no big deal.

They wouldn’t have offered to fix them. To do something as simple as what Eddie had done.

And yeah, they were just shoes, and it wasn’t that big of a deal. But something fuzzy was settling in your chest, something in your stomach fluttering like it very much was a big deal.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You ask without thinking. Set your shoes down beside the couch, lay yourself back on the cool floor of the van.

“What?” He chuckles lowly with a hint of confusion. Just as surprised as you are at the question.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Munson.” You chew the corner of your cheek, look up at him. “Not like we were friends, ever, in school. And I remember plenty of times where my friends weren’t the nicest.”

“The rich kids not being nice to anyone who doesn’t drive a Mercedes? Shocking.” He jokes, makes you laugh.

“I’m serious.” You tap his knee that’s peeking out of one of the rips in his jeans with the tip of your finger. “Why are you being so nice?”

His face grows serious, but there’s still a hint of a soft smile there as he leans over to dig in the metal lunchbox again. Pulls out the spliff he rolled earlier alongside the one the two of you already smoked. You watch as his fingers run along it, “your friends may have not been the nicest, especially that lover boy of yours.” He gives you a playful roll of the eyes at the mention, that ache in your cheeks continuing. “But, you were always nice to me.”

“I never stopped them though. From being cruel.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, grabs the lighter resting beside your feet. “You made up for it by helping me not fail biology, for once.”

Your face contorts as you laugh, “put my tits on the line for that grade.”

Eddie chokes out a howl, stops what he’s doing to double over again. “Never been more happy for the power of tits.”

Your throat hurts from how hard you’re laughing. Holding your hand up in front of him in a high-five invite, “to tits!”

“To tits!” He slaps his palm against yours as he holds up the blunt in the other one in a show of salute.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed this hard. Or felt this good. This happy. This playful. This whatever-the-hell-that fluttering feeling was in your stomach. You don’t know where Munson got his stash but damn was it good.

And damn was he cute.

Wait—what?

You quickly avert your eyes from him. Look up at the roof of the van, try to focus on the posters and scattered glow in the dark stars up there. You did not find Eddie Munson cute. You were just severely high right now, and still reeling off of your incredibly fresh break up. That’s all.

You hear the flick of the lighter beside you, hear him take a long puff. Fill his lungs, hold and blow it out, before you see him hold it out for you. Taking it silently, not looking at him—you probably shouldn’t have anymore, not with how you are thinking right now. But you didn’t feel like going back to your parents house. Calling it a night right now didn’t feel right, and it’s not like Eddie was rushing you out of the van.

So you press the blunt to your lips and decide to stop thinking. Just smoke. Listen to the beat of the metal still coming from the speakers.

“Lover boy must have done something tremendously fucked, huh?” He gives you a somber smile when you turn and pass the smoke to him.

“Munson, are you trying to gossip right now? Like we are two catty friends?”

He chuckles, inhales. “Us friends?” He makes a face, smoke rolling out of his mouth. “That’s obscene.”

“Nightmarish.”

“Grotesque.” He puts a hand to his heart, “what would the moms at the country club say?”

You laugh. “I don’t think either of my parents own a gun, so you're safe there. And my mother barely notices me,” you confess. Regret it when you look over at him and see the sympathy on his expression. “Please don’t.” You groan, take your turn to smoke, holding it between your thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t?”

“Give me that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you feel bad for me.” The laugh you let out this time is anything but humorous. There’s no joy. Just a salted down wound that you don’t let anyone see—so you don’t know why you’re talking about it right now—that burns the back of your throat. “I have everything.” You mumble, “perfect life. Perfect future ahead of me, money, the car, the friends, the boyfriend. No one should feel bad for me.”

You’re staring up at the roof again as you hold out your hand to give the blunt back without looking at him. Without acknowledging your own words with anything more than woeful self pitying. Eddie wasn’t interested in hearing about a rich girls problems and you had no interest sharing them. Anymore.

A silence settles between the two of you, it’s awkward and filled with the silently passing of the smoke between you; puffs of air, breaths in. Your heart is beating in your ears again. Except this time it’s something close to embarrassment and not anger.

“It wasn’t pity.” He breaks the silence when your fingers brush against each other when it’s his turn to hit. Your eyes finally finding their way back over to him, “how could someone not notice you?” There’s a twitch in his lips.

And fuck are your eyes burning from how high you are right now or because that was teeth rottingly sweet, and your chest is feeling fuzzy again—and Eddie Munson has some pretty eyes. Fuck.

“With the hair alone,” he waves his hand around emphasizing the top of your head. “Kind of hard to miss ya.” That boyish smile coming back when you start to laugh and lean up to swat him.

“I want my money back, Munson!”

“You’ve already smoked the weed!”

“Pain and suffering!”

“Mine or yours?” He jokes and he’s putting out the rest of the blunt to hold his hands out in surrender, as you lean up on your knees to playfully swat at the side of his arm.

“And here I thought we were actually having a moment.” You scowl at him, “you can take the high school out of the boy but not the—wait—you can’t even do that.”

His jaw drops, looking fake wounded if the big grin on his face is any indication of its falsehood. “The Princess of Hawkins has some bite.”

“I’m not the Princess of Hawkins!” You roll your eyes, “I’m just me–”

“Perfect,” Eddie finishes, adds. His lips come together, he swallows. “Perfect–you.”

You make a face at him. Another childish playful insult on the tip of your tongue but swallowed down, your throat feeling drier than ever as he stares down at you with a type of fondness that has your mind thinking—and feeling—way too many things right now.

And it feels like the moment slows, time stops. You take in everything, really take it in. You on your knees in front of his open legs, your palms on the cut out parts of his jeans that showcase his knees. The fuzziness in your chest turning into something else, something racing and filled with heat. Something that should surely not be there—all from what? Meaningless flirting? Eddie jesting with you?

Weed was definitely not a good idea. You should of just went home. Should ask him to take you home right now before your haze filled mind has you thinking of doing something else you definitely shouldn’t do.

Like move forward. Your knees dragging across the floor until the tops of them are pressed to the bottom of the couch. Until there’s no space left between you and Eddie’s thighs flush against the sides of your arms, his groin inches from your face. Your palms now higher up on his thigh.

You can feel how tense he is right now. Watched his expression go from softness to rigid with nerves. And maybe you are the only one who’s been feeling something tonight. Maybe he can handle his weed better than you. Or is simply not interested in you whatsoever. All his mindless flirting just that: mindless.

But you can’t help but want to test the waters. To see if any of those things are actually true.

Leaning up, your palms digging into the meat of his thigh as you do, your eyes moving from his to his lips and back up. A hint he seems to get when he meets you halfway and your lips are being pressed together in a gentle kiss.

It’s slow at first, curious, new to the both of you. Sloppy, and you can feel Eddie’s hand twitch at his side until he loses whatever fight in his head that has him holding back, and then it’s at your cheek and his thumb is digging into your chin the deeper the kiss gets. The more the two of you learn each other’s mouths. Which way to turn your head, that slow timid way his tongue pokes at your lips and then finds its way into your mouth; the quietest of noises coming from his throat when his tongue rubs against yours.

A noise that makes your stomach flutter. Makes an ache start between your legs.

Have you ever been kissed like this? Have you ever felt like the other person was learning you from the inside out? Memorizing how your lips moved, felt, tasted. The way your own deep rooted noise slips out and vibrates against his lips when his other hand comes to the other side of your head and pulls you so close to him as he leans further down into you. The top of your cleavage rubbing against the material of his shirt, tickled by his hair.

When the two of you finally pull apart, your eyes feel heavier than ever. Feel like all your energy went into that kiss and you feel buzzed. Like you’re on cloud nine. Like you’ve never felt better, as the two of you pant. Try to catch your breaths.

Feeling Eddie’s thumb nail running along your bottom lip you look up to his eyes, see they’re on your lips. His brows pulled together.

“Munson.” You don’t mean for it to sound like a whine. It’s not. You’re not whining right now, you’re just…feeling things and really high and maybe you can’t remember anyone you’ve been with ever touching you like this. And he’s barely touching you.

You may not have thought it to be a whine, but Eddie does. The look in his eyes as they finally meet yours has you floored. Has you seeing a want in a pair of eyes you don’t think you’ve seen before—know you haven’t; needy, nervous because of that need.

And when your palm moves of its own accord higher up and over until you feel a bulge in his tight jeans, the intake of breath he does. The slight droop of his eyes. All the decision you need to act on whatever these feelings are.

There’s disappointment in his eyes when you pull away from him, just enough to have his hands drop from your face and yours finding the top of his pants to open them up and fumble with the zipper.

“Whoa,” a nervous chuckle, then his hands wrapping around your wrists to stop you. “Whoa,” he says again. His breath still heavy. “What–should we–you,” he stammers.

It’s a bit cute, but it also has your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Shit. Have you completely misread this? Maybe he just wanted to kiss. You were fine with just kissing, if it was going to be like that everytime. But there’s an ache, a want, to hear that noise again. The one he had made in the back of his throat. To see the impressive bulge that your fingertips had touched.

“Do you,” you pull your hands back, take them from his hold and chew on your lip, “not want to do this? More..” you trail off. You can’t imagine what you were coming off as right now. Have you ever been rejected? Tonight was clearly the night of firsts for you.

“I,” Munson shakes his head, and your stomach sinks. Face falls. But then he’s shaking his head more aggressively, “no, that’s not,” he sighs. Takes a breath to ground himself, his hands coming to hold the tops of your shoulders. His expression serious, “Yes. I want to do this. I just…I’ve–never thought this would be happening and that I would be admitting to it in a situation, let alone this one–“

And then it clicks.

“Munson.” A slow smile snakes its way across your lips, “are you a virgin?”

His leg bounces, teeth chewing at the corner of his mouth. “Yes.”

“Just to be clear I mean sex, you’ve never had sex?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ve done..other stuff, right?”

Silence for a beat and then he’s shaking his head. You try and fail to hide the surprise on your face, “I should take this as a compliment. Your utter shock.” You can see the blush that is growing up his neck and over his already red cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” Your smile falters for a second, “I just thought with that kiss, you had done something before.” You can’t help but look down at his parted lips, yours still tingling from them. “It was..”

“Perfect.”

That word again. Hits you the same way it had before. Has the both of you staring at each other’s mouths until you’re kissing again. This time faster, harder, the passion seeping from the want and morphing into something that now has you completely on fire. Engulfed by Eddie. Your fingers are in his hair. His hands cradling your face like it’s so fucking fragile.

“Can I taste you?” You’re panting against his mouth, running your hands down his chest back to the top of his pants that are still undone. Open enough that you can push your hand in them and move your fingertips against the top of his shaft. That same noise he did earlier coming out as a puff against your parted mouth.

He nods, “yes.” It sounds so soft and filled with need. He presses one more kiss to your lips before he’s slowly pushing himself back, giving you room and helping you maneuver his pants and boxers down his thighs. Just enough to spring his cock free.

It’s bigger than you imagined it would be—never imagined it to be. But, fuck. How has he not done anything when he kisses like that? When he’s so funny, cute, and nice, and his cock is so thick.

Your jaw aches just staring at it. Tongue coming out to wet your lips as you wrap a hand around the base of him, have to hold back the sound you want to make from the sound he makes; a shallow breath let out, just below a whimper. His hips already jerking involuntarily up, precum at his tip.

“Are you sure? You’re not like…just super high–“

“I am super high, Munson.” You smile sweetly and it makes him do the same. A low laugh covered up by you leaning in to press your lips to his, “and yes, I’m sure. Incredibly.” You hope your own look of want for him comes across clearly, not only in your words but with the way your hand starts to move on his shaft, and the way you run your tongue along his bottom lip.

A breathy, “fuck, oh-kay” slipping out from him.

It’s all the consent you need, the push to have you leaning down to run the flat of your tongue across his leaking tip. The hiss of pleasure he lets out only a prelude to the whimpers and gasps he makes when you let your tongue explore along his length, pumping and sucking with your mouth along a thick vein that runs up the side of his cock. Your thumb rubbing a slow circle behind the head of it, making his hips buck and legs tense around you.

And when you finally put him in your mouth, finally swallow down the already there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him again; your body on fire, your pussy aching.

You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you’re gagging around him and Eddie is cursing and digging his nails into the cushion of the couch.

You completely expect to feel his hand on your head, to be pushing or pulling your hair to guide you. Even fucking up into your mouth. When you’ve done this for other guys they were nothing less than over aggressive about it. So when it doesn’t happen part of you thinks he’s not enjoying it; a thought that’s quickly debunked by the grunts and shaky breaths coming from above you.

And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the cushion in. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, “oh, ohmygod” tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate right now. So flushed and pretty.

You pull your mouth from him, let your lips press the tiniest of kisses to the tip that makes his hips gyrate, chasing your mouth. “You can touch me, Munson.”

“Where?” He asks shakily.

“Wherever you want.” You reach for his hand and press it to your cheek, “here, so you can feel yourself inside of me.” He whimpers, you smile. “Or here,” you run his hand down your neck, raise your brows to note that area being an option before you descend further. Until you reach the top of your cleavage, “to tits.” You say playfully and it has a deep chuckle scrunching his eyes. “Okay?”

He hums, nods. “Okay.”

And then your mouth is on him again, his tantalizing noises back and making your thighs press closer together. Making you encourage the small thrusts of his hips up into your mouth. Drool slipping down your chin when your own whimper is dredged up from the back of your throat when you feel the pad of his thumb run along your hard nipple; before his palm squeezes and massages your boob in a way that makes you move your body further into his.

The pleasure you’re giving him being handed back to you with the same energy of want and need, and it has you shellshocked. Has your body working overtime with heat, arousal, and wanting to please him. Wanting to hear more of those groans. To feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat and his “holy shit, that feels so good” when your throat spasms around him.

If you knew sucking Eddie Munson’s dick was this fun you would of done it years ago.

Why hadn’t you seen him before this night? Why did it take weed and giggles and flirting that turned you on more than you want to admit—to really see him. And why did the thought of not being able to look away from him again, to go back to not seeing him, something that was inevitable: make fear take root in your chest?

His hand has moved to hover over your head, his rings adding more pressure to the back of your skull than his actual fingers do. “You’re so perfect,” he whimpers. Pushes his hips up into your mouth, pulling your lips further down his throbbing shaft. “Perfect.” He repeats, your stomach flutters and flops and you preen around him. His breaths get deeper, hips moving more frequently, fingers flexing in your hair. He’s close, so so close.

And if you thought the noises he was making before were beautiful, the whine he lets out when he says, “I’m going to come, can I–oh fuck–can I do it in your mouth?” Makes your eyes roll back, your head nodding in approval and then you can feel him leaning back; a loud moan coming from his mouth, his fingers gripping the hair on top of your head as he comes against your tongue. The searing heat from it like a salve to the ache in your throat.

You swallow him down. Let your tongue lap at the droplets left on his tip as you suck him into your mouth one last time before he’s letting out a hiss of over sensitivity.

He tastes just as lovely as he looks right now. Completely flushed, eyes red and heavy. One corner of his mouth ticked up in a soft smile.

“Did I hurt you?”

“What?”

“Your hair,” his fingers rub at the back of your skull gently. “I’m sorry if I pulled too hard,” the softness of his words has your chest feeling heavy. Those feelings back, your arousal under shadowed.

“No,” you shake your head. Pull his hand from the back of your head, don’t know why, but you let your lips skate across his rings as you kiss his fingers. “It was perfect.”

His mouth pulls into that boyish grin, for the millionth time tonight. “It was.”

Maybe your summer won’t be so boring after all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things one shot #joseph quinn #heavy metal love !

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universecorp · 2 years

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⤷ incubus!soobin x fem!reader

⤷ w.c: 5.7k

⤷ summary: to you, he was the prettiest human you’ve ever seen, and thanks to your luck, you two end up becoming partners in your psych class. as time went by, the boy kept appearing in your dreams at the weirdest times. but now, you’re not too sure about the human part…

⤷ contents: dom!soobin, sub!reader, religious corruption, oral (fem receiving), degradation, slight dumbification, pervy soobin, FILTH, wet dreams, demon-like features (horns, nails, tail, teeth, split tongue, and wings), mirror sex, overstimulation, masturbation, soobin is BIG, unprotected sex, if i missed anything sorryyy :( ⤷ author's note: this is my first publicly published fic but i'm super excited to share! hopefully you guys enjoy! also, the lowercase is intentional. – jae

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“why did i think signing up for morning classes was a good idea? i basically just set myself up.”

that thought ran wild in your head as you stared at your purple lit ceiling. it was was too fucking early to learn psychology but hey, your day was done right after it so, like the “responsible” student you were, you forced yourself out of your bed and put on cute yet comfortable clothes to get yourself started with the day. thankfully, campus wasn’t that far from your off-campus apartment so what’s the point of wasting gas when you could just walk?

perfect timing, 15 minutes early and nobody was there. you picked the most convenient seat in the room and unpacked your folders and notebook to begin with class. not even 10 minutes later, more and more students started rolling in and finding seats beside their friends or people they found attractive to grab their attention.

but then there’s him..

yeah, him the one with the specks and black hair that stood out to you but probably not to everyone else; why is that? you remembered the first time he came in the class, he was just a week behind because of the class switch period but, once he walked in he immediately caught your eye. if you could recall, you believed his name was soobin; tall, pretty face and beautiful lips, everything about him was beautiful and portioned correctly. it’s a shame you were the only one who appreciated his beauty.

“alright guys if you check in our class section, you will see the group that you’re in for the rest of this project so get comfortable with one another cause you’re stuck with them for a while,” a small laugh fell from the professor's lips like it was sooo funny. everybody groaned at the end of his spiel and started moving towards the numbered tables. you were table 2 so you didn’t have to move at all but in the corner of your eye you saw two bodies approaching you.

“you must be—“

“____! hi,” you smiled. you turned your head fully to get a glimpse of your two partners and dear god your luck must be either shitty or great. soobin sat down beside you while the other partner sat across from both of you. to you, this had to be either some sort of punishment or blessing; he smelt so good like freshly folded laundry with a hint of cologne. you couldn’t even imagine what he sounded like too.

you pulled out the rubric of the project quickly before you could turn to the pretty boy and ask him his name. he didn’t seem tense and he didn’t seem nervous to talk either but, he did seem a little standoffish the way he immediately went to write notes down before introducing himself.

“what’s your name?” you asked looking directly at his face hoping to burn holes in them so he could have eye contact with you. the other partner already introduced themself right after asking your name. he finally took his focus away from the notes and looked at your eyes glowing with curiosity as to who the hell he was.

“i’m soobin.”

—————

on your way back home all you could think about was him. the rest of the class he was quiet, only wrote down notes, and typed in the things that he thought would help us out with the project.

“maybe he’s shy,” you convinced yourself. this is the first time you’ve met him so maybe he’s just a little nervous.

before you left the class, you asked your group if they wanted to come to the food court on campus to discuss the project and possibly get to know one another. sadly, the other partner had to attend another class right after so the only one was soobin. to no avail, he looked down at you with an unreadable expression and said, “no.”

it wasn’t like you did something to him so why was he so cold? you brushed it off once you got inside of your apartment and took a quick shower. you threw yourself onto your bed and cuddled up in your sheets to take a quick nap.

it was so blurry. you couldn’t make out anything except for the fact you were in class. everyone was sitting together with their group but you were sitting all by yourself. you checked your phone looking at the time seeing class was going to start in 10 minutes. finally, soobin walked in and took his place beside you smelling good as usual but this time with a little more cologne. the professor came to your table explaining how the other partner dropped the class and how it will just be you and soobin this time. you nodded your head and faced the pretty boy watching him as he eyed your face and then your stature up and down with a sly smirk on his face. “wanna go to the food court?”

you woke up to your ceiling being lit blue this time and the sky dark. you literally just started talking to the boy and here you go having dreams about him but, it was nothing crazy so you went on about your night.

well… you wished it was nothing crazy..

“your partner dropped the class so you and soobin will just be the only group with two people. if you need help with the project just let me know.”

this was too much like deja vu, too much of a coincidence. the dream happened two days ago but you remembered it so vividly when the professor spoke. maybe it was just a foreshadowing, usually dreams like that can happen.

all class, you and soobin worked on the project and he spoke a little more than usual. “i created a doc where we can jot down ideas at the same time,” you spoke taking out the said document. the title was called “the mind of sex;” your group decided to talk about the minds of those and how one’s psych can effect their sexual adrenaline and desires. “i found some sites that can help us as well.”

soobin nodded as his fingers went to work on his computer. honestly, seeing him focus and type away made you wonder what goes on in his head. this topic is definitely going to open some weird behaviors and some awkward feelings but he seemed like he didn’t care. you both are adults after all but you knew this topic would make you feel extremely awkward, especially around somebody so handsome.

“you want to go to the food court?” you blinked once you realized he was staring at you. the shuffling of people packing up and talking about whatever the hell tuned back into you; were you staring that hard?

“oh- yeah we can, sorry..” you never put your stuff away that fast before. the way he asked in such a soft yet deep voice made your cheeks warm. little did you know, soobin knew the effect he had on you, watching you with a little smirk.

—————

days, weeks, even a month passed and this project was close to being finished. every week, you and soobin decided to go to the food court after that class. he’s much warmer than you thought he was, laughing at your jokes, sharing food, and being an amazing partner that didn’t make you do all the work. you also realized that the topic isn’t as awkward as you thought.

“hey you wanna try this ice cream flavor with me? i heard it’s super good,” you asked. you already purchased it and grabbed two spoons getting ready to dig in but you believed it would be better if he tried it with you. he laughed and grabbed the spoon getting ready to taste it with you. your eyes grew wide at the flavour loving it so much while soobin on the other hand hated it.

“yeah.. you can have it..” he gagged, drinking his soda to flush the taste down. you giggled at him and continued eating it with glowing eyes, those same glowing eyes you gave him when you asked him his name. he nibbled on his lip watching you look around while eating it. almost like a little kitten. “…cute.”

you didn’t hear him.

thank god you didn’t.

ironic of him to be saying ‘thank god…’

soobin looked to the right to see two men watching you.

“seems like at least one of them has the hots for you,” he sighed. you looked over to see the two men nod their head up ‘hey.’ you rolled your eyes and looked back at soobin.

“maybe they want you instead,” you smiled, bringing your attention back to your ice cream and phone. soobin wasn’t stupid, he’s a man too after all. you were absolutely beautiful to him and definitely to others, and the way you’re licking around that spoon could have anybody go nuts for you.

yeah.. especially the way you were licking it.

it’s in soobin’s nature, he can’t help it. somebody with such a cute face licking the spoon sinfully can only make his brain run wild. thinking about how you would look getting on your slightly red knees, licking at his clothed dick begging for it to choke yo—

“soobin?” his eyes were dark. way too dark. almost like your dream. lately, you’ve been having dreams about him more and more. they would be normal dreams like you two going to the food court or going on a cute small date but before you would wake, his eyes would look dark. no life, no feeling, just dark. and every time you saw them your stomach would churn. a pool inside your gut will toss and make your face feel hot, almost like you were aroused but it was only for a slight second, not enough for you to fully pinpoint the kind of feeling it was.

but it happened again and this time you weren’t dreaming.

“oh shit, i forgot i have to go! i’ll talk to you later okay, text me when you get home!” before you could even say goodbye he left. you blinked a couple of times before brushing off that anxious feeling. you loved soobin yes, but every once and a while this anxious feeling would come to you, itching your brain like it was telling you to run but you ignored it. soobin has proved himself more and more that he’s a sweetheart and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. so why was your gut reacting this way?

where were you? it almost looked like your room…maybe? you were burning up, sweat running down your face but your lower half was uncomfortably wet. your gut was tight with arousal wanting nothing more than to get off but you just couldn’t move.

now, it cut to a body. a head actually. your hands gripping their hair as their tongue lapped against your folds and slurped against your clit. every muscle in your body wanted to buck your hips into their mouth, wanting them to go faster but dear god the strength that they had around your hips was inhumane. curses left your lips as you felt that rope begin to snap but why wasn’t it. it felt drawn out like you couldn’t release at all yet you were so close. they sucked harder, using their fingers inside of you hitting that spot every time they curved them up.

“please.. please please i’m so close,” you sighed, knowing your juices were sticking to the bed and the strangers face. their hand came up to your chest, pinching your hardened nipple taking you to the edge but not there. it was only a little bit away. just a little.

“please.. soobin—“

your brain didn’t stop. the dream kept going, completely ignoring the fact you said his name. it was just a dream right, no harm or anything, you couldn’t control it.

if anybody else was living in your apartment, they would definitely hear the noises you were making, such slutty and dirty noises. you tossed and turned in your bed, humping the air feeling like your dream was real.

and it was all his doing.

soobin sat on the balcony, right outside of your window. legs crossed, eyes gold, horns curled, nails long and sharp, and wings larger than the average demon and a long tail with a heart shaped spike at the end. his presence is only sensed by you in your dream, nobody else. he could see how the dream was playing out, making the scenes unfold but to his surprise, before he could bring himself into the mix, you were already begging for him. a shiver ran through his spine after hearing his name fall from your mouth so prettily. his sharp canines bit at his lip, feeling himself get hard at the thought of you bucking up into his face, begging for him to fuck you and make a mess of you.

he’s so close to making you finally his.

—————

the dreams wouldn’t stop. every morning you would wake up unsatisfied, aroused beyond belief at that thought of soobin. he appeared in your dreams more often then at usual doing the most unholy things to you. at one point, there was a time where your plump lips wrapped around his girthy dick, feeling every vein on your tongue, and watching his face with wide eyes. then, there was when he fucked you against the wall, burns on your back from the friction. and then, you sitting on his face, riding his tongue feeling so fucking good.

it was driving you insane.

you would wake up around the same time every night, 3:45 am. your panties soaked with precum and that itch that you needed to fulfill.

the average person would just change their underwear and sleep it off. but you? you couldn’t. you immediately took your phone and scrolled through twitter to find something, just anything to help you finish. your vibrator in one hand with the phone in the other, finding some pretty girl getting pounded by this man with a huge dick just like soobin had in her dream. her moaning, drool coming out of the side of her mouth and cum spilling from her cunt.

maybe it was the lack of sleep.

or maybe it was the frequent dreams about him.

but as you looked at the videos, it seemed like the video changed from the girl to you, and the man to soobin, him being the one pounding into you like you were some lifeless fuck toy.

you felt so guilty. you felt like complete shit, but fuck you couldn’t help it. moaning out his name as you finished yourself off after the blue-balled dream that you had.

yet you still went to class. guilt rushed through your body as you saw the pretty boy walk into class with a big smile on his face as he saw you. you tried to return the favor but the guilt just kept eating at you.

but the devil was winning terribly today.

soobin became awfully clingy today. his hand placed on your thigh, his fingers playing with your own, even a tight back hug here and there and it was driving you insane. your panties soaked once again as you thought about your unforgivable actions, seeing the size difference between your hand and his, wishing it was around your neck instead.

more and more arousal fell into your panties and fuck soobin can smell it. it was intoxicating to him. if he didn’t have all that self control his eyes would’ve immediately turned gold. he both knew that you and him could not fight it off any longer.

“since we have to present on thursday, is it cool if i come over so we can practice it?” he asked. maybe it was because you were eager for a crumb of his presence. or maybe something or somebody was controlling you to answer the way you did.

“yeah sure!”

you both walked together, grabbing snacks along the way. you had some bottles of wine as well so you guys can have a good time.

“you’re really good at speaking,” you told him. you both just ran over lines to get a grasp on it to see how much you both could remember.

“you think so?” he asked, sitting back down beside you taking a sip of his wine. the wine definitely made you feel more loose and not so tense, it’s almost like you forgot about why you were so tense.

“yeah, it’s almost like you’re drawing people in when you talk. its really good.” it’s almost like you were talking from experience. his voice was intoxicating, it drew you in immediately. you two talked more about the subject and ate some of the chips you guys bought as well.

“it’s still funny to me how kinks are considered psychological disorders,” you chuckled watching the tv.

“what? you saying you have some?” he chuckled. yeah he was a demon alright, he knew where this was going and so did you but the wine didn’t make you back down from the question.

“if you tell me yours i’ll tell you mine.”

“oh please,” he laughed. “this has to be a set up. you probably don’t even have one.” you smiled and bit your lip trying to hold back a laugh but you took one more sip of your wine and drew your attention back at him.

“i like… looking at myself in the mirror. is that a kink?” you asked, eating your chips again. usually you’re not like this but this feeling that this man was resonating made every impulsive thought leave your mouth. he looked over at you as he drank his wine, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“you’ve had sex in front of a mirror before?” his voice low and his eyes heavy as he watched your reaction. every hormone that he was giving off was slowly affecting you, your lip between your teeth and your legs closed together trying to calm yourself down. from your reaction, it didn’t seem like you had sex in front of one. “or did you fuck yourself in front of it?”

god you hope he didn’t hear you.

a small gasp came from your lips at his words.

he was so close to jumping on you. the little bit of sanity that he had left stopped him.

“for me,” he began. “i love seeing my partner beg and look helpless under me..”

it was like you were under some spell. words that you understood started to turn into a different language, like it was demonic. your body started to burn up, stomach turning creating that same churn that you had in your dreams. your breath started to quicken as you felt yourself drip into your panties.

“fuck..” you moaned throwing your head back. the trance wouldn’t stop and so did his words, it felt like torture. you gripped onto the arm of the sofa trying to find something to give you leverage. the voices wouldn’t leave your head and this addicting feeling wouldn’t either. where was soobin? was he okay?

just like he read your mind, he looked down at your helpless state, eyes gold and horns showing. his beautiful hand grabbing your face.

“you poor thing,” he whispered. the voices went away but this rope in your gut didn’t. your skin was on fire making you want to rip your clothes off one by one. “doesn’t this feel so familiar?”

what was he talking about? you couldn’t even think, your focus only being on wanting this feeling to go away. but he was right, this did feel familiar.. the fever like temperature, the churning, and his presence, this felt too familiar.

“all those dreams, you thought those were normal?” you moaned at his words, scenes of your dreams played behind your eyelids. you bucked your hips into the air trying to feel something, just anything. you opened your eyes, looking at soobin’s state.

his eyes gold, horns curled, canines sharp.

you’ve heard of this before. an incubus. somebody who comes in your dreams and feast off of your wet dreams. to think it was real… to think it was soobin.

his hand let go of your face but placed it softly under your chin with his thumb caressing your cheek.

“i almost feel bad,” he whispered bringing his face close to yours. “betraying you like this. you look so helpless and confused. it makes me want you more, lovely. do you still love me? you still love the soobin you knew before?”

you can’t be this insane… you swear you couldn’t.

looking at his face, his demon features, and the surprising warmth coming from his hand, it made you spiral.

“so… so pretty…” you whispered. your heart rate sped up the longer you looked at him. you knew it, everything about him screamed he was hiding something and yet you found it so attractive. the darkness in his eyes that he had for a split second every time you looked at him, the sly smirk,the anxious feeling that you got, everything screamed something to you. yet, this soobin was just as beautiful.

you brought your weak hand up, placing it on his cheek. the sharp heart shaped end of his tail slowly moved along with your movement, anticipating your every move.

“pl… please soobin…” you whined, your stomach still churning wanting to feel him inside of you. soobin must’ve gone soft, his heart weak for you after he heard those soft words leave your lips.

he brought himself around and picked you up, placing you against the wall. one of his hands held you up while the other ran up your stomach. his plump lips found yours, canines biting down onto your lip. the sigh of relief that left your lips after finally feeling what you’ve been wanting for months. his large bulge rubbed against your clothed cunt, making you whimper into the kiss.

breaking from the kiss, he made his way to your neck. rubbing his nose against you, taking in your scent and hearing the blood pump through your veins. his lips placed soft kisses against your neck until his tongue found its way.

his fucking tongue. his tongue soft, long, and split slowly taking in the taste of your skin. a groan came from within him, making him buck into you.

“holy fuck…” you breathed. he smiled against your skin at your choice of words. he looked at your face, your eyes low and dark with lust and cheeks flushed. fuck he could’ve came just looking at you. he brought his sharp nail to your shirt, easily ripping it in the center showing your braless chest. he place his hand on you stomach making your chest tighten more. a deep moan came from your lips feeling your blood rush further down to your cunt.

“soobin please…!” you pleaded.

as evil as soobin can be, he has a rule set; in order for him to give you what you wanted, you had to invite him in. this was a form of consent for the demon for you to give him your all andfor him to do the same. this was also a bonding form for you to stay with him, to be his till death.

a circle with words in a different stroke pattern appeared on your stomach, glowing a bright yellow.

“do you want me, lovely?” he groaned into your ear. “you want me to give you want?”

tears streamed down your face as whimpers came out of your mouth. you could feel your slick slide down your leg, coating his covered dick.

“if you let me in baby, your life will change. your Lord won’t be able to save you, love…” his tongue wrapped around to the other side of your neck, feeling you gulp at his menstrations. “you will be a walking sin along with me, no verse, no prayer, no forgiveness can save you. do you want that?”

you didn’t care, you wanted soobin, every part of him you needed. even if that meant staying with him for the rest of your life, you didn’t care.

you nodded your head but that wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“you need to say it baby. invite me.”

“yes…! i.. fuck i invite you…!”

his middle and ring finger traced the circle on your stomach flashing red when finished. soobin wasted no time bringing you to your room and throwing you on the bed.

he threw his shirt off, his spiked tail moving side to side in excitement. he pulled down your shorts and panties in one movement, seeing your cunt unbelievably soaked.

“fuck…” he breathed, pulling your ankles and dragging you down to the end of the bed. he brought your thighs around his head, flattening his split tongue separating your folds. your back arched from the bed, gripping onto your sheets for mercy. you tasted so good, so sweet and addicting.

ideas of what to do to you kept running through his mind. he wanted to see you on your knees, he wanted to see it slide into you, he definitely wanted to taste you to the point he wouldn’t forget your taste. everything was running through his mind and his dick. his hand climbed up your body, finding its way to your breast pinching your nipple between his fingers. his tongue never finding a break between your folds; his split tongue scissoring along your clit intensely then finally making its way into your entrance. your thighs began to shake around his head, threatening to close around him but of course he wasn’t going to let that happen. he slapped your quivering thigh making you whine at the pain only for it to be followed by two more slaps. his tongue showed no mercy, reaching places within you making your build up come quicker than usual.

he pulled away, bringing himself up to look into your eyes. his nails contracted into a human-like nail bed making it easier for him to coat his digits with your arousal. his slick lips finding its way to your chest,your neck, and then to your cheek.

“you want me right here baby?” he groaned against your cheek. his fingers only grazing your clit and entrance, making it messier. for a slight second his hand stopped its menstrations causing a whine to fall from your lips, bucking up into nothing trying to follow his touch.

but fuck he didn’t like that.

a wave of pain ran through you as his hand slapped your cunt. he licked at your cheek with a smile forming on his lips. then he did it again.

and again…

and again…

“you’re not gonna answer me babe..?” the salty taste of your tears fell on his tongue as he continued to lick your reddened cheek. of course a slut like you would enjoy that pain, your pussy getting wetter by the second. his fingers slowly rubbed against your clit, riling you up more. “tell me that you want me.”

his name fell from your lips as his digits slid through your entrance. the pace was antagonizing yet so fucking delicious. who would've thought that would send you over the edge?

“shit…” you gasped as your pussy convulsed around his fingers. the rope finally snapped, making your mind go blank and body go numb. soobin chuckled to himself as he pulled his fingers out, cum slowly rolling down his fingers.

“you’re so pathetic.” bringing his fingers towards his mouth, his tongue licked around his covered fingers making you clench around nothing. the sight was unbearable, you could feel your gut begin to churn again at the lewd view. he’s a demon for a reason, looking so sinful by doing the most unholy thing. his fingers made its way back into you, curling against your g-spot drawing out moans that fell from your lips once again. you whined at the overstimulation but fuck you loved it.

“—ant it… inside…” you begged. you couldn’t take the foreplay any longer. he pursed his eyebrows up as he looked at your face. you turned your head over to look at him, chest heaving up and down and drool running down the side of your lip. “soobin..”

god you were so beautiful. his chest felt tight as he watched you beg for him, only saying his name. he brought his hands toward his sweats, dick begging to be released. his dick flew to his belly button, precum slapping against it. you lifted yourself onto your elbows wanting a glimpse of what was going to go inside you and holy shit—

“i wonder if it’ll fit?” he smiled to himself. his hand wrapped around his dick slowly pumping it. you lifted yourself up just a little bit more, bringing your quivering hand to his shaft. “it will…” you whispered. he watched your actions with lidded eyes, feeling his heart pound in his chest faster and faster. you pumped his cock slowly, feeling the vein pulse against your soft hand. your thumb rubbed against his tip and his frenulum, collecting his precum. his head fell back at the sensation, fucking into your hand wishing it was your throat already. “can i… um…”

he knew what you wanted, you wanted to finally taste him as well. he brought his head back to look down at those same glowing eyes only making his dick twitch more. he brought his hand to his face, smiling into his palm. “you’re gonna drive me insane.”

he grabbed at your ankles again, pulling you closer to his standing dick. he brought his tip to your entrance slowly pushing it in bringing out an elongated moan from the both of you at needed feeling. his nails retracted against your hips, losing control of his abilities. “damn you feel so good.” he pushed himself more into your heat finally bottoming out forcing your breath to quicken trying to regain calmness but fuck his dick was so big it was unbearable. his thumbs rubbed circles against your sides, shushing you. “you’re okay… you’re okay i got you.”

he pulled his hips away slowly pulling out a gasp from your lips. the pain was turning into intoxicating pleasure, bringing a moan out to indicate you were fine. the grip on your hips became tighter as he jolted his hips into you.

there was no turning back now.

the sound of skin slapping at a fast pace ripped through your silent room. his sharp teeth bit into his plump bottom lip causing some blood to run down them. your voice wouldn't stop, the force this man—demon—was using was pushing it out of you more and more. your breast jumped from the impact, becoming a beautiful view for him.

“it’s like you want your neighbors to hear you,” he smirked. your neck was too far for him to reach, resulting in his tail to wrap around your neck, pressing against the arteries causing your head to go light.

“oh… mygod—“ you choked out. soobin was making a complete slut out of you, using his abilities to bring the sin out of you. his tail became tighter around your neck making you moan at the pressure. you could only imagine how disgusting you both looked.

and you were right, it was fucking disgusting.

“open your eyes, lovely.”

you slowly opened your lids and found a random mirror on the ceiling. soobin’s tail around your throat, his head thrown back in pleasure, and your body convulsing around him. fuck it was so hot. the view of his dick thrusting inside of you and the strings of arousal sticking to his body after each thrust was the breaking point for you.

“gonna cum…!” you mewled. his tail brought your body up just a little to make eye contact with him. his eyes dark instead of gold, making you whimper even louder. “then beg.”

pleads fell from your lips as that rope was starting to snap again. his tongue stuck out just a little and his sharp teeth showed into a smirk. he was approaching his high as well and the need to cum inside of you was incredible.

“cum with me..” he groaned, his thrusts becoming more frantic and off pace. your voice gradually became louder as you clenched around his dick. that action alone made him release inside of you, his warm cum hitting your walls and sliding out of you. he pulled his dick out, seeing the cum drip out of your spazzing cunt. fuck, you were beyond everything he wanted. he couldn’t believe that you, the one that he desperately needs, bonded to him for the rest of your life. god, he felt his dick get hard again, eyes wavering between your fucked out face and your cunt. before he even realized, he was stuffing himself back into you.

“i…i can’t— ahh… fuck soobin please…” the overstimulation was too much but he felt so right against your walls. he brought his chest against yours, lips attached to your neck as he slowly fucked into you.

“fuck i’m losing my mind…” he breathed into your ear. his hips started to speed up, listening to the lewd sounds you and him were making. his groans turned into whimpers as he rutted into you. “feel so good…”

his name fell from your lips again, your hips meeting him at a perfect pace. your nails dug into his wide back, biting into his shoulder as your moans got louder. fuck he was approaching fast and so were you.

“kiss me,” you whined. he pecked at your cheek until he finally met your sore lips. teeth clashing here and there and moans being drowned out by the other’s lips. your cunt clenched around his dick, milking every little bit of him out.

he lifted himself off of you looking at your half-conscious state. the seal on your stomach appeared once again, glowing red. the same two fingers he used earlier he used again, tracing the outline to officially complete the seal.

“see you soon, ____.”

#jaework #txt #txt smut #soobin #choi soobin #soobin smut #choi soobin smut #kpop smut #kpop #unicorp

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weirdmageddon · 8 months

Text

yesterday i wrote a scene where jade wasnt a plot device and was left the hell alone in A6A5 because this being dave and jade’s last proper conversation in years made me sad and i wanted to see them reunite properly. i mixed a bit of narration in too even though it was rare around this point in the comic but its just to paint a better picture. also i wouldnt mind feedback on character voice (it’s important to me that the dialogue sounds believable)

[3 years are over, everyone is in the new session. The prospit ship is on LOMAX, as is everyone who arrived on the meteor, safely warped by Jade onto LOMAX as well. Jade has banished B2 Jack to the Furthest Ring already. She hasn't seen her friends in 3 years, not to mention she never met the trolls in person yet.]

[Jade teleports to LOMAX where John was talking with the meteor crew. Her eyes widen when she sees the trolls, giving everyone a greeting. Jade waves to the trolls.]

You’ll have time to catch up with them later. First you want to reconvene with Rose and Dave.

> ==>

Dave... Oh my god! DAVE!!! That’s right! The last time you saw him, he died in your arms after Jack redirected the bullets from your gun into his body!

JADE: dave!!!! DAVE: hey DAVE: this has been three years coming hasnt it DAVE: cmere

> ==>

[Dave hugs Jade with a slight grin on face. He notices her… sniffing him?? but doesn’t even bother to question it.]

JADE: it is so nice to hold your body when its not a corpse :) DAVE: ok DAVE: weird thing to say DAVE: actually who am i kidding who gives a shit DAVE: i almost forgot how much i missed the enigmatic riddlefuckery that is your phrasing DAVE: fortunately i have context for this so i know what youre saying DAVE: humor me for a sec and imagine that i didnt DAVE: but first DAVE: are those dog ears JADE: yes! i am part dog now JADE: because i prototyped my dreamself with becsprite JADE: jadesprite became part of me! and so did her doggy traits from bec DAVE: got it DAVE: oh yeah john mentioned that on the back of his dumb poster inside that bucket that appeared out of thin air DAVE: right before we had to haul ass out of there before jack caught up to us DAVE: karkat had a complete fucking meltdown over that btw i wish you couldve seen it DAVE: damn it feels like so long ago now JADE: heheheh i remember JADE: john realized it at the last second but it was too late! DAVE: of course it was johns idea only he could do something that gooberish DAVE: you know what this means though JADE: yup!! woof woof DAVE: it means youve done it harley DAVE: youve finally done it god damn it DAVE: the evolution of humankind is finally upon us DAVE: the scientists said it would never happen in our lifetime DAVE: but look what we have here DAVE: before me stands mans first legitimate furry subspecies DAVE: homo canis DAVE: as the name implies theyre gay as fuck btw DAVE: its too bad all those scientists are dead and cant witness this phylogenetic breakthrough DAVE: rip to the science community yall wouldve lost your collective shit DAVE: hey jade lets pour one out for the science community for being real ones

> ==>

You are still nestled into Dave’s shoulder. He’s taken a sort of protective position over you. Your perceptive barkbeast ears can hear his formerly bullet-riddled heart beating a mile a minute with the regularity of quartz beneath his time-branded pajamas, all the while he continues to ramble to you about certifiably dumb shit. You can tell Dave is psyched to see you again, even if he expresses it in his OWN bizarre way, which means extended metaphors and topical tangents. What a hypocrite, calling YOUR phrasing perplexing! You sure missed this guy.

You realize you started tuning him out while thinking about all this.

DAVE: jade JADE: umm homo is the species name JADE: so wouldnt that mean were all gay? :p DAVE: yeah that sounds about right DAVE: anyway enough of this bullshit

> ==>

[Dave motions to retract his arms since he doesn’t want it to get too weird, but Jade squeezes tighter. Dave immediately yields to the movement]

DAVE: jesus wow ok DAVE: really happy to see you too DAVE: like if you had a tail it would be wagging so forcefully youd be knocking over all the fucking furnishings in the room DAVE: just slapping it so hard on the owners thigh that it feels like theyre being flogged DAVE: talk about getting bitch slapped JADE: :D DAVE: so howve you been JADE: really really excited to see you guys all again!!! JADE: and to meet the trolls! DAVE: yeah theyre pretty weird DAVE: and im still not used to it DAVE: but it gets more manageable the longer youre around them DAVE: by the way JADE: ?

> ==>

DAVE: sorry you had to go through that JADE: through what? DAVE: seeing me die and stuff again DAVE: except that time right in front of you JADE: .... DAVE: when we were gathering up all those frogs i knew jack was going to appear DAVE: i was waiting and waiting to play it out DAVE: mentally rehearsing my fucking torso getting turned into swiss cheese and knowing you would have to watch on top of it DAVE: i had to make sure it happened to protect the integrity of the alpha timeline DAVE: but if you knew this was going to happen you wouldve tried to prevent it and created a doomed one DAVE: and so i didnt say anything DAVE: i couldnt DAVE: so DAVE: sorry for putting you through that JADE: oh..... JADE: dave D: JADE: well im here JADE: if you ever want to talk about it DAVE: its cool DAVE: you just deserve to know what happened there DAVE: but thanks DAVE: so am i JADE: yeah i know JADE: i guess i should be glad you did that then... JADE: even though i was freaking out when it happened ._. JADE: otherwise you wouldnt be here will us now dressed in your red god tier time pajamas DAVE: yeah these magical rags really are comfortable arent they DAVE: and they stay like perma clean JADE: they are! i would wear mine over and over for days on end JADE: id take a nice shower and put it right back on JADE: and you know how much i love cycling my outfits through my wardrobifier JADE: by the way dave your cape is sooo cool! :o DAVE: thanks DAVE: yeah i love it its hella soft DAVE: its like ive got a portable snuggle blanket with me in case i ever need to drop to the floor like a tired sack of shit and get my snooze on DAVE: ive got a permanent personal reservation at club bed featuring dj pillow and mc blanky JADE: heheheh JADE: can i touch your cape? DAVE: of course go nuts JADE: yaaaay!!

#hs #homestuck #davejade #dave strider #jade harley #my hs dialogues

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dovahbeeotch · 4 months

Text

NORMANDY SR2 INFO BOARD HOLIDAY EDITION

[NEW MESSAGES AS OF 12:09]

12:09- XO. LAWSON: Good afternoon. As all of you know, it’s the winter holiday season on earth. I would like to invite @all to the starboard deck for a cultural exchange at 14:00 for anyone interested in learning about human winter traditions.

-

REMINDERS:

- Candy canes are NOT weapons. ALSO they are a privilege, not a right.

- Mistletoe (the greenery hanging from the roof) is NOT edible.

- Mess Sergeant Gardner is dressing up as Santa Clause; if you see a man with a white beard and red clothing DO NOT OPEN FIRE.

- Menorahs are NOT edible.

- Hot chocolate is HOT. Human skin is sensitive. For the love of god, just be responsible.

-

Happy Holidays. See you there.

12:10- FLT. MOREAU: seriously

12:10- LT. TAYLOR: how stupid do you think we are?

12:10- CHF. ZORAH: yayyy happy holidays! merry christmas, happy hanukkah, joyous kwanzaa, feliz navidad, gung hay fat choy!!! am i saying those right??

12:10- GO. VAKARIAN: someone did research last night

12:10- LC. SHEPARD: goddamn it, did grunt eat another menorah?

12:11- SPEC. JACK: im pretty sure mistletoe is edible. i mean it’s a plant, right?

12:11– SPEC. MASSANI: good goddamn point

12:11- SPEC. GRUNT: will there be food other than the roof salad

12:11- LC. SHEPARD: i would like to point out— candy canes absolutely are weapons. i dropped a guy with one once.

12:11- XO. LAWSON: Not helping, Shepard.

12:11- SPEC. GRUNT: noodles please

12:11- SPEC. KRIOS: Impressive, Commander.

12:11– SPEC. GRUNT: please teach me battlemaster

12:12– LC. SHEPARD: gladly. just suck on the tip until it’s pointy then ram it in the jugular. should work for humans, turians, drell, quarians, batarians, hanar (probably?) and vorcha. it’s messy as hell but satisfying.

12:12- XO. LAWSON: That’s it. You’ve all lost your candy cane privileges.

12:12– DR. SOLUS: Wise decision. Shepard and Grunt safety hazards.

12:12- CHF. ZORAH: seriously??? You can’t punish all of us for shepard’s bloodlust

12:12- SPEC. GOTO: so let me get this straight, miri. you trust us with your life in a firefight, but not with candy canes during a Christmas party?

12:13- XO. LAWSON: a HOLIDAY party. and yes, that is correct.

12:13- LC. SHEPARD: i mean… it sorta seems fair. i trust vakarian on my six with an SR… but with a taser? absolutely not.

12:13- GO. VAKARIAN: i think LCs been shot in the head one too many times

12:13- LC. SHEPARD: not the point, numb nuts

12:13- SPEC. SAMARA: If Commander Shepard can safely operate a live firearm, she should be able to responsibly handle a sharp sucrose stick.

12:13- SPEC. GOTO: you’d think

12:13- LC. SHEPARD: i don’t know if i can. i just get this overwhelming urge to stab.

12:13- DR. CHAKWAS: Pushing your psych eval forward, LC.

12:13- GO. VAKARIAN: called it!

12:14- SPEC. MASSANI: so this party… do we get turkey dinner if we show?

12:14- SPEC. JACK: what the fuck is a turkey

12:14- XO. LAWSON: Dinner will be at 18:00, given Gardner has finished up. No turkey, just rations.

12:14- GO. VAKARIAN: Why the hell does Gardner look like that? [image.attachment_sergeant_santa_clause]

12:14- LC. SHEPARD: huh. looks like he was born for the role.

12:14- CHF. ZORAH: this seems… offensive. why did he stuff his pants and belly?

12:15- FLT. MOREAU: compensation, zorah

12:15- CHF. ZORAH: ohhhh

12:15– FLT. MOREAU: it’s not a real holiday party without booze @XO

12:15- XO. LAWSON: the LAST thing this crew needs is alcohol

12:15- LC. SHEPARD: [image.attachment_secret_candy_canes] jokes on you @XO i bought myself some on the citadel. knew you’d pull this crap.

12:15- XO. LAWSON: fine

12:15- LC. SHEPARD: this too [image.attachment_4.5L_bottle_vodka]

12:15- XO. LAWSON: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

#sr2 info board #mass effect #HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!!#me2 #shepard

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