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garricks4thwingqueen · 2 days

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The Day of Dread: Xaden Riorson X reader

Prompt: “Do you want to take it off, or should I do it for you? Credit for prompt goes to @a-cure-for-writers-block

Warnings: NSFW, Swearing, not stated but intended feelings of anxiety.

The Day of Dread.

Xaden X reader whom is Liam Mairi’s older sister smut

This fic is a part of the #FourthWingBirthdayBash!

Synopsis: Your Liam Mairi’s older sister; exactly the same age as Xaden and Garrick. This made you the oldest female of what were now known as the rebellion children. With the work your father and Xaden’s and Garrick;s father did together you basically grew up together in Riorson House. This caused you to have a close relationship with the two boys; one more so than the other. This fic is set place on Reunification Day on the third year for reader and the two oldest rebellion boys. Being the oldest children of the rebellion, reader and Xaden know some Tyrrish. I used Gaelic to represent Tyrrish:

My love: Mo ghràdh Your love: do gaol

Mine: Mianach

Yours: Mise

Forever: Go Deo

Always: I Gconai

Other words to know Ilmari: (Readers dragon) means air in Scandinavian.

Trigger warnings: Swearin, NSFW, a little angsty but mostly fluff!

Word count: 2390

Reunification Day: Also known as the day that commemorates the day upon which the separatists were defeated and the rebellion overcome.

You groaned, waking up to the bright light shining through your and your fiance's room. Another groan left your mouth as you noticed your bed was cold and looked at the clock that read 7:00 a.m.. “Fuck.” you cursed as you noticed the dress that rested on the chair across the room. There was only a few days that you’d be caught dead in a dress reunifuckincation day was one of them that was against your will. For two years since you started at Basgiath with Xaden and Garrick; you’ve represented your group on your boyfriend's behalf. You wished none of the rebellion children had to represent the group on the day that each 107 children lost their parents. You’ve been going for Xaden and Garrick each year because those two would never be caught dead at that celebration. Thank the gods this was your last year before getting your assignments at the end of the year.

You smiled as you noticed there was a box and a note from Xaden on the table.

I’m sorry Mo ghràdh that I couldn't be here this morning, especially today. Gare and I had to make an unexpected supply run. Don’t start with me Mo ghràdh you have enough to deal with tonight we didn’t think we needed to bother you for an extra run this a.m. I thought this necklace I was able to find on our last run would go perfectly with your dark blue dress tonight. If I don’t see you before I’ll see you after for our favorite activities of the evening. I know this year has been tough but we are almost done, Mo ghràdh. I can't express in words how thankful I am to call you Mianach; I love you just one more time for this day. You have this, we have each other.

I’ll see you later tonight .

do gaol

-X.

You're insufferable right now. Your dragon Ilmari scoffed in your mind. You're not to pleasant yourself either this morning, you chided grabbing the box of our night stand.You pulled the blue ribbon of the box and opened it to reveal a note and a small velvet blue bag.

Brennan finally found this before our last supply run. He said he spotted the silver one morning on the sand near the river. I thought it would go perfect with your dress. I can't wait to take off of you.

-X

Pulling the drawstring bag out of the box your heart fluttered feeling the light to heavy weight and the all too familiar shape even before you took the necklace out of the bag you knew what it was. It was your family crest necklace, the Mairi family crest. It was a Tyrrish tradition to give each newborn a necklace of their family crest. You had thought you had lost yours forever during the rebellion when you had tried to help save your younger sister from being separated from you and Liam even though both were a sad defeat. You were a wreck that night once you realized the necklace did indeed fall off your neck. It took everything in Xaden to get you to calm down over the necklace and everything else that had happened that day. Being the eldest Mairi child you had the original necklace that had been passed down from your favorite Grandmother. You manipulated the air slightly to help you open the bag and grabbed the all too familiar silver chain and cried at the touch. It’s exactly how I remembered it when your Grandmother wore it when she was my rider. You would make her proud. Ilmari chimed through your bond which you could have sworn was the nicest thing that she had ever said to you. You do have a sweet side.

You chidded back to your green daggertail.

The day had passed and you hadn’t run into Xaden or Garrick. You knew the supply run had run late. You endured your morning run with Imogen and Violet. Imogen was like a sister to you but Violet you couldn’t stand. When Sgaeyl’s mate bonded with Violet during this year's Threshing you were furious. On top of everything else you had to deal with this year you wished that she wasn’t one of them. You sighed, putting on your dress and tightening the last string on your corset in the front. Because of the mated bond you now had to keep your sworn enemy alive just so your fiance didn’t die due to her weaknesses. You hated the fact that you were actually starting to like her. He tried to bond with you because you were Xaden’s mate. I warned him not to touch you because you were my rider's descendent.

You just simply sighed making any final adjustments to your dress to smooth it out and touched your necklace and smiled as there was a soft knock on the door. “Hey Li.” You smiled softly joining your brother. “You look amazing. Is that?” “Yeah it finally turned up.” Is all you could say with Violet on the other side of Liam. “Let’s just get tonight over with.” You sighed as you always dreaded this evening but thank the gods it was finally your last year at Basgiath before you became Lieutenant Mairi. “Xaden and Garrick are?” Violet asked as Imogen joined the three of you at the courtyard. “In their right minds and not here.” you responded a little too sharply. You knew where Xaden was and it pained your heart each year that you had to be the one to represent the group when he was you didn’t want to use the word sulking on the parapet but that was the best your mind could come up with; Garrick and Bodhi acting as his bodyguards.

You jumped and made a rush of air go past the group as you felt a soft brush on your hand. “Relax Mo ghràdh.” Xaden said quietly, turning you around to face him. You looked up smiling into his onyx eyes not expecting him or the other two to be down here in the slightest. “You look beautiful Mo ghràdh.” He whispered quietly to you. “What are you?” You started to ask your fiance softly as he brushed a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. “It’s our last year and you’ve endured so much this year my girl.” He soothed as his shadows were running soft touches down your arm as he held your hands tightly. “With Tairn bonding to Violet, with me making you and Imogen train Violet, so I have a chance at staying alive, to all the stuff with you know (and you did he couldn't say the words rebellion or supply runs with everyone else around), to you getting hurt; it just seemed like we could never catch a break this year.” You held your tears back as you crashed your lips into Xaden’s which he chuckled against yours and happily returned. You let your mind wander during your kiss as the fireworks went off in the distance. Everything Xaden had said was the epiphany of your worst year at Basgiath. Which was why on winter solstice this year and also your birthday; Xaden gave you the best gift ever which was asking you to marry him. “Xad.” You said softly as your lips parted but not fully. “You don’t have to be down here.” You said softly wrapping your arms around his waist as he chuckled softly. “I’m only down here for one reason and that's to relieve you of your duties early this year.” He smirked his shadows lightly touching your ankles. “Then tell me what are you think of my Xad.” You said through a cheeky grin as he held out his hand for you to take. “I’m thinking our bed is very empty at this moment. Walk with me my queen.” You smiled and took your fiance's hand as you both walked in the silence of each other's company towards your shared dorm on the third floor.

You finally broke the silence once you were on the third floor; “You know there was one thing about this year that wasn’t so bad.” You tried to smirk through your tears as his shadows now out of habit wiped your tears away whenever you cried. “And what's that?” “My birthday, that was the most romantic thing you’ve done since the first year we were fostered together.” Xaden chuckled. “It was the only fitting gift this year for you, Mo ghràdh.” He soothed “Mianach.” You whispered softly into his chest. “Mise, Geo Deo.” Xaden returned in the same tone. “I Gconai.” You mumbled softly into his chest.

Once you both entered your room and locked the door; Xaden smirked “You know there's only one question I have left for this evening. “Hmmm.” You mumbled into his chest. “Do you want to take it off, or should I do it for you?” You giggled as his hands started to wonder up and down your dress. “You're the one that's skilled with taking off corsets.” You smirked and nibbled his ear. “Oh y/n.” You know what that does to me he purred as he worked his way down the laces on your chest. You whimpered at the feel of Xaden’s calloused hands against your almost bare chest. Xaden nipped at the last bit of lace with his teeth and the dress came undone easily in a pool of navy blue at your feet. He unclipped your bra while sucking on your neck; as his shadows danced around your skin playfully.

Ever since Xaden had managed to control his shadow signet, his shadows had become second nature in your bedroom activities. Sometimes they'd even be a little naughty and go places in class where Xaden couldn't physically touch at the time. “Xad.” You whimpered as he began his work sucking away on your breasts and lifting you up around his waist only to throw you on the black sheets on your shared bed. You smirked sitting up Xaden was usually the dominant one but you had your moments. “Lay down Xaddy.” You purred and poked his chest which earned a grave chuckle from his lips. “I love this side of you.” Xaden purred as your lips worked magic on one of his nipples and your hand started stroking his tip and working it's way up and down his perfect cock. Xaden started to suck on your neck, his shadows making aclit. “You've gotten me hard my queen and you're so wet for me.” “Only for you my king.” You whispered through raspy breaths as your breathing became heavier.

Xaden finished with a moan as you pinched his tip when he flipped both of you over with ease. You moaned out “Xaddy.” As he aggressively took one of your pert nipples in his mouth, your hands clenched the black sheets for purchase as that mouth continued It's way down your body and joined his shadows by slipping his tongue inside of you. “God's fuck Xaddy.” You moaned at his tongue slipping in and out of you, his teeth giving a small nibble on your clit every now and again. “Say it again my love.” He said through a rasped voice peppering kisses up your stomach as you whimpered at the loss of his touch where you needed it most. “Xad N-need you.” You managed to pant out somewhat coherently. “Sshh Mo ghràdh. I have you.” He whispered as his lips aggressively found yours once more as his tip graced your entrance; his shadows still dancing inside of you. “Mine and so beautiful. Always so beautiful.” He breathed and started to trace your rebellion relic with his tongue. You whimpered and arched your hips while wrapping your legs around him once more. “You know.” He breathed and tilted your chin up so you were looking into his sexy onyx eyes. “Mmmm.” You moaned as his tip slid into you. “I may be bonded to Violet due to mated dragons but God's, y/n your the only one that could ever have me like this. You're the only one I promise Mo ghràdh.” “Please don't say her name right now.” You whimpered as Xaden chuckled and sucked your neck softly but also just enough to mark it. Violet was definitely not someone you wanted to be thinking about right now. “So wet so beautiful my baby girl.” Xaden rasped. “F-fuck Xad. I'm.” You moaned as he thrusts in and out of you with his cock and shadows at the perfect pace. “Your what Y/N?” He groaned as you knew both of you were about to completely lose all train of any common sense. “Xads.” You whimpered as you became a squirming mess around his cock. Xaden started to kiss you passionately once more as he came undone inside of you after two more thrusts. Xaden didn't pull out of you as he pulled you into his sweaty chest as you placed a soft kiss on his forehead and whispered “Mianach, Geo Deo.” As you rested your heads together; “Mianach, I Gconai.” Xad whispered in a matching tone and traced the lines of your necklace. “Thank you baby.” You whispered, squeezing his hand that was over the necklace. “No need to thank me my queen I'm just glad you have it back my love.” “Xad?” You whispered. “Hmm my girl.” “promise to never let me go ever.” You whispered nuzzling into your fiance's chest. “Never. I never plan to lose you ever my love. We've been through so much and it's only made us stronger; especially this year. I love you always.” “I love you to, forever and always.” You yawned and Xad chuckled “I suppose it is late. Curl up against me and rest y/n. I have you, good night, my love.” He said soothingly, wrapping his arms around you tighter. You couldn't even muster a good night as Xaden smiled and realized you had already drifted off. Neither of you knew what you were going to endure next but you knew it didn't matter because you would always have the safety of each other.

Authors note: This is my first really big smut piece I put out. Any feed back is welcomed! I want to thank @angstywaifu for giving me some feedback before posting!

#xaden riorson #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #fourthwingbirthdaybash

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seventh-district · 3 months

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This Evening I Will Not Forget

“I jumped into the fray with the intention of helping you and next thing I know I’m standing there uselessly watching the first person I’ve dared to love in two fucking centuries take a warhammer to the stomach!”

He turned to face you as he emphasized his last few words, now standing all but frozen in the middle of the tent with his hands held out, gesturing toward your injury. You’re about to pipe up and insist that it wasn’t his fault, but the words dissipate before you can speak them as another part of his sentence echoes in your mind. You repeat them back to him in a disbelieving whisper.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

An injury and an argument lead to you revealing far more of yourself and your unspoken past to Astarion than you planned to.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,292

Content Warnings: [injured Reader] (not graphically described, just mentions of bruising and pain) [mean/avoidant Astarion] [argument] [mentions of Reader's scars & non-specific allusion to their Tragic Backstory™] [vulnerability] [possibly (probably) OOC Astarion]

Author's Note: This is an excerpt from my fic An Evening I Will Not Forget, but can be read as a standalone one-shot. The only context I think you'll need is that this fic is written in the style of reliving memories, hence certain lines will mention Reader "looking back" on them.

“What's important is this evenin' I will not forget

Purple, blue, orange, red

These colors of feelin'

Give me love, I'll put my heart in it”

You’re lying on your back as cold, pale fingers press against your sensitive skin, pulling a small pained sound of protest from you.

“Sorry, sorry…”

Astarion retracts his hand, fingers curling into his palm. You reach out to catch hold of him before he can completely pull away, your voice tense with pain as you reassure him.

“No- no... don’t be. I know you’re just trying to help.”

You bring his hand back toward your exposed stomach, his fingers still coated in the healing salve he was attempting to apply. His hand hovers hesitantly over your bruised and broken skin.

“Yes, but- I’m not very good at it.”

Your thumb brushes across his wrist as you hold onto him, suspecting that if you let go he’d just retract his hand again.

“What do you mean? Of course you are.”

He shakes his head insistently.

“No. It seems like every time I try to help you, I just end up hurting you even more…”

Confusion is clear both in your voice and on your features.

“That’s not… that’s not true, Star.”

You tug lightly on his wrist to get his attention, your voice soft as you ask him a question.

“Is this about what happened today?”

He pulls his hand out of your loose hold and you let him, watching as he stands and begins pacing circles inside the tent.

“No, I’m in a bad mood because the weather isn’t quite to my liking- of course it’s about what happened today!”

The initial sarcasm in his voice gave way to frustration near the end. Not with you, but with himself.

Now that you’re observing this memory from his perspective as well, you can see the moment you sustained the injury playing over and over again in his mind, working him up further and further.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

Your eyes widen, nodding slowly.

“Yes you did.”

Nervous laughter escapes him as he takes a step back, distancing himself from you.

“No, no, you… you must have heard me wrong. I didn’t- I was talking about helping you, I didn’t say anything about love, what’s love got to do with this?”

You hate to push him, fearing he may bolt like a frightened deer if you double down, but you know what you heard. It wasn’t like the first time you heard him say it, slapping it on the end of a string of pick-up lines, the word obviously carrying no weight, no truth. No, this second time was different.

“I think it has more to do with it than you’re willing to admit, Astarion.”

He falters, one of very few times you’ve seen him truly caught off guard, truly speechless.

“Those are…” He searches for something to say that’ll cover up the truth that’d just spilled out of him. “...bold words for someone currently bedridden.”

You bark a laugh and it turns into a low groan at the pain it causes to flare in your lower ribs.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

If he’s being honest, even he’s hardly sure what he meant. He’s truly floundering here, for the first time in… forever.

“It means… it means that I can walk away from this conversation right now and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”

Stooping so low as to resort to childish threats, you can feel the embarrassment radiating off of him.

“Would you truly be so cruel as to do that to me right now? Walking away, leaving me vulnerable and confused just because you can’t handle the truth?”

You’re pushing your luck too far and you know it. Surprisingly, though, he takes one step toward you, moving away from the exit.

“Cruel?! If you think that me simply walking away from you counts as cruelty then you truly haven’t suffered enough.”

His words are suddenly laced with venom and they hit you harder than the barbarian’s warhammer did today, leaving a chill colder than ice in their wake.

He seems to actually hear what he said a moment later, the careless words ricocheting off of you and coming back to slam into his chest, nearly knocking him over and crushing him beneath the weight of his sudden regret.

A furious wave of heat and adrenaline courses through you as you bolt upright in the makeshift bed, ignoring the sharp pain that flares inside you in response to the sudden movement. Reaching down and grabbing at the tail of your shirt where it’s bunched up around your ribs, you hastily yank it up over your shoulders and head, tugging your arms out of the long sleeves and furiously tossing the garment directly at him.

“Suffered enough? You think I haven’t fucking suffered enough, Astarion? You don’t know the goddamned HALF of it! You’re not the only one in this tent that’s been abused, you know?! Oh wait- that’s right- you DON’T!”

Your voice cracks under the pressure of volume and emotion as fat, hot, angry tears roll down your cheeks against your will. Astarion stands there like a deer in the headlamps, your balled-up shirt having hit him softly in the chest and fallen anticlimactically to the ground. As his eyes rake over your heavily scarred arms, the angry purple markings showing no signs of lessening as they curl over your shoulders and disappear behind your back, it suddenly starts to make a lot more sense why you were so damned insistent that no one remove your clothes while treating your wounds earlier.

Shadowheart rips open the flap covering the tent’s exit, a very concerned looking Halsin ducking down behind her. Part of you is grateful that at least not everyone was currently at camp to witness your sudden breakdown, but even the sight of the two of them is enough to have you panicking. Pulling at the blanket gathered around your waist and shouting in an admittedly very childish, vulnerable voice, you demand they leave as you choke on your tears, hastily covering yourself up.

“GET OUT!”

Unsure of what to do, Shadowheart surveys the scene before her with a critical eye before sighing, seeming to understand that the best thing they can do right now is give you back your privacy. She knows that if you needed her, you would call. Turning to shoo away the concerned man behind her, she lowers the flap back down with a quiet murmur of “They’re… fine. Let’s give them some space.”

Astarion finally breaks free from where he’s been stood like a statue, slowly moving toward the exit as well with an unsure glance in your direction.

You bury your face into the fabric clutched in your hands, shouting into it in exasperation.

“NOT YOU!”

He freezes, no longer knowing what to do but wishing that the ground would simply open up and swallow him whole. Back under six feet of soil feels like where he deserves to be after what he just said to you.

He racks his brain for the right thing to say, coming up empty handed and eventually deciding that honesty might just be the best policy in this situation.

“I… I’m going to level with you. I have no idea what to do right now.”

In spite of it all, you laugh, a broken sound that cuts through your tears, causing you to cough, then the strain from coughing causes more tears to fall. Though he can’t admit it, Astarion knows right then and there that he never wants to hear or see you in such pain ever again.

“I… I’ll level with you, too.”

You pull the blanket away from your face, looking at him with watery, bloodshot eyes.

“...Neither do I.”

You glance down at the floor, attempting a deep breath and failing spectacularly as another broken sob escapes you. Dropping the fabric still held up against your chest, you press your hands down into the bedroll beneath you in an attempt to support your upper body and ease the pain radiating through your core.

Astarion takes one cautious step toward you, his unsteady voice the only thing filling the silence aside from your soft crying.

“I need… to apologize. For everything.”

You shake your head in disagreement and clear your throat.

“No, you don’t. You’ve been through a worse hell than I could ever even imagine. It’s… stupid of me to try and compete with you in that regard.”

He takes another step forward, insistent.

“That isn’t true. You have… clearly been through your own hell, and it was… stupid of me to assume you hadn’t. Even worse of me to try and downplay my avoidance by… holding my past over you like some sort of… like some sort of excuse.”

You shift your weight to the side in order to lift one hand, reaching out to grab at one of the small cloths stacked beside your bed. Astarion sees you struggling to reach them and rushes forward, closing what remained of the space he’d put between you as he lifted a cloth and handed it to you without a word.

You bring it to your face, pressing it to your eyes in a useless attempt to dry the tears that were still falling. Then, moving it down to blow your running nose into the cloth before you could make an even bigger mess of yourself than you already were. Finally able to breathe a bit better, you counter his point.

“Yeah, but- the thing is, I feel like you kinda have the right to do that, given all that you’ve survived. Of course you’d see the pain of walking away from a conversation as trivial when you compare it to… literally anything you’ve experienced.”

Now that he’s returned to your side, Astarion’s head angles to drag his gaze across your exposed back, finally seeing the full extent of your scarring as you lean forward a bit to toss the dirty cloth to the floor of the tent next to your shirt. Nausea swirls deep in the pit of his stomach as the upsetting sight of your marred skin burns itself into his memory.

“I believe… that’s called a double standard.”

You throw him a sad, confused look, and he explains.

“You’re trying to give me some sort of… free pass based on what I’ve been through, but I’ve never once seen you give yourself that same sort of leniency.”

“That’s… not the same thing.”

“I’m not saying we’ve been through the exact same thing, but…” He gestures vaguely to the entirety of you. “...clearly you’ve gone through something. If I get to lord my baggage over you then surely you’re permitted to do the same.”

Your tears begin to slow as you consider his words.

“I don’t… want to do that, though. Obviously. That’s why I haven’t told you. I don’t want you giving me special treatment because ‘poor pitiful me’ has gone through some shit. I don’t think that excuses any of my current behavior.”

The silence hangs in the air for a moment before he gently drives his point home.

“Yet you think it excuses mine?”

Hm.

“...okay. I guess you’ve got me there.”

You sigh, body beginning to feel heavier than lead as the sudden rush of emotion and adrenaline fades from you. You ease yourself back down, hissing at the pain as your bruised ribs and torn muscles protest the stretch and movement. Astarion wants to assist but truth be told he’s afraid to touch you. So, he watches on helplessly, still berating himself in the back of his mind for the role he feels he played in you sustaining today’s injuries to begin with.

Once you’re laid down and relaxing into the bedroll as much as you can, you make no effort to cover yourself up, not caring how long his eyes wander across your exposed skin. Silently, he tries to read the countless jagged lines and dots carved into you like they may eventually come together to paint him a picture of all that’s happened to you.

No picture anyone could paint would ever do the pain justice.

He settles himself down next to you as your tired eyes stare a hole in the ceiling of the tent.

“You do not have to accept my apology, but I will not rescind it. I do have the wherewithal to know that what I said was wrong. It was cruel. I…”

He exhales, the heavy sound full of the weight carried by a man that hasn’t been this honest with anyone in centuries.

“I… tossed aside any consideration for how you may have felt, letting myself get lost in my own… stupid fears. It wasn’t right. It certainly wasn’t fair to you.”

Your head lolls to the side, appraising him with lidded eyes.

“You know… you’re surprisingly self-aware when you aren’t being a pompous ass.”

Your words draw a surprised laugh out of him and after a moment of consideration, he nods slowly in reluctant agreement.

“I’ve… had a lot of time to sit with myself and think. Eventually you get to know yourself pretty well.”

He looks down, idly picking at the loose threads on the edge of your well-worn bedroll.

“All of that self-awareness apparently doesn’t make me any kinder though, does it?”

It’s a rhetorical question but you answer it all the same.

“I still stand by my statement that you have good reason to be so… abrasive. Just being aware of those reasons doesn’t mean that they suddenly don’t affect you any more.”

Your hand raises from where it laid lifelessly beside you, reaching over for Astarion’s and pulling his anxious fingers away from attacking the weak points of your bedroll. You don’t release his hand once you direct him away from the loose threads, holding onto him as you continue to muse aloud.

“I think that a lot of us are just doing our best to not allow our past to affect our present, to varying degrees of success. Sometimes we fail. But- I believe all that truly matters at the end of the day is that we’re trying, though. … And, Astarion?”

“...yes?”

“I can tell that you’re trying.” You squeeze his hand. “And I accept your apology.”

You take a slow, deep breath, and listen as his voice comes out softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“Thank you.”

You nod your head in a silent “of course,” laying in thoughtful silence for a few moments before speaking.

“I… feel like I should apologize as well.”

Now it’s Astarion’s turn to be confused.

“What ever for?”

You weakly raise your other hand to gesture all around the room.

“Just… this. The scene I just made. Heaping all of this emotion onto you when you were obviously already struggling with how you felt about me in the first place.”

He doesn’t take long to respond.

“No, I don’t think you need to apologize for that. This… seems like it really needed to come out. I could never be upset with you for sharing it with me, regardless of the… unideal circumstances.”

He then seems to realize something.

“I hope you don’t regret it, though. Sharing this with me.”

You shake your head decisively and the motion causes your impending headache to flare.

“No. I don’t. I- uh- you were going to find out eventually with how… close we’ve been getting. I just couldn’t find the right time to tell you- or- well, show you, I guess.”

Your hand releases its hold on his, reaching up to carefully brush your fingertips across the mottled skin of your stomach. You raise your head up, angling it down to look down at the injury with a thoughtful gaze. Glancing over toward Astarion, you ask him another question.

“Can you hand me that salve from earlier? It never really… got fully applied.”

He immediately reaches behind him for the container, but holds it in his grasp as he stumbles over his words.

“I- I, uhm… wouldn’t mind trying again, if you want me to. If you don’t I’ll understand, though. Just… want you to know that the offer is still there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you’re completely willing to let him do it.

“Oh… sure? You’re welcome to, I just… assumed you wouldn’t want to.”

He holds his other hand up and only then do you realize he never wiped the salve from his skin.

“These fingers are numb already anyways, might as well spare yours the same fate.”

You vaguely remember Shadowheart’s words as she passed Astarion the container earlier, cautioning him to not leave it for long on any skin he didn’t want to temporarily lose feeling in.

“But hey, at least we know that it works now, right?”

You give him a tired smile, appreciative of his efforts to lighten the mood.

“Mmm, I suppose so.”

You pull your hand away, exposing your injury to him once again.

“Have at me, then.”

With your permission, he sweeps a scoop of the healing and numbing mixture across your sensitive skin and you notice how feather-light he keeps his touch this time. Looking down to observe his work, you note how the messy mixture of the massive bruise’s dark colors stand in stark contrast to his pale white fingers that brush across it.

A thought slips out of your exhausted mind.

“Pretty…”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, unsure if he heard you correctly.

“Hmm?”

“The colors. They’re pretty. Purple, blue, even kinda orange…”

You look away from the bruise and up into his ruby eyes.

“...red.”

He’s silent for a moment, his hand pausing its gentle motion. Then he scoffs, looking away and internally dismissing your words as the ramblings of a tired mind.

“You’re talking nonsense, dear.”

Your filter has all but completely vanished, feeling almost drunk on your current mixture of exhaustion and relief after such a hell of a day. Sleep beckons you and your eyes fall closed as the pain in your ribs fades, on its way to being numbed out by the potent salve. A hazy thought surfaces, reminding you to give your thanks to Shadowheart when you next awake. For now though, you relax, no thought given to the words that slip from your lips.

“But you love my nonsense, don’t you…”

His heart feels like it jumps in his chest as he hears you so casually speak the word that he’s still reluctant to even think to himself, let alone say aloud. As he finishes massaging the salve into your skin and pulls his hand back, his eyes pass over the expansive unspoken history of pain evidently etched into your skin, up across your chest, over your shoulders and down your arms. He figures the least he can do is answer you honestly before sleep pulls you under.

“I… suppose I do.”

End Notes: If you'd like to read my commentary on this scene, you can find that in the end notes of Ch. 5 on AO3 - right here!

Header Image Source: x

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #my writing #eheheee my attempt at baiting more people into reading my fic by posting parts of it as oneshots on Tumblr has begun /hj #i'm only half joking tho cause yeah while getting more eyes on the full fic would be a nice side effect if the oneshots do well on here #i also just want to give my favorite parts of the fic that i feel can stand on their own a chance at a second life here on Tumblr #regardless of whether that brings more people in to read the full fic or not

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crossbackpoke-check · 6 months

Note

18 + swaymark!!

oooo thank you!!

#18 - pleaser, wallows + swaymark

okay i know they are canonically obsessed with each other but. the song is in some ways about feeling like you’re failing in your relationship and being not quite as obsessed with them as they maybe are with you, and in this video of them talking about being a tandem, there is the slightest pause before swayman answers “do you miss him?” that makes me want to probe a wound. we’re not talking irl reasons of how that’s an absurd question (how do you miss him. you’re coworkers you’re seeing each other all the time) we’re talking that maybe this whole goalies-in-love thing got blown out of proportion and now swayman’s having to buy into the bit too hard. linus loves it & everyone’s asking about their bromance & how they love each other so much and the thing is—linus is safe. he’s got a wife and plausible deniability and jeremy? jeremy is gay. sure, he can crack jokes and people-please but the more people ask the more they're going to find out until maybe they find out something jeremy doesn't want them to know. and the longer this goes on, the more jeremy has to sit at linus' dinner table with linus and his beautiful wife and pretend like he isn't a little bit in love with him. and you know what? the longer it goes on and linus doesn't dial it down jeremy does stop being in love with him, because it just feels cruel, until he finally is done enough that he stops biting his tongue and ruins the moment.

#…this so is not a five sentence summary but ALSO this manages to perfectly align with something i was obsessed with (that media video)#like yeah is that pause reasonably a buffering time to a weird question? yes!!! do i want to read into it & make swayman a bit uncomfortabl #also yes!!! sorry i decided to give them tragique but they were assigned by spotify. the other option for this song was an ED fix-it fic #about healthy sex and learning that it can be a part of a normal relationship!! sex is weird and fucked up!! but like. that’s just because #i have always interpreted this song as a) unrequited best friend love & you’re worried you’re gonna fuck it up b) virgin who doesn’t know #what sex is and is scared to tell anyone and then option c) people pleaser keeps going along with it but can’t anymore #also OBVIOUSLY they end up fine. whether that ends up being jeremy finally telling linus (oblivious) i don’t want to do this with you #i need to get over you & them creating a platonic space & sway ends up with someone else OR linus has the oh. true. i simply never #considered that i could be gay for you option OR the one i have just invented but is now my favorite because i love a good polycule is that #linus & his wife simply add jeremy to their relationship. and then this song becomes jeremy scared to have sex with linus’ wife at first lo #liv in the replies #the interviews in that video doing the lord’s work fr but also that ‘do you not miss him’ feels SO uncomfortable. say no! but then he leans #in with the dirty jokes comment & i know i’ve made like eight variations already (sorry. that’s how my brain works) but it is soooo fun #to me personally if they are broken up but now have to act nice & keep doing all these rituals & sell us on the narrative & they’re just #trying to see who’s going to crack first. needle each other into laughing or getting irritated enough it shows through & the other one wins #do even more aggressive hug rituals!! get a medical warning from the athletic training staff!!!

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simpjaes · 2 months

Text

HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later.

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up.

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!!

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show? What’s not to love about it?

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire.

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work.

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage.

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers?

You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard.

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance.

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status.

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage.

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday.

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money.

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see.

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it.

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does.

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center.

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits.

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time.

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves.

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you.

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass.

“Jake, again?”

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though.

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe.

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.”

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out.

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays.

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good.

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity.

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even.

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others.

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?”

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him.

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him.

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.”

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with.

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him.

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips.

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body.

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it.

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?”

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night.

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule.

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap.

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has.

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face.

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?”

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him.

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him.

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper.

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you.

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free.

The game is on now though, it seems, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out.

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile.

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours.

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?”

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it.

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him.

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win.

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him.

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?”

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin.

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?”

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you.

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks.

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked.

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it.

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special.

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching.

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined.

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him.

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him.

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment.

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick.

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you.

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out.

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in.

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric.

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice.

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags.

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face.

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now.

You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture.

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him.

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker.

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.”

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back.

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing.

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls.

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak.

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you.

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway.

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked.

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it.

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again.

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping.

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.”

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this.

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you. He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do.

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you.

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held.

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely?

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.”

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch.

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door.

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob.

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #jongseong smut #jay smut #park jay smut #jay park smut #enha smut

1K notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 2 months

Text

SOJU | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)

genre: heavy angst, heavy smut

word count: 10.4k

summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine

warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny

note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩

side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.

Jungkook will always be a man of his word.

It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.

He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.

It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.

Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.

Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.

A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.

He hates people.

Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.

His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.

He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.

He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.

Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.

He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.

The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.

He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.

You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.

He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.

To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.

It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.

He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it.

Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube.

He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.

So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.

That’s another promise, too.

He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.

“Can you stop?”

Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.

“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”

He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”

You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it.

He doesn’t think you could.

He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts.

Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it.

You don’t say anything.

When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately.

“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery.

He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly.

Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head.

Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting.

“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.”

He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.

You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.

Promise. There it is again.

He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.

Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.

“You don’t want a blowie?”

Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.

Decides he will provoke you right back.

“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”

You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.

Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”

You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.

He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.

You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.

Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…

The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.

A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view.

Hobi.

The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air.

“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back.

Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you.

Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery.

A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.

Jungkook sees red.

His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage.

The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.

He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way.

The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.

Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one.

The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.

But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.

For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.

You slip out of his grasp and move past him.

There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.

Nothing.

***

Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you.

Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched.

It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead.

“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip.

Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.”

He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.

You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel.

His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.

He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name.

You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.

He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room.

“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.”

You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin.

The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else.

Jungkook figures it’s his turn.

“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add.

Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away.

“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.”

Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all.

“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands.

There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.

He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”

Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely.

“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again.

His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.

“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.”

He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness.

Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.”

Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, you nod.

After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled.

The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light.

Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty.

“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”

The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot.

“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.”

You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—

You mumble something into his skin.

His heart jumps.

“I didn’t catch that, baby.”

You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.”

Your words tell him a lot of things.

He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home.

And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are.

He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it.

“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.”

He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters.

Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.”

You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes.

“Make me forget about tonight, please.”

He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you.

“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling.

You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb.

It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can.

“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.”

“Let’s go.”

Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay.

The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night.

***

“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.”

Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit.

You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body.

“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care.

“I once had a toner that—”

Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you.

You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you.

“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”

He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles.

“I know you can, but let me.”

You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.”

He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit.

The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity.

You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy.

“Oh my god.”

Serves you fucking right.

“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.”

It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?”

You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.”

Does so himself.

He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.

You rouse it him and he just listens.

His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.

He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires.

Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes.

A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.

Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked.

Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes.

He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over.

Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside.

“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.”

You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more.

“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.”

Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.

Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.

You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten.

He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough.

You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.

Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.

You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette.

The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine.

Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.”

He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—

He devours you.

You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…

“Fuck yourself on my tongue.”

He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before.

His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates.

Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty.

Wants you to get used to it.

You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching.

He aches—aches badly to be inside of you.

Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance.

When he penetrates you there, you scream.

You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again.

He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do.

You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want.

“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”

You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm.

You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.

When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”

Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same.

Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart.

You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now.

Tears well up in his eyes.

“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy.

He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is.

There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out.

It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.

He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it.

“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in.

“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”

You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted.

Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled.

A dream come true. A desire gratified.

You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you.

You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much.

“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.

“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?”

The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair.

“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.”

A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.”

He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”

He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore.

He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.

An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?”

“Fast.”

Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?”

You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.”

It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes.

One person. One mind, one heart.

Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good.

Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—

“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”

Butterflies.

Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you.

Gives you all of his cock.

He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you.

“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?”

Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy.

And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?”

The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it.

He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs.

“No, feels good.”

“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?”

You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair.

Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe.

“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.”

You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too.

It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead.

He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off.

He pounds into you.

You’re no longer smiling.

Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard.

Merciless.

He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.

But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—

You’re gone.

Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you.

Who is he to say no to you?

“You just want it bad, don’t you?”

You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him.

“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.”

The air grows dense.

“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”

His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has.

He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned.

His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum.

He will make it up to you tomorrow morning.

Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you.

He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—

“You tired, baby?”

You sound just like him.

Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down.

“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”

He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in.

With a barrier in between.

You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.

In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—

“I love you.”

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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crushmeeren · 6 months

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SFW & NSFW Bakugou Headcannons

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you aren’t into this

Note; These are Random SFW & NSFW Bakugou headcannons that exist to me 😫 sometimes I can’t stop thinking about Bakugou and the things he may do. I needed to just get them out even if it isn’t a one shot. Please enjoy these with me 💥 Also, these were only a few, I had a lot more but didn’t wanna make it too cluttered

Warnings; making out, pussy eating, hickies, choking, bit of dirty talk/praise, not so vanilla vaginal sex/anal sex, aftercare

Another note; I may have gone a bit overboard with this… anywho I really really liked writing this, just something to post in between my one shots, I could write more for him as well as other characters, feel free to suggest one! 💕

If this gets 1,000 notes I’m gonna shit myself

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Katsuki who constantly paints his nails black and has piercings lining from the lobes all the way up on both sides of his ears, plus a tragus on the left and a daith on the right (black and silver jewelry only)

Katsuki who also has a damn eyebrow piercing, who also has tattoos all over his arms and chest (mostly black & gray), it all, unsurprisingly, makes you drool

Katsuki who is actually left handed, who places his right hand on the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he drives because he always wants to touch you (the fucker squeezes a bit too hard when someone cuts him off, road rage for real with him)

Katsuki who only listens to Japanese rock and heavy metal at full fucking volume, who rolls the windows down during summer and blasts it while you drive down the highway (but you love the music too, so you digress)

Katsuki who religiously wears all black, who loves Doc Martens and Vans, who has an unbearable amount of SiM band T-shirts (which you steal, but he doesn’t mind)

Katsuki who plays the drums and learns your favorite rock song just so he can play it for you (spoiler- you cry)

Katsuki who says fuck almost every other word (but so do you)

Katsuki who introduces you to Eijirou & Denki, who become some of your closest & best friends (you’re so grateful for this, you love those idiots, they’re at your house often)

Kastuki who flushes a soft peachy color to the tips of ears the first time you call him Katsuki

Katsuki who bakes you any desert you want, whenever you want, who always makes you dinner (it’s like an orgasm in your mouth)

Katsuki who encouraged you to get into fitness in the first place, who has supported you every step of the way, who loves you no matter what you look like, but wanted to share his passion of working out with you (Eijirou is often there with you)

Katsuki who helped you learn how to love yourself, who has always been your weight lifting/running buddy (you complain, but now you secretly love going to the gym with him. Plus Bakugou in gym clothes? Dear god.)

Katsuki who pushes you outside your comfort zone, who is stern but that’s what you need to stay focused

Katsuki who can tell when you’re getting overstimulated at the grocery store, so he moves as fast as he can, giving anyone around you the bitchiest look he can manage, while holding your hand and whispering sweet words to you

Katsuki who loves you unconditionally, who you trust wholeheartedly, who is your best friend, who you want to spend the rest of your life with, and he feels the exact same way

💥Little Warning, the NSWF part is below this 💥

Katsuki who fucking loves making out, who gets warm shivers, cock throbbing when you lick behind his teeth and over the roof of his mouth

Katsuki who sucks your soft nipples into his mouth one at a time, who likes to tease you, giving you the erotic view of his warm tongue swirling around one, sucking with plush lips, who bites and pulls making your skull dig into the pillow

Katsuki who sharply bites hickies into the underside of your tits, dull teeth making your skin ache, forcing you to squeal as he liters you with bruises

Katsuki whose voice is gravelly and low when he whispers to you that you’re his needy little bitch and his sweet girl in the same goddamn sentence (you think you could cum just from his nasty mouth)

Katsuki who wraps his pretty lips around your clit making you see stars, sucking gently, who slips his middle two fingers into your slick pussy and swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud until your dripping, badly aching for his cock

Katsuki who gets you so motherfucking wet his thick cock slides in all the way in at once, curly blonde pubes brushing your clit, who sends heat flaring up your spine, out to your limbs as you feel every inch of his dick slide in and out

Katsuki who bites roughly at your calf (he really loves biting you), who leaves teeth marks near your ankle bone as he wraps his fingers around one leg, hooking your knee over his shoulder as he folds you in half

Katsuki who lets you wear his fingers as a necklace, squeezing the sides just right, so you feel dizzy, lightheaded with pleasure when he makes you cum like that

Katsuki who gets so sweaty during sex you watch as it drips down the side of his face, down his neck, who laughs, making you feel filthy when you can’t resist the urge to sit up and lick the liquid from the hollow of his throat

Katsuki who actually fucking loves anal because your ass sucks his cock in just right, who fucks you from behind while he stretches your ass open (little bit of double penetration with his fingers, it’s so damn good)

Katsuki who lets you guide his cock slowly into your ass, panting, whining, growling about how hard it is not to flex his cock so he doesn’t rip you in half

Katsuki who lets out high pitched whines/moans when he starts to really fuck your tight ass, who pushes down on your upper back, nails digging in, forcing you into the mattress

Katsuki who fucks your ass so well your fingers almost rip the sheets, who has you screaming Katsuki! so loud you muffle your shouts in the mattress, whose hips bounce off your ass so hard it turns your skin red

Katsuki who nails your sweet spot through your ass, who makes you makes you cum so hard you get chills, who makes you scream out that you can’t take it (but you can and he knows, your safe word is dragonfruit after all)

Katsuki who is so mean, gripping your hips so tightly, pulling you back into his thrusts, who speaks condescendingly when he asks you where the fuck you think you’re going, because he knows you can take his thick cock, cuz you’re his good little girl

Katsuki who fills your ass, your pussy, cums anywhere he fucking wants because he can, covering you in thick, warm ribbons of his release

Katsuki who cleans you up after, who helps you get dressed, who trades sweet kisses with you in the dark as he holds you until you pass out, head resting on his chest as he snores softly

2K notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 2 months

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Yoongi fic recs 2024 🥳

In honor of Yoongi’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Yoongi stories, that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024) 💜 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹 🥳

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (💜) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄.

⭐Illicit Favors @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // producer!yoongi, virgin!reader, f2l // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

🗨️ Matchmaker Namjoon!! The premise is funny and leads to slight awkwardness, but it’s so good. I love the reader and Yoongi’s friendship in this. I was left speechless after reading it, I can’t recommend this enough 🙂

⭐Tricks of the Trade @stutterfly // myg x f.reader // body swap!au, soulmates!au, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers // 🥰😂🥵

📝 The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That’s why you frequent it. It’s definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you’ve been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you’re waking up in a body that definitely doesn’t belong to you. You can’t decide if it’s the best or worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

🗨️ This is utterly perfection! It is so funny and hilarious - but it is also insanely smutty! It’s really interesting with body swapping, what they learn about each other, lol. I read this on a day where I was feeling down, and it honestly made my day! 💜Also, now I kinda wanna watch ‘She’s the Man’ 😂

⭐Backtrack @mapofthesea // myg x pjm x reader // producers!yoonmin, assistant!reader, bi!yoongi // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s no telling just how long you’d been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain.

🗨️ Holy fuck 🥵 I feel like I need to take a very long shower now 🫣🫣🫣 this is probably one of the dirtiest fics I’ve read. It’s so good 🤤

⭐Workaholic @hobiwonder [10K] // myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night.

🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨

⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides @violetsiren90 // myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."

🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.

⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨

⭐Mami @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader, knj x f.reader, jhs x f.reader // roommates!au, battle rap!au // 🥵

📝 You somehow have a conversation with Yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

🗨️ So, so good 🥵 really looking forward to more of this series 🥵 🫣

⭐Damn the Charcuterie Board @bratkook // myg x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 This doesn’t have a summary, so here goes mine; reader has has a sling of unfulfilling sexual times, and in the company of her best friends, she thinks about a video she watched recently. Could they give her what she needed?

🗨️ This has been on my reading list for so freaking long! 🥹 And now I finally got to read it, and damn, it is one of the best, filthiest fics out there. So, so good! 💯🥵

⭐Cotton Candy Computer (1) [series; discontinued] @softyoongiionly // myg x f.reader // hacker!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 Min Yoongi is the top hacker in the world. He has put away countless other cyber criminals all whilst evading detection by virtually everyone he has ever crossed paths with, including the government. The diabolical super hacker that came close to tracking him down is now serving a 10 year prison sentence, all thanks to Yoongi’s handiwork. So what happens when the sentence is shortened unexpectedly? What happens when the biggest threat to public safety is roaming the streets again, determined to get revenge on the man who put him away? What happens when the worlds most infamous hacker just so happens to manage your local Mikrokosmic Electronics? A terabyte of trouble.

🗨️ Shit this was incredibly good!!!! Why isn’t it finished? 😭 I don’t usually read unfinished or discontinued series, but the summary really had me and I just had to read it – and now I’m hooked and I want more of this sexy hot hacker Yoongi! 😭 The story was also just so well written and the chemistry between reader and oc was so fucking perfect, and don’t get me started on the smut, like ugh 🥵 Gosh, I’m so sad there aren’t more parts to it (like the author planned four parts). But it’s so so good, and the cliffhanger isn’t horrible (in terms of wanting to read the next chapter). It can definitely be read as a one shot, I just really, really wished there was more, because, fuck, it was perfect! 💯💜✨

⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ I will keep screaming about Ryen and 3tan, yes. And if you have not read it yet, please take 3-7 days off from work or school to do so 😂

⭐Sinful Lust [completed series] @oddinary4bts [71.9K] // myg x f.reader x jjk // slice of life!au, bisexual boyfriend!yoongi // 🥵🌩️🌩️🌩️

📝 in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

🗨️ this one is special to me (as is everything Ella writes honestly). This one is very controversial because of the cheating aspect in it, but it feels so real and it’s very well handled! I love it! It’s very angsty too, made me cry multiple times– I was just so invested in it! I’m really trying not to spoil too much (I already have lol). Just, read it okay??? ✨

⭐F*ck Christmas @sailoryooons [23.4K] // myg x f.reader // f2l // 🥰🥵

📝 Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this sometime last year and it was perfection - it still is! ✨ It’s so so so fucking good. If you haven’t read it, please do so 🥹 it’s also one of the best Christmasy fics 💜

⭐Eargasm + Eargasm II @lavishedinjimin [9.5K + 14K] // myg x f.reader // phonesex!au, sexhotline!au // 🥵

📝 the idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.

🗨️ holy fuck, FUCK. this is insane 🥵🥵🥵

⭐Less of Them [ongoing series] @casuallyimagining [9.9K] // myg x f.reader // established relationship, arranged marriage!au, star-crossed lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰🪄

📝 as the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.

🗨️ PLEASE, PLEASE— FUCKING PLEASE. If you have not read this one yet. Please do it now 😭🥺 It made me cry in the best way possible! The world building, the characters, their love for each other shines to fucking bright and then– [spoiler] READ IT yelling with hands frantically moving above my head

⭐Things that Grow @violetsiren90 [0.9k] // myg x f.reader // established relationship, idol!au // 🥰🌩️

📝 the idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.

🗨️ it is so fucking beautiful, I can’t even begin to articulate… fuck. I know it’s very short, but dammit I love it. Every single freaking word in this is PERFECTION.

⭐Hard Liquor @chateautae [8k] // myg x f.reader x jjk // business!au, age!au, executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader // 🥵

📝 your dull evening at a bar becomes hopeful when your mysterious, handsome boss min yoongi shows you the ropes on everything alcohol, but shows you much more when he ends up buried deep inside you.

🗨️ it was SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE like I don’t even know where to begin??? The smut??? That has left me in utter need of Holy Water, because DAMN 🥵 The writing, flow of the story was also just 💯✨

This is my little corner with my own fics— I don’t write that much (I prefer to read), but it would mean a lot to me if you checked out my work or read it. You don’t have to, it’s up to you of course 🥰

⭐Friendcation [110.5k] // myg x f. reader // roadtrip!au/camping!au, f2bfwb2l, mechanic!Yoongi // 🥵🥰😂

📝going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.

🗨️ you might laugh, but this is very special to me because it’s the first long fic I wrote and I wrote it because I missed my sister and brother-in-law (they were going on a roadtrip across Europe, lol).

⭐Learn to Love Again [19.4k ] // myg x f. reader // hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), s2l, slice of life!au // 🌩️👻🥵🥰

📝people always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?

🗨️ this one is quite sad, but I really adore it. I wrote it when I was very depressed, so it’s very heavy in that department 🥲

And as a something little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:

Those Eyes Chico [ongoing series] @kookslastbutton

Burden @casuallyimagining

Pour some sugar on me @yoonia

Turbulence [AO3] by orphan_account

Only Yesterday [completed series] @borathae

Happy birthday to our Lotus flowers, YOONGI!!!! 🥳💜✨

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blackbirdie1234 · 4 months

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Paul's Imprint

What being Paul’s imprint would be like.

A/N: Not proofread. Hope you guys enjoy this and let me know if you would like me to do the other pack members or the Cullens(what being their mates/bloodsingers would be like). I really appreciate all of the likes and reposts! Thank you all so much and I am glad you like my fics :)

Being Paul’s imprint would require A LOT of patience.

He has a soft spot for you, so his anger wouldn’t be taken out on you or directed much toward you, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t see his bad side. When someone in the pack pisses him off he usually gets upset and phases. They fight it out, and then he comes home. He is either still upset or wants serious attention. If it’s the former expect some attitude and him taking it out on basically everything else but you. He might be aggressive with things, slamming things down and being loud. You would probably need to give him some time to cool off some more before trying to comfort him. If it’s the latter then you will have to have a cuddle session, his favorite position is laying in the bed or couch with his head in your chest and you playing with his hair and talking about your day. Your voice soothes him and calms him down, so he likes it when you talk to him. He could care less what you talk about, you could tell him about your day, or how much you hate that one girl in your math class because she chews gum loudly, you could literally talk about anything and he would be content.

Being Paul’s imprint means a lot of love and affection.

When he isn’t on patrol, he is with you. He will be on you and hugging you all of the time. Now if you have trauma with affection or just don't like to be touched he would 100% respect your boundaries, but he would try and find small ways to show and get affection. Like holding your hand or even just touching his pinky against yours when you are next to each other. He would find ways that wouldn’t make you uncomfortable and was still getting his needs met. He doesn’t mind showing his affection in front of others either, he could give less of a fuck if the pack teases him. He loves you and doesn’t care who knows it. At the beginning of your relationship, he was very careful, learning what you liked and what you disliked. He was also very subtle with his affection but he still craved it just as much as he does now. He would softly play with the hair on the back of your head while talking by the fire, small and soft touches here and there, he would DEFINITELY do that thing where guys softly touch your waist while moving behind you.

Being Paul's imprint means you would spend a lot of time with the other imprints.

You would probably be close with the other imprints. Having a werewolf boyfriend isn’t exactly normal. You might feel alone or lost a bit in the beginning. Paul was one of the first to phase, which means you most likely were also one of the first imprints. Especially if you knew Paul before the transition. Emily was one of the first imprints you met, she was so sweet and welcoming to you, and your bond turned into a sibling relationship. She treated you like family right away and made sure you knew that you were always welcome. You met the others as they became a part of the family and now you spend a lot of your time with them. You do a bunch of group things together, shopping, baking, cooking, movie nights, and of course bonfires. You all enjoy each other's company. The boys are on patrol a lot and it helps everyone get their minds off of missing them.

Being Paul’s imprint means late-night texts and calls.

Again, the boys are on patrol any time of the day or night. When Paul takes the night shift he makes sure to update you and let you know that he is safe. He is also expecting the same from you. He misses your voice, especially when your schedule gets busy and you can’t see each other as much. Sometimes he’s able to slip away for a second to see you, give you a hug and a kiss and then he is back out patrolling. He does it more often if he is patrolling near your house, mainly so he can do it quickly before Sam notices that he is missing and makes him come back.

Being Paul’s imprint means he is VERY protective of you.

He is already a protective person, it doesn’t matter if it is his friend, family, or even a stranger. He will take a bullet for someone he doesn’t know, it’s just in his nature. For you on the other hand, he would take that bullet and then hunt the person who shot it down until they beg you for forgiveness for even daring to THINK about hurting you, all the while he is still bloody and hurt. His protectiveness also correlates with his jealousy. He is a very jealous person when he is in a relationship. Even though you are his imprint he still can’t help but let the green-eyed monster loose whenever another person hits on you or checks you out. He knew you were hot, but you were for his eyes only. Being a werewolf means having to control your anger, but Paul was never really good at that, so most of the time it was you who had to calm him down. You didn’t want your boyfriend to maul someone, especially not in public. You were the only person who could calm him down fully, you would reach for him with your soft touch and everything else would fade away. Sometimes all you had to do was give him a stern look and he would cool himself off not wanting to make you upset. It bothered you sometimes how angry he would get, you tell him all the time that he is the only one for you and he has nothing to worry about but he still lets his jealousy get in the way of reasoning.

#twilight #twilight imagine #twilight saga #new moon #the twilight saga #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolves #twilight wolfpack #wolf pack #jacob black #embry call #embry call imagine #embry call x reader #sam uley #vampire

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recaltera · 3 months

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pretty when you beg

pairing: enzo vogrincic x fem reader

🏷 smut (minors dni) teasing, underwear kink(?), oral (f rec), overstim, orgasm countdown, orgasm control, hard dom enzo and kinda mean enzo if u squint, spitting

a/n: (IMPORTANT!!) hiii this is my first fic ever i hope u like it :D if u wanna i can also translate into spanish so more people can read it. please let me know what u think and if u have any requests let me know in the ask box thingy, i write for everyone in lsdln’s cast. tyvm !! have a good day/night mwah ♡

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ꙳⭒ ༒ ✧⋆

deep breaths was all that could be heard, his lips trailing down from your neck to your abdomen. leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way to your clothed cunt.

he kept teasing you tonight, you went out to celebrate your three months together and instead of being all romantic and lovey-dovey, he was whispering the dirtiest things into your ears. but to be honest, you weren’t complaining at all, that’s one of the many things you loved about him, how dirty he could get, even in the most innocent occasions.

— going to fuck you so good tonight, angel.

all you could do was blush and giggle it off.

so here he was kissing your clit through your black laced panties you wore just for him tonight over and over again. it felt so good, yet it wasn’t enough, you needed more.

— enzo, please

he used his thumb to rub over your lips, something he did when he wanted you to open your mouth for him, wether it meant he wanted you to suck him off, or just make you suck in his fingers. however, this time he leaned over to spit in your mouth. and you gladly opened up and swallowed for him.

— shut the fuck up.

you kept bucking your hips into his face, but to no avail cause he ended up pinning you to the mattress, with his slender, pretty fingers sprawled out on your stomach. the fingers you oh so wanted somewhere else. the fingers you had spent HOURS thinking about.

as he was busy making out with your clothed pussy, kissing and sucking here and there, making the lace panties wet with his saliva. you were getting desperate to feel something, anything. you took his fingers into your own hands and guided them where you needed him the most.

— nuh uh, i want you to cum because of my mouth tonight.

you groaned when he finally took your panties off and kissed your inner thighs… slowly. still teasing you.

— fuck please, please, give me something.

and so he did, he kissed your now bare clit and started sucking on it like a desperate, starved man. the sounds he made while eating u out were like music to your ears.

he kept alternating between licks and flicks to your bud until you came, kissing your clit over and over to ride out your high. just to get off the bed and look for your favorite vibrator. he put it on a medium speed and pressed it lightly over your clit making you moan a little too loud from the overstimulation.

— s’too much enzo, no. no. no. no, stop it.

but he knew you didn’t want him to stop, if you did actually want that you would have used your safe word. he knew how fucking greedy you were. how no matter how many times he made you cum, if he wanted you to cum again then that’s what you’d do. you’d do anything to please him. anything for him.

he pressed it harder and started dragging it along your folds only stopping once the toy was on your clit again. he loved seeing your fucked out face, and how just by playing with the bundle of nerves he could get you to look like a mess; legs sprawled out and open for him, cunt red and glistening with your own juices and his spit. it was quite the sight if you asked him.

once you had relaxed and let him have his way with you for a couple of minutes, he used his index finger to put the toy on the highest setting. making the vibrations buzz around your whole body. making you shake because of the pleasure he was providing you.

he knew you were close, he already knew every part of your body, what you liked and what you didn’t. how to make u cum, how to get you on your knees for him, and how you reacted when you were about to hit your orgasm, so without moving the toy away from you, he leaned down, sticking his tongue inside of u going in and out at a fast pace. making you close your legs around his head for that extra feeling. you were so close to the edge, literally about to let go when he says;

— you cant cum until i say so.

he proceeded to begin with his 10 second countdown he loved to do when he wanted you to beg and cry for him. he loved hearing how desperate you were to cum for him. how pretty you looked with tears in your eyes.

“10… 9…”

— m’so close please

you could literally feel the tears in your eyes.

“8… 7… 6…”

— i don’t think i’ll last, please let me cum

“5… 4… 3…“

— please please please

“2…“

— fuck enzo

“1…”

— cum baby, make a mess for me, hm?

you came, you came so fucking hard letting him guide you through it.

— good job, angel. hope you are aware of the fact that we are not finished yet. or is my little doll too dumb to think right now?

he said with a pout on his lips, faking sympathy at your fucked out state. and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want whatever the fuck it was this beautiful man standing in front of you wanted to give you.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ꙳⭒ ༒ ✧⋆

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anadiasmount · 4 months

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my angel - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: being due to a gala in less than an hour, jude finds out a tiny secret you had, faced with the options of not going or having to cope with an angel that stood beside him all nigh...

wc: 1.2k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa🗣️: small fic/ blurb because i could not focus on the other one i was writing... let me know if you'd like a part two bc I have a request that fits perfectly with this one :PPP like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

“baby? you in here? we have to leave soon,” you could hear jude approach the room as you continued to stare at yourself in the mirror. you’d gone out with the girls earlier that day, having breakfast and sharing laughs then went shopping to get new clothes for the year. along with some other products you needed, with that purchase, you had the chance to stop by a lingerie store. you rarely bought the flimsy and intimate fabrics, but when you did, it was always an experience.

jude’s never seen you in lingerie, just your undergarments when you changed or took off your clothes. when you bought lingerie you kept it hidden and wore it for yourself to feel confident and sexy, you had many sets but the one you wore right now had by far become your favorite. it felt soft and silky, rich and smooth against your skin, not like other fabrics that irritated or felt tight on you.

it hugged your figure perfectly, pushing your boobs and making them sit pretty in the lacy padded flowery bra, the thong accentuating your hips and waist and giving you the hourglass figure. the thigh lace garters were attached to your waist belt, a thin band going around you, and small suspenders attached to each side. in some way it had elongated your legs, giving you the appearance to look taller, it could also be the heels.

you could hear jude approach the room way closer, giving you no time to react or change when he walked in. you bit the inside of your bottom lip, fingers pinching the nail beds in your other hand nervous and anxiously, shifting your weight from one foot to another as he stood by the doorway watching you. jude wore a suit, a fitted suit that embraced the built figure that he had grown over the few months, veins decorating his hands as they clenched tightly.

he slowly approached, his shoes tapping against the tiled floor, fingers coming to his chin as his eyes roamed your almost exposed figure. he had stepped behind you, now looking at your front through the mirror, your eyes meeting full of daze and lust. jude being the public figure he was had been invited to attend a gala, taking you along as his plus one for the evening. the white gown you’d be wearing for the evening hung in the closet, but for now, you wanted to wear this underneath.

“jesus y/n…” jude croaked, his eyes disconnecting from you as he fully took you in. you could feel his eyes leave traces behind, as they wandered from the lacy flowery bra to your thighs clenched together. “what do you think?” you say lowly afraid of your voice and becoming intimidated by his daze on you.

“what do i think?” jude took a silencing pause, “you look absolutely beautiful y/n… like an angel, my angel…” jude replied stepping closer to you as he still towered over you, his fingers tracing from your shoulders down to your hips slowly, goosebumps trailing as he touched. his left hand wrapped your front around your waist, jude took your hair and placed it to the side gently, kissing your shoulder softly and peppering kisses to your neck, nibbling your sweet spot, all the places he had access to.

his heart fluttered hearing you giggle loudly, your hand placed on top of his, “when did you get this? hm?” he asked glancing up to see you cheekily smiling. “today when i went out with the girls! i got it to match with my dress.”

suddenly jude felt like not going, wanting to stay in to appreciate the goddess he had in front of him in all white. it came as a shock to him when he walked in, he’d never seen you in such intimate loungewear that he couldn't process what was happening. he fell in love all over again, wanting to caress the skin and body you had, appreciating what was his. for the night and forever.

“did you get this set only? or other ones as well?”

“i got this one only because my old one was just not giving for me,” you scrunched your nose in disappointment, thinking of the old ivory set that was itchy and rough. “hold on, old one?” jude asked his voice spiking up as it came to a surprise. how many sets did you have? and why were they hidden for so long? he asked himself.

“yes, i have quite a lot in various colors, themes, and designs…” you admit shyly face growing hot, flushing as you have exposed a small secret to your boyfriend. jude couldn't believe that he was hearing, struggling to comprehend the fact you had lingerie all this time, it wasn’t a bad thing, quite frankly the opposite. his innocent girl wasn't so shy. if this was just one of the sets, he could picture the other ones you had. “yeah, we’re not going tonight.”

“jude what? we have to,” you laugh as he slowly turns you around, now chest to chest. although it was impossible, you could feel his heart beat faster as he stared down at you. you looked angelic as he previously said, your eyes giving the impression of a cat eye by the false lashes, lips full and plump by your red lipstick, and cheek contoured by the blush to highlight the details of your face.

beautiful was one of the words jude thought, others he couldn't fully say by being mesmerized by you.

you let his hand wander down to your bum, feeling as he gave it a soft squeeze, fitting perfectly in his palm. “how do you expect me to go out knowing you’re wearing this underneath?” jude asked, kissing the bridge of your nose. “it’s going to drive me mad, angel. i could take you here right now and show you what i think of this,” he said deeply referring to the lingerie.

“but you won’t because we have a place to be at in less than an hour,” you say teasingly, your thumb tracing his facial features, jude relaxing to your touch on him. “you’ll just have to let it drive you mad because we're not going to do a single thing until were back here,” you state firmly, making jude smirk. your hands traveled from his muscles down to his chest to fix the tie that was loose, jude watching your every move.

“you are going have to deal with it, the things you wanna do, hear, all that for the whole night. picture it, me and you, me wearing this while you make me cum? or maybe i am? to give my golden boy his reward?” you tippy-toed whispering into his ear, kissing the lobe as he held your waist firmly, thumbs stroking your sides.

“maybe you just won't be able to resist it, thinking how i am wearing this over my dress. maybe taking me into a restroom, our car, somewhere hidden or private to satisfy that need… either way, you’ll have to be patient because we’re waiting to come back home to do all that, right?” you continued watching as jude struggled to have coherent words.

“yeah, we will see about that, angel…”

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader

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strang3lov3 · 1 year

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strang3lov3’s masterlist

I do not give consent for anyone to copy, plagiarize, translate, or post my work elsewhere for any reason at all. Always ask permission of writers if their work sparks inspiration, and give credit where credit is due.

all fics are f!reader

Joel Miller

One shots

Lookalike - Joel finds your dirty mag and makes you get off in front of him.

Everyday I’m Shufflin’ - Joel is horrified to find out that you cannot shuffle a deck of cards, so he teaches you in a rather unorthodox way.

A Learning Process - When it rains, it pours. Shit hits the fan the first day you’re alone with your infant son, and Joel comforts you.

Tis’ But a Scratch - Too stubborn and proud to admit your mistakes or that you may need Joel’s help sometimes, Joel decides to teach you a lesson.

For Science - Joel helps to alleviate your period cramps. You know, for science.

Sleeping Beauty - Joel realizes you’re dreaming of him and wakes you up in the best way possible (his head between your thighs)

Self-Indulgent Tendencies - (dbf!joel) Joel finds you skinny dipping in his pool, and gives you two options. He can call the cops on you or he can punish you himself. You choose the latter of the two.

Phone a Friend - a story of two assholes and how they resolved their sexual tension (alternatively, Joel is sick of hearing you masturbate night after night)

Death by Flirting - five times you made Joel blush, and when he finally did it back to you.

Cup of Sugar - (dilf!neighbor!Joel) Joel catches you rifling through his belongings when you’re frantically searching for batteries after your vibrator dies.

Joyride - (dbf!joel) when your car breaks down, Joel decides to give you one of his. He just has to make sure you can handle a stick first ;)

Have your cake and eat it too - (brat tamer!joel, mean!joel, dom!joel) when you make joel bust in his favorite pair of jeans, he makes you clean your mess.

Erotic City - adult store owner! Joel helps you learn to make yourself come

Cream (horny husband!joel x reader) Joel is insatiable. He convinces you to get it on at his aunt's house on Thanksgiving. He's also got a lot of dirty Thanksgiving jokes he thought of last year that he's been saving to annoy you.

Fighting Fair - Joel doesn’t know what or who started this fucking thing, but he’s finishing it. Tonight.

Love Spell - (Sex pollen) After eating some mysterious berries, you and Joel spend a very memorable and unexpected Valentine’s Day together

Enjoy the Silence - You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position.

Chevelle - (virginity loss) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money

Play Stupid Games - who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples?

Dirty Laundry - Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.

Series:

Lather (incomplete) When Joel injures his shoulder, he needs your help washing his hair and getting off 🚿🧼💦 part one, part two

Mall Rats(complete) Joel keeps track of you as you search your way through an abandoned mall. You don’t make his job easy. First stop is Victoria’s Secret Part one, part two, part three, part four, halloween special, part five part six, part seven

Brain Scramblies (complete) after sustaining a concussion, you tell Joel how you really feel about him. You don’t remember a thing the next day. Part one, part two

Roman Roy

One shots

Invisible Line- boundary after boundary is crossed when your boss is left with no choice but to share his bed with you.

Updated 05/10/2024

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #strang3lov3 #succession #succession x reader #succession fic #roman roy smut #roman roy x you #roman roy x reader #roman roy #Roman Roy x reader smut

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seventh-district · 3 months

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#it is 5 hrs past my bedtime and i am awake listening to Two Hearts by Dermot Kennedy on loop and crying over Rotating Shifts. again.#i couldn’t resist the urge to read the latest chapter any longer but i knew when i did i’d get like this #so Why did i wait for my period to roll around. i have made. a silly decision lmaooo #i’ve complained abt it before but i’m conflicted about how much more sensitive it makes me #my nightmares usually don’t make me cry but oh i was a Wreck this morning #so why i picked tonight to read the fic that always makes me cry is beyond me #i have never met a fic before that had me in such an intense emotional grip #and it’s fucking hilarious bc it’s not that intense of a story!! like yeah there’s been devastating parts but i’m out here having to-#-take a break every single chapter bc i’ll read one line that hits my inner child like a truck and i have to take a minute to recover #but the whiplash this fic gives me is so fucking funny and the range in the storytelling from comedy to tragedy is just.. *scream-cries*#it has my favorite characterization of Sun and Moon that i have ever seen #this chapter wasn’t even that sad i’m just Making myself sad about it #but on another level it also makes me sad in the sense that i don’t think i’ll ever be able to write something that good..#all that i want out of my writing endeavors is to make one (1) person feel as strongly and as much as RS makes me feel #and i don’t know if i can do that. i don’t know if my writing has what it takes bc i can’t even describe exactly what it is #i don’t think it’s a science that can be replicated. things either connect with someone or they don’t #the way Sun goes from worryingly innocent ‘wdym we can’t invite strangers to live with us?’ ‘wdym we can’t adopt an adult that needs help?’#to fucking. tearing an animatronic in half in a fit of protective rage and blocking access to all dating apps to prevent you from-#-finding anyone else bc he’s your Special Friend and he can’t have his Daydream falling for anyone else!! no no!!#it’s not a new concept but i eat it tf up when Sun is actually the one you should fear the most #like no i don’t think he’d hurt Reader but i dread to think of the things he would do For them #the back and forth between childlike innocence and terrifying intelligence possessiveness and physical capability is just mmmmm 100/10 #and don’t even get me started on Moon. or i Will start crying again #he’s like yeah dumbass of course i’m gonna save you every time some POS man tries to **** you. of course i will you fucking crater-head #but i will complain at you about it the Entire way home and then i will steal your fucking toilet paper and pack you a raw egg for lunch #because i hate you 🖤 but Sun loves you and we would both kill for you 🖤 also i drank all of your chocolate milk 🖤 also i hate you :)#anyways i am paraphrasing obviously and dear god i hope no one who actually reads RS sees this bc i do not want my 2am ramblings taken as-#-any kind of Official Thoughtful Analysis of the story ok pls pls pls let me be insane abt my favorite fic without having to be articulate #i just have so many fucking FEELINGS about them. i am unwell.#i’m not even tagging this i’m just hitting post and going to sleep goodnight

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3lli3l0v3r · 25 days

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how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not.

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual.

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now.

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up.

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks.

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her.

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with.

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.”

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile.

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.”

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face.

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.”

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register.

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals.

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed.

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could.

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow.

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience.

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies.

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future.

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard.

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone.

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission.

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself.

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course.

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire.

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder.

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything.

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be?

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you.

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because.

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now.

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil.

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?”

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?”

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point.

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over.

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often.

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously.

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her.

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment.

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now.

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears.

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.”

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.”

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time.

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed.

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever.

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz.

lovely taggies: @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @amiorca @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @smelliewilliams @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms @ap3arll @bunnyrose01 @elliesactualgirlfriend @paranoiero @sakiigami @4ftergloww @ellstronaut @vqxen @desireesfics @lez-zuha @dyk3ang3l @iluvellie0089 @tphmnv @seraphicsentences @seaseasalts @biblically-accurate-ellie @deliriousrn @pxterpfx + a very special tag to @fleshunger hehe :)

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quaintii · 11 months

Text

Miguel Imagine Part 2

Gif taken from TikTok @almenhenn, not mine. Please check it out!

dom!Miguel x fem!reader

(long fic) :3

Contents: rough sex, choking, hair pulling, slapping, breeding kink, bdsm, oral sex, angry sex, degradation kink, praise kink, angry sex, mating press sex position, sexual tension, mirror sex, nelson position, masturbation, sex toy, fang kink, sir kink, etc.

MDNI.

a/n: sorry if this is quite long, just trying to feed u hungry miguel whores (aka me) this gon be nastyy

You were too anxious to go to his office, but you had to. Every Spider man/woman had to submit in their reports at least every week to Miguel or Lyla because it was a mandatory checkup. You haven’t seen him since that incident, it runs through your mind constantly. You sometimes use your vibrator to relieve yourself of that immense need that you crave so desperately

~Tonight you were pulsing throughout the whole day. You couldn’t stop aching for his touch, you want to go on your knees and beg for him to tease you, to use you like a fucking slut.

You turn on your vibrator and place it on top of your clothed clit, imagining it was his hands opening your folds whilst licking your slickness.

“F-fuck..this feels so painful..” Despite the vibrator making you jerk and twitch and spwel a couple of loud moans, it didn’t feel enough. You really wished he hadn’t stopped that day. You pushed two fingers inside your wet cunt, dragging them in and out slowly while poking that soft spot that made you mewl.

”M-miguel, fuck…I want your cock inside of my pussy..please fuck me until I can’t w-walk..” You say as you start reaching your climax. Your cunt clenching hardly on your fingers as the vibrator finally made your clit release that sweet sensation through your system. You started twitching and moaning, still not removing your vibrator off your clit so you could overstimulate yourself. “Nghnmf..please fill me with your cum Miguel..” You mewl. You then approach your second orgasm, making you hold in your breath and your heartbeat fastening and pulsing loud in your ears, feeling the blood rushing.

You arched your back and rested your head on your pillow, grabbing onto your sheets and palming them on your mouth to prevent you from screaming ecstasy. You then try to steady your breath back in order as you stare directly at your ceiling. Once again, disgusted because you just masturbated about your boss. But you had yet wanted a taste of him.

Today was the day. Your weekly checkup. Unfortunately, Lyla was offline so you couldn’t submit it to her so you had to face him.

As you were getting ready, you dolled yourself a bit but not too excessively to the point someone would weirdly point out. You wore a professional blazer dress with small heels, but allowed your cleavage to pop out a bit. Teasing him was your favorite thing to do. You began approaching his office.

Your heels tapping on the floor, causing echoes to spread across the huge room. Miguel was looking through the perspective cams at the top of his floating floor, you always thought it was stupid that he would slowly go down. “C’mon Miguel, I seriously don’t have all day for you to make this ‘entrance.’ You place two fingers on your nose bridge, sighing. “Should I remind you who makes the rules around here again? I don’t understand what gives you so much balls to talk to me like you command me.” He rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t be so egotistical, Mig..you have to stop being so full of yourself. Work on that. Here are the files, take a look through them and I’ll get going,” Miguel hums and looks back and forth at the files and your face.

“Me? Being full of myself?” He chuckles with a smirk. “How about you work on not looking like a total whore.” You audibly gasp as soon as he blurts out that word. Whore.

"I am one of your employees, you should respect me! I can’t handle your awful behavior sometimes, you’re so annoying.” You say.

“What makes you think that I also can’t fucking stand you whenever you open that fucking mouth of yours?!” He says angrily as he approaches closer to you, towering you. “You really need to be taught manners because you can’t seem to behave.” He glances at your breasts, a shaky sigh leaving his lips.

Miguel is trying his best to restrain himself from breaking you right now because you just look so vulnerable, he wants to take that smug look of yours off your face. Replacing it with him thrusting deep into you, making you not be able to even think a coherent thought.

The way his suit would perfectly shape around his muscles had you pool more into arousal. There was a loud silence between the both of you and you dared not to speak. “I thought you were going to keep up with that bratty attitude? Where’d it go?” He snickered. “Shut the fuck up, Miguel. Forget it, I’m leaving.” You turn your back to face the door, being completely covered in red webs. “Let me out you weird fuck!”

”You see, I’m so frustrated how you always seem to stress me whenever you come inside of this office. You’re going to regret being a fucking brat and learn some manners ‘round here, ‘kay?” Your back hitting the door, your breath hitches as Miguel struts towards you. You try running an opposite direction til you feel a web grab around your waist and place you on a chair.

Your hands now tied up behind your back and your legs separated, also tied to the chair. “L-let me go..now.” You spurt out. “Why should I? I can smell something that says the exact opposite.” He gets closer to your face, lowering himself to your level. “I mean you arrive in that dress of yours to tease me again? Do you even understand how badly I want to rip it off your body?” You shiver a bit from his cold tone. “I’m s–sorry Mig.” Miguel grabs your chin harshly. “Don’t call me that.” His chest heaving a bit more noticeably.

You aruptably gasp as he suddenly spreads your legs, his face getting closer to your clothed cunt. He nibbles and licks your outer thigh. You try not to give him satisfaction and hold in your whines. “You’re still being a brat? Let me hear you, carino. Todavía no vas hacer caso?” (You're still not going to behave?) He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing it slowly. He rips off your panties and licks your wetness with his warm tongue. You still refuse to let out your moans, you resisted the urge to give in even though you desperately wanted to.

”No seas asi, tesoro. No te va encantar lo que te voy hacer si me vuelves ignorar. Quiero escuchar tu sonidos bellos.” (Don't be like that, love. You're not going to like it if you ignore me again. I want to hear your sweet sounds.) He swirled his tongue on your clit and spread your folds with his girthy fingers. Miguel loved seeing you squirm and still attempt to hide your mewls. He rapidly slid in two fingers inside your cunt. You finally let out a choked groan that’s been awaiting to be released from your aching throat.

”Fu-fuck..m-more Miguel.. touch me please.” You whine. “No tan rápido, mi reina.” He slurs as he places his hot mouth onto your pussy. Two fingers inside of you, being pulled in and out in a fast pace while his thumb massaged your clit and his tongue nibbling on your folds.

You lean your head back, accepting into submission. You wanted to cum around his fingers, for him to feel how good he makes you feel and how your cunt would clench so tight around his cock. Miguel rips off your clothes right off your frame, leaving you fully exposed in front of him. His voice groaned as he has a clear view of your curvy body. He moves his head up to suck on your nipples, pushing his tongue on your nipple causing you to twitch. His face was a mix of arousal and anger that still lingered. He moved his fingers slightly quicker, keeping a solid pace.

You felt like you were going to come, the pleasure felt so good and you were yet so needy for more. “Please Mig…make me cum..I can’t hold it in anymore.” You whined. “Please.. I can’t-“ You sobbed, the only thing keeping you in place being his hard grasp on your left hip.

“Please what?” You could feel him grinding against you as his fingers fucked you silly. No matter how badly he wanted to be inside you, he almost prepped you for him. He knew how big he was and how much he could destroy you.

His fingers only went even faster when you said that while he rested his head on your shoulder. He sunk his fangs deep inside your flesh, causing you to spring up and release your orgasm. Your screams and whines echo in the room, begging for him to stop because it was just too much for you. “I thought you could handle this..fuck..”

Your body was overtaken by a wave of electricity flowing through your veins. Your body shaking and your cunt throbbing. Your vision is blurred out with tears. You’ve never felt so breathless. Miguel loved how your pussy spasmed and clenched so tight on his fingers. He pulled out his fingers and sucked them clean. Seeing that explicit look of him only made you want more. “You taste so fucking good, so sweet. You’re such a fucking good girl for cumming around my fingers.” He whispers as he presses his lips onto yours. Both of your tongues are destroying each other, the both of you becoming breathless.

Miguel removed the webs tied around you and placed you right on top of his table. You look at him through your teary lashes, your mouth agape. “I want to taste you Miguel, I want to taste your fucking cock around my throat.” That alone was enough for Miguel to force you down onto your knees and slam his cock inside of your warm throat. You choke around his sudden thrusts pick up fast. Your tongue swirls around his length, taking all of him in your mouth. “Your mouth is made just for me, only mine. You’re such a dirty whore, taking me all like a fucking slut..” He groan and his head rolls back.

His hands run along your hair, grabbing it to push you deeper onto his cock. Small tears trickling past your cheeks. The gurgling and slurping you were making made Miguel harden, along with small whimper sounds parting from Miguel’s lips were the only noise around you both, it just made you even wetter.

You loved how his cock would repeatedly twitch inside your throat, so you hollow your cheeks which make him loudly groan and jerk his hips harder.

Your moans would make his cock feel so fucking amazing as it would make your mouth clench around his cock. He looked down at you, seeing how good of a slut you were taking him. He loved seeing you under him like this, taking him so well he thought. You clawed your fingernails deep into thighs, tapping on them so you could take a chance to catch your breath. “Miguel, please just put it in..” You moaned, reaching back to swirl your hands around his tip, getting a lovely groan out of him. You lowered your head on to him once more, teasing his tip with your tongue as your right hand pumped his cock all the way from the base to your mouth. You kept a close eye on him though, making sure he didn’t cum.

He immediately removed your mouth from his cock. That’s when you felt his bare cock teasing your entrance, covering himself in you. His voice was low and husky, laced with want. “I’m going to fill this pretty pussy of yours.”

Miguel didn’t want to cum inside of your mouth, he wanted to pump his hot cum deep inside your womb. He wanted to breed you like an animal. He quickly pulled you back up from your knees, placing your legs on his shoulders. You were now in a mating press position. He slammed his hips against yours, reaching your cervix.

Miguel could get a perfect view of his dick aligned with your warm cunt, how your cunt would suck him perfectly. Your eyebrows furrowed as you cried out, taken back by his cock pounding up into you. You slumped down, resting your head on his shoulder, to cock drunk to do anything else. "F-Fuck you're so good at this!" You shriek when he had his fingers pinching each of your nipples as he bit on the soft spot of your neck.

"Mm, I know, cariño." The way he whispered in your ear made you shiver above him. You held onto his arms but at some point Miguel slipped one arm down, rubbing your clit to increase the tension as he thrusted deep inside you. You were so cock-drunk, you couldn’t let out any word besides moans.

Miguel altered your positions so you were now facing a mirror. “You like it, huh, cariño?" He growled as his pace fastened deeper into your cunt. The sight of him fucking you in the mirror drove you crazy, crazy that you were clenching so tight - “You’re my little dirty slut aren’t you, muñeca?” "Yes sir, I love your cock inside of my f-fucking pussy..."

"Say that one more time and I'll have you screaming my name. He said dangerously.

"Please sir. Let me…" He pulled away from you and flipped you over so you were now underneath him. Still in front of the mirror, MIguel grabbed your throat, pulling it so you could arch your back.

Miguel moaned as you clenched your walls around him, the feeling of heat as your bodies collided driving you crazy. Your nails scratching at nothing but the floor. He plants his lips onto your sensitive neck, leaving it bruised for later.

Each thrust deepens, stronger and more irresistible. Miguel wrapped his hands around your neck, making you choke but excited at the same time. You looked in the mirror to see Miguel in such an erotic position on top of you. It was hot. Your walls clenching around him makes Miguel stutter his hips against your back, finally painting your plushy walls, white. The overwhelming feeling leaving you completely breathless, your body twitching and moving without your control. Your chest heaving heavily as you gasped for air. You eventually pass out.

You wake up to a warm feeling spreading across your body. You open your eyes hazily, turning your head towards Miguel who's massaging your back with oil. You let out a soft groan, it felt so relieving. You haven't been this relaxed since..ever. "Estás despierta muñeca?" (You're awake, doll?) You hum, resting your face on the pillow. "Hope you liked it." Miguel chuckled. "You left me with numb legs so I loved it. Gracias, Miguel." (Thank you, Miguel.) You say. "Te nada, mi vida." (Your welcome, my love.) The tension between of you finally cleared and your relationship grew closer than ever.

Taglist: @spid3rslvt @horror-cassettes @cl-0-vr @mars-yyy

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