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hellsslibrary · 1 year

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Hi...um oh shit. This's my first request, so sorry if it's bad... Anyway, can you write headcanons on the demon brothers going into their first heat with their alpha(Male reader)?

(If you can't it's not a problem😁)

❀Headcanons about the demon brothers and their first heat with Alpha!Male!MC❀

DNI: minors.

!!Warnings: omegaverse, heat, breeding kink, implied poly!Mc, breeding kink, praise, Dom!Lucifer, possessiveness, lactation(Lucifer), pet play(Satan), P*ss kink(Mammon), Marking, somnophilia(Belphie), Beel want to be a mother, demonic form(Levi, Belphie), Masochist Satan, Chest play(Asmo), kind of Daddy kink(?) (Asmo).

Lucifer

Probably the rarest and fastest heats in the family. Like, he just drinks pills and forgets about these heats, without even paying attention to it. But sometimes he gets too much work or stress from his brothers and forgets to take those pills and then the heat starts (literally and figuratively).

Also, probably someone who wouldn't want you to impregnate him. That's why he always takes birth control pills. He already has 6 children who annoy him every day, he doesn't need another one.

Crazy possessive, like CRAZY. He gets so clingy and jealous, he won't let you out of his nest for more than 10 minutes. And thank God, his heats lasts only 3-4 days...

Get ready to leave his nest after his heat, covered in hickeys, bites, scratches, bruises and, in general, in the marks of Lucifer. (He certainly apologizes, but not sincerely)

I guess he's very dominant in heat, so if you wanted a sub Luci ... In heat, no way.

He will just ride on your cock until he squeezes all your cum out of you and then he will keep your knot inside, not letting you out.

In general, his behavior is not much different during heat, except that he becomes even more affectionate than usual.

For example, does he see that you are hurt by his prints or are you tired? He will immediately stop doing it and calm you down (Though he won't get off your cock, nah).

I also think he's lactating during heat and his breasts swell for obvious reasons... If you're into lactation, he might even breastfeed you, lol.

Mammon

So... Probably the second most frequent and longest heat after Beel. Like, they happen often and last about a week, sometimes two.

You know right away that he's in heat when he starts texting you with whining requests, and if you're lucky, even naked photos of him.

In general, ready to let you out of his nest, but only if you come running after his first message with a request like "Mc, I want your cock again, so get your ass over here."

Becomes extremely whiny and sensitive, he can come even through some kind of petting. Literally every touch you make drives him to hell(or heaven,idk).

Probably would like you to impregnate him, but would not want children, because he is simply not ready for this, he is too insecure.

Wants you to mark him. It doesn't matter how. Just do it, he loves your marks, smell, whatever. He must know that he is yours.

He also becomes extremely honest as his tsundere nature is washed away immediately by the fact that he can't think straight and he just keeps praising you and telling you how good you are.

(Piss kink!!) Probably starting to get into piss kink, yes (if he wasn't into it in the first place, which I'm not sure about). You just know... His smell on you or your smell on him, no matter what, turns him on, and if it's such a strong smell, even more so.

Leviathan

His heat is not frequent and not fast. In general, they are quite stable and he even adjusts his game mode for them.

He becomes even more submissive than he is. I don't know how that's possible given it's literally canon, but... Just imagine having a handsome, shy, whiny boy for about 5 days that you can do whatever you want with as long as you fuck him.

He is 999 percent for fertilization. There's something so exciting about having your sperm in it, but knowing that it's literally your child/children in it... It's just awesome.

I think the sins of all the brothers in general just go to the peak during their heats, so... Damn it, he won't let you out of it, your knot MUST be in it and only in it... For a maximum of 5 minutes if your natural needs play out.

Mmm, more likely he'll be in his demon form because he's more comfortable in it and he just can't contain it, so... Pull his tail, bite and pull back his scales a bit, pet/pull/scratch him horns or stroke his double cock, he'll explode from it, hehe.

Satan

The most stable boy. Heats are about 4-5 days and always start on schedule, just wonderful and cool.

Becomes an extreme masochist during his heats, he wants you to be extremely strong and hard dominating as much as you can be.

He will also probably allow and even offer to put him on a leash and fuck him, pulling on it, ahem.

His pet play skyrockets, he becomes extremely helpful to you. You are his master and he is your GOOD kitten, so why shouldn't he follow your every order, hmm?

He will calmly let you out of the nest during heats, without even worrying, but only if it is no more than a couple of hours, it becomes difficult for him without you.

As for fertilization, he has a neutral opinion. Of course, driven by instinct, he can and will want your sperm in him. But, if you ask his sober opinion, he does not feel anything for the children. Do you want kids? Okay, fertilize him. Do not want? Okay, he'll take birth control.

Also, I suppose he is very quiet during sex or some hot moments in general, even during heat, but if you still agree to be a hard dominant for him ... Oh, Mother of God, buy earplugs for all the brothers, but better take them on vacation.

He doesn't tend to nest too often, by the way. It's just that, given how messy his room is, cleaning it all up would be such a torture.

And a random thought in the end. Loves when you eat it before you insert it. Of course, he's already wet, but he just loves the feel of your tongue in him, it just drives him crazy.

Asmodeus

Well... The most unstable heat. They always happen differently. Sometimes often, sometimes not. Sometimes it lasts a long time, sometimes it lasts a very short time. In general, everything is difficult.

It has the strongest smell of all. So strong that it can be felt even outside the home. Its sweet, floral scent is simply mind-blowing.

And it also releases an extremely high amount of natural lubrication, like seriously. By the end of his heat, the sheets will be just soaking wet.

He is flattered by the idea of babysitting his and your common children, but he completely rejects the idea of pregnancy. Stretch marks, a huge belly, a fatter build, pallor, nausea, and so on, he will just look unattractive to himself.

Also, calmly let you out of his nest. He could easily go a few hours on his own without your cock in him, although he would certainly prefer it to be you.

He has the most sensitive chest of the brothers. He just squeals with pleasure when you suck/lick/nibble on his nipples or massage/squeeze/rub his chest.

He will probably post a photo after heat, where he will be with his face fucked up on wet sheets with marks on his body and with a caption under the photo like "You know, it's so good to have a daddy in two ways." If you don't understand my chic humor, I'm sorry.

Beelzebub

Oh, in general, the most frequent and long heats. They last about 2 weeks, by the way, so good luck, mate. And usually they occur at the same time with Belphegor.

He is the biggest fan of breeding kink, on par with Levi. It's so sweet to have kids by you that he can take care of and eat with or play sports with (or whatever, he's not a picky boy)!

His appetite increases even more (And somewhere in the distance, one Lucifer sighs heavily due to the increase in food bills). Well, it's true that he also has an increased appetite for sex, so he'll just keep doing it until he squeezes all the juice out of you.

His chest swells, by the way, during heats. So... Man boobs, my kittens, man boobs.

He praises you very much during heats, and sex in general. He just loves everything you do and it brings him such great pleasure, he can't help but praise your actions.

In general, praise him in return. He's going to be so embarrassed about it, it's just a miracle.

Releases you during his heat from his nest freely. Although, after that, you will probably immediately jump into Belphegor's nest and start working with him.

In general, he has a strange thing about the fact that you call him something that is related to motherhood Mom/Mommy/Mother and so on, he blushes and is shy from this, imagining that he really can become a mother.

Belphegor

All his heats passes in a dream, like real. He wakes up for about two hours a day to eat and that's it.

So, if you have somnophilia, this is the right time for you, sir. You can just fuck him in almost any position and no one will tell you in denial.

He's in his demonic form, one hundred percent sure of it. So you can play with his horns or tail, maybe he will purr (or even moo like a cow, lol).

He doesn't really care if you impregnate him or not. He doesn't want to deal with all these pregnancy-related issues, but he'll be happy to have kids with you if you want.

He moans funny during heats. Some kind of hoarse and high moans and whining, when he lazily shakes his head in a dream, but still does not wake up.

Well, there's actually a chance he'll wake up. He just might want to eat, which is logical, and if you catch that moment and don't fuck his twin at that moment, you'll hear the most wonderful moan you've ever heard.

Also, if he wakes up, he'll get extremely territorial and leave his fingernail scratches on you to let everyone else know you were with him (and Beel, of course).

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navybrat817 · 9 months

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He's wondering when you're gonna stop doing your boring work and do him instead

Of course, he is. 😏

Clocking Out

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky makes it difficult for you to get any work done.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, implied smutty times, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

A/N: Late submission for Week 7 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents ! Prompt - "Who's this?". ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. But thanks to @rookthorne for the inspiration. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You narrowed your eyes in concentration on your laptop screen, the clicking of your keyboard the only sound in your in-home office. You typically worked with some kind of background noise, whether it be music or even the television at a low volume. It helped the day go by faster. At some point though, Bucky ventured in and shut your playlist off to ask some random question.

"Who's this?" he asked as he shoved his phone in your face and blocked your view of the monitor. "And what is FYP? What the hell does that mean?"

You had to giggle after a moment. Your boyfriend had a habit of interrupting you while you worked to get some form of attention. It happened more times than you could count and you were lucky you got any work done at all when he was home. He told you in passing that after being alone for so long that he wanted to soak up every moment he could with you.

I can't get mad when he puts it that way.

"It means 'For You Page' and I have no clue who that is," you answered, gently pushing his hand away so you could get back to typing. "Why are you on TikTok, old man?"

"Why are you?" he asked, taking a seat on the loveseat near your desk. "Is this what you look at to get inspiration for your smut or whatever it is that you call it?"

"Hey!" you said, pushing away from your desk to turn and face him. "I write stories, thank you very much. Some of them just happen to include smut and there is nothing wrong with that."

Bucky had an all too smug expression on his face when he leaned back against the cushion and widened his massive thighs. He took up almost the entire two-seater sofa with his size. The gorgeous bastard finished up his workout earlier and didn't bother getting fully dressed after his shower. Just a new pair of sweatpants and no shirt, his long hair still slightly damp and daring you to run his fingers through it.

Showing off his broad torso like a harlot.

"Sorry. You're right. You do tell stories and they are wonderful," he said, holding up his hands on surrender. His steel blue eyes had a hint of playfulness as he nodded to your laptop. "You almost done with your 'porn with plot' or should I come back later?"

You rolled your eyes as you spun away from him and pulled yourself back to your desk. "You're impossible. Turn my music back on and go back to watching TikTok videos."

"Or you could take a break and ride me," he suggested so casually your fingers froze on the keyboard. "Give you the motivation you need to finish."

With a defiant lift of your chin, you went back to typing. You did like his idea and it wouldn't be the first time you stopped writing to have Bucky pull an orgasm or two from you. The only reason you got a bigger desk was so he could fit under it. The image of him nearly getting stuck under your old desk brought a smile to your face.

It also caused a tingling sensation between your legs when you remembered just how deep he stabbed his tongue into your aching pussy.

"You can't ignore me, doll. Look at you. Already distracted and shifting in your chair," he said, his voice low. He knew exactly how it affected you. "So get over here."

Nope. His thick cock can wait for me to take a ride.

"Bet you're not even working," he accused. It wasn't true. There were words on the screen. "You're typing just to look busy when we both know you're getting your seat wet through your clothes."

"Don't you have work to do yourself?" you asked incredulously, refusing to look over at him. If you did, you'd go right to him and he'd win. Both of you would win, but that wasn't the point. He cut into your work time when you couldn't cut into his.

It's not like I can show up in the middle of a mission and demand to suck his cock.

"If by 'work' you mean your delicious cunt, yeah. I have a lot of work to do," he said. The unsubtle man he was, you knew he was about two seconds away from taking himself out and stroking his perfect cock. Anyone who said perfection didn't exist hadn't slept with Bucky Barnes. "I'll do overtime and you can pay me in orgasms."

Your head fell back against your chair with a groan. "Where is your off switch?"

"No off switch around you, doll. Only an on switch. You're lucky I don't knock stuff off the end tables since I'm practically a walking hard-on around you."

The sincerity in his statement had you beaming and laughing all at once. You wondered if something in the serum sent his libido into overdrive or if it was you who brought that side of him out. It did wonders for your self-esteem because no matter how you looked, he gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to grace this planet.

A small break wouldn't hurt.

"If I step away for a few minutes," you began as you stared at the ceiling. "You have to transcribe the next few paragraphs for me so I can lay down and recover."

"Deal," he said, leaning over and gripping the chair handle to turn you toward him. "But I'm warning you. If you dirty talk, I'm gonna get hard all over again and we'll be right back where we started."

"It can't be any worse than the time you had me in your lap," you said as you lifted your head. He couldn't stop himself from running his hands along your body or kissing your neck. And that was before he had you warm his cock. "Don't look so smug. You owe me an orgasm."

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked.

Lucky for you, Bucky always delivered on his promises.

We can't resist Bucky, can we? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #biteofcherry #hotbuckysummer2023

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fillinforlater · 1 year

Text

Eleven to One: Hate You Lots

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon

Length: 7440 words

Tags: Daddy kink, perverted family, nudist kink, submission, kneeling, good girls, blow job, double blow job, deepthroating, face fuck, training, cursing, public, undressing, degradation, insulting, hate sex, someone calls you out on your weird behavior, sex in front of others, hair pulling, riding, bad sex, Chaewon is bad at sex, mentions of 2Kim, body licking, passionate kissing, maybe mind break?, cowgirl, fingering, dangerous sex, Yujin sells out her friend kekw

TW: hate sex, cursing, extreme Daddy kinks; Disclaimer: no, I don't believe you can turn gay people straight, ffs, I hope no one thinks that, and if you do, kindly turn on your brain or go away lol

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing

Inspiration: The big horny; also, someone has to oppose this crazy family kink/idea xD

(A/N: editing is not that great as is my health rn. Stay safe and healthy out there, everyone. Let's continue this fucked up saga with a crazy part and multiple scenes ;D)

“Daddy, you need to hurry up!”

Yujin stands in the kitchen door and bops up and down like an excited puppy. She’d surely swing her tail around wildly if she were a dog, but that is besides the point. You’re still tired from stressful phone calls the night before. Doesn’t help that it’s still very early in the morning. If the sun hasn’t bothered showing up yet, why should you.

"Do we have to go watch this performance? They film these things so early all the time," you groan in annoyance and sip at your coffee.

"Daddy, please?” Yujin begs with folded hands and sparkling eyes. “It will be so nice to see Chaewon and Sakura perform again. I really like their new song and you will too!"

When Yujin plays nice, it means she really wants something. This is close to a girl asking her Daddy for something��this comes too close to all the family stuff she has you fantasizing about lately. Try not to spit out your coffee and frantically wave your hand.

"Fine, we'll go. But I expect some pleasure when we get home,” you add with raised eyebrows and Yujin winks. “I have yet to meet Chaewon. Everyone describes her as lovable."

"Chaewon-unnie won't disappoint you. She sure is loveable. However, I think that she is showing new sides to herself."

"Sure, whatever. I'll set Hyewon up to go to the meeting then."

"Thank you so much, Daddy."

"Now look for a nice dress," you say, eyes roaming Yujin’s pajama-covered curves, "Only I get to see you like this."

"Of course, Daddy. I always wear outfits just for you… I think you'll like today's too."

Yujin starts to undress. The dress is still in her room, but the pajamas fall off her slender figure already. You can never get enough of this extraordinary sight. You might be a bit pressed for time, but as you look over your naked Yujin, your lust gets the better of you.

"I want you now, baby girl. Call for Minju too. No reason you two shouldn't be sucking my cock right now."

Yujin turns around on her heel and immediately kneels on the floor. Her hands rest idly on her lap and she gives you a hellish, seductive grin before calling out her former bandmates name:

"Minju-unnie~ come here a-s-a-p."

You hear steps coming from further down the floor. They are not normal steps, but rather from someone who was caught by surprise and stumbles towards you. A faint creak, Minju rushes from the bathroom to you and she quickly stops right next to Yujin. You eye the fresh make-up on her cheeks and light lipstick on her luscious lips. Sadly, you can't eye her naked body in all its glory, because she tries to cover most of it with her hands.

"Y-yes, Yujinie?" Minju asks shyly, trying not to stare down at Yujin’s immaculate body too much.

"I think Daddy wants something~"

Yujin's eyes narrow and she begins to stick out her tongue to show lots of drool pooling on it. She gradually crawls towards you, sticking out her bubble butt and shaking with blatant want. She is giving it her all to be desirable, submissive and still punishable.

"Wh-what does Daddy need?" Minju asks kindly and turns to you. Make-up or not, her cheeks are rosy from embarrassment. She is still, even after a couple of weeks, not used to being in full nude before you, although she committed so willingly after you made her yours.

You grab the hand covering Minju's pussy while Yujin finally reaches your tight pants and rubs her cheek onto the bulge with a purr. Yujin's fingers play with your zipper while yours play with Minju's clit. You flick it lightly once, then rougher. Tears glisten and sparkle in narrow eyes, and you look deeply into the mess Minju is slowly becoming. However, her arm still crosses her chest and hides her breasts.

"Daddy needs you, Minju, because you are his. I think we agreed on this, so show me your amazing body."

Her labia is wet to the touch, thus inserting a finger is easy. Minju tenses up for a second, but when you kiss her cheek, she relaxes and you plunge two more fingers into her. She screams out, but you plug her mouth the same way: three digits, hilt deep in a wet hole of hers. It’s like pushing all the right buttons to deactivate Minju’s resolve. Her arm falls from her chest. Finally, she is a bare feast for you.

"You can do better, Minmin," you say with a slight sigh of disappointment at the end. Your fingers move in and out of Minju faster and faster. In the meantime, Yujin takes a long ass time to free your length. It's probably because you are focused not on her but on teaching Minju a lesson, but this is no reason to keep you waiting. Yujin has no right to deny you your pleasure, yet she still finds ways to subtly tease you.

Remove your fingers from Minju's mouth and let her moan and whimper freely as she begins to grind on your deeply buried digits that twist and turn inside her hot walls. With your now free hand, you pull out your cock, much to Yujin's surprise, and slap it across her face. It's a shame that you have to give them a small punishment before you can get to the main course, but it's also not bad. Training puppies is more fun than you ever thought.

"I-I'm so-sorry, Daddy," Minju cries out and falls to her knees. It’s the only way to escape your fingers, however, it’s not a way to escape your rule. You immediately slap her face with your cock as well, until she finally sticks out her tongue, which Yujin instinctively does. The younger one has already stained the floor with her runny saliva, so before she ruins it entirely, you put your cock on her lips. You could call it a plug.

"Lube it up, bitch! Show me what your mouth is really useful for,” you groan at Yujin, then shift your attention to Minju. "Minmin, I called you here because I wanted you to join us, but you still have to learn a lot. I pray for your sake that you don’t stretch my patience intentionally. Get some saliva from Yujin and help her lube it up—or go back to your room!

Oh, and Yujin: if you want to go to Chaewon's performance, you'll be a good girl, right?"

"Yes, Daddy!" the younger shouts.

"N-no, Daddy," her unnie whimpers cutely.

Two very different answers, but both are exactly what you want to hear. Minju makes a cute face while gathering saliva in her mouth and gets ready to kiss your cockhead. When Yujin turns to her however, ready to give some of her drool, Minju becomes a flushing mess. In panic, she misses Yujin’s lips and releases her collected drool all over her friend's cheek.

Guess her feelings are quite strong for her ex-group members.

Minju's saliva trails down Yujin's face and chin and the latter can't help but giggle. Not in her usual cute and cheerful way, but in a lewd, horny way. Yujin grabs Minju's tomato-colored head and finds her lips in a furious make-out session. The klutz is wide eyed at first, but she melts into Yujin, the Dongsaeng she so loves and her eyelids fall shut. Dams break and the flow of drool is like a raging torrent from one mouth to the other. You line yourself up right next to it.

Yujin frees herself and releases everything from her mouth. A skilled tongue wets almost your entire manhood, from your base to all over your balls and underside. Minju follows suit and her cute mouth releases a waterfall as well. It covers your tip and the remaining dry skin without fail. They both begin to spread and massage the lubricant all over your rigid shaft and full balls, making you groan deeply. Fucking finally.

"Minju, you look so cock drunk," you mock her. "I bet you are staining the floor with your stupidly sweet juices already."

"Swowwy, Daddy,” she babbles with no regard for manners as her mouth is stuffed with your rod.

"Are you sorry though?"

Yujin gives a strong suck on your balls; it’s more like she leaves a message. She is fed up with being ignored. Her lips pucker around every one of your most sensitive parts. She knows your cock inside out, of course. After all, it has been inside of her more time than she has had promotions—just how she likes it.

You snarl nonetheless.

You don't let Minju answer as you push your tip deeper into her mouth, letting her suck it gently. You pet Yujin's head to signify you knew she was there. A surprise that it works. You really did break her back there. No bratty words, no teasing pout, just diligent stimulation of her Daddy’s dick.

Minju's cock sucking is always a sloppy affair. Her feisty face with glassy orbs is always a wonderful sight as she tries to shove it all inside her. She is still lacking however. You are sure this will not tip you over the edge, although she is able to extract precum from your slit with her quick tongue. The biggest issue is that she is scared to take the massive thing, shove it down her throat herself. Minju is not on the same sluttiness level as her Dongsaeng, who would gladly fuck herself on you until tears fall down—for a meal, for shoes, for a meeting with her Unnies.

"Fuck, it's not enough," you groan in slight anger and slide your hand from Yujin's sweaty hair to Minju's brown locks. Grip them tightly to force her head down your phallus. Her forehead crashes onto your pelvis. Minju chokes, you groan, Yujin gasps.

"Minmin… you need more training. I'm losing patience, fuck,” you curse. This should have been an easy and casual affair, breezy and mindless but it takes effort to train Minju. If she wasn't so cute with a fuckable body, your hospitality would certainly expire at some point. Now, she is basically family, and you are willing to help her be a good girl, a good slut. Family, s-sure.

Doesn’t matter if you call yourself family, you push deeper against her throat anyways. She is here for your use. Yujin meanwhile keeps trying to put your balls in her mouth, down her throat almost, as if her life depends on it. Yujin is learning to share, with her mommies, with her sister, with her family. Not again, fucking family.

"Daddy, if she can't take it, then I'm ready. Ready to fulfill your desire."

Yujin’s purr pulls you out of your disturbingly hot thoughts. She pouts on your balls, her desperately pleading, yet sharp eyes watching you from below. She massages your thighs with her soft fingers, slobbers all over your balls and moans in her most delicate voice. Yujin doesn't only want attention, she wants to win and is determined to be the perfect, disgustingly drooling slut for you. Rivalry between siblings?

"Shut up! You better help your unnie get better at it. Maybe you'll get some reward, but that is out of your control."

This is the moment where she would usually roll her eyes, but Yujin is a changed girl now—or is she hiding her annoyance? Either way, Yujin backs off behind Minju, who chokes on your cock whenever you pull her closer to your crotch. Tears and sweat of her struggle cover her face, yet she still doesn’t get it.

Your grip on Minju's hair loosens when Yujin's fingers seductively crawl up Minju's neck to the top of her head. The older girl gets goosebumps and wide eyes at the sensation and then shrieks. Yujin has her long, healthy locks in a tight grip.

"Unnie," she says in a bitchy and unamused tone, something very rare these days. "I really love you, but you're doing this wrong. Let me help."

What follows somewhat negates the fact that Yujin just told Minju that she loves her. With unexpected roughness, she starts to slam down the elders face onto your pelvis. Minju's forehead forcefully touches your abdomen and your dick breaks every barrier in her throat to reach deep into her. She gargles on her own spit for a second and chokes like it would actually save her from the massiveness blocking her air flow.

"Like. This. Unnie. Down."

Yujin pulls Minju back at her hair and with each new word she mimics a deep throating motion only a goddess of cocksucking could manage—and Minju is definitely no goddess at it yet. She tries her best to take it, to go at the pace herself, but Yujin just goes faster. It's impossible for her to adapt to the speed, but for you, this struggle is an even greater joy.

"Oh God, this is good. Actually fucking good!"

You groan and smile with the confidence of someone who has earned this and the more you think about it, the further you feel validated. Your hands cannot remain idle, they want to reach for Minju's hair. Yujin however gives you no reason to do so, and so you dig your fingers into hers, those perfect brown strands on this perfect bitch.

"Train her well, Yujin."

"I will, Daddy."

"Good. Open your mouth."

Yujin smiles greedily, the cock hungriness of a million horny sluts in her eyes. Her grip on Minju loosens and you give the beautiful, ruined klutz a chance to breathe. Minju falls to the floor coughing and spitting, her makeup everywhere but their original position.

Your girlfriend's mouth opens invitingly. Your length disappears inside her and you burst at the distinctive, perfect touch of her tongue. Yujin's eyes are bright and wide open as she receives the gift of validation, of triumph over your adoration for Minju. More than a mouthful of cum, enough to satisfy her hunger and encourage her cock drunkness.

"You need more training," you calmly say to Minju while patting Yujin as she cleans your dick. "Otherwise Daddy will be disappointed."

"I... I understand, Daddy. D-do you stil—”

"Don't ask such a question,” you interrupt her firmly, but with more care and love than you ever did before. “I'm sure you will do good next time, hm?"

"Y-yes, Daddy."

No matter how rich you are, you cannot control time. Hours fly by and the meet-up you promised Yujin to go to arrives faster than you wanted. You had to control yourself after seeing your girlfriend's outfit, that amazing dress showing off her body incredibly well. It looked as hot as her bare body, maybe even better in a way.

Control over your urges becomes better with boring people around you. The directors, cameramen and managers get easily fooled by Yujin's act. Yujin remains professional, no one can assume any kind of special or weird relationship between the two of you. A simple meeting, they don’t even ask you a single question. Is it really this easy to get behind the scenes of such a shoot?

After the boring introductions are over, you get ready for new, more fun ones.

First off is Sakura. The second she sees Yujin and you exit the conference room with all the managers, she leaves her bandmates behind and runs over. Her upper body is covered by a pink blanket to keep her warm, but below it you see hints of a white stage outfit. Baggy trousers and some kind of crop top.

The smaller Sakura stands before her Dongsaeng and gets in position to bow down, but Yujin quickly embraces her. With glee she shouts:

"Unnie, I missed you so much! It's been so long."

"Yujinnie, were you always this tall?"

"Yah! You sound like a grandma."

The two of them start to giggle and you give them a weak smile. The others should not catch you being suspicious, so you look around the vast hall. A very simplistic set, mostly colored in gray. In between the expensive camera equipment and handful of staff, you eye another person clothed in white. Your jaw begins to fall as you inspect the revealing outfit and incredible body more and more. This is definitely sluttier than anything Yujin ever wore in any of her stages.

You cough and look back down to your girlfriend who is still giggling and chatting with Sakura. The two of them are holding hands and you see Yujin's eyes sparkle in happiness. Good for her, definitely, but your cockhead is already urging you to think of someone else. Who is wearing this loose, insane collection of white stripes barely hiding anything?

"Oh shoot, we're about to perform," Sakura gasps and quickly hugs Yujin. Before she leaves, she gives you an unmistakable wink and a classic, beautiful smile, "Thank you for coming!"

"Unnie, fighting!"

"Glad to see you enjoying yourself," you whisper, but Yujin puts a finger on your lips.

"You don't want to miss this. I'm pretty sure Chaewon will be to your liking."

“Impurities / show you my impurities.”

"Cut!” the director shouts as the girl group members still stand there, frozen in the final pose of their dance. “Well done! We'll wrap things up for today."

Everyone cheers and claps, the shoot went excellent. Yujin besides you joins in as well, even the last random staff sitting in the corner applauds.

Everyone except you. You are completely feral. All because of this one fucking girl, with her short black hair in stark contrast to her slutty white outfit. All because she has to look so fucking hot while dancing this already provocative dance. All because of her fucking impurities. You almost lose your cool and reach for Yujin's ass, but this is not the time, not the place, not even for this. Fucking Chaewon, fuck.

Chaewon walks over and screeches when she sees her beloved Dongsaeng. Unlike with Sakura, the two of them immediately crash into one another and exchange hugs, jokes and all the banter they can come up with. This time, you are unable to look away for long. Chaewon's ass has its own gravity. It pulls your gaze back every time you notice how long you've been staring.

"Unnie, you are so good! And you look so good! This is going to be such a hit," Yujin babbles.

"You are one to talk," Chaewon responds in delight. "You have grown to become a beautiful woman. I bet you will make someone really happy one day."

Yujin grins and whispers directly into Chaewon's ear. From your point of view, it's impossible to understand anything, let alone read her lips. After a short while, Chaewon backs out of the hug. The situation has grown tense, cold even, but it gets even colder for you when Chaewon suddenly walks up to you. She stares—not into your eyes, but straight to your soul.

"You fucking pig."

"Excuse me?"

"You are disgusting. I swear to God, if you do anything fucked up... I'm going to fuck you up so bad, until you—ugh!"

Chaewon’s sentence is cut off by a disgusted gag. She stomps away quickly, her face filled with despise and harsh anger. The sway of her hips is even stronger than before now, which disturbs your feelings. Confusion and horniness force you to stand and ogle her bubble butt while your heart cannot comprehend these conflicting emotions inside you.

"What the fuck was that?" you whisper to Yujin, as she guides you out of the studio. "What the hell did you tell her that she would get this pissed?"

"Look," Yujin says, her tone far from playful and bratty, much closer to serious and guilty. "I knew that you would get the hots for her, but I didn't know that she would hate the idea so much."

"Which idea? What did you tell her, Yujin?"

The two of you flee towards your car to get some actual privacy. You can't raise your voice to her in public after all, although now might be the perfect time. Depending on what she just told Chaewon, literally everything could be in deep shit.

"Chill, Daddy, I told her that you are my boyfriend and that we'd like to have a threesome with her. Nothing too crazy, just something to sooth her in."

"And?"

"I-I mentioned the Daddy kink… and a b-bit more, you-you know?"

You sigh and put on your seatbelt. The engine roars and you start to race towards your apartment. Whatever Yujin means by ‘a bit more’, it made Chaewon seriously angry, which could make things bad for you quickly. Your mind tries to find a good response or solution to it, at the very least, you should find a punishment for Yujin that suits her stupid behavior.

A red light makes you hit the breaks. Yujin's hand immediately travels to your thigh and massages it. Coldly, you slap it away.

"Get in the backseat. I need to find a solution to this. And you better help me think, slut."

Yujin obediently climbs over the center console and positions herself in the middle of the back row. Through the rearview mirror, you see her in her gorgeous black dress with those sexy black stockings and her ruinable hair, make-up, face. You click your tongue as the lights turn green.

"Daddy, I'm sorry,” Yujin stutters to defend herself. “To-to be honest, I was convinced Chaewon—l-look, I relied on her being needy and desperate. A-and because you are so hot, I thought she was down for it."

"Undress."

"Wh-what."

"You heard me right, bitch. Get out of that dress. Slowly. I want to see what I own."

Yujin nods hesitantly. Her fingers fidget at the silky hem of her expensive dress and she begins to slowly pull up. Goosebumps of fear and excitement spread over her pale skin. She knows that those side windows are tainted, but the front is of course still wide open. Anyone could catch the unlikely, yet possible glimpse of her bare body if she continues this.

"Go on, " you snark in excessive annoyance, "Either give me a solution or get rid of that dress."

"I-I, " Yujin stutters. You hit the breaks at another red light and stare through the mirror. Your eyes lock and before you can order her to go full nude, she jumps in realization.

"Minju! I-I know a way, Daddy!"

"What?"

"Uhm... Minju is, if you remember from our punishment game, ve-very much into Chaewon, a-and as far as I know, Chaewon feels the same."

"So?" you say impatiently, fingers tipping the top of the steering wheel. The light turns green. You hit the throttle and as the Mercedes accelerates, you can hear Yujin's plan play out in your head. Guess she won't have to drive around naked.

At least not this time.

"Step 1: Get Minju and Chaewon to be on a call."

The plan starts off easy. All it takes for this to happen is for you and Minju to be home at the same time, which happens quite frankly. After all, Minju is not an actively training idol anymore and Hyewon is doing a good job right now, so you can stay at home with no worries. Now you only need to find a fitting moment.

Minju walks into the kitchen. Some sixth sense inside your crotch tells you to take the opportunity. Right now, now or never, a perfect time frame, whatever you may call it, it's enough to make you jump up and follow the naked beauty. Minju reaches for one of the upper shelves, a cookie box on top of it. She looks adorable, trying to grasp the metal frame of the colorful box. You grab her waist from behind and sit her on the opposite counter top. For no reason, you press a kiss on her lips.

"Huh? D-Daddy?"

"Fuck, you are beautiful. Uhm, did you want the cookies."

"Y-yeah, i-if I may."

"Of course."

You grab one of them and give it to her. As she begins to happily much on it, you give her her cellphone.

"Can you call Chaewon?"

"Chaewon-unnie? Why?"

"Well... I'm pretty sure she misses you. And it's shortly after noon, so she’s probably on a break right now."

You press your hands into Minju's thighs, massaging them, spreading them, while getting close to her face and whispering:

"Don't you want to see her again? Maybe set up a meeting to kiss?"

Minju blushes. She tries to hide her face, an odd visual as her whole body is in full nude and her pussy more and more visible from your spreading her legs. Nonetheless, she still searches for Chaewon's number and calls her the second the last cookie crumbs tumble down her throat.

"Unnie! This is Minju! Yes. Yes, I miss you too. We haven't talked in forever."

The two of them engage in a lively conversation immediately. Minju is engaged, distracted, as you predicted. Her beautiful smile and giggles as she gets teased are so endearing, you feel a little bad for using her.

"Step 2: Let Chaewon hear how good you make Minju feel."

Minju's legs are spread. She is not completely oblivious to it, as she gives you concerned glances, but she does not close them. She really became a good girl, so you will treat her like one. Grab her thighs and adjust her on the surface, then lower yourself to her crotch.

"U-u-unnie, I..."

You blow on Minju's pussy and then dive tongue-first into the pink, twitching entrance.

Your taste buds get a taste of what she seems to be leaking all the time and you can't lie: it's addicting. Her juice is like honey, but a lot less tenacious and easily consumable. With your tongue spreading her lips, you get a good amount of it and she is obviously unable to understand what Chaewon is saying.

You enjoy her taste, but her odor might be even better. She smells fresh like a rose and needy like the good girl she is slowly becoming for her Daddy. You could sniff her for longer, but the time is ticking. Chaewon won't stay on the phone forever after all, so you drag your tongue over Minju's labia. Her legs jerk lightly and she whimpers softly, softer than her folds. Those folds get greedily attacked by your licks, the left side, the right side, then all over. A first moan is imminent, and Minju releases it right into the speaker.

"Minmin?" Chaewon asks worriedly, "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, I—hng, ah!"

Suck on her clit and Minju's phone tumbles out of her hand. You quickly pick it up and put it against her mouth. Chaewon shall hear every sound, every pant, every sexy moan from Minju's pretty lips.

"Minmin, what's happening?"

"I-It's okay, hng, it feels so go-good, ah!"

Minju's hand in your hair is unsure if it should push you away from her twitching core or deeper into it. Her thighs however are a lot more honest. They press down on your ears from each side. The more viciously you lick and suck, the less gentle they become.

"What feels good? Wait, are you masturbating? During a call?!"

"N-no, I, " Minju stops and her teary eyes look down at you. You quickly nod and give her an award in advance: a sudden finger in her empty, greedy pussy.

"I-I'm not, Unnie, he-he is just so good, ah! I'm gon-gonna cu—"

Minju mindlessly screams and squirts as you finger-and-tongue-fuck her over the edge. The fact that she cums so easily now makes you proud and you'd love to drink more from her leaking hole, but you have your fun adventure to not only end a call, but also start a new crazy chapter in your life.

"Who, Minju who in the fucking hell—"

"It's me, Chaewon,” you say in a dismissive, confident tone. “Yes, me. The fucking pig. I bet you know where to find me. But don't get your hopes high."

You give Minju a loud, sloppy kiss as she still moans in deep blissfulness.

"Minju is mine."

"Step 3: Wait."

A ring at your doorbell. Minju walks to the speaker and filled with enthusiasm, she presses the button to call Chaewon's elevator up. She leaves the door open and walks back to you.

"Well done, Minmin. Are you not embarrassed? Being naked before Chaewon?"

"No, no," she shakes her head cutely, then blushes, "we saw each other naked often."

"Oh? So you two did more than just kissing, huh~?"

Minju's blush grows. In what can only be the universe's irony, she rather hides her face then her exposed pussy and medium size breasts. She has really gotten used to being naked—or it's because she is still euphoric from your cock being in her right after the call ended?

"Do you want to do it again?"

Your question makes Minju look up at your closer coming figure. You love the shyness and innocence she still has even after all that has happened. It makes you want to cuddle her—or break her again, fuck her mindlessly against the wall, in the shower or in front of her friend.

"Do you want to have sex with Chaewon? Or do you want this?"

You drop your dress pants and although her eyes remain locked with yours, her hand instinctively reaches for your still hard cock. Another clear victory for you, as she strokes you.

"Minmin, where are you?" Chaewon shouts from the front door.

"Tell her where you are, Minmin, " you sadistically whisper into her ear. "Tell her who owns you, tell her where you reside, where you spend your days naked and being a whore. Minmin look at me. Would you ever touch Chaewon without Daddy's permission? Would you ever want to? Or is Daddy all you need, all you ever want?"

You put your hand at her chin and hold her up to you, oozing a wad of spit from your mouth into hers. Suddenly, Chaewon rushes in and stops in the door frame. With an inner grin, you let even more spit run down on Minju's tongue and down her chin which you firmly hold. Feeling your own saliva has rarely felt this good.

"Min... Minju what is—you fucking bastard, you pig! I'm going to kill you!"

If she would follow up her words, Chaewon would need to leap towards you and tackle you to the ground, yet she still stands there, her knees shaking from anger, her hands in firm fists. You smirk at her, not concerned in the slightest. All that matters rests in your palm and is as well-trained as ever.. It’s the same as with Hyewon: you have all the leverage, not only the feeling of power, but real power. You are not going to hold it back

"What's wrong?” you respond with utmost wit. “Come and kill me then. But I assume you won’t even step into the room, what a disappointment. Minmin, tell Chaewon what we just discussed. Tell her everything."

"Shut the fuck up!” Chaewon screams at the top of her lungs, face boiling bright red in rage. “Minju, get away from him. You don't have to do that. He is just using you to cheat on Yujin!"

"B-but Unnie," Minju gulps down your spit and gives her friend a serious, determined look. "This is my home, this is where I-I walk around naked everyday. This is my Daddy and I'm so happy he owns me and f-fucks me. Thank you, Daddy."

Minju gets on her toes and you pull at her chin to start a short, passionate torrent of kisses, while her pussy presses down on your upright shaft. Chaewon gasps.

"Cheat on Yujin?” you say with slight indignation, as your tongue slips from Minju’s lips. “I would never and have never. In fact, Yujin is the one who pushed Minju here in the first place! I didn't want her here, but she's proven to be a fun toy and a good girl for Daddy. Isn't that right Minju?

She nods eagerly, her eyes shimmering, licking the spit on her face or the juice in her crotch. You firmly squeeze her chin and stare her down to the absolute shock of her friend.

“Now, you didn't listen to me fully. Would you ever touch Chaewon without Daddy's permission? Would you ever desire her without my approval? Who has given you the greatest happiness and pleasure in your life, who do you love the most, Minmin?"

"I love Chaewon, but I want Daddy. Daddy owns me, I only want your cock."

"Good girl," you growl with a smirk. She didn't need to be so cute about it, but you can't help but dig into her collarbone with kisses while lifting her light body up. She wraps her legs around your waist and with ease, your cock penetrates her slick pussy. Without caring for the frozen Chaewon, you carry Minju to the couch.

"Ride Daddy, Minju. Show Chaewon how you bounce on someone you really love."

"Yo-you are a bit mean, Dad—ah!"

You give her a heavy thrust and a spank on her firm ass. The hit on both her inside and outside leaves her mewling and she abides. Much to the dismay of Chaewon, Minju starts to bounce on your cock like a marble bounces down an endless staircase. Her hands are wrapped around your nape and you enjoy the sight of her delirious face and shaking tits.

"Good girl Minmin. Who has given you the best pleasure, baby girl? Is it Chaewon or me?"

"Daddy! Daddy is the best!"

"That's fucking enough!"

Chaewon finally gathered her strength. Her stomps are strong. Like an angry hoard of buffaloes, she storms over to you and wraps her arms around Minju. With one strong pull, she gets her Dongsaeng off of your cock.

"N-no, Unnie, I want."

"Minju, he won't do this to you anymore."

Chaewon reaches for both your tip and your throat. Mercilessly, she squeezes down on both of them while locking eyes. Her dark irises are like a void of hatred, sucking you in. The power of a blackhole, while her hands use the power to suffocate your pleasure.

Yet you don't break a sweat. With a badly faked whimper, you say what she probably wants to hear.

"I'm so scared, oh no, don't kill me Chaewon."

"Chaewon! What the hell are you doing? Get away from him right now!"

You smirk as Chaewon turns around and sees an angry, truly angry Minju. This wasn't anger of jealousy or desire, but of seeing a loved one in danger, a need to protect.

"You are out of your mind, Minju!" Chaewon shouts back at her friend and stares. The blackholes that couldn't do anything to you, seem to be effective. No matter how angry Minju is, she will always be soft at heart. She backs off, still irritated and clearly unsatisfied.

It's a circus you love to see. Anything to make Chaewon crack a little more.

"Wow, calling your best friend these words. You must be the one out of your mind, Chaewon. Maybe the bitchiness has clouded your brain."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! I hate you, I hate you so fucking much. I will... I will take this from you."

She squeezes your cock even tighter.

"This? You want to rip it off?" you laugh at her face.

"No. I will drain you. Remove all the pleasure from what you think your 'power' is."

Chaewon leans to your face and digs all of her fingernails into your skin. The pain in your facade is the only thing that you don't have to fake anymore. It hurts like hell.

"And then I'll take Minju back."

"Oh ho," you mockingly hum. Chaewon rids herself of her skirt and panties. For the first time, she isn't pressing something down or into your throat. You probably bleed from there, if not it's just the sweat. But to win this, every drop of blood, sweat and tears is worth it.

"I'll fucking fuck you till your breath stops, pathetic son of a bitch."

Chaewon does not give you a chance to respond. The palm of her hand is firmly pressed on your lips as she sinks on your shaft. Her pussy, a freshly shaved innie, is incredibly tight and she struggles to get you in. In frustration, she spits in her hand and lubes you up.

You try to make a scene by flailing with your arms. Maybe she really believes that she can break you this way. But there is certainly a small part in her that just wants to try it. The pleasure you give to her Dongsaengs, the temptation that is your body and cock, they are all too great to not be a factor in her bizarre decision to straddle your lap.

"Shit," Chaewon winces when you finally pierce her open. This time the penetration is a bit easier, but she still struggles. Her plan looks even more embarrassing now. How in the hell does she want to hurt you if she is already hurting at this stage.

"U-Unnie, stop doing that," Minju urges her from the side, stern concern in her voice.

Chaewon shakes her head and wipes a tear off her face. She's got you almost entirely inside her and starts to wiggle her hips a little. You can't lie, this isn't a lot of fun for you either. She is too dry inside and compared to the enthusiastic, submissive Minju, she is absolutely no fun. If you were doomed to always have sex like this for the rest of your life, she would have succeeded in breaking your spirit.

Luckily, this is not the case.

"W-well? Already hating it?" Chaewon asks, her voice trying to sound triumphant while her face contorts in pain. She removes her hand from your lips and you frown at her, unimpressed, unfazed.

"Minju, come over here."

Your command is followed instantly. Minju kneels next to you, her beautiful body upright on the couch. Her gorgeous breasts are on your eye-level and you have to force yourself to look past them. Her face is painted with uncertainty and neediness.

"Yes, Daddy? Ah!"

Instead of answering her, you stick two fingers into her entrance below. Minju begins to mewl like a cute kitten and the envy on Chaewon's face is priceless. Surely she can attack you in this position, but as she is unable to adjust to the large phallus inside her, she won't do anything.

"Your Unnie doesn't feel as great as you. Do you think there is any way we can help her, how you can help her?"

"Daddy, I know e-every spot that Chaewon-unnie likes."

"No, Minju, no," Chaewon whines, but before she can get a hand on her friend, you grab both her wrists and hold them tightly.

"That's great, but first, give me Chaewon's panties. We have to tie her up, she has been very naughty."

This is the moment Chaewon should realize that her plan was futile and stupid to begin with and that her curiosity and libido got the better of her. With her smelly panties, she receives the treatment of a caught criminal, all while her friend is playing along. The only way out would be to leave, but this would mean to leave Minju behind.

Chaewon's heart cannot allow this. It cannot forget how strong she feels whenever the taller girl smiles or waves at her, when they cuddled in bed during the covid scares, when they cried together after the final concert. All the times they got intimate together—she can't leave her behind.

"Good girl," you groan to Minju and caress her cheek. In Chaewon's mind, you're saying it to her and she hates it. She hates every last bit of you. The way you nuzzle up into Minju to whisper to her. The way you control her and force her to call you Daddy. The way you make her—

"Ah, Minju, no-not there!"

Minju places soft, slow kisses below Chaewon's navel and works her way in a zig-zag pattern from thigh to thigh. Only a few things make the fierce leader weaker than this and only Minju knows of them.

"You're doing so good, Minju."

Your praise is met with a hum when you massage her butt and then move back to gently play with her clit. Minju moves further up. She licks Chaewon's underboob, not caring about the salty sweat which resides there. Goosebumps travel all over Chaewon's skin and when Minju finally leeches onto one of her nipples, you feel it without a doubt.

"Oh, it's working,” you say excitedly as a surge of juice lubes up your shaft inside Chaewon, and you decide to tease her with it. “Chaewon, are you getting wetter?"

"N-no, pig. Fuck, I h-hate y-you."

"That's why you're here, hm? Then do it! Free 'your' Minju."

The small woman gets into position again. Your cock almost slipped all the way out of her, it's a lot easier for her to let you glide inside. However, her untrained walls still struggle with the last inch. No matter how much she forces herself, it’s not enough, agonizing for both of you. The entirety of her riding is sloppy, absolutely unenjoyable.

All her adjustments and attempts to take you faster or more of your dick end the same way: with a groan of disappointment. You let her try it over and over again, but her attempt at hate sex is nowhere near overstimulation or pain. There is a lot more boredom, although her walls have potential.

"Fuck, Chaewon, that's not gonna work."

You roll your eyes and Chaewon actually stops. Tears are in the corner of her eyes and when you look over to Minju, she seems pretty upset as well. Her only comfort is your hand rubbing her softly on her sensitive spots.

"You're pretty shit at this, wow,” you dryly whisper your factual insult. “I thought you wanted Minju back, make me resign and give up, but this is just downright bad."

"Wh-what? What the fuck are you saying?"

Chaewon is in disbelief. Her tied up hands smack your chest. You swat them away and get a hand in her short black hair.

"I'm being totally serious here. You fuck like someone who has no experience. This way, you won't get anything out of me."

You look over to Minju and when she reacts, you press a kiss on her tender lips. You coo a 'good girl' at her and she giggles cutely. Chaewon realizes the meaning of your words and immediately climbs off of your cock.

"Fuck you. I don't need that. You're a disgusting piece of shit, I don't want your fucking compliments."

"No, I bet you much rather walk to the next guy, have sex with him and let him either lie or tell you the gut punching truth. Chaewon, only here can you train without it becoming a rumor. Only here can you see Minju. These are just the facts, but do whatever you want."

"Ugh, fucking hell,” Chaewon curses with shame and disgust written all over her pretty face. She struggles for a second, then tears the tied up panties around her wrists open. To her dismay, they are completely useless now.

"Okay, Mr. Sex-Expert-Pig. What the fuck do you think is wrong? I bet I could make any guy cum in under a minute."

You scoff and stare her down.

"Oh, and then why weren't you able to make a horny 'pig' like me to cum? Do better Chaewon. Your technique, your enthusiasm, your movement are all weak. I—"

"Fucking fine then!” Chaewon screams and sends her skirt flying into a nearby wall. “I'll fuck you. I'll fuck my anger onto you every fucking day if it means getting bett—getting Minju back. And then you'll see!"

"Oh, you can try, but all compliments are reserved for good girls."

You hug Minju's waist. The cute girl is completely confused by what is happening, but she sure enjoys your affection and repeated kisses. When you press your palm to the back of her head, she wanders down your body and begins to lick your cock blissfully.

"Urg, I'm not calling you Daddy. In fact, I won't do anything for you. I'll fuck the compliments out of you and then Minju will see how pathetic you are, pig."

"I bet you will die trying, bitch."

#kpop smut #girl group smut #izone smut #female idol smut #eleven to one universe #ive smut #le sserafim smut #chaewon smut #minju smut #yujin smut #ahn yujin smut #2kim smut

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syoddeye · 1 month

Text

useless

Part one of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. Part one uses two:

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

~2k words, Price x f!Reader. Some liberties were taken with canon, obvs. Please enjoy!

You meet John Price when you're fifteen years old.

Being the new kid is never easy, but you have some practice. This is the fifth time your family has moved since you were born. Such is life when your mother's an ambassador. However, it is your first time attending an actual school, and it's miserable. It doesn't matter who your mother is when your peers are the children of millionaires, celebrities, and executives. Compared to them, you're a nobody, just easy pickings.

But compared to John, you might as well be a princess.

The son of your mother's assistant, you see John almost every day. You do not attend the same school, of course. Despite the awfulness of its students, your school has standards, after all, but every day after the last bell, you and your security detail fetch John to rendezvous at your family's sprawling home. Since both sets of your parents work long and odd hours, you spend a great deal of time together. Usually, you study, eat dinner, maybe read or watch television, but you do not necessarily talk. He's as surly as an old man, unpleasant on good days and unbearable on bad ones.

You don't look at John when he slides into the car anymore. You're enthralled in Sabriel, too busy to acknowledge him, that is until you feel his eyes on you.

"What?"

"Didn't say anything."

"You're staring," You huff, lowering the book, only to almost drop it. "What happened to your face?!"

A purpling, inky black bruise covers John's swollen left eye. It's nasty, but he looks bored by the question.

"Scrapped. Some idiot ran his mouth."

"So you hit him? Then he hit you?"

"That's generally how it works," He says dismissively, crossing his arms and leaning into the seat to stare out the window.

You roll your eyes and return to the Abhorsen. "Your mom's gonna kill you."

He doesn't have a comeback for that.

Predictably, his mom loses it when she arrives to pick him up. Throws a fit, her anger evenly split between John and his school. You watch from the top of the stairs as your mother consoles her friend and offers advice before they leave. John scowls, the expression deepening when he catches you listening in. You give a shit-eating grin before retreating to your room. Serves him right for fighting. Boys.

Of course, though, in a rotten turn of events, his mother leverages her position, and John enrolls in your school. Due to your relationship, you're naturally coupled together both in and outside of the classroom. It isn't for lack of trying on your peers' parts. You can grudgingly admit John's a good-looking boy. He has all the makings of a popular kid. Athletic, intelligent, and withdrawn, just enough to make people wonder in a good way. He's regularly asked out, the invitations often extended in your company. You don't miss how other girls look at him or glare at you.

Jokes on them, he's easily the most unpleasant person you've ever had the displeasure to know.

"What are you putting down on the careers interest form?" You ask one afternoon, sprawled on the couch while John sits with his back to it, reading.

"SAS. Enlisting next year."

"Military? How noble." You muse. "Your dad's not–"

"No," His head turns a fraction. "But my grandfather served. North Africa."

It's the first you've heard of it. John doesn't talk much about his family, nor do you make a habit of asking. You don't pay close attention to the adults' conversations either. "Well, you're pretty strong and clever, I guess," you temper the compliments, uneasy about doling them out to him. So you'll fair well, I bet."

He doesn't respond for a minute before a quiet "Thank you," ekes out.

For whatever reason, your face heats. How embarrassing. You tap your pen against your blank form, grateful he faces away. Yet as a silence follows and stretches, irritation sidles alongside discomfiture. Honestly, this is what you'd like to show the girls at school. Prove that John's actually quite annoying.

"Now's about the time another person would ask what I'm putting down."

John doesn't look up from his book. "I know what you're going to write."

You bristle. "Oh, do you? Enlighten me."

"Artist. Writer. Actress. Something useless."

In one fluid movement, you sit up and strike him across the crown with your notebook. "You're such an asshole!" You quickly create distance between his stupid, stunned face and yourself, stomping all the way to the stairs. Halfway up the steps, you crouch, pressing your face between the balusters. "You're not going to amount to anything!"

You don't speak to him after that—not entirely, of course. Your families are too intertwined to avoid him completely, but the incident strains your already tenuous relationship. It's awkward and tense, though neither of your families notices the shift. You sit in silence at joint dinners. You leave him alone in the den after school. You latch on to other singletons in class, avoiding him in the halls.

Months pass, and as John declared, he enlists the moment the school term ends. Freshly sixteen, and scheduled to ship out to basic.

The morning he leaves, your mother drags you to his house. You stand speechless on the walk outside when he marches out with his rucksack. His head's shaved. He grew an inch and filled out some in the last few weeks when you weren't paying attention. Still a boy, but clearly on his way to becoming a man.

His mother all but shoves him at you to say goodbye. He stares down at you now, the twit.

"Good luck." It's the nicest thing you can manage.

"Break a leg," He responds, hauling his bag over his shoulder. "Don't be useless."

You're too busy noticing how his eyes are the same color as the sky to feel even a twinge of irritation.

When he files into the waiting taxi, his mother bursts out into sobs. You watch the car until it disappears down the next street, trying to understand why your chest is so tight.

It’s a decade before you see him again.

"I told the Prices you'd pop by."

You nearly fumble your card, phone cradled between your shoulder and ear, and clumsily tap it against the scanner. Mouthing an apology to the disinterested cashier, you take your bag and find your words.

"Why would you do that?" You ask, unable to completely mask your disdain. "I told you I have plans for New Years."

Your mother tsks. "Surely you can pencil in some of our oldest friends for an hour tomorrow."

The automatic doors open, and the wintry air envelops you instantly. The plastic bag taut in the crook of your arm, you flip the collar of your coat and start the return trek to your flatshare. "I haven't seen them since graduation, since we moved back to Virginia."

"And you moved back to London, what, eight months ago?" Her end muffles a moment while she says something to her aide. Her voice is sterner when she speaks again. "They've been asking about your job, how acting's going…" Her voice trails, leaving the works or not going unspoken.

You swallow, tucking your chin into your scarf to consider the remainder of the conversation. "Fine. I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon. But I'm not staying late. I have plans." You don't. You did have an invite to a party a week ago, but that was before Jeff decided Jane from work was 'more his speed'. More 'conventional'. Though you'd seen the breakup coming for weeks and the relationship only a measly six months old, it still stung. Since coming back to London, you've had more than enough rejection.

Dozens of auditions. Dozens more interviews. Zip, zilch, zero. No callbacks, no non-speaking roles. And while you are the favorite stage manager for several small local theaters and Yes Woman, you weren't any closer to the stage. Something your mother loves to remind you of. Between her rapid ascent up the career ladder and your decision to study theater, an uncrossable gulf cropped up between you. It grew with each passing day. Moreso, when you reject every offer of financial support or connection. Her support means control. Ownership. You won't have it.

The conversation drifts to other topics—Dad, mostly. He's still putting around after her, content in his retirement. They'll spend New Year's at the White House, of course. You're pushing through the door to your place when she drops the bomb.

"John'll be there, too."

This time, you drop your keys.

There is no excuse you can make to back out now. You wait on the top step of the Price's home. It's smaller than you remember. You hear people inside, music, and laughter. You hesitate. Given what you told your mother, they probably expected you far earlier than nine, but you barely mustered the courage to leave your room. You practically blacked out on the tube, leaving the station in a daze with your cheap bubbles. Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door. No time for stage fright.

The foyer is a time capsule, aside from the dozens of coats hanging on hooks and a coat rack. Framed photos of the Prices throughout the years line the short corridor leading further into the home. John's center stage for most of them. You hang your coat and slowly edge down memory lane, pausing when you see your own face looking back at you. Aged fifteen, the first day of school. You and John in different uniforms, sulking for different reasons. It was the last time you were the same height.

There are a lot of photographs of you in the hallway gallery. Ones you didn't know existed. You get stuck on a still of you and John from behind. It's from the London Zoo, from some ridiculous event your mother's work mandated you attend. The photo is simple, accidentally composed almost professionally. You and John lean against the rail overlooking the lion exhibit. You excitedly point at the pair lazing about in the shade, and John…John's focus is on you.

The sound of your name rips you away from the moment, and Mrs. Price beckons from the doorway to the living area.

The reunion between yourself and Prices is sweeter than you thought it would be. It's odd to see them older. As jarring as it is when you see your own parents, as sparingly as those visits are. Wrinkles, spots, graying hairs…But unlike your parents, none of the familiar warmth is missing from the Prices. They fuss, complimenting your secondhand dress and gushing over the bottom shelf champagne. They awkwardly introduce you to the closest guests, some claiming to have met you as a teenager. But you feel Mrs. Price's hand on your back, gently ushering and ushering, until you arrive at the threshold of the kitchen.

He's taller, tanner, and a hell of a lot broader than you remember him.

"John? Look who's here!"

You step into the kitchen with a gentle nudge from Mrs. Price, and the figure from many memories and more than a handful of confusing and mortifying dreams turns to face you.

Your name slips from his mouth in an arrogant purr, and the little tug of his lip into a smirk instantly pokes at your patience. He's literally only said your name, and already he's resurrected the same shade of vexation you felt ten years ago.

You're going to need something stronger than champagne.

#ocaptainchallenge #john price #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #price x reader #price x f!reader #lieutenant john price #smug lieutenant john price is so important to me #i'm also obviously not british and i'll admit i did maybe 10% of the research i usually do.....apologies #lightly edited i was too excited

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russellsppttemplates · 4 months

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I came across some videos of bf and gf trying period pains simulator at the same time and the difference between how the guys react and the girls react are almost funny. Like, the guys are there fighting for their lives and the girls are like yeah that's pretty accurate. I know Lance's arc is the one this relates the most to, but it actually got me imagining Pierre and Charles doing something like this. Or should I say their gf making them try at the same time as them to gauge their reactions. They'd have new level of empathy for their girls after this, I'm sure!

Cw: periods (pain, blood, medications), curse words

Note: I'm currently on my cycle, so the increase of empathy for these things is very much relevant

"Well, you're always wondering how they feel, so I got this machine thingy that apparently simulates period cramps", you added as Charles sat next to you on the sofa, "how do I know you're not bullshitting me?", he mused, "this can gave two people at the same time, so I'll also be feeling like you feel", you explained.

Grabbing the small stickers, you put them in your lower abdomen before doing the same to Charles, "now you're just feeling me up", he teased, "it's nice, can you blame me?", you smirked, making sure it was properly sticked on.

"Ready?", you questioned before turning it up, starting lightly, "Oh, are you sure they are this bad?", Charles groaned, holding his stomach and curling around himself, "That's not even the worst, Charles!", you offered.

"Okay, give me the worst, I'm ready!", Charles psyched himself before nodding, Ready to accept whatever pain went through him, loudly yelling when you turned it up, "Argh! Stop stop stop!", he pleaded as you turned off the machine, "how can you be so calm?".

"I'm used to it, amour. I've had my period since I was 11, and they were only pain-free for about a year or so", you offered, shrugging your shoulders, "and you didn't even experience it for a long time, with blood and changes and accidents", you said as you removed the sticker pads.

"Everything you need, amour, in that time of the month, you let me know and we'll do just that", he pulled you in to have a cuddle, kissing your forehead multiple times, "your body goes through a lot monthly, amour, so many hormones and medications. I mean, can you even take anything that completely takes the pain away?".

"Sometimes, it isn't that bad all the time. I've tried the pill, but it made me feel weird because of the hormones and I stopped", you reasoned, "it was just finding what worked for me and working with it", you shrugged your shoulders. It was truly something you knew you had to deal with, so you made peace with it pretty early on.

"I love you, Y/N. You're the best", he said, kissing your forehead repeatedly and rubbing your tummy, "you're the best".

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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pervertedreams · 3 months

Text

i thought the hyperfixation was wearing off but i have more farleigh headcanons!

requests / asks are always opennnn !

minors dni. sexual themes

- i think he gets sick easily, constantly sniffing (for multiple reasons) and gets cold super easy. i don’t think he’s a whiny type of sick person but he makes it obviously known that he’s ill. but whenever you offer help he’s almost got an ‘i don’t need your pity’ attitude, meanwhile his curls are flat, lips are dry and complexion pale as ever. idk i feel he doesn’t like asking for help even when he really needs it. makes him feel inferior. but eventually he accepts defeat and lets you take care of him, with a not so satisfied tone in his voice when hes saying thank you.

- thinking about how farleigh laughed in oliver’s face TWICE once at nobody knowing his name at his bday and again when he laughed at oliver’s dick flopping around in the field. so i think it’s fair to say he’ll laugh right in somebody’s face loud and shamelessly. and he should! and when people get mad at him for laughing it just makes me laugh more.

- i can’t remember if i said this before so imma just say it again, but i think he likes giving head more than receiving it. he likes having a purpose and fulfilling it. so whenever the two of you are in the mood he almost always offers to give you head… yeah

- i feel like it takes a lot for him to yell in an argument, i think by nature he’d like to have a screaming match but knows it’s more effective to be calm in a disagreement. it’s more productive and bound to get more of an reaction out of whoever he’s bickering with.

- when he’s really upset or mad and arguing is getting nowhere, he just feels like he’s talking to a brick wall he does the silent treatment. just giving hums and slow nods as a response.

- doesn’t really smile in photos the most you can get outta him is a smirk. if he is smiling in a photo it’s def an off guard

- walks dick first.. yeah

- idk i feel like he’s a good kisser it’d be crazy for me to say he’s good at giving head but a bad kisser. he’s very into it, very tender almost with it. it’s one of the few things he does where his softer side shows <3

- much like oliver i feel he’s attracted to pretty things and just femininity in general

- has an intense skin care ritual that he makes sure to follow every night. he gets down he don’t play

- runs through a pack of cigarettes a day and gets pissed whenever someone mentions it cause he’s convinced it isn’t a problem. he’s knows it is but.. pride yano?

- i feel like farleigh has a choking kink, likes to choke and liked to be choked. idk if i said that already LOL. but it’s something about giving into the submission of being choked, and letting his brain get foggy, with rolled eyes. just allowing himself to be dominated, but the soft dom in him also likes having that control. putting that soft pressure against your neck, and watching the way you fall apart. he gets off to him being the reason you fall apart.

- he’s an asshole and he knows it, i think he just naturally gets off to teasing people. he’ll whisper in peoples ear laughing and snickering, i think he’s just a whisperer in general. randomly coming up behind the shell of your ear to whisper something inappropriate in front of his family. or whispering a joke about oliver to you while looking oliver dead in the eyes. and if anyone asks him about whatever he’s whispering about he plays like he doesn’t know. i think he just likes being the reason for peoples reactions. good or bad, makes him feel powerful

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v3nusxsky · 8 months

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Hi I was wondering if I could request a pretty detailed lesso smut

Basically it’s dom lesso x sub reader and r is originally very innocent and inexperienced so she’s a very good and obedient sub for lesso but recently r read fanfics abt bratting and found brat taming very attractive so she wanted to try it w lesso

R starts off by not wearing the remote control vibe that lesso told her to wear, sending explicit videos to her in the middle of work and when lesso gets her in a room at the end of the day, r doesn’t assume her usual position of submission and instead touches herself on their bed

Leonora is probably more of a quietly strict dom and manhandles r over her work table and makes r spread her legs and spanks her w a belt, occasionally smacking her cunt (ofc it would be super hot of lesso to make r count and thank her for each stroke)

After that it’s just a lot of cockwarming and and Leo putting r in her place w the vibes of “my sweet slut just needed a good fucking, didn’t she?” HHHHH and yes all that good stuff, would love it to be a longer fic so I can drown my sorrows in lady lesso

P.s would be amazing if u included an authority/ strict dom kink and r is only allowed to call Leo Lady Lesso or mistress

SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS REQUEST I just had a very specific daydream, with that said Tysm for hearing me out and have a lovely day <3

Breaking rules 18+

*Authors note~ Birthday fic:))) never be sorry for a longer prompt request, I absolutely love the detail to it which helps me ensure I don't stray from what you desire unless you want me to go nuts on it. However I will admit some of this I changed slightly due to personal reasons, enjoy the fic*

Trigger warnings~ strict mommy vibe dom leo brat subby r, mistress kink mentions corruption kink and virgin r remote control vibe phone sex? Videos ;) submissive positions. Punishments, spanking (hand and cane) cock warming edging Dacryphilia kink manhandling praise and degrading kinks I think that's it.

Prompt~ see ask^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You remember the first time you and Lady Lesso slept together, how she taught you everything you needed to know, how she mollified you until you were no longer the innocent woman you were but now a perfect submissive for her. Every single action was carefully crafted to have you being a good girl for her. You'd never had a taste of punishment so maybe that's why the fan fiction enticed you so much. You'd never considered the outcome of what would happened to you if you broke the rules. But here and now you sat hot and bothered by the idea of that very thing.

You knew what she expected of you, the directions were clear, and normally you'd do exactly as asked but the fic had awoken the bratty beast inside you. You got dressed for your day but forgoing on the remote control vibrator which caused excited chills to run through your body. How could being so bad feel so good? You couldn't help but wonder how much more you'd escape with. What would be the consequences to your actions?

By your lunch period you were ready to do some more rule breaking, the overwhelming thrill you received from disobeying your lover was certainly indescribable, you were so sure that this is your best idea yet. Perhaps that's why you snuck off to your old room and began to touch yourself after setting up the camera. You made sure to be vocal and after the camera capturing exactly how much you were enjoying your mid day fun. With a quick press of a few buttons, Leonora was graced with those video's just a few moments before she was expected to teach curses and death traps. For the life of her she couldn't work out why you were doing this. After all the first time lesso touched you, you were a virgin, and so willing to do whatever she demanded out of you. To submit so easily just to please her. And that was so unusual but not something she couldn't handle.

The final straw for Leonora was when you didn't kneel by the bed as she entered the room, no. Instead you lay there lazily circling your clit and teasing your soaking slit. Back arched and head tilted back in pleasure. It was as if she'd never even entered the room. "What the hell are you doing" she growled snapping you out from your blissed out mindset. "I uh I'm sorry Lady Lesso, I just I wanted to-" you mumbled trying to explain the situation. "I don't care. Up" she cut you off immediately reaching down to grab your arm and drag you where she wanted you. "Leo" you whimpered causing the red heads eyes to darken. "Excuse me?! How dare you address your superior so casually. You're below me and it's about time I reminded you do that fact."

Being forced over the desk in your shared bedroom all exposed while she remains fully clothed only added to the power play here. You had no choice but spread your legs when she kicked them apart. "Mistress please! I'm sorry" you whined unhappily. "Oh no pet, no. You can't act like a little slut and play the innocent card now darling. You will count your punishment and use my titles. Should you fail we will restart."

The first crack sounded across the room causing a sting to run over your ass. "One mistress" you mumbled gasping as three hits of her hands rained down on you. "Fuck two three four lady lesso" your tears now falling. The next hit was something different, the cool feeling of her cane touching your sore globes. The cool sensation only providing a small bit of relief before the pain outweighed the cool feeling. Hit after hit you counted every one bent over her desk. "Lady lesso" you sobbed unhappily. "Shush shush shush little girl, just a couple more okay?" She whispered before yanking you to lay on your back before three quick hits were placed on your aching clit. "Mistress, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" you blabbered hiccuping through your tears. "Shhh I know you are sweet girl, you have to learn this isn't okay darling. Be my sweet little girl, and then mistress can reward her good girl."

You were swiftly guided to lay on the bed, your ass on fire as it rubbed against the sheets. Only to watch Leonora strip to show her favourite strap on. "Now be a pretty whore and let mistress use your pretty holes" she purred before teasing your slit with the bulbous head of her faux enchanted cock. Lesso immediately set a punishing pace as she drilled into your aching cunt, "fuck so pretty when you cry sweet slut" she murmured when she noticed the tears falling slightly, "pretty tears."

Leonora continued to fuck you ruthlessly until she came first. Spurting cum from her faux cock as she painted your insides white. "Mistress" you whined hoping she'd finally let you come, after all the punishment and being used for her pleasure left you hanging on the edge. "Okay darling, this is your chance to be a good girl, I'm gonna fuck you so well darling, you'll forget your own name." Leonora was the one to keep to her promise. You came over and over again, some just on her cock and others with a small little vibe that would sit on your puffy clit.

"Oh my sweet slut just needed a good fucking? Didn't she?" She cooed looking at your pupils being blown wide and eyes glazed over indicating just how deep in your sub space you truly are. "Okay love, I'm going to pull out now" you whined in response. "Okay okay we can stay like this but let's get comfortable beautiful" she murmured shifting to settle you both comfortably for the night as she held you, you both drifted off for the night.

Word count~ 1368

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso x you #leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso x reader #lesso #dean of evil #dean of evil smut #dean of evil x reader #tsfgae fic

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colourstreakgryffin · 7 months

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Hello there stranger!

I hope you have a nice day~

Anyway I see you make Naoya so can I request Yandere Naoya with S/O who have personality like giyuu and the gender? well~ be whatever you want to be I don't mind!

And that's all I hope you have a nice day stranger bye-bye 🤸🏻‍♂️

Goddamn, another Naoya request but you know what! I want more JJK requests so thank you, stranger! Also, oooh! A Giyuu! Reader, I like that!

Zen’in Naoya- Toxic River

Naoya, was honestly, so goddamn annoyed by you and your stern, aloof demeanour at first. What’s your damn problem with people? Well, that was he originally thought but now, he likes how reticent and quiet you are

Women should be submissive. But in all honesty, he really likes the challenge of breaking down your guard

Naoya is basically your Shinobu. He constantly annoys you and eggs you on to talk to others but you just stay silent, fuelling his want to break apart your reservedness so he keeps trying, mocking your shyness and playing with you to try get a response

Naoya will drag you around into social situations. You think he cares enough to do what you want? … He’ll partly does! He brings you to a social scenario but he guards you and fends off people who bother you

He is the only one who can bother and bully you since it’s ✨c u t e✨when he does it

Naoya wants you to not be so goddamn closed-off and cold. He won’t hurt you like whoever did hurt you, sure, he may be a bit mean but it’s all playful and it’s all innocent. He doesn’t actually mean any comment he brings up, it’s all to try get you to talk to him

Naoya will, behind your back, fix up your precious mismatched jacket so you won’t cry over it. It’s very important to you for a particular reason he doesn’t know but he doesn’t care that he doesn’t know the origins, he just wishes to make you happy

Naoya may be your biggest loving bully but he doesn’t mean harm. If you cry or if you lash out at him for his comments, he will stop and give you a number of gifts to express his apologises. He wants you to be able to be more comfortable. Don’t push him away

Naoya, for the first time in his life, feels immense guilt when he finds out the reason you try to avoid making friends and bonding with others so intensely. You’ve lost your precious sister and best friend to cursed spirits and you don’t wish to put that “curse” of yours onto anybody

He can’t stand that. Even if he dies, he will come back as a cursed spirit and protect you to the very end

Naoya loves seeing you actually smile and express joy for once. When a plate of simmered salmon with daikon is placed before you, your originally darker eyes light up and you openly beam at him. Naoya feels his heart explode at how adorable you are, it’s fuelled how cute he views you

You’re adorable. You care so much for him and others, seriously. Nobody can have you! You’re his wife now and he will never let anybody have you! Naoya is clinging onto you and won’t ever let go, like you’re his lifeblood and to him, you are his lifeblood

“C’mon, open up. Why be such a dark, bland wall? I’m not that rude. C’mon, I’ll keep poking you if you don’t respond to me”

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spdrvyn · 11 months

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Hello! May I request a Miguel O’Hara x reader (could be a spider person) but could the reader not be so submissive towards him (which is odd to him cuz everyone always listens to him) and instead they are more headstrong. They act like they hate each other and they’ll argue about almost anything. There’s this growing tension between them and neither one of them wants to admit it or back down and after another argument they finally just kiss and make up lol . It would also be pretty funny if everyone else knew they would get together eventually it was just a matter of time and so its not even a shock to them when they do. Also I live for the angst, fluff, build up and romance so you could add that or spin it however you want. Thank you!!! :3

a sense of loathing — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: you and miguel are rivals, to some extent. it was an unspoken assumption between the two of you that there was a major mutual dislike. at least, that's what you thought.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: angst. violence. grief. tragedy. minor character death. minor gore. miguel is an asshole. you are also a little bit of an asshole.

NOTES: i really liked this ask, i wanted to write what a rivals to lovers relationship with miguel would be like so here it is! admittedly, i got a little carried away as you can see from the... warnings... and because of that, i'll have to write a second part for this fic. anyway, enjoy!

You considered yourself to be a civil person.

Sure, sometimes the little things ticked you off and your temper was shorter than most people but you learned to tamp it down over the years and not to start meaningless arguments.

Unless it came to criminal scum or whatever ravenous beast that you encountered on your duties as a Spider-Person but you liked to think that they deserved it. They were doing horrible things, so they didn't really deserve any of the niceties.

Whenever you found yourself disliking someone that wasn't either of those two things, you'd try to create as much distance as possible. It would be easier on you and on them.

But when it came to your boss...

Look, it's not like you absolutely despised the guy. You partially understood his motivations and his reasons for going about things but the way he acted upon it and his attitude made him so insufferable that it was hard to keep your head straight.

He was sarcastic, uncharismatic, and somewhat unlikeable.

Whenever you tried reasoning with him during arguments, he always had something to snap back with or a snide remark up his sleeve that leaves you seething.

How you ranted on and on about how he could be so difficult. To which your companions just responded with a shrug of their shoulder saying: "that's just how he is sometimes".

Which only angered you even further, among everyone in this god forsaken Spider Society, nobody has thought to talk back and call him out for his behavior?

Either that or someone did but never lived to tell the tale.

No, that was too ominous. You were aware that Miguel was more violent than most, you wouldn't be surprised if he's killed a guy before but he wasn't too far gone to land a hit on his own recruits.

Land a hit on you? If you pushed him enough then maybe.

Thinking about having a reasonable conversation with Miguel seemed like a long and faraway fantasy. The day that would occur would be the day that Spider-People don't have to go through soul-crushing loss to develop as a person. As a hero.

You couldn't even relate to him on that end, whenever it came to personal discussion, his lips were as sealed as a bank vault. It frustrated you to no end.

You kind of understood where he was coming from, talking about one's past can pass as a difficult subject but you just found it harder and harder to sympathize for him.

It was even harder when actually trying to collaborate with Miguel on missions. He was the boss, you knew but the amount of orders that he gave you caused your brain to throb.

Nevertheless, you persisted.

Perhaps, you persisted a little too hard, as when he asked (more like demanded) that you go on this search with him; you couldn't find it in yourself to decline.

According to and detected by the small gadget thingymajig (you couldn't bother remembering what it's called) planted by one of the other Spider-People, you and Miguel stood outside of the extremely worn down Alchemax. It's shattered windows and tattered architecture uninviting and cold.

"How cozy." You remarked, arms folded over your chest as your eyes darted around the crumbling building. The challenge of seeing how much your anger could boil everytime Miguel responded to you with a scoff or grunt begun.

He went in without a word, disappearing into the foggy debris to which you tail behind him. As you properly enter the building, it looks just as pathetic as the outside.

Abandoned, dark, decrepit. It was a sad display.

On your left, you spot an escalator. A tall statue peeks from your view on the ground floor, you go in that direction in hopes of checking out the area—

Until, there's something that binds your wrist. You look down and see tight, neon red webbing and before you could even say anything, you were tugged back rather harshly. Closer to Miguel.

You nearly stumble back from the whiplash but the webbing disintegrates into thin air once you find balance and are a few inches away from him.

"Stay close. Each time we visit a place like this, it's an entirely new layout and setting. Do you want to get jumped?"

"Right, because you know everything? You can detect an ambush from miles away, with what sense exactly?"

You didn't even need to see him unmasked to feel the eye roll, it's there. He did it, signified by the way the 'eyes' on his mask narrow ever so slightly.

He doesn't bother snapping back, he goes to the right immediately. Before you could lose him in the fog, you stay close by. Tailing right behind him.

You know one thing now, he takes very long strides and is a very fast walker compared to you. Although, his mere size explains all of that. To be fair, it's not like you were a big, strong, man that couldn't be any less than six feet. How was he expecting you to catch up exactly?

Not minding the marathon that Miguel is making you run through, you two trudge through cracked cieling tiles and fallen over vending machines.

For a lab, it seemed to be a little more devoid of actual scientific chemicals or gadgets. Abandoned places like these had some sort of stench to them but you couldn't get a whiff of anything besides cement and dry wall.

Although, perhaps there was a reason for that. Most of the windows were shattered open, you noted the glass that was scattered all around the ground around when you were outside a while ago. You were just getting a better look at it now from the interior.

The glassless windows provided some more light inside the structure, the shimmer and shine of the distant city painting the dirty floors in a tint of yellow.

You found yourself getting lost in the view, that you had almost forgotten your pesky superior who had you on the tips of your toes.

Thankfully, you're able to catch up to Miguel before he completely disappears into the darkness but before you can take even a step closer, he holds his arm out in front of you.

"Can you hear that?"

You shoot him a confused and unamused glare through your mask before it was clear to you. The faint sound of someone...

Crying.

Your gaze shifts to each corner of the room that you were in, in an attempts to pinpoint where exactly it was coming from but the sobs practically bounced off of the walls, making it even harder.

The wailing then gets louder. Increasingly so. As if it was approaching you rapidly.

You lean to the side a bit, trying to look ahead to see if there was anything getting closer and there was. Miguel moves back, with you along with him. Blades emerge from the sleeve of his right arm.

"Wait," You put a hand on his bicep but his gaze seems to be fixated on whatever is going to come out of the cloud of fog ahead of you. The figure is small, a funnel shape, and a very noticeable bow. "It's a kid."

"Disguised as an anomaly."

"Are you being serious right now?" You scoff at him. Patting his arm, but when he doesn't relent - you nudge him on a little. "Let me through, if it's actually trouble then bitch all you want back at HQ."

With a sigh, he puts his arm down and lets you go. You and the child meet in the center of the atrium, somewhat. The kid falls and slips onto her butt, before she continues crying.

She doesn't seem to be above the age of eight, you kneel down in front of her and slowly raise your mask. You can see Miguel jolt forward as if to stop you but appears to have stopped himself.

You get a closer look at her. She has a brown complexion, darker brown hair that's tied back into a ponytail with a little bow hairtie, a slightly frilly dress but the frills at the end are all tattered.

The girl looks up at you through teary eyes, they fell down her cheeks like a continuous stream. You put your hands up in a placating gesture and wore the kindest smile you could muster.

"Hey, hey..." You uttered, volume barely above a whisper. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Where are your parents?"

Even when you tried to the best of your ability to reassure her, the tears continued to drip down like a never ending waterfall. If she was trying to say something, it come out as a choked gasp or a hic.

You sighed, talking to kids wasn't exactly your strong suit and you don't even know how this little one even got here but you tried your best to be as understanding as possible.

"Me and my... friend here were looking around to see if there were any lost people. Are you lost? What's your name?" Your tone was delicate, gentle even. It quelled whatever breakdown the child was going through. Very little but it was progress.

She continued to wipe at her tears but the previous noises that she was making halted to some degree, on occasion she'd try stifle a small sob but it was all sniffles now.

"Yeah, there we go." You reassured her. "We're not bad people, if you can tell us where your parents are, we'll see if we can find them."

You tried to look all nice and friendly for the kid but deep down, you were a teeny bit terrified. An eight year old shouldn't have any business in an abandoned Alchemax.

A 'bring your kid to work' day doesn't even justify this either because the establishment looks years old from the time it was abandoned. The location was also deserted, which means there's a good chance that her parents are far away by now.

You also noticed that Miguel wasn't doing anything, he's been standing in the exact same spot since a while ago. Most likely observing your interaction with this girl.

Still, it confused you. You didn't know or understand much of Miguel's past but you knew bits and pieces, you knew that he had a family. Shouldn't talking to the children be what he's doing right now?

There was no time to question it, you're snapped out of your daze when the girl finally said her name.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Briana. My name is Briana."

"Briana," You parroted. "That's a very nice name. Are you okay now? Do you - do you want a hug? Hugs can make people feel better when they're sad."

She shakes her head, swiping at one stray tear that fell down from her puffy eyes. "No, thank you. My mommy and daddy say that I shouldn't hug strangers."

"Right, of course." You nervously take your hands back and scratch the back of your head. "Your mommy and daddy, do you know where they are?"

Another shake of the head. There was a good chance that yiu and Miguel would have to escort her back to city, to a police station or a hospital and whatnot. Looking for her parents in this forest would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

You're about to stand up, maybe bring Briana over to Miguel and tell him that you need to take her back to the city first but you get that dreadfully familiar tingle on your head.

"Sorry for this!" You exclaim, before suddenly grabbing Briana by the shoulders and pulling her to the side as a tiny explosion lands right where you were just kneeling by.

Emerging from the fog is unfortunately, Green Goblin, although he looks very different from most of the other variants you've seen of him. This Green Goblin looks less green and more of a creamy brown paper color, he lacks color besides the pencil lines.

He looks more like an incomplete sketch if anything and a lot more olden timesy, almost like he was from the Renaissance era or something like that.

"Look out!" You hear Miguel shout as another explosive is chucked at you and Briana, you both go in completely directions. As you were about to try and grab her again, the villain is quicker. Swooping down and sweeping Briana up in his arms with a cruel laughter.

You have to bite back a certain f-word from coming out of your mouth as Green Goblin veers to the left, up the floor you were about to investigate when you had first entered.

Swiftly, you put on your mask as you rushed to run up the escalator to which Miguel followed closely behind.

You've heard remnants of gossip from your colleagues anout Renaissance looking anomalies but you've never thought to encounter one yourself any time soon.

Green Goblin was absolutely going on a rant about god knows what but it was incomprehensible to you, like he was speaking in a different language.

Once you reach the upper floor, Green Goblin perches himself up on the top of this globe looking statue. He had an arm wrapped around Briana's neck, proceeding to yell some nonsense in Italian, before pointing at you and Miguel.

"What is this guy even saying?"

Miguel doesn't bother answering your question, he's silent.

It was more than safe to assume that this guy was using Briana as hostage but considering the language barrier, figuring out what exactly he wanted was tough game.

You know all about how Green Goblins are like. Vindictive, cutthroat, and annoying. From that, you guessed that if he was going to drop the little girl if he didn't receive whatever handsome payment that he was expecting.

It was risky, but if you reacted quick enough then you might be able to catch her. Seemed like Miguel had figured that out also when he leaned into you and whispered:

"I'll find a way to get to him to drop the girl, you catch her. I'll subdue him. You got that?"

"Then what? I can't exactly bring her back to the city by myself but we can't keep her here while we're fending this guy off."

"Open a portal. I'll give you a day pass for her."

The statement shunted you a little. Miguel didn't particularly enjoy bringing back anything or anyone that wasn't an anomaly back to his dimension.

You don't want to push his buttons right now though and it's not like you were going to disagree, he puts a day pass in your hands before shooting a web at the statue to sling himself up.

His sharp talons dig into the surface of the sculpture, he swipes at Green Goblin in an attempt to tail onto his hoverboard but once again, the villain is quicker.

It's a small chase that goes on for a while. You move carefully and circle around the carving just in case that he'll let go of Briana or drop her on accident but the grip he keeps on her is firm.

A web shoots out from Miguel's shooter, sticking directly to Green Goblin's chest. He tugs on it harshly, causing the other to lose balance and fall off of the floating board. Briana along with it.

You jump and hitch the little girl into your arms, murmuring soft reassurances like 'it's okay' or 'we got it handled'. You carefully slip the day pass onto her wrist and it secures onto her tightly.

Good timing, a loud thud rings in your ears as you turn your head. Miguel presses the anomaly into the bare dirt, unfortunately he's still conscious.

You press a couple buttons on your gizmo, squinting a little as you're met with the same dizzying array of colors. You pat Briana gently on the back, ushering for her to go inside.

She seems hesitant but you can't exactly blame her, not everyday that a kid goes into an interdimensional portal. You rub the small of her back encouragingly.

However, just as she's about to enter, just as she's about to retreat to safety -

Your eyes widen in shock as a blade pierces through her body, she coughs and similar to the tears that continued to fall down her cheek now it was a stream of blood oozing out of her mouth.

Miguel seemed stunned too, he looks down to see Green Goblin with a shit-eating smile on his face and a hand out. He threw it. He killed her.

You don't even hesitate to catch her, watching as she bleeds out on your lap. "No, no, no. Briana, Briana?"

Almost immediately, Miguel lands a hard blow against the villain's head. Knocking him straight into unconsciousness, he pulls out another gadget that you couldn't find a name for but it activates some sort of cage around the anomaly.

You called out her name a couple more times, hand shaking above the spot she was stabbed but all she did was cough and cough and cough. Each one a painful reminder that she was nearing her end.

When her chest rose and fell slowly and slowly as the moment passed, when her skin went pale, when her body went limp. You realized exactly what happened.

You swore that the air got colder.

Slowly, you stood up. Letting Briana's corpse rest against the floor of the Alchemax. You could barely look back up at Miguel, who had another much unimportant body in his hands.

You couldn't stand looking at it anymore. Angrily, you snatched Green Goblin's unconscious body from Miguel's grasp and tossed it into the portal.

"We should go."

You grumbled. But your colleague's mind seemed to be elsewhere, he looked down at the lifeless child. Mind seemingly blanking.

"Miguel?"

Not much to your surprise as he simply walks past you, stopping a step away from the portal.

"Let's go."

request rules here, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #green goblin #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #tw death #angst #anon request #requests open

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deepouterspacecandy · 2 months

Text

The Wolf and the Fox

I’m feeling rather sentimental lately, so I just wanted to pop in here real quick and say that kindness matters. Kindness for yourself, and for others. If your art, whether that be writing or something else entirely, helps you navigate this world—it matters, too. I hope you feel safe today, online, and in real life. This piece and all my work, really, is 18+ only. This one isn’t hot and heavy by any means, but there’s some violence and sexual themes sprinkled about. If you enjoy it, maybe I’ll chip away at another chapter. Otherwise, thank you so much for spending some of your precious time with my words and my mushy heart. Be well.

“This rivalry—whatever it is—ends now,” Isaac barks, pinning you both with a vicious scowl.

Abby crosses her stubborn arms across her chest, a snarl curled on her smug lips. You’re struggling to control the urge to roll your eyes with such intensity that they detach from your skull and land on the floor.

“Not a word from either of you?” Isaac says as his glaring frustration builds. He points irritably at the chairs across from his desk. “Sit down. Now.”

“But I have training in twenty minutes,” Abby explains, her meek manner only apparent when she is around the boss.

“I don’t give a damn—sit!”

Isaac raises his voice, making her flinch, and a sense of gratification fills you. It quickly dissipates when he directs it towards you.

“Did I stutter?” he shouts, kicking at the legs of your chair for emphasis.

As Abby turns her head, a smirk spreads across her face, igniting a fiery determination within you to bring her haughtiness crashing down by any means necessary.

“If it weren’t for him, I’d drop your ass right here,” you mumble.

She opens her mouth to retort, Isaac’s hands slamming down on the desk, causing both of you to jump.

“Consider yourselves lucky I haven’t tossed you both in the stockades. I need you to get your act together before the next raid. Otherwise, I would not hesitate. You embarrass me.”

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, blowing out a heavy breath.

“Well, I’d hate to be the reason she ships off in a pissy mood,” you say, throwing your hands up in mock surrender. “Now you only have about a hundred other people to accost before she leaves.”

“Fuck you,” Abby says.

“Enough!”

Isaac leans back in his worn leather chair, and the metallic creak breaks the sudden silence of the room. The weight of his authority is suffocating, leaving your mouth dry, while Abby’s hands twitch anxiously beside you.

His finger jabs in her direction first.

“I expect more from you,” he says. “This ends here. Do you understand me, Abigail? I will not tolerate this petty behaviour.”

The verbal lashing doesn’t bring you any delight; instead, it serves as a painful reminder of her superiority over you and the respect the WLF has for her. Respect you’d happily offer if she didn’t treat you like a floating piece of swamp trash.

“You,” he says, his fury focused solely on your shrinking form. “I had high hopes for you. I’m now questioning my judgement and that does not please me. Are you trying to make me look like a fool?”

“No, sir.”

“Come again?”

“No, sir,” you say with conviction, dipping your chin in submission. “It won’t happen again.”

“Delightful,” he growls, his hands steepled in front of him. Sarcasm oozes out of his mouth like venom. “Tomorrow presents the perfect opportunity for you to address your troubles, as I’ve scheduled you both to ship out.”

Abby keeps quiet, but her head drops back with melodramatic flair. Your eyes involuntarily roll in response, unable to contain your annoyance this time. Isaac doesn’t ignore the barbs before him.

“With bells on, do I make myself clear?” he orders.

He gestures for you to leave the room, instructing Abby to stay behind for a mission briefing.

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In the gym, you can feel the tension and stress melt away as you push yourself to your physical limits. Amidst the clanging of iron plates and the rhythmic flow of blood in your muscles, your restless mind finally finds peace.

In an act of defiance, you increase the weight on the barbell, determined to spite Abby even if she isn’t there to see it. With the image of her smug face behind your eyelids, you push yourself through six strong reps, feeling your arms shake on the seventh.

Vascular hands appear above you, hovering just below the bar.

“Spot someone else,” you huff, adjusting your legs and arching your back.

“Seven is good. Eight is better,” Abby says, standing her ground. “Again.”

As the vibration in your arms intensifies, your frustration towards her swells.

“Use it,” she advises, leaning in closer for better guidance. “Let that anger drive you. Again.”

You’re considering quitting and giving her a piece of your mind. You picture yourself ripping into her and leaving without a second glance. Her body remains rooted in place, an unspoken challenge for you to make a move.

It’s the heaviest load you’ve ever pushed, and you can feel every ounce of weight straining your muscles. A guttural whimper escapes you as you force the weight up. Only at the end of your final rep does Abby touch the bar, leaving you to swipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Not bad,” she says.

You hoist yourself up and off the bench, returning the dumbbells you previously worked. It’s late, and the gym is empty save for the gargantuan pain in your ass following you around like a sullen shadow.

“You’re just going to ignore me now?” she asks, leaning flippantly against the squat rack.

“That was the plan, yeah,” you mumble, attempting to restore order to the chaotic pile of free weights, likely abandoned by a soldier with an inflated sense of self.

“Your plan is total crap, but okay.”

Trying to maintain your composure, you shake your head at her arrogance, staying focused on the task at hand.

“Look, we should try to get along,” Abby says. “I don’t want this affecting what goes down out there. People depend on us.”

“Okay, Isaac,” you say, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder with a scoff. “I’ve wasted enough time with this. See you at zero six hundred.”

Her voice echoes behind you as you push through the gym doors and into the dim, vacant hallway.

“Don’t be late!”

If your arms weren’t so sore, you might consider the idea of flipping her off through the window.

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

The rift between the two of you didn’t happen overnight. It resulted from a multitude of minor incidents and one miscommunication that was blown way out of proportion. As Abby trudges ahead of you on foot, swearing up a storm under her breath, you’re reminded of this.

“You’re being too loud,” you say, breaking into a slow jog, trying to catch up with her massive steps.

Even as you approach a full sprint, your footsteps are blades of grass in the wind compared to hers. As she spins on her heel to glare at you, you can’t help but feel a pang of embarrassment at how out of breath you are, desperately trying to keep up with her.

“Cardio wouldn’t kill you,” Abby says, waving a dismissive hand in the air before striding off. “I might, though.”

You contemplate staying put, observing how far she goes before she finally notices your absence. It’s likely that she’d travel two states over before she bothered to look back.

“Duly noted. Since we’re on the topic of what wouldn’t kill us, how about you practice walking like an adult human?” you quip. “Instead of a full-grown safari animal. Are you trying to get us assassinated?”

“Just you,” she says.

You’d love nothing more than to fling a sticky ball of mud at the back of her head and leave her sputtering. Unfortunately, you are miles from home and stranded without the vehicle you left the stadium in.

“Screw this,” you exclaim, raising your hands in annoyance before veering off from her direction and choosing to follow your own path.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Away from you.”

It’s incredibly reckless and potentially life-threatening, but common sense is the last thing on your mind. Before the WLF came along, you had already endured years of living outside the safety of the city walls. Currently, Abby’s actions are hindering concentration, and you’d rather deal with Isaac’s rage than spend another hour bickering with his golden soldier.

“You’re going the wrong way!” she shouts, her voice reverberating off the crumbling apartments.

Sudden, gurgled screams in the distance paralyze you. The racket seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, growing louder with each passing moment, turning your skin to ice.

“Oh, fuck!”

Chaos erupts as a group of decomposing Runners break through the glass doors of the building next to you, hell bent on tearing you apart. The sheer intensity of their shrieks overwhelm your senses as you fumble for your gun.

When Abby clutches your arm, it jolts you back to the present moment.

“Watch my six!”

With a swift yank, she hurls you behind her, rapid gunfire ringing out and adding to the deafening commotion all around you. As you empty your clip, the acrid smell of gun smoke fills the air. A runner emerges, and the lethal tip of your knife slides into his skull, dropping him like a sack of bricks. Your wrists ache as you slash your knife across any infected that break Abby’s barrier until you’re stunned by a pustular crawler who drags you to the ground.

Just as you think it’s all over for you; Abby fearlessly straddles the festering monster and snaps its neck.

With ease, she throws the corpse aside and pulls you up. Your wobbly knees collapse beneath you, expeditiously forged by gelatin and nothing more. Disorientation prevents you from formulating any brilliant escape plan.

You’re not sure how the two of you ended up barricaded inside an eighth-floor condo, but somehow you made the trek unscathed.

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

Spirals of peeling paint adorn the large, cracked walls, and you wonder how long the inhabitants survived when the pandemic struck. Despite the layer of mold and dust that coats every piece of overturned furniture, the scent of old leather wafts from the neatly aligned suitcases by the door.

You try to investigate who might’ve called this place home, but the clues are bleak. Empty picture frames rest on the fireplace mantel, with broken glass scattered about like grains of sand on a long-forgotten beach.

Abby disappears down the hall as you lose yourself in the moth-bitten curtains fluttering hauntingly against several fractures in the towering panoramic windows. It’s so quiet in this suite that you doubt anything is still lingering, even in the darkest shadows.

“Let me take a look at that,” Abby says as she flips over the loveseat, laying her jacket over its musty cushions. “Cop-a-squat.”

As you continue to stare at her, she fidgets, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. She clears her throat, gesturing at your ankle.

“You’re limping. Let me see.”

The adrenaline was pumping so hard during the fight that you didn’t even notice that you had rolled it at some point.

“It’s fine,” you dismiss. “We should check for scratches first.”

The snail’s pace you’ve adopted reflects your reluctance and Abby blows out a harsh breath.

“I’m clean, and that can wait—you don’t want that to swell up,” she says. “Come here.”

“Maybe I’ll turn when you’re busy playing doctor. Then what?”

You’re only half joking, but the way her mouth quirks up into a soft smile eases your mind. You can count on one hand how many of those you’ve witnessed on her. It’s a fleeting thought that you swallow down with the lump in your throat, but Abby is exceptionally pretty.

Yeah, you definitely caught Cordyceps.

“I decide who bites me and when,” she says, patting the sofa to hurry you along.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as her comment sinks in. Her inquisitive gaze dissects your response, and her modest smile transforms into a full-bodied grin.

“That was too easy,” she teases. “An unsullied girl, huh?”

Plunking down in front of her, you watch as she kneels to inspect your injury with a light hand. A dull throb blooms along your foot as she presses and maneuvers it. You do your best to suppress any wincing, but the moment she rotates the joint, pain shoots up your calf.

She pulls a medical kit from her backpack and makes quick work of treating your ankle.

“You are way off track,” you say, trying to scrape your dignity off the stale carpet. “Your train is taking a dirt road—that’s how off track you are.”

“Got it,” she smirks, wrapping the tensor bandage snug.

“And who says unsullied? A gravedigger from the fifteen hundreds—Jesus,” you say. “I didn’t realize you were a whole two centuries old.”

When she looks up at you through her lashes and giggles, the sound is more infectious than spores. You chomp on your lower lip to keep from smiling, but your cheeks sting from suppression.

“I read a lot,” she says with a shrug. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Abby’s rugged hands linger as she rests your foot casually on her lap. The weight of her touch is more comforting than you’re willing to admit.

“I’m personally more concerned about your pale complexion and aversion to sunlight,” you say, wiggling your toes to keep the pins and needles at bay. “Does Owen know you’re a vampire?”

She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip.

“Is this where you finally confess you have the hots for him?” she asks. “You’re off the hook now that he’s no longer my problem.”

It’s as if the God of thunder himself dropped you in an ice bath. As soon as Abby mentions the flat-out conspiracy theory, it extinguishes the glee building between your ribs, leaving you deflated.

“I never had feelings for him,” you say, pulling your foot from her grasp.

“That’s not what he said.”

“Yeah, well, your boyfriend is a fucking jerk and a liar. But that’s obviously no surprise to you, given how everything shook out with Mel.”

As Abby’s heavy gulp echoes through the hollow room, you stand up just in time to avoid registering the pained look on her face. Although you may not be her biggest fan, it never brings you joy to see someone sad, never mind take part in it.

You attempt to distance yourself from the resurfacing memory of Manny’s party. The night Owen’s unrequited alcohol-infused advances made a mess of everything. Until that deceitful night, he had been a loyal friend to you, and it still unsettles you to remember the needless drama his cowardice brought about.

“His story checked out.”

“Oh, did it?” you chuckle humourlessly. “Supreme investigative journalism went on right under my nose, and I had no idea!”

“Why can’t you just admit it? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You know what, Abby? You’re dead wrong. But I don’t have to explain shit to you. I’m going to sleep.”

With a purposeful shake, you rid her jacket of any dust before throwing it back to her. Driven by your determination to rise with the sun and get the long, miserable journey home over with, you stagger down the hall into the nearest bedroom.

Why did the damn Humvee have to malfunction and leave you deserted today of all days? If you didn’t get your butt handed to you on a silver platter, you would blame Isaac.

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

You are roused from sleep by a faint, repetitive thudding noise coming from somewhere inside the apartment. You blink against fatigue, the sky momentarily captivating you with its mesmerizing gradient of rich purple and blue. The shabby blinds filter the light, creating a lattice-like pattern of warm orange strokes on the walls.

It dawns on you that this dwelling must have been opulent in a previous time.

You stretch your weary muscles and track the sound until the subtle drumming leads you to the balcony. As the first light of dawn breaks, you find Abby poring over a tattered book, her heels absentmindedly knocking against the broken balcony ledge. Her long hair is golden and untamed, cascading down her bare back in wild ropes.

Your voice cracks from disuse as you mumble, “That’s one way to flag our team down.”

Engrossed in her book, she fumbles around for her damp shirt, the fabric slung over a nearby chair. Your etiquette kicks in and you hand it to her, averting your eyes.

“There’s laundry detergent on the counter,” she explains, dog earing her page to in favour of dressing herself. “It’s ancient but it smells better than I did, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Would you come inside already? That looks like it’s about to collapse. Aren’t you afraid of heights?” you ask.

Backward, she crab-walks through the sliding glass doors, her movements awkward and unsteady. As she hops up, the aroma of freshly fallen rain clings to her clothes.

“It’s not so bad when I’m distracted,” she says, thumbing at the abandoned novel. “How did you know?”

“Heard it through the grapevine,” you lie, gnawing at the corner of your chapped lip.

Following your team’s impressive escape through a high-rise complex, Isaac was the one who brought it to your attention. He thought that your fearless leadership would blend seamlessly with her fierce leadership, creating a formidable force. Abby could be the anchor that helped you find strength in your most terrifying moments, while you could be the guiding light that helped her find courage in hers.

Despite its initial promise, Isaac’s lack of realism is well-known.

“What are you afraid of?” she asks.

In this world, there is an abundance of things, enough to fill a scroll ten miles wide.

“People, mostly.”

She purses her lips, a frown pulling her feathered brows together.

“I guess I didn’t help much with that.”

“Yeah well, you don’t owe me anything.”

Her expression contorts as if she’s itching to argue against that statement. You divert her attention from the process by prioritizing the task ahead.

“We should go,” you say. “While it’s still quiet out there.”

She nods, pitching the book into a prehistoric pile of ashes in the fireplace.

It elicits a flabbergasted squeak from you, and she’s beguiled.

“What?” Abby chuckles.

“Now you won’t know how it ends,” you say.

“Nah, I’ve read this ending a million times,” she says, staring after the discarded book. “It’s nothing new.”

You would retrieve it for her if it didn’t threaten to leave your hands and all your gear covered in soot. Maybe her assumption is flawed.

“You’re just a rainbow of positivity in the morning,” you razz, and she snorts at your proclamation. “No, really. I’m floating on air over here.”

“You’re funny,” she says, and the sincerity of her tone takes you by surprise. “I didn’t let those monsters turn you into a zombie. That’s got to count for something, right?”

You suppose it does.

She takes extra care not to appear intrusive as she reaches over to lift the backpack from your shoulder.

“I’ve got it,” she says. “I’ll carry the heavy stuff today.”

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

As you settle back into the FOB, Isaac has you on light duty work assignments. It has helped you heal over the past four weeks, and as you’re easing back into your gym routines, you’re feeling strong. You find yourself in uncharted territory though, as this is the longest you’ve gone without joining a supply run—but lending a hand to the cooks in the kitchen is surprisingly fulfilling.

Avoiding Abby in the past has made it easy to continue to do so, even unintentionally. The only connection you’ve had with her since returning to base was through the stack of blueberry pancakes you whipped up for her team, which ultimately got passed on to her by someone else.

Since the mention of her name no longer brings you emotional pain, you’re satisfied with where things are. That is until Abby unabashedly leans over the cafeteria counter and whistles at you, attempting to grab your attention from across the kitchen.

“Hi pancake girl,” she smirks.

“Pancake girl?” you groan, drying your hands on your apron. “I’m officially banning you from assigning nicknames. I’m still recovering from unsullied.”

Abby’s mischievous expression brightens up the poorly lit mess hall before she quickly commits to a truly theatrical act of sulking—bottom lip jutted out like a little kid.

“Oh man, I hate being punished—for how long?” she pouts.

The line of people behind her seems to multiply, and you try your hardest to juggle multiple tasks, but it becomes incredibly difficult with her playful gaze fixed on you.

“The rest of your natural born life feels appropriate,” you say, sliding a jug of juice across the counter for a group of soldiers. “Or at least until you come up with something better.”

“I can work with that,” Abby says, shuffling aside to make space for the growing queue of hungry civilians. “Your pancakes were a hit, though. My squad won’t shut up about them—and I love blueberries even though they stain the shit out of my hands.”

Amidst the busy kitchen rush, a fellow crew member steps in to lend a hand, giving you a chance to take a breather. You chug a glass of water before giving Abby your full attention.

“I think it’s time we teach you about some ground-breaking eating tools.”

“Is that right?” she grins.

“Definitely,” you say, grabbing a roll of cutlery from the cart behind you. “For example, this here is a fork and knife combo. Rather brilliant in preventing blueberry stains instead of eating your pancakes like a toddler.”

Abby’s chin dips as she snickers, her spirited mood doing a fantastic job of lifting yours.

“What about that spoon thingy—where does that fit in?” she asks.

“Well, when you bless me with another horrid nickname, I can use this tiny shovel to dig through the floor and escape.”

The sound of Abby’s laughter is magnetic, drawing in everyone around her. She effortlessly embodies effective leadership, and it’s something about her you respect.

“It’s not usually this easy to make me laugh,” Abby says.

“I’m just that good,” you retort. “Unless you’re drinking on the job or something. Are you a day drunk, by any chance?”

She can barely contain her fascination as she shakes her head and looks up. The chow hall fades into a blur as soon as your eyes meet.

“No, I think it’s all you,” she murmurs, her fingers toying with the cuff of her sleeve. “Come on a run with me, okay?”

The clamour of clattering dishes and trays makes it difficult to hear her.

“I didn’t catch that. Come where?”

“A run with me,” she says, pronouncing each word like she’s teaching you to speak for the first time.

“They haven’t cleared me yet.”

“Not that kind of run,” Abby says, pushing herself back from the counter, brows jumping. “Meet me at the track later, yeah?”

Trying to bridge the growing distance between you, you shout, “How about no!” as she continues to walk backwards, awaiting your response.

Disregarding your answer, she calls out the exact time she expects you to join her, overpowering everything else with her radiant grin.

“But I hate cardio!”

“Don’t leave me hanging, lazy girl,” she chimes, shouldering through the doors until all that’s left of her is a whirl of confused flutters between your ribs.

Her sprightly tone gives that moniker a whole new meaning, making it the most tolerable by far.

By the time your shift lets up, the halls are serene, as most of the residents have retreated to their quarters for the night. By helping to prep the food for the next few days, you’ve lightened the load for tomorrow’s workforce.

Cardio with Abby is bound to leave you needing a rest day.

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

The stark contrast between the bustling stadium and the peaceful calm that descends after everyone wraps up their day never ceases to leave you in awe. You’ve spent countless hours in the nosebleeds, admiring the arena you call home.

While cutting through the gardens, the sweet, floral scent that fills the air enchants you. A basket of cherries precariously perches on the edge of an overturned crate, beckoning you to indulge in their juicy goodness.

After popping one into your mouth, you sneakily pilfer a few more for later.

Pushing through the gates with your hip, Abby catches your eye immediately.

Clad in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tank top, she jogs along the opposite end of the track. Her hair is in a wavy, swinging ponytail, and she looks like a completely different person from where you’re standing.

Despite your instinct to sprint and catch up, your legs remain rooted to the spot, inexplicably frozen. It is surprising to see such grace in someone who’s composed of mostly muscle and grit. The idea of how you might look while running enters your consciousness, a thought that never occurred to you before this moment. You walk just fine. Surely you can run without humiliating yourself.

“You made it,” Abby pants. “I was beginning to think you bailed on me.”

“I should’ve,” you tease. “I could be cozied up on my couch, watching the same movie over and over.”

“Which one?”

“The Breakfast Club,” you say with a half-hearted shrug. It may not be to everyone’s taste, but there’s an elusive charm that entices you to keep picking it up from the library. “It’s my comfort flick right now, I guess.”

Abby flashes a self-assured smile and nudges you forward with her elbow, urging you to get a move on. After a few minutes of walking side by side, you work up the nerve to inquire about the source of inexplicable happiness etched on her cheeks.

“I found that one, actually,” Abby explains, her shoulder brushing against yours as she drifts into your lane. “The Breakfast Club.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“The thing made it through a hellish trip all the way from Eastern Montana. I thought it might be the only thing that made it back for a bit there.”

“That bad, huh? Sounds brutal,” you say, your attention drawn to the laces on her left sneaker, as they slowly loosen. “Well, good thing the movie survived.”

“Ha-ha,” she drones. “You’re just hilarious.”

You appreciate her lightheartedness as she shrugs off the playful jabs, and you contemplate teasing her about her lack of spatial awareness as she keeps unintentionally bumping into you. As you notice her shoelace giving way and dragging on the ground, you swiftly extend your hand to her chest, signalling her to stop.

Without thinking, you crouch down in front of her to retie it, noticing her panting heavily above you at the ministration. Fumbling your first attempt, she chooses not to mention it and instead adjusts herself to make it more comfortable for you.

With one shoe firmly secured by a double knot, you see that her other shoelace is gradually unraveling. You fix that one, too.

“Don’t need anyone rolling their ankle,” you say.

You spring to your feet, causing her face and neck to turn a rosy shade that appears too vibrant for moderate exercise. You’re too preoccupied warding off the heat that is climbing up your own neck in tingly vines to tease her about it.

She softly whispers her gratitude.

Without ever picking up your speed beyond a steady stroll, you continue to complete laps on the track, the repetitive motion becoming almost meditative. She eagerly shares details about the book she’s immersed in, and you hang on to her every word, intrigued by her perceptive theories.

“Wait, did you invite me here just to talk about books?” you ask. “Because I have to admit, I don’t totally hate it.”

“I’m not boring you to death?”

“Not at all,” you say. A crisp breeze dances across your arms, and you to hug yourself to fight the chill. “It’s fun to read books through your eyes.”

“Hold up.”

She jogs toward the bleachers and returns with her bomber jacket in hand.

She clings onto it for a while, long enough for you to question if she intended to wear it herself. Abby clears her throat and clumsily extends her coat and her generosity to you.

“I don’t mind the cold,” she says. “For you—if you want.”

“Oh, so I get to choose now.”

“Yeah, but can you please wear it? The rejection is killing me a bit.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Even when she’s just messing around, she reveals delicate parts of herself that help you understand her more. With the garment draped over your frame, you jog ahead and give her a spin.

“Ay! Watch that ankle!”

“Oh, I’m back, baby,” you boast, darting back and forth to show off your agility.

She watches as you frolic around, and you swear the dorky smile on her face only slips when she catches herself doing it.

You stop in front of her, tracing the nametag stitched neatly below the collar.

Anderson.

“It looks way better on you. How is that even fair?”

“It’s all this running we’ve been doing—I’m the superior athlete now,” you jest. “You might as well quit while you’re ahead, Anderson.”

“Think you can back that up?” she asks, her competitive edge shaking to the surface.

She points at a couple of lamp posts across the field and starts the countdown. With a sudden burst of energy, you take off like a bullet before she’s ready, provoking her to hurl fake threats after you as she closes in on your head start.

Your uncontrollable laughter is hindering your ability to run as the thunder of her approaching steps grows louder. You cut her off before she can pass, interrupting her momentum and taking the win by a hair’s breadth.

“Not cool,” she huffs, folding over at the finish line. Catching her breath, she steadies her hands on her knees. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, right?”

“You’re just jealous I outsmarted you. All those muscles and for what?” you taunt.

Abby puffs out her chest in a defiant gleam of rebellion.

As you blindly try to free the rogue strands of hair that have become entangled with your lashes, you feel an annoying tickling sensation on your sweat-slicked face.

“Oh, come on,” you gripe.

“You’re ridiculous,” Abby says, drawing nearer. “Let me get it.”

With a slight tilt of her head, she patiently waits for you to acknowledge her offer.

“Close your eyes for me,�� she says.

You oblige, and suddenly, your heart pounds in your chest as her fingertip skims the sensitive skin between your eyelid and your brow. She meticulously brushes your hair back, tucking what she can behind your ears. A warm hum settles inside you as her touch makes your scalp tingle.

“Why are you being so nice?” you ask.

“It’s what you deserve,” Abby murmurs without missing a beat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t before.”

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian

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superficialdomina · 5 months

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Pain (Into Submission, Part 2)

Series masterlist

Note: This part is a continuation of Part 1, Vulnerable. If you haven't read it, may I suggest you start there? Big thank you to @acidcasualties for reading, suggesting, encouraging and just generally being spectacular.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. Implied smut, much angst. Awkward conversation and tortured metaphors. Loki's a bit upset.

Loki was avoiding you.

Since that night in the basement chamber, when you had held him as he caught his breath, and the light in the chamber turned from warm torchlight to the stone grey of dawn, he’d carefully managed to deflect your gaze – your presence, even, on multiple occasions. You sighed inwardly as you glimpsed the edge of his booted foot disappearing around the corner ahead of you. Again.

The memory of him vulnerable and naked on the cold floor remained rich and vivid in your mind. Images of him splayed before you – remembered and imagined – had been a source of much solo entertainment under your sheets in recent nights. Was there anything more deliciously seductive? Beautiful, powerful, dangerous… kneeling.

The two of you had had few interactions since. Briefings, meetings, public interludes that blurred and obscured your newly exposed power dynamic. It was difficult to read him. Superficially, he was as haughty as always; obnoxious and glib, his expression disdainful, his proud chin lifted arrogantly as he argued with the others over petty, trivial matters.

But there were tells. His eyes following you across a crowded room. His tongue nervously wetting an already moistened lower lip as you spoke. And once, that contemptuous laugh breaking off a fraction too early when your gaze fell upon him, his expression quickly and inexplicably contrite.

You frowned slightly at that memory, pressing your lips together as you felt a rush of frustration and lust. He had been avoiding you. It was mildly irritating, though not surprising; you had not expected his submission to be complete after a single orgasm in your hands. Fear, shame, ego - whatever their personal reasons, capitulation was rarely so easy, even in the weak ones. And if you could be certain of one thing, it was that this beautiful God was going to fight it.

It would make his eventual – inevitable – acceptance all the more delightful.

This morning was another irksome example. The team were congregating in one of the smaller conference rooms with general agitation, to “await further instruction” from Rogers. The tight space forced Loki to squeeze by you – to your utter delight, and his patent discomfort.

Less than a week ago, you thought wryly, you would have relished the chance to brush by my thigh. Gone out of his way for the opportunity, even. Pathetic little God. The idea was oddly emotive.

"Good morning, prince", you murmured as he passed, emphasising the lowercase "p" on the last word, weighting it with a subtle mockery that only you and he would notice. His eyes widened at your little neg, and you imagined him swelling in his too-tight trousers as you reminded him of his place. Did he want to fall at your feet then and there in the briefing room? Kiss your boot as you roughly twisted his perfect raven curls in your fingers? The God of Mischief might not quite be ready for such a public display of devotion.

Rogers droned on, and your concentration drifted.

Loki leaned in carefully orchestrated nonchalance against the window, his face set in his trademark smirk. From this vantage, you had an uninterrupted view of his full profile. He did cut a menacing figure, contrived though you were certain it was; long, lean legs rising up to meet slender hips and narrow waist, all sluttishly wrapped in black and green leather that dully reflected the morning sunlight. His broad shoulders rolled back regally, and you could clearly see the outline of his shoulder blades flexing gently with each breath.

Fuck. Pay attention.

You had been watching him more closely since that night in the chamber; knowledge was power, after all, and you had to find it where you could. He was so tactile - the way he traced invisible patterns on the backs of his hands when he was nervous; caught the condensation from the side of his glass and absentmindedly rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger as Steve repeated himself “for those in the back”. You followed his fingertips now as he distractedly drummed them across his leather-clad thigh, imagining them pressing into your flesh as he came undone beneath you. Gods, you needed to stop torturing yourself.

His hair was swept back into a low, tousled bun at the nape of his neck, exposing the soft skin there. Was there still the hint of a bruise where you had nipped his skin? Could he still feel where you had kissed him wetly across his magnificent jaw? As you watched his face, the corner of his mouth twitched up into the briefest smirk, and you felt another jolt of unexpected emotion. I miss him, you realised sadly.

The room broke abruptly, and you were suddenly aware that you hadn’t been listening for several minutes. You shot a quick look at Nat – had you missed anything crucial? Training, 3pm, she mouthed knowingly, and you nodded once in acknowledgement and appreciation. You probably deserved the eye-roll she gave you.

As the room emptied, you glanced at Stark’s fancy translucent wall clock and made a decision. 3pm gave you time to have a little chat with a certain Norse God.

It took several minutes for him to answer your knock, and you wondered briefly if he had been tempted to ignore you.

When he did throw his door open, he wore his usual air of regal arrogance; chin still lifted, shoulders thrown back. But you could feel his awkwardness – his movements seemed mechanical, his breathing a little rapid, his elbows held too close to his body to be entirely natural. He’s nervous, you thought with a thrill.

“Yes, Agent?” His polite words dripped with acid.

“Loki.” His face remained impassive, but he moved back just enough to let you step lightly into the room; his wordless acquiescence made your pulse quicken.

His chambers were richly and elegantly furnished, but dark and secretive. In the quick glimpse you had, you saw him reflected in every detail; from the furs lining the floor like area rugs (was that a polar bear?), to the Nordic relics and symbols adorning every wall. It was unexpectedly sensual.

Loki haughtily cleared his throat, and you resisted the impulse to slap him squarely across the jaw. His perfect, condescending jaw, you thought longingly.

Instead, you opted for candour with a side of hubris. “Why are you avoiding me, Loki?”

He scoffed imperiously. “I am not.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve made leaving a room as I enter it into an elite sport,” you insisted. “Why? Are you ashamed?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, angry, his carefully curated indifference now askew. “I have simply moved on to… other matters of interest.”

“You’re ghosting me?” You raised your eyebrows mildly, a smile curling your mouth. “That seems unlikely. I thought we had a nice time.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched, his legendary silver tongue momentarily caught by his growing and uncharacteristic rage. “That’s not – it is not a matter of -” Loki blustered meaninglessly, and you watched insult and fear battle to own the bitterness that swept across his face. With some effort, he collected himself, settling on a mask of seething outrage. “What do you want?”

“I have a proposition. A repeat of our previous tryst, and – hopefully – much more than that.”

He raised his voice – something you rarely heard him do. “I have neither time nor inclination-”

“Loki,” you admonished gently, “we both know that isn’t true. You can pretend it didn’t happen. You can deny how much you enjoyed coming undone in my hands, blindfolded and exposed.” You took a chance at stepping closer to him, reaching out to gently trace your hand up his outer thigh. “But I know what you felt.”

He didn’t move away, but his lips parted in a snarl that bared his perfectly white teeth. “You know nothing, Agent.” He had regained control of his volume, and his words were now menacingly low. “I am a Prince of Asgard,” he hissed. “I am a literal God. Why would I have any interest in what you are suggesting? This proposal,” his lips popped at the word, “is ludicrous and insulting.” He glared down at you, your hand paused at his beautifully curved hip, his chest so close to your face that you could feel it rise and fall. Desire thrummed between your thighs at his proximity.

“Is it?” You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze and reaching for the ascendancy and authority you knew you had, filling yourself with the memory of him vulnerable and naked and sobbing at your feet. “Surely what I can offer you is infinitely preferable to the deftly crafted pain you’re currently stewing in.”

He remained silent, but you imagined you saw the briefest glimmer of surprise dance across his face. What was it that you had said?

Pain.

Cogs whirred in your head. Loki had had plenty of experience with pain. Did he need it? Did he seek it? My sweet little masochist, you thought with a smile.

“You know, humans – and human-like Gods, I suppose – are the only animals that actively seek out pain?” you ventured tentatively. “You can’t train a mouse, for example, to enjoy spicy foods, or to find pleasure in intense exercise.” You continued to trail your hand up the side of his torso, fingers drifting over his sculpted obliques like a beautiful instrument. “Is that what you want, Loki? Does pain make you feel… alive?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “What could you possibly know of pain, Agent?” he hissed. “I have felt pain that you could not imagine; pain that would hurt you just to think about.”

You hesitated, unsure if you were going too far. "Are you sure you're not conflating pain with fear?” He raised his chin defiantly, but you continued quickly. “There’s a correlation between the anticipation of pain, and the intensity with which it is felt. That is, fear of pain is often a far more noxious experience than the stimuli of pain itself.”

He sneered down at you over his long, straight nose. “What exactly are you trying to say, Agent?”

“Only that physical pain doesn't have to come from physical violence.” You paused, willing him to catch up. “You might find pain without fear to be… enjoyable. Exquisite, even.”

“I…” Whatever he was going to say trailed off into the air behind you. You saw the muscle in his jaw quiver as he swallowed nervously.

“I know your feelings about it confuse you." You lowered your voice until it was almost a whisper. "Why would anyone – let alone the great Loki, God of Mischief, future King – why would you want to feel pain? But you do, don’t you? You need it, and you are consumed by shame because of it.” You reached up to stroke his cheek, but this time he turned his head away, eyes closed.

I’m missing something, you thought. There was a wound here… Maybe even one that you could heal. If I could just find it…

And it came to you in a rush that left you giddy. The thing he needed - the onlything Loki had ever needed.

“I am offering you a chance at authenticity, Loki; something that I hazard you’ve not had much opportunity for in your long, if somewhat apocryphal, life. I am offering you a place to belong.”

At your last word, Loki took an unsteady step backwards. His rage evaporated as quickly as it had surfaced; only desperation and sadness remained writ across his face, and you realised with some trepidation that it had been several minutes since he had spoken. You wanted to wrap him in your arms, caress him, hold him until all his fear and shame had been shed like blood.

Not yet.

When he did eventually speak, his voice was composed. “I think you should leave, Agent,” he said coolly, drawing himself up again to his full height, masking his softness once more in leather and steel.

You paused for a fraction of a second, then nodded, letting your hands fall and stepping back from him. Did I reach him? His door snapped closed behind you with a resounding click. I guess we’ll see.

Continued in Part 3: Lost

Tagging some folks who enjoyed part 1. No hard feelings if you'd rather be removed!

@lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @infinitystoner @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @thomase1 @kats72 @vickie5446 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @tomlugirl @lokisninerealms @missmushroomsstuff @ladyloki3 @fandxmslxt69 @sinsandguilt @sarahscribbles @lunarnights95 @meowmeow-motherfucker @simplyholl @divine-knight-hand

#sub!loki/femdom!reader #sub!loki #loki fic

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