#bc to be fair .... she sort of already did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tremendum · 1 year

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fever

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.5k summary: but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with. warnings: SMUT. dubcon (sex pollen), age gap (not specified), use of the word ‘girl’, friends(ish) to lovers, canon-typical mentions of violence, needles/getting pricked by a plant, descriptions of canon-typical injuries, unprotected PiV sex, kinda rough, creampie, light cumplay, oral (f and m recieving), a fair amount of begging, dacryphilia, size kink, overstimulation, voyeur Joel if you squint just for a sec, facefucking, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, some spanking, choking, reader gets slapped on the cheek like once, dom!joel miller, spit kink, fingering, dirty talk/slight degradation if you squint, light praise, this is just basically porn with no plot, they’ve got feelings for each other but they’re in denial, ellie is in this in the beginning but doesn’t hear them thank GOD, notes: this is my first work for Joel and though I never finished the first game, the release of the TV series inspired me bc i am a SLU T for pedro lmao. this is terribly unedited because I just forgot i took edibles after i smoked and cranked this out in an hour and a half so sorry if it’s choppy or a bit ooc for joel. ALSO IF IM MISSING WARNINGS PLS MESSAGE ME

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"whose brilliant idea was this?"

you say it from behind Joel, the echo of your boots splashing through the tunnel as you look around you, your eyes sneaking to observe the width of his shoulders, the stretch of his shirt over the muscles.

Joel can't stop the twist of his lips as he grumbles back at you, "yours." he mutters, rolling his eyes.

his flashlight cuts through the darkness in front of you two, scaling over the walls that grow slimy with repeated dew and rainwater, algae sprawling over the pipes and reaching its fingers down towards your shoes. he doesn't like being down here, it's too quiet, damp, dark. perfect for cordyceps to grow.

you let out a soft, amused hum at his words that coaxes a bubble of irritation through Joel - you'd always been stubborn, from the day he'd first laid eyes on you; a young thing at the time, baring teeth you thought were sharp but really just looked like a little doe snapping its jaw at him.

it's been long enough with you around now that Joel knows you better than he's willing to admit, and maybe also knows himself than he would ever say out loud - because you're still that stubborn fireball of a woman and he's still the tired old man who you find amusing to tease. and he likes it, deep deep down.

"yeah, maybe just letting it go was the better option." you muse from behind him, voice still somehow dripping like honey though the sloshing of the sewer provided nothing but unpleasantries for the group of you. he turns to spare a glare at you; you were already smirking at him. setting him up, then lying in wait.

a damn minx.

he sighs, looking away: sure, he wants you, of course he does - you were spry, beautiful, intelligent, and resourceful. but you were stubborn, and butted heads with him more than rams did in mating season. still, there'd been too many lingering glances, suggestive phrases, and gentle caresses for it to be a coincidence. he could tell that when you watched him split wood or help teach you to shoot a gun that you were probably soaked through your panties, and that made him hard as a rock when he allowed himself to think about it once in a blue moon.

but that doesn't matter, because in a world that wasn't like this one - without the danger, pain, the necessities to survive - a girl like you would never bat a fucking eye at a man like him.

and he's got more important things to think about than how tight you'd feel around his cock, how well you'd take his orders with his hand around your throat.

but your words not only fall to his ears - from where Ellie hangs upside down from the storm drain, she snorts, "you spent that whole time back there arguing with him just to decide he was right?" she boasts. at this, you grab her arm, pretending to pull her down from above your head and into the storm drain with you and Joel. a splashing noise and a squeal echoes through the tunnel as your boots slosh; Joel turns back with irritation, about to snap at the two to keep quiet.

but you're grinning, eyes reaching his from where you stand, covered in storm drain water. Ellie's flipped upside-down, hanging from the ceiling with a grin of amusement, her arm slack in your grip.

your shirt is wet, slick against your plush skin around your stomach and breasts, your hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead and neck. slowly, you bend down to pick the axe out of the murky water, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you shake the water from its hilt. he has to tear his eyes away from the flash of the lacy underwear that peeks from the waistline of your jeans.

Joel's breathing is almost stutters - you’re a goddamn sight right now, and if the tightening in Joel's jeans meant anything, it's that he needed to look away.

"it doesn't matter. you got your axe, now we need to get out of here." he mutters, tired of letting you convince him to do asinine decisions like try and crawl into a storm drain to fetch the axe you'd accidentally dropped. your lips pull into a tight line and he ignores the twist of fire in his stomach at your gaze, the smirk as you try to conceal your laughter. it just irritates him even more.

he watches with sharp eyes as Ellie starts to pull you up and out of the drain; he's trained with a flashlight and his rifle pointed towards the depths beyond you, into the unknown area of the drain. your head is almost out of his sight when it happens: you twitch suddenly and let out a yelp, "fuck!" you hiss. Joel's rushing towards you, calling your name.

you groan, pulling yourself up with the aid of Ellie as you mutter, "'m fine Joel, something stung me."

stung you? he looks around, flashlight searching the area for any animal or insect or other threat - nothing. but when you're clear of the drain, obscured by the dilapidated road above his head, Joel hears Ellie let out an interested but disgusted noise. his gun goes first, then the flashlight. he pulls himself up and as he nearly breaches the light of the Earth, a sharp sting attaches to his thigh, coaxing a grunt of shock from his lips as he pulls himself fully out.

you're laying, soaked on the hot pavement, Ellie staring at you with wide eyes as you inspect your calf. there's a barb on it with spikes that look almost like a cactus of sorts, bright purple and speckled with yellow. Joel doesn't have to look down to see his own thigh impaled with the spokes of the same plant. he tilts his head back, hand scrubbing his face with a deep sigh. damn it.

"what is that?" Ellie asks, eyes wide as Joel quickly pulls out the plant from his flesh with the flannel he'd tied around his pack. "don't!" he chastises as your bare hands move towards the spoked on your calf, and your eyes soon shoot up to him. "did y'touch a plant down there? or anything?" he asks, trying to ensure this wasn't anything toxic or lethal, or god forbid, a mutation of the cordyceps.

but if it had been, there'd have been signs of it. pulsing, infecteds even - but this was a plant Joel has never seen before.

"obviously" you grunt, shooting him a glare, "I wouldn't fucking touch something growing if I didn't know it was safe." you snark. he knows you hate it when he treats you like a child - you've said as much to him before, and loudly - but he can't help the protectiveness he feels for you. your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, "but it shot out barbs towards me. I wasn't even close to it, you saw me." you defend.

Joel's throat clenches, his chest swimming with a warm feeling as the tingling sensation on his thigh lingers far after he'd pulled the barb from his jeans. he needed to get that thing out of you, too. you watch him as he pulls it out of your leg swiftly, Ellie sitting back on her haunches as she watches.

"we should clean these out." Joel decides, standing up and grabbing his gun and discarded flashlight, sending a glare down to the axe that sits glinting in the sun. just what he needs, another thorn in his side. literally.

the walk back to the house was much less exciting for you as it had been before the little romp with Joel in the sewer. the sun is hot beating down on your backs, and your dampness just exacerbates the mustiness of the storm drain's water soaking into your skin.

your calf is starting to vibrate, almost - although your heart twists with worry, you eye Joel's back and he seems fairly normal. so, you keep going, ignoring the heat that starts to consume you. your head aches by the time you round your last corner to get back.

Ellie's in her own world, kicking a rock as the house nears your sights: you'd landed here early this morning, some people who knew Joel before had lived here: they were gone now.

but it had beds, water that could be heated, and a collection of weapons and supplies stocked higher than your head.

so as you settle your things into the living room, you smile, digging into your pack to fish out the scraps of soap you'd saved, enough for several washes each of you were liberal with it. "so, who gets it first?" you say with a grin, unable to contain the excitement in your voice at the prospect of getting clean. Ellie jumps up, grinning with glee.

"dibs on going last!" she whistles, pulling a dry stare from both Joel and you. she shrugs, "what, don't want to be yelled at for takin' my time." she grumbles, flopping down on the couch, sofa releasing a plume of dust.

you lift a brow, "there's a second tub down here, isn't there?" you ask. Joel nods, eyes flickering to Ellie, "then you can take the tub down here. but only use a bit of hot water." he chides.

she rolls her eyes as he points a stern finger her way, swiping a piece of the soap you'd held out to her as she hauls her bag behind her, "relax, old man." she mutters, shaking her head as she disappears, "I'll let it run cold before I get out."

your eyes fall on to Joel, who sighs, nodding to the upstairs bathroom. "you go." he says dismissively. you chew on your lip, trying to figure a way out of taking the first bath: you needed to inspect this sting first. "no, i can wait. 's fine." you shrug, the feverish heat on your body not helping yourself to focus.

his hands run to the back of his neck, massaging a spot; your eyes are glued to the muscles that ripple from the movement, the long fingers thick and rough from a lifetime of hard work. you shudder, arousal pooling at the apex of your thighs easily. you swallow, embarrassed - why were you having such an odd reaction to this plant? it was making you feel fuzzy, feverish; the only thing you can focus on is Joel.

he shakes his head, "nonsense. ladies first." he insists, not meeting your eyes. you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, his abnormal attempt at chivalry - you laugh a bit. he glares at you, but there's no heat.

"since when have you been one for chivalry, Joel?" you ask, shaking your head with a smirk. it's sweet, because despite the horror of reality, there were still times when that charming Southern Man that Joel probably once was peeks through the cold, hard exterior.

rare but not unheard of were the times he'd hold a door open, or say ma'am - but it seems that all that remains of his past is that damn smooth accent and the broken watch he keeps on his wrist at all times.

he rolls his eyes but says nothing. his face looks red, and you almost bring up the pulsing at the site of that plant's needle; instead, you bite your tongue. you need a moment to analyze it, alone - and to get your thoughts straight, to - to not think about him.

"you can take first, Joel. I prefer my baths lukewarm, anyways." you joke, a fleeting touch on his arm.

your hand burns when you pull away and his eyes catch yours as if he felt it too. he must decide to not protest anymore as he nearly stumbles his way upstairs, disappearing into the master bathroom, his hands shaky as they take your soap from your grasp on the way.

Joel knew something was wrong immediately. the more he'd stood there, debating with you about who gets to fucking clean themselves first, the more he saw you, in a tub, fingers caressing yourself; the more real it felt, to see you touch your hardened buds, play with your tits, to hear you moan his name gently.

but his body was hot. he felt a fever like nothing he'd ever felt before, his mind going fuzzy as he'd stumbled into the bathroom, scrubbing his whole body from head to toe vigorously, as though whatever was happening would fade away if he'd just get clean.

the bath couldn't have been longer than seven minutes.

by the end of it, he was grunting into his shoulder to muffle the noise, his fist squeeing his cock tight as he fucks himself into it, the hot spurs of wanton need curling around his body, choking him. that god damned soap. it smelled like you.

he'd thrown it across the room, its pieces splintered across the ground as Joel bites back a groan of your name, the images of you, soft hands pumping him, slick mouth opening to take him inside- he cums over his chest in hot spurts, the guilt red and hot across his cheeks as the feeling snaps from his chest.

but the fever is still there when he blinks away the pleasured cloud of his orgasm.

and it's still there, burning hot like a snake of revenge in his body when he slams the door open, body still damp and quick to react to the fresh air of the upstairs bedroom.

he doesn't go back downstairs, not like this. not when the girl is down there, probably still in her own bath; he's still not sure what he's come down with, or if it could spread.

now, it’s your turn in the bathroom in the master bedroom - he'd beelined it for the office upstairs before calling for you and telling you it was your turn; he knew that something in him would snap if he were to see you while he was in this state.

but he should've gone back downstairs, because the moment he hears it, it's too late for him.

you're moaning.

it's almost clear as day; muffled through doors as you'd shut yourself from the rest of the house in the master bedroom, and Joel can't fucking unhear it.

he became painfully hard again mere minutes after his first orgasm and has been restraining himself for what can only have been the ten minutes you'd been bathing, but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine.

his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.

"fuck." he groans, surprised as it comes out much more breathy than intended, his whole body shuddering as his brain gets even more swarmed with thoughts - you, spread for him, or on your knees, or laying on the table, his cock shoved down your throat-

he hits the wall, hard. his fist stings but it's nothing in comparison to the burning need he feels swirling in his gut and his legs carry him until he's knocking on the door to the master bedroom frantically.

he calls your name, and a weak gasp is the only response. he tries again, and then your muffled voice calls, "fuck, Joel, that plant-" you cut yourself off with what Joel can only imagine is a moan of pain and pleasure. his cock twitches and he thinks he may pass out. staggering over to the bannister, Joel calls out for Ellie. she stomps over to peak her head up towards him expectantly.

he's shaking, sweat already sheening over his whole body. he's sure he looks like hell as he grips the landing under white knuckles, "Ellie, we're sick." he groans, "stay downstairs."

she calls back up, joking that she’s going to leave the house; but she doesn't sound sincere. he barely registers her laughter before she shuts the door, closing herself off to explore the downstairs house without Joel or you to protect her. he's momentarily glad she's not suspicious, instead is relieved to have her own time to herself.

but his cock is so hard he thinks he may pass out again, and he can hear you gasping out his name from behind the door to the bedroom and bathroom.

the door to the bedroom shuts and echoes through the empty upstairs as he tears through, chest heaving. you're still in the bathroom, gasping as your moans echo through the chamber.

he calls your name as he slumps against the door frame to the bathroom, the desire coursing through his body as he shakes with the feverous affects from the plant's venom.

he can't think straight, "I can't come in." he says, shaking his head as his forehead rests against the cool wood. you wail from inside, "Joel, please, I need- I need you, please I need help." you whimper. he can practically see you, the pleading look on your face pathetic as your brows tangle together, eyes shut in frustration. he knows you're touching yourself, and it makes his cock twitch.

"I can't." he says sternly, knowing that if he is to come through that door, there may be no stopping himself. he can't let that happen, not like this. "I'll- I'll be good, just- I can't, nothing's working." you whimper.

"not like this, darlin'." he's grunting through his teeth, but he feels so much desire that it's painful, like he'll die. anger courses through his chest as you let out a drawn out moan, low and full of need even through the wall that separates you.

"fuck you." you groan, "I hate you, Joel, never let me fuckin' have anything," your voice is strangled, a shuddering moan leaving your lips that sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire being. his hand finds his aching cock, slowly trying to relieve the painful desire that shoots through him with need.

he glares through the wall, "yeah, well, fuck you too." he spits back, anger coursing through him at your bratty exclaim of irritation for him - the one who kept you safe, who let you do what you wanted - who followed you into goddamn sewer drains to find the shit that you’d lost.

"walking around, flaunting that fuckin' ass at me." his words fall from his lips before he can stop himself, the desire and haze pulling it out of him as he twists his wrist around himself. "do you know what you do to me?" he nearly growls, "every time you open that mouth it's some shit. always gotta have somethin' to say to me, huh? make me wanna shut you up."

your moan is nearly a sob this time; it's raw, full of desire, and Joel could just about cum from that noise alone. his neck heats up with the knowledge that his words pushed you even further; he always knew you'd be a dirty little thing.

but he nearly falls over as the door to the bathroom rips open, catching himself with one arm on the doorframe, his cock still in his fist. his eyes find you on the ground, fully naked, on your goddamn hands and knees for him.

his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when you gasp, "Joel, we need to-" you swallow as though you were salivating at the sight of him above you, cock angry and flushed, "you have to fuck me, now."

he stares down at you, his whole entire body tremoring at the sight of you; your bare chest, nipples peaked at you suck in breaths, face flushed with desire and sweat, your own legs shaking terribly. your hands are glistening with your own juices. he lets out a moan.

"please," you try to get his attention again, squirming as though you're in just as much pain as he is, "please, just use me, I don't care, I want to taste you."

he shakes his head, "we-we aren't thinking straight... can't do this." he gasps, even his own words starting to sound absurd to himself. you shake your head actual tears welling up in your eyes, "I think about this all the time, Joel-" you moan, your hand slipping between your legs, the wet sounds sending streaks of desire through his body. “it’s not just the fucking plant, Joel, I need you.” you hum. his wrist hasn't stopped moving, he realizes, chasing that sweet fucking high as you stare at his cock with a wide, hungry glance, begging him to fuck you. he wonders if he’s just dreaming again.

"you know that I want this." you gasp out, tears nearly slipping from your lashline, "don't you?"

does he? how could you dare to ask that?

he groans, nodding, "shit, baby, shut the fuck up."

"you're a fucking asshole, Joel." you whine, "it hurts." you mutter, biting your lip with a ghost of a smile. that makes him snap. it hurts, and you're fucking enjoying it?

he grabs you roughly. the minute his skin touches yours it burns deliciously; he can't believe he had the control to not touch you this whole time. his moan is tandem with yours as his fingers thread through your hair, intending on lifting you to take you to the bed; your hands grip his thighs, though, and soon your hot, wet mouth finds the angry head of his cock.

you take him about halfway before you gag slightly and he slams his hand hard on the wall just above you; your eyes are fluttered shut, a tear squeezing out as your throat opens for him. he groans at the pleasure that courses through him, reaches his fingers, the nape of his neck. you're pulling on him desperately, and it makes him smirk down at you.

"what, you wan' me to fuck that pretty little mouth?" he mutters, heart thundering in his chest as his fingers shake with desire. you pull off him, gasping slightly for breath, your finger still touching yourself as you nod, a string of spit still connecting him to your lips, "yes." you say with a nod, falling back against the wall as he crowds over you.

he's not patient, not right now. he knows he could fuck your mouth until he was shooting his seed down your throat and you'd sit through it all with that pretty hair and grin and hell, you’d probably even thank him afterwards; but he doesn't have the time for that. he needs to be deep inside you, needs to be drowning in your cunt, needs to fuck you down into the mattress so hard you scream.

and you're desperate, clearly: you're two fingers deep, fucking yourself on your fingers as another tear trails down your cheek, breathless as you shift in near pain from need. he resists the urge to coo down at you, his thumb still swiping the tear from your cheek before he grabs you again, this time pulling you up and tugging you onto the bed.

you let out a moan of his name, your face flush with arousal as you spread your thighs open for him, watching with a pained expression as he pulls off his shirt and jeans, discarding his boxers as he goes. your eyes rake over him and you whimper, still not touching him until he gives you permission.

it makes him smirk, "for such a brat it's a wonder you're so obedient like this." he mutters, pulling your legs further open as he quickly stands with his legs against the edge of the bed, running his cock against your soaked, velvety cunt.

you whimper, jolting in pleasure as his head catches your sensitive, neglected nub and he smears his precum there, enthralled in the shapes your nails carve into his biceps as you gasp.

he can't pull his eyes away from your glistening center - how many times had you cum before he'd heard you? he swallows, the flames licking his belly as he pushes his head against your tight hole.

he grunts, you were so goddamn tight; your eyes widen as you try to move your hips, try to slide yourself onto his cock, but he stops you with a rough hand around your shoulder, pinning you down. "stop." he orders, leaning so he can spit down, the slick trailing down to settle right onto where his cock nestles against your entrance. you let out a strangled gasp at his actions, throat dry from your noises.

he doesn't give you time to beg, though, as he's slowly easing himself into you; you let out a yelp at the feeling, loud enough that Joel's hand clamps over your lips roughly, his breath hitting your face, "shut your damn mouth, girl."

you feel like you're splitting open as he inches in and it's barely just his head but you have never felt such excruciating bliss as now, your breath falling from your nostrils harshly as he eases himself into you.

you wonder how much he is restraining against just fucking hard into you - but you're tight after the orgasms you'd given yourself in the bath trying to satiate the feelings you'd figured out were from that fucking plant venom.

you don't even know if he'll fit all the way into you as he inches slowly in, taking a few grunting breaths before fully sheathing himself inside your hot pussy. you clamp around him, feeling full as he bites his lip, chest heaving, slick with sweat. his hand, still clamped over your mouth, tightens against you as he slowly starts to thrust; he reaches a part so deep in you that you nearly scream.

he's hitting your spot nearly immediately as he starts to quicken his pace, hips hitting against yours deeply. you moan his name, "Joel, fuck, 's so fucking deep." you gasp it, unable to think of anything but chasing the high that's been building since the second the plant's venom entered your system.

he doesn't seem to like when you start to move your hips, chasing his when he pulls away; his hand comes to your cheek in a quick smack, grabbing your attention immediately. you can't prevent the moan at the sensation, nor the way you clench tight around his cock.

the moan he lets out is half-way between your name and fuck, as he slides into you deeper, hand wrapped around your cheeks, training your eyes on his. there's a glint of something animal in his eyes: you're sure he sees the same thing in you, the venom of that plant coursing through the two of you, nearly palpable in the air of skin slapping skin.

your cunt flutters at the eye contact, the desire bringing you closer to the edge; his hands shoot to your shins, pulling them up to his chest and then he leans forward with a deep thrust, coaxing tears of pleasure from your eyes. "that's it, take it." he grunts into your hear, hips punctuating each thrust as his tip nudges that spongy spot inside you that curls your toes.

then one hand catches yours as you fist the sheets; he pulls your arm roughly down towards where he enters you as he bites the lobe of your ear. "you're going to cum." he tells you breathlessly, directing your hand towards your clit, pressing the pads of your fingers against it. you yelp in pleasure, more tears squeezing from ecstasy as you nod against his forehead, "yes, fuck, I'm gonna-gonna cum."

"that's right." he's deeper, "cum for me." he nearly whispers it, almost desperate. it's just what you need to push you over the edge: his hips angling in a way that has hot, searing pleasure coursing through you. you nearly go blind when you cum with a gasp of his name. his hips don't even stutter as he fucks you through your orgasm, the relief washing over you in waves of pleasure. you can't open your eyes, your chest heaving, arms locked on his biceps, hips quivering with the intensity of the feeling.

he keeps the roll of his hips as he slides easily through your ruined pussy, his brows pinched in pleasure.

"y'feel so good," you nearly go limp, your fourth orgasm drawn out by the touch of the man you couldn't ever stop thinking about. he's so deep inside you, you're surprised you can't feel him in your throat as he thrusts. "pretty girl," he mutters, pinching one of your nipples and sending shockwaves through you; the relief you'd felt from your orgasm, just like the previous ones, is soon washed away by the newly replaced desire, back again and somehow even more hungry.

you nearly cry at the thought, but something in you still yearns for it and you allow your ankles to cross around his hips. "never wanna leave this cunt." he mutters against your collarbone. you flutter again at his words, arousal slicking you, him, the sheets below you; the squelch of your juices fill the room as he chases his own high.

a particularly loud cry of pleasure lands you with his hand yet again over your mouth, but this time, you waste no time in pulling his fingers to your lips, sucking two of them in eagerly as your hand tries to wrap around his thick wrist.

his eyes meet yours and his jaw clenches as his hips stutter, nearing his own high. his fingers work quick; thrusting into your mouth, slick with your spit, gagging you as he bottoms out particularly roughly. your nails scrape down his back and you'd be more shocked if there weren't marks later.

a few more thrusts and you can tell he's close, so you pull his fingers out of your mouth to gasp, "please, cum in me, Joel," you whimper into his neck, biting down hard as he groans your name. his hand suddenly clasps around your throat, pushing you down against the mattress as he fucks into you deep, his eyes screwed shut, "don' say shit like that to me, darlin'."

but his thrusts are getting sloppier as you squeeze around him, luring him in, the intoxicating scent of soap and him and his musk surrounding your head. "please, I'll do anything." you whine, hand crawling up his neck to cradle his jaw. his dark eyes meet yours and he moans at how earnest you look, his hand tightening his grip around your throat and squeezing slightly, your airway constricted for a slight moment, causing you to gasp for air when he leans back.

your desire has you cloudily begging, pulling at his hair, his arms, his back, keeping him in, and finally he growls, "shut up." he snaps, "'m gonna cum in you, and you better be fuckin' good." he barely looks at you as he lightly slaps one of your tits, grabbing the other and pinching your hardened nipple as he watches your whole body bounce from the force of his thrusts. "god, you feel so good." he mutters to himself. you preen at the praise, your own high creeping near.

your lips are clamped shut, his hand holding your head down from your throat as you nearly scream, his thrusts slowing and sloppy. he lets out a delicious moan as he hits his high. "that's right, take me." he mutters, his chest shaking as he cums; he's moaning loud as he thrusts one last time, his seed coating your walls.

"fuck." he eases, his thumb falling to soothe over your hairline gently as he releases into you. "so good for me, aren't you?"

you swallow, the burning fire of desire still smoldering in your core, your tear trails long since dried, your body exhausted but full of energy. you nod, unable to trust your words.

he pumps into you slowly once more before pulling all the way out, the noise of your slick and his cum slippery as you feel empty without him filling you.

but he's already distracted, his eyes hazy as he watches a bit of his cum spill from your weeping hole, his thumb dropping to slide it back up and into you, pressing against your entrance, your breath catching.

"is it- is it gone for you?" he asks, his voice strained. you don't need to look down to see that the venom hasn't yet run its course through his system yet; his eyes are still alight with the same animalistic desire that you feel pounding in your heart. your feverish sweating, the headache - most of it's gone, replaced with an intense, destructive desire that has you keening into his hand as it cups your used pussy, his eyes teasing.

"no," you moan, "you?"

he's already dropping to his knees as he breathes out, "no."

your eyes widen. in your haze, you're searching for any relief for this growing arousal, the feelings you have for Joel driving you to beg endlessly for him, yet you hadn't expected him to do this. immediately, his hands wrap around your shaking thighs, his breath hitting your bare, throbbing pussy. you can't even think as you card your fingers back through his hair, hips jerking up away from his face as he licks a small stripe over her swollen clit.

you're so worked up that you can't help the tightening coil as he soon dives his tongue into you, cleaning up the mess you'd made between your thighs, swirling around your clit.

you tug hard at his hair's roots, hard enough he's sending a groan into you that reverberates through you, vibrating your chest as you clamp one hand over your lips.

fiery pleasure snakes through your body, your ankles falling over his shoulder onto his back as he eats you out like a staved man. you see his arm moving through your clouded vision and you let out a pathetic whimper as you realize the wet noises aren't just from his mouth on you: he's fucking his fist. his movements make your legs shake hard, eyes rolling back as he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue.

“Joel,” you mutter, his name the only thing that can come out of your mouth as you can’t help but grind down slightly. Joel's hands are hard on your hips; you know tomorrow as you pull on your jeans, you'll have ten fingerprints marked into you.

it sends a delicious swirl of pride through you as he moans into you, "you taste so good, darlin'.” he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to your heat. your eyes roll back again as one of his hands reaches up to grasp your tit, thumb and finger pinching and rolling as he fucks his tongue into you. one of his hands snakes up to your ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making you buck your hips against him.

“Joel, i-” you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, the overstimulating pressure making it increasingly harder to speak. your toes curl and head tilts back as his teeth graze over your clit, your thighs clenching shut as your orgasm nears violently quick.

"you gonna cum again?" he mutters, barely breaking away from you, his own hand moving fast as he fucks his fist; you yearn to feel him in your mouth, to taste him. “please, please.” you mutter, your hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at your clit and making you cry out. “please, make me cum, Joel.” you plead, tugging his head closer, his hand slapping your ass again.

and then you're clenching your thighs on either side of him and grinding down as you hit your peak, shaking in pleasure. you grind yourself onto his tongue as he drinks you in, cleaning you of every last drop, his thumb soothing over your hip. he rides you through your high, lapping at you and only pulling away when you go lax on the mattress, legs twitching, gasps ragged and scarce.

you'd have probably passed out right then and there if it hadn't been for his own strangled grunt, your eyes snapping back to him, to where his hand wraps around his own dick, slick with your cum and his own spit.

"Joel," you mumble, cheeks feeling hot as your mind starts to lift, desire yet again pooling between your thighs as you slide down, off the bed until your back hits it, hands caressing over his thighs, "let me taste you." you ask, cheek hot as it lays on his thigh, your eyes begging up at him.

he moans deeply as one had slides behind your neck, steadying you as his other grips himself, "stick out your tongue." his pupils are blown so wide you can only see black. you follow his order, sticking out your tongue as you eagerly lean towards his cock, his brows furrowing as he slaps your tongue with himself.

his hands tug you towards him, your lips tugging over him as you take him into your mouth, trying your best to look up at him. you gag around him as he thrusts his hips forward, your hands flying up to grip his thighs. "fuck, look at you," he moans, his grip tight against your head, slowly starting to fuck your throat, your eyes tearing up. "so eager for me, bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, hm?"

your face heats up as you hum, unable to say anything as he slides into you, tip pushing against your throat, your eyes rolling back. "yeah, you would. i know you think about it, darlin'. think about it all the time."

you should be embarrassed to learn that Joel had, under more sober circumstances, noticed how you acted around him. but instead you let the trail of spit slide down your chin and onto your bare breasts, your fingers pushing it over your hardened nipples as he pulls off your mouth.

you gasp for air, looking up at him with wet eyes. "get on the bed." he orders and you scramble with weak legs onto the mattress, staring at him, the familiarly torturous desire in you throbbing. his hands push you around until you're on your elbows and knees, his hand swatting your ass. "gonna cum on that pretty ass." he mutters, hand grabbing a handful of the plush skin as he spreads you open, "okay?"

"yes, yes, please." you mutter, face sweaty and stuck with your wet hair as he leans down, spitting onto your glistening, puffy cunt. you're nearly sobbing into the sheets as he slides into your wet, warm hole, his groans just as wrecked as you.

"jesus christ, girl." he mutters to himself as he starts to thrust into you, the new angle setting your whole body alight with the coiled pleasure. it builds fast until you feel like you're on fire, his hands rough against your hips, swatting your ass every time your hips pulled away from the overstimulation.

"you need to come." his breath is hot as it hits your cheek, his chest pressing to your back. he's deep into you, tip hitting your sweet spot with every rolling thrust of his hips. then slipping one hand onto the back of your neck, the other snaking to toy with your sensitive clit.

your legs nearly give out as your back arches, the orgasm crashing over you before you can even register it.

you can't see, blind with the bliss of pleasure; your thighs shake as he mutters dirty words into your ear, Joel's hips stuttering as you clamp and flutter around him, slickening yourself and his pubic hair, skin wet with your arousal. you're so sensitive you can't do anything but take his cock as he fucks you, deeper and slower as though he's coming down with the mind fog just as you.

when he hits his own mind-numbing orgasm, he's pulling out of you fast and finishing in hot spurts onto your ass, streaking up your lower back and sliding down into your quivering core.

your name is the only thing on his lips as he slowly slumps down onto the mattress next to you.

you both wait; it's silent besides your sniffling from the overstimulation and the soreness of your throat and Joel's labored breaths. you both wait to see if that torturous feeling comes back to your groins, suffocating and clouding your judgement.

but instead, the fog clears, and within five minutes of silence and stoicism, you're sure that whatever the venom was, it'd passed through your system. "Joel?" you whisper it, cracking slightly. you hear his head shift; he'd not looked at you at all. you're not sure you blame him, embarrassment creeping through your face. but not regret. definitely not regret.

he whispers your name back, and there's a vulnerability in it that has your eyes snapping to his, searching for the dilation of his pupils, any sign to show the venom was still in his system. you can't find any. "do you- is it gone? for you?"

he blinks at you once before nodding his head, "yes. n'you?" you nod at him, muttering a small, "yeah."

he knows he should go get a cloth to clean you up. he'd possibly have to help you up, help you dress... his throat dries as his now less foggy brain recovers the memories of moments ago; the size of your pupils blown out with lust. he looks over you; he'd ruined you.

another wave of self-doubt runs through him; you were not like him, you weren't bad like him. you deserve better.

but the way you stare at him now, as though you want nothing more than to do what you'd both just done every day with him...

he opens an arm, accepting you as you slide your limp, exhausted body against his own naked form, his arm squeezing you to his chest as he sighs deeply. you nuzzle your face into his neck, your own heart racing just as fast as his.

he feels like a damn fool - it'd been far too long for him, he's not sure how to approach these feelings he harbors for you, so he'd hidden them down with anger and irritation and eye rolls; but now he's gone and fucked you like you were just some other whore.

his lips press to your forehead. he doesn't think he can say anything, not right now. he still feels like he's got a fever, and by the looks of you, you feel it too.

so he hopes the kiss he tenderly lays on your hairline says what he can't: he's sorry he was rough with you. he hopes you're okay. he hopes you don't regret it. he hopes you know... he hopes you know it wasn't just about that damn plant’s venom.

he pulls away from you after just a moment, rising to tug on his boxers. but as he crosses the threshold into the bathroom to gather a washcloth for you, your soft voice stops him.

"Joel." you mutter, eyes nervous, exhausted. he stops, looking at you.

you're just as nervous as he looks; you're unsure how to interact with him now, the man you trust with your life, the one who acts like he hates you, the one you know probably loves you; and then you'd fucked him like he was just a dick, though you wish you could tell him: he's so much to you.

"that wasn't-" you're unsure how to convey it, "it wasn't just about the-whatever that plant was. I don't regret it. and I hope you don't either." you're glad it sounds as genuine as you feel when you say it. you want him to know he didn't hurt you. and you hope you didn't hurt him.

his face flashes with relief, with adoration. "I don't." he says, turning from you quickly.

and if his lips ghost over your knees and leave goosebumps on their wake, if his hands soothe gently over every budding bruise of his handprint on your hip; you don't mention it now.

if he gently and devotedly wipes you both clean, if your hands fold together as he settles back down against you, if your hearts beat together as you settle into the fever nap that claims you both; you just smile gently at his bashful grin.

and if your lips brush against each other just before the sleep takes you both; well, then you'll talk about it all later.

taglist: (message to be on joel miller taglist/regular tag list.)

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller x you #joel x reader smut #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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fadingsnow · 4 months

Text

𓆙 MODERN BF HEADCANNONS (AND BACKGROUND STORY) - LUCERYS VELARYON (aged up) x f! reader

summary and tw: having modern! au lucerys at your college as your boyfriend 😉, uh includes nsfw, edit: i just realized i put jacaerys velaryon tags bc this was going to be a fic for both of them sorry 😭😭 divider, credits : @cafekitsune 𓆙

LUCERYS:

- He first met you at school, while his friends were pushing him around for winning another rugby game. (Yes, he plays rugby.) Ben Stark had accidentally pushed him into the side, bumping into you. Lucerys yelled slightly, his body making contact with yours. You warily looked at him, you were friends with his aunt but you didn't really like associating yourself with the rest of the Targaryen family.

- He immediately picked up your books, trying to ignore the weird feeling he felt when your fingers brushed against his. "I'm so sorry-"

- "No, no, it's fine!" You gave him a tense smile, trying to flip over your bag so you could put your backs in. "You need help with that?" He asked, nervous at giving you a bad impression when he only just "met" you. You looked at your watch to see the time. 11:55- You had to go in 5 minutes to the class you and Lucerys shared.

- "Yeah, just hurry up though." You mumbled, your fingers picking at your nails under the awkwardness. He opened your backpack and took the books from your hand. Another touch of the hands. He zipped it up, patting your shoulder. "I would suggest for us to go now? Mr. Lannister might get on our asses." That led to you running with Lucerys to class, knocking on the door with flushed faces, more so you. He barely looked affected.

- Lucerys had sort of latched on to you then. You wondered if he just immediately classified you as a friend in his mind. Whenever there was duo projects, you could already hear familar footsteps coming up to your seat. "Are you going to help me do the work this time?" You raised one of your eyebrows, gesturing to your computers. He nodded carelessly, "But I get distracted!" "Yeah, cause you keep telling me random stuff. But, what happened with Aegon on the rugby team again?" You asked, making him ramble on about it. His hands moved around making gestures. You just placed your chin on your hand, your project long forgotten. At some point, he definitely noticed you staring. Not that he would tell you.

- You came over to his house to finish some other project, confused when his older brother Jacaerys snickered at Lucerys when he came in. He slapped his shoulder, "I'm glad you finally got to talk to your little crus-" He couldn't finish his sentence before Lucerys loudly interrupted him. "My room?" He asked you, your eyes widening a bit. You were really hoping neither of the brothers could see how potentially red your face was turning. "You're already moving up there, hey, I mean-" "Shut up, Jace." Lucerys' voice turned threatening, a small smirk forming. "Before I tell mom what you and Baela did when she was out on a business trip." "That's not fair!" Jacaerys yelled as Lucerys followed you up the stairs. You tried to ignore Lucerys' stare, burning into your back.

- He opened the door, letting you walk in first. "Uh, so floor or bed-" "I like you." He said, running his hand through his hair. You looked at him in shock, the room becoming silent. "I've liked you like a lot, and I'd feel really guilty if I didn't tell you." "Oh." You only said oh? He now started to regret why he even told you, of course you would reject him. He knew it.

- "Lucerys, I'm not sure if I'm exactly relationship material. But I like you back." You murmured, playing with your hands. You blushed when his hand came to grasp your face gently, feeling twists and turns in your stomach. "Well, we can figure it out? How about that?" You nodded, grinning when he brought you in for a warm embrace. You could feel his curls pressing against your own hair, his smell engulfing your senses. That was before he decided to slyly push you onto the floor, not taking any time to capture your lips.

- He is the BEST boyfriend. He puts the most effort into the relationship than anyone you've seen. He'd skip rugby practices just to hang out with you. Any girl come over to him to be his "partner" for something? Nope, he already chose you.

- Cuddles or affection. Lucerys is always reaching out for your hand or some form of touching you at any time of the day. He'll literally grab you infront of others and just press small kisses to your neck, no shame. His hand would travel down your back. And it has you weak on your knees to the point where you had to beg him to stop. You're coming over to his house? Up on the bed cuddling. He'd refuse to let go of you, only if you forced him too. He'd press his head against your chest, curls all over you with his legs over yours. He'd say incoherent things, almost always falling asleep when you're together.

- NSFW UNDER

- When it came to this subject at first, both you and Lucerys were immensely shy at the topic. But both of you wanted to get it over and done to be able to approach it well enough.

- The first time, both of you tried to make each other the most comfortable.

- He was especially gentle, soft kisses all over your body. He would rub soothing circles into your thigh, his hands slowly opening up your legs. Your heart beat rapidly when his fingers began to brush against your inner thighs. He was whispering High Valyrian, words you couldn't understand, and he pulled you against his body, pressing himself against you. He lowered his head to whisper in your ear, "Jaelan naejot qogralbar ao sīr quba." (I want to fuck you so bad.) You whined at not being able to know what he said and the sheer heat of his body. You could feel his hard cock pressing against the inside of your thighs. "Can I?" He asked quietly now, waiting for your response. You nodded quickly, sighing when his hands held your hips.

- He'd always press himself into you slowly, never wanting to go to fast. He also liked the look on your face when he didn't give you everything you wanted right there and then. When his tip hit your entrance, you moaned, biting your lip to hold back the tears. It was so much pressure. You let out ragged sounds of stolen breath when he finally let himself fully in. He pressed harder, moaning softly into your neck. That was the one thing you liked the most from him, hearing the sound in his throat.

- This motherfucker can eat pussy like a champ. He knew every inch of your wet core, teasing your clit with every movement, making you pant for air. He wouldn't let you have an orgasm, he would only increase the pressure, making you cry out with pleasure. His fingers kept digging into your skin, he would tease you just laying his tongue flat but not moving it at all.

- Essentially, Lucerys is the best boyfriend.

#hotd x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon fluff #lucerys velaryon x you #lucerys x you #lucerys x reader #king jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon

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strqyr · 5 months

Text

hold up.

burning the candle. yang says that while looking for answers re: why raven left, she found something; "what i thought was a clue that could lead me to answers, or maybe even my mother."

on screen, this is represented with young yang looking at a broken picture frame with a photo in it, then as her looking at the back of the photo.

this, somehow, leads her to the worn down house that has been taken over by grimm.

before, i thought this house might have been where tai and raven originally lived, hence why yang believed she might even find her mom there, buuuut thinking about it now... that's a really run down building; while the picture is heavily stylized, the door (or, where the door should be) and some of the windows look to be boarded up. this isn't just a "something bad happened here and the grimm took over and cause a mess", the place has been abandoned for a while, possibly longer than yang has even been alive.

there's also the question of why keep a photo of their old house when you've already moved into a new one, in a place where yang has easy access to it bc frankly, the way this is framed makes it look like yang sort of accidentally broke the frame and unexpectedly found something.

additionally, how did this photo—particularly what's written(?) behind it—lead yang to the house? was there an address? does patch have house addresses? yang said she must've walked for hours, would a 5-year-old yang even know which direction to take? "i had cuts and bruises," she says, which makes it sound like the house isn't in an area people particularly live in, or is well-maintained.

so what's up with this house, and what was written behind the seemingly unassuming photo that by itself didn't act as a clue?

who wrote it? where there directions written? why the (presumed) secrecy? what made yang think that this clue, whatever it was, might maybe lead her to raven?

what i'm trying to get here is... does this photo have something to do with summer's mission that raven was involved in? when raven left originally, did she just move little bit to the left and stayed on patch in this abandoned house? when summer went looking for her, did she sent directions to her whereabouts in secret, similarly to how raven "slipped" and gave qrow info about the tribe's location just as she also gave qrow a message to give to yang (family, only coming around when they need something, etc etc)? did one of them just have the brilliant idea that sending messages in secret like this was effective? did summer decide to write the directions down anyway bc holy fuck raven this place is hard to find but she also needed to keep it a secret from tai and qrow so behind a framed photo it is??

(in fairness, that's a classic hiding place.)

whatever the actual answer is, if this photo really has something to do with summer's mission and yang just happened to stumble upon it like hey??? i might just combust.

#rwby #summer rose #raven branwen #yang xiao long

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sl-ut · 1 year

Note

reader fell first but college!abby fell harder ? ❤️‍🩹

more college!abby

no bc yes absolutely she fucking did.

as discussed in other parts, y/n and abby already ran in similar social circles, so they already sort of knew each other without really knowing each other. well, at least y/n knew abby.

when y/n joined the cheer team, abby was junior captain of the women's varsity lacrosse team and was extremely popular amongst the athletics department of their school. she saw her around a lot, and when they were both practicing at the same time, it was difficult not to take notice of abby as she charged through her teammates with supernatural speed.

she wasn't a big partier, but she always made an effort to go. she would show up, chat with her teammates, have one drink, and then leave before midnight every time. y/n would be at the same parties, eyeing her from across the room and doing her best not to drool over her as she tried to make friends, always wanting to go talk to her but never being drunk enough by midnight to actually do it.

hell, she would have had dozens of opportunities to just go up and talk to her, but abby anderson wasn't someone that you could just go up and talk to. she wasn't someone who seemed like they would be mean, nor did y/n expect her to be, but she was super intimidating and didn't seem to be the kind of person who was looking for anything at the moment.

abby's dating history was a mystery. she hadn't been in a serious relationship since her senior year of high school, and the few people who she had hooked up with since then have been few and far between; they were normally people that she knew from the gym or from class, but none have stuck around long enough to actually become anything. she was still trying to figure out her type, to be completely honest. her last partner had been owen, and since then, she had been back and forth about what kind of attraction she felt towards men. aside from that, she genuinely hadn't felt like she had met someone who offered exactly what she needed. she wasn't entirely sure what she needed either, to be fair.

so for about a year, y/n fluttered her eyelashes and twirled her hair from a distance as she fought to muster up the courage to talk to her. she was beginning to give up hope when she befriended her teammate, nora, who also happened to be good friends with abby. now at parties, y/n had an actual excuse to go over there, and got nora to introduce them officially.

abby thought y/n was very pretty, though she wasn't sure that she was entirely her type. she'd noticed her before, eyes always scanning the length of her legs beneath the short little skirts she was always wearing. like i mentioned, abby usually only went out with people who were more similar to her, and y/n was almost the exact opposite.

the next time she saw her was at the campus coffee shop, and abby was the kind of person who just couldn't walk by someone she knew without saying hi. she had to admit that she felt a bit self-conscious at how startled y/n looked when she started talking to her, but quickly melted at the sound of her voice. she was so much nicer than she had always thought she would be, and genuinely very funny as well.

y/n got a text that night from nora, informing her that abby had asked for her number. y/n quickly typed out a cool, calm, and collected response before throwing her phone across the room and screaming in excitement. by the time that she had picked up her phone again, she already had a text from an unknown number.

from this point on, y/n no longer needed to make an effort to talk to abby, because abby was already seeking her out in crowds. if her own practice ended before y/n's, she would sit and watch; at parties, she would offer to get her drinks or to drive her home afterwards; she would text her and ask to grab coffee after class or to join her at the library. abby was quickly becoming obsessed with y/n in the best way possible, and couldn't help but always want to be near her.

movie nights at her apartment would also become a regular thing. it was the only time where she could actually get her alone. abby quickly grew to hate y/n's dormmate, finding her all too nosy and all too in love with y/n for personal taste, so spending time there was a no-go. y/n would be snuggled into her side with her head on her shoulder, abby's bulging bicep draped across the back of the couch behind her while she struggled to keep her eyes on the screen. abby kissed her for the first time during one of these little dates, and that's when she knew that she was down bad.

#abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson fic #college!abby anderson x reader #college!abby anderson

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atlabeth · 8 months

Text

between colleagues - anthony lockwood

part 2

summary: besides, what's a bit of fake dating between colleagues anyway?

a/n: i have missed him!!! there is just something so fun about writing for l&co and anthony specifically i truly love their world and i love him!! this was originally going to be the entire thing in one fic but i decided to post this on its own and test the waters with you all because i am TIREd of writing long fics. free me from my prison. this is literally my third fake-dating fic bc i never get tired of the trope but lmk if you want to see more

wc: 3.1k

warning(s): fem!reader, mentions of: canon typical job stuff, a child dying (mentioned in passing. literally half a line), and a good ol fashioned breakdown. but this is almost completely fluff bc that's all in the background

You groaned as Lockwood pushed the door open, working through the knot in your shoulder while you all walked inside. You tossed your rapier into the umbrella stand, not even bothered by the clatter, and began unbuckling your belt.

Winter was the worst season for ghost hunting. As if it weren’t already freezing enough dealing with Visitors and their effects, your most recent job was almost fully outside. You considered it a miracle hypothermia didn’t get you before any sort of ghost-touch.

“What are you groaning about?” Lockwood asked, glancing back at you. “I think tonight went rather well.”

He’d removed his jacket, and his white undershirt was dirt-stained and damp with sweat. Though he looked unaffected as ever on the surface, the quickened rise and fall of his chest said, in his own way, he was just as exhausted as the rest of you. You raised an eyebrow, but Lucy beat you to the punch.

“You think every night goes well if we come back alive,” she said wryly.

“It’s not the best measurement,” George added. He tilted the iron charm over the door back into place then set his bag on the floor. “Tonight was rough, Lockwood. Even by your ridiculous terms.”

Lockwood looked at you. “Anything you care to add?”

You grimaced as you rubbed your shoulder. “I’m never breaking down a door for you like this again.”

You did feel a bit like an action hero in the moment, but you regretted it soon after. Even more so when it didn’t even matter in the scheme of things—the source ended up being buried by the locked shed, not in the shed itself. At least you were now last in the rotation of opening suspicious doors.

“You offered to,” Lockwood defended.

“Because you said you would handle all the supply calls for the next week,” you said dryly. “And it looks like that may need to happen soon.” You held up your belt—once packed with salt bombs and magnesium flares, you’d emptied it completely trying to save all your lives. It was a sad sight.

He frowned. “Even the flares?”

“Even the flares,” you said.

“I’m all out of them too,” George said. “Surprised we didn’t start a full-on forest fire in the backyard.”

“I thought those would last longer.” Lockwood’s frown deepened. “They were quite expensive.”

“At least we got paid a fair bit,” Lucy said. “And we did indeed get away with our lives.”

“Barely,” George grumbled, kicking off his boots. He tossed his rapier haphazardly to the side, not even bothering to deposit it into your umbrella stand, and dropped his belt on the ground, still boasting a whole two remaining salt bombs. Your lip curled at the trail of chaos. “I’m going to bed. No one bother me for at least fifteen hours.”

Lucy smiled, shaking her head as he walked off. “Dramatic, but he’s got the right idea. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“See you, Luce,” Lockwood said.

“I’ll be quiet when I come in,” you assured, and she gave an appreciative nod. Lucy dropped a stack of envelopes on the kitchen table before she went upstairs—it was her job to pick up the mail, and you were honestly surprised she remembered after all this.

“You’re not mad at me,” Lockwood said, glancing at you as he went over to pick up the mail, “are you?”

“No,” you sighed, and you flopped onto the couch, “just dramatic. More so than George tonight.”

He chuckled and leaned against the counter, making deft work of the envelopes as he sorted them into piles. One for the never-ending junkmail that graced your door, and four others for each of you. “Good. I can never handle you being mad at me.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared up at the ceiling. “You’re off the hook this time, so don’t worry.”

“And I appreciate your mercy immensely,” he said. Another glance over at you. “You look exhausted. Are you sure you don’t want to turn in?”

You shook your head. “Our post-job detox is the most important part of all this. I can hold out for another hour.”

It was hardly a detox, but it had grown to become a necessity for you and Lockwood, sitting together and talking through everything in the wee hours of the night.

One extremely tough case left you reeling harder than usual—children always got to you, and the girl’s death was particularly grisly—and apparently, Lockwood could tell.

It took a couple days of gentle prodding, but one night, after being completely out of it in the archives with him that day, you broke—completely. Full on sobbing. Wholly embarrassing to do so in front of your boss, especially when he, George, and Lucy didn’t seem half as affected by it all.

It turned out he was just better at covering it all up—Lockwood understood it all a lot better than you thought. He just sat with you in the living room and talked with you, talked you through it. There was a lot of crying, a fair bit of permanently swearing off ghost-hunting, and more than a bit of hatred against the entirety of the United Kingdom.

By the end of it, though, after you’d cried yourself into a headache, gone through a quarter of a box of tissues, and actually worked out your problems with Lockwood’s help, you felt far better.

Lockwood thereby forbade you from holding in your feelings until they burst, and so it became a routine—it was cheaper than therapy, and most therapists, save for the few former agents working in the field, couldn’t understand it anyways. You usually slumped on the couch, Lockwood usually leaning against the counter. Sometimes with tea, often with tears, always with slightly morbid jokes.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?” Lockwood asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“It’ll heal,” you said. “It’s mostly just sore. I’ll stay away from my rapier for a few days, sleep on my other side for once, and everything’ll be fine.”

“Good.” The ruffling of paper stopped for a moment, and his voice was slightly sheepish when he spoke again. “Are you still up for that meeting with the Caldecotts tomorrow, then?”

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut. “Lockwood, it is three in the bloody morning. You scheduled the Caldecotts for eleven.”

“I didn’t know that this job would go on for so long!” he defended. “The last few have all wrapped up before midnight. It’s not my fault this Visitor was particularly elusive.”

“I am drenched in sweat, Lockwood,” you said. “Half of my coat is burnt from plasm and the other half is frozen solid. There is still dirt under my fingernails, my boots are covered in spiderwebs, and I haven’t slept in twenty-three hours. And you want me to be ready to deal with Lorena Caldecott, the most annoying woman I think I have ever met, in eight measly hours?”

“Yes,” he said brightly. That just got another groan out of you.

“They made you in a lab, Anthony Lockwood,” you mumbled. “That’s the only explanation for how you’re still going.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll phone them first thing tomorrow morning—well, later this morning, I suppose—and see if I can push it back another day.”

“And if not, you’re doing this on your own,” you said, finally opening your eyes again to see him walking over. He handed you your stack of mail—hardly a stack, really, only consisting of four envelopes—and smiled, irritatingly pretty even with smudges of dirt on his face. There was a reason he got away with so much, and that smile was half of it.

Lockwood said your name cloyingly. “Come on. You know I do interviews best when we’re together. You keep me on track.”

“I knocked down a door for you, Lockwood!” you proclaimed. “Is that not enough to get me out of this?”

“I took the supply calls,” he said, “and I’m pushing back the meeting. We’re even now.”

“Fine,” you said, extremely grudgingly. “But you’re getting them to push it back at least until tomorrow, because once my head hits the pillow, I don’t think I’ll be up for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Promise,” he said with a nod.

You sighed, finally righting yourself so you could look at your mail, and glanced up at Lockwood as you picked them up. “You get anything interesting?”

He shook his head. “Unless you consider a letter from Fittes begging me to buy the newest edition of their manual interesting.”

You hummed and looked back down at yours. You slipped your finger under the seal and tore it open, chuckling a bit when you took it out.

“How about you?” Lockwood asked.

“25% off my next Dorothy Perkins purchase,” you said, holding the coupon up. “Very thrilling.”

“Incredibly so,” he nodded. “When’s the last time you even got something from there?”

You huffed a laugh as you worked open the next envelope. “I bought a dress for my cousin’s graduation last year. Haven’t worn it since.”

“So doubly thrilling,” he said.

You’d opened your mouth to shoot back, but instead you frowned as you pulled an embossed card out. You skimmed through it quickly enough but got the meaning all the same.

“Huh,” you said. “My cousin is getting married.”

Lockwood raised an eyebrow. “Dorothy Perkins cousin?”

You shook your head, still frowning. “No. Maternal aunt’s son. Dorothy Perkins was paternal aunt’s son.”

“Ah,” he said dryly, “how could I have made such a mistake?”

You didn’t even have the energy to retort back as you stared at the letter. “I suppose I’ll need to pull out that dress again. It’s an invite.”

“Congratulations,” Lockwood said. “Are you going to need time off?”

“I don’t even know if I should go,” you mumbled, leaning your head against the side of the couch.

“Why wouldn’t you go?” he asked with a frown.

“Because I haven’t seen my family in a while,” you said, “and I haven’t seen this side of the family in an even longer while.”

Lockwood shrugged. “Then it’ll be a nice reunion.”

“Lockwood,” you said, “I’ve lied to them.”

“…Okay,” he said slowly. “About what?”

You winced. “They think I have a boyfriend.”

He still seemed lost. “Strange thing to lie about.”

“You don’t understand.” You sat up, putting the letter to the side. “My family’s from Liverpool, right? We’re all so busy that we never really have time to meet up, but I make it a point to call my mother a few times a month so she knows I’m still alive.”

Lockwood nodded. “Yeah, I know. You usually call her after every rough case.”

“Right. Because my mum hates my career,” you said. “I thought she was going to have a heart attack when I told her I’d scored my first job with Tendy’s. I thought she would actually pass away when I told her I quit Tendy’s for you.” You glanced at Lockwood. “She thinks you’re a lunatic, by the way.”

He shrugged. “Many do.”

You smiled and shook your head. “She hates that I’m an agent, but so long as I stay alive, she says she can deal with it. But she has a rule on our calls that I can’t talk about our jobs—says they give her nightmares. So instead, she talks about every facet of my personal life.”

Lockwood’s eyes finally flashed with understanding and he nodded. “Hence the boyfriend lie?”

“Hence the boyfriend lie,” you echoed. “She will not stop bothering me about it—apparently the dating life of her daughter is more important than anything else. So on our last call, I just lied and told her I had one to get her off of my back.”

Lockwood actually had the nerve to laugh. “And how did that work out for you?”

“It worked fine,” you said, “and it was going to continue to be fine. But then Will had to go out and get engaged, the dolt.”

“So just go on your own,” he suggested.

“I can’t show up alone,” you grumbled. “Not only would it be completely embarrassing, but the questions would start up all over again.”

“Then don’t go.”

“I can’t not go!” you exclaimed. “Will’s a lovely cousin.”

“You just called him a dolt,” Lockwood said.

“I call you a dolt all the time,” you said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”

Lockwood chuckled and shook his head, and that was when an idea came to you. There was a slight furrow in his brow when he glanced back at you.

“I don’t like that look.”

“Come to the wedding with me,” you said suddenly.

Lockwood’s expression sobered even further. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s the perfect solution!” you exclaimed, moving to the edge of the couch as you clasped your hands together.

“You want me to be your pretend boyfriend,” he deadpanned. When you nodded, he shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Why would I be joking?” you asked. “You’re quite possibly the best candidate for it all. We’re best friends, we know each other well— God, I’ve talked about you enough in general to my mum that she won’t even be surprised that it ended up being you.”

Lockwood’s eyebrows rose. “Won’t they look down on you dating your boss?”

“You’re hardly my boss,” you said.

“I pay your salary,” he said. “You live in my house. My name is on the door.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” you said. “Besides, you owe me after tonight!”

He frowned. “We just agreed that we were even.”

“Well, I lied,” you said. “My shoulder is in excruciating pain from knocking that door down, and the only way for it to heal is for you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

He gave you a wry look and said your name. “Come on. This is an awful idea.”

“It’s a brilliant idea,” you said. “You get a chance to dress up and charm an entire family—you live for that sort of stuff, Lockwood. I finally get my family off my back with some actual proof and I actually get a break for once.”

You saw the uncertainty on his face and you huffed. “Don’t give me that look. This is the exact sort of plan you’d come up with and try to force on me if it meant we’d get a hand up.”

“I know,” he said grudgingly, “that’s why I don’t like it. It’s dangerous when you start learning my tricks.”

“Please, Lockwood,” you begged. “I’ll do all your chores for the rest of the month. I’ll shake Lorena Caldecott’s hand with a smile on my face.”

“That is tempting,” he said wryly. “I can never fold my dress shirts the way you do.”

“Wrinkle-free dress shirts,” you said with a gesture. “And— and, I will cash in my favor with Arif. Discounted doughnuts for the next three months.”

Lockwood’s eyes widened. “You’ve got favors with Arif?”

You shrugged. “I helped him out a couple times with ghost things.”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You really are something.”

“Discounted doughnuts, Lockwood,” you continued. “Discounted doughnuts and wrinkle-free shirts and my best behavior for the Caldecotts, no matter how sleep-deprived I am.”

“…This really means a lot to you,” Lockwood said after a moment, “doesn’t it.”

You nodded. “My family— my mum—will never lay off if I show up alone. If you’re on my arm, you talk a bit about yourself and compliment me a few times and charm them with literal ghost stories, then I’m off the hook for good.”

Lockwood pursed his lips, his arms folded across his chest as he thought it through.

“Please,” you said. “It’ll just be one night.”

After another moment, he let out a sigh almost as dramatic as your earlier ones, but his lips quirked up at the corners.

“Fine,” Lockwood said. “I’ll go with you.”

Your eyes widened. “You will?”

“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “It— it’ll be fine—you’re right. We’ve been living together for the past year and a half—we know each other well enough to sell it. And with half the agency going out for it, I can write off any hotels or dinners as business expenses.”

That got a laugh out of you too, and you shook your head. “You are my savior, Lockwood. Truly.”

“Just means we’re back in your court on favors,” he joked. “And you know what? I think this could actually be fun.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he nodded. “Besides,” Lockwood smiled wryly at you as he stood up from his spot against the counter, “what’s a bit of fake dating between colleagues anyway?”

You huffed a laugh and finally managed to pull yourself back up into a sitting position. You cracked your neck and rubbed your shoulder, grimacing a bit at the soreness but thankful that it wasn’t worse. “Can we work out the rest of the details later? I’m exhausted, and I know you’ve got to be running on fumes.”

His smile softened and he nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Later today, I suppose.” He frowned as he looked at the clock. “God. It really is late.”

You hummed in agreement as you unlaced your boots, trying your best to avoid the spiderwebs when you took them off. That was your number one question about the Problem—why the hell did spiders have to gravitate towards ghosts?

“Get some sleep, Lockwood,” you said, setting your boots with everyone else’s shoes. That mess was an issue for another day. “You’ve got to be refreshed—those supply calls aren’t going to make themselves.”

Lockwood rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t completely bite back his smile. “Best behavior for the Caldecotts, love.”

“And nothing less!” you exclaimed without turning around, pointing in the air as you continued up the stairs. You heard Lockwood laugh behind you, and the sound brought out a smile of your own.

It was now nearly four in the bloody morning. Your shoulder still ached, your coat was beyond repair, and you would have to scrub beneath your nails for at least ten minutes before you settled in tonight. But somehow, Lockwood still had you smiling and feeling better about the whole experience.

For god’s sake, you fought ghosts on a daily basis. You’d been training with a rapier since the tender age of eight. Your skills rivaled some of Fittes’ and Rotwell’s best—who cared what your family had to say about you?

You were right. This wedding would be a piece of cake with Anthony Lockwood by your side.

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood & co #x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

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doukeshi-kun · 5 months

Note

did kolya ever dispose the bodies of alex and julia? (i cant remember if that was their names hehe its been a while...)

because i've been wondering if he got caught and arrested or he just ran off too, OR he just murdered the rest of the officer's? AND HOW DARE HE KISS ANOTHER WOMAN ? was it basically just a plan to get closer to the reader at the end. i got so many questions (im still not healed 😐)

ah i just really love any discussion about stalker!nikolai bcs i really love to hear thoughts and opinions and theories from you guys 😆

well, to answer, julia was 'disposed', sort of. she was, after all, mutilated and stuffed into garbage bags and the rests of her body were thrown at the back gate of the haunted fair—near the forest. alex, well... after y/n and nikolai ran away from the police, alex's corpse was being left on the road but a few police did find him and surround his body as our main couple ran away and had their conflict somewhere.

whether kolya got caught or got bailed or ran off, that's totally up to interpretation. is this an excuse that i don't have storyline for that? no! bcs i do have the real answer on how nikolai is still 'free' even after all that incident and why he kissed the woman.

and below this :readmore:, i'm telling briefly on what actually happened (from the writer's perspective lmao). but again, i did intentionally leave the details bcs i like to have my readers interpret the scenes however they want

so, firstly, whether nikolai does possess The Overcoat in this au does not matter. in my mind, he was caught up by the polices and there are already several implications that he has connection with fyodor still (based from ivan's scene). he complied with the authority while also depending on fyodor (or anyone you want, really... or perhaps himself) to help him with the proofs and accusations. so, yes, he was caught up and complied to the authorities. i believe nikolai is not a man who kill unnecessarily (alex is necessary lmao and julia... well, he killed her bcs she made y/n's life horrible. so she got that chop chop). as i believed he is such a man, i can't really see him murdering all the polices... especially after his funfair was raided, alex's corpse was left on the road near the fair, etc. the most logical way to do this is to play smart. and besides, in BSD universe itself, the polices are kinda weak and like.... how many fucking murderers roaming the BSD world😭 pretty sure nikolai can tweak the law and system easily, especially considering he was a secretary for the ministry of justice years ago.

but! like i said, you can freely think however you want him to escape or be free. he killed the polices? sure! he escaped thru his portal? yeay! he just get caught and spent 3 months in jail? okay! — after all, you are the reader.

secondly, yes, he kissed maya (i was hurted too writing that goddamn) and fortunately he rejected her offer to have sex because he is THAT loyal. and well, while he made out with maya purely to manipulate the poor lady emotionally to get to the reader, but hey :) at least he kissed you back thousands times more desperate and hungrier and passionate.

#i love the trilogy #and i got a lot of nice comments on ao3 :D #everytime people say that my fic is like a published book or smth along the line #my 11-years old self is very happy #道化師-says❃ུ۪ #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader

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sevsdollette · 8 months

Text

Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/124546213#workskin

content warning: still smut. (MDNI) they’re at the brothel this time. fingering, edging, strap on. bondage and like dub con, i guess? obviously reader is into it but Sevika just kinda does what she wants with her to teach her a lesson. brat taming.

summary: It seems like she’s not a customer anymore. Your night could’ve been peaceful, and surely your coworkers would be jealous of you taking their business.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

2. A Long Night at Work

note: this one’s fun. tell me why i cared enough about zaun currency to read a reddit post to learn about it. probably still got it wrong too bc i skimmed :/ still in love with her and trying to include more backstory. the reader is like very much based on my arcane oc because why not? it’s my writing i do what i want. also i just really like that story so i want to put it out there. anyway, this one is like just all smut. not much fluff, sorry, but the next one will have plenty of playful banter. hope you like :) (proofread? never heard of her)

—————— 18+ ——————

Life at Babette’s wasn’t nearly as bad as some could picture it. The job itself already gave you a place to sleep—a roof over your head. You were at a point where you were worth enough that only tolerable customers came through. Sure, you had your share of creeps, but most were clean and civilized.

Babette was like your family at this point. You’d been working for her since you turned 18. She had been promising you a job for years before that but wouldn’t allow it until you were old enough. The enforcers would take one look at a minor in her house and arrest her, even if you weren’t working. The day you turned 18, you got off the street.

The worst part was the enforcers. They would raid the place, looking for any drop of shimmer or illegal coins. Some were just trying to do their job. Others would pin you to the ground and cuff you if you blinked at one of them wrong. They’d have their fun teasing you, trashing your room “searching” for illegal activity, before spitting on you and leaving with nothing.

In another life, you were a fighter. In that life, you’d had your fair share of enforcer blood on your hands.

But in this one, you were already too beaten down to care.

Piltover had taken everything from you, much like it did to everyone else. You were one of the only workers that didn’t accept Topside clients. They could go fuck themselves; they didn’t need your help.

That was part of the reason fucking Sevika gratified you so much. It made you feel like you were really pissing off the enforcers, screwing the crime ring’s best fighter. You were helping her grow her forearm strength that night.

You hadn’t run into her since that night. It had been about a week and you’d been lying low. You never knew with those sorts of situations. People could always have ulterior motives. Besides, the lesser known brothel down the road had been raided a couple days ago and you were preparing for the day they came to you.

Sevika surely intrigued you. Given the chance, you would fuck her again, but you knew the likelihood of that. She was too important to hook up with the same person twice. She had every woman in the undercity at her disposal. You were just a whore.

—

The night was still young as you sat up after your last client. They were an excited couple that was much too interested in having a third.

Some of the party left a little disappointed.

In the end, the husband was just watching you take care of his wife. The idea made you chuckle even now.

On your bedside table was your payment. Five silver and two bronze. They didn’t tip well.

Your room at Babette’s was one of the largest there. Lavish curtains hung from the ceiling like it was a deep purple and black circus tent. Silver beading and faux gems hung around the banisters of your canopy bed. The lighting came from low lamps and dripping candles scattered around the room.

The bed, of course, was the centerpiece. It was even on a raised platform compared to the rest of the room. It was a large king with the softest silk a Zaunite could ever touch. There were secret hooks and straps hidden on the sides for easy access, and the bedside tables were packed full of toys.

Other than the bed, There was a small lounge sofa, a mirror, a long plush rug, and a swing. There were other small pieces of furniture around like cushion chairs and little tables, but nothing to be paid attention to.

You got used to your feet and walked down to the other half of the room. You approached the mirror, checking if they left any marks and if they messed up your makeup too badly.

Everything seemed good, and you checked the rest of you. You were wearing a tight black velvet corset with a straight neckline that pressed your chest up. It was part of an underwear set that connected to garters and thigh-high stockings. Your heels had been tossed somewhere around the room, and you didn’t care to find them.

On the coffee table beside the sofa was your mask, which you promptly slid back on. It was simple black and covered down to the tip of your nose. Thin silver laced the edges.

You fell onto the couch, lying across it like a luxurious woman and not an undercity whore. You had the glamor of a woman from Piltover but not the reputation.

You closed your eyes, taking this brief moment of silence. Of course, you could hear the distant sounds that came along with the job. Erotic noises came from nearly every room around, but they blended in after so many years of being there. Someone was always laughing, screaming, moaning, and weeping.

A moment later you rang a bell for the interns to come in and change your bedsheets. They did so quickly and left without saying a word. You were glad. They were a bitchy bunch trying to take your job. All because they thought they were hotter, prettier, or more skilled.

They weren’t.

Out in the hall you heard someone approaching in clicking heels. The curtains to your room slid open, and your coworker Zanira poked her head inside. Her eyes were wide, and she looked around for you somewhat frantically. “Babe, you’ve got a customer coming.”

“Okay.” Your brow furrowed at her. Usually there wasn’t an odd warning before a customer. They just walked on in. You blinked at Zanira. “Let them through?” You didn’t know how to respond in such a random interaction.

Zanira pursed her lips, obviously wanting to say something, but she just nodded and closed the curtain. Her heels clicked as she walked away, and heavy footsteps replaced hers. They were getting louder.

The curtains rustled, being pushed open for the large frame that entered.

A sly smile spread on your face as you watched her look around for you. When her dark, gray eyes met yours, you cooed, “Come back for more?”

When you heard her footsteps you assumed it was some ghastly man coming through for a quick fuck. This was a pleasant surprise. Though, whatever state she left you in would surely impact how the rest of your workday went.

Sevika pulled the curtains closed and clipped them shut. You followed every movement of hers, focusing on how her fingers flexed as she tied the curtains shut. “I heard you’re an expensive one,” she said, eyes sliding back over to meet yours.

You nodded proudly. “It takes a golden hex to get me to do anything.” It took you years to earn your reputation.

“Hm.” She looked over all your furniture, analyzing what the two of you had at your disposal. “What’ll you do for three?”

You smiled mockingly, cooing, “Fall in love with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I’m glad I only have two.”

You scoffed. You didn’t need her attitude if that’s all she was here to give. “What brings you here? My girl looked a little alarmed when she saw you coming through.”

Her brow creased and she turned fully to face your side of the room. “Am I not allowed to be here? I come all the time.”

“Yes, but you usually stay with the more… docile of our servers.”

She liked submissives. You’d heard their cries every now and then when you knew she was around. When you would speak to them and they’d mention her, they’d whisper with blush in their cheeks and a prudishness to their words.

You were no such doe.

“Come here and I'll show you why.”

You cocked one eyebrow. “I’m not moving until I see money.”

For just a moment, her strong demeanor faltered. Did she really expect you to crack like that? It was almost cute. She was disappointed. You weren’t like the easy sluts down the hall that listened to her every beck and call.

“What?” You pulled yourself up by the back of the sofa. You now sat across it like a model. It was enchanting and you knew it. “You think just because we hooked up at a bar that you don’t have to pay me?”

That was an off-the-clock fuck for fun. For actual pleasure. If she found you while you were in this room, she had to pay you. There was no premium pass just because of what happened in the back room of the Last Drop.

Though, you wanted her. Half of your brain said “so what? Whatever will happen will be worth much more than whatever she’ll pay you”. The way she stared down at you made you hot. She was there for one reason, and, hell, you wanted to make sure she got what she came for.

“You weren’t asking for payment the other night. Say, by the way you looked I doubt you even remembered what a hex looked like at the time.”

Images of what the two of you had done came flooding back (as if they ever left), and you pressed your thighs together slightly.

Still, curtly, you asked, “Is that so?” You faked a pout. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Your vulnerability is showing, Sevika. Don’t be so desperate, now.”

Her face hardened into stone, and she looked down at you with stern eyes. You would be lying if you didn’t say it excited you. This little game the two of you played was pure entertainment.

She stalked over to you and stopped when she stood above you. You stayed lying back, acting as cool as could be. She leaned down, placing one finger under your chin to tilt your face up to meet her eyes. She didn’t smile as she said, “You’re real cute when you act like you’re in charge.” She pointed across the room. “In bed. Now.”

A shallow breath fell from your lips and, yeah, just like she said, you couldn’t even remember what money was. You wanted her again—you needed her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Fuck, you’d make up the money some other way.

You stood up, slipping past her as she ran her hand down your back and watched you go. Her gaze was like glue to your backside, you could tell.

“And get rid of that fucking mask.”

You threw it to the floor.

You crawled into your bed, pushing the covers back and sitting up by the pillows. Across the room, Sevika walked over slowly, pretending to be interested in everything else in the room but you.

When she reached the bed, She stood at one of the banisters, leaning against it and crossing her arms.

“What’s wrong?” You cocked your head to the side. “Water too cold for you?”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” She gestured to all of you. “I want you to touch yourself.”

Her tone had you wishing you would listen to her. She did something to you no other fuck did. Just the way she raked her eyes down your body made you shiver. But you couldn’t let her know that.

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I’m not doing anything to you until you do, and if you don’t start listening to me when I tell you the first time, we’re going to have some problems.”

“Then I guess we have problems.” You stuck your bottom lip out, mocking her.

She sighed, raking her hand through her hair. She looked back down at you. “Come here.”

You crawled forward, stopping at the edge of the bed where she was and getting up on your knees to meet her eye level.

“Oh, but you’ll listen to me now?”

You smiled. “I choose what I want to do.”

“Yeah, alright.” She wrapped her hand around your throat. “I thought you learned your lesson last time. Now, I’m losing faith in you.”

She squeezed just tight enough to have you dizzy. You grasped her forearm, leveling yourself and she held you up just slightly. Excitement riddled your body and you felt yourself getting wet. You wondered how much longer until you broke.

“And, gods, you’re gonna have to stop talking,” she growled, getting close enough to your face that you could smell her.

“But—“

She pressed a metal finger to your lips. “No.”

You swallowed a boulder. Her grip on your neck was starting to have you see stars. It was heavenly. She leaned in, but flinched back when you tried to do the same. She held an ironic, menacing grin as she held you still and kissed you.

It felt like a wash of relief. As much as you were playing to cool, you wanted her so badly. Your panties were ruined and soon you would be too. The heat in your core was nearly unbearable.

Her hand squeezed just the slightest bit tighter around your throat and she had you gasping. You clawed at her forearm and she continued to kiss you, sliding her tongue beside yours. Instead of letting you win, she took one of your frantic hands and brought it down to your underwear, encouraging you.

The room was rocking and spinning around you. Sevika kept you wrapped in her kiss as your shaky hand slipped into your underwear and you dragged one finger through your folds.

A strangled moan ruptured your kiss. Sevika moved to kiss your cheek, jaw, and then your neck as your fingers began to circle your clit. The feelings together were the perfect mix, and you felt yourself relaxing into her touch. Despite this being only your second time together, she knew exactly where to drag her teeth to have you moaning into her ear.

She took her hand from your throat, caressing it down your body as her metal arm kept you firm in her grasp. You needed it. You kept a slow, torturous pace on yourself and it was starting to make you weak. You’d finish soon if you weren’t careful.

Sevika kissed down your neck and across your collar. Her arm hooked around your waist and reached for the laces of your corset. “How do I get this off of you?”

You could hardly think with your hand still massaging your clit. With your free hand, you reached behind yourself and felt around for the right tie.

She was impatient, taking her sharp metal finger and slicing through every row of laces.

“Sev!”

The corset fell off your front and she pushed it out from between the two of you. She stared down at your breast, taking one in her hand as she muttered, “I’ll get you a new one.” She rolled your nipple between her fingers, having you sigh. “Now, shut up.”

“You can’t make me—“

Her lips caught you in another kiss and she led you to lie down on your back. She moved you so the two of you were lying properly in the bed.

You could feel your orgasm coming. You rubbed your clit faster as she seemed distracted with your breast. She dragged her lips down your body and took one of your nipples in her mouth. She ran her teeth over the sensitive skin, sucking it into her mouth. The sensations of all your pleasures made you feel electrified and you could stop from moaning her name.

You were expecting a boring night. But this was anything but that. her figure over yours was enough alone to send you over the edge. Just to know that you were in her arms, being ordered around by her, being punished by her, was maddening. You felt dizzy even without her hand around your throat.

Just as you thought you were going to cum, she pulled your hand out of your panties.

“But…” Your eyes got lost in hers.

“You really don’t stop talking,” she grumbled. You watched as she leaned over and pulled one of the drawers of your nightstand open. Excitement fluttered in your stomach as you wondered what she was grabbing.

She came back with a cloth tie. She sat back between your legs, holding it up menacingly. “Maybe this’ll help you shut up.”

Before you could protest, she was wrapping it around your head and tying it tight enough that you couldn’t speak. The gag pressed into your mouth and you bit down on it with as much attitude as you could, glaring back at her.

“There,” she smiled. “So much prettier when you’re quiet.”

You spit curse at her through the cloth, only becoming more irritated as she nodded along mockingly. As if she could understand every gargled word. Her grin only widened with every nasty word.

Her coarse hands ran over your ribs, reaching around you to flip you over on your stomach. “Stay there.”

And before you could jerk your hands up to move or untie the cloth, she had your wrists pinned behind your back. They fit between the grasp of her calloused palm snugly and she held you still.

She was reaching over again, grabbing another tie to keep your wrists together. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you were more obedient.”

You lay there, completely at her disposal, as she picked up your hips and moved them where she wanted. You were on your knees, shoulders and face pressed into your sheets, and growing wetter by the second. Your clit still pulsed from your fingers, and you needed her to touch you.

Everything she did to you was different and electrifying. Hundreds of people came to visit you but none knew how to touch you like she did.

You turned your head to one side, craning your neck to see her behind you. She was pulling her shirt off and then her bra. It was an entrancing sight, watching the muscles in her shoulders and neck move to pull the clothes over her head. Her brow was tense with focus as she dropped her things off the side of the bed.

You looked at her bare figure, nearly moaning just at the sight of her. You needed to see her pants come off too, but she was done, looking back at you with a hooded stare. She was devouring you with her eyes. it sent a shiver up your spine.

She leaned over you, pressing her chest against your back as she pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. Her breath was hot against your bare neck, and the sound of her breathing so close to your ear made your core drip. She groaned as you pushed your ass up against her hips, her teeth biting down on the back of your shoulder.

Her hands ran down the sides of your torso, dragging her fingertips over your skin to make you shiver. Her hands rubbed the underside of your breasts, massaging your soft mounds.

She cupped your breast in her hands, pressing them against her palms as she pinched your nippled between her fingers. A sigh fell from you as you continued to grind your hips back against hers.

One hand moved down your front, toying with the edge of your panties as she bullied your nipple until it was sure to bruise.

“You don’t need these, do you?” She asked.

Before you could even try to respond, she was ripping through the fabric and pulling it off you. She discarded the tatters before slipping her hand back down and diving into your sensitive folds.

“Mm,” she hummed, collecting your slick on her fingers. “So fucking wet, and I was starting to worry you didn’t like me.”

The tips of her fingers began to push into your entrance, causing you to relax into the mattress as a moan slipped past your clenched teeth. Her two fingers curled inside of you, her palm rubbing your clit as she set a slow and burning pace.

The cool metal of her arm slid around your hip, guiding you to ride her fingers. She forced you to comply with her slow pace though you wanted to rest your finish so badly. With every curl of her fingers, she pressed hard against your most sensitive spot. Your soft walls tensed around her hand, dripping down her knuckles as she left a hickey on your upper back, right where your muscle met your neck.

It was hot and painfully slow how you rutted against her hand. A slow moan slipped from you as she tugged at your sore nipple once more. She rolled it in her fingertips, massaging your soft tissue as she rubbed your clot against the bone of her palm.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” she groaned. “Can’t believe I’m fucking a whore like you.”

A blush spread across your face as you whined, grinding your hips faster to try and get her to speed up. You cried her name with a demand to get her to do what you wanted, but it only came out as a string of muffled grumbles.

“What was that?” Her voice was laced with teasing pleasure. It was dripping with amusement. She pulled her fingers out a bit just to shove them back in harshly, having you suck in a hard breath. “You’ve got something in your mouth, babe. I can’t understand you.” She said it so plainly it was like you didn’t already know. Like you were just that fucking stupid.

She seemed to be taking pity on you, ravishing in the way you squirmed when she went faster. Her assault was unwavering as the pleasure spread throughout your body.

Heat shot to your head as you felt your orgasm coming. Your body was frantic, trying to grind and ride her hand just the way you needed to finish. Stray curses and moan were muted by the gag. The cloth was now soaked with your spit and drying out your tongue.

“What’s that?” She taunted, “You’re close, aren’t you?” Her gravelly voice right by your ear. You nodded quickly, face rubbing against the mattress as your eyes snapped open to look at her. The hair was falling out of her ponytail and curling over her forehead as she hovered behind you, close to your neck.

The constant rubbing of her fingers inside of you had you hardly hearing her. The room was filled with your strangled, muffled moans as all you could focus on was chasing your finish.

As quickly as you felt the orgasm coming, she pulled her fingers out of your soaked cunt. The sudden loss of sensation had you twisting under her, hard and angered words spat through the gag as you flared back at her.

“Hey—hey!” She gripped you by the hair on the back of your neck, tugging your face up to look her in her eyes. “Don’t be suck a fucking brat. You’ll get what you want, be patient.”

Your hair slipped through her fingers as she dropped your head back down onto the mattress. Your face smushed into the sheet as your lower half went cold. She moved off of you, once again reaching into your nightstand to find something else.

Your eyes widened as she pulled out a strap that was bigger than one that had ever been inside of you. That one was only for you to use on other people. You didn’t think it could fit in you.

Her name was butchered through the gag as you tried to get her attention. She was too busy pulling the harness over her hips to care about your worries.

Her pants had already been dropped to the floor, and you fought your hardest to break your wrists from the tie she’s put them in. You wanted to feel the strong hacks of her thighs. Her plain black underwear was low on her hips, revealing how far her deep purple scars went down her body.

“Sev…”

Her eyes flicked up to you. Her face was shadowed with lust. Even if you could tell her that would be too much, she wouldn’t listen. You could still see your juices on her two fingers as she walked back over to the bed, crawling behind you.

“I know,” she assured, rubbing your ass and hip. “You’ll be okay, baby. I know you can take it. You talk a lot of shit, but I see right through you. You like it when I treat you like this.”

Your fingers clenched as you tried to pull your wrists free. She only took it as an opportunity to reach down and kiss your knuckles gently. As if she was trying to be chivalrous and sweet.

A final snarky remark was spat into the gag, and this one was louder than the last. A sharp sting spread across your ass as she spanked you. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as she smacked you again, the pain tingling under your skin. It lingered as she adjusted behind you and began to rub her cock through your soaked folds.

The cold silicone made you shiver and whine into the mattress. She eased you into the feeling, but soon enough she was pressing the tip against your entrance. So covered in your slick, the tip pushed into your puffy pussy with more ease than you expected, but soon the stretch became painful.

A sharp cry broke through the gag as she continued to abuse your cunt. Every time you thought all of it was in you, she pushed just one inch more. Finally, the base of her cocker your entrance and you whimpered at the fullness. There was no more you could’ve fit if she tried. Your walls clenched around her and you pushed your hips into her to convince her to move.

Perhaps her teasing was over because she complied, pulling out and rocking back into you. She found a rhythm that you could keep up with, your thighs shaking and tensing as she thrust you again and again.

The tie around your wrists was beginning to strain the muscle in your shoulders and wrists. Your head pressed to the side made your neck crane and cramp as you were pushed harder into your bed. So fucked out, the pain was hardly noticed compared to the coursing, heated pleasure thy she sent through your core, all the way into your lower belly.

You would’ve stayed there forever. The bed creaked with every thrust of her hips, hitting against the wall as she muttered a mix of cruel and sweet saying to you to coax you along.

At some moment, she moved behind you slightly and slowed her pace. Your worries grew and you thought she was denying you your finish again, but she soon began her cruel humping again.

“Here, sweetheart,” she cooed, leaning down so you could see her. In her hand were her two hexes. “Take it.”

You glared up at her, wrists writhing in their tie.

“Come on,” she urged, holding her hand closer to your face so you could really see the money she was going to give you. “You can’t have it unless you take it from me.”

She jerked her hips into you harder, making the strap shove further into your cunt. She had you groaning, face smushed further into your pillow.

Through the bag came a muffled “fuck you”, and she frowned at you pitifully. She shrugged, moving out of your gaze and dropping the coins somewhere on her clothes.

She thrust roughly into you again. “I think you should just give up on this bratty act. I like you a lot more when you’re broken and fucked out underneath me.”

Sure, she was talking to you, but you weren’t listening. One of her hands had snaked down to your front and was rubbing tight circles around your clit. Together, her stimulation and rutting was quickly driving you to your finish.

If you could talk, you would beg. The pleasure was too overwhelming for you to come up with any bite. You needed to cum. You needed her to take you there.

Your peak was approaching fast. and she could tell from the way your hips pushed back into her more sloppily than before. It was a frantic attempt to finish before she could stop you.

“Come on, baby girl, you can cum.”

That was all you needed, her deep voice pushing you over the she as you keened, going limp into the bed as your orgasm shot through you. It came in heated waves that had you crying for her.

She was kind and slowed with your finish. The ribbed sides of the dildo beginning to burn as she slowly pushed in once more time. Then, she pulled out, rubbing the muscle in your shoulder as she sighed.

Her hand slipped up to undo the gag at the back of your head. Your limp body had her pulling the cloth out from under the other side of your head as you spat it out of your mouth.

A thick breath heaved from your lungs as you licked your dry lips. “Give me a break.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

Your nose wrinkled. With the nastiest, most disrespectful tone you could, you spat out a “please”.

She shook her head, smiling to herself. “Okay, baby, I’ll give you a break while I untie you.”

“What if I run?” You hissed. She loosened the tie around your wrists, and you immediately pulled your hands free, rolling your wrists as you pushed yourself up onto shaky arms.

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” she said, helping you roll over onto your back.

You stared up at her, the hair sticking to her forehead, her chest rising with her heavy breaths, and the imprint of a wet spot on her underwear. The sheen on her broad shoulders and biceps was entrancing as you were lost in the sight of her as she leaned down to kiss you softly.

Her hot tongue slipped against yours as you whined against her lips, cradling her face in your hands. She rubbed her palms down your hips, adjusting your legs and spreading your thighs as she brushed the sticky strap against your core again.

A weak sigh slid between your mouths as you braced yourself to take her again. You were sore, but as the dildo rubbed against your clit, you were alight with arousal once more.

She frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’m not done ruining you, sweetheart. I want to see you cry on my cock.”

She sunk deep back into you, having you a heaving mess under her. “Now,” she began. “Do you think you can stay quiet without this?” She held up the gag, looking down at you with an expectant gaze.

You let out a heavy breath. As it fell out of you, you realized she’d won. You were too tired and fucked out to bite back. All you wanted now was for her to take care of you. You’d do anything to keep her here with you.

“Good girl.” She rubbed her thumb across your cheek. “See? You can behave.”

She pulled out just enough to ram back in. Your mind was lost in the heat of her. You were ready to beg if need be. You just couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of her fucking into you.

Your hands, still sore from the tie, pressed against her collar and chest. Her skin was softer than expected, and slick with her sweat. You reached between your bodies and cupped her soft breast, massaging it gently. She moaned into your skin, rutting into you so the strap stimulated her clit just as much as she pleasured you.

You were so full, her cock so thick as she rubbed the ribbed sides against your abused walls. You wrapped your legs around her, pulling her closer as you ran your hands through her hair.

Her lips met yours in another heated, hungry kiss. She was nearly desperate, spit mixing with yours as she thrust harder and you whined against her mouth. Her teeth nipped at your bottom lip. She rested on one elbow, hand threading through your hair as her metal fingers gripped your thigh to keep you tight against her.

She wasn’t focused on your pleasure, humping against you just so she could feel the strap rub against her clit and get her off. She used you as a fucktoy to reach her climax, being ceaseless in her own pace.

The idea of it made you feel close regardless. The fact that you were her’s and she used you however she wanted had warmth spreading through your core and sparking to your clit.

Your eyes began to sting as tears built at the edges. It was a flood of sensations that had you moaning and crying out as she kissed you again.

“You’re okay, sweet girl. You look so beautiful right now.”

She bit down on your neck so hard you were worried she’d draw blood. Your makeup was running down your face as tears collected in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. You tugged at her hair, having her moan against your skin.

You met her hips, trying to persuade her rhythm to please you, but she only pushed your hips down harder. “Stay still, baby, I’m close,” she groaned. Her incessant thrust only hurt, smacking against your cervix as she chased her high.

Another wave of arousal rolled through your body as her chest pressed against yours, her nipples pressed into your skin and breasts. It didn’t take much longer before she became a mess above you, moaning loudly in your ear as she jumped her cock into you quickly to satisfy her finish.

Stray whispers of praise fell from her lips as she continued to thrust into you, wanting to see you cum and you were close. Shivers shot down your spine as she dragged her lips across your jaw, and your orgasm came on suddenly, having you shake and your vision go white. You screamed, nails digging into her shoulder as your pleasure overtook you.

She hushed you, hand rubbing your hip to coax you down from your high. Heavy breath heaved through your chest as you lay there, hot and thoroughly fucked as she helped you come back to her. Your eyes cracked back open, finding her looking down at you gently with a slight crease in her brow.

“You there, doll?”

You smiled, nodding as she rubbed her thumb across your bottom lip. Sharp exhales still shot through you as you relaxed against the bed and in her arms.

She pulled out slowly, easing out as you but your lip from the sensation. You watched as she took the harness off. She came back with a cloth and wiped the insides of your thighs.

“Why can’t you be this nice all the time,” you jested, pushing her shoulder gently with one foot.

She scoffed, laughing lightly. “I could say the same thing to you.”

You made an annoyed sound in your throat, brushing her off as she got back up. The mattress shifted with her weight and you tried your best to sit up and lean back against your pillows. Your wrists ached as you pushed yourself up, and the tendons in your thighs were sore as you closed your legs.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” you muttered. “How am I supposed to do my job now?”

She shrugged, pulling her pants back on. “That’s not my problem.”

You crossed your arms. “Food is expensive.” You didn’t make enough money that day to buy dinner for yourself yet, and you were starting to get hungry. She tired you out in every sense. Hell, you really needed some water too.

“Okay,” she nodded. “How about I make it up to you? I’ve got a poker game tomorrow night and one of my guys just bailed. There’s an empty spot at the table if you want it.”

Your brow furrowed. Why the hell did she want you there?

“You can eat as much as you want,” she offered.

Your head tilted to the side. Every pro and con ran through your mind and a million questions shot through you, but one came to the surface: “Why me?”

“Because I want someone easy to beat,” she teased, pulling her shirt over her head. She saw your glare and shook her head. “Really, there’s just no one else, and the game won’t be as good with less people. You seem like you could hold your own against the guys I hang out with—much better than the girls down the hall.”

Surely, she had some ultimotives. She probably just wanted to get in your pants again but was trying to be nice enough so you would let her. A night at her poker table would probably be a good time. You gambled with some of the other workers when business was slow and you thought you were pretty good. Besides, being seen with her so publicly would probably keep you safer when walking down the street.

“What time should I be there?”

She was fully dressed, standing at the edge of the bed. If she was happy with you agreeing, she didn’t show it. “About nine.”

“Okay. Fine.”

She nodded, leaning over the bed. “Okay, I have to go now.” She motioned for you to come forward and kissed you slowly when you complied.

She hummed against your lips. “Walk me out?”

“Funny.”

She laughed, leaning back and muttering a goodbye as she walked out. You said it back quietly, face slightly contorted in confusion as you tried to figure her out.

After she was gone, you laid there for a while in silence. Your sweat stuck to your skin as you ran your hands over your hair to tame it in the back. You wiped the makeup that was smudged under your eye.

A few minutes later, Zanria poked her head back into your room. You assumed she was just being nosy, but you soon saw she was carrying a tray of something.

“What?” You asked, feeling a bit too tired to be nice.

“She paid for this,” Zanria said, walking up to you in the bed. You sat up more to see the platter full of grapes, cheese, chocolate, and other small foods. There was a small pitcher of water, too.

Of course she did. She seemed to care about you a lot more than she was supposed to, and you weren’t complaining.

You only hoped it wouldn’t get too deep

#arcane #arcane league of legends #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #sevika x y/n #sevika x reader #sevika #sevika arcane #fluff #sevika fanfic

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comradekatara · 3 months

Note

specifically asking why *zuko* is sexist is WILD because i can’t think of a single ATLA character that does not at some point say something that reveals how deeply they have gender roles ingrained into them. even aang is not exempt (see: ember island players). anyway i don’t even have a question i’m just baffled. do people think feminism is just “girls are strong like boys”

RIGHT. ive seen people say that zuko “has no frame of reference for sexism,” that zuko “doesn’t know what gender roles are/what misogyny is,” that zuko “is a feminist (????????),” that zuko “would be appalled by sokka’s sexism,” that zuko “respects katara and would do chores with her while aang and sokka lounge around like the lazy entitled dudebros they are,” that zuko “comes from a feminist society and thus wouldn’t understand sokka’s misogyny,” etc etc. like, the fire nation is literally a fascist nation. their patriarchy is overt and unsubtle. what is ozai if not the ultimate patriarch. as i’ve already established earlier today, zuko is far more sexist than sokka in far more insidious ways. zuko has never witnessed any examples of sokka’s sexism and never will, because sokka unlearned his bioessentialist logic in episode four. sokka has witnessed plenty examples of zuko’s sexism, including the time he suggested that sokka (a kyoshi warrior) was a little girl incapable of saving aang, and that time he referred to katara as “your sister” because he never even bothered to remember her name. zuko was raised in a palace and cannot even hammer a nail into a roof without breaking his thumb, while sokka hunted and provided for his entire village by himself for years and aang was raised in a communal society where everyone did their fair share of labor to maintain their temple because there was no class hierarchy. zuko internalized extremely rigid gender roles and attempted to embody the violent masculinity of fascism his entire adolescence. just because he is aware that azula and her friends could kill him doesn’t mean that he respects them as human beings. and just because he’s never called out for the way he patronizes, infantilizes, insults, demeans, belittles, and trivializes women doesn’t mean it isn’t present in his actions throughout the entire show. and yes even aang is kind of sexist. the way katara is framed through his pov sometimes is not great, and the way he objects to being feminized in the play is understandable (bc it’s a piece of colonial propaganda that is intentionally degrading him thru misogynistic logic) but also sort of betrays that he isn’t the perfectly enlightened being he makes himself out to be. i’m pretty sure the only character who doesn’t behave sexistly or accept a sexist status quo at some point is suki, and that’s only because she grew up on the isle of lesbos and also happens to only have an total of 5 seconds of screentime. zuko is one of the principal players in the show and also the most deeply flawed. so like, of course he is sexist as well as subscribing to imperialist, hierarchical logic in other ways. it’s soooo evident throughout his entire character arc. i mean, it’s the entire point of his character arc. but this is the “lestat is woman coded” website so idk why im even surprised at this point.

#unreachedgalaxy #asks #zuko #aang #sokka #suki #hot takes #analysis #also im sorry but bringing up lestat …. we don’t need to bring iwtv discourse into this …..

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pristine-rose · 2 years

Text

Aphrodisiac

⊹ characters : la signora, jean, ningguang (separate)

⊹ synopsis : though they are normally calm and composed, you have a trick to drive them to a point of desperation

⊹ warnings : technically DUB-CON⚠️**, drug/aphrodisiac use, overstimulation, thigh riding (ning), strap-on (jean, referred to as a cock/dick after first mention), tongue riding (signora), dom reader

⊹ female reader (afab, she/her usage), not beta read

** all have kinda clearly had sex with reader before, however the dubcon warning is there bc, yk, unexpected drugging

fair warning guys i’m half drunk rn writing most of this (esp ning) so idk jusg take it LMAO. the only thing savjng this fic rn is my autocorrect. so sorry about the grammar

⊹ LA SIGNORA

You slipped it in her wine before she arrived to the dinner table, you sly little menace.

She was completely unaware of any mischievous intent you perhaps carried, sipping away casually as she ate. It was like any normal dinner to her, in which she dined with her lover as per usual. That is, until her body grew more sensitive, of course.

The slightest of movements—from her thighs rubbing together, or her own clothes rubbing against her nipples—brought her pleasure that shot straight down to her core. She tried to hide it from you. It was embarrassing for a lady like her to be feeling such things in front of the dinner table.

But one thing led right to the other, and she supposed you noticed it (or perhaps intended it)—her shameful state.

And now she was your dessert at the dining table, right on her chair.

You sat on the tiled floor with your back right up against the legs of her chair. Your head was tilted up, so that the back of your head was laying right down on the cushion. And there she “sat,” in all her aroused glory, bouncing her hips up and down onto your tongue like some animal in heat.

Her hands were gripped tightly on the back frame of the chair, practically holding on for dear life.

As much as she’d love to control her moans, she couldn’t—she was just far too sensitive right now. Every little breath that came out of her mouth contained some sort of whiney moan. Her eyes were half shut just to take in the pleasure as she almost fell from her position each time.

And your tongue was absolutely relentless on her—the way you sucked mercilessly on her clit, and the way your tongue dived deep. It was too much and she almost couldn’t take it anymore.

She would get off from sheer embarrassment of doing this in the middle of the dining area, but she couldn’t. Not when your hands practically held her thighs down like some restraint, even after she stopped bouncing. And even if she did, she wasn’t even sure she could stand with the intensity her thighs were trembling.

“S-stop,” she quietly whined down to you. She looked down at you, your face right under her body, so focused on licking her up. And when she begged those words, you looked up at her with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and you only sucked her cunt even harder.

Her head threw back with the loudest moan she let out that night.

“Please,” she trembled. “‘M so sensitive right now... Gonna ruin the seats…”

Your fingers dug into her her thighs a bit—she could only assume that was your way of laughing. But that didn’t matter. At least, the aphrodisiac didn’t make it matter. It was so good it hurt, and she was sure this is the most pleasure she’s ever felt.

So embarrassing, to cut dinner short just because she so was horny. And to think she was doing it now, getting eaten out right in the open area of her dining room where her maids can just waltz right in and out to see the both of you.

The way you just reached under her dress with your tongue, and the way she begged for it, bouncing up and down, and even grinding on your sweet muscle.

She gasped as she reached her second climax already for tonight, and dessert was served straight to your tongue. You grabbed her hips, and pushed her upwards, just to give yourself air to breathe and swallow down her cum. She was panting wildly in both shame and absolute stimulation.

But only seconds later, she placed herself right back on your tongue.

⊹ JEAN GUNNHILDR

She was working when you did it.

But her biggest weakness is denying you.

So when you waltzed right into her office with a cute little vial of pink liquid that you claimed Lisa made for me!—she tried to ignore you at first.

But you were so tempting with the way you placed the rim of the glass right against your own lips. She watched as you took a rather decent amount into your mouth, neared her, and then roughly kissed her as she gasped.

She immediately tasted the sweet liquid spilling into her mouth from yours, and she did not hesitate to swallow the mixture of the drink and your saliva. If anything, the action already made her feel lightheaded.

Your intentions were obvious; you always tried to find a way to distract her from her work, after all. Sometimes it would work, sometimes it wouldn’t. So when she faltered and gave you a cute little puppy-dog look of pleading arousal, she realized you had her right where you wanted.

Jean constantly whined at the feeling of your strap stretching her walls. You sat down on her office chair with your silicone strap sprung to life, and she was leaned forward a bit on the table.

Using the edge of the desk as leverage for her hands, she moved her hips up and down your dick, giving you a nice view of her backside as you leaned back comfortably to enjoy. You watched her pretty pussy take in your cock from behind—the way her lips wrapped around the silicone with wet sounds.

Her hips were shaking from the act. She could barely even continue with the feeling of it going in and out the more she moved.

“I… I can’t—!” she cried. “Please… ‘s too much. Can’t keep going.”

She heard you giggle behind her at her misery like a sadist. But before she could complain at such humiliation, her body was harshly pushed forward to be bent over the desk, and your strap was pushed deep into her cunt. She cried out a loud moan on impact, her face planting down on the cold wood once you pushed her upper body down.

You slowly leaned back once, then slammed right back in, and she came with the spasm of her body. She orgasmed hard—her cum spilled from her thighs down to the floor and she was sure she was going to squirt any time soon if you kept this up.

And of course you did; she was so cute when she was sensitive like this. The little sweet drug you gave her heightened all her sexual senses, and so the pounding of your cock into her walls only felt more pleasurable. She was unsure if she could even take it any longer.

But her body didn’t stop squirming as it continuously took in your pounding member. She felt the edge of the desk push up right against her thighs at every thrust. That was surely going to leave lines on her thighs, but she didn’t care. If anything, the feeling of them only made things even more pleasurable due to the added marking and slight pain on her skin.

The sounds of your cock slamming into her were so wet—the sound itself was so erotic, and though she couldn’t see it in action, the sound itself still turned her on.

Jean attempted to plant her hands down on the table for leverage to arch her back, but wouldn’t even do so in her hazy state of mind. Instead, she tried, and she failed. She continuously tried to hoist herself up, but each pound of your hips right against her ass just sent her tumbling back down onto the hardwood.

She couldn’t quite voice it, but she loved the feeling, though. This drug somehow made everything so noticeable and especially more pleasurable. Even the small feeling of her own cum running down her thigh was enough to made her leg shake.

She couldn’t stop moving. You had to hold down her pathetically squirming body just to give her sweet release.

⊹ NINGGUANG

It started out with a serving of tea.

That wasn’t off in the slightest. Whenever she was stressed working through documents in the early hours, you came at two in the morning just to give her the most calming of teas.

And tonight was no different.

Maybe she didn’t notice your excited behavior because of her work. Perhaps she was just too busy to see the little smirk on your face. However…

She wasn’t distracted enough to notice things once her pussy began to burn from arousal.

Damn you. You planned this out. She realized this once the position made it clearer—you asked her earlier if you could sit on her office chair, which she obliged to. And so you were sat chest-to-chest, with you on the chair and her on your lap.

Everything was fine. She was leaned over your shoulder and working on her documents while you rubbed circled on her hips and waist until the drug began taking affect. And good Gods… the manner in which her legs were spread around your body did not help her initial squirming

And now she was here—though she didn’t know how it ended up this way—rutting like some animal on one of your thighs.

Her breath reeks of sin every time it brushes against your ear. Needle little whines spill from her lips as she ruts against your thigh, and she’s so obviously aroused with the way you even feel her juices drip down your skin.

Her usually formal composure just completely collapses in this moment—all she cares for is getting off on your thigh. You can feel the lips of her clit flipping back and forth on your skin, and even the desperate pressure of her hips grinding down on you.

You laugh at her weak state for just a moment, causing her to release a breathy whine of complaint right into your ear.

You shiver a bit at the airy contact, and your body reacts on its own. On instinct, your leg jolts.

Ningguang lets out a near scream at the shift. It hit just right against against her clit, then she moaned at the feeling of her own juices spilling out even more on to your thigh. How embarrassing, for the Tianquan of Liyue to be so sensitive to the littlest of things. So little, that even a mere shift of movement has her crying out in pleasure.

This was definitely a mistake, however; perhaps her mind wasn’t hazy enough to realize this. For you took advantage of her dramatic reaction. She already felt dread pooling in her stomach when your hands dives to grab at her hips in such an mischievous way, grounding her in place.

“Let… let me move…” she starts to beg. Her hips try to fight against the hold you have on her body, which was being held down by your hands. She’s able to move against it, or course—and maybe it was the drug giving her such strength. But it wasn’t enough resistance to continue her previous pace in grinding, though. Please please please. She was so close to her high, too.

“Settle down,” you told her simply. And if she had half her brain right now, she would’ve hit down on your earlobe.

But before she could even consider it, your leg bounced.

It hit right at her little bud—more movement than she ever received from you tonight thus far.

And then you released your hands, still tightly gripping her hips, started to move. You practically ragdolled her body back and forth on your thighs, simultaneously bouncing it up and down. It wasn’t as fast of a pace as before, but dear Archons. Each hit from your leg bounce, the roughness of your hands as you moved her entire lower body…

She was whining in your ear nonstop from this. Just what did you slip in her tea that made her so pathetic? So vulnerable?

So sensitive?

After a while, it began to hurt as much as it felt good. The drug definitely heightened all her senses, and somehow each bouncing hit on her cunt felt even harder than before. It was so much pleasure, you could hear her almost start crying into your ear.

“‘S too much…” she quietly whined. Ningguang, always do diplomatic, still attempted to swallow down her moans. She cried, “I swear… slow down.”

By now, your thigh was practically drenched from her wetness and her cum. She was sliding so easily, and you can only imagine how her clit must feel against her slick skin. But instead of complying to her request, you moved one of your hands to the top of your thigh, and jutted out a knuckle on top of the flesh.

Ningguang didn’t notice this until her clit, sliding up your thigh, hit roughly right on your knuckle. She threw her head back, and you could almost laugh at the choked gasp she let out. You weren’t even surprised when she came right there and again on your thigh.

She was so sensitive tonight; came a lot more than usual, and reacted a lot more, too.

Perhaps you should start doing this whenever she seems a little stressed.

hELP ME J ACCIDENTALLY STUCK MY AIRPOD INTO MY VASELINE INSTEAD OF RHE CASE IM NEVER DRINKGING AGAIN

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