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#side not anyone know if a sequel will be in the works?
Man Tumblr loves Bug Fables a lot more that I expected
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punkshort · 1 month
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i know who you are | 9. the end
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.
Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?
WC: 9.1K
Series Masterlist
A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.
Two Weeks Later
"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."
"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.
"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.
"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"
Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.
"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."
The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.
"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.
"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.
"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"
"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.
"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."
"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.
"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."
"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"
You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.
Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.
"Can I go with you?"
Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."
Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"
He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."
You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.
"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.
"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.
"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"
He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.
"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."
You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."
Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."
You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."
"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.
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You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.
"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."
With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.
He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.
You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.
Maybe you planned it that way.
"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.
"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.
"Promise."
It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.
"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.
"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."
Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.
"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."
Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.
"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"
"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."
Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.
"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.
As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.
"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"
Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.
"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.
The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.
As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.
"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."
Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."
Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.
They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.
He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.
Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.
The perfect hiding spot.
He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.
Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.
He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.
When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.
He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.
The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.
"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."
It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.
They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.
"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.
"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.
"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."
Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.
"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.
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To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.
"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.
"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.
"Are you hungry?"
"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.
"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.
"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."
"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"
"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."
You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?
Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.
You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.
Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.
When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.
You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"
"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."
You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.
"I missed you, too."
You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.
"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.
"I've got no fuckin' idea."
In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.
"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.
"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"
"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.
"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.
"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.
"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"
Joel nodded. "Yeah."
"Do you remember what you said?"
He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.
"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."
You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."
His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.
"I love you, Joel."
His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.
"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."
Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.
For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.
His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.
When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.
When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.
It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.
"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.
When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.
But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.
"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."
You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."
He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.
You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.
He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.
"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.
"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.
"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?
"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.
Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.
It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.
When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.
You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.
It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.
"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.
"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."
You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.
"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.
You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.
"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.
"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."
Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.
"Leave it on."
Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.
It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.
You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.
"You okay?"
You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.
"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.
His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."
"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."
He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.
How's that feel?
Do that again.
Tell me you love me.
I love you.
Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.
His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.
"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.
"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"
"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.
Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.
You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.
After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.
The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.
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The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.
You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.
"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."
He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.
"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."
He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"
You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"
He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.
"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."
"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.
You chuckled when you thought about it.
"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."
"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.
"What do you mean?"
"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"
"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.
"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.
"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"
"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Yes! How did-"
"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.
"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.
"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"
"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"
"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"
"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."
He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.
"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.
"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"
"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"
All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.
"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.
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Three Months Later
"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."
You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.
"Maybe I'm a natural, then."
Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.
You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.
"Have any dreams lately?"
You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."
When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.
After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.
And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.
You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.
"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.
You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."
He grinned and holstered his revolver.
"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.
"Don't start."
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."
"I ain't flirtin' with you."
"Yes, you are!"
He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."
"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.
"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."
"Okay."
You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.
"You wanna give it a shot?"
"Pun intended?"
He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.
"Like this?"
"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."
Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.
"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.
"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."
You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.
"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.
"Here. Lemme help you."
He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.
"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."
"Her?" you teased.
He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."
"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"
"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."
"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."
"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.
Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.
"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."
You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.
For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.
"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.
"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.
You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.
When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.
"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."
His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."
You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"
He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."
You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?
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royalsweetteaa · 2 months
Text
Title: Thinking about us all
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)
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18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
WARNING - The following story contains: Explicit smut, MMF threesome, petnames (doll, sweetheart), dom/sub/switch roles, establishing polyamory, stucky, bisexual!Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes, oral sex (M/F receiving), cum eating, anal sex, rimjob (M receiving), unprotected sex, P in V/P in A sex, creampie, spitroast, love confessions, fluff, aftercare.
Sequel to: ‘Thinking about her’
Summary: Steve and Bucky finally confess their feelings to their female secretary, and luckily everything goes in their favor.
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2nd person POV
It was another day at the Avengers Tower, and you were as per usual at your office handling the two super soldiers’ routine work such as letters and other paper work. Steve and Bucky had appointed a time in the afternoon to have a meeting with you.
While it was just a regular meeting of the week going over important future events they have to be prepared for, you always looked forward to those meetings.
You couldn’t help but thrive in the feelings the two men gave you as you sat alone all three, occasionally talking about personal things like the friends you had grown to be. It felt good, and you thought it was harmless to have a crush on them.
Okay, ‘crush’ could be an understatement, but it was still harmless if you kept it to yourself, right?
It wasn’t like you had expectations of them returning those feelings to you. You could tell what they had lied so deep, there was no way they would leave it for anyone else.
And you were completely fine with that. Seeing the two together made you believe soulmates for life was a real thing, and you looked forward to the day you would find your own.
But until then…
You kicked your feet giddily as you were waiting for the two men to arrive in the empty meeting room. A stack of files were in front of you and you kept a mantra in your head of all the topics you had to inform them about.
They finally came by the door minutes later, apologizing for their slight delay as they sat on each side, putting you in the middle.
You felt butterflies swirl in your stomach as they smiled at you ever so kindly, making small talk of asking how your day was and if you’ve eaten or drank enough water.
You respond saying you’re feeling just fine as you bring forward the folders, a copy for each to look at before you begin going through them.
It was much of the same schedule the super soldiers had followed for months, most importantly noted being that there was an international conference hosted by T’challa on Friday for them to attend to and a gathered Avengers meeting on the weekend.
As you rounded up the report of their upcoming schedule, you looked up at them, expecting that to be the end of the meeting as they thanked you for the report. But as you were about to stand up and conclude the meeting, they stopped you from rising up from your seat.
Bucky and Steve exchange each other confirming glances before they faced you again.
“Y/N, Bucky and I have something important we’d like to share with you…if you aren’t otherwise in a hurry to get home for the evening.” Steve begins.
You stared at him, your heart noticeably skipping a beat from the super soldiers’ ears as you say, “I’m not in a hurry…what’s up, boys?”
“We uh…”
“Well, you see…um…”
The men turn to each other again as if they are now realizing how difficult it is to lay out their confession of love to you compared to how they had imagined it in their heads. You all the meanwhile stared at them dumbfounded, not sure what was going on between them.
“…Is everything okay?” You ask with a hint of worry in your voice. “Has something happened that I should know about?”
“No, - I mean yes, everything is fine, it’s just…” Steve says. “We are a bit nervous to tell you, because…”
“…as it turns out…” Bucky slowly fills in.
“…we have feelings for you, Y/N. Both of us.”
“….Oh…wait, what?” You ask as you pull a double take when you let their words sink in. “How? - But -…aren’t you two together?” You ask the question with a confused frown. “I thought you had each other?”
“Well yes - of course we still love each other but, - we have kind of mutually developed feelings for you. And we aren’t just interested in you for ‘curious’ reasons - we genuinely like you, more like you’ve captivated us beyond just liking you, you know?”
Steve clears his throat as he speaks over Bucky, “What Bucky is trying to say is we both absolutely adore you, - how sweet and caring you are towards us in what feels like is something beyond just your job as a secretary and friend. It has come to us realizing we have more love to share, and we would like to share it with you. But we would also like to take you out on dates first as the three of us to explore our dynamic…with a romantic viewpoint.”
“That is…if you feel the same.” Bucky quickly adds. “Do you?”
You’re left in awe after everything they have told you, and you close your mouth as you try to gather your thoughts. “Wow, I…I’m in shock honestly. I didn’t expect this at all…” you say, causing Steve and Bucky to stiffen as fear starts to settle in on a possible rejection.
Had they read you wrong? Had they misunderstood your physical reactions for something else?
Steve shakes off the worries as he fills the paused silence with a thoughtful reminder, “You can think about it for as long as you’d like. We understand this might be all too overwhelming for you, so if you’d like for us to give you some space while you consider -!”
You shake your head as you dismiss Steve, “Wait, no…I…- truth is, I’ve had a huge crush on both of you for a while. But I never spoke or tried to make a move on any of you because I respect your relationship, and I would never, and I mean never try to ruin what you have. What you have is beautiful and I…” you sigh as your eyes get glossy. “I can’t believe you’re both interested in bringing someone like me into it. Like, do you truly mean that? Because I swear if you’re pulling a prank on me, I’m quitting today -!”
“We’re not!…we promise you that.” Bucky chuckles at your doubts, but also pulls a face of fondness. “And why would you think ‘someone like you’ wouldn’t be perfect for us? Sure, we are the super soldiers here but there’s only one of you in the entire world.”
“We have lived for a very long time and met all kinds of people. We know what we want.” Steve says. “We want you, as much as we want to be yours.”
“So what do you say?” Bucky asks as he gets closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours at the table. “Can you at least give it a chance?”
You bite the inside of your cheek as you know already the answer to that, but still you take a moment to give it to them. “I…yes. I absolutely want to give it a chance.” You answer with a bright smile, and you witness as they pull gleeful smiles of their own.
The two men pull you into an embrace, surrounding you with excitement. You chuckle as you welcome them, pulling them closer with your own arms.
“But, that doesn’t mean I’m jumping into bed with any of you on the first week.” You clarify in a playful manner. “I’m not that kind of girl, you know.”
Both men hum as Steve comments, “Of course, we don’t expect any less, doll. I don’t know about Buck but I can wait for as long as you want before doing any of that if it means you’ll be ours.”
Bucky bumps into Steve’s shoulder, huffing, “I can wait too just fine!”
Steve narrows an eyebrow and teasingly replies, “oh really? I seem to remember back on you being particularly needy one night and expressing how -!”
Bucky shoves his palm over Steve’s mouth, making him unable to finish his sentence. “Okay, that’s enough oversharing, Steve…”
Giggles erupt from you and the two men turn to you, smiling somewhat confused.
You shook your head, “Don’t you worry James, I’m not going to lead you on. Just work for it and you might get some of me soon enough. That includes you too, Steve.”
Both men nodded, saying in unison “Yes, ma’am” before they wrapped an arm around each of her side and left to the parking lot to drive off for some more spend together.
The next few weeks consisted of dates in romantic locations and dinners at each other’s places.
As true to the men’s word, they never pressured you into anything, - so much so that you had to engage in your first kisses with them. Kissing would develop into sweet long-drawn kisses, then eventually into full make out sessions.
While they were heated and breathless by the end of it, nothing went beyond of what you wanted and you continued your conversations like it was nothing, - except the noticeable big bulges between their legs said otherwise when they so easily dismissed it.
One night during the usual ‘at home’ dinner though, you felt you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer either from what you desired, and one thing led to another involving the new founded throuple relationship.
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You were on your knees, bare as the two men had gloried over your body earlier, seeing you bare for the first time. You had to stop them from taking it further as you were eager to please them first and have them reveal their naked selves too.
Before you knew it, they had unbuckled their belts and zipped down their trousers, revealing their huge semi hard cocks, twitching out of their restraints.
You took notice of how Bucky’s cock is thicker while Steve’s is longer, and even then your small hands struggle to fully wrap around both. You swallow as you ogle their lengths, licking your lips at the sight of them leaking pre-cum already. The men chuckled lowly, gesturing you to touch them any way you wanted to.
“Get closer to each other. My hands are too small to pleasure you both properly at the same time…” you pointed out with an undertone of nervousness.
Steve and Bucky could tell you were a bit anxious with the pressure on you as you were giving them pleasure by your own, so they encouraged you with tender strokes on your shoulder.
“You’re doing such a good job honey, don’t worry your pretty head…” Steve reassured.
“But don’t mind if we do get a little close...” Bucky added smugly as he got closely to Steve, letting you guide his cock to rub against Steve’s as you stroked them both in the same pace. You licked and sucked their cocks, taking turns as you swirled your tongue to have a taste of their pre-cum.
They grunted and held a hand on each side of your shoulder, encouraging you to keep going.
“Fuck, look at her…she’s more amazing than I imagined her to be..”
“Mmm, she’s perfect. You’re perfect, doll.” Steve redirected to you.
You looked up at them with doe eyes as you sucked their tips together, and the men thought they were loosing it at that moment.
“Oh fuck….Bucky…” Steve called after his lovers’ name to catch his attention before leaning in to kiss him, moans and whimpers leaving their mouths as you kept pleasuring them where it mattered.
You hummed around their cocks as you were sending down vibrations to their shaft, making them receive a shockwave of pleasure.
“Fuck! M’gonna cum, Y/N…milk us…take our cum…shit!” Bucky cursed as he felt his balls tightening. Steve followed suit too, releasing himself into your mouth.
“Fucking hell…” Steve groaned at the sight of you trying to swallow their loads, but ultimately spilling some down your chin.
“Language…” Bucky joked through a murmur, making Steve roll his eyes with a smile.
With the use of his thumb, Steve gathered what had spilled up from your chin to between your lips, having you suck his fingers clean lewdly.
Steve purred in delight, “What a good girl you are…taking us both like a champ.”
“Now you’re about to receive twice the reward, sweetheart…you sure you’re ready for it?”
You nodded eagerly, “oh fuck yes, don’t hold back on my account…”
The men smirked, knowing she was in for it all.
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“Holy shit!”
Bucky had a wicked grin as his tongue glided along your folds, not holding back with the way his tongue explored you as per your request.
Steve cooed, “Look at her cute little button…so puffy and sensitive, isn’t it?” He kept rubbing your clit with his thumb, making your whole body twitch in pleasure. Bucky hummed against you in response just then, not leaving his lips from your quivering heat.
He managed to mutter something in the lines of ‘tastes so good, doll’ while his tongue found the source of your wetness, lapping up every drop of pussy juice that threatened to leave for the mattress beneath you.
“I can’t - I don’t wanna cum before I have a dick inside of me..” you whined, and the men stopped as they grinned, looking at each other.
“Who’s dick do you want in you first, doll?” Steve then asked teasingly while stroking your cheek.
“…I don’t know…” you answered, suddenly pondering. “Do I really have to choose?…”
“Well you can’t have us both at the same time…you’re not ready for that.” Steve spoke, humored.
Bucky held his gaze at Steve, “I think…it’s best if you take her first, Stevie. You have better control than I do and I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood or hurt you, Y/N.” He then turns to look at you for a brief moment.
Your face falls at Bucky’s words and you’re about to open your mouth to speak but Steve beats you to it. “You couldn’t hurt her, Buck…but if you feel doubtful of yourself, I’ll take it into my own hands for now until you feel more sure. Does that sound good, doll?” Steve asks as he looks at you too.
You nod, agreeing to the solution as Bucky encourages it with a soft expression. “Sounds good.”
Steve sucks in his breath as he pushes his tip through your folds, holding your hips graciously with you on your back. “Gonna give it to you long and hard…you’ll never want for anything other than us, doll.”
A whimper escaped your lips as Steve impales you. “S-So big…you might split me in half..”
He chuckled at the underlying compliment and strokes your cheek gently. “I won’t move until you say so, love…take your time in getting used to my size, okay?” He says and strokes your clit gently.
You groan and nod in response, “mhm, just give me a minute…”
“We’ve got all the time in the world…” Bucky reassures as he gets behind Steve and caresses his body.
You groan at the sight, “Apart from the love between you two which I adore, - you look so hot together.”
“Yeah? You have always enjoyed watching us being intimate haven’t you?” Steve teased as he leans back a little more against Bucky. “Since the very beginning, we could smell it on you…”
Your face turned red as you realized, shit, of course they could tell when you were aroused. They are enhanced in everything to smell such things…
Bucky interrupted your overthinking with his chuckle, “don’t let it embarrass you, doll…your bodily reactions only ensured you felt the same…thanks to your honest body, we’re here together at all.”
“Now, while we wait for you to get ready, how about we give you a show?” Steve suggested with a seductive grin. You nodded feverishly as Steve turned his head behind to give Bucky a loving kiss, with Bucky’s hands wandering around Steve’s pecs and stomach. Steve then sneaked his hand below and stroke Bucky’s cock as Bucky stared down at you, mesmerized.
“Fuuck, seeing you buried inside Y/N makes me so fuckin’ horny…” at Bucky’s confession, you blush profusely.
“Yeah? Well, if you’re so needy and desperate, you know what you could do about it.”
Bucky’s eyes wandered down to Steve’s ass. “Oh, don’t I know it…” He reached for the lube on the nightstand and inserted some into Steve’s puckered hole with his metal finger, making Steve grunt with arousal. Bucky positioned himself, towering over Steve’s back.
“Just shove yourself in already…you know I can take-!” Steve’s sentence is cut out from a sharp hiss as Bucky slides home.
You witness before your very eyes as Steve closes his eyes tightly, a high pitched moan getting choked as he grits his teeth. His long drawn ‘fuuuuck~’ is the confirming evidence you gather that he’s feeling absolutely amazing.
You can’t help yourself and cover your mouth to hide how turned on you are by this very scenery. Your attempts are due to fail as you feel your core growing wetter and tighter. “…I’m…”
“Fuck, you’re hugging my cock even tighter than before…” Steve purred as he glanced at you through his lashes. “Mmh, does it turn you on to see me between you like this? - Shit…” Steve cursed as Bucky got himself fully seethed inside of him. Steve’s once self assured look was growing twitchy and fading into one of a bottom.
Steve’s cock pulsed inside of you, making you mewl, “Y-Yes! It’s so hot and - god, I need you to start moving, Steve. I’m so ready to be fucked…”
“You hear that? Our girl wants to have her sweet pussy fucked…let’s fulfill her needs, shall we?” Steve nodded and Bucky started to move, causing Steve’s hips to move with him, creating a thrust.
You bit back a loud moan, your breath growing shallow as Steve’s length drags through your tight channel.
Bucky smirked as he looked over Steve’s shoulder, his eyebrows knitted in pleasure, “damn, Stevie…look at what you’re doing to her…”
Steve moaned as he didn’t take his eyes off of you, seeing the way your face scrunches in pleasure for each thrust. “…don’t hold back any noises, love. We want to hear all of it…”
You nod and let a whimper escape you. Bucky starts to move faster just then, encouraging Steve to go along the rhythm as they stay connected. While Bucky leaves rough grunting noises, Steve and you left ones of whines and moans of various pitches.
The pleasure of being deep inside of you while having his prostate hit was overwhelming for Steve, “oh my…” is all he can mutter out as moans take over his speech.
“Steve…aahh!~” you moan as you feel Steve’s cock nudging against the deepest parts inside of you, and you become flushed from overwhelming amount of pleasure.
“Please, cum inside, Steve…I’m on the pill, it’s fine…mmmh~ need it…”
“A-Alright whatever you want, doll…- fuuuck!” Steve aches his back behind as he becomes overdriven, feeling his male lover’s cock continuously hitting his prostate which makes him all the more weak.
Bucky can only snicker from pride as he picks up the pace. “Found your sweet spot, huh? I always do…”
Steve could only groan in response as the sex gets more intense. He feels an overwhelming pleasure being between his two lovers, one piercing inside of him while he’s deep inside the other.
It feels absolutely ecstatic.
“Gonna dump my cum inside you any moment, Stevie…” Bucky suddenly announces while he grunts and pounds relentlessly into Steve’s ass until he reaches his climax through a loud gasp.
You gasp, “Oh shit, I’m going to…”
Steve whines just then, feeling you become close too as he shouts, “C-cumming!..” while biting his lip.
Steve spills deeply into you, coating your walls in hot sticky cum while Bucky does the same inside of him. It’s all too much for the three of you as you go through your highs, remaining still as you catch your breaths from your first round of mutual orgasms.
Bucky pulled out of Steve, making him whimper as his cock slips out of your oozing pussy, exposing what he had left behind. Bucky leaned in to kiss Steve’s shoulder, watching down on you at your post orgasmic expression. He chuckled when he caught your playful smirk, and he pulls up Steve with him to sit up before parting Steve’s legs a little.
“Look at that…” Bucky pointed out as he spread Steve’s ass cheeks, showing the sticky mess he had left behind. Bucky took notice of the way you licked your lips at the sight, and immediately suggested in his husky voice, “Would you like to clean him up? I’ll clean Stevie’s mess on you in the meantime…”
Steve turned around as he understood what Bucky was proposing and blushed, “You don’t need to do that, doll…it’s probably new to you and -!”
You shake your head, "No, I want to do it. Bring America’s ass over to me.” you interrupted, determination showing through your features as your lips form a smirk.
Steve blushes even more furiously at your confidence, not expecting to hear that at all. “Oh…well, since you’re offering and only if you want to…”
Bucky snorts as he nudges at Steve with his shoulder, “You’re catching Stevie off guard and it’s making him all flustered…been a while since I’ve seen him this red.” He comments, snickering as he pulls your lower body over to him and licks up Steve’s and yours mess between your legs, making you groan.
Steve simply huffs, and Bucky adds an order, “Get in front of her face, Steve. Our naughty girl said she wants a taste, so let her have it…” while he spread your thighs wide apart, his mouth eagerly meeting your pussy again and sucking out the cum dripping out of your cunt.
You moan from the pleasure Bucky provides you, but you stay composed to take care of the other big man beside you.
Steve helps you gain easy access as he spreads his ass cheeks apart, anticipation written all over his face as you inch closer to his hole, your nose nudging against his balls in the process while your tongue makes its way. He groans when he feels you licking around his rim where Bucky’s cum is dripping out, and he shivers when you hum against his sensitive skin from savoring the taste.
“Ahh…that’s it…” Steve speaks through a low rumble and he spreads his legs wider as you get closer to him. “Oohh, I’m so in love with you…”
You snicker as you tease him with your tongue techniques, but as you feel Bucky forcing his own wet muscle inside of you, you begin to crumble yourself. “J-James…”
Bucky coos at your whine, assuming you’re feeling overwhelmed. “It’s okay, sweetheart…m’just cleaning your insides, that’s all…won’t leave ya overstimulated…”
“N-No, that’s not it…” you whine once more while shaking your head, “I want you inside of me.”
Bucky’s eyes widen as he feels his cock harden by this very plead, but he still restrains himself, “Are you sure? Doll, you just had Steve and he’s no bigger than me…besides, I’m not sure I’d be able to hold back…”
“I don’t care.” You say, biting your lip at how needy you make yourself sound, but you’re desperate. “I need your cock…please, I need you to fuck me before we call it a night.”
Bucky glances at Steve who has a growing smirk on his face, “I think you should give our doll what she wants, Buck. You don’t want to deny her when she’s begging so nicely, do you?”
Bucky hums in thought before he shakes his head, “no…I don’t.” He rises up above you as he strokes his shaft, his cock pulsing with anticipation. “Turn around, sweetheart. I’m taking you doggy style.”
You grin seductively and do as he says, raising your ass up. A moan leaves your lips as you feel Bucky’s cool metal arm wrap around you while he uses his other hand to guide his cock to your heat.
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, doll…I’m going to savor every moment of taking this cunt…”
You mewl as Bucky takes a hold of your hips almost possessively while he guides for your bodies to meet. His tip intrudes against your entrance as he pushes forward, and before you know it, his whole length seeps in, making you cry out in pleasure.
Steve kneels in front of you as he takes in Bucky picking up a rhythm, his thrusts quickly going from gentle to desperate. He then turns his gaze at you and notices you’re looking up at him directly, as if you’re pleading for something. Steve caresses your chin with a smirk growing on his face, and he gives you what you want as he inches himself closer, his cock stiffening again when your lips meets it.
The room becomes filled with filthy moans, grunts and curses for the next moments as they engage in the spitroast.
“O-One thing for sure…I’m never gonna be needing that pussy pocket ever again.” Bucky breaks the silence from behind you as he stutters his hips desperately into you. You moan as it dawns over you what he was implying. They had fantasized about you before.
“Yeah, we won’t have to…you’re such a good girl for taking care of us…so, so proud of you…” Steve murmurs his praises as he takes in the sight of you sucking his balls before licking your way up to his tip again where you continue sucking him off.
Bucky clenches his teeth as he realizes he’s far too gone to hold it any longer, and he announces through a weakened whisper, “I’m about to bust…”
“Right behind you…want to be fed with my cum, doll?” Steve asks, his breath now shortening.
Your head bobs, giving an eager ‘yes’ as you swallow him inside your mouth some more. Steve guides you to take more of his cock down your throat, his hips bucking forward with neediness while he reaches his own climax.
Bucky fills you to the brim with a final thrust, emptying himself as he throws his head back. “Ah fuck!!” The senation Bucky provides makes your orgasm crash over you, having you quivering underneath him.
You roll your eyes to the back of your head as Steve’s cum spurts down your throat, what feels like buckets. You pull your mouth off of him and gasp for air as you swipe your tongue around your lips, gathering any drop that managed to escape. Steve leans down onto the bed to cool down, his cock finally softening after what felt like hours of sex.
Bucky brings you carefully with him to lie down too, his cock slipping out of your pussy as he softens, allowing his cum to escape and drip down between your legs.
As you catch your breath, you can’t help but laugh a little, making the super soldiers perk down at you curiously.
“You guys cum a lot…and it’s what, your third orgasm? How is that even possible? Never met guys who can do that.” You share as you chuckle, amused.
“We’re enhanced, sweetheart…we’re supposed to be above average in several aspects. That includes going for several rounds without tapping out.” Steve explains as he sends a wink your way.
You giggle at that while they bring you closer between them, nuzzling against you as you go into a session of aftercare.
“This has to be the best sex I’ve had in a long time…” you sigh with satisfaction, “I don’t think I could ever get enough of this…” the men simply hum, agreeing with your thought.
“Trust me, there’ll be more of where that came from….plenty of it, every day if it’s what you desire.” Bucky speaks in a teasing tone as he steals a kiss from you, holding his gaze at you ever so lovingly.
Steve hums in agreement as he adds, “or, even if you would only want it once in a while, we will to our best abilities make you crave more and more each time we do it…” he leans in to take a passionate kiss from you too, not being able to help himself from joining the soft intimacy.
You express fondness by your smile alone as you look in between them, and when Bucky and Steve reach for each other above you for a final sweet kiss, you’re settled in for a good night sleep, the three of you feeling so closely connected like never before.
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N/A: This turned out incredibly filthy…so I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 🤭
Hearts + Reblogs are incredibly appreciated! <3
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kitten4sannie · 4 months
Text
ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟᴇʀ
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ꜱᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ/ʙᴜᴋᴀᴋᴋᴇ ➠ ᴍɪɴꜱᴀɴʏᴜɴʜᴡᴀ
pairing: half orc! mingi x elf! reader (fem) x barbarian! san x goliath! yunho x tiefling! seonghwa
genre: fantasy au/dnd vibe, humor, gratuitous smut
summary: you go on a quest with a group of brutish, questionable individuals. anything for some gold and riches, right? 
w.c: 6.5k ish…..yeahhhh
the world’s longest list of warnings:  alcohol mention/usage, soft/hard! dom party members, brat in the streets baby in the sheets sub! reader, these mfs have a hard-on for social hierarchies esp mingi (he’s a big pervert too hehe), mxm (real homies jerk each other off), monster fucking (mimic box…listen i saw it in a porn one time and its been my dream to recreate it since okay sue meee take me to court!!), five?? some?? idk they made it work somehow, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, pet names, olfactophilia, aphrodisiacs, teasing, vast size differences, size kink, strength kink, manhandling, oral (receiving), overstim, tit play, bulge kink, handjob, blowjob, titjob, all the jobs actually, double penetration made possible with magic incantations <3, creampies, back shots, and facials for everyoneeee !! one for you!! and for youuu~~ also the word cock is mentioned at least 50 times in this one sorry bout that hshjs
a/n: hi ahhhh so this chaotic jumble of insanity is my baby 🥹 and it’s also my very first filth fest fic of the month !!! so yk what that means ;3 go on and strap in for me okay? it’s about to go down frfr <3 this is a sort of sequel to my half orc mingi fic but it can be read on its own! also i’ve never actually played dnd,, i’ve just heard about it from my brother so don’t expect an extremely accurate representation;;; i did do quite a bit of research tho <33 but yeah that being said…. rip reader’s elussy </3
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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“Ladies and gents, now this is a quest that’s not for the faint of heart,” your local guild master announced, leaning his heavy forearms on the crowded bar table below him, stroking his long, bushy beard absentmindedly, the wood furnishing of the bar creaking underneath his weight. 
The lively room grew a bit more quiet, some individuals quirking their heads in the seasoned barbarian’s direction, yours included. “With a hefty 1000 gold pieces as your reward, this quest requires you to find and locate the rare lujuria plant, then bring its seeds back to me. Unfortunately for you lot, they’re only found in the abandoned dungeons near Mist Falls. Any takers?” 
At the mention of the plant and location, most of the interested individuals turned back to their ale and friends, resuming their loud, enthusiastic conversations. You, however, couldn’t believe how idiotic the other patrons were. You could do quite a lot with 1000 gold pieces, and being a solo adventurer, you wouldn’t even have to share it with anyone. With dollar signs in your eyes and a spring in your step, you headed up to the busy bar, having to get on your tippy toes and wave your hand around past some of the larger patron’s broad shoulders until the guild master noticed your presence. 
“Now, don’t tell me a dainty little high elf is interested in the quest I just announced. You gonna scare them off with your shiny hair and sparkly crystals?” the older man gruffed, letting out a hefty laugh, before taking a couple gulps from the oversized mug he held within his large, calloused hands.
When you simply stood there with your hands crossed over your lace-covered chest, the guild master set his mug down, his bushy eyebrows raising upwards. “Oh, you’re serious.” He leaned down to your level, cupping his hand around one side of his face, allowing you to smell the ale on his breath. “Do you know why no one likes to go to Mist Falls, little Miss?”
You shook your head, causing the small jewels that dangled from your silky hair to sway a bit. You cupped a hand around your own face, murmuring, “Why does no one like it, Mister?”
“There’s some strange wildlife that frequent the land there. Otherworldly things…things that an elf like you wouldn’t want to get wrapped up in,” he explained carefully, looking over the lens of his glasses to squint at you. “Unless, you’re into that sort of thing, of course.” 
Not understanding what he meant by his vague statement, you shrugged it off, taking his underestimation of your abilities as a challenge you couldn’t bear backing down from. “I’ll take the quest, Mister, and I’ll bring you those seeds.” 
The guild master smiled down at you, chuckling a bit, like you weren’t in on the joke that he was so amused by. “Very well, little Miss.” He handed you the rolled-up scroll, his lips still curled into a suspicious smile. “Good luck with your quest.” 
Taking the scroll, you nodded your head at him, a smug smile painting your own face, as you turned on your heels to leave, reveling in the fact that your levels of commitment and intelligence were clearly in the upper echelons compared to the rest of the idiots that frequented the crowded guild.  
Before you could leave without any issues, a deeply familiar, incredibly cocky-sounding baritone voice interrupted your mental victory dance. “Would you look at that. Gonna handle a dungeon all on your own, eh, princess?” 
You quickly turned your head, your eyes landing on the tall, solid beast of a half-man, half-orc standing with one hand resting on his leather-bound hip, his golden eyes slowly studying your body with an almost nauseating amount of interest. “Mingi…” you sighed, the events of your last few meetings flashing through your brain, the tips of your ears turning a faint red. “Oh, you think I can’t handle a stupid quest on my own either, huh?” 
He shook his head, his shaggy silver hair falling in his eyes, forcing him to swipe it out of the way with his large ringed fingers. “Nope.” His simple response encouraged his equally large, equally intimidating party members, who were hanging out near him, to laugh and chatter amongst themselves. 
Now your hands were on your hips, getting hit by a wave of annoyance, your cheeks burning.  “Watch me.” 
Mingi took a step towards you, just to show you and anyone nearby just how much he towered over you, his lips quirking up into a shit-eating grin, still peering down at your body like he could already picture what you looked like without the form-fitting lace dress that was wrapped around your curvy body like a pretty present, one that he wanted to open as soon as possible.
“With a petite little body like yours?” He reached down to slip a finger into your hair, playing with one of the crystals that adorned it. “Yeah, so small and delicate, like a pretty little fairy, ain’t ya? Those monsters in that dungeon will swallow you whole.”
You might’ve hated Mingi to an extent, but he was good. Good at making you feel tiny and desirable, and so wet, you were afraid he’d be able to smell it from where he was standing. You closed your thighs together slightly, lowering your closed fists to your sides, leaning forward. “I-i’m not a fairy, you dumb orc! I'm an elf! And I don’t need your help!” Just as you turned around to leave, Mingi cleared his throat, making you turn your head back to glare at him. 
He placed his other hand on his hip, letting his weight shift to the opposite side, his head tilting the other way. “Sweetheart, listen, I know you’re very capable of getting what you want,” he mused, chuckling softly at the way your face scrunched up slightly in embarrassment. “But, I’m sure you could use some extra party members to back you up. Me and the boys want to help you. Won’t you let us?”
You gazed at Mingi a little while longer, before your eyes shifted to his friends, first drawn to the most elegant-looking tiefling you’ve ever seen. He had sleek skin that looked like expensive marble, his hair as white as the frost that would cover all the lands during the winter months, his heavy horns ridged and curled into an ‘s’ shape, and black as soot, his thin, pointed tail quietly slithering around in a snake-like motion behind the long black cloak that hung from his pointed shoulders. 
“That’s Seonghwa,” Mingi informed, with his arms folded across his wide tattooed chest. “Doesn’t talk much, unless it’s to cast a spell or call me stupid.” 
Seonghwa’s pretty lips formed a smirk, wrapping his arms comfortably around his slim, corseted waist, his sharp, milky eyes focused intensely on you, like he was peering through you and straight into your soul. 
“Oh, are we introducing ourselves?” someone said excitedly, your eyes following the voice upwards until they landed on the handsome face of the gentle-looking goliath standing besides the tiefling. At roughly seven feet tall, the broad man sported shiny, golden locks, pretty brown eyes, and a tribal tattoo that was plastered on his veiny neck, clad only in a thick pelt that sat comfortably around his solid waist, wearing matching furry cuffs on his thick forearms. “I’m Yunho! I like to get drunk and smash stuff. What do you like to do, elf girl?” The goliath stepped forward to shake your hand, his hand completely encompassing yours, your neck almost hurting from having to look up at him. 
“Hi, Yunho,” you replied, smiling softly, feeling a bit dizzy from your vast difference in sizes. Everything about him was just so big, you couldn't help but wonder what else was too. “I’m Y/N. I like to go on quests and collect gold.” 
“Don’t tell me we’re actually going to help a high elf,” the last party member interrupted in a low voice, sneering, showing off his large, rounded canines when you looked past Yunho to scoff at him. “And an annoying one, at that. I don’t care if she’s fuckable. This is still a waste of time.”
Yunho put a large, warm hand on your shoulder, covering it completely. “Don’t take San’s words seriously, sweet. He bullies people when he likes them.” 
The brooding barbarian folded his arms over the thick, furry pelt that covered his broad upper half, rolling his eyes, a few strands of his wild raven hair falling past his forehead. “Or maybe I just don’t like stuck-up little elven brats, ever think of that, Yunho?” His pronounced eyebrows joined together in a bout of sudden fury. “Huh? Can you even hear me up there, you oversized son of a bitch?”
A faint blush appeared on Yunho’s cheeks, smiling in San’s direction, before looking back down at you. “See? He loves me.” 
You returned his smile with a grimace. “He loves being a dickhead too, apparently.”
“Excuse me?!” San growled, about to walk up to the both of you to prove that he only loved moonshine, his trusty club, and himself. 
Mingi stepped in front of San, waving his hands around exasperatedly, wishing someone presented a dialogue skip option a long time ago, bored of the introductions. “Alright, alright, so are you coming with us, or not, princess? What’s the verdict?”
You rolled your eyes, opening the large entrance door of the guild, eventually letting out a long sigh, glancing back over your shoulder with a pout. You knew you had a slim chance of surviving without them, but you still had your pride. You let out a small hmph, annoyed when they still all just stood there waiting, encouraging you to stomp your silk shoe down on the ground, grumbling, “Ugh, are you coming, or what?”
Mingi and his friends chuckled amongst themselves and elbowed each other, amused by the amount of fiery zealousness your tiny body possessed, finishing their mugs of ale, eventually following you out of the guild and onto the dirt road. 
“Hurry up! I wanna explore this dungeon today, not during the next winter solstice!” you called out to them, already at the forest entrance, tossing your head back in an exaggeratedly annoyed fashion.
The half-orc waved his hand around nonchalantly, despite his large lower canines growing more and more visible the more he began to smile, pulling out a small pair of lace panties that had a familiar design etched into them. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your little elf panties in a twist,” he chuckled, bringing them up to his face to take a sniff.
Your inquisitive expression melted down into one of horror, then scrunched again, this time pleading him with his eyes. “Mingi…don’t tell me you’ve kept those all this time.”
“Of course I have, princess. In fact, I jerk off with them every chance I can in your honor. I can cum real hard just from knowing I turned a high elf onto orc cock forever. I still remember like it was yesterday,” he sighed dreamily, wiping away a fake tear, like had just said the most romantic sentence even known to orckind.
“I still fuck elves, you twat! I don’t need you or your stupid orc cock!” you argued, turning away so that none of them could see how flushed you had gotten, heading into the forest by yourself.
“That’s a damn lie. You showed up to my hut like three times during the Great Hunt not too long ago,” Mingi explained, following after you, his friends following beside him. “Don’t you remember? I had to carry you home after you passed out from squirting too hard.”
“No!” you shouted from ahead of him, swearing you were going to melt into the floor.
“She’s got elven pride, that one,” Mingi sighed, admiring you from behind. “Anyway, I got her soaked panties to prove it. You want to see them, don’t ya, Hwa?” Mingi elbowed Seonghwa, who just shook his head in disappointment, while he continued smiling truimphantly to himself.
࿏࿏࿏
Your group took on a range of opponents, from skeleton armies to disingenuous slime cubes that you may or may not have fallen into, able to pass through quite a few levels of the dungeon, mostly due to Seonghwa’s spell casting abilities, San’s uncontrollable rage, Yunho’s knack of destroying anything he came in contact with, and Mingi’s axe-wielding skills. Did you want to admit that to yourself? Sure. Out loud? No, of fucking course not. 
You picked off bits of pink slime that still clung to your wet form, grumbling under your breath about how sticky you felt, not even noticing that some of the slime had already absorbed into your skin. 
“Need a little help there, princess?” Mingi mused, reaching down to your shoulder and wiping off some of the slime for you, his fingers tingling once he had done so. 
“I suppose so,” you murmured, standing still so that he could continue helping you, surprisingly not even that bothered when the other members of your newfound party all gathered around you and picked or pulled off the remnants of slime that remained on your body, face, and hair. 
As you entered the next room, all five of you noticed how the tinglyness remained, how it spread throughout your bodies like a gentle ripple effect, your bodies now collectively hot to the touch, though no one said anything to each other — at least, not yet, anyway. 
“A chest!” you gasped excitedly, putting your dagger back into its respective holder and running up to the large, gold-plated chest that sat at the edge of the room, just waiting for someone to open it up and collect its contents. 
“Don’t be stupid, elven brat. Not all chests are filled with treasure. Some of them could be decoys. You know that, right?” San rested the rounded bottom of his ginormous club down onto the dungeon floor, leaning on it, raising an eyebrow at you. “Or do you only familiarize yourself with crystals and orc cock?” 
“Shut up!” You held onto the barbarian’s insult, rather than hearing him out. “You’re just saying that because you want the treasure for yourself!” You got on your knees in front of the chest, muttering, “Selfish prick.” 
“What’d you say?!” San barked, his hand squeezing around the thick handle of his weapon. 
Mingi slung an arm around San’s tense shoulders, smiling as though he was quite pleased with himself. “She’s got a mouth on her, huh?” He met San’s grimace with a shoulder squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sannie. She’s gonna learn the hard way.” 
Yunho walked up beside Seonghwa, lowering himself down to sit on the cool stone ground with a thud, wiping a bit of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. “I’ve been feeling weird since we left the slime room, Hwa. Can you cast a healing spell?” 
“Yeah, me too, now that you mention it,” Mingi called out, rubbing his sweat-covered neck with his free hand, encouraging San to open his own black furry coat, revealing an expanse of sweaty, tan, tattooed skin underneath it. 
Seonghwa nodded his head in agreement, waving his hand around in front of him, manifesting a large glowing violet pentagram into existence, which eventually disappeared after the spell had be casted completely, a faint glow still visible around the edges of your bodies. 
“Mm, I don’t really feel any different…” Mingi mumbled, his hot-blooded body even more tingly than before, starting to feel like he could fuck someone into oblivion right at that moment, even more than usual. 
Once you had opened up the chest, ignoring the subsequent pounding inside your chest and cunt, you were met by a multitude of shiny, gold coins just waiting for you to take. “Holy shit, I’m rich!” 
“You better split that with us, before I split you in half with my cock, stupid elf!” San griped from where he stood, now a bit hunched over, his words slightly slurred, not even fully realizing what he was saying. 
“Wh-what?!” you squeaked, your ears bright red, turning your head to look at the barbarian in disbelief, not even noticing when the chest in front of you began to sprout limbs, a long, slimy tongue slipping out past the gold. 
“I said, I’ll split you open–” San fully dropped his club, which resulted in a resounding thud inside the small room. He pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, blinking at you through his hazy vision, using his other hand to grab at himself through his furry kilt. “–with my big, barbarian cock!” 
Yunho pointed at you as well, wanting you to notice the big monster that was about to have its way with you. “Um, Y/N, you should…” 
“Not now, Yunho, I have to tell this idiot barbarian to suck my clit!” you informed angrily, holding your middle finger up at San, which he returned enthusiastically. 
“Oh, yeah? Then, get your fucking ass over here and sit on my face, you elf slut,” San barked back, sticking his tongue out at you, still holding onto Mingi, appearing drunker by the second — though it wasn’t alcohol running rampant through his body. It was lust. The rest of them were feeling it too. 
“Slut? I’ll show you slut,” you grumbled, about to stand up and give San a piece of your mind, your fist, and possibly your body when the mimic suddenly snatched you up with its long limbs and pinned you to the floor. “Oh my god, what’s happening? What the fuck is that?!” 
San simply chuckled, leaning his back against the cold concrete wall of the small room, trying to cool his intensely heated body down. “That’s a mimic, dummy. I’m sure you can handle it though, since you’re so tough.” 
Mingi looked to his friends, biting at his lip, noticing that none of them even attempted to assist you, more concerned with finding out what the monster was about to do to you. Even Yunho, who was the only one with any semblance of a conscience out of the entire party, somehow couldn’t bring himself to get up, instead answering to the oversized tent that was forming underneath his pelt. 
The mimic pinned your wrists together above your head with one strong hand, using the other to lift one of your legs up into the air, breathing harshly as it studied your slick cunt through your tiny lace panties, eventually licking a long stripe up your body, from your pussy up to your chest, leaving your white garments completely soaked and see-through. 
Trying desperately to free your hands from the monster’s unwavering grip, unable to prevent more slick from leaking out of you with your legs being held open, you angled your head back to look at the upside-down versions of your party, crying out, “Are you fuckers just going to sit there and watch?!” 
“Yeah…we are, sweetheart,” Mingi sighed out, still leaning on San, a few drops of sweat cascading down his flushed face. He dragged his tongue across his teeth, breathing in the flowery scent of your arousal, inhaling so deeply his bull ring shifted slightly. “I’m sure you got it handled. Just tire it out with that wet fucking cunt of yours, will ya?” 
A strong wave of pleasure pulsed through your body at Mingi’s response, looking to each of the members, realizing that they were really just going to observe as you got pleasured by the monster, getting more aroused by the second. What was wrong with you? You would’ve contemplated it more, but any thoughts you had would completely fizzle out once the mimic’s tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking you up and down in a rapid, desperate fashion. Its tongue was so heavy and hot against your pulsing cunt, you couldn’t help but cum within a few minutes, your body going limp. “Fuuuck, oh my god…” 
“Came nice and hard, didn’t you?” Mingi continued to share his filthy words with you and his party, all five of you reacting positively to it. “I can fucking smell it, princess…” His smile twisted into a faux pout, his voice dripping with lust. “That tongue isn’t enough for you though, is it? Mm-mm, not nearly enough. You need cock stuffed inside your tight elven pussy, don’t you, darlin’?”
All you could do was let out a long pathetic whine, your flushed, fucked-our face giving Mingi and the boys the answer they needed. Now that you weren’t fighting back, the mimic lifted your lower half up into the air, positioning you so that its tongue could slither inside you, pistoning it in and out of your willing hole, your upper half hanging upside down, your tits bouncing with each of the mimic’s thrusts of its wet appendage, your writhing body on display for your party members’ viewing pleasure. “I’m…going to…kill you all…for watching…” you huffed out in between moans, drool slipping out past your parted lips. 
Mingi turned his head to share looks with his friends, all of them now dealing with the same almost painful predicament. “Are you all as hard as I am…?” When they nodded, he felt a little less guilty, reaching down to rub at his leaking cock through his kilt, able to feel how stiff it was even through the thick material. He gazed down at you, biting at his bottom lip, holding onto the thick leather of his body harness, trying not to blow his load too quickly. “It feels good, doesn’t it, princess? I can hear how just how sloppy that mess of a cunt is…Do you like the way it’s fucking you senseless with its tongue? Is it filling you up just right?” 
You couldn’t believe just how turned on you were in the moment, hardly about to breathe in between your bouts of pleasure, your body beginning to sieze up when the mimic shoved its tongue as deep as it could go, causing a prominent bulge to form inside your lower stomach. “S-so good, Min, gonna cum again…” 
“Cum for us, baby, that’s it…” Mingi sighed, leaning his shoulder against San’s, noticing how he began to play with his cock through his kilt, doing his friend a solid and reaching over to stroke the base of it for him. 
Groaning underneath his breath, San reached over to help Mingi out as well, the both of them hyperfixated on the way the mimic drank up your juices as though it needed it to live. Seonghwa and Yunho were in a similar position, but instead of answering to their aching cocks, they simply watched on, the visual stimulation clearly enough for them. 
The mimic lifted your limp body upwards so that you were on your knees, with its large, agile tongue fitted in between your trembling thighs, grabbing you by the waist so that it could drag you back and forth along its long, slimy appendage. “Just like that, oh my god, it’s so–fuck–” you gasped, barely able to look at the men that were huddled around you, the new position not allowing you to hide away from their hungry gazes, your body on full display for them. 
With his hand now fully hidden underneath San’s kilt, Mingi nodded his head at you in approval. “That’s my naughty little elf girl,” he praised you in a gravelly voice, groaning at the sensation of San tugging at his dripping cock from underneath his own pelt. “Let me see you cum one more time for us, princess. Can you do that?” 
“Yes, Mingiii, I’ll cum for you,” you whined obediently, reaching down your shiny, wet body to rub your clit around through your thin, soaked panties, unable to keep your mouth closed anymore from how hard you were breathing. 
“What a good listener you are, baby. Look at you playing with your tiny little clit without me having to ask. Such a good elf girl you are,” Mingi continued to praise you, knowing exactly what made you tick, his hand squeezing around San’s throbbing length. 
San let out a higher pitched moan, his body beginning to tremble against Mingi’s. “I can’t believe you–unnh–managed to tame her so easily…” 
“It wasn’t hard, Sannie…fuck– She may be a brat, but she’s a good girl at heart…” Mingi was beginning to fall apart as well, San’s calloused hand continually rubbing along his cock enhancing the pleasure of watching you willingly playing with yourself while you rode a monster’s tongue, his party’s presence filling him with even more warmth. “Cum for us, sweetheart, show us how pretty you are when you fall apart…” 
Mingi’s praise-filled request mixed with the sensation of your puffy clit grinding along the mimic’s slick tongue sent you barreling over the edge, cumming so hard, you saw stars, barely able to grasp at the dagger that still sat inside its holster.
Meanwhile, San and Mingi both began to groan and shudder against the cool dungeon wall, shooting their hot loads onto each other’s hands and the insides of their pelts. Seonghwa and Yunho both coated their own undergarments with white, biting into their bottom lips so hard they just about broke the skin.
They were all so deep in their wells of ecstasy that they hardly even noticed when you let out a war cry and stabbed the mimic with your long dagger, rendering it dead, causing it to fade away in a flurry of sparkly, white dust, leaving a few gold pieces for you to take. 
“I told you I could fucking take care of myself,” you grimaced, shoving your items into a small pouch you had hanging from your upper thigh.
Once the post-nut clarity set in, Mingi cleared his dry throat, scratching at his prickly chin. “I mean, you did defeat the mimic on your own, so credit is due when credit is due, princess. You just used your pussy to combat it…which is just as valid as using a real weapon, don’t get me wrong–”
“Shut it!” you simply yelled, your face so hot, it probably rivaled the surface of the sun, stomping past the recovering men and pushing the next door open once it unlocked itself, wasting no time to enter the last floor of the dungeon where the supposed lujuria plant was said to grow. 
“Let’s go help her out with that plant. And remember, whatever happens, happens. Just know I’m not fucking any of you.” Mingi patted San’s shoulder, looking over to the other members of his party with a playful smile.
San smacked Mingi’s back playfully, which Mingi returned. “Let’s put that elf brat in her place.”
Mingi nodded. “Yeah, on my cock where she belongs.”
Seonghwa scoffed from beside them. “Could you be anymore crass?”
Yunho patted Mingi’s and Seonghwa’s shoulders, practically dislocating them, smiling goofily, his cheeks and face flush from the energy he exerted.  “What happens in the dungeon, stays in the dungeon, boys.”
Seonghwa quietly nodded his head in agreement, until he murmured softly, “Indeed.” 
࿏࿏࿏
“Where are you, you stupid fucking plant?” you called out inside the vast, foliage-covered room, swiping at the overgrown leaves and plants that were in your way, almost tripping over a few vines that grew in and out of the broken-up cobblestone floor below your feet. 
The rest of your party followed your lead, Mingi and Yunho taking the initiative to cut down the thicker plants and foliage that stood in your way with their axes, almost completely out of breath when you finally came across a large pink plant growing in the middle of the room. 
“I’m assuming that’s it,” you said mostly to yourself, slowly walking up to the plant, impressed by its intricate petals and inviting flowery scent. “It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be. It’s almost…pretty…” 
Just as you reached out to touch it, Seonghwa opened his mouth to warn, “Wait, don’t–”
As soon as your slender fingers came in contact with one of the flower petals, the plant sent out a puff of dusty pink pollen directly into your face and the air around your party, before folding in on itself and growing comically large spikes to protect its core which contained the golden glowing seeds you needed to complete your quest. 
You began choking and coughing along with the others, reaching out blindly through the thick pollen, finding solace in Seonghwa’s arms, who began reciting a spell to lessen the effects of the plant’s attempt at self defense, but it was too late. Mind-altering desire had already set in. “Can’t breathe…can’t think…” you whispered, grabbing at Seonghwa’s chest, unbuckling his top and revealing his smooth, marble skin, henna-like tattoos decorating his jewelry-adorned collar bone. 
Seonghwa clutched your shoulders, breathing just as profusely as you were, murmuring, “Don’t think, then, silly elf,” before pressing his mouth onto yours with haste, his long, snake-like tongue slipping inside your mouth to explore it.
Strong, solid hands grabbed at your hips from behind, Mingi pulling them back so that he could grind his cock into your ass, his lips already ghosting along your neck. His deep, gravelly voice made you let out a weak moan into Seonghwa’s mouth when he sighed, “Gonna fill your cunt full of my cum, sweetheart. So fucking full.” 
“Then, I get to fill her slutty elf cunt with my tongue first,” San interrupted, already on his knees, positioning himself in between you and Seonghwa, not hesitating to tear your skirt and panties apart to access your rapidly dripping cunt. “So pink, so pretty…” He attached his drooling mouth onto your clit, sucking so roughly, your knees almost buckled underneath you, about to completely collapse when he plugged your hole up with his hot tongue. 
Seonghwa pulled away slightly, finally letting you breathe without having his tongue down your throat, instead completely shredding  the front of your dress with his talons, just in time for Mingi to groan and cup your tits, squeezing and moving them around, saliva leaking past his plump lips. “I always know exactly what your idiotic orc brain is thinking,” he sighed at Mingi, bringing his own hands up to tweak and pinch at your nipples, making you cry out. 
“Oh, yeah? Can you read my mind right now, Hwa? Can you tell that I’m about to stretch this elf’s little fuckhole wide open with my fat fuckin’ cock?” he said near your twitching, elongated ear, his hard length slipping in between your thighs to rub along the underside of your cunt, his dark eyes settled on Seonghwa’s before returning to your slick body, their hands moving in tandem to play with your tits, each getting a chance to squeeze your squishy flesh and tease your increasingly puffy nipples. 
Yunho, who was hard beyond measure and feeling a little left out, walked up to the side of you and reached down to show off his enormous cock, the slick , oversized tip an angry shade of red. He pouted down at you, letting out a small whimper. “Can you please help me out, sweet? I’m so hard, it hurts…” 
Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes, you nodded, licking your lips, collecting his vast amounts of pre-cum at the rounded tip with your fingers, eventually using it to slick up the rest of his cock, doing your best to jerk him off with your small hands. “Does that feel good, Yunho?” 
“So good, doll,” he gasped, leaning his head back, not registering when he began to thrust his hips forward into your hands, using them like a fleshlight. 
You’re so big, Yunho, fuck– I can hardly wrap my hands around it…” you sighed out, opening your mouth to lick at the tip of his cock each time he thrusted into your hands. Your mind went blank, until you suddenly remembered that San was in between your squeezing thighs, devouring your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue and lips wreaking havoc on your clit, his thick fingers shoved inside your pulsing hole.
“Like the way I’m eating this cunt of yours, eh, elf girl?” San mumbled in between slurps, gulping your juices down, a few dribbles of it cascading down his veined throat. “You don’t even need to answer, love. I can tell you do just from the way you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ my fingers.” San groaned deeply, watching the way you dripped for him as he continually went knuckles-deep inside you, biting his bottom lip, growling, “Cum for me. Cum all over my face, you brat. Fuckin’ do it.”
You unraveled almost instantaneously, getting your creaminess sucked off of your slit by the desperate barbarian, not even noticing that he had been jerking himself off so roughly, he had already made himself cum before you did. 
“Goddamn it, since when did high elf squirt taste so fuckin’ good?” San mumbled drunkenly to himself, licking at his swollen lips, prior to sucking your cum from his fingers noisily.
“You’ve had your fun, Sannie boy. It’s time for this little elf girl to experience the pleasure of getting broken in by real men. Hwa, you know what to do,” Mingi announced hastily, already bringing you down to the floor so that you were about to slowly take the half-orc’s cock in your cunt from behind, Seonghwa supporting your front, the tip of his tail already brushing back and forth over your swollen clit, rubbing his large, ridged cockhead on your puffy lips to slick them up with his pre-cum, his own plump lips moving at a quick pace, expertly reciting an incantation that would allow you to physically take two obscenely large cocks at once, all well as increasing your natural lubricant and allowing you access to heightened physical sensations.
“Fuck, look at you…What a good little elf girl you are, taking us both inside you like this,” Mingi sighed into your ear, reaching around your body to lazily rub your wetness into your sensitive clit. “Almost like you were made to take monster cock, huh? Not made for little elven peckers, it seems.” He pressed his hand into your lower abdomen, able to feel the pronounced outline of his friend’s abnormally large length. “Mm, that’s right. You loved being stuffed full of monster cock, don’t you, sweetheart?”
“Love it, Min, so much,” you choked out, your mind going positively blank, the only thing on your mind being the insanely pleasurable stretch you felt inside your core, knowing you were quite literally filled to the brim. “Feels so good, I can’t think.”
“Why think when you can just feel good, princess?” he chuckled, rubbing your tummy in an up and down motion, feeling the outline of Seonghwa’s thick, ridged length with his calloused fingers, shuddering from the sensation of their slippery cocks rubbing along one another inside your tight, slick walls . He nuzzled your neck and the side of your face with his prickly cheek, whispering onto your skin, “M’ so proud of you, sweetheart. I broke you in before and now here you are, taking big tielfing cock in your pussy while an orc’s stuffing you just as full. What a pretty sight you are. Wish I could take a picture.”
“Oh my god, Mingi, please, it’s so–” you could hardly verbalize, your eyes just about rolling into your skull, your body pulsing with so much pleasure, you could barely keep up with what was happening around you.
Mingi routinely filled your elongated ears with more filthy words, Seonghwa gazing deeply at you, your willing hole continuing to clench around their thrusting cocks, getting stretched so pleasurably, you almost passed out from that sensation alone.
All the while, San positioned himself in from of your tits, squeezing them together and driving his cock back and forth between them, grunting and groaning each time.
Yunho gently grabbed your chin, coaxing your mouth open as wide as it would go, whispering, “That’s it, my sweet, just a little wider…” He began to feed you his cock, stuffing your mouth full and instinctively fucking your throat, your jaw already beginning to ache from the obscene girth. “You’re so tiny…can barely take it…huh?” Moaning breathily, Yunho eventually settled for fucking the inside of your gummy cheek, afraid that he would suffocate you if he continued to throat fuck you.
It seemed that this quartet had been in this exact position before. That was clear to you now. You couldn't have been more wet and willing if you tried. Getting used by two filthy men while two more watched and desperately tried to get off using your body in any way they could filled you with a sense of purpose you didn’t realize you had always sought after. 
“You want our cum in your pretty elf cunt, princess?” Mingi huffed, in between harsh, deliberate thrusts, his hands cemented on the reappearing bulge in your stomach. “Huh? You want us to make a mess of you, aye? Want to be fucked so full of our seed, you’ll give us pretty elven offspring?” 
Once Yunho freed your saliva-streaked mouth from his suffocating length and resorted to jerking himself off, you were able to reply in a fucked-out, slurred voice, “Yeah–yeah–yeah– fill me up, wan’ it all. All your cum, in me, on me, I need it, pleaseee.” 
Your willing party members’ highs all crescendoed in succession, Mingi resorting to sloppy, rough thrusts inside your tight hole until he spilled most of his load into you, his cum splashing onto Seonghwa’s cock, dripping along their lengths to form a milky rim. “Oh, fuck, that’s it…but I’m not done yet, princess…I gotta–nngh–leave my mark on my favorite elf…” He slowly pulled out with lewd pop, coaxing a few more cum shots out of his cock with a large, closed fist, watching the large milky droplets slide along your smooth skin and torn sections of your dress onto the curve of your exposed ass, his eyes creasing with clear adoration. “That’s more like it…”
“W-was that necessary…?” you murmured, trying not to cum just from the sensation of getting stuffed full of cum, sensing that Seonghwa was next in line to come undone inside you.
“Oh, my gods, I…see heaven,” Seonghwa gasped sharply, the whites of his boundless eyes glowing brightly, his lips parting to allow a shaky moan to escape. Seonghwa gripped your hips so tightly, he was bound to leave handprints, relying on slow, deliberate strokes, using your contracting cunt to milk the cum from his cock, unable to resist leaving a few drops on your clit and mound when he pulled out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum all over these tits, you little elven slut, take itttt,” San gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, only having to pump himself between your slick, pre-cum covered tits once more before he was able to leave thick spurts of white all over the bottom of your heated face and lips, leaving most of his load on your messy tits.
“O-oh, godddd…!” Yunho came last, and the most, closing his hands around his reddened tip, whining profusely, unable to keep himself from completely unloading all over your pretty face and hair, practically drenching you in his cum. 
Mingi reached down to cup your chin, tilting your head back so that he could get a good look at you, admiring the way their collective seed dripped off and out of you, swearing he could shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. “Look at you. My pretty princess.”
You gently nuzzled his large hand, smiling contentedly, tasting the salt of someone’s load on your lips when you licked at them. “Your pretty princess…” 
It took a while for all of you to come down and catch your breath, the effects of the pollen still practically running through your veins, but you managed to wobble your way over to the main plant and slowly pull your trusty dagger out of its holder, slashing the plant until its precious seeds dropped into your open palm. You looked down at the golden, glowing seeds, your fingers still splattered with milky liquid, reminding you of the trials you conquered to get to your ultimate goal. As you wiped your sticky face with your sleeve, you looked around at your panting, much more docile party members, wondering if it was all worth it. 
Mingi brushed some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes, noticing the way you were looking up at him, sending a cocky smile your way. “So, you’re 200 gold pieces richer, princess. How does it feel?” 
“Huh?” you questioned immediately, your fingers closing around the pouch that contained the precious lujuria seeds. “It was 1000 gold pieces. Did fucking me stupid render you stupid instead?” 
“I’m sorry, darlin’, but with each party member fee, it rounds out at 200 a person,” he corrected you, bringing you in to give you a gentle hug and a pat on the ass, chuckling delightedly to himself, his friends joining in on the amusement. “That’s still quite a bit. You can buy yourself a pretty new dress since yours is all torn and drenched in our cum, ya’ know?” He leaned his head in your direction, twiddling his large thumbs, his smile growing more lewd. "That means I can have the one you're wearing right now, yeah?"
You grimaced, your blood boiling over, already stomping your way out of the last dungeon floor, your voice still growing louder and louder the further you walked away, swearing to yourself, “This is the last time I do anything with you, Mingi! Never again. Never! EVER!” 
Mingi simply waved off at his friend’s questioning gazes, holding the seeds that you had taken from the plant inside his own hand, admiring their shimmering edges. “Don’t worry. She always comes back.” 
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star-girl69 · 5 months
Text
So It Goes…
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: the one day chiron decides to switch up the capture the flag teams, and everyone knows you’re clarisse’s weakness, In A Good Way sequel!!
i changed my theme it’s me tho promise
a/n: protective clarisse the love of my life i love you i do i think we should get married actually anyways this one is sooooooo i got to explore a more casual side of clar’s and reader’s relationship in this (for like a min) i hope you all enjoy!!
So It Goes… - Taylor Swift
warnings: soft clarisse my love, protective clarisse we KNOW how i feel abt her…., also slightly possessive clarisse i think i love you too, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, clarisse picks reader up which i KNOW is not inclusive (im literally plus-sized idk what the hell am i doing) but it was so good i couldn’t resist, she has like super strength probs so i’ll just believe (she literally could not pick me up i need to stop being delusional), swearing, violence, kissing, a bit suggestive but nothing crazy, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Clarisse’s bed is one of your favorite places. You’ve spent so many nights here, wrapped up in her arms, feeling like no one could touch you. And you’ve spent secret days with her hands on your waist, yours in her hair, lips pressed together so tight it’s like you were each other’s oxygen.
You love Clarisse’s bed. And you know Clarisse loves her bed too, seeing as it’s a huge source of pride for her- it’s the best bunk in the cabin, and she gets a major kick over the fact that you sleep here just as much as you sleep in your own cabin.
You’re sitting down, watching Clarisse pace back and forth, her spear in her hand.
“Clarisse,” you say. She brought you here just fo freak out. Now she won’t sit down and let you help her, and she wont just freaking listen. “Clarisse, baby, what’s wrong? Can you at least put your spear down so you don’t accidentally kill somebody? If you kill me with that I’m gonna come back and kill you.”
She stops for a moment and leans her spear up against the wall. You let out a sigh.
“Now just sit down-”
She resumes her pacing.
As much as you love just being in Clarisse’s presence, as much as you know you’re her rock, the only thing that keeps her tethered in the storm she constantly fights through, you need her to let you help her.
“Clarisse!” you stand up, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You’re freaking me out, okay? What happened? I-I’m sure we can fix it, I mean…” you rub your hands up and down your arms, which you know she likes, her muscles are one of her biggest sources of pride.
She sits down, letting you stand in between her legs, her hands moving to hold your hips.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. She’s not very good at handling her emotions, but she’s getting better, and at least she’s able to recognize and apologize when her emotions are hurting other people. Well, you, at least. She breathes out. “Chiron decided to switch the teams.”
And now she had to work with the Athena cabin? The Gods know after the Ares and Athena cabins have captained opposing teams for years, Chiron pretends there’s not, but everyone knows there’s a deep rivalry. More than just friendly competition.
“The Demeter cabin will be on the red team.”
“Okay,” you say, squeezing her shoulders. You aren’t really close with anyone from the Demeter cabin, it doesn’t really bother you much.
“And… the Aphrodite cabin will be on the blue team.”
“Oh.”
You’ve never not been on Clarisse’s team for capture the flag. Not only does the entire red team’s tactic rest on you using your charmspeak to protect the flag, but what the hell are you supposed to do fighting against Clarisse?
She wraps her arms around your waist, flopping back onto her bed and bringing you down on top of her.
“I know it’s all Annabeth and Luke behind this. I’m sure that little smartass has made up some sick plan to make me go insane.”
You scoff, planting your hands behind her head on the bed. “You’re the one who can actually fight. I’m, like, so bad it’s not even funny, Clar.”
“You beat me all the time,” she frowns.
And it’s true, you spar with her at least 3 or 4 times a week, and you win most of the those times. But Clarisse moves slower, she doesn’t hit as hard, she anticipates your next move and doesn’t block it so you can land a hit.
“We both know you let me win.”
“I like seeing you smile,” she says, her own matching smile on her face.
“Okay, you big romantic.” You let your hands slip, laying your head against her chest and your arms flat around her head. “It’s not that big of a deal, Clar. I’m sure it’ll be fine, then Chiron’ll probably switch them back.”
“Annabeth convinced him to do it. She has some sort of plan, Y/N, she does.”
“You’ve mentioned,” you hum. “Stop stressing. Nothing we can do about it.”
“Fine,” she hisses.
She wraps her arms around your waist and throws you to the side so you yelp, now she’s climbing on top of you, laying her head on your chest.
“It’s going to be the worst game of capture the flag in history, you know. I hope you’re happy, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do without you. I mean, I guess I could move that group in the west side to just south of the flag, so that’ll be a bit more for them to get through. Oh, I’ll stick that one good archer on the ground- no, no that wouldn’t work, I need him in the trees. But I’ll move his position-”
—-
You walk to the woods together. When it’s time to split up, Clarisse grabs you by your armor and points her finger into your chest.
“Clar, what the hell are you doing-”
“Don’t do anything I would do.”
“Okay, Clarisse,” you smile, blinking once to avoid rolling your eyes at her ridiculousness.
She smirks, her arm squeezing your waist. She pecks you on the lips before pulling away completely.
“Done making out?” Jackie asks, her and Tyla suddenly appearing next to you.
“It was one kiss, Jacks. Are you sure we have the same Mom?”
“No, honestly.”
You fall into step with the two of them, laughing as you make your way through the woods and to the edge of the river.
Chiron makes his usual speech, the conch sounds, and everyone starts moving around.
Annabeth finds the three of you soon after. Tyla and Jackie fall away, following your other siblings. Annabeth always has this calculating look on her face, like she knows something you don’t, a true child of Athena. You have to admit, she really is one of the smartest people you know.
“Annabeth,” you smile. “I guess you want me by the flag?”
“No, I debated that, but I decided against it.”
She smirks and looks at you before spinning around, pointing to Luke and his team members who are always in charge of getting the flag.
“You’ll be with Luke.”
You frown. “You do realize I have absolutely no skill in battle, right, Annabeth?”
“Yeah, but skill doesn’t matter when you have power. Power over someone.”
“Oh, okay. Who do you want me to charmspeak-”
“Charmspeak whoever you come across, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You have power over Clarisse. I know she’s defending the flag today, right?”
She looks at you sharply.
You smile. “Oh, I really don’t know. But if you say so, sure.”
She starts walking, you follow her.
“Clarisse doesn’t talk strategy to you? I mean, I talk Luke’s ear off.”
“Oh, no, she does, I just don’t really retain any of it.”
She huffs a small sound of laughter.
“I know she’ll be there,” she affirms.
“If you say so!” you say, all sing song, Luke smiling as he meets your eyes.
“Y/N! How’s it feel to finally be on the winning team?”
“I love being on the red team, thanks for asking.”
“Ha. You’re so funny, are you sure you’re not a child of Apollo?”
“Too beautiful,” you glide your hands down your face. “I get it from my godly mother.”
“Luke, do you know what you’re doing?” Annabeth asks.
“Yes ma’am.”
She smiles and walks away, talking to more people while you can faintly hear Clarisse shouting at people. With the change in tactic, you know she’s been slightly stressed, but she won’t allow herself to feel anything other than confidence, outwardly.
She still walks tall. She still grips her spear in her hand a little to tight. She’s a bit too greedy with the things that are hers, she grabs on a bit too tight, but you know it’s just because she’s scared. You like it.
If this were a regular game, you would probably be walking next to Clarisse right now, or kissing her goodbye while you follow Matty and everyone else to go protect the flag.
When you and Clarisse first started dating, she was slow to be so affectionate, but the more of her walls you started breaking down the more you found a complicated teenage girl who felt unloved, and had a lot of love to give too.
The more confident she became in your private relationship, the more she wanted everyone to know. It was her fatal flaw, pride, hubris. She wanted everyone to know she was yours and your were hers. She wanted everyone to be jealous.
“I’m so glad we don’t have to wear those horrible earplugs today. They always make me worried. Someone could be shouting a few feet away and none of us would hear.”
“Stop gloating, Luke.”
“I’m just expressing my gratitude, Y/N, is that not allowed?”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Oh, oh, I know. You’re sad, aren’t you?”
“Sad?” you snort.
“Yeah, sad. Sad you aren’t with Clarisse. You’re devastated, destroyed, wrecked.”
You put your hand on your sword. “Who are you… and what have you done with Luke Castellan? Luke doesn’t know that many words…”
He hits your shoulder. “Shut up, Y/N.”
—-
You’re walking through the woods.
Not sneaking around in stealth, not running, but walking.
You’ve come across a few of your former team members, but one of the blue team just tackles them and you tell them to turn around and count to 5,000.
For some reason, it’s worse than sitting by the rock, waiting for someone to make a play for the flag. At least at the rock you’re surrounded by all these people you know. You and Matty are usually talking, Marjorie sometimes joins, and you all have fun bullying Corey for that one time he didn’t see the blue team coming.
Luke’s voice drops to a whisper.
“Here’s your job. You can either, one, go make out with Clarisse in a corner, which shouldn’t be too hard-”
“Luke,” you hit his shoulder. He hisses.
“I’m joking, joking. Just keep her distracted, fight her, maybe pull your shirt down a bit? Oh, or I can just cut it so it’s a bit more revealing-”
“Luke, shut up or else I will make you.”
“It’s not a bad idea-”
“Luke!”
“Sh, sh,” he whispers. “Don’t be so loud, we’re almost to the flag. We’re going for stealth, okay?”
“Oh, really, I didn’t notice,” you deadpan. He looks around.
“Blue team, stealth mode, alright?”
Everyone nods. You roll your eyes. You miss the red team.
—-
After Luke gives you the ok, meaning the blue team has successfully surrounded the red team and the clearing, you take a step forward.
Annabeth was right. Clarisse is there.
It’s fitting. If you can’t be there, she would.
You look up at Corey, but he hasn’t noticed any of you yet. You frown, thinking about how he’s probably going to get beat up.
“Clarisse!” you shout. You watch everyone jump into defensive positions. She can’t see you yet, but she stares in the direction of your voice, her eyes squinting, smiling softly.
“Luke?” she shouts. “That you?”
You frown.
“What the hell?” you say, stepping forward. “You don’t recognize my voice? I thought that was really smart. Like, a cool way to reveal myself, I don’t know.”
You come into the clearing, sword by your side.
Clarisse’s smile drops.
“I-I- no, baby, I just wasn’t expecting Annabeth to send you here-”
“Do I really sound like Luke?”
“No,” she says, immediately. “You sound like an angel.
Matty laughs. Clarisse stabs his foot with the end of her spear. She smiles at you.
“Is Luke here though?” Marjorie asks, subtly trying to look through the trees.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you do,” Matty snorts.
“You’re going to tell me though right, baby?” Clar smiles, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you.
“Obviously not, you didn’t recognize me. I’m, like, really hurt by that Clarisse-”
“Gods, Clarisse,” Matty shouts at the sky, laughing. You didn’t recognize her, and now we’re all fucked!”
“Shut the fuck up, Matty,” she says over her shoulder. She looks at you, smiling again, her hand reaching out to touch your face. “I’ll let you do that thing you’ve always wanted to do.”
You smile, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll let me give you a makeover? Really?”
“Yes.” Her teeth grit, but she keeps smiling, her thumb rubbing your cheek.
“Hm, I don’t know,” you mutter, your eyes fixing on her spear when you suddenly reach forward, grabbing it from her hands and turning to run away.
The blue team emerges from the woods with war cries, swords start clashing, and it all happens so fast.
The plan was for you to grab her spear, make her chase you around the woods, and hopefully the blue team would be able to overpower the red team without her.
Instead, Clarisse kicks out her foot, tripping you. Then, she catches you and the spear in what you swear has to be a milisecond.
“Clarisse!” you shout, genuinely offended. She beat you so easily. It wasn’t even a fight. You didn’t even get the chance to run.
“Sorry, baby, it’s capture the flag!”
You about to start kicking like a wild animal when she suddenly lets you go. Luke is there, fighting her while you pick your sword up from the ground that fell in the commotion.
One of your team members dropped their helmet and you pick that up too.
You’re not that bad of a fighter, Clarisse just knows everything about you, you tell yourself. But your pride is slightly wounded and you want to prove to her, yourself, and everyone that you’re not just a weak Aphrodite kid or some poor thing that hangs off Clar’s arm.
You can hold your own.
You stick the helmet on and step into the fight. Someone groans and a sword comes wishing through the air, but you block it.
They swing again.
You block it.
You picked up things from Clarisse, and, besides, you weren’t just sparring for fun. She actually teaches you, better than the actual sword practice teacher if your biased opinion is to be trusted.
But you probably just feel that way because she rewards you with kisses.
It seems like you’re actually winning for a second, about to disarm him, when he seems to get fed up with fighting you and suddenly arcs hard over your head, making you lose your footing and letting him kick you.
You land on your back, groaning and trying to catch your breath.
“That was such a bitchy move,” you mumble. He leans over you, about to kick the sword out of your hand-
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Samuel.”
She holds her spear right under his throat, and he finally seems to look at your face instead of just your blue helmet.
“Shit. Sorry. Sorry, Clarisse, I’m sorry.”
She looks like she’s about to kill him but she just pushes him away.
“I was winning,” you groan. “But then he kicked me.”
She kicks him as he walks away.
You expect her to tug you up and start lecturing you but instead she leans down and throws you over her shoulder.
“Wha- Clarisse!”
“That’s enough for you today,” she says, patting the back of your thigh.
“Clarisse, I swear to Hades, let me down!”
“One second,” she mumbles.
When she places you down on the ground again, you’re leaning against a tree. She grabs your hand, frowning at something.
It’s the smallest cut, barely there, but Clarisse of course acts like it’s the end of the world.
“Does it hurt?”
Your eyes fix on Luke behind her, stalking slowly towards her turned back.
“No, Clar, it’s fine. Now I-”
“I think you should go the nurse.”
Your mouth drops open. “Clarisse, it’s a paper cut!”
“And if it gets infected? Go away, Luke, I can hear you.”
He locks eyes with you but ultimately turns around with a very scared and annoyed look on his face.
“Now do you see why I was all messed up? I knew this was going to happen. You were gonna get hurt, and it was going to be my fault.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not your fault, Clarisse-”
“But isn’t it? You would have been at the flag if Annabeth hadn’t known how much you mean to me. Instead, you were here. Instead, you were rushing off to go fight someone-”
“I’m not a damsel in distress, Clar!”
She presses her lips together.
“I can fight too. Not as good as you, but I can. I-I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want to rely on you for everything, it’s- it’s embarrassing.”
You didn’t even know you were feeling this way until you felt it. But it’s always been there, you guess. You always watch Clarisse spar and know she could never do anything like that with you. And you thought you were fine with it, and you are fine with having things that you like and things that she likes- but you don’t want to be so useless anymore.
She’s silent for a second.
“I- I get that. I do. But I just don’t know how to tell you I… I love you without showing it. I’m not good at saying it, you know that.”
“Clarisse,” you frown.
She puts her hands on your face.
“You are… the most precious thing in the world to me, Y/N. I really hope you know that.”
You wrap your arms around her neck, you can feel her heart thump from the fight.
“I know that, Clarisse. Of course I know that. You show me every day, I just- I just want to feel like my own person.”
She grips you tighter. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll teach you to fight. But you have to do it how I say, and you can’t go off and do this-”
You pull back so you can make sure this is real.
“Really?” you smile.
“You have to listen to me, Y/N, and do it slowly, okay-”
“Yes, yes, yes, okay, yes,” you breathe, planting your hands on your face before kissing her. It’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s exactly what you think of when you think of her. You think of the side that’s yours, the side that only you can see.
You break it, leaning down to pick up her spear.
The red team is losing the fight behind you.
“Ok, go win capture the flag. And I’ll stay here. My hand does kinda hurt,” you mumble.
She smiles and kisses your cheek. “Not just a paper cut, huh?”
“Can I still give you a makeover?” you ask as she turns away.
“Maybe!”
—-
y/n: what why did you not recognize me ☹️☹️
clarisse, genuinely terrified: i have no idea what the hell you are talking about please please please don’t take away kissing privileges please please please
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008
(pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!)
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eelnoise · 2 months
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anamnesis (nsfw!)
zoro x afab!reader has a sequel kinda now cw: masturbation, solo m, pining, piv sex, some fluff wc: 912 an: zoro jerking off to reader during the timeskip has me in a chokehold. VERY self indulgent btw. tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @willowbelle @strawheart-pirate @themushroomofdeath
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The damn island is too dark for anyone’s own good on most days, far too easy to miss a turn on the path back to the castle and subsequently ending up lost for a few hours. Countless times has Zoro wandered about the grounds absent-mindedly, thinking neither here nor there about where his feet take him, and countless times more has someone - usually the ghost girl - come to fetch him should he be gone too long.
But tonight sees Mihawk away, leaving him alone to train by himself for several days. Though usually up to the task of working on technique, he finds himself instead somewhere about the grounds with his back flat against a grassy hillside, eyes glued shut with one hand sprawled out on his stomach while the other hastily fists at his cock.
There’s a bit of shame to it that still lingers. Not of the act in itself but because at the very forefront of his mind all Zoro can see is traces of his limbs entangled with yours with clothes long shed and tossed aside, tucked away in some private corner of the ship having your fill of one another.
A soft grunt escapes from his lips as he pictures you above him, thighs at either side of his own with your hands tangled into fistfuls of his hair. He imagines his fingertips dipping harshly into the soft flesh of your hips, thighs - just whatever he can get his hands on while you roll your hips up and down on his length. 
Zoro can all but taste your lips upon his - a recurring pattern of this already unusual behavior from him - locked in a loop of increasingly messy, breathless kisses. He craves his tongue entwined with yours, wanting to capture every sound you make, to swallow each one to sate a sweet tooth reserved for you and only you.
In a moment that now feels like an age gone by, the two of you had shared a very passionate moment - one he can scarcely remember the moments leading up to. The kiss you had given him that night on the open sea - his first - just days before your forced separation nearly two years ago replays in his head on repeat, muting the nuances prior but sends with it a barrage of emotion he continues to struggle to bear yet yearns to understand.
It’s why the reverie behind his lids dances with visions of you and sings in the tune of your voice. It’s why his toes curl in his boots at the thought of your skin upon his in the most intimate of ways. It’s why he craves the whole of you, why he wants to somehow find the words to tell you how he feels, why he thinks of you before he sleeps and why he hears your voice bid him good morning each time he wakes.
And now, it’s why he’s desperately stroking himself and wishing beyond hope that his hand was your pussy instead. 
With his free hand he bundles the collar of his shirt between his teeth in an attempt to hide his own breathlessness. His legs bend at the knee in focus, and the sheer need that overtakes him in these final moments elicits a muffled growl from deep within his gut with the thought of just how good it would feel to fill you from the inside out and let proof of the act slide from your core and down his cock. 
Zoro tightens his jaw and sweat beads trickle down his face as his pace quickens, and suddenly he’s biting at the bit to know just how you sound when you cum. In his mind’s eye you’re clawing down his back while he takes control, fucking up into you in a starry-eyed chase of clemency. Your fantasized voice pants his name like a prayer in his ear, finally forcing your lips apart to break into pieces atop him. 
He wants to take you there and back again, needs to see your face twisted in delirium from something only he can supply. His head spins with the image of you writhing in his arms, yours holding onto him tightly when you tip over the edge. You cry out for him to keep going, you leave sloppy open-mouthed kisses along his neck, you whine and mewl and dig your nails down his back,muttering into his flesh about how good it feels or how much you-
How much you love him.
Zoro cums the instant the fictional you says the words in his head, the fabric in his mouth doing little to stifle the groans of pleasure playing from his lips while he covers his hand and lower belly in thick white spend with your name on his tongue, face in his mind, and voice in his soul. 
He slides his shirt from his shoulders and quickly cleans himself up. Sitting up on the darkened hillside with his elbows resting on his knees, Zoro sighs and raises his now halfened gaze to the heavens. Are you staring up at the same sky, wherever you are? He scans the endless ocean of stars above, missing the times where you’d be next to him on the deck pointing out the various constellations and explaining their meanings - and even though he still doesn’t believe in astrology, Zoro has each of your favorite ones memorized.
He wants to tell you he has a favorite one, too.
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fayes-fics · 2 months
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Audacious
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Sequel to Impertinent. After your engagement party, Anthony asks you to rendezvous in his office to continue where you left off.
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, innocence/corruption kink, sex education, mutual masturbation, orgasms.
Word Count: 2.2k
Authors Note: Sequel request fill for @cleopatraathene to continue the story from Impertinent (ask HERE). Sorry, it's taken so long, my dear. Err, this could well turn into a series at this rate. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. Enjoy! <3
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The bejewelled band feels weighty around your left ring finger as you rap your knuckles quietly upon his study door. It's late, and the last thing you want is for anyone to know what you are doing.
After a pause, the hinges creak, and a hand snakes out and grabs your arm.
Before you know it, you are dragged through the door, and it closes with you pressed against the other side, the room heady with the scent of recently smoked cigars and expensive brandy. Anthony is casual in just a white shirt, sleeves rolled up around his elbows, braces slung around his hips.
“Fiancée,” he rumbles, his nose trailing up your neck as he leans in, the wood of the door panels digging into your bottom through the thin layer of your silk robe. “Did you enjoy our engagement party?” he queries, teasing your throat with soft kisses.
“Yes,” you answer breathily. “A-And I did as you asked.”
He pauses in his ministrations; you can feel the curve of a smile over your skin. “What did I ask you to do?” he knows the answer; he just wants to hear you say it.
“To return this evening exactly as I was last night.” 
He tuts softly, his nose trailing up the cord of your neck. “But you are wearing something, so you are not as you were.”
“I could hardly walk through the halls of your home naked, my lord!” you gasp.
He chuckles richly, his breath hot in your ear. “On the contrary. This is soon to be all yours. As Viscountess, you can do exactly as you wish. Or as I wish. And sometimes, I may wish you to be naked at my bidding,” he straightens up and looks down at you, dark eyes glittering. “Would you do that for me? Would you walk naked where I told you?“
Again, as last night, you feel under a spell. “Yes, my lord,” you whisper truthfully.
“Audacious,” he rasps approvingly, “just how I like it,” the last few words muttered over your lips before capturing them with his.
Your stomach quivers at his praise, then vaults at the first brush of his mouth, knowing that now you are betrothed, he has promised so much more. His lips are warm and soft as he slowly parts your lips, his tongue rolling, requesting entry. Instinctively, you open, a wave of luscious wet heat as his tongue lathes over yours, a dance that has you inside melting and a throb at the apex of your thighs that is entirely foreign but enthralling. As he breaks away, you chase his lips, eyes still closed, wanting more of his heady kisses. He grabs both of your hands and pulls you to the centre of the room, the fire warming the backs of your calves as he releases his hold.
“Take off your robe,” his order soft.
Your trembling hands scramble to obey, making quick work of the knot at your belly, pushing the material off your shoulders so it flutters onto the rug behind you so you are naked. There is a throaty noise and he takes a step back as if to better drink in the view of your body. His lush bottom lips curling under his upper teeth, his eyes covetous, roaming your skin.
“You should never wear clothes,” he opines, backing further away, grabbing a wingback chair and scraping it across the carpet until it is behind him. He takes a seat, his eyes never leaving your form.
“Spin for me.”
Heart beating fast, you rock onto the balls of your feet and rotate away so you face the blazing fire, your back towards him. Then you slowly complete the circle until you are facing him again, his expression ravenous.
“A perfect specimen. Now touch yourself,” the order is gruff.
You frown at him. “Where, my lord?”
“Are you to tell me you have never put your fingers between your legs?” he scoffs, disbelieving.
“N-no, my lord? Should I?’ 
The dancing flames of the fire are almost too hot on your bottom, as he answers in a cool register. “Yes, you should. But perhaps I should be the one to instruct you as your future husband.”
With that, he stands from his seat, walking purposely towards you, his boots heavy on the rug as you take a deep breath. He grabs your right wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips and engulfing them in his hot mouth, his tongue questing against the pads of your fingers, the suckle of his lips sensual and damp.
With a salacious pop, he pulls off your fingers, his lips quirking into a knowing smile as he guides your wetted fingers to your chest.
“Touch your nipples,” he instructs quietly.
You gasp as his cooling saliva meets your flushed, puffy areola, puckering instantly under the pad of your fingers. 
“That feels good, does it not?” he dusks, wrapping his hand over yours to direct your caressing of yourself, his fingers never touching your nipple but directing your movement like a puppeteer, taking the fingers of your left hand and repeating the suckling action, guiding your fingers to your other nipple.
All you can do is nod and bite your lip, pushing up into your own hands, squirming slightly from foot to foot, feeling a dampness smear on your inner thighs as you do, your tummy replete with butterflies under his heavy gaze.
He guides your fingers over the swell of your lower breast and down over your stomach, chuckling as the teasing trail of your own fingers makes you giggle lightly, your belly rippling. His eyes flash as his hand guides yours lower, trailing into the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs, something thronging between your legs at the molten look on his face.
Two of his fingers curl over the back of yours, turning your middle and pointer fingers into a hook before he pushes your hand lower. Again, you gasp as your fingers slide at his insistence into some folds of skin between your legs, damp and sticky. His face is dashingly mischievous as he places those hooked fingers over a certain swollen nub and swirls them slowly in an anticlockwise motion. You startle at the spike of pleasure that rushes through your body, the epicentre under your attentions.
“How does that feel, fiancée?” he murmurs, tone like velvet.
All you can do is stutter his name on a shaky exhale, your other hand shooting out to grab his muscular forearm where it presses your belly, the dark hairs there tickling your palm as you grip around him, needing the anchor, your knees feeling oddly weak.
“Oh, you like that…” he huffs, amused, as he crowds into you, his hand covering yours between your legs, dictating your movements, a shiver running down your spine at the fizzles of pleasure sparking around your body. “Do not stop,” his voice low, resonant, his lips hot on your temple, you moaning lightly and leaning into him.
A sweet-tart scent fills the air, your fingers coated in a slick, viscous substance that can only be from your own body, a soft, wet noise emanating from where you touch yourself.
“That is my favourite sound in the world,” Anthony sighs into your ear, “so ripe and ready for me…just wait until we are married.”
“What will happen?” you inhale, trying your best to concentrate even as you feel your body swelling under your own touch, engorged, hot, craving more friction.
“All in good time…” he answers enigmatically, his breath a touch uneven.
The slightly rough texture of his cotton shirt snags delightfully against your nipples as you writhe, riding your own fingers and his, wishing it were his skin touching yours. There is something hard in his britches that rubs your stomach with each move you make.
“Do not stop,” he gruffs.
You whine as he steps away, craving his heat, his toned body glorious to rub yourself against, akin to a cat.
“My lord…” you mewl, appealing for him to return, swaying unsteadily on your feet even as you continue to touch yourself as instructed.
“That is it, keep going up,” he encourages, retaking the seat and staring at you covetously, one of his hands falling to his lap, palming a swelling there.
“What are you doing, my lord?” 
You are intrigued by his soft panting as he roughly tugs at the buttons on his trousers.
“I am doing as you are,” he groans, “I am touching myself, My cock.”
With that, he fishes something out from his white underwear that makes you inhale sharply. A red, almost angry looking rod of flesh that stands proud of his body from a dark thatch of hair. The slight is intriguing and makes you pulse heavily between your legs as if innately knowing it belongs there.
You feel yourself moving towards him, like a magnetic pull, your fingers still sliding over that hardened pearl between your legs as you get closer, hypnotised by the sight of his hand, now in a fist, moving up and down his swollen cock.
“Cock…” it falls from your lips reflexively as you stare.
He groans loudly at your utterance, a shiny pearl of wetness pooling at his tip as he does so.
You feel feverish, not just because of the roaring fire in the hearth, but a blaze inside, a flush running through you that makes your mind feel both fuzzy and sharp, singular in pursuit of pleasure, your fingers moving faster now between your legs, varying your speed and motion.
He hisses his approval as your knees buckle, sinking to a kneel on the rug, your knees splaying wide, your fingers freer to move, but your eyes never leave his hand, his motion a quick twisting tug now.
“Does that not hurt?” you blurt out breathily, not pausing, chasing a high you can feel hovering so tantalisingly close, a tingle over your lips and the back of your scalp.
“No, it feels just as good as your fingers do on you,” he assures, broken, huffing now. “I will teach you,” he adds, meeting your gaze heatedly when your eyes ping to his face briefly.
Something about this feels so decadent and luxurious, the same as his velvet jacket was on your skin last night, the garment that catalysed this whole tumultuous journey.
“Swap hands,” he commands, cutting into your wayward tangent, and you find yourself obeying on instinct. “Give me that other,” he rejoins. Before you know it, the fingers that were between your legs are in his mouth, his tongue curling and sucking wantonly, feeling the vibration of his groan over your fingertips as he cleans all your juices from your fingers, his hand a frenzy on his cock now.
Your other hand feels different; something about the catch of your blunt fingernails between your legs has you hurtling towards some crescendo, your skin feeling almost too tight over your bones, a pressure behind your ribs as your heart thunders, almost like you are trying so hard to chase and hold in something explosive.
“Oh, you are there, aren't you?” Anthony growls around your fingers still in his mouth, sounding wild, his motions untamed, gusting deep breaths out of his nose as he leans forward, eyes intense and glassy.
All you can do is nod, almost frantic, as if seeking permission to break, circling an abyss. Your fingers fall from his mouth as he groans loudly.
“Come for me, fiancée,” he grits out.
Unsure what that means, you just keep moving, feeling something snap inside that has you calling out and curling over, a scream escaping your lungs as your body seems to retract and explode outwards, your mind scattered to the wind as an ecstatic wave fans out from your core around your body, your muscles twitching.
You are brought back to the room by a noise he makes—hungry, gravelly, all male. As your breath returns, your eyes reopen to see him in the throes of ecstasy: an arresting sight. One curl of hair flopped over his dewy forehead, his lower lip caught under his upper teeth, eyes wild and unfocused, then screwing shut as he roars, his hand a frenzy on his cock which seems to pulse in his fist before spurting a substance in an arc part of which splashes warm across your chest, taking you by surprise.
That seems to signal he has reached a peak, too, his body wracked by a few aftershocks before he slumps back into the chair, panting, his hand slackening as he stares transfixed at the sticky streak of his cum over the upper swell of your breast.
“Are you well, husband?” you check, fascinated but concerned.
He doesn't correct the title you bestow upon him. “More than,” is his laconic, sated response, an easy smile claiming his face as he unfurls a sleeve to tenderly clean your breasts of his seed. “This is only the beginning,” he promises, cupping your cheek affectionately. “Run along and get some rest; we shall meet here again tomorrow.”
You cannot wait.
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blueparadis · 10 months
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❝ SAY YES TO ME ❞ + JING YUAN.
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CW :: female!reader, husband!jing yuan, mostly fluff, ‘baby talk’, angst and smut undertones // synopsis. Jing Yuan wants a little bundle of joy. // word count.1k
notes :: back with my bullsh!t again. atp, jing yuan and his wife has become my new song on loop. this is a sequel but you can enjoy it as a one-shot too. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED. back to blog navigation.
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Never in thousand light years Jing Yuan thought he would witness this sight: his wife sleeping on same bed with him using his arm as a pillow. Not that he has not slept with you before, he has but not like this: like fine silk threads that are too tangled to be spruced up for weaving. He swiftly moves his arm by an inch not to wake you up but enough to let you shift in sleep.
Jing Yuan’s dawing amber eyes flash on the pendant that rests on your chest and his mind is immediately occupied by the visions on that pendant kept dancing as he fucked you deep and full, along with your tits. He groans getting out of bed and spotting the nightgown you had on last night. That's odd. You are not naked now. Maybe when he was asleep you cleaned yourself up.
Jing Yuan walks to your side of the bed grazing your cheeks with the back of his palm. You look so at peace, so beautiful like this. He leans towards you blowing air into your ears, hands resting on the edge ready to catch you if you fall. A sharp intake of breath, slow blinking of heavy eyelids as a husky voice penetrates your lulled state. “Good Morning, my little sparrow.”
“Good morning ’my lion.” you barely mumble stretching out your limbs to be properly awake.
As he ties the sash of his robe you sit up, looking around your eyes fall on a carved piece of wood that seems like a bird. “What is that?” You asked briskly grabbing the piece from the side table and inspecting it. “Have you been taking Yanqing’s toys? to punish him? Again? ” Your voice spiked up at each turn of a question.
“No,” He protested immediately yet it did not satisfy you. You narrowed your gaze on him and then shifted your attention to the carved wooden piece.
“Did you make this?”
“Hmm-ummm” Jing Yuan responded. He is tapping his feet on the ground with his arms tucked across his chest. Unable to keep his bubbling thoughts to himself he blurted out “It’s for you.” You snap your eyes at him with surprise. He sat at the edge of the bed explaining further, “I — I made this for us. For you know, our baby.”
“Oh.” Your eyebrows grew closer as you looked at him holding the wooden eagle in curled palms. “oh” You realized what was going on with him all these, getting handsy with you, spending more time with Yanquig, looking at you with bedroom eyes every time you went in his quarters during his working hours and as such.
“Oh I see.” At this point you could hear every swallow of breath you took. “Will you...will you really discard me...if i don't want— You murmur with tears in your eyes, vision so blur that you can barely see his face properly. You looked down curling your palms in fists on your lap. The rough surface of the wooden eagle pinches your skin.
You remember how your father wedded another woman to produce an heir, always looked down upon since the moment your half-brother was born and when things did not go as planned he decided to use you as a weapon, to mend his torn kingdom. In your memory, your mother has always been a spectator, an audience of the sabotage your father inflicted on you, and your mother — always will be; but shall you too go down the same fate?
— or rather can't give you an heir? Tell me. Now. Will you? ”
“what? No. No. I married you because I liked you. Anyone who says otherwise is just lying. Moreover, you don't have to give me an heir.” Jing Yuan buried under the debris of some fairly tail happy endings he concocted about you crashed into pieces. Who made you like this? Who hurt you so bad that — “I just... I just want us to try for a baby. A symbol of our love.”
“symbol of our love?” You question it as if you never thought of him having any iota of affection for you. You question it as if you never considered that this marriage of convenience could offer you something more.
“yes.” Jing Yuan sternly spoke taking your hands into his. He cupped your cheeks swiping away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “You know,” he starts “I always wondered why you didn’t cry that day. . . when I brought you here for the first time. I was under the impression that girls generally cry when they have to leave their home.” He chuckles softly scooting towards you. “But i think I have an idea now. . .” he trails off. Ducking his head a little he meets your eyes that has been stilled on the crumpled bedsheets for a while now.
“I— I felt caged there. My father isn't a kind man.“ You admitted .
“Oh Trust me, I’m aware.” A cackle followed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.
“Let me think about it. I promise. I promise to think about it.” You muttered flinching at the sudden jolt that made you close your eyes. When you opened them, you were inches closer to his face, your knees touching the soft mattress as one of his thighs support you in V - position. He is deflecting the hurt, there must be some isn't it? After all, Jing Yuan did not anticipate this kind of reaction either. Sure, he expected you to throw a tantrum but not to be so dipped in dread.
“Sure.” He quips resting his chin on the apex of your cleavage. “Meanwhile. Give that to me.” He eyes the wooden piece of the eagle before continuing, “I don't want you to stress about this. We have time. We can talk about it tomorrow, the day after, or maybe never. I'll wait,”
You parted your lips to speak in hopes of soothing the hurt. If you know him well, then you can assume that he is hurt, so much so that he might have reopened some old wounds.
“I’ll wait my dear.” he beams before kissing between your collarbones. Ah! He is a walking wound now.
sequel to void.
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flowerandblood · 5 months
Text
Appearances (Oneshot)
[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]
[ warnings: incest obviously, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagements ]
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[ description: All Aemond cares about is the recognition and attention of his younger sister, but she seems to ignore him and shun him, driving him to an ever-increasing state of withdrawal and dark, grim agony. Something inside him snaps when his grandsire announces that it is time to marry her off. Sexual tension, understatements due to lack of communication, obsession. ]
This oneshot has its sequels: Experience and Refinement, but can be read as a stand-alone story.
My other works: Masterlist
_____
It seemed to him, though because of this his throat squeezed in pain and rage, that his little sister was simply afraid of him. He couldn't explain her behaviour otherwise – the way she quickly looked away, meekly lowering her eyelids adorned with her long, dark lashes, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture as she met his gaze.
She was the only one who didn't have their pearly white hair, the only one who didn't have the eye colour due to the gods.
Even when she witnessed his duels with Criston Cole, when she could see how much he had changed, how skilful he was in wielding his sword, defeating him again and again, she did not congratulate him – she turned and left the square, no longer bestowing even a single glance on him.
Confronted again with her wordless rejection, he thought in the back of his head that she was disgustingly ordinary with her dark hair and eyes inherited from their mother, that she could be the daughter of some commoner walking up to his knees in the mud feeding his pigs.
However, his great annoyance usually lasted only a moment, after which he went back to his state of despair.
He didn't follow her, wanting to spare himself this humiliation and discomfort, feeling his heart twitching in rage, in shame that he so desperately desired her attention, a few words of recognition, one warm look.
He saw her one morning through the window speaking to her servant, gesturing vigorously and laughing pearly, joyful; he thought with regret that she was consorting with people who might take advantage of her, who cared only about her position.
That if she were his he would protect her from them.
She would be safe.
She was so careless, innocent, wise and naïve at the same time, looking at him with those big dark eyes of hers when someone in her presence annoyed him, begging him with her gaze not to explode.
His tongue was like a blade, cutting anyone who approached him – she knew this and was afraid to open her mouth in front of him, imagining for sure how cruel his reaction would be.
He didn't know how to explain to her that he would never hurt her, his sweetest little sister, his greatest joy.
He watched from the distance like a cool, sinister shadow as her fingers intertwined with Helaena's, stretched out side by side on their armrests during supper, observed her leaning towards her with a sweet smile, whispering something tenderly, from which their older sister giggled quietly – there was something mythological in these scenes, making a shiver run down his spine.
He knew that they sometimes met in her chamber and even slept together, confiding in each other about their feminine affairs that were beyond his comprehension, however, he couldn't stop the feeling of burning jealousy that filled his chest when he thought of how he wished it was him she visited at night.
He thought then of how tender he would be towards her, how his arms would enclose her warm, delicate body in his tight, firm embrace, protecting her from anything that might frighten her.
He imagined how wonderful she would smell, her oils teasing his nostrils constantly, sweet and intense – looking at her figure seated next to him he felt the need to bite into her flesh like a ripe fruit.
He thought she would taste like a peach.
When at last they had finished their conversation and her beautiful, soft hand reached for her cup her gaze finally met his – her plump, glistening lips parted slightly, as if the intensity of his gaze frightened her, her breasts quivered in quick, shuddering breaths.
He felt what he saw in his breeches, his length all swollen, demanding her closeness.
Wanting to keep her attention on him he lifted the platter with her favourite dish, sweet cinnamon pie filled inside with apples; he saw that she blinked quickly, her cheeks flushed at the realisation that he knew she favoured them.
He watched her swallow with difficulty, her trembling hand set her goblet aside – his manhood throbbed hard when their fingers brushed in the air as she took the silver platter from him. She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her sweet, plump lips parted to whisper a quiet, barely audible thank you.
He leaned back again, looking at the pleasing profile of her face, her long eyelashes gleaming under the warm candlelight, a drop of sweat on her skin shimmering like a small diamond ran down her neck.
Gods, how he craved her.
He wanted to touch her, stroke her shamelessly exposed back with his large hand, rough from holding the hilt of his sword, and dig his fingertips into her warm, smooth skin, with a subconscious gesture proving to whom she belonged, that she had been his right, his delight and his duty since she was born.
Why didn't she realize this?
He watched with a squeezed throat as she took a piece of pie into her mouth, the involuntary lick of her tongue with which she brushed her lower lip focused all his attention.
The thought that this fleshy lips could in the same way clench around his painfully swollen cock, suck it and squeeze it, barely able to fit it in with her sweet cry of effort.
He grunted, looking away, feeling his length twitching and pushing against the tight material of his breeches.
She didn't look at him again that evening, absorbed in a discussion with their mother and grandfather as he drank Dornish wine, staring dully ahead, its tart aftertaste melting on his tongue.
"I spoke to your mother about the importance of slowly deciding on a suitable candidate for your husband, my love." Began their grandsire with his eyebrow raised in satisfaction, directing his words to his younger sister, who froze in mid-motion – he saw that her hands, in an involuntary reflex of terror, clamped down on the material of her gown.
She remained silent.
"She's still too young, for god's sake." He hissed out feeling rage like a burning fire pulsing through his veins. He grew hot and took another quick, deep sip from his cup, an uncomfortable silence fell around him.
Otto grunted, turning with a creak of wood in his seat, his fingers stretched out and clenched into a fist on the table top in front of him, apparently wondering why such a sudden and aggressive reaction on his part.
"I understand that as an older brother you feel responsible for her safety, however, she is now of the right age and has begun to bleed, and that's why…"
"Father." Muttered their mother, looking at him pleadingly, clearly not wanting him to bring up such intimate and sensitive topics at the table, moreover in the presence of other men.
He saw out of the corner of his eye how his sister dropped her gaze, her dark eyes shining from the tears of shame that had gathered under her lids, her brows arched in pain.
If she had only asked him to marry her he would have done so at once, freed her from this laughable obligation that her marriage to some mere lord would be.
He felt his jaw clench at the thought that no one would ever love her as devotedly, dearly, warmly as he, her blood, her protector, her brother.
"In the coming months, we would like you to meet a few candidates we consider worthy of your hand." Concluded their grandfather, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet; he felt rage filling his chest when he saw that his sister merely nodded her head, accepting her fate without a word of protest, looking down at her plate.
He got up from the table, bitter and furious, leaving the hall without a word, unable to look at her, once again letting his anger take over him, accusing her in his mind.
Her lack of reaction, her lack of opposition, when it was so obvious that her husband could only be him, him, him.
He walked into his chamber, undoing the buckles of his tunic, throwing it angrily to the ground, remaining in only his chemise and breeches. Although he did not usually do so, he reached for the wine jug and poured himself a full cup, grabbing it and sitting down with it in the chair by the fire, tilting his head back, letting out loud sigh.
He shuddered when he heard a quiet, tentative knock on his door – he ran his hand over his face, guessing it was his Queen, as usual wanting to be his voice of reason, to come to him with her stoic calm, explaining to him why he had to accept the responsibilities that faced their family, including those standing before his sister.
He didn't feel like having this discussion, however, he acknowledged with reluctance that he couldn't dismiss his own mother.
"Come in." He said coolly, staring into the flames.
He heard the creak of the door opening and closing a moment later – he glanced involuntarily over his shoulder and froze, feeling his heart stop in his throat at the sight of her, beautiful, teary-eyed, her face all flushed red with pain, her fleshy, plump lips parted in a hastened breath, her brow arched in pain.
"Lēkia (big brother)." She mumbled out with difficulty, choking on her own tears – he stood up at her words looking at her with eye wide open in shock, driven by some sudden emotion, moved that she had come to him as he had always imagined she would, vulnerable and desperate, seeking refuge and a reassurance in his arms.
"Come closer, hāedar (little sister). Come." He whispered softly, extending his hand to her in a gesture of encouragement; she moved tentatively towards him, looking up at him with her wonderfully dark, large eyes, tear drops glittering on her lashes like little stars.
He parted his lips and swallowed loudly when her smooth, warm hand touched his, thought with tenderness that compared to his she was so small, so fragile.
When he dared to lift his other hand to her cheek she twitched, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly, distrustful like a maiden who was afraid of a stranger's touch, simultaneously craving his closeness and fearing it.
He breathed quietly as she let his fingers touch and run over the wonderfully soft, firm skin of her pink cheek, her eyelids closed for a moment, a quiet, sweet sigh leaving her lips.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asked in a calm, low, trembling voice, ashamed of how scared he was of her answer, of her rejection.
She looked at him surprised – her lips parted in astonishment as if she didn't know what to reply to his words, her quivering fingers touched his hand stroking her cheek.
"I fear your harsh judgment, brother. It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience." She muttered in shame, lowering her gaze; he felt a squeeze in his throat at her words, not believing what he heard, what she confessed to him.
I am afraid of your harsh judgment, brother.
It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience.
How could she think so? Was his eternal desire, his suffering so expressed in his gaze, his facial expressions, his gestures?
Did she perceive his rage at the lack of her closeness as his constant displeasure at the sight of her?
He was horrified by how deep the misunderstanding reached – he didn't know what he should do to fix it now, to reverse it, he ran out of words that could describe what he felt.
How glad he was that she was standing before him now, that she trusted him, that he had adored her from the moment she came into the world, cherished her with a love that was warm, tender and devoted, that he believed she had been born to be his, his sweet joy, his beautiful little sister.
He swallowed loudly, parting her plump, fleshy lips with his thumb, looking at her in emotion, feeling a painful tightness in his throat.
"My sweet sister, where did these words come from? How could I feel anything but adoration towards you?" He asked softly, feeling her whole body quiver at his words – her mouth parted involuntarily, letting his thumb go deeper, between her puffy, sticky lips.
Something changed in her gaze, dreamy and warm, from which he felt heat in his chest and lower abdomen, her fingertips digging into the skin of his palm.
"Ivestragī umbagon issa (let me stay)." She whispered in a trembling, uncertain voice, and he felt his breath caught in his throat, his manhood throbbed aggressively in his breeches at the thought that she wanted to stay in his bed, in his embrace.
His surprised silence made her lower her gaze, ashamed, apparently panicking at the thought of what she had suggested, of how indecent it was, surely thinking that he would now despise her.
"Very well." He muttered quickly, not wanting her to leave his side.
She lifted her hopeful gaze to him and nodded, swallowing loudly, her cheeks pink with emotion. He rubbed his thumb over her wet skin and leaned over her placing a tender, lingering kiss on her forehead, her wonderful scent filling his lungs again.
He took her small hand in his, guiding her towards his bed, sitting down on it with his face towards her, letting her stand over him and decide what would happen next, looking at her pleasant, girlish figure.
It seemed to him that she had no idea what they were doing, whether it was right – he could see thoughts and doubts running across her face, fears of what would happen if their mother found out.
"Come. Do not fret. Your big brother would never hurt you." He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion – he was hot, his heart pounding like mad in his chest, he felt butterflies in his stomach, a sweet delight of satisfaction spread through his body.
His words emboldened her; she stepped closer to him, standing between his thighs, breathing loudly. He sighed and closed his eyes as she took his face in her soft hands, stroking it for a moment with gentle, slow movements that made his throat dry up; he felt with horror that his cock was completely hard, all swollen and throbbing.
In a gesture of desperation he snuggled into her abdomen, clasping his large hands on her back – he heard her surprised gasp, her hands froze upwards for a moment before they began in a soft, calm motion to stroke his head as if he were a small child.
He closed his eyes, snuggling into her body, the material of her gown pleasantly delicate and soft; he could feel her flesh throbbing from beneath it, her womb that could swell with his inheritance, his dragon seed that could root deep inside her if only she noticed his devotion and love, if only she understood that they had always been destined for each other.
He clenched his fingers tighter on the material of her gown when he felt her lean in, enclosing him in her embrace – his face was locked between her shoulders, her womb and her breasts, enveloping him in her warmth, her hands running down his back with such tenderness and gentleness that he closed his eyes, wanting to focus only on that feeling.
"I am terrified, lēkia." She whispered softly, her breasts trembling in a broken breath – he moved away to look at her, his hand cupped her soft, warm cheek.
"Marry me, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Marry me and I will protect you. I will caress you, adore you, hold you in my arms, I will give you everything." He said in a quivering, low voice, placing the emphasis on the last word, so final, direct, betraying how desperate he was.
She looked at him for a moment, shocked, her lips twitching in disbelief, in terror and something else that shone in her dark eyes, but which he did not comprehend.
"You don't have to do this. Sacrifice yourself for me." She mumbled with a blush of shame, as if she thought his suggestion stemmed from his logic and tactics, from helping her not to leave her home, rather than from his feelings.
"How much longer do you want to torment me? Shall I fall on my knees before you and beg?" He asked resentfully, pain emerging from his throat with every word he spoke – her eyebrows arched in disbelief, her breasts began to rise and fall rapidly in accelerated, ragged breathing.
Her face expressed that only now did she realise what he meant.
"Marry me, brother. Marry me and never leave me again." She whispered so quietly that he barely heard her – they looked at each other with wide eyes, not believing what had just left their mouths, flushes of shame and doubt burning their cheeks.
He shuddered and drew in a loud breath as she placed her hands on his shoulders and climbed tentatively into his lap, startling him completely – he felt a jolt of heat, his cock so hard that he felt like it was about to explode.
All he felt was a squeeze in his throat and the heavy pounding of his heart when her soft fingers gently grasped his hand, her face blushing with embarrassment, a sigh full of arousal escaped her lips as she pulled her gown up, slipping it slowly between her legs.
They both opened their mouths wide and gasped loudly, surprised apparently at how intimate and shameless this sensation was – he thought in disbelief that she was leaking with desire, her hot opening pulsating restlessly under his fingers, her hand pressing them harder against her quivering flesh, eager to feel him deeper.
"− please − please −" She whimpered, breathing loudly, looking at him pleadingly with her dark eyes full of tears. He stared at her in shock wondering if it was possible that he had made a mistake, that he had misjudged the situation, that contrary to what he thought, she was reciprocating his affection.
His lack of hesitation, his fingertips that dug into her fleshy, hot womanhood surprised her so much that she squealed and hopped up on his lap – he put his free arm around her and held her in place, not letting her escape.
"− easy, little dove − shhhh −" He hushed her, his two fingers sinking into her plump muscles, collecting her moisture that leaked from her thirsty, throbbing core. He stared at her, seeing the expression on her face indicating that this experience had shocked her, sweet, soft moans erupted from her puffy, glistening lips, her hips involuntarily began to move to the rhythm of his hand.
"− that's it − let me take care of you − brothers know what is good for their sisters, don't they? −" He hummed low as if he were speaking to a small child and she only nodded, clearly having trouble concentrating. He sighed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her moist, sweet lips pressed against his in a sticky, loud kiss.
He murmured into her mouth with delight, thinking with awe that indeed her skin felt like the flesh of a fruit, wet and sticky to the touch, his fingertips teasing her bud hidden between her folds. He could feel her bouncing in his lap and trembling all over, quivering in his arms as his fingers roamed around that spot, their breaths raspy and loud, full of desire.
"− y-yes − right here, lēkia − mghmm −" She babbled in between their messy, saliva-wet kisses – he dared to slip his tongue between her plump lips answered by her sweet purr of pleasure, his hand all soaked with her juices, his long, slender fingers digging into her skin in circular, sure strokes.
"− just like that − soaking wet for me − issa dōna hāedar (my sweet little sister) −" He cooed in delight, feeling his swollen length pushing impatiently against his breeches, thinking only of how wonderful it would be to feel her, to watch his fat cock open her wide, her tight folds glistening from her moisture.
"− mhm −" She hummed between passionate, deep, ferocious kisses, a combination of their lips, teeth and tongues licking against each other.
She tilted her head back and moaned loudly as his fingers slowly made their way inside her, exploring her throbbing, swollen core – his thumb rubbed her her pearl, his fingertips searched intensely for the spot he'd read so much about in books, and when he found it her walls began to clench around him in convulsions, a pathetic whimper escaping her lips.
"− o-oh gods, brother, yes, please, please, please −" She mewled desperately, clasping her hands in his long hair, rising and falling on his fingers with a loud click of her moisture – he grasped the nape of her neck with his free hand and pulled her close, forcing her lips, swollen from his caresses, to join his in sticky, hot kiss.
"− come on, little one − I can feel you are close − thaaat's it, there we go −" He gasped out into her throat when a powerful shudder ran through her body, her moans of delight erupting from her mouth again and again as her hot muscles began to clench greedily around his fingers, sucking him inside, his hand all sticky with her fulfilment.
He was panting loudly along with her, cuddling her quivering body, thinking of how wonderfully warm and fleshy her insides were, how perfectly she would squeeze his cock once he could possess her whole, his sweet wife, filling her to the brim with his seed every night.
He intended to perform his marital duty with passionate devotion.
"− such a good girl − you did so well for me, dōna hāedar −" He praised her, wanting to reassure and soothe her, stroking her soft hair, pressing her face to the hollow of his neck, his hand between her thighs cupped over her pulsing, moist womanhood.
The smell of her wetness, of her flesh, of her sex filled his entire lungs, so lewd, ungodly and wonderfully carnal – his mouth placed involuntarily little butterfly kisses on her beautiful face, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted in delight and disbelief, her hands clenched on the material of his chemise.
He grasped her fingers in his and lifted them to his lips, kissing them with tenderness and reverence as his other hand stroked unashamedly her plump bare buttock hidden beneath the material of her gown.
"Now it's my turn."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses
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Bad PR-Jordan Li Fic
A/N: I saw someone post about needing a fic about Jordan being in a relationship where they're "unmarketable" and haven't been able to get the idea out of my head since. This is written with a black reader in mind. I also have a sequel in mind if anyone wants it.
Word Count: 3739
Warnings: Some sensuality and swearing.
I don't claim to own any characters or property from Gen V or The Boys. All credit to the original gif creators.
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  Silence was something that I always thought I longed for. Every day for the past twenty years, there was noise, whether it was someone (usually multiple) talking, music blasting, cars going by, or screaming. By now, I thought I would have learned how to tune it out and focus on what was most important: save the little kids from a burning school, study as hard as I could to get into GOD U, and manipulate social media algorithms so much it would make tech experts’ heads spin.
   But, I hadn’t. Then, I thought I got used to the noise, the demands to take pictures with total strangers, the background noise of a song I was doing a TikTok challenge to, Liza, my Vought-assigned PR rep, and my parents insisting on what I should wear, and the constant buzzing in the back of my head that my ability caused. However, as I laid on Jordan’s bed, listening to them ramble about Brink, I didn’t mind the noise so much.
  “I mean, he’s kind of a mad genius but for good,” Jordan stated. Then, they turned to me with a sheepish smile on their face. “Sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I?”
  I shook my head. “No, no, it’s alright. Brink’s brilliant and it’s amazing that you’re his mentee.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows. “Besides, you’re pretty cute when you’re excited.”
  Jordan rolled their eyes and slowly made their way towards me, stopping right at the foot of their bed. “Only when I’m excited?”
  “Shut up, you know you always look good,” I teased.
   They playfully flipped their hair and batted their eyes. “Well, we can’t all have a glam squad on call so I appreciate it.”
   I scoffed, rose to my knees, and playfully pushed their shoulder only for them to switch to their masculine form and grab my hand. “That’s not fair and I didn’t even ask for them, my parents and Liza insisted on it when I got in.”
   Jordan nodded but I could tell they weren’t listening since their eyes were on my lips. “I don’t feel like talking anymore.”
   Something about their deeper masculine voice sent tingles down my spine and made my stomach feel fuzzy. Then again, they easily caused the same effect in both forms. My breath caught in my throat as soon as our lips touched, and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I tried to relax in their gentle but firm grip as I wrapped my hands around their neck, but it was easier said than done.
   Suddenly, my back was against their bed and the kissing got more fervent. Jordan slipped their tongue down my throat and trailed one of their hands down my leg. I shivered as they pulled my leg up around their hip and pressed further into me.
   “I should’ve known this is what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out,” I breathed after pulling away for a second.
   “I had good intentions but you kept screwing me with your eyes,” Jordan huffed back.
   “No, I---” Jordan cut me off, switching to their feminine form and kissing my jaw, working their way down my neck. “Not…fair.”
   One of their hands slowly started trailing up under my (their) sweatshirt and I tried to stifle my giggles at the soft touch. After a couple of seconds, I couldn’t help but start giggling and covered my face when Jordan paused their actions and looked up at me.
   “Still ticklish?” Jordan teased.
   “Shut up, it’s your fault since they're your hands,” I groaned through another laugh.
   Jordan smirked at me and ran their hands down my waist, gently tapping my sides, causing more laughter on my end. I tried to reach for their hands to stop them but they were too good at dodging me. At some point during my laughter, my phone started ringing.
    “Ignore it,” Jordan whined as they pressed their head against my stomach, their big brown eyes somehow looking bigger and browner than usual.
   “I can’t,” I whined back as I pulled away from them and grabbed my phone from my desk. “It’s Liza, I have to answer.”
    Jordan rolled their eyes. “That bitch has the worst timing.”
   “She might not be able to help it.” I quickly answered the phone. “Hey, Liza.”
   “Y/N, I’m on campus and we need to talk ASAP. Meet me outside the Crimefighting building in five,” Liza rattled off.
   “Oh, sure, what’s it about?” I asked.
   “I’ll tell you when I see you.”
   She clicked off and I turned to Jordan, who was much less than pleased.
  “Let me guess, you have to go,” they said.
   “I’m sorry, it sounded important,” I said as I started grabbing my stuff from around their room. “I’ll try to make it quick.”
   “No, don’t worry about it.” They pushed themselves off the bed and stood in front of me, gently grabbing my hands in theirs. “It’s your career and I’m proud of you. I knew what I was getting into when the Cyclone became my girlfriend.”
    I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh, don’t say it like that. But I appreciate you and I will show you as much later.” I quickly kissed them and grabbed my shoes. Just as I was about to leave, I paused at something in their closet. “Is that my jacket?”
   Jordan shook their head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
   I snatched the item from the closet and held it out. “Jordan, you’re going to try to convince me that you’re into vintage Yves Saint Laurent?”
       “Your taste rubbed off on me,” they said with a shrug.
       “I’m flattered.” I put it back in their closet.  
        “By the way, do you know where my black hoodie went?”
       “See you later!”
        About four and a half minutes later, I was sitting at an outdoor table with Liza and my parents. Despite the summer heat, Liza was wearing a navy skirt suit, and her graying black hair was tied into a severe bun on the top of her head. She was typing on two different phones and her laptop simultaneously, deep blue eyes never staying on anything too long. My mom, who sat on my right, smiled kindly.
        “So, Y/N, how does it feel to be a junior?” she asked.
        “Great, Mom. I thought I told you and Dad that you didn’t have to hover this much since I am a junior now,” I said, glancing at my dad who was on my other side.
        “We’re not hovering, it’s been two days since we dropped you off,” Dad insisted. “Besides, this is about business.”
          “Wha---”
           “Oh my gosh, is that Y/N Y/L/N?” Someone squealed behind me.
          “Show time,” I sighed.
          The “someone” was actually two someones, a pair of what looked like freshmen. One was a tall, pretty brunette in a white graphic tee and matching mini skirt and the other was an equally pretty, slightly shorter brunette wearing jean shorts and Vans. The taller one held her V-Phone with a death grip.
           “Can we take a picture with you?” The taller one asked.
           “Of course.” I stood from my seat and made my way over to them.
           “I can take it.” But before my mom could stand, Liza shot up from her seat, grabbed the phone, and ushered us closer together.
           “Okay, Y/N in the middle, Tall Girl on the left, Short One on the right,” Liza instructed, eyes never looking up from the camera.
          “It’s Ashley,” the short one said.
          “Smile!”
          I did as I was told and the girls were walking away before I could even say an obligatory, “No problem.”
            Both my parents smiled as I sat back down.
            “It’s great to see that you’re still popular after all this time,” Dad said, his eyes hidden behind his tinted sunglasses.
             “As she should be. Y/N has thirty million followers across all her social media and she does amazing in the Midwest and the South, both tough demographics for young black women,” Liza stated.
            “Thanks, Liza,” I said, mindlessly playing with the ends of my butterfly locs. “So, you mentioned you were coming but left out my parents.”
            At this, Liza finally paused from typing and looked up at me. She slowly set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on top of her pale hands. My head involuntarily started shaking from side to side and Liza lifted one of her hands.
            “Let me speak first, Y/N, and then we can argue about it,” Liza stated.
            “The last time you said that, I ended up almost getting mauled by a dog during an animal shelter livestream,” I hissed.
             “Well, the dog had a serious history of trauma,” Liza insisted.
             “You didn’t inform me of that before insisting I cuddle with it for the camera!”
              “It was a learning lesson: you are fantastic under pressure.”
               I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. “So, what is this about?”
              Liza assumed her previous “Serious business” pose. “Like I was saying, you’re doing fantastic numbers. That last TikTok you and Cate did hit a hundred million views in less than twenty-four hours.”
            “The ‘Rover’ challenge wasn’t that hard,” I commented.
             “That’s amazing!” Mom practically cheered.
             “That’s my girl,” Dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
              I smiled despite the strong sense that a “but” was coming.
             “However,” Liza continued.
              Uh oh.
             “My job is to do everything in my power to make sure everyone associates Y/N Y/L/N and Cyclone with beauty, intelligence, grace, taste, and power. So, we are a little concerned about Jordan.”
              Immediately, my shoulders tensed and I gritted my teeth. “Who exactly is ‘we’?” I glanced at my parents.
                Mom’s eyes widened and I had no idea what Dad was doing.
                “No, of course not, Sweetie, we love Jordan. They have been a fantastic influence on you,” Mom insisted.
               I could feel my face warm up about what had transpired with Jordan a few minutes ago. I doubt that would fall under “good influence”, or any time we went out with the others. 
               “And they give you a run for your money when it comes to combat. You need someone challenging like them. Plus, that Luke boy isn’t bad either,” Dad added.
               As their words sunk in, I had a strange feeling that my parents were there to lessen a Vought-sized blow. My suspicions were confirmed when Liza’s lips pressed more firmly together and she was glancing at one of her phones.
               “Are you reading a script right now?” I seethed.
               Liza’s head shot up and she shook her head. “No, no, Y/N, not at all. Just some notes.” She quickly regrouped. “I understand that you’re happy and you’re probably having some fantastic sex right now----”
               “Liza!” I interrupted, praying that the ground would open and swallow me whole.
               Suddenly, Dad’s arm was back at his side, and Mom was suddenly very captivated by a pair of seniors skateboarding past.
               “But the facts are that a bi-gender Asian supe is not marketable in the Deep South or the Midwest,” Liza said. “I am not shaming Jordan for who they are but, my job is to sustain your relatable-but-unattainable brand and not let anything get in the way of it.”
              “You’re saying my partner is a threat to my career?” I asked, my voice much hollower than I intended.
               “Potentially. Now, I have come up with a very good alternative.” Liza turned her laptop so it was facing my parents and me. On it was a picture of Andre and some clips of us on social media. “Andre Anderson tested very well. Our focus group members responded positively to the black power couple aesthetic.”
             “We’ve met him before, he’s nice,” Mom offered.
              “He’s cool and I’ve met his dad and I could see us all getting along,” Dad mentioned.
               My head was swirling with so many thoughts that I was convinced I was either going to be overwhelmed by them or find one that was coherent enough to state. My mouth settled on, “It’s the twenty-first century and you’re all telling me I have to break up with my partner because of demographics? Jordan’s an amazing supe and they’re so smart, it’s scary. They can do---will do so much good and the only thing you care about is optics?”
               Mom gently touched my arm. “Y/N, please, calm down.”
When I glanced around, I noticed that several Vought-A-Burger wrappers, a couple of cigarettes, and a few panicked squirrels and rabbits were swirling around the table. Quickly, I released the small animals and put the trash in the nearby receptacle.
              “Sorry about that,” I muttered, eyeing Liza.
               “I understand that you have strong feelings for Jordan but, think about it. With the right moves, you could be living in The Tower with the legends of your generation. Sure, you’re number three at GOD U right now, but this status can easily go away. You’ve worked your entire life to be the hero that little black girls everywhere look up to. Don’t take Cyclone away from them before she even starts,” Liza warned.
               I desperately wanted to say something snarky, but my mind was blank. The only thing I could sense was my throat tightening up and my eyes beginning to well. I brushed a loc out of my face to play it off and tried to gain my thoughts.
              “How much time do I have before I make a decision?” I asked.
              “Twenty-four hours. I’ll be looking out for your call, text, email, or video call,” Liza stated as she started to pack her things.
                My parents stood and Mom gave me one of her warm hugs and Dad pulled me to his side.
              “It will be okay, Y/N,” he whispered.
               I swallowed the giant lump in my throat to thank him and then insisted on walking them back to their car.
              A few hours later, Elle Woods was sobbing in the fanciest restaurant in California while I carefully placed my baking pan in the oven. As much as I wanted to sob, I had no time for tears, I had to think. The thinking led me to have so many circular thoughts that my head spun and I resorted to baking and watching my favorite movie.
              If Elle could solve a murder case and exonerate her client as a first-year law student, I should be able to figure out this PR mess. On the one hand, I was happier with Jordan than I’ve ever been with anyone. On the other hand, my dreams and my family’s position were hanging by a thread.
            Maybe it was better that I channeled my energy into baking cupcakes.
            I exhaled a small gust of wind to clear the bowls and utensils from the counter and place them in the dishwasher. Then, I focused on pushing multiple gusts of wind from my hands to clean the counters and wash the dishes. By the time I was done, I was exhausted and flopped on my couch to mindlessly watch the movie.
            Unfortunately, the bright and colorful backdrop of Elle’s LSAT studying montage did nothing to take my mind off my dilemma. All I could think about was Jordan’s face when I told them. Breaking up with them would be like shooting a puppy’s mom in front of the puppy and making it watch it bleed out.
               How would I tell them anyway? Hey, babe, I’m sorry I had to run out on us almost hooking up to meet with Liza and my parents. Funny story, they want me to break up with you so that I have a shot at a career and date Andre instead. See you for that morning lecture?
             Knock! Knock! Knock!
            The sound jolted me from my thoughts, and I pushed myself off the couch to answer it. “Rufus, if you try to get me into your room again, I swear to----” I cut myself off at the sight of Jordan, in their feminine form, staring back at me.
            They wore a navy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Also, their cheeks were more flushed than usual and they smelled like their sandalwood body wash, meaning they had probably stopped by the gym recently.
             “Is Rufus bothering you again? I’ll go murder him right now,” Jordan said.
              I quickly grabbed their wrist. “No, I appreciate the thought but I’m fine, besides, I can take care of myself.”
             “I know but I can’t help but worry.”
              A strange warm, tingling sensation ran its way from the center of my chest throughout the rest of my body. I was sure that if someone listened closely enough, they would hear me buzzing.
             I stepped aside to let Jordan in and leaned against the door to close it. “So, what brings you by?”
            They wandered over to my couch, sat down, and grabbed my phone off the coffee table. “Because you haven’t been answering my texts or calls.”
             “Crap, I am so sorry, Jordan, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
             Jordan glanced around my dorm. “I can see that.” They sniffed the air. “Legally Blonde and you’re baking, what happened at the meeting?” 
            Of course, Jordan would cut straight to the point. Usually, this kind of banter was pleasant but my stomach was in knots as Liza’s words and my parents’ expressions replayed in my mind.
           “What? I can’t bake and watch a comfort movie after a last-minute PR meeting?” I asked rhetorically, crossing the room to my desk to start organizing my textbooks.
           “Don’t try to deflect, Y/N. Tell me what happened.” Their voice was gentle but firm and I knew that they were not going to let me out of this conversation.
           So, I set Brink’s latest book down and sat across from Jordan on my tangerine accent chair. I prayed that I would find the right words to say before blurting them out. As soon as I made eye contact with them, my chest tightened.
          “Well, Liza surprised me by having my parents join us,” I started.
           Jordan raised their eyebrows. “Shit, this is serious.”
           “Uh-huh. Liza said that my numbers are doing great and I’m on track for a promising career.”
           “And?”
           I gulped. “And…she’s concerned that my personal choices might get in the way of that.”
          Jordan frowned. “Personal choices? Every college kid known to man has done illicit substances and drank alcohol underage. You’ve never been caught doing any of that anyway.”
        “You’re right but she wasn’t talking about partying; she was talking about us.”
         As soon as the bomb rolled off my tongue, I saw its impact on Jordan, from the flashing expressions of confusion and anger to the clenching of their fists. I just wanted to make it stop.
        “What?”
         As I rambled Liza’s reasoning, I could sense the hurt and animosity flowing from Jordan. Once I finished, the timer for the cupcakes went off and I jumped up to grab them. I could have cried at the momentary escape as I set them on the counter to cool.
        “She weaponized your desire to be a positive role model for other girls who look like you to screw you over,” Jordan said slowly.
           I wiped my hands on my sweatpants. “Liza’s doing her job, babe, and she’s looking at all angles, including how it could impact my goals.” I returned to my seat and folded my hands in my lap.
          “Her job is to make you choose between your relationship and your career?” Jordan asked. “That’s bullshit, this whole thing is.”
           “I know, Jordan, trust me, I know, I almost started a small tornado when she said it.”
            Jordan eyed me closely for a second. “What else did she say?”
           “What?”
           “I can tell you’re holding back, Y/N. Whatever else you have to say, it can’t be any worse.”
           They might have just jinxed that.
           “Liza thinks that Andre would be a better fit for me because a bunch of people like the idea of a black power couple.”
           Jordan had two angry responses: the first was they would attempt to tear down anything and everything around them unless consoled. The second was they would become unresponsive and deal with all their rage internally. That night, I got the second one. Their eyes were hollow and the color drained from their face. My eyes welled up as I hoped for them to start screaming, swearing, or something, but nothing happened.
         “But I don’t want to do it, Jordan, I think it’s so stupid.” I knelt in front of them, grabbed my phone from their hands, and set it aside to hold them. “My parents don’t even really agree with Liza because they know you and they think you’re awesome.”
        “What do you think?” they muttered.
        “Like I said, I think it’s stupid. We can figure something else out. Liza can spin us as the ultimate diverse power couple, huh?” I did my best to smile as widely as I could. “Come on, let’s forget about this. I made white velvet cupcakes with cream cheese filling. You can be my first taste tester once they cool.”
         Things would work out, they had to. We would figure something out and survive our junior year at GOD U with little to no incidents. Suddenly, Jordan’s hands slipped from my grasp and they shifted to their masculine form.
         “What if it doesn’t work out?” Jordan whispered.
          “What do you mean?” I replied.
         “I mean, you don’t necessarily have to be a supe but, I know that you’re scared for your parents. Your success has helped them a lot and it could destroy them if your reputation takes a hit,” they said. “And I’ve seen how little black girls light up when they see you now and how passionate you are about helping them and, I know that you’re just getting started and I don’t want to be in the way.”          “Jordan…”
         “I don’t want to hold you back anymore, Y/N,” they muttered.
         Their words sunk deep into my core like a boulder and took all my words with it. I wanted to tell them that they could never hold me back and that they made me a better super, a better person. But all I could do was watch as they stood and walked out of my dorm, taking our one and a half year relationship with them.
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rockpapertheodore · 1 year
Text
I cannot tell you how frustrated I am with the anti-math movement because despite what anyone thinks in high-school, you use math constantly every day in ways the very, like, sexless? way school teaches math will never prepare you for.
If you want to run a business? Inventory costs, storage and logistics, labour and wages, bills.
You have any customer service job? You are making change. You are making SO much change. All the time. Sometimes the computer works and you're safe, but sometimes your entire point of sale is beholden to the whims of a third party system with a web server of your entire inventory on the other side of the state and it's gone down. Again. So u gotta do all the math on paper because you're still open because it's an inconvenience, not a reason to stop business.
Baking.
Building something? Gotta do some dang ol' physics and engineering if u wanna do it efficiently and with minimal expenses.
Sports people are doing so much subconscious math all the time, without ever knowing it, and being aware of all the ways geometry (if ur playing a stick-and-ball game like baseball or cricket or pool) or physics (literally every sport)
I'm not gonna lie, I'm not sure where I was going with this beyond "im so annoyed with the incompetent presentation of math in US public schools." Please understand I'm not trying to shame anyone, and I am not judging anyone for struggling with math. Math is an arcane wizard language invented to quantify and understand the functions of the world around us. The human brain is a pleasure-seeking monkey with astronomical pattern-recognition abilities, and some beautiful autist in the past went "hey actually what if I could measure everything?" And math started.
I'm not even particularly good at any discipline beyond general mathematics because I've been making change for customers since I was 6.
Also its really fun making ur bosses sweat when you piece together the profit margins on accident because you 'tism for a second and guesstimate the cost of buying in the product and margin of profit based upon sale price and volume of sales.
Anyway learn and understand just enough to survive, and then just enough more to make your employers sweat when you can explain to your coworkers approximately how much the store is making.
Shoutout to my discalculic homies, I don't know how to make math that doesn't suck yet, but I'll do my damndest to help u out when they create a sequel to numbers that makes sense.
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Text
Two detectives in your bed
Self-Aware! Edogawa Ranpo x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu
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Description: You wanted to take a nap. But, there are two detectives in your bed. And all of your blankets and pillows are gone.
Fluff. Silly short fic.
Sequel to Delayed package
Warning: OOC. English is my second language.
______
You just wanted to take a nap.
You just wanted to lay down on your bed, cover yourself with the blanket, put your head on a pillow and have a nice nap. Because you deserved this nap. You are working hard in the university. And you are helping with the house chores. You deserved to have a small rest.
The plan was simple. Go into your room - Lay down on the bed - Cover yourself with the blanket - Lay your head on a pillow - Sleep.
Pretty simple plan, right?
Well, wrong! You were wrong!
You shake your head, hoping, that you were just too tired and started seeing things. It must be a mistake and your room should be empty.
You opened your eyes and stare on your bed.
They were still there.
Dazai Osamu and Ranpo Edogawa were laying in your bed. Ranpo was lying across the bed, while Dazai was laying on his side, looking at you with a sly grin.
It's not like you were against their company. Or against anyone's company. It wasn't even the problem, that they were in your room. Or in your bed.
You knew that some of BSD Cast find your room shooting. They love spending time here. They like staying here. And you allowed them to go into your room, while you weren't there.
A few times you returned to your room, finding Lucy reading a book here, or Kunikida, taking notes in his notebook, or Tetchou taking a nap in your bed.
Of course, they have some restrictions. They weren't allowed to search through the drawers, and they must ask if they want to take something from your room to theirs, be it a textbook or a laptop. And, as long as these rules are followed, there were no problems.
So, you weren't angry, that Ranpo and Dazai got into your room when you weren't here. You were angry, that your blanket and pillow were gone.
And, if Ranpo's and Dazai's sly smirks imply something, that they were the reason, they are gone.
You frowned and looked at two 'intruders'.
"What are you two doing in my bed?"
Ranpo rolls on his side and turn his head in your detection. He smirked.
"Oh, you know, just hanging around. Waiting for you."
You rolled your eyes. There is no Purple Sigh on your door, so these two aren't in distress. And it doesn't explain the missing blanket and pillow.
"Why? And where are my blanket and pillow?"
Ranpo's smirk became bigger.
"Somewhere. I wonder where... Do you know where they are, Dazai?"
Dazai chuckled and looked at your direction. He looked as sly as Ranpo.
"Have no idea, Ranpo."
Ranpo hummed.
"Oh, I remember! Kids were building a pillow fort? I recall they were asking for a permission to took blankets and pillows."
You rub your temples. You recall, how Sakura asked your permission to take some blankets and pillows for the pillow fort. Okay, you can do this. It's not like kids took all your blankets and pillows.
You start searching through your shelves, trying to find a blanket and a pillow. You must have a few more somewhere there.
During your search, you felt Ranpo's and Dazai's gazes on you.
Ranpo yawned and looked at Dazai.
"Dazai, have you heard about what happened yesterday? You see, Fyodor and Nikolai were visiting [Y/N]'s old house, trying to retrieve something..."
You let out a nervous whine and feel, like you were burning up. Your cheeks and ears were on fire. You try to focus on anything else, not paying attention to Ranpo.
"... And when they got back home..."
Where are the blankets and pillows?
"... We didn't see [Y/N], Fyodor and Nikolai for the rest of the day and night..."
Maybe they are in this wardrobe?
"... And [Y/N] appeared only at the morning..."
Why you can't find blankets and pillows?!
"... Do you think you can explain, what happened, [Y/N]?"
You turned back and looked at two detectives on your bed. Dazai and Ranpo both looked like two cats, that ate all sour cream in the house. Your face still felt like it was on fire.
You breathe in and out.
"Where... Where are the rest..."
Ranpo grinned and finally opened his eyes.
"Kids wanted to make a huge pillow fort. They took all blankets in the house."
What? Were kids trying to make a fort that is big enough to live in? The idea of going to them and took one pillow and blanket was rejected immediately. It's still daytime, let the kids play.
But, you want to be nice and cozy while taking a nap.
Two detectives noticed your face expression. Dazai dramatically raise both of his hands up.
"Oh, My Dear Iris Flower, don't worry, you won't be cold or uncomfortable! I will be your blanket and Ranpo..."
What? A blanket?
Ranpo waves his hand.
"And I will be your pillow"
You will repeat. What? A pillow?
You blinked owlishly. Dazai open his arms, inviting you to hug him.
"Don't be shy, [Y/N]! Come here and hug me. Look, that I am soft and warm. A perfect blanket."
Ranpo lift his shirt up, showing his stomach.
"And my belly is soft. Softer, than any pillow you will ever have."
Ranpo opened his eyes slightly.
"And, both Dazai and I are much more good-looking than any... print on a pillow case you could find."
YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT BSD CAST WERE SELF-AWARE, WHEN YOU ORDER TWO DAKIMAKURAS WITH FYODOR AND NIKOLAI ALMOST A YEAR AGO!
AND, IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT, THAT PACKAGE GOT DELAYED, AND, WHEN IT FINALLY ARRIVED, YOU NOT ONLY FORGET WHAT SHOULD BE INSIDE, BUT ASKED FYODOR AND NIKOLAI TO GET IT FROM YOUR PREVIOUS NEIGHBORS!
AND, YOU DIDN'T KNOW, THAT YOU WERE SHOP'S 5000 CLIENT AND, AS A PRESENT, YOU GET PILLOW CASES FOR DAKIMAKURAS WITH DIFFERENT BSD CHARACTERS!
You feel a chill running down your spine. Yesterday, you spent half of the day and all night, cuddling Fyodor and Nikolai. Well, to be more specific, you were wrapped into a blanket and stuck between Fyodor and Nikolai, that wanted to show you, that they are better than any pillow. And prettier. And clingier. It was the best cuddles you ever had. Almost. All their teasing were unbearable!
You don't want to know, how Ranpo and Dazai learn about the pillows and pillow cases. Either, because they are Dazai and Ranpo. Or because Fyodor and Nikolai told them. It doesn't matter right now.
...
You probably could take a nap in the living room. On the couch. With no pillows and blankets.
Or, you can give up and have a nap with Ranpo and Dazai. And, once again, cuddled for the rest of the day.
Ranpo, whose eyes were still opened, laughed.
"There are no free blankets or pillows in the house. Your nap on the couch will be cold. Besides," Ranpo had a tight grin on his face. "Is it really that bad to sleep with us?"
You massage your temples. It wasn't bad, just... They will never let you live the dakimakuras incident down, right?
Dazai give you the best puppy dog eyes he can.
"Are you tired, Dear [Y/N]?" Dazai cooed, opening his arms for a hug again. "Take a nap. You will feel better!"
You give up and plopped down on your bed, rolled to Dazai and put your head on Ranpo's stomach.
He was soft and warm. You still can't believe, that BSD Gang were real, breathing, living people.
Dazai nested on top of you, pinning your hands between his chest and yours. Dazai's face pressed against the crook of your neck.
Ranpo's fingers started running through your hair.
"Aren't we better, than any pillow or blanket you will ever have? Or any pillow case?"
You let out a tiny groan.
"I already explained it, that I forgot about the package! It took almost a year to be delivered!"
Ranpo chuckled and Dazai rub his nose against your throat.
"Dear Iris Flower, don't be embarrassed. You gift us a great opportunity to cuddle with you more!"
You rolled your eyes.
"Yea, it's not like we don't snuggle almost every day"
Ranpo and Dazai laugh a little. Dazai kissed the tip of your nose.
"Well, I still want more cuddles!"
Ranpo poked your cheek.
"So am I."
You mumble something, but close your eyes and doze off. Dazai and Ranpo were great as a blanket and pillow.
Right before falling in Dream Kingdom, you heard Ranpo's voice.
"Sleep tight, [Y/N]. Have a good dreams."
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fan-goddess · 1 year
Note
Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*
Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)
Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms
Word count: 2.6K
Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,
Taglist: @blue-serendipity
The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One
—————
If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.
Alys’ death could’ve though.
When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.
He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.
That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.
Dear Aemond,
Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.
From, your wife
From your former wife
Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.
He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.
Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.
He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.
That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.
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Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.
You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.
Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…
There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.
Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…
———
It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.
Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.
He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.
Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.
Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.
He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.
He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.
Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…
———
“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.
“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“
“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.
“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”
“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”
“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.
“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.
“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”
“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.
Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,
I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.
Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.
From, Aemond Targaryen
You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.
You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.
———
When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.
He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.
When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for
It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?
Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.
“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.
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miyacults · 4 months
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begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please
a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.
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violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.
( ft. suguru geto. )
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Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
< part one.
wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)
cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~
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From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.
It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.
White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.
Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.
But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.
“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.
“I took care of the scum,”
“And didn’t invite?”
Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.
“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”
There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.
“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”
How couldn’t he after what he did to you?
The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.
Until it wasn’t.
That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.
He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.
Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.
Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.
Like they have devoted themselves to do.
Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.
He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.
He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.
He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.
He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.
He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.
He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.
But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.
Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.
Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
“Sugu?”
He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.
“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”
Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.
Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.
If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.
But Suguru is different, he thinks.
“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”
“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”
Suguru raises an eyebrow.
“And who’s fault is that, huh?”
“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”
Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.
“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”
“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”
“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”
Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.
And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.
“So needy, my baby is so needy,”
“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.
“Do you want Daddy?”
“Yeah, I do,” you snort.
“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”
“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.
He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.
“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.
“How mean, ‘Toru.”
“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”
“Mean. You’re lying to me.”
Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.
And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.
“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”
“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”
But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.
And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.
Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.
“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”
“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”
You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.
“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”
Suguru nods.
“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”
Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.
“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”
You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.
“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”
“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”
You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.
“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.
“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”
The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.
Maybe you can.
“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.
“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”
It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.
“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.
“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”
You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”
“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.
And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.
“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”
“Shh, princess,”
Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.
You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.
“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”
“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”
A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.
“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”
“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.
“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”
You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.
Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.
“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”
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xuhuihuis · 7 months
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The Sequel | Na Jaemin + Lee Jeno
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warnings: ghostface!jeno and jaemin, phone sex operator, sub!reader, dollification, knife play, masterbation, degradation, stalker?
An alert popped up on your computer that someone had joined the call. Jeno hadn’t said anything about someone else joining the call; that’s when you started to panic. Mind wandering, thinking it could be anyone in the world that has found the link to the call. Taking a deep breath before looking at the screen to see who it really was. A man dressed in all black, leaning back in his chair, dressed in a ghostface mask, filled your screen. Even under his mask, you could tell that he was smirking as he saw the panic on your face through the eye holes of the mask.
 Toned muscles flexed under his compression shirt as he folded his arms over his chest, flexing the muscles in his upper body and thick arms. You didn’t know where to look with two men on your screen; it was a dream come true. Feeling yourself already starting to get wet, rubbing your thighs together for some friction as your eyes fawn his thick thighs. It was obvious that he spent hours in the gym to achieve this goal, loving how every girl that he worked with drooled over his god-like body. 
‘Someone is happy to see me.'
Jaemin chuckled at the way you were getting carried away, foaming at the mouth over his body. The teasing tone was already having an effect on you; this was going to be a long night. He stretched his legs out in front of him, letting you have a better view of his bulge under his cargo. Fuck this call. Aching and begging for Jaemin to be in the room with you, not over a call. 
‘Are you going to behave for us? You know what happens when you don’t, baby girl.
Jaemin got close to the screen as he talked to you, waiting for your reply holding his mask down not letting you see his face underneath. You nodded your head vigorously before he sat back in his chair and started to play with a blade, catching all of your attention. Biting your bottom lip, trying to hold the moan back, but it failed. Both men heard you.
‘Did we say you could speak? You know good girls don’t speak without permission 
Jeno’s voice boomed through the speakers of your laptop, making fear rush through your veins. No one knew what he was going to do next; he was unpredictable, but that’s what made him so popular. You may look scared, but you were turned on, only wanting more. Heartbeat thumping in your ears fills the silent room.
‘Open your legs.’
Parting your legs, letting both men see your dripping core—all for the men sitting on the other side of the screen, letting them do anything they pleased. Wetness dripped down onto the bed below you trying to hide from them but it was too late. Cheeks warm with arousal watching the screen though eyelashes coated in mascara. Make-up soon to be ruined by your tears falling down your cheeks. 
‘Go on, you know you want to…’ 
Pussy glistening in the faux light from the laptop ghosting your fingers over your clit bucking your hips up into nothing. Both of the men had the perfect angle to watch you from licking their lips only dreaming of what they would actually do to you if you were in the room with them. Taking turns to have their fingers in you knuckle deep whilst the other holds your shaking body close, wiping your tears away. 
The sounds of your wet pussy filled the room as your fingers rubbed your clit in circles gasping for air as the pleasure started to build up. Craning your neck back into the pillow, closing your eyes tightly as the numb feeling in your legs started. Forgetting about the men on the other side of the screen until you made eye contact with them once again. 
‘Thought you were meant to stay in character darling’
Jaemin had a way with words but you loved it, he could say one sentence to you leaving you gasping. Watching the way the muscles in Jeno’s arms flexed even under his gloves you could see the way his veins were flexing as he played with the blade in his hand. Jeno saw the way your eyes lit up as he played with the blade.
‘Aww honey, need me to hold this pretty thing to your neck?’
You are glad you didn’t look yourself in the mirror at the time as you looked so fucked out listening to Jeno. Agreeing to anything he was saying to you at this point. He had you right where he wanted, on edge begging him for more. Jeno and Jaemin made eye contact agreeing on their next move on you. They knew you were going to agree with anything they had to ask you now. 
‘Princess?’
Looking up at the screen through your eyelashes, eyes glossy holding back tears from falling. Make-up now messed up when the two men haven’t even started to play with you yet. Your heart was thumping against your chest waiting on him saying something, the anticipation was killing you. 
‘How about we play a game of hide and seek? Give you five minutes to try and find us, if you don’t we get to fuck you how we want all night’
Your heart sank. How did they know where you lived? Do they already know you? How are they getting into your house? The idea did sound so hot though, running after two men that could have you screaming. Both ways. Letting out a breathy moan as you agreed to it erupts a chuckle from both men. Thinking about it, the room they were taking the call in looked familiar.
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highvern · 8 months
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Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II [morning after]
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader
Genre: fluff, idiots in love
Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, confessions, hand holding and smooches
Length: ~1k
Note: Sequel to Drunk Goggles ! its short but i will probably keep updating/editing it because im a perfectionist and never happy with any of my writing. I have two more drafts for them that I'm editing right now and then I'll probably focus on something new! In other news, Mingyu makes me wanna slut him out put a ring on his finger so bad
When morning comes, you wake to the soft light of dawn gently illuminating your bedroom and a nasty headache. You brave opening your eyes to search for Mingyu, easily locating his large form as he lays on his back on the other side of the bed. Flailing across the short distance between you, you burrow down into his chest and throw a leg over his hips to steal some of his heat against the morning chill. Finger tips trace gentle circles against the smooth skin of his tummy, letting you enjoying the rise and fall of his chest.
Like you were thrown in an ice bath, everything from last night comes racing forward. You remember it all. How you both stayed within a foot radius of one another all night, clinging to each other in the sweltering heat of the club. All the brushes of lips against skin, becoming more and more daring as the night dragged on. Worst of all, right before you passed out, how you whispered all your feelings into his shoulder and sealed them with a kiss.
Today. You think. You need to talk to Mingyu today.
But as he continues to snore quietly above you, you're lulled back to sleep and away from the ocean of nerves that threatens to drown you.
-
The second time you wake is to a hand gently carding through your hair, carefully working away the tangles from tossing and turning through the night. Another hand is tracing the ridges and valleys of your knuckles on your hand laid across his sternum. With a deep inhale, you stretch against Mingyu to let him know you're awake, yawning as you blink against the sun.
"Sorry," He croaks. "didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine," you assure, voice still thick with sleep.
“We should talk.” He sighs 
“Okay.” You whisper.
“I–,” Mingyu starts, the pep talk he gave himself for the past thirty minutes dissolving on his tongue. He swallows in an attempt to get his nerve back but you beat him to the punch.
“Ireallylikeyou.”
The silence is deafening. 
You both knew. Painfully aware of your own feelings as well as each other's. The issue time and time again wasn’t the lack of knowledge of how the other felt but the dread that if you said something and it didn’t work out you’d lose each other forever. But after last night neither of you care to keep up the charade. Mingyu wants to call you his girlfriend, take you to dinner with his family, hold your hand in public and parade you around for everyone to see how lucky he is. And you're in the same exact boat. You want to tell anyone who will listen about how amazing he is, not just as Mingyu your friend but as Mingyu your boyfriend; let him be the first person you see in the morning and last at night; let all the fantasies that play in a loop in your head become a reality.
“I like you too.” He finally breathes, weight lifted off his shoulders. 
It's fascinating how such life altering confessions don't change anything as much as you think it will. For months, you thought that the day you both confessed would make the world start spinning in reverse or the sun would fall out of the sky. But the room is as calm as it was before you shared your thoughts. Sheets ruffling gently to the swirl of the overhead fan droning above you. Outside, cars bustle on the street while the family of birds living in the tree next to your window sing their morning hymn. If you strain your ears then you can hear your downstairs neighbors returning from their morning walk with their yappy dog. Today is like every other Saturday morning but nothing like them at the same time.
“Yeah?” You smile, unable to look at him just yet. Instead you turn your face into his pec, trying to contain the giddiness bubbling under your skin like sea foam.
“Yeah.” Mingyu responds, sighing in relief. He wraps his arms around you snuggly, holding you close while his heart drums wildly in his chest.
When Mingyu decides to rest his lips against your hair, you giggle like a schoolgirl. It can’t be helped. You just confessed to Mingyu like you were two sixteen year olds and it makes you giddy. He likes you. 
“What’s so funny?”
“You like me.” You sing, smile blinding.
Your head is turning towards Mingyu’s, catching the way his eyes crinkle and mouth twists in delight. He’s laughing as well, flustered by the morning’s developments.
“You like me too!” Mingyu accuses.
“I know.” Your face softens as you lose your breath. "Isn't it great?"
“So," he starts, suddenly bashful under your gaze. "Does this mean I can count breakfast today as our first date?”
God, he’s so cute it hurts.
“You absolutely can.” 
The smiles threatening to split both of your faces in half make kissing difficult but you figure it out pretty quickly.
-
When you arrive at the entrance of the farmers market hours later, Ms. Kwon observes you and Mingyu as you stroll to her booth. She notes the way your hands are tangled together, faces bright red, sneaking shy glances at each other. Interesting, she thinks.
Testing the waters, she asks if your boyfriend is going to buy the usual bouquet of wildflowers he gets you every Saturday. You don’t rebuke her use of the word "boyfriend" this time, instead sharing a small yes. When Mingyu responds with an even more ridiculously happy expression than the one he strode in with, she hides a knowing smile. Mr. Lee, who sells fresh pastries further down the market, owes her dinner.
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