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#COULD THEY GET ANY FUCKING HOTTER MY GOD
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not me crying and listening to lizzo and struggling to believe myself when i say "ive been through a lot but im still flirty" bc my girlfriend like grazed my lower back when she hugged me last night and i had to go home and have a fucking ptsd meltdown about it
#CANT EAT FOOD CANT HAVE SEX WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO AAAAAAAAA#THOSE ARE IN MY TOP FIVE FAVORITE ACTIVITIES TO SHARE WITH OTHERS#IVE BEEN TOO SCARED TO EVEN JERK OFF BC OF THIS WHOLE FUCKING THING IF I HAVE TO UNDO SEX PTSD AGAIN#IM GOING TO BE SO GODDAMN ANGRY#I ALREADY DID THIS#THEY DIDNT EVEN ASSAULT ME RECENTLY IM JUST KIND OF. ONLY BEING HIT BY THE FULL GRAVITY OF IT NOW#WHICH SUCKS BC IF IT HIT IMEDIATELY I WOULDNT HAVE HAD TO DEAL W ALL THE MEDIOCRE SEX I CONTINUED TO HAVE W THEM#I COULD HAVE JUST PUSHED THEM OFF AND BEEN LIKE (SCREAMS CRIES AND HAS A PANIC ATTACK)#SINCE APPARENTLY THATS WHAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH NOW#MY SHOWER QUITE LITERALLY DOESNT GET ANY HOTTER AND I ALREADY EXFOLIATE LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER#IM GONNA JUST HAVE TO START PEELING OFF MY SKIN TO MAKE THIS FEELING GO AWAY IM KILLING MYSELF#*im not. please dont call the helpline on me im already doing that at work#as soon as overtime pay goes away again and im back to a 3 day a week schedule ill go to therapy weekly#work is such ass if the crisis line can be fully staffed 24/7 they should at least be able to have therapy appointments after 3pm#or on weekend#u know...when everyone who works here actually has time!!!!#i have no idea where my other coworkers are fitting in therapy that we all are doing#ohhhhh they werent in toxic relationships that took up all their free time#oh my god i really have a lot of free time now#HOLY SHIT I CAN FINALLY PLAY ALL THE GAMES I BOUGHT#aaaaaaaaaa#oh my god wait i usually have mondays off i can just start having monday afternoon therapy and cafe food#no one likes that time slot for whatever reason but its really perfect for me omg
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sinning-23 · 4 months
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Calling Them By Their Full Name
OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy
Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious
Sorry for any spelling errors!
Luffy
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-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.
-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.
-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”
-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got
-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.
-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.
-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.
-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.
-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long
Zoro
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-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY
-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded
-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed
-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”
-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.
“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.
-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.
-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you
Sanji
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-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."
-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.
-You never use his full name like that. Never.
-did he just get chills?
-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.
-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.
-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.
-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.
Bonus: Mihawk
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-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.
-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.
-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand
-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!
-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.
-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.
-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.
-His look says it all. You’re screwed.
-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.
-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 5 months
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Choke On The Sun
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PAIRING: John Price x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: You'd known John ever since the Academy, and even after losing touch, the love you had for one another was never gone. Like a snake, it had stayed hidden in unseen places. But it was always there.
WORDCOUNT: 13.8k
WARNINGS: Blood, intense gore, torture, detailed descriptions of torture i.e. electrocution, loss of a finger, gunshot wounds, knife wounds, discussion of torture, canon-typical violence, death, near-death experiences, guns, weapons, abductions, betrayals, intended for mature audiences, happy ending, etc.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You remember a story you’d been told when you were a rookie—fresh off the cut and eager-eyed with far fewer scars. A more of a glass-half-full type of outlook on life, unknowing of what you’d experience during your years with the SAS: what choices you would have to make.
It went something like this. 
There was a herd of deer that had jumped over the side of a bridge. On either end of that bridge, there were two trucks with their high beams on—not moving but sitting there; the deer got pressured. Spooked. One by one they just…hopped over and died on the rocks below—no noise above the breaking of bone and the clatter of antlers shattering to pieces. 
You have to wonder if it was the fault of the first one who had jumped over for leading the rest to a quick end, or the drivers of the cars just trying to get where they needed to go; ignorant of the way they’d been ogling to see the panic in wide, black eyes. Either way, a whole herd of ten met their fate and left their bodies to feed the larvae and the birds. 
The story had been told over drinks at a pub, at the time you’d taken an interest in it with no more than a slow comment of ‘poor things’ before you’d brought your glass to your lips. You don't know why you’re thinking about it now. 
The timing could have been more opportune.
You send a bullet into the man’s kneecap, hearing the bone disintegrate and the flesh open like a flower. His scream follows, loud and hoarse—sobbing trapped behind a bitten tongue that drips blood down his chin. 
Hand snapping up, you grasp the lower half of his face with a grunt, head shoving itself forward until you lock onto fluttering eyes and get consumed by a whining sob.
“I asked you a question,” you lick your lips, tasting sweat as it slithers down your skin. Your voice is slow and even, grip tight. With a shove, you push back the man’s face, wrist limp with the Basilisk as you wipe at your nose with it, unblinking, when you get to your full height. 
The room wasn’t anything different from a million other black sites you’d been to. A single chair where your mark sits tied up, a desk that had been pushed to the wall, and a single door placed into the cracking foundations of a concrete wall. No windows. No vents. 
Hotter than hell, too, and that place was something you were acutely in tune with. 
��Anthony,” you say, waving your free hand as the scent of blood gets stronger, pools of it already on the hard floor. “I’m gonna call you Tony, alright?” 
Tony yells, wrenching his arms against the zip-ties and screaming until his voice is hoarse. 
“Damn you! I told you I don’t know anything!” He sobs. “My leg—I can’t feel my leg, oh, God it hurts.”
You frown, glancing at the door. 
“Stop lying to me,” you look back, eyes unblinking in the low light. “You still have one left—tell me where your buyer is and I let you keep the ability to walk upright with a cane.” 
“I don’t know his name—!”
“I don’t need a name, Tony,” you growl, irritated. “I need a location.”
“Copenhagen!” He wails, body spasming and hair dancing atop his head. “The warehouse is in Copenhagen, please, that’s all I know!”
You blink. 
“Denmark?” You mutter, brows furrowing. 
“Fuck!” Tony screams long, his skull tilting forward as he releases his guts to the floor through quick gasps. Backing up a step to stay out of the spray, you watch him silently; thinking. The flood of the man’s crimson fluids ripples. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 
“Denmark,” grumbling to yourself once more, you shake your head and sigh aggressively. “Of course.” 
Without another glance, you turn and exit the room, pushing your Basilisk into its holster as the gear on your chest clinks lightly like the sound of rain hitting a metal roof. The door closes behind you, voice calling to one of the guards as he looks up quickly. His face is pale. Tony’s wails still echo out; water filling a bucket. 
“Get a medic,” is what you settle with—slipping past on a fleet foot and new intel to pass on to Laswell. She’ll be intrigued, no doubt. 
One step closer, your mind hisses to you. Just a little bit longer.
It’s too late to gain a conscious now.
Emmett Kinsman had been dodging you for years—dodging the Task Force—but with one of his suppliers giving away a location you’d been unable to pin, there was hope for a swift resolution to this mess. 
The radio on your chest sizzles to life.
“Hart, sit-rep. How’s it lookin’ on the black site.” Kate’s American accent leaks into the earpiece attached to you, the cord looping the back of your neck and inserted into the shell; a device of black metal and plastic. 
“I have a location for Kinsman. Copenhagen,” you ease out, moving a finger to the earpiece and pressing. Glancing at the rows and rows of doors in this endless hallway of dark smoke and obsidian mirrors—you’re eager to get your boots to the ground. Your other hand snatches at the rag swinging from your belt, taking it out and rubbing at your face with it until the stain of oil and flecks of blood smear like frosting on a cake. “Where are the boys? I need to be wheels-up to meet them ASAP.”
“Coming to you.”  
“They’re here?” Your face twists as the words settle in, confused. “Why? Thought they were tracking another lead in Romania.” 
Kate’s voice is smooth in your ear, moving like water as you turn a corner, stuffing your rag back into your belt. 
“Are you surprised?” The woman jokes in a monotone; you’d only taken it as such because you knew her dry state of humor. “Really, Hart, you know he can’t stop until you’re back at his side. I was going to tell you sooner, but you were…occupied.” 
Your feet pause for a moment at the beginning of her sentence, instinctual heat moving the length of your neck until you clench your jaw and continue onward at a slightly slower pace—eyes narrowed on the floor ahead of you. 
“It isn’t like that, Kate,” you mutter. A low hum echoes the line and you fight a scowl as a group of soldiers walk past. Itching at your forearm, you shake your head. “John just likes having everyone together on missions like these. If it had been different, I’m sure he would have told me to fly back to them regardless of the intel. We’re tight on time.” 
“I’ve known you both for more years than I can remember,” Laswell sighs. “Don’t try that with me, Captain.” You frown, clicking your tongue. “They’ll be arriving on the tarmac—get ready for a quick exit. We need Kinsman by month’s end.” 
“Copy,” you utter, removing your hand from the earpiece and glaring ahead of you. A still-air silence envelopes the hallway, the only sound of your boots to the concrete and the reverberation that booms after. 
It was so quiet here. 
John Price—Captain Price—and yourself had a… complicated history. You’d joined up together; gotten through SAS selection neck-and-neck until time and its grubby fingers had forced your lives in different directions. Like two vines of reaching ivy, it had only been three years ago that you’d seen the other again, though you’d heard stories as you’re sure he had about you. 
Hart: not the kind that beats but the kind that bleats, you had to explain to most—you weren’t unknown to the darker side of the job and the people that specialized in it. Your file was stretched with so much black ink that when you’d gotten the call on your phone, an unknown number, you’d recognized the gruff voice behind it and the first question you’d asked was how the hell he’d gotten clearance to track you down. 
“No hello, then, Hart?”
“Not one for pleasantries, John. Explain. Quickly.”
“Business as always.” He’s wasted no time, voice going to a low grumble over the line that day. “Laswell took in a favor. You’ve been busy, Love…Room for one more joint-Op?”
It hadn’t panned out to only ‘one more joint-Op’. 
After the mission was over, it had been raining on base. The sky had shed tears from clouds deeper than the gray shades of your gear, splattering packed dirt and concrete. Above your head, the thin overhang off of the armory door had spared you some of it, but when the wind had shifted your clothes absorbed specks of water like spots on a fawn. Your eyes had been looking out—expression open. 
When the man exited the building and came up beside you, you both didn’t speak for a long time. You had been aware of his form, devoid of vest and gear, while yours was still layered with it to the utmost degree. You’d expected to leave that night—a good old-fashioned Irish Goodbye with a C-17 already waiting for you to board. To carry you off to another hellish deed done with ravaging cruelty for the sake of people who would never even know you existed.
The storm had stopped you…or, maybe something else had.
“Good to see you again, Hart,” John had stated, still not looking over at you as his arms had crossed, feet situating themselves. “Been too long.”
You had stayed silent—watching. The drain across the street was flooded. Sticks and leaves stuck at the drain as a whirlpool formed; only dangerous to bugs and the bits of garbage blown in by the wind. 
Only after the wind shifts again did you speak.
“And what has John Price been up to in that time?” Your eyes had slid to stare, piercing in the low illumination of the armory’s outside light. 
A huff of a chuckle, the one you’d remembered in the days of selection—coated in mud from crawling through man-made trenches and a sharp smirk of a snap when the barbed wire had grazed his back. 
There were too many stories here. Too many. So many it became impossible to wonder what could have been and what couldn’t—all that existed were the little moments of fondness.
The two of you were nothing else but souls long past redemption; stuck on that knife’s edge and waiting for the hand to shake and send you through it. 
You are made of memories. 
“That’s a story told over bourbon,” John’s lips had flickered, and you’d blinked slowly, head tilting. “Not anything worth reliving, yeah?” 
“Everything is relivable, Captain. You just need to find a reason as to why.” 
The man had nodded his head your way, conceding with his blank eyes ahead to the rain. A rumble of distant thunder had flown out, making your ears twitch. You couldn’t stop watching him now that you had the chance—the brunette strands; the fatigues, and that accent. The muscle you don’t remember him having in that specific place all those years ago. The wrinkles on his forehead from age and stress are shown in yours as a mirror. 
Tall; formidable. 
There was a tension in the air that you chose not to dwell on—the same that had been brewing for as long as you’d known him. 
“I want you to join up with me,” the sudden comment had made your body tense, eyes snapping away. In your pockets, your fingers twitch with surprise. 
“Join?”
“Thought I’d catch you before you disappeared again, yeah?” A sheen of slight embarrassment is over your skin. John chuckles again. “Extend a formal offer—Laswell was the one who suggested it.”
“Well,” you’d huffed, licking your lips. “Now I’m surely not accepting.” 
“Let me fuckin’ finish, Love,” John’s lips were pulled in a slight smirk—beard shifting. A pause as the wind whips again, shaking the trees before he grunts. “One-Four-One. My Task Force. Been thinking I’d need someone like you, but I knew you’d never agree to it.”
“Oh?” Your brow raises. 
“Not bloody stupid.” He sighs. “Thought I’d ask anyway. Give you a proper goodbye if you weren’t so keen on handing it out.”
“I don’t like goodbyes,” you mutter, hearing John’s feet shift—his boots scraping. 
“I know.” It’s low and even—not a prod or a dig. An observation. 
A hand is moved out to you, hovering. 
There isn’t any need for words when you glance down at it, and then up at him; staring into those blue eyes that so perfectly illustrate the hues of a roaring river, hidden away in the confines of a verdant forest.
A slow smile pulls at your lips, and you see the corner of the man’s eyes soften.
“Knew I’d get one out of you again,” he mutters as you slip your hand into his, a firm and all-encompassing heat of flesh and care. 
“Don’t get used to it, John.” Shaking his hand, you smirk, legs shifting. 
“Never,” he chuffs, squeezing your limb. 
You don’t know why you stayed under that overhang with him that night. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to explain it as you had looked up and seen the C-17 fly off without you in its cargo hold, hands resting on your vest collar and blue eyes watching you, slightly narrowed. 
You never even verbally told him you were sticking around…it had happened like a stray cat under the porch of your childhood home; taken in and cared for. Just the same, John never mentioned it beyond paperwork. 
Shaking your head, you blink back to the black site, turning that last corner and making it to one of the exits. Pushing the metal-reinforced door open, you shift outside and move a hand to cover the glare of the setting sun from your eyes, grunting. 
Laswell’s voice peaks back in as you jog toward the far-off body of a whirling plane, three figures just managing to walk down the ramp. 
“Hart? It’s Laswell.”
“Copy,” you say, knees taking the brunt of the heavy items you carry in pouches and have strapped to your form. “What is it?” 
“The Task Force is a go for Denmark—when you get there, I need everyone searching; we can’t lose him again.”
“Affirm. I’m on it, Kate.” You breathe. “John and I’ll get him. It’s personal for us, you know that.”
“That I do. Make sure to keep your heads on with this, Hart. Out.”
You lick your lips, nodding even if she can’t see you. 
Slowing as you near the plane, friendly smiles spark up from the two Sergeants. Gaz comes over, grasping at your shoulder and speaking above the engine behind him. 
“Ma’am! Good to have you back.” Soap chuckles, tilting his head your way as you grasp Kyle’s forearm—squeezing in greeting with a twinkle in your eye.
“Surprised to see us?” The Scot calls. 
You scoff. “Laswell gave you up.”
“Damn,” Kyle moves back, fixing the cap atop his head and glancing back at his fellow Sergeant. Simon nods from behind the two to which you respond in like. “She bloody betrayed us.” 
“Not as much as Kinsman,” the mood sours; lips thinning as you speak firmly. “Where’s John?” 
“Right here,” the man in question comes down the ramp, blue eyes meet yours. A second of inspection passes, eyes from both parties flickering up and down forms for any mistreatment—any ailments. “Kate already told me. We’re leaving now that we have you.”
Bumping Simon’s fist with yours as you pass him, you ascend the ramp, Soap muttering under his breath about the flight time from behind. 
Standing beside John, you pause like a bird, eyes half narrowed. “You didn’t have to pick me up, you know? I could have gotten another plane.”
The man the same rank as you hums, making sure the men are all inside and taking one last look out to the black site, eyes missing nothing down to the concrete structure to the lights that will soon illuminate the pure nothingness of the fields of this area.
��Wait time would have put us back.” Tiny eyes blink, a hand coming up to rest on his collar as his face shifts to you. “You good?”
“Always,” you mutter without hesitation. “Nothing from Romania, then?”
He grumbles, clenching his jaw and taking in your words. “Negative.”
A silence settles in which you quirk your brow—a small flicker of a smirk makes him turn away and stalk back into the hull, grunting in annoyance. You follow on silent feet. 
“That’s it? It must have been horrible, then. Care to explain?” 
“Get in your seat, Captain.” 
You hold back a low chuckle, walking beside him until you both come to the back of the plane—easing back into the hard plastic, you huff as you clip in your seatbelt. 
It’s all relative silence until the large metal beast is in the air; everyone's bodies shifting as the floor evens out. John and you take long breaths and, feeling the occasional jostle of the plane, you occupy yourself by picking at the dried blood all over your hands as the flight begins—Tony’s blood. 
Blue eyes blink down at you, watching from the side.
“He know anything important?” You stifle a yawn on your lips, one hand coming up to cover the open-jawed expression of tiredness. 
Glancing, you shrug with a slow response of, “Only a location. Even then I don’t know if it’ll pan out like we want it to, John.”
Everyone had been hoping for more, but they also knew that you were the best at interrogations and information retrieval. If you had called it that the man only knew a city and nothing else, John wasn’t one to question you. He knew better. 
A large hand shifts to grasp your right bloody one, picking it up and bringing it to his lap. You let him do it without protest, shoulders loosening at the roughness of his calluses moving across yours until the familiar ritual begins to take part like a black mass. 
Fingers twitching, you hear a hum as John takes out a rag from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his wrist. Moments later, the water bottle on the seat next to him is taken and the droplets that are left are scattered like rain over the fabric until they absorb. 
“All dirty, Love,” he grumbles as your eyes soften, watching him trace the lines of your palm with the wet rag—dabbing away the beads of red. Watching, you listen as he continues. “We’ll figure it out, eh?”
Blue locks with you, holding your gaze until the permanent set of his brows slowly loosens. “We will,” he reaffirms firmly.
“...I should have shot him when I had the chance,” you whisper to John, words low and tone nothing more than a mouse’s murmur; a small pebble hitting the ground. “Don’t lie and say it wasn’t my fault.”
“You’re going to fucking ruin yourself with that, Hart.” He advises, his cleaning of blood coming to a slow halt. “You did what you thought was best,” John leans in closer, not blinking as you try to move your head away with a half-hidden scoff. A damp hand grabs lightly at your chin, shifting it back as you blink in mild shock into John’s face. He doesn’t falter. “It’s all any of us can do, yeah?” 
As if it were nothing, he lets you go and shifts his focus back to cleaning your hand. You watch for a long moment, oblivious to the elbows hitting sides from farther down the hull, quick glances tossed between Sergeants and a Lieutenant who quirks a brow under his mask, huffing a sound in his throat.
“If I had,” you force back the stutter in your voice. “More people would still be alive.”
“Maybe,” John tilts his head, the rag brushing the length of your fingers. “Maybe not. We don’t know that, do we? No use wasting our breath talking about it then. What matters, Hart, is how we fix this.”
You sigh, repressing a shiver as his thumb brushes scars and blemishes, moving like moss over stone. 
“And we don’t leave our bloody problems for the next poor bastard, do we?” You puff air from your nose, shaking your head at the smirked comment. You watch John’s beard move with it—taking in the crinkling of his eyes and the way his knee hits yours. 
“Wonderful pep-talk, Captain.” You lean your head back against the netted sides of the aircraft, letting your eyes flutter shut; oblivious to the way he watches you. “The service is lost on you—therapist is right up your alley.”
“Fuck’s sake,” John scoffs. “I’d sooner go back to the academy than that.” 
“The food was utter shite, wasn’t it?” You agree.
“No need to bring it up,” John comments lowly, amusement thick in his words. 
You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you do know that the pressure around your limb stayed there for a long while—the rag moving over every sliver of skin until only the base was left behind; like a painter creating an ocean scene, shrouded in mist, every bit of red was gone. 
Your dreams are plagued by Emmett Kinsman. His sharp face; his sly eyes and his knack for being undetected.
He’d been a part of your and John’s class in the Royal Military Academy—when all was done, he’d graduated and begun to serve in the 22nd SAS Regiment just as the both of you had. There was never much interaction there, beyond shared drinks and a few good words, a single operation, but the bonds of brotherhood run deep. If given the chance over any deployment or service, John or yourself would have given your lives for him—for the boy you’d bled and persevered with to a point of utter loyalty akin to beasts; unrestrained by any threat of violence, sharp attitude, or past faults.
And in the end, he’d thrown that all away to get into bed with terrorists. 
Location: London, England
Time: 1718
Operation: ‘Purple Cloth’
Your eyes rest behind the glass of the bookstore, gazing out over the street from the second floor with a level of new-found skill and a surety in yourself. Fresh off the cut, you aren’t overly eager for this, but you’re assured in your abilities. 
There can be no failure.
Emmett is down below, sitting at a café and sipping tea as John is stationed at a building farther down the street; waiting. Another man, directly relaying information to Emmett, is at the café as well, sitting in the corner reading a newspaper and facing the individual you’re supposed to follow. Only the four of you for this, and you’re not overly familiar with half of them. John was your only shining grace. 
“Target’s getting the bill,” you shift your head into the collar of your shirt, muttering. “He’ll move soon.”
“He carrying?” John’s voice slithers in, a soft murmur. 
You stare, expression lax at the large body that shifts and stands with a tight shirt on, waving off the barista when she tells him to have a good day. “If I had to guess? Negative. Nothing big—no bulge at his spine. At the very opposite end, I’d say an X13 could be concealed and accessed via a slit in the pant’s pocket and in a holster at his thigh. They’re baggy enough for it, but the draw time’ll be longer. Drug runners are sloppy.”
John grunts, and you address Emmett. “How are we doing, Mate?” 
A smooth, suave, tone moves into your ear. “Not too bad, Sweet Thing. Else, I'd be better if you were sharing a drink with me before I disappear.”
“Only in your imagination, Kinsman,” John interrupts, unimpressed drawl taking your attention. “Keep on it.” 
“I swear I rank the same as you, Price. Where do you get off ordering me around like your dog?” The comment is so easily dismissed as a joke between comrades that there’s no hostility there.
“Since I was given oversight,” the amusement is easily taken in John’s voice. “I’m the one keeping your arse alive, eh?” 
The other addition to your team speaks up, a voice that in the future you’ve already long forgotten. He says to cut the chatter, and you have to agree. 
Emmett and the target are nearing an alley. 
“I’m heading down,” you utter, already turning and heading to the stairs, swiftly moving down them and exiting the building. 
“Copy,” John’s voice fizzles the line. “I’ll head them off.”
“Emmett,” you move to link up with the fourth member of the team as he joins at your side, both of you sharking a glance and a jerk of your heads. “Keep him away from civilians. We can’t deal with casualties in this populated of an area.”
“He won’t have a chance to shoot them,” the comment makes your brows furrow, the tone not a cocky gloat but rather...quiet. A moment of silence wafts out. “What in the bloody hell is that supposed to mean, Kinsman?” You frown tightly, your gut swirling with something unidentifiable. The X12 in the back of your baggy sweatshirt is heavy—suddenly ten times more so. 
In the corner of your eye, you see John far across the way shift, leaning before on a trash can, now standing upright. You swear you lock eyes with him, both gifted in all sense when it comes to war. Perhaps it was ingrained into both of your DNA—a knowledge of all things deadly; of threats unseen. Some primal and horrible understanding spanning back to when man had first raised a fist to another. 
“Oi,” your voice pushes. “What does that mean?” Feet pivoting, you move closer to the alley where the light shade of hair disappears. 
The line is silent. 
Silent before a loud gunshot rings.
Birds scatter, and you instinctively duck down, hand snapping to your service weapon as your eyes go wide. Head snapping about, you dash to the alley opening above the screaming; pushing past fleeing people.
“Hart!” 
“He’s in the alley!” 
“Do not engage until I get there, do you hear me?!” You’re already at the entrance, X12 ahead of you, and the safety flicked off with a heavy finger. “Hart!”
The body of your mark is on the ground—a bullet in the back of his skull. 
“Fuck!” You shout, feet slapping the concrete as you zoom past. “Price—target’s down, Emmett shot him in the damn head, on his tail now.”
“Fucking hell.” The man is growling out at you, voice heated.
Your eyes snap this way and that, weapon at the ready as you take a sharp turn. At the very end of the opening, you see him. 
Kinsman slips his service weapon back into the base of his spine, pulling at his shirt to cover the grip as a mass of the crowd is just behind him. He rushes quickly on long legs. 
“Emmett!” Your voice makes him freeze. There’s a long pause before anything is spoken; you have your sights trained—a perfect line-up to the roundness of his skull. 
“I had hoped to be fast enough,” the man tells you, head tilting to the side, “but I should have known you’d move head-long into danger without backup.”
“Hart,” John’s voice nearly startles you from the line. “Sitrep, now!”
“Why would you do that, Emmett?”
“There’s more to this than being pawns, Hart,” Kinsman growls at you. “I play my game right, I always come on top. I needed to earn their trust; our target had a price on his head and no one else could get as close as me. Well,” he pauses, “us.”
“I’m taking you in,” you grit your teeth, hands tight on the gun. You don’t even want to think about what he means by ‘their’ or his ‘game’. It was always word puzzles with this man—one second you had the right piece, and the next the entire picture had changed like sand in the waves of a tide.
“Are you really that torn up about a drug runner?” A scoff makes you hold back a snarl, but your resolve is shaking. This was a man you had trusted—now fast can something that was forged with steel break?
“He was just some filthy nobody, Hart.” Emmett starts walking into the crowd ahead of him, and in your mind you know if you take that shot you run the risk of shooting an innocent civilian. “I’ll be more than a nobody. Or a grunt soldier. People are going to know me.” 
Bodies flee quickly—screams. Mothers, children, husbands.
Kinsman smirks, and as your finger tightens on the trigger, he’s already swallowed by the hoard. 
“I’ll be seeing you.”
John and you sit in the safehouse, for a moment, surrounded by quiet and the smell of hot tea. One week in Denmark, and you have no leads. The other three are away, sleeping in the rooms down the hallway. 
“You’re still thinking about him,” John speaks up, eyes on you. It’s blunt, but that was just how he was. 
You peek your eyes open slowly, your body slouching in the chair and feet outstretched under the table. Your boot lightly touches John’s own. A long sigh exits your nose, grumbling on your tired lips. 
“John,” you level, drawing the name out like the years of your life. A thin warning. 
The man clenches his jaw slightly, bringing up his cup and taking a slow slip. You see the flesh of his throat bob with the liquid as it goes down, the overhead light of the kitchen only a single bulb of warm glow. 
“Been chasing him for years, Hart,” he says when the item is back to the woodgrain. Voice a deep murmur—a scrape of vocal chords. “We both have.”
“He knows too much,” you reply. “I can’t let him get away again. Strategies, operators, everything.” Your eyes shift as your head raises, blinking away the sleep in your glinting orbs. “For years he’s been under our nose, getting away with who knows what—”
“Hart,” your rant is interrupted, and you stop with a snap of your teeth. Blue eyes lock a concerned sheen to them. “Breathe.” 
Your face moves away, arms loosely crossed over your chest tensing. 
John’s body shifts to you, leaning forward until his elbows are resting on his knees. He stares, brows a line on his flesh. You send a swift glance, lips pulling. 
“...Stop that,” your voice murmurs, echoing off the walls of the kitchen. John blinks, not speaking as you move in your seat. The man tilts his head, a slow something making his lips go back slightly. Gradually, your face goes hotter, blinking at him a few times; sucked in like a fox to a trap. “John, quit it.”
“M’not doing anything, Love.” 
“Bullshit,” you try and glare at the looseness of his expression, his smirk that makes your gut tighten. Goosebumps move up your arms. “You’re a horror.”
A low chuckle wafts out, John shrugging casually before he leans back. 
He takes up his cup again and takes down the last of the remnants. “Go to sleep,” hits your ears as your pounding heart takes a breather. It’s a grumble on the air—not as much an order as it is a suggestion. “It’s late.” 
You decide to sip at your own drink as well, eyes drooping at the steam that wafts around your face, nose twitching to the scents. 
“You?” John hums, looking you up and down; seeing the fatigue you carry. You’d been relentless for the week you’d all been here, holding the few strings of the lead you had to your chest—five-fingered grasping with a desperate prayer to all things unholy.  
“I’ll be here.” You tilt your head his way, eyes still half-closed in your seat. Your answer is easy, pushed out in a slow sentence. 
“Then so will I.”
John sighs under his breath. It’s a moment before an exasperated chuckle moves through your earbuds. You smile, eyes slipping closed fully. 
Yet, they startle back open as the cup is taken from your hands, your chair moved back firmly. 
“Up you get, then,” John grunts, and his arms snake around you. Blinking quickly, your jaw is slack as you get taken up into a tight carry; John’s chest firm and your nose brushing the side of his chin. 
Air getting sucked into your lungs, you stifle a hitch in your breath. 
It’s only after he starts walking forward, hiking you farther up into him, and his fingers gliding over your clothes, that you start to relax. His heat seeps like a warm fire.
Head sagging to the side, you grumble into his neck as you miss his eyes looking down at you, eyes soft in a way only you would have been able to see. “Can walk, y’know.”
He hums, head shifting back to the hallway as he carries you to the last door on the right, bumping into the wood with his shoulder and shifting to walk in sideways so you don’t let your legs on the frame. 
“Remember Preu? 05’?” John asks you, moving over to the bed and setting you down slowly, a tiny huff exiting his mouth. Your body sinks into the mattress, head to the pillow as your hand comes up to rub at your eyes. The man moves to grab the blanket at the end of the bed—knowing your trained habit of sleeping atop the comforter on operations; not tangled up in sheets just in case. He slips off your boots. “Carried you two miles.”
“I recall it,” you grunt, a tired flicker coming to your lips. “Bleeding out and all.”
“Well,” John hums, quirking a brow. “Wasn’t about to let my Hart die on me. Blood was the least of my worries.” 
Your pulse flutters at the title, even if it’s just your codename and not the beating muscular organ inside of your breast. 
My Heart.
But it’s never that simple. 
A hand moves up your cheek, a kiss pressed to your forehead. 
The both of you already know you love each other. It wasn’t a secret. You were smart; eyes sharper than a blade—you caught the way he watched you, saw the softness of his expression, and felt the drag of his hand. Just as he caught the way you stayed beside him, an ever-present pair of eyes watching his six. The content nature that only you showed him. 
With feet so eager to leave at any moment, it said much that you chose to exist near him simply because you wanted to. 
You loved each other. 
Boil it down, and you’d both known even back in the Academy that it would be the two of you at the end of all things. The rivers said your name. The valleys rustled with the breeze of your breath. You saw John in the bits of water that sloshed the rocks and in the earth beneath your palms. 
Over the years you’d been apart, the yearning hadn’t been any less sharp—any less potent. In every birdsong, the echoes of the other's voice flew and disappeared on wingbeats. In everything that existed, there was a fraction of what should be. 
What should be. 
“John,” your voice is a whisper, nothing more than a rustle of a cloth. He keeps his lips to your forehead, resting there for a moment against all sense and responsibility. John’s eyes droop down, lashes resting on the swell of his cheeks. “You know I love you.”
He takes a breath. Rain is in the air—the movement of a storm’s wind. A leaving C-17. 
It’s a low mutter into your flesh.
“I know.” 
You grasp at his wrist, pulling lightly. Without a noise, John slips in beside you, kicking off his boots with a single clop of the soles to the wood and the movement of your blanket. He grunts, pushing his nose into your scalp, arms going around your middle. Your head slots under his chin, lips to his Adam’s apple.
The house is silent beyond the murmur of the pipes—the buzz of awaiting electricity. 
So many memories. So many lost dreams. It was akin to two skeletons lying in a grave of their own making, forever holding the bones of the other. Duty and honor are etched into the fractures. 
But he still holds you, he still murmurs into your ear, “Sleep, Love.”
“And you?” You ask, mirroring the conversation in the kitchen.
John’s lips move along your flesh, moving into a soft smile as he glances down at you. His beard scrapes you delicately.
“I’ll be here.”
Then it is here you’ll stay, dreaming of deer and the way nothing could compare to how he held you in his arms.
“I have eyes on,” your head snaps up, blankly staring ahead as your fingers hover over the hanging beads of a wind chime. You stand outside of a restaurant in the heart of Copenhagen. 
Laswell had sent in more eyes for the Task Force to use—local soldiers that knew the layout of the city better and where would be a good place to look. For days you’d been moving through the streets; far-off storage units and hidden buildings providing fruitless harvests. Anthony had said a warehouse, but that was panning out as nothing as well.
False information? Possibly, but unlikely. The man had been genuine in his pain and pleading, and it only served to confuse you more.
You had Gaz with you and five others, taking over as the leader of this fireteam while John headed the other with Johnny and Ghost. They were on the opposite side of the city, and you can’t help but compare this to the moment Emmett had become an enemy. 
But divide and conquer was the only option in times like these.
Emmett had become someone, just as he said he would. The man was in charge of supplying arms to terrorist organizations all over the world, and with his knowledge of how the SAS operates as well as any number of special forces, he’d utterly disappeared off the radar.
A wraith of lies and murder.
He had locations all over the globe with his goods, shipped out for money and power. 
And now you have a positive ID.
“Where are you,” your voice is hard and stiff, the body already moving back from the chime and leaving its little bits and bobs swinging. 
“Café down the street,” feet nearly locking together, you continue down the street to where you know Gaz’s last position was. “He’s just…sitting there.” A pause. “You want to know what it’s called in English, Ma’am?”
“The café?” your brows furrow, jogging across the street. 
“‘The Warehouse.’” Growling under your breath, you shake your head and send a curse into the air after a pause.
“I think the man thought he was clever,” Kyle’s voice is smooth and teasing. 
“Should have shot his other leg,” you grunt. “You told Laswell? John?”
“Negative, I’ll get on it—”
“I’ll do it,” you interrupt. “Tell the others to group up at your position and spread out to create a choke point; we can’t let him get away.”
“Rog. Will do.” 
You patch into John’s frequency.
“We have him,” you instantly breathe out. “Down Holbergsgade—café called ‘The Warehouse’.”
It’s swiftly that an answer hits you. “Get him surrounded, we’re coming.” 
Your heart is moving rapidly, fast in your chest as you pass people and business quickly. You didn’t like this—didn’t like the similarities, the…nostalgic dread that builds. A café of all places? Sitting down? Waiting?
It was so ironic it made alarm bells go off.
“John,” you lick your lips, glancing at faces as they pass. “I think he knows we’re here.”
“Explain.”
“A café?” John’s low grunt lets you know he understands. “Just sitting there? He knows—he’s not dumb enough to throw away all of his secrecy just as we so happen to get here and begin looking for him.”
“How sure are you?” The man takes your words into account, and you hear his breath puffing as he runs to your location. 
“Ninety,” you breathe. 
“Then I’m callin’ it off.” Your eyes widen, feet skidding as you come to a stop. 
You have no clue as to how far John will go to keep you safe—even if it means potentially letting one of the SAS’s highest HVTs go. There wasn’t anything that could compare to the thought of you getting in harm's way. Not you. 
John had spent his whole life watching soldiers die in the worst ways possible; they haunted his dreams and he knew they’d follow him to his grave—men he’d led down paths that they never should have been on. 
Not you. 
Losing you would break what little was left of him, the remnants held on by tape and sheer stubbornness. One of the last old faces he could still look at anymore; could draw comfort from in the thin hours. To hold and to love. 
You both knew you wouldn’t stand for it.
“No,” your voice cuts across, monotone. “I’m not allowing that.”
“Bloody hell, Hart, listen to me—do not,” John growls, making your spine tingle, “go after him. If he knows we’re fuckin’ here, we need to pull back and close off the area.”
You’re walking forward, that same pressure of a gun at the back of your spine. It was almost poetic. 
A thought sparks. Years of knowledge and understanding lighting up. 
Emmett was a snake. 
A snake that liked to play games and prove points; greed stuck into his brain for reasons you can’t quite say for certain. Even if you did catch him, he would never tell the locations of his goods or the buyers.
But there was one way to find out. One way this might turn.
“There’s a tracker in my arm,” you speak, growing more sure of your actions with every fast movement of your body. The café is just up the street, and a head of blonde hair is a knife to your vision. “I asked Laswell to insert and monitor it years back when I had to infiltrate a cell before I joined up with you again. Cautionary procedure since I had to forgo my rig and gear.”
A sharp bark. He knew what you were insinuating. “Hart!” You were going to get yourself taken hostage.
“Get Kate to watch it, John.” You move off his frequency before he can comment again, half of a roaring refusal cut off. Speaking to Gaz with a restricted throat, you say, “Kyle?”
“Right here, Ma’am.”
“Good. Don’t engage—I’m moving in.”
A stiff breath is taken in. “W…what was that?”
You don’t reply, only saying, “Whatever happens, I order you and the others to stay back, yeah?”
Your hand pulls the earpiece out and shoves it into your pocket right as you slip into the chair directly across from Emmett Kinsman. 
“Emmett,” you say in greeting, moving up a few fingers to a barista with a low call of your order. The individual nods and moves off before you lock on green eyes; they nearly make you flinch. 
You can only imagine what Gaz is telling John right now. 
Kinsman blinks at you, but he isn’t surprised. You were right.
“Hart,” the man smiles. His voice is still the same, though he looks older. “Pleasure seeing you again. Enjoying the sights of the city?”
“Not particularly,” you stare at him.
He chuckles, tilting his head before he brings his drink to his lips. He swallows and continues. 
“You always were serious. No fun.” You take the insult without any emotion, blinking at him slowly. What was his play?
“Why?”
“You already know why,” he shrugs, dressed in a nice suit. “I’ve made a name for myself—my name will be remembered for ages.” A twinkle in his eye. “SAS soldier turned weapon supplier; isn’t it exciting.”
“It’s a disgrace,” you lean forward, only stopping your voice from rising as a cup is placed down in front of you by the barista. 
Your face plasters a fake smile and you nod, moving it in front of you. Emmett watches with a smirk.
“I call it a change of heart.” He sighs, smirk simmering to a casual smile. “But I am glad to see you, you’ve been creating a big mess of things and I took it upon myself to have a meeting between us as old friends.”
“I’m not your friend,” you growl. “You’ve killed innocent people for no more than a fucking paycheck.”
“Well,” he snorts. “I don’t kill anyone. I’m the middle man—there’s a difference.”
Rage makes your eyes go to slits.
“And innocents, Sweet Thing?” Emmett leans in closer, face so smug and open you want to pull your weapon on him and worry about the consequences later. “What do I call what you do then?”
“A necessary evil,” you huff. “One I carry on my shoulders just like every other soldier does. One that was far better than supplying terrorists.”
Kinsman shrugs, moving back and picking up his drink, swirling it. “If you say so.” He hums. “You have to try the pastries here, you know. They’re very good.”
“I know you’re here because you expected us to find you, what I can’t figure out is why you broke your cover in the open instead of turning yourself in.” You look around at the faces in the outdoor seating, studying them trying to pinpoint if they’re civilians or in league with Kinsman. “Tell me before I decide to shoot you right here and now and end this regardless of hidden goods.”
“You already tried that, Hart,” Emmett laughs. “Pointing a gun at me didn’t work last time.”
“I’m not going to use a gun,” you ease out. “I’m going to take the butter knife on the table and slit your throat.”
“Uncivilized,” Emmet grumbles, frowning at the silver object near your hands. “It isn’t even sharp.”
“Good.” Green eyes narrow, unimpressed. He sighs, fingers moving in an outward gesture of exasperation. 
“If you must know before the main finale, I wanted to bring you here to say that I’m thoroughly impressed with your drive.” You try to stave off the shock in your stomach at the words coming out like a charmer’s flute. Raising a slow brow, you’re caught off guard. Emmett chuckles. “You nearly caught me at several instances throughout our game of cat and mouse. Many times I forget who the assigned roles were even given to; I’m telling you that I had fun.”
You stare, face tight. 
Emmett hums and his eyes go to slits. 
“But every game has to come to an end. I’m growing tired of it.”
The building across the street erupts into a great ball of fire.
John hears the explosion in the air, the shockwave that leaves his body halting to look into the sky in time to see black smoke.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “Fuck!” 
He rushes into the panicked crowd, memories stuck in his head and a bone-deep fear he’d been feeling since you cut the connection in your earpiece. Gaz had been relaying to him what was going on action for action—a football game, only the difference was that your life was on the line. 
“Kate,” John shouts. “Get the authorities down here now! We have an explosion on Holbergsgade.”
“Explosion?” The woman’s voice is sharp and disbelieving. “What’s going on—”
“Hart’s in the bloody crossfire, there’s no time!” John’s face is tight, wind whipping past his ears as screams fly on the wind; crying. “The fool is trying to get herself taken fucking hostage for intel!”
Whatever else was said was lost to the wind—Gaz comes over the line, calling to him in a panic as Johnny and Simon join in. 
“The entire building just went up in—”
“Fucking Christ—”
“Price, what is this?”
“All of you get down here!” John sprints past people on the ground, ripping his gun out of the back of his waistband. There’s no arguing. 
When the Captain turns the last corner, carnage greets him. 
The building across from the café was reduced to nothing but rubble and a still-burning flame. Eyes wide, John only looks at it for a few moments, too preoccupied with you.
Where were you? 
His jaw clenches, eyes burning with rage. Such a perfect soldier yet such a flawed sense of teamwork, he had a feeling you’d try something like this—had left Gaz with you for that very reason. Fuck he should have been at your side. He should have known. 
A low grumble moves through his lips, head snapping all around. There are bodies on the ground. Blood pooling under thick building material—fabric in the breeze. 
“Hart!” John yells, running to the café and seeing the remnants of a fast fight. 
The Captain’s heart drops to his feet, face burning with hellfire so much that a sheen comes to his cheek. His hand moves out to touch the handle of a butter knife that had been slammed into the table now half-fallen over, eyes stuck on only one thing on the ground under it.
Through the wails and the call of sirens, the man stares at the two long fingers sitting in the dust.
Never in his life had he felt a fear like this.
“I wanted to be kind about this,” Emmett fiddles with the wrappings of his bandaged left hand, only three fingers remaining. “I was going to make it quick.”
You’re locked in a cell-like room, head to the side and blood leaking out of a cut face. Burns travel up your arm, the sticky puss leaking out only serving to make you shiver. You don’t know where you are—don’t know what happened after you severed Kinsman’s fingers with that knife.
But you know the pain isn’t something that you haven’t already gone through before. 
Your voice is hoarse but firm as it leaks out of you, vision spotty. You’d been thrown in here after a ride in the trunk of a car. The ground is concrete. 
“...Don’t make me laugh.”
Emmett growls, eyes wide with hatred. 
“Pathetic!” He barks eyes looking you over with disgust. “Look at what you did to my hand!”
His other hand connects with the bars of the cage, producing a metal ringing sound as you push yourself up with one arm, eyelids flinching in pain. Sitting up, your body falls back to the wall behind it, and you grunt when the air in your lungs is expelled. You lick at your dust-coated lips, your head ringing and your focus failing. Concussion. 
“Least of your worries,” you roll your jaw, a wave of pain making your body seize up and your hands tense with quivering shakes. Your mouth opens with sharp pants. Bile pools in the base of your throat. 
It’s nothing. 
John will come soon. The tracker. If Laswell can get it working again, you’d be out of here and you would have whatever this location turns out to be and the intel that it can offer you—computer databases would be a one-and-done game. You would get names, coordinates, and buyers. It could all be over. 
Your clothes are melted into your skin, and when you move, they peel away with the remnant of your epidermis. The flesh of your left thigh and arm had taken the worst of it—and the cut from flying debris over your left cheek hasn’t stopped bleeding. 
Blood drips from it, and a loud ache makes your head pound all the worse. 
You’ve gone through worse.
“I don’t know why I bother,” Emmett snarls, the crimson bandages thick over his hand. “But it isn’t a problem,” he says, moving his other hand to slick back his hair. “It isn’t a problem,” the man utters again. “You’re going to help me. Yes…I’ve made up my mind. I need you to understand why I do the things I do.” 
Your brows furrow, but above this burning in your head, it’s hard to understand what’s being said to you. Shadows move and Emmett orders one of his men to open the cell door.
You fight the black dots at the sides of your vision, leaking until you’ve accepted the reality of yourself going unconscious. As your body slouches to the side, hands ruthlessly grasp under your arms and drag you to your feet. 
“Everyone has a breaking point.”
“What do you mean,” John glares at Laswell, his arms crossed over his chest; hands tightly grasping at his biceps. “You can’t find her?”
“The tracker was old, John,” the woman tries to explain, furiously typing at her computer that rests on the table in front of her—her spine bent over as the rest of the One-Four-One stay in a limbo of anxious looks. “To get it working again, it would need something to restart it. I don’t know if you can see,” Kate’s eyes are hard as they lock with his, “but I can’t do anything if she’s not here first.”
“Well of course she’d not bloody here Laswell, fucking Kinsman has her!” He shouts, hands moving out in a display of aggression. 
“Captain,” Kate rises to the challenge, hand moving flat to the table and glaring with the heat of a thousand missiles. “Do not take that tone with me.” 
John snarls and jerks his head away, feet on the ground trading weight. 
The man was borderline feral—all snapping teeth and sharp glances. Gaz had seen him like this only a handful of times, MacTavish even fewer. Ghost, of course, knew, but even his brown eyes wouldn’t leave his Captain, absorbed in the way he was unable to stay still for even a moment. He was in full gear, too. Had put it on directly after returning to a local base. 
John was ready to go to war, down to the rifle that swung from a strap at his side, the ammunition stuffed to his chest—sidearm at his thigh. A rabid dog with intelligence and the knowledge of where teeth needed to be applied to a neck for a clean kill. Simon doubted he wanted it to be clean.
John was ready to rip people to pieces. 
“Give me something,” the Captain says in a low growl, beard shifting. “Give me what I need.”
Kate splays her hands. “All we have is surveillance of a car leaving the area—the smoke covers all chances of the drone we had flying picking up a clear picture. John,” Laswell eases, standing up, “there’s only so much we can do. We need to wait—”
“We can’t bloody wait,” Gaz speaks up, “What’ll he do to her in the meantime?”
“Garrick’s right, we need to be on the ground with this.” Johnny nods, mohawk bobbing. “That’s one of our own—we’re not sitting around with our thumbs up our arses, Laswell. Not with Hart.”
Simon blinks, humming. Laswell’s eyes shift to him, near pleading for one to be on her side with this and see sense. Ghost shrugs. “I’m with them. Hart’s one of our own; we’ll do what needs to be done.”
John’s chest swells with pride while his eyes get stuck on your file on the table, your printed picture, and your black ink—he’d never loved an image more, but nothing could beat the real thing. He needed you back. He’d gone through hell with you for his entire life; you’d suffered with him and only locked your hands together and held on tighter. 
That was love—that was duty.
John Price wasn’t against skewing his morals for the sake of your safety. You would always be his most important mission. The man didn’t want to think about what might happen if he found you too late.
“Give me the video of the vehicle,” he grunts, jaw tight and his eyes beady. His body slightly leans forward to Kate, love going lower. “Or I’m going out there myself.” 
Laswell frowns tightly at him. 
“I just sent it into forensics—they’re trying to get a match. Go out if you want, but I won’t be able to stop the firestorm that comes out of it.”
She closes her laptop and moves past him, sending one last comment into the stone man as he towers ever taller.
“She’s strong, John. If you’re smart, you’ll keep yourself out of the crossfire until we have a definitive hit.” 
Her voice echoes from behind him as his hands slowly move to clench into knuckle-whitening fists.
“If Kinsman gets a tip we’re still onto him—you’ll never see Hart again.”
Day Three:
Your days start blending. One moment you hear the snapping of your bones, and then the next you’re wasting away in this cell—ears ringing and eyes buggy. So much blood. Blood on the walls—blood on the chair they strap you into in the other room; even stuck in the groves of your flesh. 
You don’t think you can stop closing your eyes and seeing a deer at the bottom of a bridge drop-off. It’s stuck in your head like a virus; those car lights in the back of your mind just waiting for you. 
There’s no sense as to what they do to you—all its purpose is, is to prove a point to Emmett. A sort of broken retribution for your interference and his fingers. 
Vain man, really. You’d told him as much when he was watching you get your own finger torn off my pliers; spit it at him as the blood from your bitten tongue stayed his suit. You remember the feeling of the knuckle popping first, and then the burning heat of the flesh being twisted to the side. Two firm yanks and the flesh had sprung like elastic, fissuring, the tendon snapping. 
You think you blacked out after that, but you can’t be sure. All you remember doing is screaming. 
You woke up with your left pinkie finger completely gone, resting outside in the hallway to mock you from past the bars. Your eyes could see the bone sticking out of it, and all that was left on you was a badly cauterized stump. 
When Emmett had come to gloat, you started slurring out laughter. 
“I’m going to rip you apart.” Your broken body had jerked back and forth like a marionette doll, only succeeding in spreading more red over the floors as green eyes widened and went dumbfounded. 
It sounded like a choking fish.
All he’d done was left, quickly passing the pinkie left limp on the ground.
Day five:
You can’t move your body as they dump you back into the chair—the drain below you flooded over with crimson and bits of hair; vomit and torn-off fingernails. You’re unable to open your eyelids fully. 
A hand grasps at your face, yanking it up into the overhead light until a bucket of water is dumped directly over your head. Your body jerks, coughing and darting forward until you’re shoved to the back of the chair and the rope is tied around the front of your shoulders, the second at your wrists.
Trying to suck down air, you shiver with the strength of an earthquake. Whoever said that they would never be afraid while being tortured was a liar; whoever thinks that they would be able to push through it—a fraud. Emmett was right, everyone had a breaking point.
But you admitted yours would only come after your death.
Your legs are seized, bent up as you hiss as well as you’re able, teeth snapping. 
They’re dumped back down into a bucket of ice-cold water as droplets drip from your nose—wet skin for the moment only holding streaks of gore. Even with your scattered mind, you know what this means. 
Heart tight and eyes widening, you try to push back in the chair; try to fight the rope and the way your body won’t respond. 
A battery is rolled up beside you on a metal cart. Jumper cables. 
There’s a low chuckle at the way your face goes fearful. 
John shoves open the door to Laswell’s temporary office, already talking before it hits the far wall. 
“Do we have her?” His hands move beside him, brushing the grip of his sidearm. He hadn’t been out of his full gear for more than five minutes in days. Waiting day and night for any word; sleeping in it, eating in it. The forensics team had been stumped, unable to get more than a model out of the picture. 
But this might finally give him something to act on. 
Kate is moving, grabbing documents and her laptop, speeding past him and out of the door. 
“Kate!” John shouts, following after. “Hey,” he calls, grabbing at her arm to stop her. 
The woman only halts to say, quickly, “We have a hit. Follow me.”
John’s heart is rampaging, pulse wild under his skin as his gloved hands twitch. Finally. He can only smoke so many cigars—only think of so many scenarios until he feels he needs to vomit. You’d been gone for too long. Every moment had been like trying to walk with a cloth over his head; lost. 
He’d grown stiff. Stiffer than normal. Everyone had seen it.
“Where is it, then?” John asks as Laswell pushes open the door to the meeting room, the other three already inside.
“A property outside of Copenhagen—bought through a proxy on a fund that was linked to blood money in South America; it all went directly back to Kinsman. It was found only ten minutes ago.” A pause. Electricity in the air. “But that’s not how we found it.”
“How,” Simon asks, moving closer. 
John gives the woman his full undivided attention, hands moving to rest at his collar in a soothing gesture. 
“Her tracker came back on.” Eyes go wide, all sharing rapid glances as Kate opens her laptop and opens a man, turning the device for them to see. “Same location.”
Johnny blinks, his eyes narrowing. “And what does that mean?”
“That can’t have just done that by itself,” Gaz mutters, brown eyes sliding over to John who’s stiller than a wolf. The Sergeant pauses. 
His eyes are dead set on that screen. His thighs were so tense it was nearly like the Captain was about to sprint out of the room. Kyle’s face goes blank at that, never quite seeing the extent that your disappearance had on the man. His superior had bags under his eyes; far more pale than usual. His apparel was ruffled, too. Even in the more serious of situations, the Sergeant had never seen John so…out of it. He was always the one with the even head, even if he had a short fuse with certain things. Nothing was ever done without thought, he should say. 
But this is something else. 
“Torture,” Simon gives his two cents and John’s cheek twitches at the word. “Electrocution. They jump-started it and didn’t even know.” 
“Bloody Jesus,” John breathes. Everyone had already had a hunch, but no one had wanted to name it. 
It’s a low rumble that makes the rest of them freeze, though. It was so dead in tone that it even made Kyle’s spine lock up; Johnny’s eyes went a smidgen upward. Simon, although his face was covered, felt his lips twitch.
John looks at nothing but that dot on the computer screen.
“Am I green, Laswell?”
Kate looks at John. It’s like setting a hellhound loose. 
“You’re green, Captain.”
You’re tossed into the cell and your body rolls along the floor, bouncing and flinching until your back slams into the wall. Air is forced from your lungs, coming out in a loud grunt before you land on your stomach in a heap. Staying there, your nerves are fried. 
Every moment you think the twitching of your fingers will stop—the dance of your muscles responding to the aftereffects of electrocution, it only starts back up again. Your eyes blink rapidly; your clothes have the scent of smoke to them. 
Gasping for breath, you feel like you’re drowning and being set on fire all at once. 
Yet the question in your head was a simple one, one you’d been asking for days.
Where was John?
Emmett enters the cell, clicking his tongue as the metal hinges squeak. 
“I’m not surprised it’s taking this long,” he explains. “But I am surprised you’re still alive, admittingly.” 
A boot comes out and places itself atop your shoulder, pressing down slowly until its full weight is on top of you. Your mouth opens in a shuddering sound of a dying animal, blood dripping from your ears and nose. 
“I know you’ve taken torture before—even taken a part of it,” Kinsman sighs. “But, shit Hart, you really do scare me when I know you’re strong enough to get through th—”
Your body jolts up, grappling Emmet’s leg and twisting it to the side. Regardless of pain—of agony—there’s such primal rage inside of you that what little adrenaline you can bring forth is all that more addictive. 
The man collapses in a heap, gasping, but you’re already on top of him, wrestling your hand to his neck, missing finger and all. Blood moves, staining his precious suit and dripping from your mouth into his hairline. You bare down your weight on him, teeth clenched and eyes wild—one orb holding nothing but red from burst veins and the other full of a vicious gleam of ferality. 
Hands snap up to your wrists, mouth opening in flapping panic. 
But Emmett has grown weak; he’s out of practice. All of those years out of the SAS, giving up on the training of the body to match the mind. The idiot wasn’t even carrying a gun when he walked into the cell of a charging stag, its antlers dripping gore, sharper than any knife. 
When the flaps of his eyes fall there’s no gloating speech—there’s no snort of a tall and proper victor. All you do is take the front of his face, grasp it, and start sending his skull back into the concrete floors. 
Crack.
…Crack.
….Crack.
Only when the sound of his head breaking open meets your ringing ears, do you force your wheezing lungs to take a large breath. 
Emmet Kinsman died as he lived. 
A fucking piece of shit.
“Fuck you,” you spit on his corpse, saliva bloody; his jaw is loose as you release the man’s face, eyes bulging. Falling to the side, you groan in pain, your body curling into itself until you resemble a sleeping fawn. You’re shaking more and more with every second, coughing with the force of an earthquake until your shredded vocal chores force you to stop. 
But the brain is a funny thing. 
In times of danger, survival is the only thing that takes priority. It was why, in a long shove of your hand to the floor, with your bones creaking and your vomit meeting the ground, you’re able to stand. It isn’t enough to help you heal the snapped bone of your right leg, however, and in a steadily failing stupor, you drag it behind you. In this state, nothing else matters to you besides a simple command: get out.
Your shoulder slaps the metal of the cell as you stumble out of it, careening into the far wall and letting out a loud shout. 
Eyes fluttering, you connect your temple to the cool concrete, trying to breathe. 
It hurts too much, your mind says. God, I can’t feel my limbs. 
A long trail of blood follows you down the hallway as you slide along the wall, using it as a brace. 
You want to see John, you whisper inside of your head. You want to be held by him—be taken into his chest; cared for away from all of this fighting. 
A trip back to Herefordshire with him, to go deep into the country together; rest in the green grass where no one can find you for just a few good hours. It didn’t have to be forever, you would say. Just a few hours. A few hours of sky and earth wrapped in a time loop of just your own. 
You want to kiss him there. In the open, out in the wild. You want to stay by his side, your mind thinks as you stumble over the three dead bodies in the left corridor, bullet wounds in their heads. You want to be by his side forever, no more gaps in years, not more longing. It’s so close you can nearly reach out and grasp it—
Your name is yelled on a heavy breath, and hands capture your shoulders as you fall straight into them with no more strength.
Blue eyes lock with yours as you’re hurriedly settled to the ground, body limp and eyes trying to stay open. 
Blue eyes on a grassy hill.
“Hart, fucking hell.” Hands move your body, pressing and sliding—finding every opening and spreading blood like water. “Fucking hell! Hey!”
You’re yelled at, and the ripping of pouches and the familiar sound of bandages being wrapped come to the back of your brain. A hand shakes your head, locked under your chin as you take slow, broken, breaths. 
“Please, fuck sake, please,” it’s a desperate growl, so familiar and yet a world away. Your body is moved and manipulated as every leaking wound is packed with so much gauze it hangs out of you like you’re a mummy. The burns along your flesh are crust and infected, open skin peeling back. 
But the pain is lesser now. Easier to manage. 
There’s such a ruckus that it’s hard to focus on John—the man on the hill. In the grass and the wind. Brown hair moves in the breeze as white clouds roll past. On the air, there’s the scent of rain, and in the far distance, you can see a group of ten deer grazing, ears twitching.
Maybe you’ll ask them if they blame their leader, or the two trucks on the end of a bridge.
“Keep your eyes on me!” You blink into John’s tiny blues, that mist rolling back. You stare for a moment as he frantically screams into his radio; night vision rig on his head and all-black gear covering him from you. His face is pale, his eyes glossy. “Look at me, hey,” he blinks as he notices you watching, surging forward. “Hey, keep 'em open, yeah? You keep them fucking open, Love.” 
Your chest is heavy. 
“John,” you push out a flicker coming to your lips as your vision slightly unblurs itself to the sight of a flood of blood on the man’s body—an unimaginable amount.
“I’m ‘ere,” his accent grows deeper with emotion, one hand holding your cheek and the other at your shoulder, keeping you still to stop any additional damage. “I’ve got you, you understand me? I’m not letting you go, so don’t you think that I will.” 
It’s a double-edged sword.
A smile peels back your chapped lips, red running from the corner of your mouth. You glance at his stained gear again. The abyss swirls at the corners of your eyes.
“Is that your blood, or mine, John Price?” 
You hear him scream for a medic, and then it all goes numb.
You dream of deer on a hill, but every time you search for John, he isn’t there. You go past rivers—
“She’s dropping!”
“Get me the defibrillator!”
—past copses. Your voice goes high and low, but all the while you look, there’s nothing but a nagging feeling in the back of your head that you shouldn’t be here.
“Again!”
It’s a strange nagging, truly. Like falling asleep in the middle of the day and waking up in the night without any remembrance of what had happened prior. A displacement of the mind. 
“We’ve got a pulse, Doctor, do we stop and—”
“No, I need to finish off the internal bleeding or else she won’t make it another day. Get me the cauterizer, now.”
You blink and grip your chest, a sudden pain sharp in your heart as the grass moves about your ankles. Coughing, you bend over, your eyes fluttering rapidly. In the deepest part of your eardrum, you hear a murmur of a voice you can’t place.
“The man came back, again. He’s been out there for days. He just…sits there, waiting until someone tells him something. He can’t come in, and I’m sorry about that. I’m sure hearing his voice would help more than mine, but you’re in too much of an unstable condition for that. If you get another infection, you won’t…hm, I shouldn’t talk about that. Everyone in school said only to talk positively to patients when they’re like this. I…I’m sure he’ll be able to come in soon. I think everyone calls him John if that rings a bell?”
“John?” Your eyes flutter open, sharp light above you making you snap them back closed. No one answers. 
It’s a long moment before you find the strength to breathe in the oxygen from the mask over your face, taking a long and deep inhale before a slight cough makes your abdomen tight. You flinch at the pull of stitches, all coming from so many places, that it’s unwise to move too much. 
Gradually, you open back up your eyes, pushing past the sting. Inside of your throat, the skin is so dried out you can feel it cracking at every articulation of your words. 
“Where's…John?” When you shift your head to the side, no one’s there. No one’s even in the room, either.
Blinking through the haze, your lips twitch on your face, skin tight. With a slap of your weak hand, you grasp the oxygen mask and pull it down to your neck, grunting in mild annoyance at the medicated numbness of your form. 
Your leg is in a cast—and your left side is tightly bound by wrappings to hide away the burns where skin grafts most likely live. With a glance, you see the missing pinky and the bandages that cover the strange remnants. 
The facial wound will scar, you know, but right now it’s patched over and healing. That’s all you can ask for. 
Sighing long, you blink slowly at the ceiling, licking your lips. You need water.
Outside, the murmurs are missed to you as your unmarred hand reaches for the nightstand table, where a half-drunk bottle of water sits next to a tray of food. Even if your stomach rumbles, water takes precedence. Your throat was like the Sahara desert.
“Forget something, John?”
“Bloody fork. The bastard gave me the slip. Dropped mine, needed to go back and grab another.”
“Oh, that’s alright—you could have asked one of us to get one for you. We’d hate for you to miss any time for visiting hours.”
“It’s fine; gets me moving, eh?”
“Just grab us if you need anything else!”
A low grunt is accented by the opening of the door; immediately you tense and pause, neck fighting itself to shift forward once more.
Wide blues lock with your own, and it’s like every pain fades away. 
John’s jaw is slack hidden under the layers of his beard bristles, brows going atop his head in an instant. The sound of a dropping metal utensil echoes through the room. 
You both stare at one another for a long time, and the murmur of nurses accumulates to some peaking through the crack; their expressions also going to shock. A few scurry off, probably to get a doctor. 
“What?” Your hoarse voice asks, unnerved by this. 
At the sound of your voice, John flinches forward on his boots. The nurses get shut out with beaming faces as the barrier closes with a small click of metal.
Walking to the side of your bed, John clears his throat, eyes looking you up and down in two glances. A million things are hidden in them. After an opening and closing of his mouth, which you watch closely while squinting, he speaks.
“How are we feeling, then?” You breathe slowly and in tiny puffs. John looks at the oxygen mask as if telling you to put it back on, but you refuse for a moment. 
“Like shit,” you utter, voice cracking.
With a huff, John pushes away your reaching hand and gets the water himself, unscrewing it. Bringing it to your lips, you take it down as he speaks.
“Easy, Love.” 
When you’d had your fill and the ache settled, you brought a hand to your head and rubbed at your injured cheek before John sighed and grabbed at it, intertwining his fingers with yours and lowering the limb back to your chest.
You stare at him, and he stares at you. 
“I don’t know what to ask,” you confess. 
“You don’t have to ask anything,” John mutters, and his face is tight with worry. “You’ve been in a coma for three weeks, all you need to do is ease back into it.”
Your eyes snap back.
“Tell me if it hurts,” He speaks slowly, moving on one word at a time so the realization doesn’t dwell in your brain. “I can get someone to come in, yeah?”
Your hand in his burns, and John pulls at the chair by the nightstand until he’s able to sit down in it fully with a tiny grunt.
“No,” you say, “no, it’s…I’m fine.”
Better now that you’re here, but your body is tense. Three weeks?
“Just need to take it easy,” the man states, thumb running up and down your knuckles. “You’ll be better soon.”
A dry look is sent his way, and he hides a soft quirk on his lips. “You’ll be better, Love.”
You hum, head moving back more heavily into the pillow. 
“When do I get to go back?”
“When you’re healed,” he grunts. “Not a fuckin’ moment sooner.”
“We get anything on the other locations of the—”
“Hart,” you’re interrupted. Blue eyes stare at you heavily, digging past every shield you’d put up and every fear. What happened was still heavy in your mind; it pained you to imagine it, even the way John had found you—even if it was all glimpses. “Slow down. That’s not an order coming from a soldier, it’s a caution from an old friend.” John says, squeezing your flesh. His other hand comes to your shoulder, sitting there heavily. 
“Breathe,” he orders, face gruff. “We always figure it out.” 
You close your eyes and sigh, frowning. 
A low chuckle moves along the air a second later. 
“Never sit down, do you?” A flicker dances over your lips like a butterfly. “Impossible, you are.”
“You’re one to talk,” you huff, eyes shifting back to him. 
He’s smiling at you, and you can’t help but mirror it right back at the sight. Your facial injury pulls and tightens, but you would welcome an ache like that for as long as it stayed. A scar born of the stretch of lips is one well-earned. Only John could ever make it a reality.
The man stares at your lips, his wide build eager to stay over you in this state. He can’t stop himself from caressing your skin; to feel you alive and breathing. Talking.
“Scared me,” John admits under his breath. 
You blink, your smile fading slowly until it was like it was never there. Your body builds with guilt; also something only he could bring. “I’m sorry, John.” 
A small thinning of his lips is what you get, accented by a hum. 
“Hart,” he grunts. “I…”
John’s eyes closed for a moment before opening back up—spearing you with their gaze. Your tired eyes crinkle in confusion.
“What is it?” Over the tingle of your flesh from where he touches you, it isn’t hard to forget the world is around you when he’s here like this. You’re nearly trapped by his eyes, yet you welcome it eagerly. His voice moves out, accent and natural gravel, all. 
“I love you.” 
Your nose lets a chuff exit. Was that all?
“I love you, too, John—”
“No, Hart,” he pushes slightly harder, moving closer and licking his lips as he glances away. “No,” John looks you dead in the eye as you lay here battered and broken within an inch of your life—a risk that you took willingly as if it had meant nothing. The both of you weren’t new to this; you both knew that on any day you or he would do it over and over again until it resulted in death. That was the way of this game; this trial. 
You had both always been content with that, but when had it changed? 
Why was the thought of losing you more fear-invoking than anything else he’d ever encountered?
You watch him as his lips utter the words, lips close to yours and your eyes locked. 
“I love you.” 
Your voice is caught in your throat, stuck in the throws of a quick gasp. Not blinking, the man waits for you—waits for an answer to the earth-shattering confession. But it all came far easier than you would ever admit to anybody besides him. It was already known, after all. 
All that remained was the pesky words.
“I love you, too.” You beam, words low with intimacy. “I think I always have.”
John chuckles, a large smile pushing at his reddening cheeks. “Good,” he nods, clearing his throat. “Good,” he says again. “Well, I—”
You softly connect your lips with his, and you feel him pause, breathing you down for a moment as hearts beat at the same tempo. He sighs, one hand coming up to capture your cheek, holding it there for you as you sag into it and live in this everlasting moment. 
It’s there you had a revelation.
It was never Hart to him. John had never been calling you that. 
He’d always just been saying Heart.
You breathe out a laugh, when you separate, beaming in a happiness you thought was long gone from you—stolen in the dark nights and sold through even darker deeds. Neither of you was worthy of this, of the love that breeds in broken things. Yet, here it is regardless. Here, among blood and the blue eyes of a man you’d known since knowing anything became important. You had always known it was John. And finally, finally, finally.
“I would marry you in an instant, John Price,” you breathe when you separate, not weak enough to stop the words from exiting from the deepest part of your soul.
His crinkled eyes watch, reverently gazing at every blemish and mark; everything he could learn new again. John’s eyes are as soft as you ever imagined them to be, and he gives them over freely to you.
He kisses you again and leaves the taste of his heavy, happy, chuckle tingling across your lips.
“Seems I’d better get on that, then.”
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A/N: This fic is strangely nostalgic for me even if I just wrote it - I remember the first ever fic I posted on here was a rescue fic, as well as a John Price fic; it's amazing to see how far I've come in regards to overall content/story building and how my understanding of the character has evolved. This might not be the best work I've posted on my blog, but I'm glad to say I'm proud of myself and how far I've come. It's so wonderful that I can have this feeling for such a big moment and still feel so drawn back to the past at the same time. Totally not tearing up at the thought rn.
Thank you all very much for your support.
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golden1u5t · 4 months
Note
Hi! Could you maybe write something where Spencer gets teased by the team for not getting laid ever and someone walks into Spencer’s house (for a valid reason because why else would they just walk in) and sees him pounding into reader? (If not that’s fine!!)
this post is 18+
"Come on man, just come out with us for once. You might get lucky and get laid." Derek put his hand on Spencer's shoulder, in which he shrugged off with a groan. "I'm telling you man, getting laid will fix all your problems, well, some of them."
"I don't have any problems." Spencer huffed and stormed off to go fix him another cup of coffee. Spencer didn't have any real problems, the only problem he had is that he missed you. He was counting down the hours and minutes before he could go home and see you, 2 hours and 15 minutes. 2 hours and 15 minutes before he could finally see you.
When Spencer got back to his desk he could hear JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss all snickering with each other, gossiping like teenagers in high school. He shot them a glare from over his coffee mug and sighed dramatically when JJ walked over an sat at the edge of his desk.
"You’re a virgin, aren't you?" She asked, a proud smile on her face as if she'd just discovered something, there was nothing to be proud about.
"What? No!" Spencer went red, starting with the tips of his ears ad spreading all the way down his neck. He was embarrassed by the question, speaking about his sex life in such a public place with his coworkers isn't something he liked doing. Spencer didn't share much of his personal life with the team, which is why they didn't know about you. While they liked to talk about their partners and their hook ups, Spencer preferred to stay quiet.
"Oh my god, you are!" Prentiss laughed, setting her pen down and fully turning her body towards Spencer. "You’ve never done it! You have no proof that you have."
Spencer was just turning redder by the second, embarrassment and anger making him hotter to the touch. "my sex life is none of your business!"
——
"Oh fuck-" You moaned into the cushions on the sofa. Spencer had you bent over the armrest of the sofa while he practically railed you into the couch. You tried to lift yourself up but each time his hips snapped forward, it sent you flying back down.
Spencer looked down at you with a proud expression on his face, he was positively ruining you. Your hands gripped the cushions, you moaned and screamed with each snap of his hips, he was ruining you and he loved seeing it.
He wrapped your hair around his hand and pulled you up so he could hear all the moans and screams he was pulling from you without them being muffled. Spencer leaned over your body so his chest was pressed against your back. "that feel good, baby?"
You reached back and held his head, your hips starting to move back to chase the high that was so close. "Yes- oh god, yes! M’gonna cum, spence. Gonna cum for you-"
Spencer groaned in your ear once he started to feel your walls tightening around his cock. He leaned up and pushed you back down into the sofa, his thrusts starting to come faster and harder. He was getting close himself, he was no longer trying harder to make you cum but he was also trying to make himself cum. You reached back to grab at any part of him you could reach as you finally got your release, Spencer not too long after you.
The door rattling should have been enough of a warning that someone was about to come into the apartment, but Spencer was too caught up in how good you felt around him that he didn't hear it until the door slammed open.
"Get out!" He yelled and quickly covered your body with the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. You sat up to see who had barged in but you only caught a glimpse of blonde hair. Spencer carefully pulled out of you and tucked himself back into his boxers and quickly pulled his shirt and pants back on, he made sure you were okay and covered before going to the door.
"What are you doing here?" He panted as he opened the door, he stepped outside into the hallway and closed the door behind him.
"Hotch- he wanted- hotch- you weren't answering your phone." JJ's eyes were wide and her heart was early beating out of her chest, she would probably never see Spencer the same after that.
"I was busy."
"I can see that." She cleared her throat and looked around awkwardly, she knew she probably should've left the situation alone and just left but her curiosity always got the best of her. "Who was that?"
Spencer rolled his eyes and opened the door to his apartment, he stepped back inside. "My proof. Let Hotch know I'll be there in an hour."
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lucidfairies · 4 months
Text
pretty girl [a.a]
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pairing: experienced!Abby x inexperienced!reader // Owens sister!reader x bbf!Abby
synopsis: Abby was irritatingly beautiful, nobody could deny that. But one night, everything changed between the two of you.
warnings: mdni 18+, religion mentioned, dom!abby, sub!reader, poc friendly, oral sex [r], fingerfucking [r], praise, slight size kink, corruption if you squint
word count: 2.1k
a/n: this is short and really not good but that's okay cuz I have more coming out soon! also no more virgin reader because it kinda made me wanna shoot myself
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Out of all of the friends your brother, Owen, had over the years, Abby Anderson was definitely your favorite. Aside from the fact that she was built like and had the face of an actual god on earth, she was so sweet to you all the time. Always acting like, well, a sister. The feeling had never been mutual, though. You didn’t want her to see you as her best friend’s cute younger sister, you wanted her to see you as her best friend’s undeniably sexy younger sister.
You never really knew when this crush became, but Abby had been in your life for so long that it didn’t matter. All you knew was that every time you looked at her, your stomach flipped and warmth spread between your legs. Because, god, those eyes. Always looked like they were picking you apart, one inch at a time.
She’s the exact reason you were tossing and turning in your bed, trying to get her out of your head. Your body reacted differently to her lately, every accidental touch was like a punch to the gut, and at night, every time she crossed your mind, your clit throbbed, a feeling you weren’t used to.
It’s not like you never found people attractive, it’s just… she was different. You needed her in a different way, in a very unholy way. One your brother would absolutely not be okay with. You tried to tell yourself that that’s why you wanted her - just to get to Owen. But that didn’t work.
You sat up in your bed, wiping the sleep out of your eyes and forcing your legs together to end the throbbing. You were so fucking wet. Looking in the mirror at the end of your bed, you huffed and got up, brushing your hair out and changing into a smaller, hotter pajama set. Before you could register any consequences to what you were about to do, you grabbed your keys and left the house.
You knew where Abby’s house was. You’d been there a handful of times over the course of the years, normally to pick up Owen when he was high. Suddenly, you were pulling up and parking at the curb and getting out of the car, slamming the door on the way out. Standing at the door, you banged harshly, hoping she miraculously wouldn’t be home.
“Okay, Jesus, give me a sec- y/n?” Your stomach dropped. The reality of what you were doing hit you like a truck, and you suddenly second guessed everything, ready to turn around and run away. “What’re you doing here this late, sweetheart?” You sighed, digging your palms into your eyes and rubbing them.
“I need your help, Abby.” You looked up at her, unwilling to elaborate until she let you in. And she did. She opened the door further, allowing you to step in, then shut it behind you. “There’s this… feeling in my stomach that won’t go away. It’s like heat. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”
Abby wanted to pretend like she didn’t know what you were talking about. Wanted to pretend that she was thinking about the fact that you were literally horny and came to her for help, not to mention the little pajamas that you had on, that hugged you tight and hardly covered anything. She could tell you that Owen would hate her if she helped you the way you needed, and it was just unethical, but.
But.
That would be like telling you she hasn’t been in love with you for seven years, telling you that she didn’t want you, telling you that she hasn’t thought about this every night practically since she met you. And she surely didn’t want you thinking any of that.
Abby sighed. “Is that all it is? Heat?” She took a step closer to you, making you catch your breath.
“No,” you paused, taking a step forward as well, so that your chests were almost pressed against each other. “It’s this wet feeling. And this throbbing.” Abby could’ve come in her boxers, right then and there, if she wasn’t trying to focus on you.
“Where?” Your face was burning. She placed her large hand on your stomach, head dropping to the crook of your neck. “Here?” she ran her thumb over the skin. You shook your head, placing your hands on her shoulders. Her hand cupped your cunt, heel of her palm pressing up ever so slightly, just to press into your clit. You pushed up on your toes, trying to get away from the overwhelming sensation, but it was unrelenting. “Here, baby?” You nodded quickly. “Words.”
You moaned at her harsh change of tone. “Yes Abby,” she left an open mouthed kiss on your neck, pulling her hand away from your pussy. “I don’t know what to do about it.” The way you looked at her made her want to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. Big doe eyes, unknowing but curious. You were so innocent, and it turned Abby on more than it should’ve. All she could think about was your pretty, big lips wrapped around her strap, taking it deep in your throat.
“Oh honey,” Abby sighed again. She didn’t want it to seem like she didn’t want this, want you, but she didn’t know how to go about it. “Have you never touched yourself?” Your brows scrunched.
“No. But that’s not what- oh!” Abby couldn’t take it, she picked you up and threw you over her shoulder, walking down the hallway and going into her bedroom. She shut the door and sat you down on her bed. “Abs.. I’ve wanted this for a while.”
“Wanted what, baby? I thought you didn’t know what you were doing.” She was on her knees in front of you, hands on your waist as she looked up at you.
“I..” you groaned, running your hands over your face in embarrassment. “I want to have sex with you. That’s why I came here, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Abby knew that. But she didn’t stop you from telling her. It sounded so nice coming out of your lips. “Owen can’t know, if we do.”
“I never said we were doing anything, darlin.” Remaining on her knees, she pressed against you and caught your lips in a kiss. Her hands were on your thighs, wrapping them around her waist, while she kissed you so hard you lost your breath. It was all tongue and teeth, nothing sweet about it. “What do you think about when you think about me, baby?”
Your brain was in a haze as you tried to formulate words. “You-your arms. And h-how your voice sounds, and how you look at me w-whenever we make eye contact.” She hooked her fingers under your shorts and pulled them down, then tossed them and shifted the two of you so that you were laying against her pillows and she was overtop of you.
When Abby caught a glimpse of the gold cross around your neck, she almost stopped. But the thought of corrupting you, turning you against the things you believe in just for her... extremely attractive.
"The heat between your legs is because you're horny, baby. Don't they teach you that at your pretty prep school?" You shook your head quickly, mind fuzzy as she kneaded your tits overtop your pajama shirt. She grabbed your hardened nipple and ran her thumb over it, making you shiver.
"Too much, Abby. Too much." You whined, pushing away from her hand.
"Is it really too much, sweet girl?" She twisted your nipple and pulled it, making you whimper and arch slightly off the bed. You couldn't tell whether you liked it or disliked it, but the way she was doing it felt extremely different from the way you briefly experimented with yourself here and there.
She knew what she was doing, and it made you want to moan and ride her fingers like you'd heard Owen talking about with her. You had listened to the vulgar stories she would tell your brother of her hookups, talking about what she did and how she did it.
You pushed up, sitting against the headboard as you pulled your pajama shirt up and over your head. Abby couldn't tear her eyes away from your tits. In seconds, her lips were latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, her hand flicking the other. Your back was arching into her mouth, moaning quietly.
"You're so pretty, my love." She mumbled into the skin of your sternum as she made a path of open-mouthed kisses towards your pajama shorts. Your skin was burning, and you were tingling at the thought of her teaching you what to do and how to do it.
She slipped your shorts off your legs and tossed them somewhere, gently running her thumb down your center. You shivered and whined, lacing one of your hands in her hair. "Abby," your head lolled back when she finally pulled your underwear down, kissing your clit gently. "Abs be gentle."
"Don't worry pretty girl, I'll go easy on you this time." Your stomach flipped at 'this time'. Would there be more times?
She licked a fat strip up your cunt and your hips bucked into her face, encouraging her. The sensation was brand new, and so much different than anything you'd ever done or felt. So much better.
Her tongue circled your clit, tracing shapes and letters, spelling her name against you. "Oh God, Abby," you moaned, the feeling of her hot breath and wet tongue creating the best mixture on your clit. The harsh middle ground where hot and cold met, where her thumb ran down your folds, was the greatest. You decided it was a good thing you waited, but you could definitely get used to this.
Moments later, Abby's middle finger was slowly pushing into your entrance, and she was groaning into your clit. She pulled away from your clit, watching her finger sink into you as she pressed kisses into your stomach and thighs. "So fucking tight, baby," her other hand rubbed your thigh, "need you to relax, angel."
A whine was ripped from your throat at the unfamiliar pressure. Your hips moved, trying to find some way to make it more comfortable. Abby was praising you, leaving quiet chants against your skin reminding you to breathe. You took a deep breath and released it, allowing your lower half to become less tense.
She began to thrust her finger slowly, curling it towards the sensitive bundle of nerves within you and grunting at the way you squirmed and cried out her name, begging her to do it again.
When you were ready, she added another finger, letting you adjust to both of her digits before reattaching her lips to your clit. Her right hand had found its way back to your tits, pulling at your nipple.
Your stomach became wound up, almost like a cramp in need of release. You knew it meant you were going to cum, but you never had before. "Abby- m'gonna, oh, Abby," a gush of warmth flooded between your legs, stronger and much better feeling than when you got wet.
Your legs were shaking and your hips were twitching, head thrown back and she worked you through it. Abby on the other hand, was wide-eyed and blushing as she watched you come around her fingers. She hooked up with girls regularly before now, but she had never been with someone like you.
She retracted her fingers and licked them clean. You were panting, forearm thrown over your eyes so that you wouldn't have to meet hers. "You did so well, my love." She had her hands pressed into your hips as she kissed your neck, waiting for you to come out and talk to her.
She was painting your skin in soft kisses when you finally brought your arm away from your face, cupping her face with both of your hands. "That was nice," you both grinned, which turned into laughter. It felt so good to laugh with her without worrying about Owen.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" She asked once the laughter had subsided, turning things to a slightly more serious note. "I wanted you to be comfortable."
"You didn't hurt me, Abby. I'm glad I waited for you." She was kissing you then, smiling into your mouth as your teeth clashed and nicked at each other's lips. "Can I stay here tonight?" Abby rolled over next to you and took your hand as hers before looking towards you.
"You can stay here forever." She whispered quietly, kissing the back of your hand.
2K notes · View notes
callmemickey · 7 months
Text
Pepsi Cola
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synopsis: Simon is on his break, but that doesn’t mean you stop working. After a full two weeks of mandatory overtime to complete a project, you were exhausted, absolutely beat. Simon’s been home for a few weeks and was starting to feel guilty. Watching you come home so tired you pass out on the couch? It was frustrating seeing you so drained. Well… it’s Friday night, and you’re sooo exhausted, love - why don’t you lie down and let Simon help you relax?
content: afab, porn w a plot, smut (GET YA PUSSY ATE!!!, fingering, overstim), not fluff?per se but he loves u.
word count: ~3.6k I think idk
notes: Title named after Cola by Lana Del Rey hayyyy iykyk
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Your keys felt so heavy in your hand as you attempted to fish them out of your deep, cluttered purse. They were tangled on something, and with an infuriated grunt, you yanked terribly hard, jerking them violently out of the thralls of your corded headphones. You really needed to switch to wireless. You fumbled them momentarily in your hand, trying to find your house key as the small porch light was your only guide, the sky dark like navy ink. “Fuck,” you mumbled, finally finding the key and opening the front door.
Soft, warm lights lit up the entryway, beckoning you to enter the fortress of comfort, an escape from the throes of responsibilities and existing. A groan left your lips as you closed the heavy door and locked it. The house smelled delicious like a home cooked meal, reminding you that Simon saved you dinner for when you came home. Your stomach growled, eager. “I’m home.” Your voice was loud and filled with fatigue as you called out to your fiancé, always making sure to signal that it was you and not someone breaking in.
You’ll never forget when you tried to surprise him one time. When you got into the living room, presumably as quiet as the dead, he had grabbed you and flipped you onto the couch. “You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” You said yes, and later told him you’ll need to break in more often as he was putting his shirt back on, his back covered with red hot stripes from your fresh manicure.
You walked down the hallway, kicking off your high heels, shuffling towards the living room, your pantyhose helping you glide across the hardwood floors as lifting your feet felt nigh impossible. Simon, ever attentive, met you in the hallway before you could even get into the living room. “Ah, love, you must be exhausted.” His tone was soft, calming, and understanding. The energy that poured from you was prickly and sharp at best, cannibalistic at worst, because while he wanted to generously touch your arm, he was worried for his.
Your purse dropped unceremoniously from your shoulder and onto the floor as you trudged over to the couch. “This week has been terrible,” you grumbled as you plopped chest first onto the cushions, “so much overtime to get a project done for the shareholders. As if it’s my fault that budgets were cut.” Your voice was muffled in the fabric.
The couch sunk by your feet as you felt Simon’s hand gingerly begin to rub your toes, arches, and heels. His thumbs gently but firmly pressing into the swollen, tired flesh of your foot elicited a moan of relief from you. “C’mon, Y/N, why don’t you go wash up? I have your dinner in the oven - I’ll get it started. Let’s go.” His voice was still delicate, supportive.
Simon ushered you up and you sighed, giving a small nod in agreement.
You went into the bathroom and stripped off your clothes. You knew what you were getting into when you were promoted to senior marketing manager, but recently you wished you had better foresight. You turned on the shower, hoping that the hotter the water, the more likely it will boil and burn off any trace of this week happening. As you washed your hair and body, you thanked whatever god allowed for Hell Week to be over. When you felt you were thoroughly cleansed from files, papers, and way too many sticky notes, you ended your shower, wanting to forget the sound of telephones ringing and keyboards clacking.
With a towel wrapped around your body and hair, you stepped out of the bathroom and sighed, the hot, fragrant steam spilling over into the cool bedroom, licking the air. You took the towel off of your head, gently squeezing water out of your hair as you walked to the dresser. You opened your underwear drawer with your hand, humming at your options.
“Feelin’ better?” Simon’s voice purred from the doorway. You looked over and saw him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed - and they briefly rippled with a flex, as if he were holding back. You did a double take, glancing from his feet up at his face. His eyes were half-lidded and a small half smirk sat on his lips. You knew that look. He was ravenous.
“Yeah. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” You asked before attempting to divert your attention back to the drawer.
“Like what?” He uncrossed his arms, strolling over to you, towering high above. You looked up at Simon’s face.
“Like that!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he buried his face against your neck, sniffing your smooth skin, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash so deep, letting it etch in his memory like carving stone.
He molded his body against yours, hands gripping deeply at your waist, fingers pressed into the plush towel. Your hands reached to wrap around his neck. His warm lips began to leave deep, hot trails against your skin, causing you to sigh in satisfaction. Simon kept your bodies tight together, lips trailing up to your ear. He nibbled at your earlobe, sucking gently at the flesh before biting at the shell, creating a surge of pleasure to pool in your core. You whimpered, hips bucking against his jeans. Your chest heaved in shallow sighs while he continued teasing you, breathing hot puffs against your ear, letting goose bumps sweep across your skin.
“Let me take care of you.” His voice was a hot whisper, and what he gave to you was not a suggestion, but a demand.
“Mmm, you don’t have to baby,” you purred softly, a tame deferment, placidly defying him.
You tested the waters and he called your bluff. He squeezed at your waist, a little firmer than you thought he would. His voice was a low growl, “Take off your towel and lie on the bed.”
Your body began to hum on the same frequency as his, his jeans becoming incredibly firm against your stomach. Simon pulled away, his half-lidded eyes darkening as they swirled with an insatiable drive. Your breath hitched in your chest, your stomach flipping as your cunt twitched in need.
You paused for too long. A hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass and gripped the fat flesh. You yelped more so at the sudden action than the sting. “And what do you say?” He asked, and your arousal caused you to feel your cheeks flush hot.
Your chest heaved. “Yes, sir.” Your voice was quiet, and he smiled.
“Thas my good girl, so god damn beautiful and smart. Go on then, let me see those gorgeous tits.” He moved his hands away from your ass and waist.
Your stomach flipped again, but you obliged, loosening the towel and letting it fall to the floor. Simon took a deep inhale, exhaling sharply as he eyed your body, and right now he looked like he desperately needed to sink his cock into you, but that wasn’t really part of his plan tonight.
He inhaled one more time, blinking himself back to reality as he gave your ass pleasant tap with just enough force to get it to jiggle. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, get your arse on that bed now.” He was at the point of fully commanding you around, but you were okay with that, and you would do anything he ever asked of you. Anything for your wonderful fiancé.
“Yes, sir.” You said coyly, causing his lips to twitch back into a smirk. You felt yourself melt a little while you walked over to the bed, plopping down on the edge.
Simon walked over to you, so unbelievably tall while you were sitting down. Heat pooled down to your stomach when you glanced down at his jeans. You looked back up at him, licking your bottom lip absentmindedly. He smiled, sighing. “Not tonight, love.” He scolded lovingly.
“Later?” You asked.
He paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Later,” he agreed, letting you win - which caused you to smile mischievously.
Simon leaned down to you, grabbing you by your waist and tossing you up higher onto the bed. You yelped with a smile, giggling as you fell down on your back, bouncing softly on the down blanket. Simon’s lips came down against yours, giving you little to no time to adjust. His hands, gentle on the naked flesh of your waist, whispered ghostly touches up your sides before eventually cupping your breasts. Your moans were lost in his mouth as his fingers squeezed and rubbed at your nipples, your hands finding themselves lost in his hair. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, your cunt swollen, begging and weeping for his abuse.
He moved his lips down to your neck, kissing, sucking, and gently biting you. Simon moved a hand from your breast and used it as leverage next to your head while the other hand slid down your front, tickling your sensitive skin, roaming over your stomach and mound. His fingers dipped down between your folds, pressing into your wet heat. You let out a pathetic whimper at the contact alone, raising it into a moan as his fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit.
“Ah, yeah? You like that, Y/N?” He purred against your neck before pulling away to see your reaction. You bit your lower lip and nodded feverishly at him, eyebrows furrowed. Simon smiled, your wet hair sticking to your face, providing a cool relief to the heat that swarmed your body like a furnace.
“Ye-yeah, yes- yes, sir,” you managed to gasp out. His smile turned into a smirk as he felt your cunt twitching. As if answering your unspoken prayers, his two digits dipped and pushed into your needy hole. A gasp was ripped from you, jaw dropping slightly at the sudden filling of your cunt.
“God, already so wet - my girl has the best fucking pussy.” He gave a small thrust, causing you to moan gently and buck your hips. “Oh, the things I’d do just to have my cock buried in you,” he growled before gently pumping his fingers.
Your tits bounced as his digits softly fucked into you, fingers curling up and rocking your hips, pressing into that spot that had your eyes rolling back. Your grip left his hair and soon grasped desperately onto his back, causing him to groan while your nails dug at him. “Ha, ah, harder,” you gasped as your hips bucked against his hand.
Simon smiled. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my fingers, don’tcha baby?” He asked, your cunt twitching embarrassingly at his words.
“Yes- yes, sir, please!” You whined.
“Hold on, love,” he sighed before rocking his fingers into you at an ungodly pace.
Your voice raised pitch before becoming lost in your throat, your head thrown back and eyes gone. All that filled the room was the sounds of your juices squelching against his fast moving digits. The silence was soon cut, moans finally finding their way out of you. Your fingernails dragged frantically at his back, as if you were fighting to stay grounded. Your cunt constricted harshly around his fingers, trapping him.
Your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucked against his fingers and your thighs squeezed at his hips. Like a cool tidal wave poured over you, a chill ran down your back as your body surged with pleasure, leaving you crying out Simon’s name. He chuckled softly with a gentle voice, “Ahhh, thas my good girl, huh?” His voice was like a warm blanket of clouds, helping you down from your dizzying high. He pulled his fingers out and gave a small slap to your pussy, causing you to whine and your hips to stutter as he teased the tender flesh.
“Jesus, Simon,” you whimpered, your head still swimming in the aftershocks of pleasure.
He chuckled at your reaction while planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping at your breasts to lope a nipple into his mouth. You let out a throaty groan as his teeth pulled at the sensitive, hardened bud. Your nails that raked at his back moved back up to his hair, the pads of your fingers pressing firmly into his scalp as his locks slid and tightened betweens your digits. The sensation had him sighing against your mounds.
He released your breast from his mouth, his teeth squeezing at your nipple before fully letting go, causing you to let out a small yelp. Simon began to kiss down your chest and the expanse of your stomach. He placed deep kisses at your hips before heading towards the simmering heat of your cunt - sticky, wet, and begging. He looped his arm under your thigh, hand holding your hip to keep you in place.
Simon’s lips pressed against your swollen clit, causing you to gasp harshly. His tongue, flat and hot, slid up your folds, extracting a long moan from you, and in response he moaned. “I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he hummed against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice driving straight to your core.
You groaned, your hips grinding against him in response which caused him to chuckle against you. “O-oh God, Simon!” You cried at the overwhelming stimulation, your legs shaking at his persistence as he buried his mouth into your cunt.
Simon lapped at you hungrily like a man dehydrated, drinking at your sloppy pussy as if he’d never be able to go back down on you again. It was gluttony and pure greed. He had commented before about how he hopes his manner of passing is drowning while you straddle his face. You laughed and said maybe one day! He didn’t think your joking demeanor was appropriate, and how he meant every word with serious intent. Whenever he’s being deployed on a mission, he always assures you he won’t die, because you’re the only one that could take him out. Of course, you didn’t truly understand the depth of his conviction.
Simon’s teeth gently nibbled and helped to create a suction around your clit, his dampened fingers once again finding your hole and pushing in. You let out a loud moan, your hips driving against his face, his nose pressing onto your mound as he did everything he could to keep you two attached, connected. He moved his head to match with your movements, keeping his mouth glued flat to your pussy, and any attempt to pull yourself away from him would prove futile.
Your fiancé has a wonderfully keen gift of being a giver. He was always so incredibly selfless with you, which could get almost aggravating as he was certain on making sure that your needs were met first. This attitude carried over to the bedroom. He could give you fifty orgasms and beg to give you fifty more while never even taking his shirt off.
What he loves, besides bringing you pleasure you’ve never experienced before, is seeing you lost in passion. Watching your face twist as he stretches you with an additional finger, your eyes rolling back as he hits that sweet spot, your hips grinding as you chase after your orgasm, your back arching and legs shaking as the euphoria and bliss crash over and through you. Simon got off by simply being the source of your arousal, and he savored unraveling you thread by thread before you’re bare before him.
That’s what he loved.
Your pleasure brimmed to the top, the lip, before finally pouring over. Your hands gripped tight at his scalp, legs tightened around his head as your back arched, head thrown back. Your cunt tightened deliciously around his pumping digits, his tongue still swirling around your clit as he rode out your orgasm. “F-Fuck, Simon!” You cried, moaning loudly, still holding onto him as the high came to slow, but he didn’t stop.
He continued to pump and lap at your clit, causing you to squeal in overstimulation, legs beginning to shake as a concoction of pleasure and pain pulsed through your core with every pass of his tongue. “I can’t- ah! Simon, please!” You sobbed, begging him to stop. A harsh groan left you, your body trying to shake him away as he kept his mouth to you. It wasn’t fair - it was too much. You were starting to burnout, your body sore and barely able to keep up. Regardless of your exhaustion, another orgasm was in the horizon, slowly reaching it’s peak before ultimately falling into a frenzied bliss.
“You gonna cum again, baby?” Simon mumbled against your sex, the vibrations causing you to groan roughly as your hands moved from his head to the sheets, grasping them with a white-knuckled grip, back arched impossibly high as you tried to wriggle away. You nodded frantically at his question, your body squirming and tossing with no ability to stop or control it as he pushed you to your limits.
You never doubt that Simon can bring you another orgasm in quick succession - he’s proven that true multiple times, almost every time, especially now. Your poor clit, though, was bullied and battered, the bundle of nerves crying out in both pain and pleasure. But it was a slave to Simon. Even during the loneliest of nights, months in bed by yourself, you could never make yourself feel how he makes you feel. It was maddening, and frankly unfair, but it made the intimate times with him all the more exhilarating and mind numbing. What makes it better is that no one but Simon has been able to bring you into such a state of ecstasy.
Simon’s free hand, still wrapped around your thigh and holding onto your hip, held you so tightly in place he pinched at your skin. You were going to bruise there, you knew, but you didn’t really care. Even though it was like edged like a razor, your release was fast approaching with no stops. You panted heavily, loudly, your body involuntarily writhing as the pleasure tipped you over the scale. His tongue dragged hot and firm against your clit, his fingers still thrusting and rubbing the spongy spot inside your cunt as the muscle enclosed and clamped around him, unforgiving.
“Oh, God!” You cried loudly, tears pricking at your eyes as you used a hand to cover your face.
Your orgasm came fast and sharp. His onslaught was staggering and unrelenting, and it brought an end that was piercing, sudden. A scream was ripped from you as the pleasure came like a heavy punch, borderline painful. It was a surge of electricity that ripped through your core, shocking your nerves and forcing your body to briefly tense… but it all dissipated almost immediately. Your mind and body crashed.
Your back collapsed onto the bed and Simon’s fingers slid out of your clenching cunt, his mouth pulling away from your swollen, angry clit. A moan of relief fell out of your mouth as Simon crawled atop you, a hand pushing the hair out of your face as he planted his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply and fully. Your juices had coated his lips in abundance, and you tasted yourself as his tongue slipped into your mouth. His tongue was slick, and he made sure that you entire mouth was coated with yourself.
He pulled back, allowing you the space to sit up, delirious, face hot and wet from sweat. Simon stifled a laughter behind a tightly pursed mouth. “What.” Your tone strained with trying to demand an answer, but it was hoarse from your yelling and crying.
He shook his head, his eyes fluttering. “Your hair, love.”
Your hands shakily went to your hair, feeling it messy and sticking up at odd angles. “Ah.” You nodded, trying to run your fingers through to flatten it out.
Simon preemptively got up to the bathroom and came out with a brush, taking a seat behind you as he silently began brushing out your hair, starting at the ends. You two took the moment quietly, slowly, and embraced just being in each other’s presence. The session was hot and heavy, and having Simon nearby, gently brushing out your vicious knots, was soothing on your frazzled nerves, like aloe on a sunburn. “You feelin’ good, babe?” He asked in a quiet tone.
You hummed. “Yeah, but that last one was really intense.” You commented, eyebrows briefly furrowed as the third orgasm continued to make your body shudder. His hands suddenly wrapped deep in your hair at the base of your scalp, and with a gentle tug, he pulled your head back to look at him, causing you to gasp quickly.
“Were you able to handle it?” His brown eyes bore into you, and you gave a restrained nod, almost forgetting that his hand was keeping your head steady.
Your voice was meek and small, “Yes, sir.”
Simon smiled, kissing your forehead. “That’s my girl,” he purred, gingerly releasing your head and putting the brush on the nightstand. He gave you a kiss on the top of your head as he stood up, commenting about checking on dinner.
You noticed his cock was rock solid in his jeans, pressing and straining against the denim so tight it must’ve hurt. God, you wanted to return the favor more than you could possibly put into words. He noticed your gaze and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards so your eyes met his.
“Later, like we agreed.” His voice was low, firm, and painfully arousing. Literally. Your clit throbbed with both the need to be doted on and to also be left alone for a long, long time. “Get dressed. I’ll be in the kitchen.” With that, Simon left you to your own devices in the bedroom.
You got up out of bed, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of your beaten cunt being squeezed between your legs. You hobbled to the dresser, resuming your original task. Underwear. Grabbing a random pair, along with pajama shorts and a shirt, you found yourself comfortable and ready for the night, making sure to slide on your robe so you didn’t get chilly.
The evening progressed. You sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating your dinner while Simon sat on the couch behind you, running his fingers through your hair, lazily braiding your locks as a movie played on the television. Your lovely fiancé also made sure you were planted on the softest, fluffiest pillow he could find. When you were finished, he made you sit on the couch while he cleaned up, coming back just to delicately massage your feet. It was tender, romantic, thoughtful. Simon wasn’t a very… physically affectionate partner, so these moments when he just wanted to be with you, to touch you, well, you really tried to get as much as you could.
When he was finished, his hands slid up your smooth calves towards your thighs, beckoning you to cuddle closer - to which you did. You hopped across the couch where the back of your legs were draped over his thighs, nestling your body in close to his, letting him wrap his large arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Oh, you couldn’t even put into words how peaceful being wrapped up in his arms made you feel. Warm, secure, safe. His other hand sat on your thigh, his veins and tendons prominent, titillating, twisting around his forearms, making the black ink of his tattoo dance. What was even hotter was seeing these veins and tendons flex and and tighten as his hands gripped the sheets or headboard as he fucked you to nirvana, until nothing but prayers and begging for God spilled and tumbled from your mouth in an indistinguishable slur.
“Why so nice tonight?” You asked him in a quiet voice, looking up at him while resting your head against his chest.
Without hesitation, he looked down at you. “Do I need a reason?” Your stomach fluttered, heat spreading to your face. You shook your head. “You’ve been stressed and working late this week. Least I could do,” he explained regardless and shrugged, rubbing the fresh stubble on his jaw.
Simon’s been back for a month, and you’ve been so busy you feel like you’ve barely seen him. He gets up extremely early to see you before work, make you breakfast and coffee, and prepare your lunch. All day he makes sure the house is clean and chores are done, opting to even overhaul the landscaping in the front yard - something you’ve been too busy to do. At night, he always waits for you to come home, dinner ready if you haven’t eaten. He makes sure you’re showered and taken care of before starting the whole routine again in the morning. You didn’t necessarily feel less than or that you’re lacking in the relationship, but it was infuriating not being able to take care of your fiancé while he has worked tirelessly to keep the world from blowing up.
But that wasn’t wholly true, was it? Sure, you felt that way, having openly admitted your insecurities to him, but Simon has always been genuine and adamant in letting you know that you’re doing so much more when you don’t have to. While he loves that you’re on your corporate grind, he’s made it clear that if you told him you never wanted to lift your hand again, you wouldn’t. Of course, with weeks, and honestly, months like these, you get closer and closer to considering to take him up on his offer. Then you could be that sweet, doting housewife, eager for her husband to come home from war.
“So,” you started, grabbing his attention and warm gaze, “is it later yet?”
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rjunswrld · 10 months
Text
but you can learn from me.
haechan x thick POC! reader
sex tape, squirting fixation, oral fixation, unprotected sex, oral (giving & receiving), college au implied, thick POC reader, cum eating, fingering, praising, fuck boy hyuck implied (bitches on bitches), hyuck and reader are a lil desperate
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you gulped at the pornographic-like scene your best friend balls deep into a random girl who let out broken squeals and moans to every harsh thrust he did on her, the manhandling grunts and harsh smacks echoed through the speakers as he let out breathy groans and incoherent praises of 'good girl' or 'such a tight fucking pussy'.
you both ended up in this predicament due to you. doubting his infamous sex skills and if the girls on campus were exaggerating about how good the sex was with hyuck. to say he wasn't offended by it would be a lie, taking it straight to his ego he was too prideful about his sexual life that he had to- no he was willing to prove you wrong and show you what you were missing out on.
"if you wanna fuck just say that, not gonna lie i had a few fantasies about you.."
"thanks but no thanks."
"then how will i prove to you that i don't disappoint in bed? are you gonna watch me or something, because i'm into t-"
you rolled your eyes in disgust flipping through one of the many magazines piled up on your nightstand, nonchalantly and dramatically tossing the paper at every flip and scanning through pages to zone out on whatever hyuck was going on about, until you landed on a certain page; 100 Reasons Why You Should Make A Sex Tape your mind lit up like a lightbulb. "record it."
you shrugged looking at the boy who laid across your bed, playing with the ends of your blanket and scrolling through his phone. his eyes met yours with a full smile making him giggle at your request, it wouldn't be the first time he's ever done it but
anything to prove to you why he's the school's labeled 'sex god', this was a big deal to him now. "wouldn't it just be hotter if you joined?" he teased whilst wiggling his brows puckering his lips towards you making you annoyed and questioning why the two of you were even friends-the number of times you rolled your eyes, you swore they could fall out any moment now.
"donghyuck shu-"
"okay okay, i'll do it.. but we watch it together, i wanna see your face when i prove you wrong."
"okay deal."
"maybe you can give me a treat after.. since you hurt my feelings.." he pouted making you throw a pillow at his face with force, knocking the male off your bed and earning laughter from your end at the scene you caused.
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it was towards the end of the video, the view of the girl's ass coming in view of the camera as his slender fingers ran down her cheek, giving it another hard slap decorating her skin in a deep red watching it jiggle with her squealing. your focus was given to the video playing intensely, jolting slightly as his hand would impact on her ass ringing through the speakers of his laptop— she was whining at the sensitivity as she arched her back to push her ass closer to hyuck, earning a chuckle before smacking it one last time with a louder moan escaping her.
you felt your palms become sweaty and your heart race as he shifted to place the camera down to get a view of the scene facing towards the both of them, completely distressed. you were already on edge since the beginning and since it's already been a week since you and hyuck had this conversation you genuinely forgot about the whole deal, now spending your thursday night watching your friend fuck some girl's brain out seeing how big his “praised dick” was.. you were going mad trying to look unfazed by everything you've seen tonight, never in a million years did you think you'd see your friend's sex tape by your simple request that you half joked about- you swore you were sweating buckets.
he smirked at the camera making his way back to the girl who was still positioned on the bed, flipping her over on her back and dragging her down lower to have her pussy become face to-face with him— biting his lip as he stared at her glistening cunt, eager enough to part his mouth to stick his tongue out.
"she was so fucking wet.."
hyuck taunted into your ear as you stared at the scene of him eating the girl out, her back arching and her chest heaving as her hands reached to squeeze her boobs for support. he looked over to you as he was taking in your body language, smirking as he watch your hands slowly balling up against your exposed thighs that trembled slightly. he couldn't help his perverted thinking, could you be wet? turned on? wondering what it would feel like to have him do this to you?
"f-fuck!" the lewd moaning and sounds of sucking snapped hyuck from his thoughts regaining his composure and clearing his throat he proceed with watching alongside you, mentally praising himself at how good he was doing and mostly how good he looked while doing it a cocky gemini.
"gonna cum for me?"
your eyes boring into the laptop feeling as if you were watching a show, catching yourself from interacting with the screen.. but something about his words made your stomach twist and cheeks to flush as if he was speaking directly to you; after seeing the male in a new light you felt dizzy almost immediately.
"gonna cum so hard around my fingers.."
he groaned as his fingers slipped in and out of her at ease watching how his arm moved back and forth picking up speed and making her tremble with profanities slipping out of her. "s-shit haechan!"
"i'm gonna go get some water.."
"wait you're gonna miss the best part!"
he dragged you back down to your seat as his pumping increased with her body shaking uncontrollably, thrashing around he held her down with his free arm to keep her from pushing away from him the anticipation growing inside of you as hyuck kept his arm linked with yours with his childlike smile plastered on his face. "watch this."
he whispered as her body went still and muscles flexed, her moans falling silent with the sounds of hyuck fingering her intensely, the lewd noises making you clench your thighs together before the loud sound of liquid squirting out of the girl could be heard. screams of pleasure and pleads for hyuck not to stop in her shaky state with the male on the ther hand assisting her high; liquid gushing out of her. all over him.
"y-you make them all do that?" you muttered somewhat fascinated by the fact that
he could have them squirt faucets, drenching the bed below them, drenching his upper body you just knew it felt amazing. "yeah, you'd be surprised how many of them say they've never squirted or even think they could ever squirt.." he laughed as the video finally came to an end, you stared at the laptop and the video's thumbnail as hyuck let out a sigh reaching to close the laptop and push it to the side.
"so? what do you think? i own up to my label huh?"
he smirked as you both looked at each other, deciding to tease the male even further you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of it yet. "eh, i've seen better.." you shrugged standing up to walk away from your bed before getting dragged down to hyucks level in a blink of an eye- he wasn't pleased and by the looks of it, he looked pissed by your choice of words.. irritated even. showing off some of his best work in a 10-minute video just to get an "i've seen better" in response, he was fuming.
"yeah? you've seen better?" he scoffed making your cheeks flustered realizing how he had you straddling his lap, your bodies dangerously close together, skirt riding up your thighs exposing more and more of your skin. "your bluffing.. no one's better than me" he taunted taking in your tense features, how rosy your cheeks became and how intimated you looked at the male your throat wanting to slip a whimper out in defeat so badly fuck you lee donghyuck. "why so shy baby?"
he snickered as you gulped, seeing with your own eyes what the man was capable of your mind flooded with ideas and you can tell he was thinking the same the male who treated you like his prey, ready to devour.
"listen ____.. i don't know how you feel but to keep it real with you... i really, really wanna fuck you right now."
he was blunt with his words almost too casual with how he came across. his words sliding off of his tongue at ease as he brushed your stray hairs away from your face, the other hand placed on your hip to keep you in place. you'd be lying if you told him you weren't down to fuck, the video images playing through your head over and over again you could feel yourself growing wet by the lewd noises staining your hearing like permanent ink.
"if you don't want to it's okay i'm so-"
"can you do what you did to that girl.. to me?"
you whispered making him smile in satisfaction, moving his hand lower to squeeze your ass with you slipping a soft moan at the tight engulfing on your ass. "of course i can." he said in a 'duh' like tone making you punch his arm playfully as the two of you shared a giggle.
you feeling bold enough to cup his cheeks and connect your lips- though it wasn't the first time you two kissed, it had been a while. you asked him a few years ago how to properly make out with someone since he was the more experienced out of anyone you knew in your sophomore year, he taught you how to french kiss using a lot of tongue hoping you'd enjoy it so much you'd keep asking for more- you did but around that time you ended up landing your first relationship and shared your new knowledge with another male constantly before you broke up and that made hyuck furious, even though he had taught you, you went and gave another man besides him the honors of kissing you every day.
you two grew up and hyuck still held onto that grudge, wondering if you still do what he had taught you.. and by the looks of it, you do. he always imagined what it would be like kissing you now that the two of you are more mature with more experience; kissing him felt normal and comfortable. it had to be one of your favorite things about him that he was a terrific kisser still using tongue, swirling them around making the scene so dirty- you missed this and you always remembered how he was on your top 3 for favorite kissers list, maybe that 'favorite" will change tonight. he guided your body onto him, grinding down crotch to crotch, slipping grunts and groans at the friction. slipping his tongue in your wet cavern you let out choked moans gripping the back of his hair.
he snaked his hand under your skirt feeling nothing but your flimsy underwear, he pushed your skirt up to lay above your hips as he fondled your ass cheeks, squeezing and slapping them forcefully.
"hyuck..” only you get to call him by this, only you made it seem so fucking hot.
"get on your knees baby.." he mumbled on your lips making you obey instantly sliding off his body with a wet patch coating his
light-washed jeans, he snickered at the sight making your cheeks flush even darker in embarrassment. "don't be embarrassed baby, so fucking wet.. all for me.." he bit his lip, caressing your cheek making you feel small below him. "plus they're coming off anyways." he reached for your hands bringing them up to his belt to undo it for him, leaving you to get the hint he watched as your shaky hands undid the buckle revealing his jean button that you unbuttoned quickly along with unzipping his zipper. he assisted in pulling his pants and boxers down revealing his rock hard dick, tip semi wet as he twitched to produce more precum.
"don't you think you should make me feel better after hurting my feelings, princess?" you nodded vigorously as he chuckled at your eagerness. "good girl, suck my dick baby."
not needing to be told twice your hand reached to grab the base of his cock, sliding your tongue around the tip to taste the saltiness of him earning a groan from the korean. you licked up the base to the tip before collecting your saliva in your mouth to spit on it for a better glide. whilst pumping you placed him back in your mouth, licking between his slit and around his sensitive tip before trying your hardest to deep-throat him. fondling his balls, his breathy outtakes and groaning filling in the atmosphere reaching to place his hand over your head gently as his fingers laced through your locks following your motions.
throat clenching around his stiffened cock as you gagged and choked around him with saliva dripping down to your chin your eyes clouding with tears, loving the taste of him on your tongue, and the stretch in your throat going straight to your pooling core. clenching around nothing and soaking your panties, pussy aching to be touched or for any sort of friction. pumping what you couldn't fit in your mouth your other hand reaching down to circle your clit to reduce the aching, moaning around his shaft, and feeling his thighs flex seconds at a time.
"f-fuck baby just like that.." he whimpered using force to guide your head up and down his cock, gagging and moaning pathetically.
"ah fuck let go.."
you did as told as he pumped his dick vigorously directly in your face, keeping your face in place with his free hand panting and whimpering as he felt himself growing closer and closer to his well-awaited orgasm.
"fuck gonna cum.." he whined taking the hint you opened your mouth letting your tongue fall out to (try) and catch as much as you can of what was about to come out of the boy. "fuck so hot.. so h-hot.." he hissed as the white ropes of cum splattered on your face, flinching backward slightly as the warm semen dripped down your nose and chin to your neck and shirt. panting like he ran a mile pumping himself steadily and milking himself dry, you swallowed whatever shot in your mouth licking your lips and corners of your lips making him groan.
"a slut for cum huh?"
"just yours.."
your voice was hoarse due to the previous activities, coated in saliva, cum and tears- makeup ruined along with your shirt he couldn't help but bite his lip at your fucked out persona. "you're so hot.." he let out a dry chuckle resulting in you blushing. "take this off yeah?" he referred to your drenched shirt making you look down at it before looking up at him with a smirk. "take it off for me." he scoffed at your response, patting his thighs to signal you to sit on them which of course you did. crawling up his legs like a cat desperate for attention, eyes locked together with your face painted with cum as if he owned you; in this case, it felt like he did.
"lift your arms baby.." gripping on the ends of your baby tee, he lifted it above your head letting your exposed breast hang out; he knew how much you were against bras due to how much the wires bugged you leaving you to feel uncomfortable so it wasn't a shock... though he has seen your boobs plenty of times, he still can't get enough of them.
"wanna fuck you so bad.." he whined lifting your skirt and repeating the same actions from before— skirt resting around your waist hand squeezing your ass. his free hand groping your tit as he began to suck on your neck, a mission to mark you up for the world to see that he had finally got you maybe even wants to keep you.
"hyuck.." and again
you whined like a child grinding down on his thigh.
"please.. i need you.." you whimpered as you circled your crotch around his thigh, didn't do as much justice as you wished but you were hoping he wouldn't leave you hanging for too long; thank god he didn't. "ride me, and after this i'll take such good care of you.." he mumbled into your neck. "treat you like a princess.. my princess.." he groaned as he reached to pull your underwear to the side, welcomed by your wetness he couldn't wait to make a mess out of you. "so wet.. i made you this wet? and you kept saying you didn't wanna fuck me.." and yet he still had time to make jokes, typical hyuck. "s-shut up."
you gasped feeling his fingers circle your swollen bud, jolting at the feeling that shot through your body like a firework-it felt amazing. the smirk on his face as he watched you gasp and bite your lip aggressively circling your clit slowly.
"c'mon baby, ride me." he taunted with a smile making you whine, trying your hardest to reach for his now harden dick to line him up with your drenched hole. he teased you further as he sped up his motions making you tense up and fall forward onto the male who had the audacity to chuckle at your reaction. "so mean.."
you whined into his chest as your chest heaved, regaining all the strength you had left in you to sit down on his dick. slowly inserting him into you, the unfamiliar stretch making your grip tighten against his shirt with your face making a slightly uncomfortable expression going noticed by the male. "i'm sorry i should've— fuck, i should've prepped you.." you shook your head in all honesty loving the stretch of him; feeling him glide down your walls with the help of your essence making it easier for the both of you.
"touch me hyuck.." you whimpered breathlessly, fuck you were gonna be the death of him. sliding down lower as you found yourself taking him all in. he didn't hesitate to circle your clit again as you moaned towards the ceiling, eyes shut tightly as you began to move at a comfortable pace before gaining enough strength to speed up the motion.
the lewd squelching noises on top of the throaty yet high-pitched moans coming from hyuck and the incoherent blabbering and hisses coming from you; at this moment it felt like angels were singing above you, clouds parting ways to shine a light down on the two of you, serenading soft beautiful tunes- sex with hyuck felt like heaven. "don't stop.."
you cried placing your arms on the back of you to rest on his knees for more support. he enjoyed this new feeling of being inside you, almost something he could've never imagined- his fantasies proving him dead wrong, they couldn't have topped how good you've been making him feel.. he swore he could get used to this. "g-gonna c-cum!"
"cum on my cock baby, make a mess on me..
wanna feel you cum on me.." he panted with his climax being close behind, falling into pure bliss of the delicious feeling you both couldn't pull it together.
everything was more than what you could ever imagine it being. shaking and thighs trembling your mind clearing of any thoughts as the sounds of angelic music filled your soul, growing louder and louder as you released all over his cock. a loud moan escaping you as you panted heavily, his cum painting your inner walls making you hum in satisfaction as you bounced mid-pace to ride out your highs before coming to a genuine halt.
"full.." you whispered as he sheepishly smiled at you. "gonna take good care of you like i promised princess.. gonna take it all like the good girl you are?”
he whispered back eyeing your lips before looking up into your mascara-stained eyes, looking so pretty after you cry. "y-yes hyuckie." you nodded as he placed a chaste kiss on your lips before flipping the two of you over, pulling out of you slowly which made you whine at the emptiness. "m'make you feel so good princess i promise.." "i know hyuckie.." you giggled as he gently began undressing your now bare bottom, your glistening cunt painted with his cum drove him through the roof- taking a mental picture of your perfect pussy with his essence for those late nights.
"fuck.. such a cute little cunt.."
kissing and nibbling on your inner sensitive thighs making them tremble slightly as he reached lower and lower to now only to be faced with your core. he licked his lips as he locked eyes with you before licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. jolting in sensitivity he decided to take your engorged clit head-on. thrashing around slightly as the images from the video earlier started to cloud your mind, subconsciously mimicking the girl by grabbing onto your boobs for support and arching forward to chase for more of that incredible feeling.
"taste so good princess.." he groaned into your pussy, using his two fingers to push your pussy lips aside for more access to your clit. "h-hyuck!"
your throaty grunts coming out louder than expected, your freehand reaching to place on the top of his head; tugging at his scalp making him groan. he subsided the spread of his two fingers to now inserting them inside of you at ease. you sunk into the pleasurable movements he made on you, already feeling the familiar knot in your stomach arising and ready to explode in you.
"p-please please please.." you cried feeling your orgasm rushing through you quickly, grinding down on his tongue as he scissored you open at such a quick pace, reaching places you couldn't, curling them at just the right degree and hitting all the right spots— maybe he does hold his precious little title after all.
"cum baby, lemme taste you.." his simple words had you falling into a pit of pleasure, cumming harder than you ever had before making your stomach and thighs tense before turning into a sensitive shaking mess. "f-fuck!" you cried with both hands now gripping on your bedsheets for your dear life as he worked your pussy like magic. clenching your thighs around his head as he never came to a halt, fingers pumping in and out of you with his tongue licking at your clit at a brief movement.
"hyuck hyuck hyuck.." fuck fuck fuck
you spoke his name like a mantra, feeling your stomach twist and body jolting with electricity as if someone had put a defibrillator on you. "so good princess.. so good." and unfamiliar feeling erupted in you, the same feeling you had got when you would accidentally overstimulate yourself before you would stop due to the overwhelming feeling— it felt like an all-time high as he worked you up faster, pumping into you harder and deeper with his a-1 tongue game circling your bud beautifully.
"o-oh my god.."
you gasped letting whatever was pushing to come out of you out; ears ringing and eyes shut tight you couldn't hear how loud you were let alone the gushing sounds of your juices squirting out of you. hyuck continued his work until he knew you were fully satisfied; you felt numb and completely worn out, squirting as much as you could let you out before pushing hyuck away to signify you were truly done with his work.
"well.. now you can't tell me i'm not the school's sex god.."
he wiped his drenched face off with the ends of his shirt before completely taking it off and tossing it to the side with the pile of your scattered clothes. you lazily opened your eyes as he flopped down next to you, giggling as he pulled you into his embrace. "maybe you should prove it to me at least one more time.."
"god you're so obsessed with me!"
⭐︎
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Text
[Commissioned] Rave-Up: Hyunjin LOOSSEMBLE
Tags: Non-con, Drugs, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, A Lot Of Squirting, A Little Fingering, Thigh Fucking, Face Fucking, Cum Swallowing, Creampie (kind of mentioned breeding)
Character(s): M!Reader × Kim Hyunjin
Word Count: 4,836
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The music blasted through your ears, pumping up the thrill within you. This was no ordinary party. It was a crazy-ass rave with zero rules and zero inhibitions. Neon lights lit up the joint, shining on a sea of people lost in the moment. You took a swig of your drink, savoring the sweet kick of alcohol mixed with the party's wild energy.
A bunch of tipsy women couldn't take their eyes off you. Even though they didn't really tickle your fancy, you played along, soaking up their attention. You danced, flirted, and ran your hands all over their hot bodies, riding that adrenaline rush.
But as the night rolled on, boredom started creeping in. The once mind-blowing activities had turned into a snoozefest, and the chicks who were once smoking hot seemed like dime a dozen. Just when you thought the night couldn't get any more dull, you saw her.
She was drop-dead gorgeous, hotter than most babes in this rave. Her long, messy black hair and that smooth midriff peeking out between her top and fitting jeans had you hooked. She was straight-up dancing like she didn't give a buck about the world. Her flushed face let you know she was in some higher state than normal.
Well, everyone here practically snorted or swallowed something before the lights went wild and the music deafened their ears. It all came down to what kinda crazy mix of drugs they popped with Molly to either stay aware or get lost in a cloud of bliss.
You maneuvered through the crowd, dodging the blinding lights and thunderous beats. You stood right in front of her as she grooved and jumped to the music. Her messy hair didn't seem to bother her, but her icy stare and the way she swiped her hair back told you everything.
"Come on, just back off. I'm not interested in whatever you're after," she poked your chest once and giggled like a half-drunk person. "Got it? So, move it." With that, she stepped down from the dance platform and headed towards the chill-out zone.
You were the one who scoped out this warehouse for the organizer, who happened to be your best friend's senior. The layout of this place was etched in your freaking brain. There was no way she could escape you. Whoever the hell she was, you were hell-bent on finding out.
Jumping down, you followed her into the hallway, checking her out as she held the wall and turned the corner. Nobody was around. They were all busy getting their minds blown by the sick DJ and performers on stage. Not that anybody would care. 
Feeling the heat and looking for someone to play with, you figured it wasn't so bad for being sober. Tagging along behind her, you saw her messing around with the vending machine outside the resting area. The booming beats from the main area turned into a distant background buzz.
She didn't waste time noticing your presence and rolling her eyes. "Oh my god... Can't you get it through your thick skull that I'm not into you? Don't you understand Korean?"
"Yeah, I get Korean just fine. What I don't get is why you gotta be so rude. I just wanna be friends and have a blast together. Isn't that what this event is all about?" You tried to keep it cool as you watched her bend down, her round ass was firm. "No need to be a total bitch about it."
She scoffed, grabbing the canned drink from the pickup box. "Friends? Hilarious." Then she giggled, sneaking a peek at your crotch and spotting your boner. "You're not exactly subtle, are you?" She tiptoed closer and whispered in your ear. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but you won't find that kind of action from this Kim Hyunjin bitch, okay?”
Hyunjin stepped back, almost tripping, feeling extra pleased in teasing you, clueless that she was starting to get on your nerves. The fact that she got all wild at this rave but acted all prude and shit was a total contradiction. It pissed you off.
Besides, it wasn't up to Hyunjin to decide what you could or couldn't get. It was the other way around. "A pretty name," you said, snatching the canned drink from her hand and cracking it open. "Too bad you won't be so pretty after I'm done with your sorry cunt." You poured the liquid over her head.
Hyunjin flinched when the cold drink hit her hair, drops dripping down onto her bare shoulders. "Hey! What the fuck!? You're crazy!" She shot you a glare.
"That's what you get for being a rude bitch, Kim Hyunjin." You laughed and splashed the rest of the juice on her dumbstruck face, making her gasp and cough before she wiped the liquid away from her closed eyes.
As you yanked on Hyunjin's hair, the can slipped from your grasp and clattered onto the hard concrete floor. She squirmed and struggled, trying to pry your hand away, but her efforts were in vain. With a firm push, you propelled her into the storage room, causing her to land on her ass, and swiftly shut the door behind you. Her voice filled the air, laced with anger and confusion. 
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Hyunjin shouted, regaining her footing. But before she could take any further action, you swiftly delivered a stinging slap to her face, causing her to stumble backward. 
"Don't play the innocent act, you pretentious bitch. You sniffed those candies, didn't you? What else would you do it for if not to have some fun?" The room was dimmer compared to the outside, yet you could still make out the glimmer of tears in her eyes and the sharpness of her glare. 
Through clenched teeth, Hyunjin yelled, "That's none of your fucking business!" She rushed towards you, shoving your solid chest, attempting to slip past you towards the door. 
You allowed Hyunjin to dart past you, her hand nearly grazing the door handle. Seizing the opportunity, you wrapped your arms around her from behind, dragging her towards the left side of the wall where shelves and cabinets were filled with spare beverages and snacks. 
In the corner of the room, a table adorned with empty flat boxes caught your attention. You took your time, relishing the sensation of her soft ass inadvertently brushing against your clothed erection. 
"Let me go! Uhh!" Hyunjin thrashed harder, desperate to break free, only to be thrown against the table, her front colliding with the boxes. "Fuck!" 
She had no chance to turn around as you bent her over the table, applying pressure to her back to prevent her from getting up. "You're quite vulgar for such a cute girl," you chuckled, leaning forward and planting a kiss on her neck. Her eyelids shut tight in response. 
Given your height advantage, accessing every part of her body was effortless. Taking advantage of this, you slipped your hand between her legs, feeling the fabric that covered her pussy, and began rubbing it roughly.
"Quit fucking touching me! Let go!" Hyunjin's hands instinctively went for yours, trying to yank them away from her sensitive lady bits, even though you hadn't even made direct contact yet. She knew right away that it was because of the damn MDMA she had tried out. Struggling for a hot sec had her already breathless.
"I know you're getting all wet from just having your pussy rubbed like this. No need to be shy," you said, pressing your palm harder against her groin.
"Fuck off, you asshole! You—You can't do shit to me!" Hyunjin's voice wavered a bit as she fought back, attempting to push herself off the table, hoping to break free from your grip.
"Really? You think I'm just messing around, Kim Hyunjin?" You eased up on pressing her back and pulled her straight up, wrapping your arm around her neck. "Curse at me one more time, I dare you."
"What the—"
You clamped your hand over Hyunjin's mouth, and she struggled to pry it off. Meanwhile, your other hand cheekily unbuttoned her jeans, giving her a clear idea of what was in store.
"Mmph!!!" Hyunjin thrashed harder, kicking the floor and twisting her body, but it didn't do jack shit for her.
You pressed your hand against her mouth even harder, tasting her sweat as you licked up her neck, all the way to her earlobe. Once the button was undone, you moved on to the zipper, slowly pulling it down. You could feel her heavy breaths against your hand while you gripped the waistband of her jeans.
With your arm straightened, her panties were on full display, along with those juicy inner thighs that you eagerly grabbed hold of, loving how plump and soft they felt.
"Damn, you're kinda thick, huh. Why were you hiding these goodies?"
Because she didn't deserve to be treated like this. Inside her head, she screamed about how wrong it was. But unfortunately, there was nothing she could do. Her body responded to your touches, weakening her resistance. You gave her thigh a hard squeeze, leaving a red mark on her skin, then delivered a slap to the other side, causing it to jiggle as she instinctively closed her legs.
Hyunjin's voice muffled against your hand. You assumed she was hurling vulgar curses at you as she grabbed your hand on her pussy. Her pulse raced with a mix of panic and fear. What you were about to do would leave a lasting impact on her, both physically and mentally.
Your fingers glided over her clothed pussy. You pressed your palm against it, feeling the wetness already seeping through her panties. Hyunjin's breath hitched as she felt your touch, her body arching.
"Let's see what kind of slut you really are now." You ran a finger along her slit, chuckling at the dampness despite her desperate resistance. "See? Just a phony slut, nothing more."
You ripped off her panties, the sound reverberating in the room. Hyunjin gasped as the cool air greeted her exposed core. Without wasting a moment, you plunged two fingers into her, feeling her tight walls clench around them.
Hyunjin's body trembled under your touch, her moans muffled against your hand. Her wetness coated your fingers as her body eagerly responded to your actions.
With each thrust of your fingers, she squirmed against you, her sensitivity escalating. Her inner walls tightened around your fingers, her satisfied moans growing louder as you picked up the pace. And that's when you felt it— her squirting, her juices drenching your hand as she screamed.
You continued prodding her insides, her body shaking as she rode out her orgasm. Her legs quivered as she struggled to stand, but you held her steady, refusing to let her escape your grasp.
"You're nothing but a filthy little slut," you growled in her ear. "Look at you, squirting all over my hand like a dirty whore." 
Hyunjin could only whimper in response, the pleasure and humiliation merging in her mind. She felt a tingling surge coursing through her body, biting her lip in the hope that you would stop. But you didn't. Her body tensed once more, her inner walls tightening around your fingers as she neared her second orgasm. 
You persisted, probing her depths without mercy as she cried out. And when she finally came undone again, the satisfaction of her scream and the intensity of her climax made you chuckle.
Her pussy was dripping, her arousal evident as it coated your fingers while you pumped them in and out of her with increased speed. Her body teetered on the brink of ecstasy. Then you curled your fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot that made Hyunjin's vision go blank. 
Another muffled scream escaped her as her body trembled, releasing her essence all over your hand and the floor. Withdrawing your fingers, you licked them clean, savoring her taste, as you observed Hyunjin collapsing against the table, her legs shaking from the overwhelming sensations.
"You've had your fun, so now it's time to return the favor like a bitch with manners, alright?" you quipped, casually undoing your pants. With a nonchalant gesture, you slid them down along with your boxers and even kicked off your shoes, stepping out of the jumbled mess of clothes.
Before the brunette had any chance of turning around or making a run for it, you wrapped your arms around her tummy and slipped your veiny cock between her supple thighs, giving her pussy a teasing rub. The pure bliss you felt made it all worth it, finally finding something worthwhile in the midst of this wild rave party.
Hyunjin then gasped as you roughly pulled her cropped vest off her arms and tore her flimsy white top in half, exposing her perky tits to the cool air. Wasting no time, you fondled and mauled her mounds. Her nipples instantly hardened under your palms. 
She whimpered, trying to move her ass away while the upperside of your rock-hard cock sliding back and forth through her soaked pussy lips. Hyunjin trembled, her back arched and her ass involuntarily grinding back to meet your thrusts. 
You pulled her against your chest, burying your nose in the crook of her neck. Her sweet floral scent filled your nostrils as you squeezed her thighs, pushing them together to fuck her harder. Wet smacking sounds filled the air with each slam of your hips.
"You like that?" you growled in her ear. "You like my thick cock splitting those pretty, needy pussy lips?"
Hyunjin whimpered and shook her head frantically, her hands clawing at the boxes on the table. You reached around to rub tight circles over her clit, and she cried out. Her pussy clenched and quivered on top of your cock as another orgasm ripped through her petite frame.
"Fuck! Oh God— Please stop!" she wailed, and hot juices gushed over your shaft and balls.
This girl's smooth thighs were next-level amazing. They had you on the edge of blowing your load right then and there. But there was so much more she had to offer, and you weren't about to let that go to waste. Your primal instincts were in full control, driven purely by raw lust.
You grabbed Hyunjin's hair and yanked her head back roughly, trapping her against the table before you flipped Hyunjin over onto her back, her ass at the edge and spread her trembling thighs wide. She stared up at you with horror as you lined your cock up with her swollen, squirting pussy.
"Please, no..." she begged, but you ignored her protests.
Pinning her down with your weight, you gripped her thick thighs and spread them apart. Your hard cock slid between her pussy lips, already slick with her juices. You didn't give a fuck if she was ready or not. With one harsh thrust, you hilted yourself inside her tight cunt. Hyunjin screamed into her own hand as you stretched her open, not giving her time to adjust.
"Shut up, you little slut," you growled, burying your nose in her hair. "This pussy belongs to me now."
You set a speedy pace, your hips slamming against her ass cheeks with every stroke. Hyunjin sobbed and squirmed beneath you, but you squeezed her thighs tighter, using them as handles to fuck her harder.
"You're fucking dripping for it, you dirty whore," you sneered, feeling her arousal wetting your shaft. "I knew you wanted this cock."
Reaching down, you rubbed her sensitive clit using your thumb. Hyunjin cried out as her pussy clenched and gushed more of her juices. But you didn't let up, pounding into her spasming cunt with animalistic force until she fell limp.
"No, please...I can't take any more! Ahh! Shit—" she begged, gripping the edges of the table.
Ignoring her pleas, you slammed your hips forward, burying youself to the hilt inside her abused cunt. "Shut your fucking mouth, slut," you bellowed, starting to pound into her harder, her tightness took your breath away. "This pussy is mine to use however I want, ugh!!!”
"No! Let me go, you fucker– Hng! I can't take it! you're too big!" she cried.
You backhanded her hard across the face, making her yelp. "I didn't ask for your opinion, whore. This pussy belongs to me!"
You gripped Hyunjin's hair in a tight fist, holding her head still as you ravaged her mouth with bruising kisses. She whimpered against your lips as if you care, biting and sucking until you tasted copper.
"Fucking look at me when I'm using you," you snarled, giving her hair a harsh yank.
Hyunjin's eyes flew open, dark pools of fear and arousal staring up at you as you rutted against her. She was completely spent, her frame trembling with overstimulation, but her abused pussy was still convulsing and squirting weakly with each grind of your hips.
"Please...I can't..." she gasped out, but her words were cut off by a guttural moan as you roughed up her tits.
You squeezed and kneaded the soft mounds, pinching her hard nipples between calloused fingers until they were red and swollen. Hyunjin arched her back, pushing her chest further into your cruel grip as you toyed with her sensitive flesh.
"Slut doesn't get to decide when it's over and when it's not," you said, giving her nipples a vicious twist.
Hyunjin yelped, and a fresh gush of liquid flooded over your cock, still buried to the base inside her. You pulled out slowly until just the bulbous head remained inside her swollen lips, then slammed your hips forward again. The sudden intrusion made Hyunjin's whole body jolt, her eyes rolling back as she took your punishing length.
Gripping her slim waist tightly, you set a ruthless pace, hilting yourself over and over again into her ruined, squirting hole. Wet, filthy noises filled the air as you ruined her pussy, using her as nothing more than a set of useless holes.
"F-fuck! Too much!" Hyunjin sobbed, her nails raking down your arms as she clung to you.
You didn't slow, couldn't slow, not with how perfectly her squirming insides hugged your cock. Each thrust made her silky walls ripple and flutter around you, milking your shaft for every drop. You could feel her juices pouring out, drenching your balls and legs.
"Do you feel how fucking soaked you are for this dick?" you panted against her neck, teeth grazing her pulse point. "This sloppy cunt was made to take my cock."
Tilted her pelvis up to take you even deeper, Hyunjin howled as you bottomed out, the bulge of your cock clearly visible moving beneath her taut stomach with each motion. Her legs shook with the strain of being spread so wide, her toes curling and back arching almost painfully.
"That's it, let me hear you scream," you growled, giving a sharp thrust that made her whole body twist and turn. "Let the whole fucking world know what a desperate little cumdump you are."
Hyunjin’s mouth opened in a silent wail as another intense orgasm crashed over her, squirting hard around your pistoning meat as she came apart. Reaching down, you rubbed her engorged clit using your thumb, her back bowing even further off the table as you assaulted her sensitive bud.
Your own orgasm rapidly approaching as Hyunjin's spasming pussy milked your needy cock, so you pulled out of her pussy, strings of stickiness connecting your shaft to her reddened entrance. Grabbing a fistful of Hyunjin's hair, you dragged the sobbing girl off the table and down to her knees in front of you. She shook her head weakly, but you paid her no mind, guiding the thick head of your cock to her plump lips.
"Open up for me, slut," you ordered, giving her hair a yank. "This load's going right down your throat. Must be thirty, right? Cumming so much like a broken whore.”
Hyunjin had no choice but to part her lips as you shoved forward into the wet heat of her mouth. She immediately started choking and gagging, her throat wrenching around your girth as you buried it as deep as it could get.
"Oh, fuck… Take it all you pretentious bitch of a whore," you groaned, feeling her nose pressed against your pelvis.
You didn't give Hyunjin a chance to breathe, immediately fucking in and out of her throat with rough strokes. Her mascara ran in thick rivers down her face as she choked and drooled around your nailing rod, but you didn't care, couldn't care about anything except the intense pleasure.
Gripping the back of her head tightly, used her mouth as a fuckhole, slamming in deep until she gagged and sputtered. You could feel her throat spasming, desperate for air, but you refused to let up, because her discomfort gave extra stimulation to you so kept fucking her pretty face.
"You were made for this, Kim Hyunjin. That's what you really are," you belittle her lower, heavy balls slapping against her chin, splattering her spit everywhere.
Hyunjin's eyes rolled back as she started to go limp, her jaw hanging open limply as you used her. Tears and drool streamed down her flushed cheeks, mixing with the mess of makeup and sweat already overlaying her face.
A harsh grunt, grinding your hips against her face, you started to unload. You could feel Hyunjin's throat struggling and pulsing as you pumped thick ropes of cum straight down into her belly, filling her up until it leaked out around your girth.
"Swallow it all like a good little cumslut," you panted, giving a few more shallow thrusts to wring out the last few spurts.
Hyunjin choked and struggled to breathe around the flood of seed pouring down her gullet. A few moments later when you were completely drained, you pulled out, letting the last few drops splatter across her wrecked face. 
Hyunjin slumped forward, coughing and gasping for air, a mess of makeup, drool, and your fresh cum all the while her ravaged pussy was still visibly leaking, her thighs soaked with the evidence of how thoroughly you had used her.
You took a step back and admired the utter wreck you had made of Hyunjin. She was sprawled on the floor, panting with ragged breaths. Thick ropes of your seed coated her face and dripped from her pale lips. Her makeup was smeared in streaks, mixing with tears and drool to leave her looking like a cheap whore. Her cunt was a puffy, inflamed mess, the lips swollen. You could see her gaping entrance fluttering weakly, as if her body was already craving more abuse.
Chuckling, you swiped a can of beer from a nearby cabinet and cracked it open, taking a long pull. May as well give this little slut a break and let her think she had a moment of respite. As you drank, you watched Hyunjin's chest heaving, her pert tits rising and falling rapidly with each shuddering breath. Her nipples were red, the dark peaks begging to be abused further.
You felt your cock stiffening once more at the sight of her pitiful, ruined state. Seems the whore's body was just made to be used, no matter how thoroughly you wrecked her.
Downing the last of your beer, you stalked over and hauled Hyunjin up by her hair. She immediately started sniveling and thrashing weakly, trying in vain to escape your grasp. But she could barely support her own weight, her legs like jelly after her overpowering orgasms.
You bent over  and lifted her hips. Hyunjin screamed hoarsely as you lined your thick cock up with her battered slit and slammed forward, impaling her once again. Her raw, overstimulated walls embraced your invading cock like a vice.
"Please...no more… I'm sorry…" she sobbed brokenly, drool escaping the corners of her mouth as you started pounding away.
However, her body betrayed her as her ass unconsciously grinding back to meet your constant thrusts. You could feel more of her cum wrapping your busy cock once more as you pleasured yourself with her pussy, her silken walls massaging your cock.
"That's it, whore, milk this cock with your tight stupid pussy. It feels fucking nice, isn't it? You almost missed out on all this fun… Huu, ugh!" you grunted, giving her ass a couple of slaps.
Hyunjin moaned and clenched down hard, a fresh flow of her juices splattering out around your disappearing cock. Her muscles coiled with each stretching of her canal, her back arched sharply as she took your ruthless assertion. The battered girl’s body was completely overwhelmed, a slave to the intense sensations wracking her limp vessel.
You grabbed Hyunjin's arms and wrenched them back behind her, using them as makeshift handles to yank her onto your rougher thrust. She screeched incoherently as the bulbous head of your cock punched up into her cervix with each forceful thrust.
"That's it, take it all the way up into your fucking womb.” You offered her slender arms a vicious tug.
Hyunjin's stiff legs bent back, her toes not even touching the floor as you railed upward into the depth of her core. Her raw, overstimulated walls wrung erratically around your pulsing cock, her moisture pouring out in waves to pool on floor
It was all too much for her weakened body to endure. Hyunjin’s cries descended into guttural, animalistic screams as you used her like a personal onahole. Tears and drool streamed down her blotchy face, mixing into a smeared, filthy mess.
"Please...stop! You can't— Oughhh!" she howled, her voice cracking from the sheer intensity of the sensations overwhelming her.
Regardless, her traitorous cunt just kept leaking and squeezing around your cock, begging to be filled again and again, desperately milking your cock as if starved for your seed. You could feel your heavy balls tightening, signaling the impending explosion.
Spun Hyunjin around and slammed her down onto her back, never breaking the seal of her velvety vice. You immediately sank back into her hole, burying your entire cock in one brutal shove. Pinning her down with your weight, you wrapped one arm around her slender neck, squeezing just enough to make her eyes bulge. Hyunjin gurgled and thrashed beneath you.
Sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder, you started snapping your hips in short quick motion. Hyunjin groaned and clawed at your restraining arm as you ruthlessly plundered her spasming depths until you finally unloaded, cords of thick cum flooding into her womb, draining every drop as you pumped her full of your seed.
By the time you finished pulling up your pants, Hyunjin was a slack mess on the floor, her eyes glued tight and mouth hanging open. You took a step back and admired the utter wreck you had turned Hyunjin into. Her broken body was splayed, covered in a thick coating of your cum and her own juices, her once silky hair a tangled mess.
Reaching down, you grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrenched her head up, exposing the deep bite mark you had left on her shoulder. Hyunjin's eyes fluttered open weakly, glassy and unfocused from the sheer depravity you had subjected her to.
"Why so sad? That's a good look for you, Kim Hyunjin," you smirked, giving her head a harsh shake. "All fucked out and bred like the useless cumdump you are."
Letting her head drop back to the floor, you fished out your phone and snapped a few degrading photos of her filthy tainted leaking form. Hyunjin didn't even react, just laid there motionless save for the occasional twitch of her thighs.
You brought your hand back and delivered a slap across her already messy face. A thin trickle of blood started from the corner of her swollen lips, but still she gave no response, no cry of pain. Just the slow blink of her vacant eyes as she stared up at you unseeingly.
"You're my slut now, you hear me?" you stated, gripping her jaw and shaking her head again. "You better come running with your cunt ready whenever I call." You shot her one last disdainful look up and down her soiled, abused body.
With that, you turned and left the storage room, leaving Hyunjin a broken, defiled mess on the floor. She didn't move, couldn't move, could barely even think through the haze of overstimulation and degradation. All she could feel was the dull, throbbing ache between her trembling legs. Her entire body felt numb, used up and discarded like a piece of trash after you had taken your fill. 
More than the physical pain, Hyunjin felt utterly disgusted with herself. Disgusted at how her body had betrayed her, cumming again and again despite the filthy violation she received. Curling in on herself, Hyunjin let out a low, keening whimper as the first sobs started to wrack her shattered frame.
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Text
𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧
didn't really wanna write this in the first place, considering my faith, but ugh it was too good of an idea to resist😅
Summary: Aemond was always God's favorite creation, that is, until He made you.
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), ROUGH NONCON, Lucifer!Aemond x Eve!Reader (does this count as monster fucking?), a whole lotta blasphemy going on here, guilt, degradation, humiliation, corruption, taste of the forbidden fruit (aka oral, m!receiving), painful loss of virginity, blood, creampie, Aemond is very very mean
word count | 2.4k🤙🏻
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As soon as Aemond was created, he knew he was made for greatness.
Aemond was the most beautiful out of all of the angels, the most beloved and cherished. God put a lot of effort into sculpting him out of the finest materials, making him appear ethereal, almost as much as Him. It shouldn’t have been much of a shock when some of the angels preferred his company to God’s, telling him how much better he could run things, what things he could achieve if the Creator simply…ceased to exist.
Aemond tried, and Aemond failed, forcing God’s hand to banish him and his fallen angels from paradise, making Aemond lose his eye in the process. He refused to bow down and blindly obey what claimed to be a superior being than everything else, and he was thrown into Hell for wanting his own independence.
Aemond grew bitter and angry, what kind of Father did that to his beloved creation? 
He vowed from then on that he’d try to spurn his Creator at every moment he could, devoting himself to make God have a perpetual headache as revenge. He’d destroy anything and everything He loved and wanted to protect, burn Heaven’s gates to the fucking ground. 
So when Aemond saw God had made such fragile little toys to roam what he called Earth, he took every opportunity to maim and kill each creature. But that only made God create beings that could take care of said creatures.
Aemond and his demons could only laugh at the smooth skinned being that God created out of dust. Dust, he thought derisively, how inferior this so-called human is compared to me to be made out of something so quaint.
Aemond attempted to push all sorts of dangerous thoughts into the human’s head, wanting the man to destroy and self-destruct, but all he managed to get through was the feeling of loneliness.
Then, in response to the human man’s loneliness, God created a similar being to keep this human company; you, whose beauty almost matched Aemond’s, and he suddenly came to the realization that he wasn’t God’s favorite anymore.
God didn’t walk with Adam as much as he did with you, little Eve, doting on you and granting you whatever you wished without you even having to ask. No, no, no, this won’t do, Aemond thought maliciously, only he could be God’s favorite. No…Aemond had to ruin you.
Watching you and Adam live in blissful ignorance, speaking and being in the presence of the Lord, boiled his blood, hotter than he had ever felt before. But one silver lining, the Tree of Knowledge.
God told you and Adam that you could eat from any tree or plant you wished, just never the Tree of Knowledge for you would surely die. Aemond smirked to himself as he devised his plan. He would make damn sure one of you would eat the forbidden fruit.
Aemond came to you when you were by yourself, disguising himself in the appearance of a serpent, the only form he could take in your presence, which irked him, but he’d make do.
You eyed the serpent carefully, watching as it slithered across the grass towards you, seemingly just watching you as you worked in the garden…until it started to speak.
“Did God really say you must not eat from any tree in the garden?” The serpent spoke.
“We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but the Lord God did say, you must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.” You answered hesitantly, still very confused why a snake was speaking to you like it was a man. But a part of you were intrigued, his voice was soft and alluring; entranced, you had to listen to what it had to say.
The serpent seemed to scoff. “Surely you will not die.” The serpent climbed up the tree, taking a bite from the lowest hanging fruit, a loud gasp eliciting from your own lips as you saw the being swallow and didn’t immediately fall dead. “See? Who is He to tell you what you can and can’t do, hm? Aren’t you supposed to be free?”
A sinking feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, feelings of rage and betrayal encompassing you. “I-I…I am free! You have forgotten your place, beast!” You snapped, “The Lord God loves us and wants the best for us. He must have a reason!”
“You think everything is perfect, silly girl?” The serpent giggled, circling around you like the predator he was, eyeing your naked form, finding a reluctant feeling of gratefulness that God chose your features so well. “There’s so much wonder here right in front of your eyes, all you have to do is simply take a bite of the fruit.”
You shook your head defiantly. “No. He said we’d die. Why would He lie?”
“Because, if you eat from the tree, your eyes will be opened for what the world really is. You’ll understand right from wrong. You will be like Him. Consider, for just a second, if God truly loved you, He wouldn’t keep all this knowledge from you, right? Why would He keep something so simple from someone so innocent? Maybe He wants it all for Himself because He doesn’t think you deserve to feel all the joys He feels, that you’ll never feel. Ask yourself, why does He give you less when He takes more? How being free is being locked inside this place? Maybe you're weak or a mistake or too emotional. Maybe you're not good enough for His world, maybe you never were…”
Aemond could see the hesitance slowly leave your face, finally considering what he was saying to be the truth. Yes, little Eve, eat. “He’ll never know, sweet little lamb. I’ll never tell, you have my word. You deserve to know, you deserve to be free.”
The serpent’s poisonous words penetrated into your mind, making your mouth water from just the thought of finally eating from the forbidden tree. You had to admit, the tree was pleasant to the eye, the fruit it bore looked so delectable, like water on a hot day, maybe it would have always come to this? If not now, then definitely later.
You picked the same piece of fruit the serpent had bit into before, the skin of the fruit so soft and ripe, you were practically drooling as you brought it to your lips, taking a considerable bite.
As soon as the sweet yet bitter flavor hit your tongue, it felt like all the walls came down and the heavens opened. It was the best thing you had ever tasted in your life, the taste almost making you moan aloud. And you weren’t dead, in fact, you had never felt more alive. But your skin prickled at the breeze hitting your skin, and you realized you were naked. How long have you been naked? And the serpent was no longer with you, instead, a tall figure stood in front of you now, transformed as soon as the fruit traveled down your throat.
Unlike the serpent, the being in front of you was too beautiful to be any sort of beast, or human for that matter. You teared up instantly, the sight being too amazing for your human mind to comprehend. “Who…who…?” Was all you could get out.
“I am called many names, little lamb. Lucifer, Satan, Devil, Father of Lies, and much more…but you may call me Aemond.”
Your stomach dropped, the fruit sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone, burning from the inside out; you wanted to vomit. What have you done? You almost screamed when he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you close to him, your chest touching his, your breasts pressed uncomfortably against the leather of his clothing.
“You just had to give into temptation, didn’t you? You just had to taste it.” The Devil disapproved mockingly, an evil grin decorating his face, making his visage all the more menacing.
“You…you deceived me!” You sobbed, “You lied! You-!”
“Ah, ah, ah, can’t claim yourself to be innocent now, little girl. Now, the trust is broken. How will your God ever love you now?” He purred, licking up your free flowing tears from your cheeks and moaning at the salty taste. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong, holding your head in place, his fingers digging into your skin, once never blemished nor tainted now marked by the beast. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Besides, I’ve got something else for you to taste.”
You begged for him to stop as he forced you on your knees, the grassy floor that once felt so soft now cutting up your flesh, itching and burning. “Please, don’t do this to me!”
Aemond only snickered, “Poor girl, you have no idea how evil this world really is, huh? This is just a taste of what’s to come. Be grateful this is all I want…for now.” Aemond forced your mouth open, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing his fingers into your mouth, choking you until he replaced them with his cock. “Ah, such a sweet, innocent, unused mouth. Adam never made you do this, hm?”
You couldn’t force back your tears, copiously flowing down your cheeks along with the drool on your chin. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat over and over, you gagged and almost vomited until he gave you a breather, pulling back and looking over your tear stained face with a sickening awe. “So pretty…prettier than me, I must admit.” His eyes darkened in jealousy. “That bastard can’t possibly love you more than me once I’m finished with you.”
In one swift movement, Aemond had you on all fours, shoving your face into the ground, dirt and grass covering the side of your face uncomfortably. You screamed as he shoved his cock inside you in one thrust, filling and stretching you almost impossibly wide. The pain had your ears ringing and vision going white, sweat beading out of every pore in your skin as he forced you to take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Did Adam never take you to bed? I figured as much, such prudish creatures. Don’t worry, my sweet little lamb, I’ll break you in for him.”
As if you thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, his brutal thrusts had you sobbing, the amount of tears you shed causing the soil to turn into mud beneath you, grass getting underneath your fingernails with how hard you were holding on to keep yourself from passing out. “S-Stop, please, mercy!” You begged.
“Mercy?” He growled. “I’ve begged for mercy too many times to count, I never received any. Neither shall you. Now shut up and take my cock like a good little lamb.”
“God…please…make this end…” You whispered into the ground, only to get a mocking laugh in return.
“He can’t save you now.”
Aemond’s thrusts were wild, trying to make it as painful for you as possible, watching your blood drip down your inner thighs and making a little puddle on the ground, staining the grass. But along with the blood, an almost white fluid made a ring around the base of his cock. “Oh, starting to enjoy this now, are you?” He grinned evilly, gripping your hair to pull you back against his chest, his other hand reaching around to hold your neck.
As much as you hated to admit it, yes. The pain slowly went away, all that was left was an achy pressure in the pit of your stomach, a burning that seemed to grow in intensity with every harsh thrust he made. “S-Stop…”
Aemond hummed in disapproval. “Why do you resist the pleasure you feel? Give in to sin and you can have anything you want in the world.”
“No…” You said to yourself. “No!”
Aemond chuckled. “So defiant, I like that. Makes it more fun to break you.”
You gasped as Aemond reached down to rub circles around a spot you didn’t even know existed, the sensation overwhelming but you didn’t want it to stop, though you’d never admit this. It made the pressure in your stomach only grow faster, moans escaping you and getting louder the more he touched you. “What’s happening?” You cried, panicking.
“You’re about to reach your peak, little lamb. You’re about to feel one of the most pleasurable of sins, and all because of me.”
“No, stop! Don’t make me, please!” 
But it was too late, you reached the point of no return. It felt like you were going to die, the feeling was so intense, your whole body convulsing and spasming around Aemond’s cock. And with it, a dark feeling overtaking you. 
You groaned loudly, an almost growling noise, as you reached your peak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, only to come back as black voids. There was no white in your eyes nor color, just darkness. Your fingernails pushed out, being replaced with claws. Your canines fell out, being replaced with fangs. A brutal ache in your skull had you crying out, blood dripping down your face as a horn on either side of your head grew from beneath your skin.
“Yes, dark little lamb, give in to me.” Aemond cooed, and for the first time, you listened to him.
Aemond flipped you onto your back, looking down at you in a mocking admiration, grinning as your skin grayed and veins went red, beginning to resemble one of his demons.
He was taken by surprise as you flipped him onto his back with a shocking amount of power, shoving his cock back inside you and began to ride him violently. “There she is, there’s my fallen angel.” He groaned as his cock began to pulse, your walls squeezing him just right as you made yourself come around him as many times as you could, the feeling addicting to you now. “Fuck, do you want my seed, little Eve?”
“Don’t call me that.” You growled, scratching up his chest with your new claws, drawing copious amounts of blood, your now forked tongue lapping up the red fluid. The added pain made Aemond reach his peak quickly, his cum filling you to the brim. With one more cry, you sprouted dark wings, fluttering softly but just enough it brought you to your feet. 
Aemond stood up with a grin, watching as his cum dripped down your shaky legs, mixing with your blood. “You’re mine now, understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Hm, now what shall I call you, if not Eve?” You pondered his question for a brief moment, before ultimately deciding your new name and your new fate.
“Lilith.”
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hey y'all, thought i'd post a little something something for Valentine's Day. I wrote the first half of this months ago and then i got a boyfriend and stopped writing but i really liked this idea and decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed!
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hungharrington · 8 months
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STEEB SENDING AUDIOOS
MDNI this entire blog is 18+
this…. this thought…. ok cos he’s a bit of a slut, steve knows what he’s doing already, okay? he doesn’t even need any training from you - he fucking knows that it’s all about the whines and moans and while he’s vocal in bed with you, it’s a whole nother level if he’s sending something when he’s alone— like just the thought of you listening to it wherever you are, clenching your thighs and getting all flustered, gets him all the more whimpery, rambles and rambles pouring out his mouth
he’s mean with the timing as well. you’re out with your friends, at a restaurant catching up for one of their birthdays and you hadn’t gotten to see steve the last couple days too- both of your shifts getting in the way. steve’s been that usual level of clingy when you guys spend a couple days apart, texts every couple of hours saying i miss you sweetheart >:( and i love you btw! and that oh my god it’s been literally so long since i’ve seen you i’m forgetting what you look like because he is the worlds biggest drama queen — but when it comes to dinner time, your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you fish it out innocently, figuring it’s another sappy message from your bf - and you’re half right! it is a message from your boyfriend but it’s a message that says i miss you :( followed by an voice message
you stare at it for a whole minute, a hot spark burning low in your gut— it could be that he went out with robbie and has had a couple drinks but it’s a little too early for him to be that trashed. just to be safe, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and silently curse yourself for not bringing any headphones as you slip into the empty bathroom, sliding into a stall for privacy just in case — pressing play, you hold the phone up to your ear with the volume on low and strain to listen.
for a moment it’s quiet, then you can hear some shuffling, like steve’s rearranging himself and then his low voice rasps through your speaker, “hey baby,” there’s another shuffling sound before he speaks again, voice a little breathier than usual, “know you’re out with your friends, m’sorry, just keep looking at how goddamn pretty y’look tonight— that photo you sent?” he pauses, inhaling jaggedly, and there, in the pause, you can hear a faint lewd noises and the spark in your tummy catches, burning hotter. he’s jerking off- he’s fucking sent you a voice message of him jerking off while you’re out with friends, he’s evil. “fuck,” he huffs shakily, the sticky sound of his hand on his cock getting a little louder, his pace a little faster, “i can’t stop looking at it, at how gorgeous you look tonight, just wish you were here.”
you can’t see him but your imagination gives you plenty of fuel as steve’s shuddering breathes turn a little closer to moans, a whiney noise slipping out as he thumbs over his slit, “miss you, honey, s’just miss you so much— ah” you startle, realising you’re still in public when he lets out a particular loud moan and it echoes inside your stall. you can’t bring yourself to pause it though, just turn down the volume a click — and cross your legs tightly, holding the phone closer. bastard. he knows exactly what he does to you.
“wish it was your hand, you always- mhfm- fuck, you always treat me better, treat me so good,” he whines, more and more shallow moans reverberating through your phones speaker. you swallow heavily, feeling arousal start to pool in your tummy right as steve starts to pick up the pace properly, the squelching noises louder than ever and his moans all but whimpers now, your name amongst every one— he gets all gaspy as his orgasm gets closer and closer, the noises quieter as you realise he’s dropped his phone away from his mouth, focusing on getting himself to finish- it only makes you more hungry for his noises, holding the phone close and just when you hear him whisper your name pleadingly, like he always does before he cums, the door the bathroom opens.
you jump, scared by the sudden noise, and your phone clatters to the floor— the scuffle hides the final of steve’s pitiful noises as you frantically scoop your phone off the floor and pause it, fingers tapping wildly on your screen until the noise stops. you clutch it to your chest and there’s a moment to breath when the person who’s entered calls out your name — it’s one of your friends checking if you’re alright but considering the clatter of your phone, she hazards a good guess, “god, were you on the phone to steve? you guys are the clingiest couple i’ve ever met.” and you huff an awkward laugh, “ha, something like that- hey, i’ll be right out, gimme just a sec,”
a breath of relief escapes you when her feet turns and leave back out to the restaurant and you finally peel your phone back— feeling a flush of embarrassment as you realise you’ve somehow sent a random keysmash back to steve’s message when you dropped your phone. he’s replied back, saying exactly the reaction i intended ;) and then have a good night honey :) i’ll see you soon, i love you x
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thedevilspearl · 9 months
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wear the hat, ride the cowboy — obey me
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a/n: as promised, here are the obey me cowboys with the most votes, sorry it took so long to post ╥﹏╥ dia was originally meant to be included in this but his part got super long and will be posted as a separate fic <3
tags: 2.0k words, female reader x mammon (smoking, blowjob, riding, car sex) + beelzebub (size difference, size kink, riding, mating press). minors do not interact!
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𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍
clouds of smoke blow from mammon’s mouth as he looks down at you. you work wonders on his cock and he hisses as his tip hits the back of your throat.
“what a good girl.” he mumbles in a gruff voice and takes another puff of his cigar. “so pretty.”
he looks out over his ranch as he leans against his truck. you’re on your knees against the ground with your hands digging into his jeans as you face fuck him. his cock fills up your mouth and you pray for this to end with him filling up your pussy too.
you drove out with him to the edge of his ranch this morning to help him fix up a faulty fence. but there was little you could do in your little summer dress and cute cowboy boots. and mammon knew that so he told you to sit back and watch him while he works.
he wouldn’t want you to get your boots dirty. he knows how much you love them.
but as the hours passed under the beating sun, he began to speculate if you ever intended to help at all.
you were having fun sitting in the truck singing along to country music while wearing the hat you stole from him. but he felt your gaze on him; the constant burning on his back wasn’t coming from the high sun, but from your direction.
every time he glanced at you, you had your head in your hands with your elbows propped up on the open window of his truck, eyes glued to him and raking up and down his form as he dug a new fence into the ground.
to make an old cowboy like him blush is not an easy feat. but from the way you watched him closely as he worked on the fence, checking him out until he was sweating through his shirt, mammon felt both adored and turned on.
his cock began throbbing in his jeans and he wondered what kind of things he could do to you in that little dress. while you were benefiting from air conditioning in the truck, mammon’s body was growing hotter and hotter from the thought of you.
and when he was finally done, you jumped out the truck and pressed a kiss to his cheek while he lit up a cigar to relax.
“you worked so hard, baby,” you smile. “you deserve a reward.”
and that’s how you ended up on the ground with his cock deep in your throat. he exhales breathily, resting his head against the truck as you work him up to his orgasm. tension dissolves in his muscles from a simple swipe of your tongue, and before he knows it, he’s shooting ropes of cum down your throat.
the quiet air of the ranch is overcome with his groans and you feel your arousal sticking to your panties as you rub your thighs together for friction.
“is it my turn now?” you pant.
“i thought this was supposed to be my reward.”
“it is,” you grin. “and i’m the reward.”
he smirks in that infamously sexy way and swings open the truck door. as he settles in the driver’s seat, he pats his lap and says “hop on, darlin’.”
with a curt nod bringing your attention back to his hat on your head, know exactly what he means. it’s convenient how every single time you wear his hat, it ends with you riding him at any time and in any place.
he ruffles his hands through his hair while you fidget until you’re comfortable straddling him and he keeps his cigar in his other hand
“ready?” you tease, and wait for his charming wink before pulling aside your panties and sinking down on his cock. “oh my god!”
“not god,” he grunts. “it’s my cock that’s making ya feel good.”
“fuck!”
his hands grip your hips, digging into the flesh as you bounce up and down. you leverage yourself on the wheel, grabbing onto it behind you to hold yourself up while your hips do all the work and it allows you to spread your legs wider.
mammon is wholly enticed by the view, eyes locked on the way your pussy swallows his cock and coats it in a sheen of mixed arousal.
no words are needed. instead, a cacophony of moans and groans fill the vehicle and slowly turns into loud gasps and grunts mixing with the wet sounds of your pussy grinding on his cock.
you bounce with a messy rhythm and his cock hits all the right places, building up the tension in your gut and with one last bounce your body quivers around him. pleasure explodes and ripples through your twitching muscles and your eyes brim with tears.
“mammon!” you scream. “i’m cumming!”
“that’s it, baby,” he grunts. “cum all over my cock.”
he sticks his cigar between his teeth and uses both hands to grab your hips and fuck your trembling body on his cock. you look so pretty in that dress, and even prettier with his cock filling you up.
he rolls his hips slightly, gently fucking you both through the orgasm and his lips attach to the skin of your neck, sucking and biting with desperation.
you lean back gasping, resting against the steering wheel. with your head tossed back, mammon’s hat loses its balance but before it can slip off, you catch it and place it perfectly back on your head.
mammon can’t help but feel amused at the sight, a sense of pride filling his body as his orgasm fades.
he’s never been more happy to lend you his hat.
“attagirl.”
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𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁
the metal bed frame squeaks from your vigorous spirit. bouncing on beel’s cock often feels like a chore because of its sheer size, especially when you’re doing all the work on top.
your thighs burn from lifting your hips up and down on his length. his cock is long and thick, making it more efficient to plant your feet into the mattress next to his thighs and wrap your arms around his neck for leverage as you slam down on him.
but it requires a lot of energy, good cardio and a whole lot of stamina which you’re beginning to run out of.
beel helps you a little, but he’s riled up and wants to see how long you can keep going before timing out.
and despite your aching muscles and desperate lungs, you keep going, working his thick cock in your greedy pussy because you are not one to lose a bet.
a few hours ago, beel had taken you to the local bar for a drink with his buddies where the conversation had naturally turned more adult. and if it wasn’t the talk alone that slowly turned you on, it was everyone’s interest in yours and beel’s sex life.
beel is a big guy. huge. no one could compare to his massive build. and you are significantly shorter than the cowboy, barely reaching his shoulders.
you always thought the size difference was a good thing. you’re at the perfect height to bury your face in his chest. and beel always grabs things from the top shelf for you. you work perfectly in unison regardless of size discrepancies.
but you didn’t realise the size difference meant everyone else would look at you and assume beel does all the work in the bedroom. it apparently fuelled everyone’s dirty minds and the teasing was endless.
they weren’t wrong.
beel does the work in the bedroom most of the time, but a small part of you felt offended by their condescending jokes that implied you were incapable of taking on a dominant role. you looked at beel, expecting him to defend you and tell them about all the times — the few times — you took the lead in the bedroom, but he sipped his drink quietly, letting them continue their joking.
you’re still unsure of what came over you in the moment, but you decided you were in a daring mood and scoffed loudly before saying:
“how about i ride ya tonight, cowboy?” you smirk. “i’ll remind ya how good i am at fucking ya sorry ass.”
beel stared at you wide–eyed and speechless and you swiped his hat from him and placed it atop your own head, earning jeers and whistles from the group.
beel has never been a confrontational person, in small matters at least. but he had no hesitation in grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the bar. the usually long drive passed quick enough as he sped down the gravel roads back to the ranch. and the entire time, his hands reached over the console squeezing your thighs and groping between your legs.
when you arrived home, he hoisted you over his shoulder and marched to the bedroom, collapsing onto the old, creaky bed with a grunt. you’ve told him numerous times to replace the bed because it’s far too noisy, especially when you’re going at it like wild animals.
but there’s always something more important on the ranch that needs replacing and the squeaking bedframe, as irritating as it is, stands as a reminder that any bed, new or old, will undoubtedly make noise as long as beel is fucking you on it.
if anything, the noisy bedframe acts as competition for beel. he’ll fuck you so good that you’ll scream his name loud enough for the bed squeaking to be a long–forgotten thought.
but tonight, you’re stuck bouncing on his cock, disguising your breathlessness as moans and doing your best to hide the pain in your thighs.
riding beel is a workout and a half and you wonder if that’s why he’s always keen to be on top, because he doesn’t want you getting tired, which evidently means you can last longer because right now you’re not sure how much longer you can go on for.
“pussy’s so tight,” he groans, enjoying the different position after so long.
at least one of us is having a good time, you think.
you struggle to find your own pleasure in all of your efforts, and it frustrates you further because you know beel’s cock is teasing all the right places. but instead of focusing on the growing pleasure in your belly, you’re distracted by the exhaustion that comes with fucking a man as huge as beel.
fucking such a big, brawny guy exhausts you as much as it turns you on.
even when you switch from bouncing up and down to grinding your pussy back and forth, it’s far too much work to please the big man.
you can’t take it anymore and you still, collapsing onto him with his cock filling you to the brim, and you both to groan loudly.
“i’m sorry, beel,” you gasp for air. “i can’t go on.”
his big, rough, calloused heads capture your face and he brushes your sweaty hair behind your ear. your face glows from the glaze but he realises how tired you are from your flushed cheeks and droopy eyelids.
“we can stop.” he says simply.
“nuh–uh. let’s keep going. but i’m done doing all the work.”
the corners of his lips rise teasingly and he kisses your cheek, muttering sweet praises into your skin.
“so my little cowgirl ain’t all big and bad like she said?”
“no,” you shake your head with pouty lips. “i need you to take over. please? i’m exhausted.”
“all ya had to do was ask, baby,” he swipes his cowboy hat from atop your head and places it in its rightful place atop his. “guess i’ll be taking this back.”
he effortlessly lifts you, holding you close to ensure his cock doesn’t slip from your pussy, and places you onto the mattress. the frame screeches louder as he ruts into you like he always does — with the energy and precision that makes your pussy quiver in seconds.
“fuck, beel!”
his cock runs along your walls and he grabs your legs, tucking his arms behind your knees as he leans down, folding you in half in the process. it’s his favourite position, having you and your pussy completely at his mercy.
with hips completely pressed together, he draws back and slams into your pussy. you scream his name as he continues to ram into you with beastly energy.
“gonna fill ya up, baby,” he thrusts and grunts simultaneously. “gonna stuff ya ‘till ya can’t take any more.”
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eloves-writes · 3 months
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How do you feel about Virgin!Reader x Coryo where reader wheres a purity ring and Coryo thinks it is adorable and one day she just hands it to him on a chain and he immediately gets the hint and is like “Are you sure?!?!”
anon i read this before i left for college this morning and have genuinely been kicking my feet and giggling ALL DAY.
mdni, 18+ content under the cut
you had worn your purity ring since the day you turned thirteen, vowing to stay pure until the ring was replaced by a wedding band. it had been easy throughout your teen years to maintain these vows, as none of the capitol boys were particularly alluring to you at all- until your first day at the university, when coriolanus snow arrived back from his peace-keeping summer in the districts. his hair had been buzzed and grown back out, his blond curls starting to return but he wasn’t the same man who mentored the songbird girl in the hunger games. he was dripping with ambition and a thirst for power, and it was attractive in a way that almost scared you. somehow, you had lucked out and gotten his attention, and by graduation your lives had intertwined in every way except one.
coriolanus didn’t mind waiting for you, because he knew that it would be worth it to be the only person who would ever touch you. sure, it was difficult at times when all he wanted to do was rip your clothes from your body and fuck you sensless, but he could wait. he was a patient man.
but you couldn’t wait any longer. your own fingers, though they felt sufficiently sinful, could only do so much. the thought of coriolanus between your thighs was not enough; you needed him to finally touch you. make you his. mark you in a way that couldn’t be covered and wear your purity ring around his neck as a trophy.
you mindlessly played with the gold chain between your fingers as you stood outside coriolanus’ study, drawing up the confidence to knock. it wasn’t that you were scared; just nervously excited in a way that was new to you.
“come in,” corio’s voice spoke from inside.
you opened the door tentatively, a subconscious smile on your face when you saw the man sat at his desk working away. “how did you know i was there?”
corio continued to write as he replied. “i could just sense your presence, my love.”
after a moment of silence, he put down his pen and looked up at you. “to what do i owe the pleasure darling?”
“i have a gift for you,” you responded, trying to sound normal as if you weren’t about to give yourself up to the man.
coriolanus narrowed his eyes at you in friendly suspicion. “you’re giving me a gift? how the tables turn.”
it was true that he liked to shower you with gifts, from bouquets of roses to dresses to intricately expensive jewellery.
you playfully rolled your eyes, walking over to his desk and placing the chain in his outstretched hand. he took a moment to inspect the necklace, delicately fingering the pendant.
he knew what it was in seconds. he had spent many hours over the last few years staring at your hands, this simple gold ring sitting pretty on your dainty fingers. and you were gifting it to him. which meant it was no longer on your dainty fingers, which could only mean one thing.
corio placed it on his desk and stood in front of you, a solemn expression on his face. “are you sure?”
it wasn’t how you had expected him to react. “yes, corio. i’m sure.”
he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing into your eyes with equal love and lust.
“thank god.”
suddenly, his mouth was on yours, and though you had kissed him many times before, there was a profound urgency now that ignited something deep inside of you, hotter and more fervid than you’d ever felt alone in your bed at night.
you were on your back on corio’s silk sheets, pleasure coarsing through your vains as he drove himself into your tight pussy. his pace was reserved as he tried not to overwhelm you, but you felt so fucking good that he thought himself a saint for not snapping his hips as fast and hard as he possibly could. the feeling of snow on top of you, your bare bodies pressed together as if you would die should you not be touching every inch of one another, his cock filling you and hitting your g spot with every thrust. your warm virgin cunt squeezing him tightly as if you were trying to hold him there forever. it was well worth the wait, losing yourself completely in his filthy, beautiful words. drunk with pleasure and corio and love and his mouth on your neck and his cum spilling inside of you.
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roosterforme · 11 months
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The Younger Kind Part 8 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is having a hard time trying to convince himself that being with you is wrong, but he plans another date anyway. You're floating on cloud nine after Saturday night, but you're quickly brought back down to earth the next time you see him. Lucky for you, Bradley more than makes up for his indiscretion at the end of the night.
Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4900 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
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Bradley was completely stunned, sitting on his living room couch with his soft cock hanging out of his jeans. He heard you start your car, and he saw your tail lights shine through the window blinds as you backed out of his driveway and drove away. 
After nearly a year of being touched by nobody but himself, you got him off so good, he still couldn't move ten minutes later.
"Holy shit," he whispered to his silent living room. You had just given him the best blowjob of his life. His entire life. Bradley had been with his fair share of women, gotten more head than he could keep track of. But you were the best. Hands down, the fucking best he had ever had. 
Maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd been with someone, but he tended to believe it was just you. He was so attracted to you, he should have known you would absolutely blow his mind like that. He should have known you would show up Amanda and Grace and Talia and become the only one he was thinking about. 
Then Bradley cradled his face in both of his hands. You had caught him ready to jerk off with your sweatshirt, moaning your name. How fucking embarrassing. And then you'd agreed to do him a favor and get him off. Your words echoed through his mind, "I can help you with that. If you want."
But you were unattainable. Off limits. The babysitter. Noah was so attached to you. When Nat found out, she was going to lose her mind. And probably not in a good way. Because Bradley was a thirty six year old man with a ridiculous crush on a woman twelve years younger than him. 
He forgot to pay you before you left. Oh god, how was he supposed to pay you after you sucked his cock for him? He was starting to feel worse and worse now. 
Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his phone and messaged back the first random woman who was trying to chat with him in the app. He'd set up another date. He'd set up a million more dates if he needed to. If he didn't get you out of his mind, he'd have to find a different babysitter and break Noah's heart. And probably his own as well.
------------------------
You were still giggly the next day. You couldn't stop thinking about Bradley. You'd given him a blowjob. He had been moaning your name! You wanted to do that again. Maybe he felt the same way about you that you did about him. Your heart was pounding. 
After several texts from Greyson, you decided to keep ignoring him. You had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on, and it didn't help that you knew how big Bradley's dick was and how he tasted. He was bigger and better than Greyson in every way. It wasn't making your day easier envisioning Bradley's eyes practically rolling into the back of his head while you sucked him off, but you indulged in the memories anyway.
The fact that you were masturbating to the thought of him cumming in your mouth when Bradley texted you on Sunday evening should have embarrassed you. But it did not. It made you feel even hotter for him. You really hoped this was him making the next move.
Any chance you're free to come over on Wednesday when you finish your classes?
You bit your lip and squealed, forcing yourself to wait more than five seconds before you texted him back. And when you did, it was with a giddy smile.
I can head over right after class, Daddy. See you on Wednesday.
He didn't end up writing back, but you knew he was busy. So you spent the week avoiding Greyson as much as you could. And when you saw Penny when you were out taking a walk, she waved you down.
"How are things working out with Bradley and Noah?" she asked you with a smile. 
Your mind returned to the velvet feel of his erection gliding over your tongue and the broken, raspy groans of his delicious orgasm.
"Oh, so far so good," you said before pressing your lips together. "Noah is the sweetest child in the world. And Bradley, well. He's actually kind of sweet too."
Penny just laughed and nodded her head. "He really is. When my bartenders found out he's dating again, they both lost their minds. I was thinking about trying to see if he was interested in going out with either of them."
Your heart suddenly felt like it was resting against your lungs, making it difficult to breathe. "Oh. Do they seem like his type?"
Penny laughed harder now. "Bradley's type is female."
Okay, that you did believe. Or rather, you believed any woman who was into guys would be into Bradley. As long as you were cool with Noah, the man was the total package. 
"He only has the most wonderful things to say about you, too," Penny added with a smile. "He said that even though you're so young, he knows he can trust you with Noah. And I don't think he would say that about very many people."
You couldn't decide if that was a compliment or a slight against your age. And when you drove to his house after your final class on Wednesday, you started to feel awkward. Neither of you had mentioned the fact that the last time you were here, you'd had his dick in your mouth. 
"Hi," you called out when you let yourself in, and Noah came running to greet you at the door. You scooped him up in a hug and started to carry him to the kitchen. "Where's your dad?"
Noah just kind of shrugged. "Getting dressed." When you set Noah down at the kitchen table, you immediately noticed a coffee cup sitting on the kitchen counter with Princess scrawled across it. 
You picked it up and took one sip of the French vanilla latte, and then you heard Bradley's voice. "Hey. Princess." You spun around with a bright smile on your face, but his expression had you immediately biting your lip and furrowing your brow. He looked confused and irritated and maybe a little sad. None of those expressions were right for his handsome face.
"Hi," you said softly, hoping you could make him smile. "What are your plans for tonight? Going to try to give me a sore throat again?"
His gaze dropped to the floor, and then you really took in what he was wearing. A nice shirt and chinos. He was going out. He hadn't invited you over to see you at all. 
"Um, actually," he muttered, but you cut him off.
"Actually, you're going on another date?" 
"Yeah." He nodded and briefly met your eyes. "Someone from the app."
He only needed to use you to get his rocks off so he could go out with someone else. God, you were so fucking stupid. He didn't want you at all. He probably thought of you as practically a child. And maybe he found you attractive enough to think filthy things about you, and allow you to suck his dick, but that was it. 
"Okay, have a great time," you said, setting the coffee cup down on the counter. You didn't want another sip. 
"Princess," he whispered, reaching out for you. But you managed to sidestep him as you sat down next to Noah and picked up a coloring book. 
"I hope she's as much fun for you as I was on Saturday night," you said, biting down hard on your lip to keep from screaming at him. 
You felt his presence behind you to the point you could almost feel the warmth of his body. But he didn't say anything, he just placed your coffee cup on the table in front of you, spinning it until the writing was facing you. 
"Thanks for the coffee. I hope you find what you're looking for tonight."
You heard him swallow hard, and then he kissed Noah's head, and then he was gone. And you were left to color some dinosaurs with the kid you wanted to spend all your time with. Too bad his dad was sending you so many mixed signals, you felt like crying. 
----------------------
Bradley felt like an asshole the entire time he was with Gabby. She seemed really sweet, but he couldn't stop thinking about what you said to him. As if you weren't what he was looking for. 
In all actuality, you really were not what he was looking for. But you seemed to be exactly what he wanted. But wanting someone and having long term compatibility were two completely different things. 
"So...." Gabby said for the third time. Bradley could barely focus on her or his dinner. "Tell me more about yourself, Bradley."
He started rambling on about work or some shit. He wasn't even really sure. This conversation was painful compared to the way you and he were together. Or at least the way you and he were before he started to fuck everything up between the two of you. The drunk kissing was bad enough, but the blowjob was just the nail in the coffin of the flirting with you that had him absolutely smitten in the first place. 
Now Gabby was saying something about her job, and he couldn't handle it anymore. "Gabby? Sorry, but I think I'm just too distracted for this tonight."
She glared at him across the table. "Yeah, I noticed. I don't care how handsome you are if you're going to be rude. Pull your head out of your ass next time you ask someone out."
"I'm sorry," he muttered as she stood up to leave, and not a minute later, the waiter arrived with both meals. 
He looked at Bradley cautiously. "Can you pack both of those to go? Please?" Bradley asked. He was going to have to leave this guy a hefty tip, but that was fine. 
He had barely been gone for an hour and a half, and that included driving to the far end of the city. When he pulled into his driveway, he grabbed both meals, and made sure he called out from the front door. "I'm back."
You popped around the corner with Noah in your arms, and Bradley's heart leapt. "You're early," you said in surprise. "We're just about to get in bed." Bradley could tell how tired Noah looked, but he could barely take his eyes off you. 
"Do you want to sing with us, daddy?" Noah asked with a yawn, and Bradley was of course drawn to the two of you like his life depended on it. 
"Of course, bub." A minute later, Bradley was watching you tuck his son into bed while you sang a ridiculous song about dinosaurs that sounded made up. But Noah knew all the words too, and you were both laughing. 
"Night, kiddo," you whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Then you slipped past Bradley without another look in his direction. When he gently reached for your hand, you yanked yourself free and kept walking.
Bradley quickly kissed Noah, and then he was following you into the kitchen where you were packing up Noah's art supplies without a word. There was an open bag of Skittles on the table next to some of your textbooks, and Bradley didn't want you packing those things up. They looked like they belonged there. 
He cleared his throat. "I brought dinner back for you. If you want it."
You laughed a little sarcastically. "I'm not eating another woman's leftovers, but thanks anyway, Bradley." You put your books into your tote bag, and Bradley took a step closer to you.
"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed for a beat. He wanted you, and at times like this, he felt like you wanted him, too. "It's not leftovers. My date bailed before the food came out."
Your stomach growled when he opened the takeout containers, and you rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'm starving." He let you pick between the two meals, and you chose the one he had ordered for himself. He didn't care, he'd eat his date's food. He could barely even remember what her name was at this point, because you were plating and microwaving the entrees like you lived here. 
"I'll just eat quickly, and then I'll be out of your hair," you told him, taking a bite of his filet mignon. Bradley settled down into the seat next to you. He wanted more than anything to talk with you, but he didn't know how. Not after what he let you do last time you were here. So he just took a few bites of food and watched you. 
"Your date bailed early? What did you do?" you asked between bites of steak. Bradley watched your eyes flash with mischief. "Does she know what you did to get those free coffees from the barista?"
Bradley chuckled and shook his head. 
"Oh my god, did you insult her after she told the waitress to hold the salad dressing?" you said, biting into your plush, glossy lip. Then your expression clouded a bit. "She didn't say something negative about Noah?"
Bradley scraped the last bite of his food onto his fork and finished eating. "No. Actually I didn't even get to mention Noah. And I have no idea if she ordered a salad. I can't even remember if I had a salad, Princess. I was so distracted all night."
"Why were you distracted?" you asked softly while Bradley took both plates to the sink. 
He reached into the refrigerator and opened a beer, drinking half of it while he decided what he wanted to say to you. You popped a red Skittle followed by two yellow ones into your mouth, and the movement of your jaw took him back to Saturday night. His cock hitting the back of your throat. His hands on your jaw and your face. Those pretty lips wrapped around his balls. 
"Princess," he groaned, and he watched you shove the last few Skittles into your mouth before jumping to your feet.
"Well, I'm going to head out," you said a bit breathlessly. "Oh, and thanks for dinner and for clarifying that these were not sloppy seconds."
Bradley set his beer on the counter and followed you out into his living room, your tote bag swaying along with your ass in your tiny shorts. "Fuck, Princess. Wait. Please?"
"What?" you asked, glancing back over your shoulder. 
Bradley reached out and ran his fingers along your cheek inhaling the scent of wildflowers. "My date bailed, because I was awful. I wasn't paying any attention to her. I can barely even remember what she looked like."
You turned to face him. "What was her name?"
He shook his head. "I can't fucking remember. All I can remember is you. Even when I'm not with you. That's why she hightailed it out of the restaurant."
You pressed your lips together, but you didn't back away when Bradley stepped into your personal space. "You've been thinking about me?" you asked in barely a whisper.
"Nonstop, Princess. And you wanna know about sloppy seconds? Anyone else ever gives me a blowjob, and I'll be thinking about you the entire time."
Your lips parted on a soft gasp. "Oh."
He nodded, stroking his thumb across your lips. "Best I ever had. I already couldn't stop thinking about you, and that just made it a hundred times worse."
"Bradley," you whispered, pressing yourself against him. He didn't move as you eased yourself up onto your toes and kissed him. You nibbled softly on his lips and sighed, then looked up at him like you felt the same way he did. 
It was so innocent, so fucking sweet. Or it would have been if Bradley wasn't wrapping both hands around your hips and licking the seam of your lips. You parted them immediately for him as your arms came up to wrap around his neck. Bradley tasted your tongue and grunted when he felt your fingers running through his hair.
He broke the kiss and let his hands slide down to palm your ass. "You taste like Skittles. I love Skittles."
You smiled up at him. "Sorry, I didn't save you any." Bradley planted his lips on the side of your neck and listened to you moan and dig your fingers in his hair. 
"I don't deserve any, remember?" he asked, rubbing his mustache below your ear. "I'm a peasant. You're the princess."
You made a soft sound that went right to Bradley's cock as you guided his lips back to yours. "Last time you kissed me, you were drunk," you whispered to him before mashing your lips against his. You were pushing him, walking him back toward the couch, and Bradley couldn't help but go where you wanted him to. 
He sat down a little hard against the cushions, his head tipped back to look up at you. "Yeah. I was kind of drunk. And that was a sin, because my memories are a little fuzzy. And you deserve to be remembered with crystal clarity, Princess."
"Do I?" you asked coyly, standing between his spread legs and clasping your hands in front of you. 
Bradley reached out with his right hand and ran his knuckles up and down your thigh. "Listen, Princess. Your lips wrapped around my cock will fuel my fantasies for years to come, but right now I want my mouth involved as much as possible."
You were instantly climbing into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing your mouth to his again. Bradley welcomed you back into his arms like you belonged there. You peppered some kisses to his lips and mustache before you pulled away from him a little bit with a smile. You were irresistible, and he was grinning right back at you. 
"Okay, go ahead," you told him, gripping his hair and tipping his head away from you. Bradley grunted as your little denim shorts rubbed against his pants creating some friction. "Try to kiss me better than you did after you were out drinking the other night. Because I thought it was pretty great, actually."
He let you tug his hair which was making him throb for you. "What do I get if I win?"
You moaned softly. "The satisfaction of a job well done?"
He shook his head. "Not good enough."
You laughed. "A pat on the back?"
"No," he said, stroking your cheek with his fingers and coaxing your lips closer to his. "I want a fifty percent share of all Skittles consumed in my house."
You gasped so theatrically, he laughed out loud. "That's scandalous. Twenty five percent, or I'm leaving," But you were inching closer and closer to him.
"Deal, Princess," he whispered against your lips, and now he found himself trying to outdo any kisses that came before you. It actually wasn't hard. You'd been his best the last time you were here. Now he wanted to be the best for you. He started off slow now, his fingers teasing along your cheeks and all over your neck. He knew his mustache was prickling along your lip, but you seemed to like it as you were grinding against him a little bit now.
Bradley made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure with his lips, always drawing you back to his kisses. The little sounds at the back of your throat were encouraging, as were your fingers which had dipped inside his shirt at the back of his neck.
He sucked gently on your bottom lip now as his hands found their way to your waist. He nibbled softly on your lip before releasing it, and he was so pleased to see he had kissed off all of your lipgloss. Now your lips just looked extra pouty, and your eyes were needy. 
"How am I doing so far?" he teased, kissing along your chin and your jaw, eventually letting his lips settle on the front of your neck. 
"You must really want those Skittles," you gasped, head tipped back as he worked his mouth against your soft skin. He sucked gently on you there, nearly thrusting against you as you rubbed yourself on him. "Oh!"
And then his hands were a little rougher, squeezing your hips and wrapping around the back of your neck. You leaned into him, clearly not afraid of what his body was demanding as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. He felt your hands on his chest and abs. He could feel your warmth against his cock as you rocked your body into his. He could feel your nipples, hard and rubbing his chest through too much fabric. 
"Princess?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours. 
"Yeah, okay," you said, gasping against his lips, kissing him between sentences. "You win. Twenty five percent of the Skittles. They are yours."
He kissed you, laughing against your lips. "That's really nice and all, baby. But I'd rather taste you right now?"
"Me?" you asked softly, putting a few inches between your mouth and his.
"I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?" he asked, stroking his index finger along the zipper of your shorts. He was gauging your reaction to him as you bit your lip and tried to squeeze your thighs together. 
"You want to go down on me?" you whispered, hands gasping along his abs.  
He nodded. "Real fucking bad, Princess."
You licked your swollen lips and whimpered. "Okay, Daddy."
-------------------------
Bradley had been so sweet, his brown eyes like something from your dreams. His lips and his hands were all over you, turning you on and making you so wet. But now he wanted to taste you? Find out if you were sweet?
As soon as you called him Daddy again, he had the front of your shorts open, and you were lying on the couch on your back with his big body over yours. 
A moan escaped your lips as soon as he eased his hand inside the front of your underwear and over your clit, and then his mouth was on yours, devouring you. You were making little noises against his lips as he stroked you just the way you liked to touch yourself. It was like he knew how crazy this would make you. And when his other hand ended up inside your shirt, pulling down your bra and stroking your nipples, you groaned his name. 
"You're soaking wet," he said, rubbing his mustache along your jaw in time with his fingers as they worked their way down toward your opening. He teased you like that until you were begging him for more, your fingers tangling wildly in his hair. 
"Please, please," you gasped, and then Bradley was sitting back a bit, his hard dick on display for you through his pants. He yanked your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them to the floor, followed by your lacy, white underwear. 
"Oh, fuck me," he groaned as he looked at you, bare for him from the waist down, except for your socks and sneakers which he left on. 
Then without hesitation, Bradley stroked his hands up the backs of your thighs, spread them wide and brought his mouth down to your pussy. He placed the softest kiss against you there, his mustache making you bite down on your lip in response to the sensation. 
"Bradley," you gasped, feeling your lower back arch off the couch as he ran his tongue from your opening all the way up to your clit in one glorious swipe. 
You should have been embarrassed by the way you were reacting to him. But he just looked up at you with his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently before he released you. "You're so sensitive, Princess," he grunted. And then he was running his nose through your wetness and kissing you everywhere. "And you taste so good."
This didn't feel like you expected it to; it felt so much better than that. Bradley's lips and mustache and his fingers and tongue. Everything he did had you gasping, crying out for more. 
"I got you," he promised, spreading your legs wider every time you tried to squeeze them against his head. You were writhing against the couch now, simultaneously trying to pull yourself away from his mouth and also rub your clit against his nose for more. 
"Oh god!" you groaned, loud enough that you should be concerned about waking up Noah. But you couldn't stop! Bradley was licking up and down your slit with sure movements and then sucking on your clit until you were practically in tears. Over and over again. Then Bradley was shoving his fingers inside you and kissing your clit before circling it with his thumb.
"You're getting loud, Princess," he whispered, guiding his body over top of yours again. You wrapped your legs around his hips when he kissed you with his wet lips and face. You were licking yourself off his lips when he asked, "You like how you taste? You're so sweet."
You could only whine in agreement as he pushed your shirt up and buried his face against your lace covered breasts. He kissed his way back down your body, and soon you were grinding against his face while he held your thighs. 
"Oh, god, oh!" you gasped when he was licking and sucking again. You closed your eyes tight as your legs started to shake. And then Bradley pumped his fingers into you a little slower and sucked on your clit with a little more pressure, and you felt yourself clenching hard. You rode his fingers with your feet planted on his shoulders, and he looked up at you like he owned you. 
"Daddy!" you cried out, enjoying what was quite obviously the longest and best orgasm of your life. 
"Call me Daddy again," he demanded before sealing his pretty lips around your clit once more and sucking.
"Daddy!" you groaned, pulsing around his fingers. And then everything felt wet. Really wet. And Bradley's face turned to an expression of awe. And his face was wet, too. You sat up and looked down your body to where his fingers were still rammed inside your pussy. But the couch was wet. "What happened?" you asked, but his lips were on yours, and he was pushing you back down again. 
"Princess," he groaned, still moving his fingers gently inside you, and now you were finally coming down fully from the peak of pleasure he had brought to your body. "Christ Almighty, baby. You're the sweetest fucking thing, aren't you?" He kept praising you, his lips all over your face. And when he finally withdrew his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, you helped him lick them clean. 
And then he was gaping down at you, stroking his knuckles along your cheek. "What happened?" you asked softly. You didn't think your body would ever recover fully enough for you to speak louder than this, but you didn't care. Everything felt too good. 
"You squirted for me," he replied, those big brown eyes roaming all over your face before he kissed you. 
Oh. You still felt wet. You had made a mess on his couch. You could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to," you whispered, suddenly feeling very shy.
"Was so hot," Bradley whispered next to your ear. "Princess." His lips on the shell of your ear and his hard cock pressing against your hip made you feel a little bolder. You tried to sit up, but he was huge on top of you.
"Do you want me to get you off?" you asked, reaching down toward him. But Bradley took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. 
"No. You've done plenty. You're a Princess, made to be worshipped." You settled back against the couch cushions and let him kiss along your neck until he had his fill.
-----------------------
Bradley helped you get dressed. Then he walked you to your car. Then he kissed you goodnight. And then he paid you for watching Noah which made him feel physically sick. You tried to push the money away, but he insisted. Then he went back inside into the bathroom and came hard after stroking himself three times to the thought of your pussy soaking his face. 
He was a mess. A literal fucking mess now. He sat down on the bathroom floor. He had no idea what to do. But then he laughed out loud when he remembered how his night started. He had been on a date with some random faceless woman earlier, but his night had ended with his own face buried in your pussy. 
This was not a good idea. None of this was a good idea. He needed to figure this the fuck out. 
------------------------
Nice work, Bradley. Amazing effort. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
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Text
Cat and Mouse
Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Female Reader
CW: modern!AU, PWP, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!reader if you squint
Word Count: 1.5K
A/N:  Filth. This is just filth. I was supposed to be writing for my long fic, been trying for days, but then this popped into my head and I wrote it in an hour and a half. pissed. Very NSFW. MDNI.
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There weren’t many things in life that Sanemi hadn’t tried at least once, but just a few things he kept himself away from intentionally. He liked to call it his “Don’t Even Think about it, Jackass” list.
He’d broken #3 (Always their place, never yours) on his fourth date with you.
The pair of you were leaving the bar as best you could with your hands skimming under his shirt and his mouth on your neck, spilling out into the alley he pressed you against the bricks, slipping his tongue into your mouth and his knee between your legs. You let out a needy moan that raised the hair on the back of his neck, made him gasp when you hiked your leg over his hip right there against the wall.
He knew then that he didn’t have the 20-minute commute to your apartment in him, catching the train would mean 25 at least. No way, not when his apartment was two blocks from the bar.
#2 went up in smoke two months into your relationship. He still thought he was an idiot for that. You were on birth control, sure, but shit happens. How dumb do you have to be to take chances on something like that?
Apparently, precisely as dumb as he was when his dick was inside you. Or rather, when you were begging for it inside you.
The first time had been your idea; early morning he’d woken you up with his head between your legs. You were sweating, gasping, grinding on his face, crying on his tongue as you came, and then you whined for more.
He knew what you were asking for. But the box of condoms in his drawer was empty-the note scrawled in his wallet the day before had been forgotten-and now he was bent over you, chin dripping, cock aching, and he had no choice but to groan, I’m out…Shit, m’sorry.
“No. No, baby, please…” you whined, gripping his shoulders, “fuck-I need you.”
“I know, I’m sorry—"
“Just do it like this,” Sanemi stared at you slack jawed from where you looked up at him all wide eyed and needy through your lashes. “Just…Just fuck me raw.”
That one little phrase snapped his resolve like a matchstick. He’d still pull out…Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal?
He was two hours late to work that morning-you both were-because after getting a taste of what your pussy felt like when he was bare inside you, he just couldn’t stop. Didn’t stop until you saw the clock and squealed that your manager would have your head if you missed another shift.
Trust me, he’d wanted to say, if that man knew what we were doing, he wouldn’t mind.
Condoms had been his best friends through many years. He swore by them. But now…Now he was convinced they were designed specifically to ruin sexual experiences. If he’d had any idea how mind-blowing a dripping wet pussy felt clenching around him, taking him in, he would’ve set fire to the factory years ago. From that day on he didn’t keep them in the apartment-wouldn’t use them unless you asked him to, which you never did-there’s something about feeling you like this, you’d said, I can feel your fucking veins, god, it’s warm, it’s…so much hotter. Makes me crazy.
But even after all that, #1, the very last hold onto his sanity, Sanemi was sure he would never break. He had self-control, dammit.
He’d been pulling double shifts, trying to earn some extra cash to help his little brother out, and you’d been in the mountains for some family reunion. Just as he walked through the door of your apartment-first time he’d seen you in weeks-you were working his belt off and toying with his tender balls in your hands.
His hair stuck sweaty to his forehead. Your thighs were shaking and burning from the way you were riding him; it wasn’t enough, no matter how you bounced on his cock it wasn’t enough.
“What’s that whine for, doll? Doin’ such a good job.” But when he opened his eyes and saw the way yours were tearing up, lip wobbling, he grinned, “Ohhh. You wanna take it, don’t you? Just wanna take it. Hands and knees for me, yeah?”
You folded yourself just like he asked, wiggling your hips back and forth until you felt his hands dig in and pull you back on him. The head of his cock caught against your hole and a shiver ran up your spine, you gasped, nearly crying with relief when he pushed inside.
“I know how to work this pussy better than anyone, huh? Make her drip for me, gush for me, cum-so-fuckin’-hard for me?”
Every thrust had you dizzy, brushing against that spot and sending your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You quaked under him, slurring affirmations as pleasure made your brain go foggy.
“Harder.”
“Goin’ pretty hard already, you sure?” You nodded your head as best you could with your cheek smushed into the mattress, and hummed approval, “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”
He changed the angle, plunged deeper, snapping his hips forward again and again, driving hard into you just like you asked. The force of his thrusts was scooting your body up the bed and pulling a constant stream of groans out of your mouth. When they changed to cries his eyes flashed to your face with concern. It didn’t look like he was hurting you, that was for damn sure. Judging by the sloppy, fucked-out grin on your face you’d never felt better.
“So close-N-Nemi, so close…”
His cock pulsed, throbbed inside of you and you squealed, arching your back into him even more and mewled something that changed his life. Something that told him you were so close to the edge that you’d say just about anything.
“Want you to cum…inside.”
What?” His rhythm faltered, “What did you say?”
You repeated yourself.
Fucking without a condom was one thing, but this…good god he’d never survive this. You didn’t mean it, wouldn’t still want it after you came your brains out, so he let the next words fall off his tongue anyway.
“You first, doll. Give you whatever you want, but you gotta cum for me first.”
His fingers found your clit and sent you crashing over the edge. He kept fucking you, kept swirling his fingers until you were a shaking mess under him. It was a shame you looked so pretty with tears spilling down your face.
The tremors in your cunt always made him gasp, made him fight the desire to pin you down and push himself impossibly deeper inside. You squared your knees and pushed yourself back on him instead, drawing a choked moan out of his mouth.
“Now, you said…” You panted as you switched your head to the other side, newly exposed cheek burning red from the way it’d been rubbed raw against the comforter, “You’d give me whatever I wanted, right?”
Your steady, half-lidded eyes met his and all of a sudden he felt like a mouse sitting stupidly in the corner with his stolen piece of cheese, seeing for the first time the cat that circled him.
“I want a piece of you, baby. Want you to fill me up.” You never talked like this. How did you make such a filthy request sound innocent?
You were serious. Christ on the cross you’d lost your mind. Or maybe he was losing his, the way your hips canted back into him ground his higher-level reasoning to a halt. Were his balls always this tight? This full?
“I can take it. Come on, give me what’s mine.”
At that, he slipped his leash.  
He bent over you, hand pressing hard on the back of your head, the other squeezing a red palm print into your hip. You were so soaked his cock kept slipping out as he fucked you, you whined at the loss each time but god you were so good, sitting pretty for him with your ass in the air. Asking him with lovely doe eyes for what he’d been dying to give you since he laid eyes on you.
His legs started shaking, knees going numb. He’d never cum so hard in his life – he wouldn’t have been shocked to see blood pouring out of his nose. Wouldn’t have stopped him either. Not a chance in hell.
When he finally peeled himself off your back, he saw your dopey grin had returned. You nuzzled into his chest, nose pressed into the white hair there, and sighed, full of you, baby.
He bent and pressed his lips to your hairline.
“God we’ve got to do that again.”
There was no going back, you both knew that. No way could he make himself pull out after this. But was it really such a bad thing? You were on the best birth control on the market-paid a pretty penny for it too-why not make sure you got your moneys worth?
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darnell-la · 4 months
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Do you cream or squirt?
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word count: 2.4k
pairing: sub!dom!steve harrington x nervous!reader x dom!eddie munson
note: please comment, like, repost and follow us for more. we’d also like if you guys could message us some ideas for our next book. we getting active!
WE DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANY COPIES OF THIS OR ANY OTHER OF OUR STORIES!
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3rd person pov
“Oh, I know you’re not talking about lasting long, Munson. Didn’t you just have a 10-second jerk-off session last week?” Y/n brought up a story he had told her and Steve a few days ago. 
“That doesn’t count! I was being edged,” Eddie said, remembering how hard that day was for him when they were all out at the mall. Thinking back on it only angers him. 
“By what? Magazines?” Y/n laughed with Steve as Eddie cliched his knuckles until they turned yellow. “Chill, it’s just a joke,” Steve said. “Jokes? Okay, well, how about you tell us about the day you creamed your pants when you know who showed up at the pool last year,” Eddie said. 
Y/n hasn’t heard of this story yet, and Steve planned to keep it that way. “Oh my god, because of who?” Y/n asked, really wanting to know who it was. She’s too nosy, and that nosiness is a lane she probably wouldn’t be able to process or handle. 
“Was it Nancy!?” She shouted, making Eddie laugh. “Oh, it sure wasn’t Nancy. It was someone way hotter than that,” Eddie locked eyes with Steve, trying to push Steve’s buttons since he constantly clowns Eddie with y/n. 
“It’s no one,” Steve said as he broke eye contact with Eddie and flopped back on Eddie’s beg, getting his head lightly against the headboards. Eddie and y/n laughed at Steve’s clumsiness. 
“Oh, cmon’ Steve! How bad did you cream your pants, that you don’t want to tell me? I’ve heard worse. Trust me,” y/n said. 
“How about you ask Eddie since he’s the 10-second man,” Steve said. “It’s not like he didn’t rub one off after,” Steve started getting personal, and y/n knew it. She loved this side of them. It was so fun. 
“Cmon’ bestie! Tell me about your 10-second mission. Don’t gotta be embarrassed,” y/n looked at Eddie as Steve chuckled in the background, knowing Eddie didn’t have the balls himself to tell her. 
“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie replied. “Oh, now it doesn’t matter!? That’s hilarious!” Steve laughed as y/n rolled her eyes. “C'mon’! It’s not that serious,” y/n needed to know. She hates not knowing things. 
“Hey, since you like these dirty secrets, how about you tell us yours, huh?” Eddie began getting defensive. “Like what, Eddie?” Y/n asked because her sex life has always been boring, and they know this. 
“Tell us if you cream or squirt,” Eddie fought back. Steve’s jaw dropped at the demand. He would love to know to make his fantasies more realistic, but having it asked so randomly, shocked him. 
“What? Fuck no! That’s different,” Y/n said. “No, it’s not. We’re all besties here, right? I tell you when I get my cock suck, and you can’t even tell me if you cream?” Eddie said, shocking y/n to the core. 
“It’s not important,” the young lady said, not wanting to tell them about herself like that. “Oh, now you don’t want to share secrets? C'mon’, tell me. It’s all fun and games after all, right?” Eddie said, locking eye contact. 
“I- I can’t just- Guys, I can’t just say things like that,” she said. “Why not? It’s not like we’re gonna judge you, ain’t that right Stevie?” Eddie asked Steve. “Yeah, of course not,” Steve said as y/n tried making herself comfortable on Eddie’s bed. Now she’s nervous and they can both tell. 
“Besides, whatever you say will be hot either way,” Eddie said, definitely shocking y/n. Yes, they all flirt, but during a time like this? She’s never experienced it. Ever. 
“C'mon, princess, it’s not that hard. Squirter or creamer?” Eddie asked as he shifted himself closer to Y/n, pressuring her to tell them and to make her feel a type of way. Maybe he can pull off what he’s been thinking about for a while now. 
“I- I uh, I cream a little but I call myself a squirter. I uh, I usually squirt a lot though. A little too much,” y/n nervously said. Eddie clapped his hands as Steve’s jaw dropped again. He can’t believe she told them. 
“Well, look at that. It wasn’t so hard, right?” Eddie asked as y/n nodded her head hesitantly. “Now, why have you been hiding such a thing from us, hm?” Eddie asked as he laid a finger on y/n’s thigh. 
“B-Because I didn’t think it was uh, it was something serious,” she replied. “Well, now you know, and you know not to keep any more secrets from us, right?” Eddie asked. “Y-Yes,” Y/n said. 
“Yes, what?” Eddie asked, shocking y/n all the way now. “What?” She asked. “Yes, what, y/n? You know what I want to hear,” Eddie said as his fingers trailed to her inner thighs. Steve stayed in the back in silence, growing hard at how nervous y/n was. 
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie. Like, what are we even doing right now?” Y/n said as she tried pulling Eddie’s hang away but he kept his position. 
“I think it’s pretty unfair how much you make us cum to only the thought of you when you could have been cumming on our cocks like you say you can,” Eddie said. 
“What!? Eddie, I- I don’t know what’s going on but-“ y/n tried saying. “I want you to show me how much that pussy comes,” Eddie began leaning over y/n. 
The girl leaned back, trying to avoid body touch until she realized she was leaning back into Steve. She went to get up, but Steve pulled her up close to him as Eddie got comfortable over her. 
“Don’t panic, sweetheart. We just wanna feel you, okay?” Steve whispered in the girl's ear. “Guys, wait! We can’t be- I can’t do this,” she said. “And why is that? Afraid you’re gonna soak my bed? It’s fine, doll face. I’ve wanted that for years,” Eddie said. 
The metal head made his movie and connected his lips to y/n’s. She instantly melted into the kiss as Steve snaked his hands around her and groped at her tits. 
“You like this, baby? Just say red if you don’t want this,” Steve said as he began touching the girl, eventually gathering himself to pull her shirt up and let her tits free, out of her bra. 
“S-Steve,” y/n moaned at the boy's pinch around her nipples. “I-I can’t guys. I just can’t,” the girl whined at this new feeling. No one has ever played with her tits like this. 
“Yes, you will,” Eddie pulled away from their kiss and began tugging at her skirt. “Wait- Wait, Eddie, you can’t- Wait, no, I don’t- Eddie,” y/n didn’t know what to say. 
“Ssh, doll face. Let me feel your cunt. You’ve been making me wait for so long,” Eddie slightly whined as he kept tugging at her clothes while he pulled his loose jeans and boxers down, just enough for his rock-hard cock to spring out. 
“Just look at him, y/n. He’s begging for it,” Eddie pouted, finally getting y/n’s skirt off. “Little panties? You were right earlier, Steve. They are pink,” Eddie looked up at Steve, already close to cumming, just by touching her nice-sized tits. 
“You know, you’re not so slick wearing all of this around us. Don’t tell me you're wearing this shit, not to be noticed by one of us and used. They’re just so — pretty,” Eddie traced a finger up along her clothed wet folds. 
“Never knew our bestie was a whore. You wanted us to stuff you, hm? Just tell me, princess. Tell me you’ve always wanted this,” Eddie began slowly pulling her panties to the side. 
“Fucking say it, or you’ll regret making me wait,” Eddie threatened as he ripped her panties clean off. “I’ve always wanted this!” Y/n cried out. Eddie saw a drop of bodily fluid leak from her cunt as she spoke. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t breathe,” Eddie said before making his way in between the girl's legs. “Eddie,” y/n said low, still not knowing if this was right. 
“Let him use you, sweetheart. Don’t wanna make us mad, right?” Steve asked as he pinched down harder on her nipples, making her cry no. “No!” She whined as her back arched. Eddie hadn’t even slipped in yet. 
“Now, let’s see if you were telling the truth. Don’t hold back on me, Angel,” he said before pushing at her entrance. Eddie pushed forward until he was completely in the whiny girl. 
“Wait!” Y/n cried out at the sudden feeling of being filled. She’s never felt so full in her life. “E-Eddie,” y/n gripped the long-haired boy's shoulders as Steve shifted his hips. Fuck, he’s close. 
“Too much,” y/n got out as Eddie pulled back, but thrust back in, to stretch her out enough before he did what he wanted with her. “Get used to it, or you’ll just be crying on my cock,” Eddie said, inches from her face as he pulled back out, then slammed right back into her wet hole. 
“P-Please!” Y/n begged as she felt herself soak his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck her. “Eds!” Y/n moaned as tears streamed down her face. “I’m so full,” he cried as Eddie smirked and Steve groaned in her ear. 
“When I tell you, she’s a tight one, Harrington. I fucking mean it. She’s sucking me in like a fucking fleshlight,” Eddie groaned as the sound of his balls slapping against y/n’s ass, filled the room. 
“Agh,” y/n’s eyes rolled and her head fell back. “A-A lot, Eds, a lot!” Y/n cried as she felt herself clinching around Eddie like she’s never done before to a cock. He can’t believe it. He can’t believe how dick drunk she’s been for him all this time. 
He let that thought sit in his mind as he picked his paste up to fuck her harder. Why did she keep this from them? All the times they’ve gone to the bathroom in public to rub one off, knowing she would have been so easy to get on her knees and suck them dry. 
“You’re in for it, y/n,” Eddie growled in her ear as he connected a free hand of his to her neck, tightly. “Eds! Eds!” Y/n cried in pain and pleasure as her walls clenched around his veiny cock before she finally exploded. 
“Eddie!” She moaned loud as her cunt released everything Steve and Eddie needed. Y/n’s head stayed back and eyes stayed fucked out as Steve still played with her tits and Eddie pumped into her like he’s never fucked before. 
“P-Please,” y/n begged for mercy as one hand reached up at Steve’s hair and the other to Eddie’s. “Please fuck me,” she begged, feeling another orgasm around the corner. 
“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned with a chuckle, as well as Steve as Eddie connected his last free hand to y/n’s waist. “You wanna take me now, baby? Wanna suck me fucking dry of my cum? What a fucking slut. I bet you made Steve cum already, hm?” Eddie asked as he looked behind y/n. 
Steve nodded his head fast with a whine, still grinding against y/n’s back like a starved sex slave. “Gonna fill this cunt up, baby. You have no fucking choice,” Eddie slightly moaned as his thrusts got sloppy. 
“Fucking hell, I — Baby, I- I’m cumming,” Eddie moaned in y/n ear, not noticing but tightening his grip on her neck and waist. She couldn’t complain though. Y/n loved the feeling of his grip on her neck. 
“Holly fuck!” Eddie whined as his hips bucked a few times. His cum leaked from the weak girl's hole as Steve dropped his head back onto the headboard. 
“Agh,” y/n moaned as she tightened around him again. This time he pulled out and let her squirt all over his lower body and bed. “Fuck, that’s a lot, baby,” Eddie groaned as he disconnected his hand from her waist and rubbed her folds, making sure everything comes out. 
“Mhm,” y/n shifted. She’s never been this overstimulated before, and they can tell. “You fucking like that?” Eddie leaned towards her face, hand still tight around her neck. “Should I fuck this pussy full again?” Eddie asked, but y/n couldn’t speak back. 
“I will,” Steve said. “Oh, shit,” Eddie chuckled as he got up. Steve moved from under y/n, showing how weak and limp she got. She still leaking her and Eddie’s cum. 
“You just lay there and look cute. I’ll do the work,” Steve moved y/n on the bed, the way he needed her as Eddie sat right next to her face. “Hey, I’m still hard. Put that pretty mouth to use,” Eddie looked down at y/n as she struggled to keep her eyes open. 
“Wait, wait. Baby, what color do you say when you need a break?” Eddie asked as Steve stroked himself in front of her entrance. “R-Red,” y/n slurred. “Should we go red?” Eddie asked, slightly worried. 
“No. I just wanna be fucked,” y/n said low as she looked up at Eddie. “Don’t worry, doll face. You will,” Eddie said right before Steve shoved his cock into her already wet and used cunt. 
As y/n moaned loudly, Eddie used that chance to push his tip into her mouth. “So fucking- oh my god,” Steve’s legs began to shake at the amazing feeling of his best friend's cunt so wet and tight around him. 
“That’s it, baby. Suck me up,” Eddie rubbed y/n cheek as he lazily thrust into her mouth. “You’re our personal whore, you understand? No more of these wacky links. You’re ours,” Eddie made rules. 
“And if you disobey anything we give you, princess, you’re fucking dead,” Steve said. “Understand?” Eddie asked, but y/n just looked up at him. She understands, but what will they do if she doesn’t comply. 
“One chance is all you get,” Steve said as he grabbed y/n’s legs and pushed them back, causing him to fuck into her cunt deeper at a new angle. “Fuuuck!” Y/n cried as the clapping and gagging noises in the room grew. 
“You’re so fucked,” Eddie chuckled as he leaned over a little bit to rub y/n’s sensitive bud. “Agh, no!” Y/n cried at the feeling of everything. Even Eddie’s cocky pushed further into her throat after he leaned over and Steve picked up his paste, causing her body to jolt back into Eddie’s cock. This is definitely all she wanted. 
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corruptedcaps · 3 months
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Brat App
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Ugh why did Mom have to marry the Dad of that bitch Alison?! As if being bullied at school isn’t enough now I have to get it at home too? I guess it’s not all bad though because I was able to hack into Alison’s phone and invite myself onto the exclusive ‘Brat App’ that Alison and her friends are all on. No idea what it is but with any luck I’ll find out some dirt on Alison to get her finally expelled so I can have some peace.
Hmmm this just looks to be some sort of social status game with challenges built on top. Every challenge has a ‘Brat’ value associated with it. So the more challenges a person does the higher up the leaderboard they climb and the higher up the rank. No big shock that Alison is sitting at the top as a level 10! Which gives her the rank of ‘Brat Queen’ which appropriate. By my calculations that would be…. nearly 10,000 points! Wow she must be addicted to this game. Looks like I got 1,000 bonus just for signing up and I can spend it on my little avatar of myself. Let’s see what I can buy. Sure why not, let’s improve her eyesight.…
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Holy crap what just happened? My body feels all tingly and different. My glasses are making my eyes blurry. Did… did this app just cure my eyesight? This is unbelievable! What else can it do… more athletic, long nails, thick hair, big boobs, perfect posture. It makes sense now! All these challenges are real life challenges! This is how Alison is the hottest most feared girl in school! Ok new plan, if I raise the ranks of this app, and surpass Alison’s score then she’ll have to listen to me and become nicer. How hard could it be? I’m already at level one after all and these challenges don’t seem that difficult….
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Bold makeup. Check. Revealing dress. Check. And that’s net me… let’s see here. 50 points? At this rate I’ll finish college before I have enough points! I need more bigger ticket items. Let me redeem these pathetic points at least. Mmmm nothing changed but it did give me a nice little tingle. Ok for 1000 points I need to… send some nudes?! Absolutely not! Alison hasn’t even done that! For another 1000 I need to suck a married cock? How vile! Ok this is more doable. Spread a vicious rumor about a classmate for 300. I could do that I guess. Hmmm I have to post it directly to the app so it can’t be about Alison or any of her friends. I know, I’ll say something about Lisa the unfortunate overweight girl in our class. She’ll never see it. I’ll say she was banned from Dairy Queen for breaking in and eating their whole stock. And send! Ohhhh somethings happening!
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Oh god my tits! They’ve gone up like two sizes! But why? Hmmm looks like I hit some hidden ‘Bitch Bonus’ by doing that challenge. This is amazing and all I had to do was make fun of that whale Lisa. I know it was mean but it feels so fucking good! She’ll be fine it’s not like anyone will believe it anyway. <ding> ohhh that felt nice, what was it? Oh one of Alison’s friends liked my post. <ding> mmmm another one of her friends liked my post! Every like is 10 points and feels so gooood! <ding> oh fuck yesss girls keep liking! It feels so hawt! Maybe I should spread a few more lies…
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Mmmm my body feels so much better in these clothes I redeemed! After only a few more rumors I got easily up to level 5, ‘Beta Bitch’, which unlocked my beautiful nails, my gorgeous silky hair, my perfect makeup, and all the knowledge to maintain them. Even my body is better shape, I’m so flexible now! Not to say anything about my lovely big tits! Alison’s friends seemed to really enjoy my wicked little rumours. I can’t deny it wasn’t fun writing them and it was even better getting the likes for them!
But I do feel kind of bad for all those losers I wrote stuff about though, I think the Brat App is effecting not just my body but my mind too. I feel so nasty and mean everytime I use it and even more now in this tight blouse and short skirt. I can’t help if I’m hotter than those dorks now! No that’s the app’s influence talking! I have to stop using the app, but I need to topple Alison! Ugh what do I do? <ding> what’s this? I’ve unlocked a new bonus. ‘Morality Suppression’? Hmmm that would solve my problems I guess and there is an option to turn it off later. Ok I’m going to do it! It’s for the good of the school after all. Here goes…
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Ohhhhh fuck yesss that sooo much better. Like hell this is for the good of the school this is for the good of me! I feel so fucking free now. To think I was feeling regret for those pathetic fattys and geeky nerds I was writing about! I only regret not writing more! The only people worth anything are my bratty followers who like my posts and even they need to know their place and they will when I surpass Alison and become the new Queen bee. Oh fuck I feel so horny being this bad! I need some release and quick! Mmmm maybe I can finally tick off some of these challenges old me was too much of a loser to attempt. Mmmm yesss those will raise my rank in no time! Oh I have the perfectly wicked idea that will make me a bratty goddess by the end of the day! Oh step daddy!
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Changed? Nonsense step daddy I’ve always looked like this. I’m a spoilt wicked little bitch just like your precious daughter, only you can fuck me. What’s the matter step daddy? Cat got your tongue? I bet you always wanted to fuck your mean little princess didn’t you? But you’re a good man and would never do that would you? But guess what? I’m not your daughter but I’m everything she is and more. Would you like a look under my shirt? Sure you would.
Hehe I see you like it step daddy. The outline of your cock is practically bursting out of your pants. Mmm and it looks so impressive. Let me have a peek <zip> oh step daddy, I can see why mommy married you. You’re so big! It’s making my mouth water. I need to have it step daddy, please say yes! I know you’re still hesitant so maybe it might convince you if I stopped calling you step daddy and instead called you… daddy. Mmm you like that don’t you… daddy? You want to put that big cock in my mouth and have my perfect pink lips suck it don’t you… daddy?
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Mmmm thanks daddy for the great fucking, you’ve helped me complete so many nasty challenges. Suck a married cock. Check. Fuck an older man. Check. Call him daddy. Mmmm double check. After everything we got up to I completed over a dozen challenges, more than enough to take you bitch of a daughter’s crown. I just have to redeem the points now and assume the throne…. Mmmm it feels so good but something different is happening… oh fuck something amazing is happening!
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Mmmm oh fuck yessss! Look at me, I’m a blonde busty bitch now! Im older and sexier and I feel so fucking nasty and hawt but how is this possible? Oh I see I unlocked a new challenge tree and a new rank. Mmmm ‘Homewrecker’ I love the sound of that! Who needs to be a bratty queen when I could be the wicked bitch that stole her daddy instead. Thats right darling, I’ve levelled up to being your mistress now and if you’re lucky and do as I say soon I’ll unlock ‘Trophy Wife’ and you can spoil me rotten as you should. Don’t worry I’ll still call you daddy, it makes everything feel so much more naughty. My mother? You mean that old crone Emma? She’s not my mother anymore, she not even my rival, she’s just an obstacle to our love, isn’t that right? Mmmm I knew you’d agree…. Daddy.
EPILOGUE
Alison was wondering what her father was doing that was taking so god damn long that he couldn’t have sent a car or something to pick her up from the mall like he promised. She had spent so much on his credit card that she was surrounded by high end boutique bags. Just when she was reaching her finally straw she got a message from him telling her he had sent a friend, some woman by the name of Gabrielle, to pick her up. Alison hadn’t heard of any Gabrielle before, except maybe her new dorky step sister but she went by Gabby anyway.
Following her father’s instructions to Gabrielle, Alison’s mouth was agape when she turned the corner to find a stunning blonde waiting for her. The blonde looked at Alison with distain and made Alison feel insignificant for the first time in her life. She didn’t like it. Gabrielle didn’t let up with her stare down, enjoying the way Alison averted her gaze. Alison meanwhile was grateful that their encounter was going to brief.
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“So you’re Ted’s daughter? Hmmm I expected somebody a little more… impressive.” Gabrielle said not willing to hide her distaste. If this was anyone else Alison would have ground them to dust with only a few choice words but she felt so intimidated as she got into the car with the blonde bitch.
So much so that her phone dinged to tell her she lost some Brat points for her weakness. She had never lost points before! Gabrielle smirked to herself as she looked at her own phone and saw her points climb. She couldn’t wait become a wicked step mother.
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