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#sexworker!reader
hoedamn-eron · 1 year
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pony
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Your favourite regular always makes it for your last dance.
Warnings: 18+ for adult themes, no smut though. Like, one swear word. I'm not sure how strip clubs/dancing clubs work, so apologies for that, I've just taken a guess at them. This has, in fact, been proofread, but there's probably still mistakes. Word count: 1,094 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.
A little drabble posting in the interim of He Found the Box of Condoms Part 3 and my Santi x Reader series.
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“Hey,” your name was called by your co-worker. “Your boy’s here.”
You couldn’t help the smile creep across your face. Being a client’s favourite meant easy tips and an easy shift; they usually pay well so the boss wouldn’t mind if you kept your client busy all night. You were still relatively new to the club so you only had the one favourite client.
He was running very late today, but that wasn’t new. He was taxi driver, so his hours were unpredictable, but he always knew when your shifts were, and he always made it before it ended. You were about to go on stage for your final dance of the night before you made your way home (he’d probably give you a lift).
You gave yourself a final spray of that new perfume you had wanted (vanilla scented – your favourite) and made your way to the stage as Pony played loudly from the speakers. It was cheesy, you agreed, but it was always a fun song to end the night, and you were feeling a little playful, especially now. You swung your hips as you took the steps to the stage, giving a seductive grin to the patrons who were already cheering you on.
Your eyes subtly scanned the room and there he was, sat towards the back in one of the red velvet armchairs, in his usual immaculate suit and his gloved hand wrapped around the whiskey tumbler as his eyes trained on you, a small smirk of his own on his face as he tipped his newsboy cap at you.
Jake Lockley was a little rough around the edges, but a true gentleman.
He first came in on your third week on the job. Like every other time he’d come in, he’d ordered a whiskey and took a seat away from the stage, before requesting a private dance in the back. That night, you were urged by the other dancers to be ‘the one’ that night, as a rite of passage in a way. He had made you nervous, at first; you were a greenie, and he was intimidating, in his fine suit and leather gloved hands (which you did not imagine touching you in all the best ways). But he put you at ease, telling you that he wasn’t expecting your best, he just appreciated pretty people. You had blushed at his words, which caused him to chuckle.
It seemed Jake had taken a liking to you, since he asked for you again the week after. And the week after that, and again the week after that.
That had been four years ago. He had asked you in the past if you would ever leave, and you’d answered honestly, “I make more in four days than others do in a month; why would I ever leave?”
He’d given you his signature smirk at that before offering you a ride home.
You reach the end of the stage, where the pole is secured to the ground. It’s cold to the touch and you swing your way around it, leg hooking over and you give the patrons a sultry look, biting your lip in a grin. You slide to the floor before settling on all fours before stretching your upper body, rolling your hips as the song thrums through your body, vibrating through you. You loved the thrill it gave you; knowing that you were the sexiest thing in the room and no-one could touch you.
You catch Jake’s eye as the other patrons throw their money at you. He’s always so unreadable, sitting in the back with his casual gaze on you. You felt your skin prickle and you suddenly felt so hot, despite your lack of clothing. He looked at you as though he was opening you up, reading your every thought.
You were so incredibly turned on by it.
You don’t break contact as you dance and sway to the music, your hands playing with your hair, throwing your head back as you rock your hips. You always loved putting on a show for Jake, on stage and his requested private dances, and you had no shame in admitting it. You knew nothing would happen between the two of you, but your little day dreams never hurt anyone.
The song came to an end and you ended it by swinging around the pole and ending in the splits on the floor, the notes still falling around you. You grin at the patrons before giving them a thank you and walking down the stage, swaying your hips again. You couldn’t wait to take these shoes off, and wipe off your make up, and get comfortable before going home. You see security collecting your notes from the stage and placing them in your designated bag as you go backstage as the next dancer is called.
You thank security as you pass them back towards the main floor, where they will place your bag of notes by your locker. You make your way over to Jake, who was already stood from his chair, looking at you with that grin on his face.
“You’re a little late,” you said, running your hand down his arm as you pout.
“Sorry, baby, I’ve been busy,” Jake replied. “Had to get the limo out, lots of hen dos tonight.”
“But you still made time for me,” you mutter, biting your lip as you grin at him.
Jake huffed a laugh through his nose. “Don’t I always?”
“I’m about to get off,” you grin at the double entendre. “But I can still give you a private show.”
Jake hummed as he smiled at you. “Would you like that here or at your place?”
That was bold of him. You both had flirted in the past, of course, it practically comes with the job, but there was something always unspoken between you and Jake. You were probably a little naïve, falling for a customer the way you did, and like you said before, Jake was a gentleman, and you knew him better than the other customers. But he’d never been so…outright like that. But Jake Lockley wasn’t a regular client…clients don’t offer the dancers lifts home after their shifts.
“Are you inviting yourself over to my place, Jake?”
Jake nonchalantly shrugged a shoulder. “If you’ll have me.”
Oh God, he was the most beautiful fucking man you have ever met. Why in God’s name would you pass this up?
You hum and you lean into him, your eyes hooded. “Take me home, Lockley.”
“Anything for you, doll.”
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Tagged - @eonnyx, @transparent-shark
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uselesssomebody · 2 years
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𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕤 - eddie munson x sex worker!reader (nsfw)
complete masterlist | stranger things masterlist | eddie munson masterlist
“𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕖𝕣” - her | chase atlantic
words || 𝟞𝕜
summary || in which eddie spends a night with a woman of the night - who's also his ex best friend
a/n || it is so embarrassing that a white man has a chokehold on me like this. you're a special breed, joe quinn, you are. god put some garam masala in you for sure. also this is kinda dogshit hahaha. more eddie tho, so strap in ➵ ! allusions to smut ! , making in 18+ content. please do NOT interact if you are under 18 ➵ not yet proofread ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!
warnings || fluff/smutty for like a minute/angst ➵ like super non-descriptive smut for a minute (though it is still 18+ babe, don't try anything, minors)➵ !disclaimer! reader's a sex worker, so some things about that are mentioned. this is not a glamorous take on the life style, and it also bounded by the norms of the 80s. the opinions of the characters on sex work are not my own: it is a totally normal, real job that should be respected. understand that this is through a certain lens for the point of storytelling
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her hands absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of the skirt she was wearing. it wasn’t exactly like the pristine, white and green clothes that the cheerleaders wore, though it was just as short. no, it was a dark navy, and it didn’t exactly have attached athletic shorts.
similarly, the tank-top she was wearing wasn’t exactly made for the september weather, with the occasional smattering of goosebumps appearing on her arms, even in the warmer classroom. she didn’t make any attempt to cover herself though; instead, she was reminded to stick her chest out just a little bit further and to fix her posture.
she could feel several pairs of eyes looking at her, and she placed a look of innocent focus on her face, staring up at the teacher, though she could not care less about what he was saying. finally, she turned her head just a slightest bit to see the guy next to her staring at her tits almost unashamedly, and, when he caught her eye, she tried to return his bright smile. gross.
but she supposed this was all part of it - the job. advertise the goods, reel in customers, get ‘em to really stick. it worked well enough, and she usually had the ability to rake in a solid income of 30 to 50 dollars on most days. it was enough to pay the bills anyways.
she heard the bell ring, and she was out of her seat smoothly. knowing the guy behind her had been ogling all lesson, she bent over slightly as she gathered the rest of her things, walking out of the room with a forced but subtle sway to her hips. just routine, really.
she reaches her locker with just a few glances thrown in her direction, and she almost immediately notices the upside-down envelope at the bottom of her locker. she doesn’t look at it right away, though, knowing its contents already, as she instead focuses on putting her notebook away.
finally, she flips the paper over, being careful to make sure it can’t be seen by any particularly curious passer-bys. the front’s also blank, so she slips her fingers into the unsealed opening, fumbling until she feels three separate pieces of paper. pulling them out, she realizes she’s holding two 5 dollar bills, and a note.
down payment. boiler room alleyway. - c.r.
it was from a regular, and she pressed her newly acquired 10 bucks into the bottom of her hand bag. the small mirror she had hung on the door of her locker was what she then used to fix her appearance, tousling her hair so that it fell better over her face, reapplying a thick layer of mascara to her eyes, and applying a darker shade of red to her lips. the product transferred easily - which was actually preferable for her, as guys adored seeing those red stains.
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she had a slight headache as she walks towards the back alley between the school building and the boiler room. no one ever came in there, and it had become the base of most of her operations.
chase was waiting for her there, with a smile that screamed that he was just a little too excited. she placed her handbag down as she neared him, and let out a small ‘oomph!’ as he pulled her into a hug. he was always one of the more touchy ones, but she could hear the crinkle of bills in his pocket, so she breathed a sigh of relief as she let his hands travel from their conservative hold of her waist and down to cup her ass. she lets out a fake, playful gasp, as if he didn’t do this every time.
he ate it up, though.
he’d handed her the money as soon as he’d let her go, tapping his foot rather impatiently as she placed the remaining 30 dollars into her bag.
he’s always a little rough with her after that, not even pulling his trousers down past his ass and not doing much more than letting her unbutton the top two of her blouse, pulling her tits so that they rested over the constricting fabric. her knees hit the gravelly pavement with some force, knowing her tights would, at best, be quite dusty when she stood back up.
she knew his type, only paying for a blowjob and rushing his way through it, leaving her chin glossy and her jaw sore, with a lopsided, though satisfied, grin on his face. he worried almost as much about someone seeing them and his reputation being ruined as he did about actually getting his rocks off.
she had a packet of tissues in her bag that she reached for as he zipped himself back up, taking another moment to collect himself.
“goddamn, that was money well spent.” she smiled, but it didn’t really feel like a compliment.
“duly noted, chase. you know i have other options, right?” she did, with different rates for different acts. he never seemed to differ from this one, though.
“next thursday?” he ignored her prompt, and she pursed her lips at his response.
“if you bring the cash.”
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when she was 5 years old, she wanted to be a fairy princess. she would prance around, swaddled in her blankets to mimic a ballgown, with a spoon in her hand to mimic a wand, and with a thick hoop-shaped toy from when she was a little younger balanced precariously on her head, to mimic a crown. her father would play with her as she pretended to enchant him, as her mother would add decorations to her adorable ensemble.
when she was 12, she wanted to be an astronaut, with galaxy-themed pictures littered all over her room. she’d read every book the library had to offer on space, and had watched vhs after vhs about the moon landings. she had just the ittiest, bittiest little crush on neil armstrong, but she found him more to be cool that anything else. her mother would walk her to the library to rent out the books, and her dad would go to family video to find movies centered on sci-fi and space, and they’d all watch star-trek reruns on the weekend.
when she was 14, she wanted to be a teacher, as she’d begun to tutor some younger kids. her mother worried for her, but she worried more for herself. her father didn’t care where she’d been. he didn’t care about anything except his younger colleagues anymore.
when she was 16, she wanted to graduate. she wanted to get into college, maybe travel and visit california, before settling down somewhere that felt like home, a small town just like hawkins - as long as it wasn’t hawkins. her mother would work late nights and curse at her as she tried to clean up the deteriorating house. her father had stopped calling a year ago.
when she turned 18, she’d been kicked out of her house with just a suitcase and 100 bucks to her name.
it wasn’t too bad, though, enough for rent for a few months in a house on the outskirts of town as she tried to figure out what she could do to work. she’d debated finding a minimum wage job - maybe a clerk, or a fast-food employee, or baby-sitting. that had been until she read about something in a rather taboo magazine - sex work.
she was, frankly, disgusted by the notion, until she realized how much it paid. if you had an audience - that is - and, unfortunately, she did. she was subject to hoots and whistles anytime she’d walk past her male classmates, her assets drawing the attention of every shitty guy in a mile radius.
that’s where it had started - teasing guys until they’d be willing to pay to have sex with her. word traveled fast, and her small business had become successful over the past few months. her clients included regulars, guys who wanted to lose their virginity, guys with frigid girlfriends, guys with no game, and guys who had a lot of money to blow.
the women of hawkins high hated her. the men degraded her. she clutched the bills in her hand a little tighter, remembering what it was all for, as the cold air sliced into her arms once again. her eyes prickled as she thought of that sweet 5 year old she once was, sighing softly.
being a fairy princess is overrated anyways.
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eddie could tell she was cold.
he could tell that no one else was noticing that - and why would they? they were admiring her beauty, as he had done so many times before. he supposed it was different, though, as he knew their appreciation was one only interested in the superficial: the swell of her tits and the curve of her ass. he liked to think his was just a little bit more intimate, as he thought about how nice the slightly crude flower nail art was on her nails, or how her pencil was definitely tapping along to the rhythm of crazy little thing called love.
how did he know that?
well, because it had somehow remained a song that she loved for the past 6 years. impressive, he knows, but he gets it. queen does have that effect on people. he still remembers handing her the cassette with that song as the first track, watching her face morph from slight unsure to excitement as the song continued playing. she’d given him a big hug after that, joyously telling him that she couldn’t wait to hear the rest of it.
sure, they hadn’t talked for nearly 3 years now, but that wasn’t really anyone’s fault. some people just drift apart, you know?
she and eddie had never exactly been attached at the hip, but they did talk a lot in middle school. he’d been two grades above her, and he’d always acted as more of a guide than anything when they’d first met. feeling decidedly lost in one of the school hallways, he had been the one to help her back to class. when feeling unsure what exactly to look for in the library, he’d given her a ton of suggestions. and when she had sat on the hill behind the recess playground, crying because of a bully, he had tentatively put an arm around his shoulder, trying to console her with soft words and light jokes.
they had become close friends - as close as you could be in middle school, when you didn’t share classes. she remembered being heartbroken when he’d gotten a buzzcut, already missing his long, wavy locks. he remembered her, very poorly trying to play guitar, and him helping her to learn her first chord just as she was about to give up.
eddie sometimes wondered who the girl in his history class was, considering how different she was from his middle-school friend. she’d stopped speaking to him when he was about 16, and she was 14, and he’d noticed her coming to school with sullen faces, and ever-present, faint black mascara streaks on her cheeks. she stopped speaking to - well - everyone by then, and, to the rest of hawkins high, she’d sort of just faded into the wall.
not for him, though. he’d always wonder if she was alright, but she never gave him the chance to ask.
then, as she finally stepped up to join him as a senior, the student body collectively found a renewed interest in her. at first, he attributed it to her sudden change in style and behavior, but, through word-of-mouth, he was quick to realize that that was only a small, small part of it.
he had been shocked by the career choice, as he never really imagined the girl he knew - the girl that so badly wanted to be an astronaut - to make it. he didn’t really care, though - figuring it was her choice, until he realized - nay, remembered - just how sad she seemed all the time.
he remembered the genuine smile she’d beamed when he’d given her a small saturn keychain to her on her 13th birthday. he wished he’d see it again.
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care to meet an old friend? you’ll find me at the forest clearing behind the football field, 3:30.
the note’s eccentric, and the handwriting’s a little erratic. she could tell this wasn’t one of her regulars, as they always tended to be more direct with their messages, and almost always made sure to include a down payment. this note had neither, and it ended up infiltrating her thoughts constantly through the rest of the day.
finally, when the clock had struck 3:00, she found a little bit of a bounce in her step as she made her way to her locker. she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something about the note screamed fun, exciting. she hadn’t had that in ages. and - to be quite frank - there was something childish about it all. she knew it was a little odd to think, considering what the she figured the note-writer would want from her, but she clung on to that innocence as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
without too much attention to her surroundings, she slowly - discreetly - made her way to the football field, around its fence, and to the small trail that led into the woods behind it. she listened to the soft crunch of leaves behind her feet, listening to the small melodies of birds in the distance.
finally, she finds the spot - a secluded, as described in the note, forest clearing with a bench at the center of it. she looks around and, seeing no one, places her bag down, sitting at the edge of the bench. she glances down at her nails, picking nervously at a hangnail. she cringes a little at the splotchy daisy design that she had attempted to make on them. when she’d finally finished it over the weekend, she’d been real proud of it, but as the days continued, she found herself hating it.
she’d spaced out, so she doesn’t have much time for a reaction between hearing footsteps behind her and whipping around. so, instead, her mystery guest places a light hand on her shoulder to guide her look at them.
she gasps in shock at the sudden touch, but she wished she’d saved it for when she’d actually seen them, as her jaw hung open at the face staring back at her.
his black, curly hair was the same as how it had been in middle school, and the smile lines around his smirk was something she still remembered. though, since then, he had grown quite a few inches, and he had just the slightest fuzz of facial hair on his obviously-not-shaved face.
“eddie?” it escapes her in a whisper, but it cuts like a foghorn through the silence.
she gulps, realizing that the job had finally caught up to her. as she looked into his big, doe eyes - the same eyes that she looked into whenever she needed guidance, help, or consolation - and she knew she couldn’t treat him like everyone else.
she couldn’t casually give him a blowjob, or have sex with him. it would hurt her heart too much.
“yeah, hi! how’re you doing?” oh, god, he was talking as if they were good friends, like they’d remained speaking for the past 3 years, like he wasn’t here simply to fulfill his needs. she felt her jaw clench just slightly, in the hopes of not letting a tear escape her.
“i’m fine. my rates are -” as she’s ready to list her regular prices, he stops her by a sudden gesture of reaching and digging into the front pocket of his jeans. he procures a very crumpled note that he’s then pressing into her hand. she looks down in shock, seeing a crinkly 50 dollar bill in her palm.
“uh, i hope that’s enough - i didn’t really know, uh-” she shakes her head, clearing her mind as she pulled her hair into a shallow bun as she reached to unclasp the buttons of her blouse.
“it’s enough, you’re fine.” she knows she’s being far too forward and - honestly - a little pushy, but she wants to just get it over with so that she doesn’t cry in front of him.
“wait - wait, stop.” he lightly grabs at her hands, that were making their way down to her skirt, and he’s got a look of shock on his face when he looks back up at her. his eyes are trained harshly on her hands, as if he’s trying very hard not to let his gaze wander to her chest, “you don’t have to do that.” her mouth falls open a bit in confusion.
“it’s - it’s what you paid for, munson.” he cringes at the use of his last name, the formality of her sentence making the air around them just a little bit more frigid.
“no, i don’t want to do that.” he finally lets go of her hands, gesturing that she can re-button her blouse, as he looks away, threading his fingers through his hair, “i’m paying you that money for your time.”
“my - my what?”
“your time. i just wanna spend some time with you.” the last part’s a little fumbled, and she knows why: this was far out of the realm of what she usually offered.
“spend some time with me? munson, i don’t know-”
“eddie, and you’re fine. i just need ya for a night.” she looked down at the bill in her hand, before shaking her head.
“i - uh, i can’t take this, please just-” she pressed it back into his hand but he didn’t grip it.
“how much will it be? because i really can’t afford over 70-”
“no, no - i can’t charge you for spending time with you! i’m not even giving you anything.”
“you don’t need to-”
“eddie-” he smiled at the switch of moniker, “you’re not paying for anything.” she tried to reason with him, not wanting to look at his face for fear of that soft, understanding expression being on it.
“i am.” she closed her eyes, sucking in a sharp breath.
“look, i’ll spend the evening with you. but you are not paying me.” she curled his fingers around the bill, moving back before he had a chance to give it back to her, “alright?” he looked at her with a small smile, before nodding.
“deal.”
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he’d driven them out of the school lot after that, as she fiddled with her sleeves. they weren’t talking much - well, he was trying to start conversation: about his hobbies, about things to do together, about how she was doing. her answers were curt, as a bubble was growing in her throat, and she really didn’t want to cry in front of him.
but how could she stop it? she’d had the biggest crush on the senior since they’d met all those years ago, thinking that he was the kindest, funniest, most talented person in their school. he’d let her ramble and ramble about her various interests, he’d introduced her to good music, he’d entertained her as she, transfixedly, watched him play guitar. he’d been there when she’d been hurting - and even at the very beginning of her parent’s split, letting her stay at his place, or do things with him during those first few months of arguing.
but it was too much. when the arguments had happened once or twice a month, she wasn’t too guilty about sharing the burden with her close friend. but, when they started becoming a weekly (and then a daily) occurrence, she couldn’t continue exploiting his kindness. she couldn’t bear exploiting anyone, owing to her sudden seclusion.
the tape he’d given her - made by yours truly, as he put it - was what she’d listen to all the time, finding the music on the player give her a sense of soothing in her otherwise tumultuous life. it wasn’t as good as the sense of soothing he gave her but, once again, it felt like she was imposing on him.
and did it become so damn hard to see him in the school hallways, pretending she hadn’t seen him and, even if she had, that she didn’t care? it was the worst thing in the world, especially as she saw that the small greetings and waves he through her way fading until his only acknowledgement of her was the occasional glance in her direction. and she couldn’t even complain, as it was all her own fault.
“how’s your mom?” the question takes her out of her thoughts, as it rings out over the soft melody on the radio. when eddie had heard of her father’s initial actions, he’d tried to help her out, which included become acquainted enough with her mother in order to convince the older woman that he wanted to help her daughter. it had worked - which is why her mother had entertained the friendship for that long - and he was always asking to make sure both women were alright. of course, he didn’t know who her mother had become.
“i - uh, i don’t know.” her voice is quiet, and her words are mumbled. out of her peripheral, she can see a look of confusion wash over his face and, out of his peripheral, he can see that she’d become significantly more uncomfortable and upset, and he dropped the subject immediately. instead, he stopped his van in front of the middle of town, a little establishment she’d been previously familiar with in front of her.
“what movies you like? you still a fan of e.t.?” even after her astronaut phase, e.t. had been a comforting classic that he’d been kind enough to go watch with her in theaters. he doesn’t miss the fraction of a smile that graces her lips, nor does he miss the way her eyes light up. he’s quick to get out of his seat, walking over to her side and helping her out in his common, gentlemanly manner. he leads her into the building, ducking his head as he walks in.
immediately, he greets the two clerks, both of whom had been obviously goofing off just a few seconds earlier. there’s no one in there except the four of them, and he’s already striking up a conversation with them. for a moment, she zones out, looking around at the lined shelves of movie rentals.
“- and this is my friend-” he gestured to her, and then individually pointed out the two clerks, introducing them to her. they both smile widely at her, and she’s a little confused. she wasn’t used to positive reactions to her - and she knew that at least the blonde, robin, knew about her, as they shared a history class together.
nonetheless, the girl didn’t say anything, didn’t give any backhanded compliments, didn’t have any look of judgement that was present in her eyes.
“anything you guys’re looking for in particular?” eddie nods, placing his fists lightly on the counter as he tapped it along to the song playing over the speakers in the ceiling.
“yeah, can we rent e.t.? and, oh, do you guys have any suggestions for space or sci-fi movies?” as steve rung up his first request, robin began listing off movies like she was an encyclopedia. as she wrapped up, eddie looked back at her.
“whad’ya wanna watch? i’m personally leaning towards star wars, you watched it before?” she doesn’t say anything, shaking her head. the first movie had always been on her list, but she’d been just a little too young to watch it when it’d come out, “alright, we’ll take a new hope too.” robin nods happily, grabbing a copy.
soon, the two of them were back comfortably in the two front seats of his van, with her holding the two rentals and his hands on the wheel. at least she’s smiling now, even though she’s not saying much, and eddie feels like it’s been a success so far.
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he takes her back to his place, knowing wayne won’t be coming back until the afternoon on the next day. he, once again, opens the door for her and helps her out of his car, and similarly helps her into his house.
not much has changed since the last time she was there, nearly 4 years ago. there’s still very basic - yet homey - decorations on the walls, and the kitchen and living room look the same. eddie’s room’s door is slightly ajar, and the multitude of rock band posters were still on his walls, though they were slightly more dusty now, and they were peeling at the corners.
he offered her a drink, which she declined, before lowering down to his haunches in front of the chunky t.v. box in front of the couch. she stands, rather awkwardly, at the front entrance, while he sets up the movie. finally, noticing her lack of movement, he’s quick to usher her in, offering her a drink on her way to the couch.
“no, i’m - uh, that’s alright.” shrugging, he nods, letting her find a semi-comfortable seat on the end of the couch and, realizing her hesitation, he sits down a small distance from her, propping his feet on the table in front of them and his elbow on the arm rest. he presses the on switch for the remote, and, in just a few moments, the opening scenes of e.t. start playing. he looks at her out of the corner of his eyes.
she’s got a bright smile on her face and, in that moment, she looked just like his old friend.
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it hadn’t been too late when they’d finally finished the movie and, for the first half of it, they’d both been eerily quiet - her enjoying the movie and him being too worried about saying something to take her out of that joy. then, midway through, she’d let an off-handed comment slip about one of the events and, soon, they were maintaining a semi-frequent dialogue about their opinions on the actions, characters or special effects - the both of them occasionally gasping at or scolding character’s actions in unison. it made her chuckle, and that made him laugh along with her.
now, though, she felt her eyes prickle lightly from a new - yet lesser - wave of tears that overtook her as she remembered the ending they’d just watched. sure, she’d watched the movie tens of times before, but that didn’t stop her from choking up as the extraterrestrial said goodbye.
a thin white object appeared in front of her and, through he blurry eyes, she couldn’t exactly tell what it was. she took it off eddie - who was trying to hand it to her - anyways, and realized that it was a tissue.
“oh my god,” she grins, but the act of her closing her eyes makes her tear slip, and she can hear eddie chuckle slightly as she used the tissue to dab at the corners of her eyes.
“hey, at least you’re better than last time.” by last time, he was referring to when she’d bawled her eyes out in the middle of the theater, clutching his shoulder tightly to find some grounding in her misery. she didn’t know why she was so keen to watch movies that made her cry, but - then again - a lot of movies made her cry.
eddie didn’t think about it like that - he also knew that many movies made her laugh, made her excited, content, scared, or anxious. movies made her feel, and he was happy that he was bearing witness to that once more, as it reminded him of her all that time ago.
she went to reach for the next movie - as a silence had grown between them, and eddie also got up, offering her something to eat. she snorted at that, and he whipped his head around, confused by her reaction.
“i know we haven’t talked much, but i can guarantee you’re still a shit cook.” he scoffed in a playful indignance, waving his hand at her.
“hey, hey, hey! i make a mean tinned macaroni, i’ll have you know.”
“that’s not cooking! that’s just as bad as you saying you can fry an egg and call it a meal.” it’d been something he said when she’d come to him, looking for support from her parents, and he had decided to make her some comfort food. it seemed like a fantastic idea until, of course, he realized he couldn’t cook. so, instead, he’d fried her an egg, plated it, and had sprinkled some pepper on and hoped for the best.
she had loved it. of course, she teased him to hell and back for the lack of a meal in his meal, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t appreciated the effort.
she’s rolling her eyes at the memory as she’s coming down from her giggle, and she looks to see eddie smiling fondly at her. she couldn’t hold his gaze - knowing exactly why he had a look of familiarity in his eyes, and she didn’t want to address it. luckily - or maybe unluckily for her, he did.
“we don’t talk much anymore, huh?” he said it like it was a recent revelation. it was not, “why don’t we?” she didn’t look at him, finding herself more invested in the threads of her skirt.
“i - um, i don’t know why, ed.” that was a nickname she hadn’t used in a while, and it made him want to turn back time - to get back those years that he’d spent without her. after a moment, he moved closer to her: close enough to take her hand in his; close enough to pull her chin to look at him. her eyes were so pretty - so bright, so hopeful and so playful - but the deep sadness in them caused an overcast on his heart.
“i - i liked talking to you.” he sighed, unsure of a poetic way to say it, “i wish i could just do it more.” sure - it was direct, but it got his point across. she gulped, suddenly breaking away from him.
“no - no you don’t.” he looked at her retraction in shock.
“why not?” she looked ready to pack up and leave, but he found himself unable to understand if he’d done anything to provoke it.
“i - i’m not the kind of person you wanna be friends with. i’m - i’m too fucked up.” the last sentence is a whisper and, for a moment he can’t process it.
“you - what’re you talking about?” she crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly wildly self-conscious of the attire she’d chosen for her job.
“i’m - god, eddie - i can’t do this. i need to go home, i’m sorry.” she’d started taking her things, and he restrains himself from trying to stop her. before she reached the door, though, he spoke again.
“will you at least tell me why?” she looked at him with a pained gaze. she looked at the mess of hair in his head that she wanted to pet, she looked at the big doe eyes she could sink into, she looked at the full lips that she wanted to kiss so badly.
“i - i can’t be your friend.” her voice cracked, and she looked away, the bubble from earlier bursting and a tear falling down her cheek. he sprang up, careful not to come to close to her, but heartbroken to see her cry.
“oh, god - please don’t cry. look, i don’t - fuck, how do i say this - i don’t want to be your friend.” it sounded harsh, and he realizes it through her look of incredulity, “i - i mean, i don’t want to be just friends.” she blinks up at him, the saline in her eyes being slowly replaced by confusion.
“ed? i don’t-”
“fuck, look. just, you’re so pretty, and you’re funny, and hard-working - you have great taste in music and movies and you can be a little stubborn sometimes but - but goddamn. i like you.” the confession leaves her mouth ajar, as his face drops, hair covering his concerned eyes as he shook his head at his own stupidity, “fuck, i shouldn’t have said that, i’m sorry, i -”
“’re you serious, ed?” she looks at him with earnest - and he interprets - hope.
“as a heart attack.” it’s a whisper, as he’s anticipating her response.
“i - i don’t think you’re being serious.” she can’t believe him.
“why not?”
“because i don’t deserve that, i don’t deserve you.” it’s rushed, like it’s a sudden revelation, but the incredulity of the statement makes eddie tentatively approach her. He held out a hand slowly, and he threads his fingers through hers, until he finds a comfortable hold on her palm. he brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, before smiling a wide, genuine smile at her.
“can i kiss you?” she looked at his eyes, and at his lips, and she nods - and he leans down to find her lips with his. hers are a little chapped, a byproduct of the cold weather, and she’s got a distinct cherry lip gloss on, the red on it smearing on his own lips and skin. she breaks away from his face, but not his body, her other hand clutching tightly at his forearm, as if it would be detrimental for her to let go.
“you can’t kiss me like that.” it’s almost playful, her sentence, but there’s a serious undertone to it. he looks at her in worry, scared he’d taken it too far, before she clarifies, “i’m the whore of hawkins high, nobody should kiss me like that.” he felt a deep sadness at her diminishing words.
“you - god, you are not a whore.” she laughs at the attempt to cheer her up, but he doesn’t let that falter him, “do you want to keep doing this?” he gestures to her outfit. she thinks about it for a moment.
“no. but, ed - i can’t pay the bills-”
“we’ll figure it out.”
“ed, you can’t just say-”
“i’m being serious. we’ll work something out. we’ll find jobs - i’ll find a job, and then we’ll get out of this hellhole. you and me.”
“just like old times?”
“just like ‘em.” she goes silent for a moment, pondering the idea. finally, she nods lightly, and he sighs in content.
“can you kiss me like that again?” she whispers it, and he obliges, kissing her with the fervor of passion.
it made her feel beautiful, feel elated, feel loved. it made her feel like she was wandering the moon and the stars.
it made her feel like a fairy princess.
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insomniamamma · 1 year
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In The Light They Both Look The Same: Joel Miller x F!reader
A/N: I'm honestly not sure what happened here. I got visited by the Angst Fairy and the Smut Fairy at the same time, thinking of the way people will bite and bruise each other during sex, and how that might play out in this context. The title comes from "Neon Bible" by Arcade Fire. This takes place in an unnamed QZ before the Joel's time in Boston with Tess.
Warnings: Sex work. Implied sexual violence. Bite marks. Bruises. Broken skin. Angst. Smut.
You call him Tex. You know his name but you don't use it. That suits him just fine. The two of you have an understanding. He fucks you and pays your for it. No fuss, no muss. An agreed upon rate to be payed in ration cards if he has them and or the equivalent. You prefer ration cards. Those FEDRA fucks don't care where or how you get them, ration cards mean food in your belly with no questions, something you can easily trade for bathtub gin or homemade soap, or any number of things that make life in the QZ slightly less terrible.          Pills are a little harder to move. You have to be sneaky. Once he paid you half the cards he usually does with a heavy gold ring perched atop them.                  Where'd you get this? You don't want to know. But Tex always pays. What were you? In your other life? People ask you this. People who trade ration cards for durable clothing, people who trade a half oxy for a bar of hard soap rendered from the fat and ashes of Christ knows what. What were you before?            You make up an answer if you think it will gain you something, but you weren't anything at all. There was no time for that. Sometimes all you have to barter is yourself. Whore, they whisper sometimes as you pass, as if any of them are clean. As if any of them haven't sold something of themselves for a little comfort, a little dulling of the pain. As if none of them have turned a blind eye or greased a palm.
         Tex never asks what you were meant to be before, never tries to pretend this is anything other than transactional. I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not your lover. You need to scratch an itch and I'm the one who can reach it. There's been others that couldn't seem to wrap their heads around that very simple concept. Giving rough men a soft place to land means risk. You peer at his unruly, grey-shot curls as he bends to unbutton your shirt and wonder if you've taken one risk too many, skims his warm palms over your shoulders, pulling your shirt sleeves down in the flickering, uncertain light, never know when the power's gonna shit out. FEDRA buildings always seem to have power when the rest of the QZ browns out.          He sees the dented rings of teeth-marks on your exposed tits and flinches back.          "Christ Almighty--"          "I'm not--"          "I know you're not. I've seen infection before." He reaches for you and you flinch back, gathering your unbuttoned shirt over yourself. It was a mistake coming to him like this, bruised and bitten, should have waited, given an excuse--          "I should go--"          "Show me." His face is hard, eyes dark and unreadable and when his hand moves to circle your wrist you jerk away, hard enough that your momentum carries you back a few steps, and you trip up and he catches you, hands around your upper arms, gripping hard, but then softening, his thumbs smoothing over your tensed muscles, but his eyes are dark in the fickle light, there's a hardness in his face, in the set of his shoulders that makes you feel afraid. You never pegged Tex as the jealous type. He's rough with you sometimes. He's not shy in taking what he needs, but he's never left you bruised. He's never left you hurt. He turns you and pushes you onto the edge of the bed.          "You wait right here," he says, "We're gonna talk."          "I can come back another time--"you say, "I'll make it up to you." You can hear him moving around in the kitchen. When did you start crying? Tears pool hot at the corners of your eyes and you scrub them away with the back of your hand. He reappears with a twist of cloth and a bottle of booze.          "I'm sorry," you say. Sometimes it hits you, the way the world has bent from where you thought it would be, the speed at which everything came undone. This isn't how it was supposed to be. When that thought comes you try to squash it down, stamp on its head before it can bite you, the outraged cries of the life you almost had echoing in your ears.          "Let me see." His tone offers no space to argue. You hold yourself stone still as  he unfurls your shirt like petals and smoothes it down over your shoulders.          "Someone did this to you," He presses the alcohol soaked rag to your broken skin and you hiss.          "Doesn't matter," you say, "He paid what he owed."          "Bullshit he did," says Joel. He rubs something into your skin that eases the sting, and fresh tears follow the tracks already on your cheeks, "Some fool could've seen these marks and killed you over em. Now you are going to give me a name."          You breathe out hard, goosebumps heaving up in the chill bruised and bitten and naked beneath his gaze. You broke your own rule. That rule being don't fuck FEDRA. But things had been lean. He was young and he'd seemed sweet. Until he wasn't.          "He wasn't one of yours," you say, and he grips your chin, makes you look into those midnight eyes that give nothing back.          "Name. Now." And you tell him.            "He's FEDRA, okay? His name's Johnny. Johnny G. I don't know his last name, just that it starts with a 'G.' I should go. I won't bother you again. Please, just let me go." His grip on your chin eases, slides his warm, rough palm against your cheek and presses his forehead to yours. He stays like that a spell, and then cups the back of your head, pulls you into him, presses his lips to yours, a soft, lingering kiss. He's never kissed you, he's nipped at your neck, grazed his teeth along your inner thigh, but this--this?          "Tex? Joel?" He nuzzles his nose alongside yours and you can feel the humid warmth of his ragged breath against your lips.          "Hush now," he says, "You hush." His hand spreads wide over your bared sternum, pressing you down into the familiar rut of his mattress, a groove worn by him and whoever fetched up here before him. Kisses you soft and slow as he lays you back. Wind groans through the decaying buildings, sends sleet spacking against the windows, little huffs of frigid air where the windows leak. And then he leans back, shucking out of his tattered shirt, shedding the threadbare white t-shirt beneath, showing himself to you and your breath catches in your throat. This is new for him. You naked and him clothed, bared because he likes to play with your tits when he fucks you, that's the normal way of it, likes the sight of you splayed out but never treats you to the same. Until now. You take a moment just to drink him in. He is beautiful in the way of things that are worn but still good, broad sun-freckled shoulders and arms made strong by a life time of hard work, gentle swell of his belly, and his skin is so warm against yours, catching your hands in his hair and pulling him down so you can kiss him, the rules that outline this transaction suspended, skim your hands over his arms, the plane of his back, around to where his ribs meet his belly and twists his face into your neck and lets out a shaky breath. You repeat the motion and he squirms.          "Dammit woman--" but you feel him smile against your skin.          "You're ticklish."          "Am not."          "Whatever you say, Tex." You find a knot of smooth, tight scar at his side, brush your thumb over it and he pushes himself up on his forearms to look at you.          "Sorry."          "S'okay." Those dark eyes drink you in. He pulls away from you and grabs at your feet and yanks you towards the edge of the bed, claws your pants down, pushes your thighs open. You tense up, at the memory of bruising hands there, skin still sore and stained, whimper when his fingers dig in thoughtlessly, and he draws back to look at you in the fickle light, smoothes his thumbs over the marks.          "Same guy?"          "Yeah. I was stupid, okay?" You try to curl away, but his has you pinned, hands pressing down on your thighs, holding you open and raw, and those mirror black eyes soften.          "Ssshhhh," he breathes against the finger shaped bruises, a soft, sore kiss to your right thigh and then your left and then his mouth is on you, burning against you in the chill, your hands fist helplessly in his hair as he peels you apart, gentle flutter of his tongue and the roughness of his thumb delving into your slick and stroking lower, teasing the tender skin between cunt and asshole, before moving back up to sink inside you. You buck hard against him and feel him smile against you, kisses the soft swell below your navel before delving back in.          He gives himself to you. With lips and tongue and warm rough hands. He's been rough with you before, but he is gentle with you now, mindful of his grip, of the graze of his teeth, and when he finally slides himself inside you, it's a slow shift, rocks into you, holding your eyes with his, freezing when you draw a harsh inward breath.          "You okay?"          "Yeah. A little sore. Just go slow, huh?"          "Okay,"  He nods, braced on his elbows as he rolls his hips slow and languid, gives himself to you, face tucked into the curve of your neck, breath raising gooseflesh, nuzzles at your ear,          "Joel?" His name a question from your lips because it's never been like this, the demarcation line between you and him now blurred, slow roll of his hips, almost teasing, tender friction of his skin on yours. He pins you. He cages you, enfolds you and fucks you slow, builds you slow until you break, tongues at the soft place below your earlobe. You come with a strangled wail, your body arced tight against his and he pulls out and comes hard, cock pressed between your bodies, head thrown back, ugly winter light catching the straining muscles of his shoulders, the cords of his neck, and then he collapses against you, the weight of him pressing warm, breath shuddering and ragged and prickling goosebumps along your throat and chest.          Eventually he withdraws as he usually does, pours himself a knock of dubious whiskey as he usually does, ugly snow-shot streetlight gilding his flyaway curls, limning the breadth of his shoulders. Peers out the window as you clean yourself up, tepid water from the balky tub, angle yourself under the spigot, remembering showers, remembering water pressure so high it felt like sandblasting your skin.          You dry and start to dress.          "You should stay," says Joel, a dark shadow against the amber lit window. At some point the sleet has turned to snow that blows sideways, "It's too cold out there."          "Big baby."          "You got somewhere else to be?"          "No."          "Then stay." And you do.
         He's gone when you wake. The expected stack of ration cards is piled neatly on his dresser. A small, yellow tube sits atop the pile, no cap but a bit of grayish grease shines in the murky morning light, a note scratched on a ragged slip of paper. 3x daily. LAY LOW.
         Whispers about the missing FEDRA patrolman make the rounds.
         You never see Joel Miller again.
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bits-and-babs · 7 months
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✦ 𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✦
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– KINKTOBER DAY 1: CAMGIRL!READER
simon riley x camgirl!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.3k words
summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared.
cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.
⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED ⇾
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❝On Deployment. Don’t be afraid.❞
Cryptic in its context, the message that popped up from your new client in the lower right corner of your computer screen made you smirk at the time. However, gazing at the skull-faced mask that materialised on the pixelated video screen when you answered the video call that swiftly followed, your amusement slips from your lips. Username ‘Ghost’ hadn’t been making some kind of arcane joke about the size of his dick being too much for you… 
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“Oh,” you let out a weak laugh, eyes slipping over the grainy footage as ‘Ghost’ leaned back in his seat, immense, bulging arms crossing over the plane of his chest, “When you said… I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Can’t take off the mask,” the gruff, northern accent that rumbles through the computer speakers sends a ripple down your spine– a concoction of a nervous chill and delighted arousal. It metastasises in your guts when you watch him spread his legs, the blackness in the eye sockets of the skull burning through you even behind a screen. “The URA don’t take kindly t’people contactin’ cam-girls.”
URA. United Republic of Adal.
“You’re– On a military base?” The question passes your lips before you have the opportunity to think better. The plain black t-shirt stretched across his humongous frame gives little away, but the khaki-camo pants and the silver dog tags glinting in the low light of the room seem to corroborate his claims. 
“Can’t divulge that information.”
Of course he couldn’t. Obviously. 
“Y’can call me sir.” ‘Ghost’ clearly had experience contacting cam-girls, leading with his preferred address. It’s impossible to ignore that tingling arousal creeping into the pit of your stomach again, knowing you were in for a ride– so to speak. 
“Yes sir,” you answer to his demand, watching as ‘Ghost’ rubbed his palms over the top of his camo-clad thighs. You note the grainy blackness across the back of his hands; a tattoo. Most clients were secretive in their own camera-exposure, focusing the frame on their head and shoulders while pleasuring themselves off camera. ‘Ghost’s’ whole body was on display, offering just as much of a show for yourself. 
It was thrilling. 
“Lose the bra.” 
“Yes sir,” you nod, compliant to his demands. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp the lacy bra you’d chosen specifically for this cam-session. Your contact with ‘Ghost’ had been minimal, limited in the information he would reveal to you. It was entertaining this way, guessing at what you should wear like taking a crack at an enigma code. A shot in the dark; you’d gone for simple black. Slowly slipping the unadorned bra from your arms, you made a note of your victory when you hear–
“Fuck, that’s it,” ‘Ghost' mumbles beneath his breath, and you’re unsure if he was unaware of the sensitivity of his microphone, or if he’d meant for you to hear his whispered praise. You can’t find it in yourself to warn him when his palm settles over his crotch, inhaling sharply as he lifts his hips up to grind into it. 
Cupping your breasts in your hands, you squeeze the supple flesh so it bulges slightly between your fingers. It’s as natural as breathing now, a learnt behaviour after months of cam-work. Nothing special, but it gets ‘Ghost’s’ attention. 
“Hmm, fuckin’ ‘ell,” he groans softly, quick to work himself out of the khaki uniform trousers. You have half a mind to inform his superior that one of his soldiers had stolen a weapon from the armoury, watching him wrap his hand around his throbbing cock in a tight fist. “Get real close to the camera. Wanna see you fuck yourself, love.” 
You remember his initial request, much like his communications with you; simple and lacking detail. ‘Fuck urself w/ ur largest toy. Panties on’. Though, gazing at the image of him on your computer screen through heavy lids, you weren’t sure even your largest dildo compared to the girth he held in his hand. The ruddy tip is shiny, and you can just barely make out the shadows of bulging veins where his palm couldn’t reach. 
“Fuckkk,” ‘Ghost’ groans when you ease the tip of the toy in, camera angled just right to see you clench around the silicone but also to show your eyes rolling back. “That’s it. Greedy cunt’s swallowin’ it all. Look at you creamin’ around it–”
For a man so unwilling to talk much in any other set of circumstances, ‘Ghost’ was particularly mouthy now. Even as the head of the toy touches something mind-numbing inside of you, a delirious, breathy giggle escapes you at the thought. 
Beginning to push the toy in and out of your cunt, you watch ‘Ghost’ begin to fist his cock with a grunt. His eyes stay glued to the screen, enraptured by the way your walls squeeze the toy so tightly. It’s hard to miss the way his lungs rattle with unsteady breaths, the sheer size of him making a slight tremble appear like a shudder so violent it could trigger an avalanche. 
“Christ, I’d fuckin’ ruin you. Fuckin’ split you open and flood that cunt with my cum,” he moans, the sound wanton and wholely unmatching his intimidating size. It takes you a moment for your vision to focus before you note the slow, methodical rise of his fist, matching the strokes of the toy inside of you. 
Like he was imagining fucking you. 
Your own arousal spiking with the realisation, you thrust the toy inside of you quicker, more eagerly. It's ecstasy, the head of the toy spearing something inside of you that has your legs quaking. “Ugh– hhahah, ohmygod, oh fuck–” 
‘Ghost’ continues to talk you through your squeals of delight, his gruff voice particularly throaty now as he matches the violent thrusts of the toy. “Good fuckin’ girl, love. If you were here I’d fuckin’ paint your face with it– fuck!”
It’s like a chain reaction, the usually stoic man’s filthy comments causing a visible clench of your cunt when you cum around the toy. It makes ‘Ghost’ cum. White floods your vision, but the static sound in your ears can’t drown out the gruff, choked sounds that play from your speakers. 
When your blurred vision finally centres, ‘Ghost’s’ fingers are drenched with thick ropes of cum, the creamy spend dropping from his knuckles onto the khaki of his trousers. Leaning his head over the back of the chair with a shaky exhale, the black hem of the ski-mask rides up slightly, exposing the bulging veins beneath the pale, rosy skin of his neck. It’s a tantalising glimpse of the man behind the obscure username, underneath the skeleton-veil. Instantaneously, you’re like an addict– desperate for more, one hit isn’t enough to satiate the screaming need inside of you for another inch of skin. 
It’s why you leap out of bed at 04:27am when you receive a message weeks after you’d hit ‘end call’, the promise of your next fix delivered in a cryptic message deposited in a private messaging chat that had lay dormant since the footage went black. 
‘Want u on ur knees this time. Panties in ur mouth, fingers in ur cunt.’ 
Biting on a grin, you rush to answer. He was still in the URA, the digits on the clock in the top right of your phone evidence of a timezone difference. It was still relatively early there– like he’d finished his shift and immediately contacted you. Like he couldn’t wait to jack off to the image of you stuffing your cunt with your fingers and whining his name. 
Fuck the four figure amount he’d deposited into your bank as thanks for the last video call, the thought alone is enough to urge your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, circling your clit as you clumsily type with one hand to respond to his demand. 
‘Yes sir x’ 
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cod mwii/kinktober taglist:
@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth
@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk
@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh
1K notes · View notes
lixiektty · 6 months
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the range — kinktober day one
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word count: 3.5k (i got carried away lol)
warnings/kinks: harddom!heeseung, sexworker!heeseung, sub!reader, language, oral (m. receiving), protected sex, squirting, degradation, a little praise, fingering, spanking, pet names, dirty talk pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!
author's note: long time no see! i'm back for kinktober. i'm really trying to work on being active on here, after kinktober i hope i can accomplish just that. i hope you all enjoy my upcoming works for this month!!
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you had heard about this place a few halloween's back— you hadn't expected it to reopen this year, giving you again another chance to go. the reviews were good but there was no way of seeing exactly what you should expect when going in.
all you friends pushed you to go, not that any of them had been before either, but they thought it'd help you let loose a little. you were just questioning yourself nonstop, mind switching between going and not going. you thought, maybe this could be a little fun...
tonight was halloween night, a ticket had to be bought within 24 hours of your arrival, so you rushed to your computer yesterday morning and bought one for yourself. you dressed up in a strapless tight leather dress, fishnets hugging your legs. it was basic, yes, but you looked hot, and your besties thought so too when you sent a picture to the groupchat.
walking into the attraction had your heart racing. the main area to scan your ticket was a small booth right before the entrance to the actual building. a lady sat there, face speaking for itself, saying she's bored and over it. you had to sign a waiver which honestly freaked you the fuck out, what happens in there other than a good fuck?
when entering, it was pretty loud. smoke filled the small hallways; lights were flashing brightly. you didn't know what you were supposed to do or where you were supposed to go.
it was a good two minutes when you finally heard footsteps right behind you. before you could even turn, a hand was placed over your mouth to mumble your screams and you were yanked through this curtain that hid a door right behind it. once you got into the room, it was decorated as if you were in a horror film. the hands on you let you go but still didn't turn you around. you felt shaky, all of this was so new—so unexpected.
"you're a pretty little thing, aren't ya'?" the man spoke, placing his cold hands on the back of your thighs, fingers running between the spaces left from your fishnets. he breathes heavily, almost like he's hungry, as he felt around your body.
you hadn't even gotten a good look at his face, wanting to know the face of the guy who was about to fuck you crazy. for a second you had hesitated to turn, but you finally did and looked up into his eyes. the only thing that had been on his face were two fake smile cuts— blooding dripping from them, he was attractive though, no kidding. you couldn't get enough of the way he looked down at you, still wearing his acting face and trying his best to continue portraying this character while you're still in front of him looking like that.
"did i tell you to turn and look at me?" he asked. no, but you wanted to.
"i— i just wanted to see what you looked like..." you replied, feeling so small with all the dominance he carried.
"does it matter? you're not gonna see it while i'm fucking you, you can barely see with these lights anyways."
"but— i saw enough," heeseung was a nice guy in real life, this character though was the complete opposite— aggressive, rough, overly dominant and so on. having to keep going on with this facade when you said things that had him blushing and instead of treating you like a princess, he'd be treating you like a slut.
"on your knees," he said through gritted teeth.
right away you were kneeling before him, face to face with his bulge and looking up. he held your chin to tilt your head up a little bit further. "what an obedient slut," he chuckled airy and let go of your face.
you watched as his hands trailed down to fiddle with his button and zipper of his black jeans. the feeling of excitement filled you and it caused a pool to form in the lace fabric you wore.
the minute heeseung pulled his cock out you didn't even get to give a reaction before he was forcing himself inside your mouth. you hummed lightly, loving the way he tasted on your tongue. he watched your head move forward without his help, watching the dirty sight and listening to your moans in satisfaction.
heeseung threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck you were so aching to mark, "fuck," he let out softly followed by a few pants.
his hands move to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair and gripping onto it tight. the sting sent to your scalp added a whole new feel of pleasure, nothing was being done to you, yet you were making more noises than heeseung was.
your eyes had closed just a little while ago and once you opened them and look back up, you make eye contact with the man. he squints and tilts his head a bit, that being enough to intimidate you and closing your eyes yet again.
"ah— nope, look at me," heeseung says, demanding voice deep and raspy.
you hesitantly open your eyes again and look up into his eyes. heeseung pushes himself deeper down into your throat, holding you there until your nose was almost kissing his pelvis. tears filled your water line, and you let out very few choking noises before he was pulling out fully removing himself, thank god for your lack of a gag reflex.
his heavy cock hung right in front of your face, your black lipstick leaving one single ring around the base, "look at how good you take it, so messy— just how i like it."
heeseung rubbed his tip between your lips, glossing the precum all over them. the aching between your legs just seemed to grow and it wasn't like you could tell him to hurry up, that'll just piss him off. he didn't like being rushed, plus he was control right now.
everything had happened so quick, one minute you were on the floor and the next you were being thrown onto the bed— fishnets ripped and underwear at your knees. the leather hugging your body had barely moved and heeseung just needed to see more, see how your ass moved against him and your hips rocking back and forth.
"you're so wet darling, who's got you all worked up?" he asked, a evil chuckle following.
you hadn't answered, too afraid to speak if you were being honest and heeseung didn't appreciate that. a sharp slap was sent to your ass, and you jumped, gasping but enjoyed the sting.
"i asked a question, don't start acting up now," he sounded hot every time he spoke, if only you could see his face right now.
hands gripped onto your hips, eyes trailing down your body and falling in love with the view. with the amount of shifts he's worked here and all the people he has fucked he had never been so into a customer like he was into you.
"you, you did—" you finally say.
"good, you speak," he says, "now keep going with that pretty mouth of yours."
two of his long slender fingers plunged into you, curling and sending this new shockwave throughout your body. an exaggerated moan left your mouth, you hadn't remembered the last time you felt someone else's fingers but yours and it feel amazing.
"you're sucking them right in, doll," heeseung comments. his fingers moved steadily, a twist of his wrist every now and then.
his digits were nearly soaked from you, not like he really minded anyways. if anything, he thought it was hot you were this wet for him, dripping from his fingers and making all these noises.
screams, moans, and the faint sound of the spooky music they had playing could be heard— along with the smoke machines and buzzing of lights, yet your moans were all heeseung could focus on.
"shi— more, please more," you begged.
heeseung couldn't resist, making enough space to add another one of his fingers and move faster. each thrust of them became rougher and had you clawing at the sheets. he did so well, and of course he knew what he was doing, he worked here for a reason.
"good god, you're so tight," heeseung bent down to press a kiss to the back of your thigh, licking up the arousal that had dripped down and groaning from the satisfying taste, "and you taste so good."
all he could think about now was how he wanted to go raw on you and feel the way you clench around his cock tight, barely allowing him to move, but it was a requirement that the workers use protection in order not to catch nor spread anything. it made him grow this irritation because he really just wanted to know how you felt— and even filling you up with him cum and watching it leak from you, though he knew he couldn't do that, the thought just didn't go away.
"wish i could fill you up, but i'm afraid i can't doll," he says, disappoint heard in his voice.
you wondered why, then remembered what you had read on the contract about the protection rules. to feel his load was only something you could imagine, now you wondered if you would see him again, run into him and flashback to this night. he'd take you back to his place, or even yours and you could finally see his face clearly, clear of the fake scars and being able to actually see it in the light.
"you'd probably take it so well, huh?" he asked. you hum and wiggle your hips, moving them side to side to add to the pleasure, "what a proud cumslut."
that familiar knot tightened up in your stomach and your bud throbbing, aching for the attention. if you would have reached back what if heeseung slapped your hand away and denied you of any contact? which is exactly what he did when you tried.
you tighten around his fingers and feeling your mind getting fuzzy, heeseung pushing you closer and closer to your high.
"i— i'm close," you moan out.
"so quick?" again, you moan out but in embarrassment.
it just felt so good, how could he blame you? with each thrust of his fingers and jerk of his hand, it was only a matter of time before you soaked the both of you. heeseung watched as you squirted, twisting and turning his fingers roughly inside you as you did.
"didn't know you could do that," he said, smirk plaster on his face.
his fingers were out of you after being trapped in for so long, your hips collapsing trying to get some rest but heeseung wasn't done. and he wasn't giving breaks.
your hips were soon propped back up, heeseung placing your knees on the bed. he needed to fuck you now, feel every part of you. he nearly forgot to get protection due to how distracted he got watching you drench his fingers and clothing like that— your cum running down the back of your thighs, oh was it a sight.
heeseung grabbed the condom that usually was left on the nightstands, grabbing and removing it from the package. he stripped himself from his jacket and his shirt that was wet because of you, rolling the latex slowly onto the head and down his shaft.
"hurry and fuck me," you say, with a wiggle of your hips just barely hitting the head of his cock with your heat.
"you're an impatient little bitch," heeseung rolls your dress up to your waist, sending an aggressive slap on your ass—making you flinch. he held onto your hips tightly before pushing himself in, the sound of him hissing behind you at the feeling made you clench tighter around him, "sucking me right in, how fuckin' pretty?"
heeseung's hips started at a slow pace, a small whimper leaving your lips as he filled you to the brim, so easily controlling you with everything he did and every word he spoke. as his pace started to grow faster, your hands clenched onto the comforter—feeling all of him, inch by inch.
"m'gonna abused this sweet pussy of yours, darling." he smacks your ass harder and began pistoning into you. each stroke went deeper and deeper, splitting you open like no one has before.
you moan loud, all the wet sounds and skin slapping overpowering the loudness of the smoke machines, other women's screams, and anything else that made noise outside of this room, "how are you so fucking big?" you struggled to ask, genuinely wondering how someone could be the size he was but fit so perfectly inside you.
"it's a blessing, i guess," he shrugged, knowing how cocky that sounded but it just played into his character.
he continued to pound into you and letting out the nastiest of groans, getting lost inside you. never in the two years he's been working here as he ever felt like this before. it was always nothing but a fuck, a paycheck, and then going home after fucking girls back-to-back, but you... he could fuck you without your money even being involved. you were a goddess in his eyes, and the slutty costume you wore didn't help him control his thoughts.
heeseung pulls out of you, manhandling you onto your back, yanking your panties down from your knees and discarding them then pulling your dress up more. your legs spread for him instinctively and his cock filled you back up immediately. heeseung watched how your body reacted to him—fucking you with sharper thrusts this time.
"pretty girl, give me another?" he hovered over you, bringing one of your legs up to your chest. you nod in response, heeseung smirking as you let out another moan, "good, i want us drenched."
as time went on, and heeseung's movements only got faster—you felt yourself being pushed further to the edge. ear splitting squeals left your throat and soon you were cumming fast and hard. heeseung pulled out, fingers immediately traveling down to your clit and rubbing harshly throughout your orgasm. heeseung's torso was now dripping, the picture of his state locked in your mind.
"fuck baby, can you do it again for me?" heeseung asked, fingers still toying with you bud gently causing you to jerk up into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut and letting out and mumbled whimper, "please?"
that made something in you snap. you felt so obedient, so needy and it was all for him. you nodded to the best of your ability, heeseung grinned the second you did. something about his sinister makeup made him so incredibly attractive in a way, so much more dominate.
he stood back up straight, positioning himself to slide back into you with ease. your back arched off the bed giving heeseung a chance to slip one of his arms under you and hold you in place. his body was pressed against yours, his hips beginning to move again.
moans spilled out of you, you were just too sensitive and already worn out—anything you did you had no control of in the moment. you felt like a toy for him to use, which wasn't a bad idea at all, infact you were hoping he'd treat you as just that.
heeseung looked at your scrunched up face and open mouth, letting out the prettiest sounds he had ever heard. he plants a kiss on your chin, trailing them down to your neck and your collarbone, leaving a few marks behind.
"i could fuck you all night until you pass out," he mumbled against your skin.
you clenched around him at the thought of him using your body until you were putty in his hands, "i-i think i will s-soon if you make me cum again," you stuttered, your sentence causing him to giggle, "and i-isn't there a ti-time limit-t?"
"am i not the worker?" heeseung asked, looking into your eyes with his dark gaze, "if i'm having a good time i can do whatever the hell i please... meaning if i wanna fuck you for hours on end and make you squirt over and over again, then i will do so." he goes on to explain.
you weren't sure if he was still in character—saying the things he'd say to any of the girls that came to the range, or if he got so lost in the moment that he forgot he was supposed to be acting for the sake of good tips and instead meant every last word he said.
heeseung thrusted up hard into you, getting closer to his orgasm. he felt so pussy drunk, he was feeling dizzy and his hips began having a mind of their own. you felt his free hand coming to toy with your clit again, rubbing like he was trying to get you to cum messy and fast again.
"f-fuck, fuck i'm gonna cum~" you cried out. heeseung chuckles devilishly, leaning down to lick across your jawline and then whisper into your ear.
"be a good slut, make me cum and i'll make you," he whispered.
you whine, clenching down onto him, your eyes snapping shut as you tried to hold on—hoping he was close. his slender fingers slide up and down along your soaked core, pounding into you until he released. you had only wished it was actually inside you. the thought itself made your hips twitch and you were cumming again—this one hitting a lot harder than the previous ones.
both you and heeseung's moans synced with one another, feeling sticky from sweat and cum. you stayed like this for a while as you tried catching your breath. heeseung's body had collapsed onto top of yours, his hips still slowly moving.
once he had finally got up, he wiped his abs clean using a folded towel left on the nightstand—tying his condom and throwing it into the trash.
"made you break character," you comment, chuckling afterwards.
heeseung laughs at you as he got dressed, kneeling down to pat your inner thighs dry. you examined your thighs as he did so, dripping from your many intense orgasms, ripped fishnets and flushed skin from the amount of harsh skin on skin contact.
"you're fucking amazing, my favorite customer by far," heeseung comments, collecting your panties as he was still on the ground and handing them to you.
"yeah?" you asked, leaning back on your hands and spreading your legs a little further, earning a smirk from the man between them, "better than all those other whores you screwed?"
heeseung stood up, throwing the towel into a different bin—an airy chuckle escaping his throat, "you're the best whore i've screwed, baby." he admits.
you hum, leaning forward and looking up at him with big eyes, "you tell all your customers that?"
heeseung upperhalf bends down, your chin ending up between his fingers, "only the pretty ones, and they don't come often," he says, forcing your head up slightly—lips so close to his, "you're different though. i like how your body reacts."
he lets go of you, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. you take it, pulling your dress back down once you did finally get up. your legs felt weak, your entire body felt weak, and your brain was still trying to process what the hell just happened.
"not to mention you know how to suck dick like no other," he adds as you were trying to fix yourself before you walked out that door, "should come back again, can't promise you'll get me next time though."
"what if i don't want anyone else next time?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.
all he does is smirk before placing his hand on the doorknob, "i'll just tell my coworkers to keep their hands off of you until i find you." he says as he opens the door for you, "you have a goodnight now...i need to get back into character. you fucked me up."
you smile before saying goodbye, walking out of the door and through the curtain. you walk down the hallway you originally entered the room from and went back to the front to collect your belongings.
"how much would you like to tip?" the lady behind the booth asked.
once you got your purse back, you pulled out a 50 and gave it to her. her eyes widened when she took it into her hands, looking back up at you, "good time huh?"
you nod, giving her a soft smile before grabbing your things and walking away from the building. it was almost an internal instinct to grab your phone and call your best friend.
the phone only rung twice before yunjin answered, "hello?" she spoke.
"hey..." you said lowly. she didn't know what to make of it. either you hadn't gone, or you did, and it was a disappointment.
"oh my god, did you not go through with it?" yunjin asked, you could hear shuffling on the other side of the line.
you chuckle, still walking to the parking lot, "no...no i went through with it alright."
"well, what are you waiting for? spill!" yunjin said, urging you to share your experience.
you thought back to what had just taken place in that building behind you five minutes ago, wanting to say fuck it and start running back and pay extra just so you could see heeseung again.
"the guy i was with was so fucking hot, jen. i'm telling you right now, that is the best sex i've had in a minute." you admitted.
"see! we told you it'd be fun," she says, you could just tell she was smiling as she said that, "did you get his number?"
"unfortunately, no," you said with a frown as you approached your car, unlocking it and getting in, "but i think i'll be coming back soon."
995 notes · View notes
poisonedprose · 7 months
Note
I need way more sexworker!reader x cod characters
at this point i just need it to survive
₊˚✧ sex work! — headcanons about sex work with price, soap, and gaz !
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john price, john 'soap' mctavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem!reader headcanons
warnings: lower case intended, might be typos, incomplete sentences, nsfw, cursing, sex work, tattooed reader - price, m!masturbation - price, f!masturbation - soap, cream pie - soap, m!masturbation - gaz, fleshlight use - gaz
masterlists
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price ! ⋆ THIS FUCKER KNOWSSSSS
⋆ mr price over here was scrolling through the only fans home page
⋆ one girl caught his eye and low and behold she had the exact same tattoo in the exact same place as you
⋆ he was grinning like a fuckin devil when he realized
⋆ lil old you had dirty lil secrets? he was gettin a kick out of this
⋆ immediately subscribed. watching every single one of your videos. even rubbing one out.
⋆ the next day this cocky mf knocks on your door with a shit eating grin
⋆ "you never told me you had an only fans."
⋆ lets just say after that he is your top supporter also buys you cute little sets to make videos in
soap ! ⋆ he was suspicious but he didn't know for sure
⋆ him and his bad habit of not knocking was good for him bad for you
⋆ he walks in like he owns the place "hey, training starts- oh wow."
⋆ you guys just stare at each other for a good minute or so
⋆ you're just like "get out????"
⋆ his ass does not get out
⋆ that solo masturbation video you were planning? yeah now it's a 'getting caught by my coworker/friend and then getting cream pied' video!!!
⋆ anyways save to say soap is a new member of your onlyfans after that
gaz ! ⋆ not a damn clue, so blissfully unaware its painful
⋆ literally would have never guessed
⋆ then you sent him one of your videos and were like "do you think i should post this? idk if i like this set"
⋆ jaw dropped. mouth wide open. drooling. catching flies. he was not ready for THAT when he opened your text
⋆ hes so caught up with how fucking horny he got he didn't even realize you said post it
⋆ the convo went a lil something like (gaz is blue)
yeah, it looks really good but post it? on what??
of duh
of?? of what??
only fans
WHAT
⋆ begs to watch you film every time now
⋆ also shamelessly fucks himself with a fleshlight while watching you
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1K notes · View notes
bandgie · 7 months
Text
Poor Baby
Idol!Bangchan x sexworker!reader
a/n: a lot of you guys asked for a part two of this post and I will provide!
synopsis: You need to make end meet with your bills. When your boss gives you a huge opportunity to make big money, you hop at it (even if it impacts your dignity). Lucky for you, your favorite customer happens to be coming in that day.
cw: 18+ MDNI, glory holes, PIV, no protection (use it!), fingering, oral (f!receiving), pussy slapping, cursing, cock drunk reader, reader is called Nyx/Chris is called Koala, mentions of Lee Know, cum eating, Chris is more confident this time, Chris is called 'daddy' and he plays into it, brief mentions of sub-space, idk that's it
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"I dunno, sounds too risky," you bite your fingernails as you speak. The offer is a good one, triple your hourly and bonus tips. You were on the verge of not being able to make rent, but your boss literally put this opportunity in your lap. Had you been a higher rating girl, you wouldn't have to resort to being a gloryhole.
"Okay I see what you mean," he starts, "but it's only for the weekend. Five hours tops! I'll give you a 20 minute break in the middle of it." Your boss looks at you with expecting eyes. You would take the deal in a heartbeat, but it goes against the only rule you have. "I don't feel safe letting my clients raw dog me. What if they get me sick?"
Your boss shakes his head profusely, "No! Come on Nyx, you know I wouldn't let that happen to any of my girls. They'll take the test to see if they're clean in advance. I get it, it goes against your morals or whatever, but it's big money. Huge! People with names are going to come, literally, and I know you need this more than ever. It's why I came to you first."
You sigh, looking down at the hands in your lap. He's right, and he's a good boss. You have a good job, nice coworkers, and a boss who genuinely looks after you. That's hard to find in this business. After all, you do need the money. Doing this gig for the weekend will help tremendously, and you might even afford to take a few days off.
Finally, you nod. "Yeah I guess you're right. When should I show up?"
It was a lot sooner than you had anticipated. You and the other girls weren't allowed to know who was coming. Like your boss said, they were well-known, so they preferred to keep their identity a secret. That part did make you a little nervous if you're being honest, but you found comfort in knowing that they wouldn't be able to see you.
It would be better this way. Have half your body in a wall, legs open, let the dude use you until he cuts in mere minutes, and get on with the next. Men cum easily, especially when they used women like a fleshlight. Perhaps time will go fast like that, and you could start planning on what you can do on your mini vacation.
So here you were, upper body laid on a small bed chest down with a bar in front for support. Your lower body was out through the hole, legs standing for support. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you could manage. Other women were in different positions all around you, some higher and some lower. Your boss and a few of other workers helped lube you up. You're thankful for that because you know damn well the men coming in would just rail into you.
A few minutes passed before you could hear shuffling, murmurs, the unbuckling of pants. You tensed in anticipation. You were grateful they couldn't see you, but not being able to see them was an entirely different story. You gasped when you felt fingers explore your folds. They were impatient, violating, and too harsh. You bit your lower lip from barking at the man, trying to think of all the cash you'd be swimming in soon.
It's just for the weekend.
-
Chris found himself, once again, in front of your establishment. He had already gone though the club, the secret sunflower door, the code. The only difference was that he was accompanied by none other than the person who told him about this sex club, Lee Know. They both wore disguises, face masks and hats to conceal their face.
"I can't believe you convinced me to do this again," Chris groans. Lee Know only smiles and laughs. Minho pats him on the back, "You're the one that agreed. Plus they have something special going on. You'll like it." Chris follows Minho from the main floor of the sex club and into the back. It's the familiar path to where he met you, but way further back.
Christopher would be lying if he wasn't anticipating on meeting you again. It's embarrassing, but he jerks himself off at the thought of you. The way you feel, the way you taste, how patient you were with him. He would rather die than tell Minho about you, he would get teased until the end of days. It's silly to think he'd see you here, but he can't help but hope.
"Something special? Is that why I had to get tested for STD's?" Chris questions. Rather than giving a verbal answer, Minho hums. He didn't have to do that before the session with you, and you let him go raw. Maybe it's only for special event, he thinks.
Chris and Minho approach a booth with a person inside. She wears a plastic smile on her face, hair done perfectly and acrylic nails. "Names please?" Her voice is almost drained out by the moans and slapping sounds coming from the other side. It's just a curtain that covers it, so all sounds can be heard.
A blush quickly finds its way to Chris's face and ears. He's so flustered that Minho has to answer, "Koala and Rino." The lady in the booth seems completely dismissive about what's going on behind the curtain. She looks through a few pages before nodding, "Ah I see you right here. Please enjoy your time, the session ends in about 2 hours."
Lee Know nods in response and grabs Chris by the sleeve the drag him behind the curtain. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He couldn't even comprehend the sight at first. Men were covered in sweat, pants completely down. Cum was stained below where the women were placed. The smell was strong, and it made Chris grimace.
He turned to Minho, expecting the same reaction. Instead, Minho was looking as if he was at heaven's gates. "Isn't it beautiful?" Chris stays quiet rather than answering. Minho walks further in and Christopher trails behind. The women have only their lower body sticking out, some in doggy others in missionary position.
Chan has only seen glory holes in porn, never even considering seeing one in person.
"So here," Minho points at the wall above one of the women, "is the name of the hole. They don't provide pictures, which sucks. If you see a name you like or know, you just basically fuck it. Cum in it, don't come it. Touch it, don't. The main rule is to not reach in the cut out. Keep your hands to what's exposed, or you'll get kicked out. They're pretty strict when it comes to shit like this."
Chris doesn't bother asking how Lee Know knows so much, it's in his name afterall. "I dunno," Chris tentatively looks around the room. Other men seem to have face masks on, but some don't. He can recognize people form TV, the news, even some older politicians. Lee Know sighs, "Bro, they don't care about you. No offense. They're just here to get their dick wet and leave. It's only gay if you make eye contact."
Lee Know's joke lightens the mood, and Chris finds himself laughing alongside him. They did pay a pretty dime to be here for the special event, he might as well enjoy it. The two men go off in their separate ways not long after. It feel weird for Chris to window-shop like this, almost uncomfortable. It's not until he comes across a familiar name that makes his heart skip.
Nyx, he almost sings. You have your ass out at the height of his hips. He takes a few steps closer as if he couldn't believe it's actually you. Chris takes note of your of your swollen clit, the gaping hole, the cum that drips down your thighs. Without thinking, he reaches out his ands to rub your ass. Not sexually, but more in a comforting way. He can tell this takes you by surprise because you jolt.
"Poor baby," he says sympathetically. It's not loud enough for you to hear, but he can't help but want to console you. From the description he read of you before, he thought this was the last place you'd be. His hands stay soft, and he finds himself kneeling. He can feel the wet floor staining his pants, but he doesn't care.
To put on a show, you wiggle your ass for him. You think the man behind you is going to shove himself in, but you feel a hot tongue. You gasp as the sensation. Since you first clock in, no one had eaten you out. You honestly didn't expect anyone to. You're covered in other men's cum, who in their right mind would consider such a thing?
Chris would, in a heartbeat. If it's to soothe you, he would do anything. He feels like he owes you something. Sure he paid you after the last interaction, but it still felt like it wasn't enough. Tasting men's cum isn't pleasant, but hearing your muffled moans though the walls was worth it.
It reminds him of last time, how desperate you sounded with his mouth on you. He wished you could see his face, watching as your mouth twisted in pleasure. Even now, he's still wishing for the same. His mask is pulled down under his chin while he devours you. Your legs struggle to keep you up right, but you stay on your tiptoes.
You can hear him slurping behind you, his hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep you spread. His tongue flicks over your bud and goes back to teasing your entrance. You could feel your arousal seeping out, and that seems to spur him on more. Your hands grip the bar above the bed, and you so desperately want to grip his hair instead.
Despite being here for three hours, you haven't came. You've gotten close to finishing, but men always finished before you did. It left you frustrated, yearning. You pray that the man eating you keeps going until you cum, but you know better than to hope for that. Instead, you try to grind against his face with what little movement you have.
"Shit. You like that baby?" You hear him ask. His voice is vaguely familiar, a twist of a distinct accent you swear you've heard before. You nod though he can't see. "Fuck yes. Don't stop," you moan. Perhaps it wasn't smart to command the client to please you, it's the other way around after all. To your surprise, he keeps going. He has his tongue dip inside your pussy, feeling your smooth walls.
It's so unbelievably sexy of him to eat you out. He must look humiliating; on his knees, sucking out the cum of other men into his mouth, the filthy sounds that leave his throat. He's eating you like he's never had a good meal in his life, like he missed your pussy. His tongue is experienced too, and you can't help but think this is also familiar.
That recognizable knot in your stomach gathers, and you begin shaking. If he pulls away now, you think, I'll quit. You don't even have to tell him you're close, he can feel how you tighten around his tongue. He quickly pulls away and shoves a finger inside before you could complain. It's difficult to eat you out now that his finger is in the way, but he can use his other hand to replace his mouth.
Chris rubs your clit in circles while he pumps you with his other finger. You squeal at the impact, feeling how his hand meets your ass when he goes deep. Your toes curl, eyes roll back to your head, and loudly moan when you cum on his fingers. It's been so long, so long since you've cum from a client. The last time was with that Koala guy, the one with the...accent.
Realization hits you quickly. You don't even have the chance to say anything with how he finger fucks you through your orgasm. "Wait! wait wait wait..." Chris immediately stops when he hears you. He gently removed his hand from you and you almost fall limp. His hands catch your waist and he keeps you up.
"Are you okay?" His voice is full of concern, full of care. Yeah, that can only be one person. You laugh breathlessly, body still quivering from your recent orgasm. "Shit Koala. How long has it been? Like three months?" You imagine he's choked up, unable to answer you. You've had a lot of customers, and it's impossible to remember them all. Koala, however, has left quite the impression on you.
He laughs awkwardly, "Something like that yeah. Uh...how ya been?"
You blow a raspberry and chuckle, "I don't think I'm in a position for a little reunion. You came here to fuck no?" Chris is a little stunned with your words, but agrees. "Yes. Well no. I mean yes, but not like-" he keeps rambling. You take pity on him and decide to take the lead, "No no I get it. You came here to fuck my pussy right?"
Chris feels like his face is on fire. He wish he could deny it, but he can't. He did come here with hopes of seeing you, to feel you again. Sure he could have fucked any girl here, but how could he when he knew you were here. All pretty and prepped for him. "What if I said yes?" he teases. "Would that make you happy?"
It's surprising to hear Koala tease you back, but you're more than happy to oblige. "Hmm...maybe. It's been a while since you've fucked me, might not be as good as before." Chris laughs, hands squeezing your ass, "I think you know you're lying to yourself. Got you cummin' on my tongue in minutes. Imagine what I could do with my cock."
His confidence has you horny. Before, he was pliant and submissive. He's a totally different man now, who knows what happened in three months. It could also be the fact that he can't see you properly, so it gives him some courage to be bold. No matter, you find it beyond attractive.
"All this talking and no fucking," you complain. "Maybe you are rusty."
In all honesty, Chris hasn't really fucked after you. He rarely did in the first place, but he genuinely thinks no one can compete with your cunt. He knows you're joking with him, but it still makes him nervous. Three months is a long time, he might have lack in some aspects now that he's the one taking control.
Still, he's given such a golden opportunity to show you that he can please you. Chris's grip on your ass tightens for a brief second before he grabs ahold of the base of his cock. It's already hard, red from screaming at Chris to put it in. He uses one hand to guide his cock into your abused hole and the other to rub soothing circles on your waist.
You can't help but smile. It doesn't how dirty he can talk or act, he's still a gentleman at heart. The nearly forgotten stretch makes you whimper when he puts his tip in. His cock is hot and can easily slide in with no problem. Despite that, he still take his time. Chris really wants you to feel how you pussy stretches around him, how he can glide against your warm walls.
Your knuckles turn while from gripping the bar so hard. You almost want to scream at him to hurry up and fuck you. Instead, you find yourself whimpering the contact. Your hips move against him to try and slip his dick in. It works a little, feeling his cock roughly an inch deeper. You can hear him moan behind the wall, a breathy higher pitched whine that makes your cunt wetter by the second
"You still sound so pretty," you whisper. You doubt he can hear you from the other men and women fucking, but he does. Little did you know, that he has his ear against the wall. Chris just needs to hear how you sound, what noises you make. He knows he must look so pathetic, and he's grateful that Lee Know is no where in sight.
Finally, he fills you up completely with his girth. Your legs twitch and squeeze together at the intrusion. You can feel the tingles that travel up and down your body from pleasure. Whimpers and moans leave you lips when he starts thrusting. You're thankful for the wall that separates you two. Before, you had tried to remain professional. Now you can be as loud as you please without worrying. Well...that's what you think at least.
The combined feeling of your soft pussy and beautiful moans break Chris's sanity. Both of his hands grip your sides so he could bring you to meet his thrusts. It's so loud and wet, he thinks you two must be the loudest in the room. Chris loves watching as your cunt drools on his cock, leaving strings of arousal on your ass and his thighs.
You're on the verge on tears letting this man fuck you relentlessly. It feels so indescribably amazing, you let your mouth hang open. "Oh fuucckk," Chris hears you groan. Heat and pleasure remain in your lower stomach, slowly building. It's torture with how it feels like too much and not enough all at once.
You find yourself wishing you could use your hand to rub your clit, but the wall prevents that. instead, you try grinding your thighs together tightly for stimulation. It works, but at the cost of choking Koala's dick. He whimpers, almost pained from the sudden tightness. He moves his hands to the inner parts of your thighs and spreads them open in response.
"Gonna break my fuckin' cock," he mumbles, lightly laughing. Chris resumes his thrusts, but he notices the constant moving of your hips. So much so that he even slips out momentarily. He thinks that it's getting too much for you, but the way you're begging for him to shove it back in says otherwise.
"What's the matter baby?" His voice is light. His strokes are softer now, giving you the ability to speak properly. You take a few heavy breaths before answer, "Touch me." You sounds so desperate, so out of your character that Chris almost wants to tease you further.
Almost.
He concludes that you must be getting close, just wanting to extra rubbing to really get off. Chris grants your wish and uses his fingers to rub circles on your clit. Your reaction is immediate, bucking and crying out in gratitude. Chris smiles fondly at how your body replies to his touch. Now he can tease you without feeling guilty.
"What do you saaayy?" He speaks in a sing-songy voice. Had you been fully cognitive, you would've cursed him. You headspace isn't working though, and you find yourself expressing your appreciation quickly. "Thank you daddy. Thank you thank you. I needed it sooo bad."
The pet name throws him off, making him stutter his hips for a split second. Chris deeply blushes at the term, unsure if he hates it or loves it quite yet. "Yeah? You like daddy's big cock in you?" He decides to test it out. Maybe it's because you're beginning to enter the sub-space zone, but you cum unexpectedly on his dick.
Chris feels you twitch around him and convulse. There was no warning, save for how creamy his length had gotten from your excitement. He almost praised you for how beautifully you painted his cock. Chris pulled himself in and out of you slowly to watch the white substance spread.
You couldn't stop moaning, fully crying from the orgasm. You normally had a good gauge on when you could cum and how to prolong it, but Koala had proven to fuck you up in more ways than one. You body shook and hugged his cock practically lovingly. Feeling him slide his dick slowly inside of you only make you wail louder.
Once Chris felt like you had come down enough, he fucked you with intent. He doesn't know how he was able to last this long, but he's chasing his own orgasm now. You can do nothing else but to take it. You groan everything he hits your deep, tip touching your womb. You can feel your cream dripping down your thighs.
This only encourages Chris more to finish. He wants nothing more than to mix your arousals together. Chris throws his head back and groans, letting his dick settle fully inside you when he cums. Hot spurt bursts in your tummy and you moan at the warmth. You usually detest having clients cum in you, the clean up was irritating. Koala, however, is an exception. He's invited to cum where he pleased when it comes to you.
Hearing him though the walls is bliss, and you wish you could see his face. He's probably still wearing that stupid mask, you think.
Chris lets himself give a few more good thrusts before pulling out, leaving you empty. He uses his thumb to spread your pussy lips to look at how your cunt pools his cum out. He hums at the sight, and gives your pussy a slap. You jolt and yelp at the contact, still sensitive.
"Guess I'll take you answer as a yes," he suddenly says.
Rather than leaving, Chris keeps massaging his cum and your own around your lower lips. You sigh contently as you feel him explore your folds. He's not doing it hard enough to give intense pleasure, but enough to feel soothing. It must be a mess down there, but Chris is entranced by the sight.
He so distracted that he didn't hear Lee Know's footsteps coming at the side of him. It's not until Chris feels his presence that he turns. They make eye contact for a moment before Chris straightens up, wiping his wet hands on the wall. The men have a silent exchange of words before Chris withdrawals his hands from you.
Before you can protest, Koala gives you brief reassurance. "I'll see you tomorrow."
You hear his footsteps leave along with another pair of feet. His sudden departure leaves you feeling somewhat cold, but you quickly dismiss the feeling. It's business, nothing personal. It's something you've had to remind yourself for years working this job. This particular instance, though, leaves you more than just your pussy empty.
-
"See you tomorrow," Lee Know mocks Chris's earlier words on the way home. Chris has no choice but to put up with Lee know antics. He keeps rubbing in his face how he got to fuck five different girls while Chris only did one. Not that it really matters to Chris, but he knows that Lee Know is much more aware of his little crush now.
After finishing up his laughter, Lee Know throws an arm over Chris's shoulder. "I'm just teasing you man. But I was right you know. That you would like it." Chris can't help but smile upon seeing his friend's cheesy expression. "Yeah yeah, whatever," he playfully rolls his eyes.
"But really," Lee Know questions, "You'd be down to go again? Just for her?" Chris stops walking for a second to think, eyes up to the sky. The night is clear, stars and moon shining down on them. He doesn't know you well, only that your pussy and his cock belong together. Going to that club often would hurt his wallet over time, but he's starting to think that it may be worth it.
"Yeah, just for her."
a/n: really hope you liked it! feedback is appreciated. I am not planning on making a third part to this imma be honest, but I might write an epilogue if it's highly requested.
update!: third part here
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satoruwiki · 3 months
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ᡴꪫ PIMPᝰ.ᐟ
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MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!
content: nsfw; smut; afab!reader; jjk hcs; mention of sex work; pimp!sukuna
n/a: a little disclaimer that i do not condone sex work! if that’s your line of work, it’s up to you and if you’re fine w/ it, that’s okay too! this is merely fiction. i know and understand that situations like the ones presented between a pimp and a sex worker are most unlikely to happen in real life. these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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pimp!sukuna that picks you up at your lowest, promising you a quick way to get good money.
pimp!sukuna that coaxes you into working for him. you were so naive and in need for money and shelter that you inevitably agree.
pimp!sukuna that gives you extra money since you work so hard for him. “treat yourself, you deserve it angel,” he says.
pimp!sukuna that beats someone’s ass—sending them to the hospital—after they tried to take a service from you for free.
pimp!sukuna that buries his cock deep into your cunt as a ‘thank you’ from you.
pimp!sukuna that takes the habit of fucking you every now and then, unlike other girls, whom he discards afterwards. it's unusual, truly. why doesn't he had have enough of you yet?
pimp!sukuna that can’t stand you working for him anymore. He hates the idea of other men touching you and taking what he now considers his.
pimp!sukuna that starts to woo you, taking you on fancy dates, gifting you nice and expensive gifts.
pimp!sukuna that takes you out of the sexworking line to have you as his stay at home girlfriend.
pimp!sukuna that couldn’t care less about your past. After all, he’s the one who put you in that line of work. It doesn’t matter to him if you’re “all used up” like you said during one of your breakdowns.
pimp!sukuna that comforts you the only he knows how to: fucking you dumb.
pimp!sukuna that still calls you his “angel” despite everything you’ve done and been through.
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nouearth · 10 months
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servicing justice: superman [1]
pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!
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it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.
“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.
for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.
or maybe you’re just naïve.
all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.
you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.
“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.
your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.
“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”
“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.
“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”
it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.
the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.
“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.
“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.
before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.
“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.
“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.
“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”
“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.
he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.
it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.
remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.
“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.
in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.
“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.
“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.
“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”
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© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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minotaurlover · 29 days
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sexworker!human reader who focuses on beasts and mosters, who becomes a favourite of said clients because she's both willing and able to take more than humans usually can...
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strangerdangerwrites · 8 months
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the art of lies | t.s. (fantastic beasts) - chapter one
Summary: all your life you had been handling the dirty truth, and here he comes presenting you with his sweet lies. 
Pairings: Theseus Scamander x Fem!Reader
genre: romance, mature audience intended
warnings: mature themes, implied sexual content, sexworker protagonist, pleasure house (brothel), smoking
the art of lies masterlist
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IN THE ABSENCE OF DAYLIGHT, Paris comes alive, after all, it is known as the City of Love.
Love in the form of freshly picked flowers from the florist.
The sweetest chocolate that tickled your taste buds.
Hand-written poems that rivaled world-renowned poets.
A love so sweet and tender that it caresses you gently in the night
But that certainly wasn’t the truth, it never was. Love wasn’t like that. 
Love was the thorns that hid beneath the roses.
Love was the bitter taste that lingered in your mouth after your first dark chocolate.
Love was the letter from lovers that had written goodbyes instead of ‘I’ll stay’.
Love was the harsh tug of your hair, the rough hands that hold your wrists, saying the words ‘You are so beautiful’ only when you are in the middle of the bed, spread willingly to the desires of man. 
Here, in Paris, is nothing but filled with nights of debauchery where all senses are thrown out the window. The sickening smell of expensive perfume and wine drowning you in the world of sins. And Paris was notable for it, here you are free! Or so they say.
Truth be told, you could never be free, always staying in hiding from the Non-Magiques. And here you were indebted to your handler, Madame Blanche, the owner of the renowned luxurious Maison close ‘Amour Délicat’. 
Like her name, the whites in her hair and the sharp look in her eyes tell her story. She was a former courtesan before and when the first war of the non-magiques happened there she learned something that would give birth to her only child, the Amour Délicat. When she shared the truth of what was happening in the world of the non-magiques to the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France (Ministry of Magical Affairs of France), Madame Blanche was greatly compensated, and there from the ground up, she built her history. 
Madame Blanche is far from the harsh and ruthless handlers in the non-magiques world of prostitution; she is commanding and ruthless. When she saw the reality of the world, it opened her mind to do whatever it takes to protect herself, and that is by being well-known that you create a sense of security in being seen. Here she opened her doors to those willing to work for her, at first, many were wary as to join and take employment, the look of disdain and gossip were indeed not for the faint of heart. 
And you who had nothing to lose, took the first bite and jumped straight into death potion. 
You, who only had your name and the clothes you wore on your back crawled straight inside Pandora’s box. 
Madame Blanche had saved you, she had given you a roof, food, clothes, and the protection that you needed. The life you formerly had was long gone; it was all in the past, thrown into the sea to be forgotten.
And here you learn to be a great witch. She first-hand, had taught you how to be a legilimens, as her first courtesan, she has taught you how to traverse the mind easily, to learn secrets, and how to use them to your advantage.
“The most powerful of witches and wizards can all be defeated by the secrets they hide.”
While the other courtesans were only taught surface-level legilimency, you were a natural. Not only can you do it nonverbally and wandlessly, but you can also communicate with others telepathically. Madame Blanche had opened you to all possibilities, and with that, she entrusted you with the highest position of being her right hand.
And your skill at legilimens always comes at night when you bed another clientele. And in the middle of pure ecstasy, they reveal the truth unwillingly. Here in the dimmed candlelight, you walked through the halls of their mind unlocking every door with a skeleton key of your abilities. No matter how many layers, or how many locks they keep, trust you could open it with ease. Secrets like marital affairs, financial debt, graft and corruption, illegitimate children, crimes, enemies, first love, their favorite color, the last thing they ate, their thoughts at that very moment… you can see and feel. An out-of-body experience, stripping you naked from yourself, from what you are and who you were. Here you forgot you were even breathing.
You didn’t realize you had been lying on the bed still for the last few minutes, the house elf, Bernadette, had been looking at you worriedly, and in her hand was your dressing robe, colors almost like the blinding light.
“Was the man harsh on you today, Miss?” She asked, placing the mulberry silk robe on your hand. You gave her a small smile and shook your head. The faint marks of rope were the clear sign of your lies, yet you were accustomed to it.
“It is alright. Run my bath for me?” With a wave of her hand, the bed took itself towards the laundry room and came in a small golden tub that fit your frame. Muttering a spell it filled the tub with bubbles and water, you stood before it before hitting it with a wave of your wand. The gramophone in the room suddenly erupted into soulful jazz music. With a scrub and a bar of soap ready at hand, Bernadette tried to assist you but you declined. Stepping foot into the warm bubbly bath.
“I would like a moment alone.” You waved your hand as soon as the words left your mouth, the house elf knew to leave you to your own devices. You were a grown woman, a woman who has been doing these for the last decade. And whenever you tried to look into your future, all you could see were the grand walls that painted your very eyes, the moving wallpaper depicting fields of various white flowers, you were stuck in Amour Délicat for the last moments of your life. This was the only thing you will ever know. You were indebted and grateful to Madame Blanche, and that led to your loyalty. She protects you and everyone in the Maison close. Outside these walls was uncertainty.
In the hot water, you submerged yourself trying to wake yourself up to the fact that this is your life. Yet when the warm glow of the city, fireworks erupted the skyline, muffled by the water you sat straight to peer at the noise. Without even looking, you knew families were in their own homes, enclosed with the scent of pastries and the warmth of their own fireplace. It was just a few minutes before New Year's Eve, and here you were working. Alone, staring into the distance, craving the sense of a warm home. 
Holding your knees close to your chest, you stared at the skyline as Muggles and Magical people alike celebrated the night with a bright display of fireworks. 
Unbeknown to you, Clarice, the receptionist had been preventing the members of the British Ministry of Magic from stepping foot towards the quarters an hour before the new year would start.
“You cannot go inside; this is a private and respectable property,” Clarice spoke, her accent rushing the words as panic littered her veins. Her arm at ready with her own wand. The lounge was filled with thick air as the British aurors pointed their wand at the girl, not understanding a word she shouted. 
Click-clack! Click-clack!
With every slow step, Madame Blanche descended the stairs. 
“And what do you English want? Here to close Amour Délicat? You don’t have the right.” Madame Blanche boasts, looking at the men below with her chin pointed upwards. Looking at them one by one, the Madame could not read their minds, the British aurors have been trained in occlumency. Remaining calm, she stood on the balcony, overlooking the whole crowd below.
“We were looking for one of your workers. I believe they have the answers to the disappearance of one of the assistant delegates of the British Department of the International Confederation of Wizards.” Torquil Travers claimed, holding a photograph of a man in his middle 30s-40s. 
Summoning the paper in the grasp of the Madame, she looked at the photograph intently, racking up all the lists of their clients. Without even showing hints of recognition, Madame had thrown the paper back into the hands of the aurors.
“I believe you must have a permit before we further your inquiries. If not, then leave.” Turning around, she waved a hand to open the large doors.
“We have it, signed and approved by your own Minister.” Stopping in her tracks, the auror walked up to the steps and held it right in front of the Madame’s face. Now a hint of annoyance was painted on her pointed brows.
“Come to my office, only I can accommodate two of you. Choose wisely.” Madame Blanche said in a cold tone, not even bothering to wait for aurors as she walked straight to the lift.
“Scamander! Come with me.” Travers could upon the young man, the older auror respected the young man’s abilities and thinking, after all, he was a respectable war hero.  
Stepping into the lift, the walls were decorated with moving painted white flowers, the madame touched the button to the highest floor, and the black lining of the lift showed its elegance. As the Aurors stood behind her, eyes darted across each other in nervousness. The Brits showed no sign of anxiety, even if that was far from the truth, the Madame held an air of regalness suffocating them with the scent of floral perfume. As soon as the doors of the lift parted for her, the room was quite the luxury and beauty with its eclectic interior, engulfed with knick-knacks from travels, moving statues, paintings from famous muggles, and the large glass pane showing the night sky. 
In the middle of the room was a velvet green chair, a large glass table, and a lone flower sitting in the golden vase.
“Sit.” She pointed toward the chair in front of her, while she remained standing encircling the room looking at the Englishman that disturbed her home. 
“Our clients value discreteness, we simply could not disclose it easily… yet since you presented me with a hand-written note by our minister I must oblige to your request. Then talk, what is it that you want?”
“We are looking for Charles Moore. He has been in charge of communications with the French Ministry as a part of assistant delegate for our Ministry, he asked to be assigned here after the Muggle World War. The day he was posted to return, he didn’t. And we believe that in his letters to his sister, he claimed to be…”
Madame Blanche raised her eyebrow at Torquil Travers waiting for him to spit it out.
“In love.” Theseus replied. “He claims that he has found the love of life here in Paris and was planning to buy off her indenture. Or so we believe.” 
Madame Blanche scoffed.
“There are many dames in Paris, and he chose to settle with a courtesan?” Madame Blanche laughed, making Travers find it humorous as well. In the keen eyes of Madame Blanche, he saw Theseus's brows turn into a frown before shifting back to biting his cheeks.
“Are you certain that it was in Amour Délicat?”
Theseus answered with a nod. 
There were three letters in total from Charles Moore to his sister. And for the past few days, Theseus had been assigned to look for the exact description of the building. He alone took the time of the day, looking at details of every establishment and brothel in Paris, from the world of the muggles to hidden alcoves of the French Wizarding World. After 2 days, he had seen the exact description of the magnificent-looking walls lined with silver and the sweet nauseating scent of flowers, that’s when he knew this was it.
First Letter:
Dearest Ange,
I believe I have found the love of my life! No one is ever as beautiful as her. No amount of theatrics on the show could ever take my eyes off of her. She sat there like a flower, waiting for me.
As soon as the play was over, I tried to approach her. Tell her to take my hand and run away with me. Oh, Ange! I never felt something like this. This must be what love is. Yet, my heart turned to pieces when I saw her taking the arm of another man, walking together side-by-side as they left the theater. I trailed behind them, and saw the most luxurious of buildings, sparkled with silver linings and flowers decorating its walls. Then I stopped and stared, and the man left her there. That’s when I realized what it was… I know this might sound ridiculous, but she is working in the red-light district and with that, no amount of apprehension could hinder me. I know you would flip the whole house upside down, but Ange this is love. I am certain of it. No amount of your denial could keep me away from this.
                                                                                                             From your darling brother, Charlie.
Second Letter: 
Dear Angelique, 
With the amount of your reply, I take that your silence was your approval. 
Today, I took liquid courage to go ahead and talk to her. But the only way was that I had to pay a fortune. I walked to the receptionist with high hopes, and with her assistance, she immediately gave me a room. With flowers in hand, I waited for her only to get my hopes up when another girl walked into the room. I was filled with disappointment. I asked the lady of the night for the description of my love, and she claimed that she was part of the ‘bouquet de blanc’. First-time patrons' pocket money is not enough to gain an audience. And me being an assistant could only lead me to certain places, yet I will persevere. 
 Give me a few more days and I’ll be able to, no matter the cost.
                                                                                                             From your brother, Charles.
Last Letter:
To my Darling Sister,
I hope this letter finds you well, I could not disclose to the ministry the cost of my expenses… but I found another way. Worry no more. Today, I will finally be able to talk to her.
The day that I return home is when she is with me.
                                                                                                             From your loving brother.
Placing the letters right in front of the Madame of the house, with a lifted finger her smile faded into a scowl. Someone from the inside was spreading information about her courtesans; Bouquet de Blanc was valued in secrecy. This was a catalog of their courtesans that had regular high-paying patrons, and this was not open for viewing so easily. Patrons that were deemed valuable to her and her Maison close were accommodated, the pure-blooded noble families, higher ranking officials, royalty even. And someone from the lower ranks of her courtesans had their tongue quite willingly.
Waving her wand, she summoned a large logbook. There inside was information such as names, professions, ages, nationalities, and ranks of their patrons, of course, the courtesan they were assigned to. Whispering the name Charles Moore, it skimmed through the pages with ease, and there in bold letters was the name of the auror the Brits were looking for. Travers tried to peer at the other listed names, his curiosity taking the best of him.
“Curiosity is the lust of the mind, Mr. Travers. Why don’t you sit still, and I’ll call upon her.”
Closing the book harshly, Madame called upon Bernadette. Apparating next to her mistress, Madame Blanche whispered to call the girl. Nodding the house elf disappeared within a blink of an eye. Behind them, the elevator dinged, while the Madame tapped on the book with carefully manicured nails. 
“It is New Year’s Eve; would you like to avail of our services? It can easily be arranged. I know it’s a long journey and your work for your ministry is greatly appreciated, it wouldn’t hurt to take the night off— to indulge yourself in your sensual desires.” 
The older man shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Suddenly they were interrupted when the elevator doors dinged, signaling the arrival of the courtesan. Turning around a slender figure stepped foot in the room, She wore a long flowing green nightgown.
“Come in here and greet the Brits, Maeve. They would like to talk to you about Charles Moore.” Madame Blanche pointed to the aurors in front of her, the back of the courtesan’s neck grew in a cold sweat.
“I–I do not understand Madame Blanche. I didn’t do anything wrong! The man asked– and I swore that was the last of it, I told him what he wanted to hear.” The girl's pleading cries fell on deaf ears as the aurors could not understand what she was crying about. Theseus' eyes darted between Madame Blanche and the girl’s tear-stricken face. While Torquil Travers stood to show his authority, ready to apprehend the girl.
Within just a few seconds, Madame Blanche had already seen the inner linings of the girl’s mind. The fear registered in her thoughts while she traversed doors upon doors to look for the memories of the missing delegate, and right there she found what she was seeking.
In just a few quick strides, Madame Blanche towered over the girl with a look of disdain painted on her red lips. The old mistress, jaw held tightly as she wiped the tears of the girl. Only to hold the young girl’s face tightly, her long nails pierced through the delicate skin while she stared straight down into the young woman’s eyes with an intense look, unblinking. 
“You may leave, pack your bags, and look for work elsewhere. I do not take it kindly to those willing to open their mouths willingly to my secrets. Bernadette, escort her out of here. I have found what I’m looking for.” 
The girl refused as the house elf dragged the wailing girl back to the elevator, screams of ‘no’ echoed through the walls. 
Travers, who was far too confused, shouted for the house elf to stop as the girl was a key witness. Even pointed his wand threateningly at the old mistress, ready to cast a stunning spell within the tips of his lips. The madame disarms him with a flick of her wand, his wand went flying right off his grasp and cluttered on the hardwood floor. Madame shook her head no when the auror Travers tried to pick it up. 
“You’re a legilimens.” Theseus muttered; Madame Blanche turned around to face the man giving them a tight-lipped smile and nodded. 
“Would you like to view the girl’s memory and be done with it? I need to run my business after all.” Offering to perform legilimency to project the memories to the aurors, they declined. They knew not to, after all, they too have secrets that protect their ministry. 
“We decline. We, Aurors value our minds and do not open them so willingly.” Travers stated, still apprehensive of Madame Blanche. “But the girl needs to be questioned, we have to have her testimonials as to Moore’s disappearance.”
“Then you must trust my word because I too have my secrets to keep. That girl didn’t kill or cause his disappearance. He came in here one night, to question about the catalog of my courtesans and that was it–”
Cutting off the handler of the brothel, Theseus insisted; “Charles Moore stated in his letters about a ‘bouquet de blanc’. I hope that might ring a bell, after browsing through your catalog in the lobby earlier. I couldn’t find traces of this list, is this a secret that you are hiding from the ministry?” 
Madame Blanche’s eyes narrowed at the young auror; her piercing ice-blue eyes almost looked like they could kill.
“No, of course not. My bouquet de blanc is the Amour Délicat trade secrets. I could not easily say it out loud for fear of our competitors copying what I built from the ground up. If you would like to browse that catalog, then let me— although I must say, we do not easily offer our services freely.” Walking towards a dark oak cabinet grabbing a large book with golden linings. Placing right back at the table, Madame Blanche flipped through the pages with images of different courtesans, and right on its last page was a picture of you. 
“I believe she is the one he is asking for.” She pointed with a manicured finger, right before your name was a title given to you. 
Queen of the Night; Night-blooming Cereus
You were smiling, looking right at the onlooker like it was destined. While others bashfully hid their eyes, sultry looking to get admirers, you didn’t need to do that. You had your charm, something that allures the onlookers to choose you. Madame Blanche tried to flip the page to show them another photograph of you leaving nothing to the imagination to the spectator, but Theseus stopped her.
“I think that is enough, could you summon her to talk to us.” Theseus declared with a cough, standing up to close the book and stepping right in front of Travers' line of sight. “Please.”
Madame Blanche smiled, this time it was far different. “I believe your permit only limited you to talk to one of the key witnesses… And since Mr. Moore was not a benefactor of bouquet de blanc, I know because I am the only bookkeeper of that catalog… you must pay a hefty price.”
Now, the Aurors were stuck in the beginning, only pieces of blocked paths. If Charles Moore was not on the list of high-ranking patrons, then they could only comply with the demands of the authority and right now it wasn’t them who was holding the winning cards. When Travers' authority gets threatened, he scoffs, ready to drag Theseus out of the old woman. Madame Blanche truly was a businesswoman, she played them a fool. Whether they get out of the establishment empty-handed, or with empty wallets was their choice. They could simply not arrest the old woman, this was out of their jurisdiction, they were out of their element and far from their own country, and they simply couldn’t do whatever they wanted. 
“Either you pay full price, or you will tell me why such a simple assistant is being hunted down by the best Aurors of the British Ministry. Pick your price.” She sat arms folded right in front of her face, holding her chin while she grinned at the standing men.
Within a minute of no one budging, Travers' patience wavered. With a deep sigh, he faltered. With one last glance at Theseus, he held his head low. 
“Charles Moore stole 4,000 galleons. We believe that he tried to buy her indenture and convince her to come to London with him.” Travers confessed. That was the half-truth, Theseus’ senior took out the part that it was from the subsidy for international affairs. And the way he stole it was undetected like he had some insiders to help him, they were now battling an unseen threat. They only noticed it was missing after 3 months, when Theseus looked at the accounts and noticed that something was awry.
Madame Blanche started laughing, “He believes he can buy off her indenture for 4,000 galleons. Oh, what a joke! That’ll only cost him half an hour at most”
When Madame Blanche stopped laughing, she pointed back to the lift doors. “Head to the floor below. I’ll tell her I sent you.” The aurors nodded and headed to leave only to be held when the Madame halted them to stop.
“You endanger my investment; I’d rather you stay here than be near one of my priceless courtesans.” She stated, pointing at the older auror. Theseus can see his senior jaw tightened, and the veins on his neck grew red in anger. Not only was the older auror disarmed, but he was also being held under surveillance in fear that he might endanger you, now his patience and authority wavered on thin ice, and his eyes clouded with anger.
“I’ll talk to her and I’ll find what we need.” Theseus whispered as soon as he stepped foot in the lift. The doors closed slowly; he saw Madame Blanche’s eyes watching the other auror like a hawk. 
When the doors for the lift opened, what greeted him was a vast hall painted like the night sky. With a slight shift of his eyes, he can see the tiny freckles of stars that decorated a lone white door. Unlike the outside of the establishment, this seemed out of place with the flower motifs of Amour Délicat. Here he can feel the cold breeze of the winter night. Knocking on the white door, he called out to the name he had seen written on the catalog. 
You who had been preoccupied with your thoughts; wishing to know the feeling of stepping out of your body, floating, freely, like the ghosts that linger down the dark alleys. Right outside the window, the streets erupted in cheers as they all greeted each other another happy new year. Drinking down the champagne that was given to you by a patron, noting a taste of toast and coffee and a subtle spice drowning out all your other senses. When the fireworks ended, you lay there looking at the skylight as the only glow of the light left was the moonlight.
A subtle knock started you as you let Bernadette waltz her way in. Her company and the cup of tea are greatly appreciated when your water has now gone cold. But instead of the house elf, what replaced her was someone far taller than her; there he stood only the silhouette of his slender frame seen. 
Theseus didn’t expect what he saw, a lone woman basking in the golden tub, a melancholy look written in her eyes.
Sad. You looked sad. 
The only sound that could be heard was the faint hum of the gramophone across the room and the muffled cheers that erupted right behind the glass windows. With the faint sparkle of light, you saw a slight frown on his face. Realizing your predicament, you went back to wearing the mask when you were at work.
“Would you like me to keep you company?” You asked, turning around delicately, careful not to show another ounce of skin. Tilting your head to one side and smiling at him, the same one he has seen in the photograph earlier.
When Theseus realized what you were implying, he held his hand and shook his head, showing you a metal badge indicating the words ‘auror’. You had a fair share of French aurors that came to you for a night, often playing the role of the captive and captor. What a lack of imagination, if this is the role he wants to play then so be it.
“You would like to play that role? I, the convict, and you the detainer. Would you like that darling?” You asked, ready to approach him when he realized what was happening, he turned around not to face your naked form. The tips of his ears went red in embarrassment. 
“I didn’t come here for your service; I was sent here by Madame Blanche to question you. My name is Theseus Scamander, I was sent by the British Ministry of Magic.” He announced. 
Ahh… A British Auror. You hummed and stood to grab the white robe and placed it on your body. Hearing the sound of faint footsteps, Theseus waited until you gave him a signal. 
“I see… talk I don’t have all night to entertain you.” This time you put your weight and one foot, crossing your arms across your chest. Your hand laid steady on your wand.
Turning around, you pointed toward the chair that sat across from you, and he agreed to your request. As soon as he did, you went and grabbed the champagne you had been drinking earlier and procured another glass to pour him one. Placing it next to him, you stood in front of him and drank yours, waiting as he did too. Theseus eyed it suspiciously, but you continued to drink it on your own accord.
“A gift… something lighter than the fire whiskey.” You replied as you down the glass in one gulp. He nodded and carefully took a sip of his. You sat in front of him and grabbed the bottle to pour more down into your glass.
When he exhaled in satisfaction, you knew it tasted amazing. Theseus knew what you were doing, trying to lower his guard, not sitting to show you were in control, and intoxicating him to vulnerability. Yet, he remained calm, showing no signs of threat to you. If Madame Blanche was a legilimens, there was a high chance you were too, all he needed to do was throw you off his scent.
And just like he had predicted, right at the moment you tried to pry his mind. A knot on your brow formed when you stared intently at him.
‘You looked sad.’ Those were the thoughts that circled his mind, like a mantra. You can feel it. Feel him. It made you nauseous, the bile in your throat rose as his thoughts engraved into yours. No one had looked at you and thought you were sad; it was always beautiful. Sadness and you were never to be put in a sentence, and when his thoughts did it terrified you. 
To be seen broken makes you fear. To be seen feeling sadness made the feeling of being stripped naked for the whole world to see. All your life, you had built these walls that made you stand on your own two feet. The ache in your mind becomes unbearable, you weren’t beautiful… underneath all the expensive clothes, and pearls that glittered your skin— you are crooked, battered with bruises, wrecked by time, your skin filthy with sin, you were a tragedy… a rotten work.
“Stop.” With gritted teeth, you fail to look at his eyes and his mind. A slip of the tongue made you realize what you had said out loud, that was all Theseus needed to know that you too are a legilimens. “State your purposes.”
Right in the pockets of his coat was the photograph of Charles Moore, he carefully placed it on the table in front of him waiting for you to pick it up.
“Do you recognize him?” He placed the picture within your line of sight. Pausing he tried to scope for your reaction. “It’s Charles Moore, an assistant delegate of the British Department of the International Confederation of Wizards.”
“He has been missing for months and the last contact we had from him was a letter to his sister, trying to have an audience with you.” 
Your eyes examined Moore’s photograph. And minutes passed your silence almost became too heavy to Theseus's dislike, but he needed to thread your waters carefully, you were already agitated for unknown reasons.
“I believe I do not know who this person is.” You smiled and stared at Theseus, the first time you met his eyes after your outburst earlier.
He pointed out another slip of your strong facade right at its mark. “Yet you do not deny that you do recognize him.” 
“Maybe I do… Maybe I don’t. It is possible he is one of my long lists of admirers, doesn’t erase the fact that I do not know him at all.” 
“I highly doubt that. You’re a legilimens, and I am not; that is true. I need to know if you have met with him once, and if you are proven to be telling the truth then I would leave this room. But I can tell you’re lying. Skilled legilimens can procure memories into another person, and all I needed was the time and date, any people that were trailing him. Your truth is all I need.” He proposes.
“Or would you rather we do this the hard way? The choice is yours.” He leaned forward as his head rested on his knuckles.
“You give me the illusion of free choice when all you want is to pry my mind. Is there something you are not saying, Mister Scamander? Tell me the truth, what is in it for you? What would you get to look into the inner workings of my mind? You expect me to believe that you honestly want nothing else? Just my memory? I hardly doubt that.” Challenging his proposition, you leaned forward as your palms hit the glass table harshly with a loud slap, not before rebutting his claims. “Surely it could not be just you are looking for a testament, you wouldn’t work hard on that, all you needed is a vial of the strongest veritaserum and it would be done. Then why are you pushing hard to look into my mind?”
“You play a cruel game of trust.” He sighed, making you scoff. “Mr. Moore had said in his letters about how he will get the currency to meet you, his means to getting it is unsaid. And that was a clear sign that he needed someone to work with him to get that from a subsidiary of international affairs, you are simply a madman to be able to work alone. And all I need is— you. All I need is you.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. 
“I need you to work with me. You knew better than just mere rumors, you knew everyone and could see their thoughts.”
Working with the British Ministry, consider it treason. Yet, you never were loyal to this land. Your loyalty lies elsewhere, it stays to those who have given you a sense of protection. Your loyalty is within Madame Blanche’s hands. Hands that remained choking you to stay. 
Still, you let Mr. Scamander entertain you with his words.
“It would have to take you a valuable price, Mr. Scamander. I am an expensive woman, yet, I am considerate. Give me leverage and I will give you what you want.” That’s when he stopped and stared at the photo, avoiding any eye contact. “What could you possibly offer Mr. Scamander, tell me.”
You grinned as you took a sip at the champagne, just like a war, both of you had been disarming and hurting each other for the kill. Breaking down every barrier with a small slip-up of each other, both of you were professionals at your trades. He is an Auror, he knows how to spot lies and negotiate, give you the feeling of support to make you break down your armor. Meanwhile, you pride yourself on being a great liar, you know what to say to appear compliant, and you know how to adapt and play the games to your tide. Every word and sentence uttered until one of you would lose the battle of wits, one slip and the fallen would crash and burn.
Leaning back you gave him a smile, your wand procuring a cigarette that lay on the table. Placing it gently on your lips, the tip of your wand lit up a flame. With a deep inhale, you knew you were already winning the battle. You didn’t need to look into his mind, to know that he was fighting a losing war. His occlumency was far useless when the knot on his forehead and the jaunt of his chin told you he was conflicted.
“I have been offered riches that could fill De Nile, clothes that were woven from the rarest of silks, jewels that shone brighter than the sun, houses that housed thousands of rooms, paintings of the most beautiful landscapes, songs and sonnets about my beauty, the most exotics of creatures that lay hidden within the government’s grasp… Pray tell, what could a simple auror like you have that can overthrow all those proposals?”
He was silent, expression never changing. And no matter how hard you try to pry to look into his mind, it remains still like he is right in front of you. 
“Safety.” Your smile faltered. “I offer you safety.” 
You blinked and blinked. Trying hard not to show that your jaw was slack in silence; the timeliness of the gramophone hitting its ending notes was fitting. His words lay heavy on your mind.
Amour Délicat had always offered you protection, but never safety. Safety was a word often associated with emotional aspects that were never visible in your job, safety offered you the sense of never needing to keep your secrets in this line of work or needing not to utter a word that would be your downfall in these walls. Protection kept you free and sheltered from physical aspects and threats, like the two guards that trailed you whenever you needed to do outside work, or the walls that shielded you from the rain. Safety is a foreign word, way too foreign that it burns you with curiosity. A thrill you never experience on a silver platter. It gives you hope— and hope gives you greed. A greet that surpasses all material things known to man. You want to take it all, consume your being until all is left is the safety that you wanted, the safety of being able to walk free, to run away, the security of not needing to know that this is the place where you would meet your demise. 
You knew how Madame Blanche worked, she took pride in knowing secrets and that is her leverage. And right now Madama Blanche would be none the wiser when you will take his deal. And there is one thing in the world that the Madame hated, and it is to not know anything at all. 
“Give me your hand.”
“What?” 
You held your hand to him and stood up, apprehensive he stood up as well taking your hand in his. Looking up into his eyes, you called upon the house elf. Bernadette immediately appeared right beside you.
“Don’t promise me empty words.”
“I won’t.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if we made an unbreakable vow.”
Your hold on his palm tightens, only to travel into his wrist. Without breaking eye contact you give him a minute to decide what his choice would be. Does he trust you enough to do it at the expense of his life, or would he rather fear being the one to dictate his actions?
His palm pressed tightly into your wrists, not like the rough hands that occupied your wrists hours ago, his hold was gentle, not imposing. Nodding at Bernadette, a thin tongue of flame issued at the tips of the house elf's fingertips and wound its way around both your and Theseus’ hands. It felt like a burning wire, keeping your skin aflame.
“Will you, Theseus Scamander, promise to provide my safety, as he and I work together?”
“I will.”
“Will you, abide by our oath, to only tell the truth to me?”
“I will.”
a/n: dialogue that is formatted like this “dialogue” is in French. i tried hard to make it one-shot i really did, buT I SIMPLY CANT SO HERE I GIVE YOU WORLD BUILDING AND MORE LORE UPON LORE ON THIS FIC.
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bits-and-babs · 7 months
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✧ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ✧
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with one week until october, i've decided it's time i return to writing. i've planned out a release schedule for a kinktober celebration, and hope that i'll be able to complete it this year ! please enjoy, i can't wait to release work for you all again ! ღ
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from the 1st - 31st i will be posting one smut fic a day with different prompts featuring different characters. all fics relating to this event will be tagged kinktober 2023. this masterlist will be continually updated as i go.
minors dni: please note all writing in this event is not suitable for minors. if i find minors interacting with my work, you will be blocked.
content tags: please be mindful of the content tags on my fics. each fic will have it's own separate cw section, detailing any sensitive or triggering content. i give ample warning, so if you don't like do not read. all fics will be written as f!reader.
tagging: i will be tagging my usual taglist for the characters I write each day. if you wish to be tagged on each day of kinktober, please sign up via the taglist below.
navigation blog rules taglist
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𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ─
OCTOBER 001.
camgirl | simon 'ghost' riley x camgirl!reader summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared. cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.
OCTOBER 002.
touch starved | din djarin x reader summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit. cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.
OCTOBER 003.
phone sex | johnny mactavish x reader summary: on leave, johnny can't resist pestering you while you're at work. or perhaps he just can't resist you... cw: f!reader, sexting, dirty talk, voyeurism(?), begging, masturbation (m & f), orgasm denial, inferred voyeurism. this one made me blush.
OCTOBER 004.
aphrodisiac | grand admiral thrawn x reader summary: grand admiral thrawn has a unconventional way of convincing neighbouring planets to pledge allegiance to the empire. cw: aphrodisiacs/sex pollen vibes so dub-con, fingering, cum eating, political mind games.
OCTOBER 005.
clothes on | joel miller x reader summary: trapped inside a wardrobe whilst hiding from infected, joel ups the ante of survival. cw: f!reader, threat to life, mentions of gore, quiet or die kind of vibe, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie, autassassinophilia – arousal in the fear of being killed.
OCTOBER 006.
nipple piercings | captain john price x reader summary: three months into your sas training course, chief directional instructor captain john price drills you on cold-water-shock survival. cw: f!reader, cold water shock, power imbalance (recruit x directing staff), secret relationship, breast/nipple stimulation, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie.
OCTOBER 007.
incubus | maul x reader summary: a bizarre creature comes to visit your dreams, promising to satiate the desperate yearning of your body that it sensed across the plains of the force. cw: incubus! – somnophilia and dub-con by default, size kink, rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cream-pie, choking, breath play, use of pet name ‘dove’
𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎 —
OCTOBER 008.
roleplay | könig x reader summary: as with all of your bedroom antics with könig, you plant the seed. but when he finally succumbs to your devious plan, you struggle to withstand the heat. cw: roleplay hostage situation, faux attack, faux disregard for partners comfort (konig cares a lot though, i promise) oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, face slapping, rough deep throating, swallowing.
OCTOBER 009.
witch!reader | din djarin x reader summary: cw:
OCTOBER 010.
cheating | captain john price x reader summary: cw:
OCTOBER 011.
breeding kink | grand admiral thrawn x reader summary: cw:
OCTOBER 012.
caught sex | joel miller x reader summary: cw:
OCTOBER 013.
morning sex | john mactavish x reader summary: cw:
OCTOBER 014.
hate sex | oberyn martel x reader summary: cw:
𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 —
tbc...
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dollfacerecs · 7 months
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— min ⋆ yoon ⋆ gi
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myg fic recommendation list by clover. 🍀 ↓
♡ = smut ; ♤ = angst ; ♧ = fluff ; ♕ = favorite
main list
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♢ vows ; ♡, ♤, ♕ // completed — by @hamsterclaw
⇝ arranged marriage, enemies to lovers // i’ve read this a few times and i love it sm. don’t forget to go to yoongi’s masterlist to find the drabbles to this (scroll down till u see vows and u’ll see all the drabbles)
♢ monachopsis ; ♡, ♤ // series — by @personasintro
⇝ husband’s brother, sperm donor // yoongi is so fucking hot in this holy shit. imagine your husband begging his estranged brother to donate his sperm and the brother’s only condition is that he gets to fuck you raw. hello????? i love mimi so much man shes such a sickening author.
♢ away from you ; ♡, ♤ // series — by @personasintro
⇝ shitty marriage, second chance // i love the development, the angry sex, the makeup sex, the dialogue, the interactions. just chefs kiss. + dilf(asshole)!yoongi like whats not to laugh.
♢ 3 tangerines ; ♡, ♤, ♧ // series — by @kithtaehyung
⇝ big brother’s best friend, fwb // ughh such a good fic. i still need to catch up but everything up to what i read is outstanding. so sneaky :p
♢ cybersex ; ♡, ♤ // one-shot — by @gimmethatagustd
⇝ callgirl, big brother’s best friend // again, brother’s best friend au I KNOWWW but trust me guys. oooooof when yoongi finds out the girl he’s been having phone sex with is YOU i was punching my walls.
♢ look down on me like that ; ♡, ♤ // series — by @here2bbtstrash
⇝ producer!yoongi, enemies to lovers // so fuckin good. the tension, the pining i kinda went crazy over this one. i still need to finish tho so no spoilers
♢ take five ; ♤, ♧ // completed — by @jiminrings
⇝ dermatologist!yoongi, co-workers // guys when i tell you this tickles my brain so good. the yearning and the stubbornness from both sides UGHH. i love this sm
♢ yoongi’s lullaby ; ♤ // one-shot — by @jiminrings
⇝ soulmates, unrequited love // if ur looking for pure angst just read this tbh
♢ perpetual datejust ; ♤, ♧ // one-shot — by @jiminrings
⇝ model!yoongi, mutual pining // again… just angst. pain. love it tho.
♢ in the darkest little paradise ; ♡ // drabble — by @sunnebeam
⇝ gangster!yoongi, sexworker!reader // just some good ole pwp. who doesn’t like gangster!yoongi pwp tho like….
♢ after hours ; ♡, ♤, ♧ // ongoing — by @archivedkookie
⇝ basketballcaptainfuckboy!yoongi, unrequited love // guys like the angst is so heartwrenching the way reader is so pathetically in love w him and he’s just nonchalant in everything he does UGHHH pls read its saur gewd.
♢ pending…
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flightlessangelwings · 2 months
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What Was Unspoken, And What We Finally Said
Din Djarin x fem!reader
Word count-3.6k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), sexworker reader (respectfully), mutual pining, reader is said to have been with both men and women but her sexuality is up to you, unprotected sex, hj, finering, oral (f receiving), protective!Din, soft!Din, feelings, no description of reader other than body parts and no use of y/n
Notes- This is part a bonus Valentines fic and part a thank you for 5,000 followers fic! I would have liked to do a full follower celebration but since I'm low on writing time lately, I'm doing 2 gift fics for y'all instead. I just want to say thank you each and every one of you for following and supporting me all these years!
Since this is Star Wars, I looked up if there was anything like Valentine's Day and while there isn't one canonically, there is a "Lover's Day" that the fandom kinda agreed is equivalent so I used that here but it can be read any time of year since it's Star Wars and we can say it's any time lol! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!
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~
You were exhausted.
If you were honest, you weren’t even sure what day it was… or even what time of day at all. Things had never been busier at the brothel the last couple days, and you weren’t sure why. Especially today it was back to back clients for you. The extra credits were nice, and much needed, but by the Maker were you wiped out. But it wasn’t all bad. The brothel you worked at was safe and respectable and the clients almost always tipped well. You even had a lengthy list of regulars, which was nice. Many of them even came by today too.
The day started with a visit from one of your favorite bounty hunters, Fennec Shand. She was usually more quiet and stoic, but today she had an air of playfulness about her, and the smirk she wore on her face made your heart flutter. Later in the day, Axe Woves came by, and seemed more flirtatious than usual. He always left you with a wink and a kiss on the back of your hand, but today he left a lingering kiss on your cheek… and extra credits in tip. 
But there was one person you looked forward to seeing more than anyone else. And he hadn’t come by in some time. 
You let out a heavy sigh as you flopped down onto the bed. Wrapping your robe around yourself, you closed your eyes as you finally got some time to rest after a busy day. Just as your body relaxed into the plush mattress and you felt yourself about to doze off, there was a knock at the door.
“Coming,” you sighed as you pushed yourself up, ready to turn away whoever was on the other side of the door. You just wanted to rest for the rest of the night. “Listen, came you come back tomor…” you froze mid word as your eyes landed on the one person you had hoped to see, “Din!” you breathed.
“Did I come at a bad time?” he asked, tilting his helmeted head to the side, “I had a bounty in the area and I thought I would come by.” Since it’s been awhile, he thought to himself, and I missed you.
“No, no,” you ushered him inside before he could walk away, “Come in.”
The Mandalorian walked past you, entering the room while you closed and locked the door, “Everything alright?” he asked, noticing the exhaustion in your voice.
“Fine,” you replied as you crossed the room and sat down, motioning for him to sit next to you, “It’s just been really busy here the last couple days. Not sure why,” you shrugged. 
“Want me to come back another time?” he asked plainly, his tone hiding his true disappointment especially after having not seen you in so long. Din truly looked forward to the days when he could come by the brothel and spend time with you.
“I think I can muster up some energy for my favorite client,” you replied with a flirty wink. It took everything you had to not sound like you desperately wanted him to stay, and even if you couldn’t even pull yourself off the bed you would do it for him.
Din tilted his head to the side slightly as a soft amused huff escaped his lips, “Your favorite, huh?”
You heard the smile in his voice. Biting your lip and subtly shimmying your shoulders, you closed the gap between your bodies and traced the chestplate of his beskar armor with your finger, “Don’t tell anyone else. They might get jealous,” you purred as the room started to warm around you.
Din reached in his pocket, pulling out a generous amount of credits and placed them on the nearby table before he leaned in closer to you. He cupped your face, tenderly caressing the side of your head in his gloved hand, “Your secret is safe with me.” Din gently rubbed his thumb against your cheek while his large hand cradled you softly while he pushed his body against yours.
“Din…” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut and you allowed him to guide you back until your legs hit the bed. 
“I’ve got you,” he murmured as his hands moved down the front of your body and tugged at your robe. 
A gasp escaped your lips as the cool air hit your skin. But, you didn’t feel cool for long. Even through the darkness of his vizor, you could feel Din’s gaze on you, and you could tell he eyed you hungerly. The way his breath hitched whenever he saw you bare for him, the way his helmet tilted slightly, the way his hands gripped you just a little bit tighter… you knew all Din’s tells by now. And you craved the feeling of being under his touch.
“Beautiful,” Din sighed as he guided your body down onto the bed. He stood in awe over you for a moment as your robe fell open and framed your figure. His pants felt tighter as his cock reacted to the way you settled yourself, spreading your legs wide for him. Din let out a low groan as he tugged his gloves off. They were the only thing he ever removed, and he only ever took them off with you.
“Din,” you whispered again as the bed dipped as he hovered over you, “Let me…”
You ran your hands down his chest once more, imaging what it would feel like to feel his bare skin under your touch instead. You bit your lip when you reached the hem of his pants, and you expertly unzipped and freed his cock without letting any other sliver of skin show. You knew the trust he put in you, and you never took it for granted. You felt honored that he even trusted you with his real name- something else you held near and dear to your heart. 
Savoring the groan he let out, you stroked his length slowly. You made sure to squeeze right where he liked it, and you let out a whimper every time a louder growl escaped his lips involuntarily. But you let out another whine when you felt his thick fingers cupping your pussy, and you mewled when Din pushed them inside you.
Pumping his fingers to the same rhythm as you stroked his cock, your moans harmonized with his grunts as you both prepped the other. Heavy breaths filled the room as you fought to keep your eyes open and locked on his vizor. Din rested his helmeted forehead against yours as he thrust his fingers deeper inside you, causing you to cry out louder. But, being a professional, you kept your wits about you and squeezed his cock harder in response.  
Din groaned and let out an amused laugh, “Are you ready for me, mesh’la?” he cooed.
“Always,” you whispered back with a smirk of your own.
Another short huff echoed from his helmet as he murmured your name and pulled his fingers out of you. At the same time, you let go of his cock, your hand brushed against his as he reached for it to line himself up with your pussy. The two of you froze for a moment as your gazes met, and for a breath, time felt like it stopped.
A whirlwind of emotions ran through both of you as you stared at each other. It was as if you could both sense the other had something to say, and if you both had a secret you kept buried. Yet, it remained unspoken between the two of you. Your mouth dropped open and a deep breath escaped your lips, like you were about to put into words what neither of you would say.
Before you could, though, Din thrust his hips forward, driving his cock into you in one swift movement. Your head dropped down into the bed as you let out a loud, obscene moan as you felt the familiar stretch of his cock. 
“Din!” you cried out as he reeled back and thrust forward again.
“I know,” he grunted as he felt his skin sweat underneath all the armor. You had an effect on Din that no one else did. He lost all control when it came to you, especially when he was inside you. And the way you moan with every thrust of his hips only made him come more and more undone.
You cried out in ecstasy as Din rocked in and out of you in a fast and steady rhythm. Tears filled your eyes as you clutched the sheets. He made you feel something you had never felt before. And every time Din visited you, it became harder and harder to deny your growing feelings for him.
Passions ran wild as Din picked up his pace, thrusting deep into you harder and faster. He growled from under his helmet as he felt your warmth engulf his cock. Grabbing your hips, Din gave one harsh thrust, driving his length as deep inside you as he possibly could.
The gasp you let out when he did that made his cock twitch, and Din knew neither of you would last much longer. Din kept a strong grip on you as he repeated the action, changing his thrusts to slow and deep and deliberate.
“Fuck… Din…”
“I know,” he grunted.
You moved your grip from the sheets to his arms as you clung to him for dear life. With every slow, deep thrust, you felt your climax inch closer and closer and closer until you finally spilled over the edge. With a loud scream and trembling legs, you came hard on his cock. Squeezing your inner muscles as you gushed between your bodies, wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through your body as Din continued to thrust into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
With a low groan of your name, Din came right after you. He spilled himself deep inside you as he drove his cock as deep as he could once more. Din kept his pace as long as he could, riding out both your orgasms as you moaned and groaned together, clawing at each other in desperation as you did so.
After one last thrust, Din pulled out of you. He watched as you collapsed onto the bed while he regained his composure. Heavy breaths filled the room as you both came down from your highs, and Din rested himself on the bed next to you in silence. His breath hitched in his throat as you immediately rolled close to him and nested yourself comfortably against his body.
“Hey,” you breathed, breaking the silence, “Is your bounty urgent or do you want to stay for the night?”
Din let out a short laugh, “He’s frozen in carbonite,” he sounded pleased with himself, “He’s not going anywhere.”
You smirked against his beaker chestplate as his unspoken acceptance lingered in the air like a comforting blanket between the two of you. Together, you laid in silence as Din wrapped his strong arms around you. Your heart pounded at the feeling of being in his arms, and you wished that it could be like this every night. But, he was a Mandalorian bounty hunter, there was no way that was in the future for you.
Suddenly, an explosion of fireworks echoed from outside, making you gasp and jump up with fright. Din tightened his grip around you, pulling you even closer and going on high alert. The two of you looked out the window as another color firework lit up the sky in the distance. More and more fireworks continued as the show went on, and in the distance you heard a crowd ooh and ahh at the marvel of the show.
Then the realization hit you. “Maker…” you breathed as you burst into nervous laughter, “Do you know what today is, Din?”
He turned to you but said nothing.
“It’s Lover’s Day!” you laughed more to cover the nerves. You just spent the evening of Lover’s Day with Din…
He seemed to mull over for several moments, his gaze moving down before he finally said, “So it is,” Din was quiet again as he turned back to you. 
Even without seeing his face, you felt your skin warm under his gaze. Somehow, you felt all his emotions just in the way he held you, and as Din moved his hand and cupped your face your world felt like it was spinning. You savored the warmth of his touch, and you let out a deep breath as you leaned into his hand and closed your eyes contently.
“Since it’s Lover’s Day,” Din was the one who broke the silence this time, “Let me take care of you…”
“Din…”
Carefully, Din rolled your bodies so that you laid on your back while he hovered over you. Looking up at him, your breath caught in your chest and your heart fluttered as he pushed himself down and settled between your parted legs. 
You let out a whine as heat rushed through your body. All you could do was swallow hard and moan in anticipation as you watched Din lean forward so that he hovered over your exposed pussy.
He murmured something incoherent before he rested his hand on your hips, gently pinning you in place. Not wanting to let go of you, Din used the leverage of your body to tilt his helmet up while he positioned his face over your folds.
A gasp escaped your lips when you felt his breath on your skin, “Din…” you whimpered as you closed your eyes tightly.
Din growled as he licked his lips before diving into you. The cry you let out sent a jolt through his veins, and combined with tasting you, Din almost lost all his composure. “Fuck,” he groaned against you before he lapped at your cunt again.
His hips bucked against the bed as he savored the sweetness of your pussy. Din groaned into you as his hands gripped you tighter, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. And the way you moaned and cried out in pure bliss only added to the overwhelming sensations and emotions he felt.
Not having expected this, tears quickly filled your eyes and your mind and body floated in the pleasure that Din’s tongue brought you. With every lap of his tongue, you felt a shock of pleasure tingle through your veins. And it wasn’t because he physically made you feel good either. It was the act itself, Din putting himself into a vulnerable position just to lick and suck at your pussy, and doing this for you.
It had to mean something, right?
“Fuck… Din…” you whimpered as you moved your grip from the sheets to his wrists, finding just the tiny sliver of skin under his armor.
Din grunted into you as he pushed his face more against your body. His hands shifted slightly so that his fingers curled around yours, holding both your hand and your hips at the same time. As much as he wanted to murmur soft words of encouragement, to tell you to cum in his mouth, he also couldn’t tear himself away. From the first taste, Din was addicted to you, and he already knew he wanted more… Wanted you.
Your legs trembled on either side of his helmet as you felt your body warm as your climax was about to hit. Without warning, you came hard with a loud scream, arching your back off the bed and gushing into Din’s mouth as your cries of pleasure filled the room.
He slurped and sucked at your folds as he tongue hit your clit over and over again, allowing you to ride out your orgasm on his tongue. And Din greedily lapped up every drop of your release, swallowing as much of you as he could. His grip on you tightened as he moaned against your body, lapping at you until you couldn’t take any more.
With one final gasp, you flopped down limp on the bed as Din broke away from you with a huff. His helmet slid down to cover his face in one smooth motion as he sat up and licked at the corners of his mouth from under the cover of his armor.  He watched you with captivate fascination as your breasts rose and fell with your deep, heavy breaths as you recovered from your intense climax.
There were so many words on the tip of his tongue. So many things that Din wanted to tell you. The tension in the air was so thick that it almost overpowered the smell of sex in the room. Din ran his hands up and down your body, gently caressing you and letting his touch speak for him instead.
“Din,” you murmured as you broke the silence and blinked your eyes open to meet his armored figure in the low light, “I…”
He moved his hand to the side of your face, not covering your mouth but the motion itself paused your thoughts. He said nothing as he pushed himself up to your face, stopping for a moment to rest his helmeted forehead against your own. As the two of you sat like that for a few moments, he brushed your cheek with his finger tenderly. Din whispered your name as he broke away, moving his hand to cover your eyes as he did so. 
Your lips pasted with a gasp, yet you stayed still, fully trusting the Mandalorian. With your eyes covered by his large hand, your world went black. Faintly, you heard a hiss in front of you, but before you could ask what was happening, you felt something on your skin. His breath.
Din pulled his helmet up just enough to uncover half of his face. His lips felt cold as the air hit his skin, but he was instantly warmed again when he pressed his lips to yours. He swallowed the moan you let out as he kissed you for the very first time. Tightening his grip on you, Din pushed himself even closer against you, desperate to feel you as close as possible.
You surrendered yourself to him willingly. Tilting your head, you were mindful to keep your eyes covered as you deepened the kiss by parting your lips for him. Din eagerly accepted the silent invitation, and you both moaned into the other when you tased each other for the first time. The fireworks continued around you, but the only explosions either of you cared about were the ones happening between you.
“I know,” Din murmured against your lips when he reluctantly broke away from you.
You let out a deep breath against his face, and you knew he felt your smile against his skin. Din placed one last kiss on your lips, lingering on yours for several moments before he pulled away and dropped his helmet back down.
Blinking your eyes open, you grinned when you were met with the familiar silhouette in the darkness once more. A soft smile lit up your face, and it made Din’s chest tighten with the sincere look in your eyes. Just as you were about to say something, though, a knock at the door made both of you jump to attention.
Din was quick to stand and shift into attack mode. Out of pure reflex, his hand reached for his blaster, ready to protect you.
“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist with one hand as you reached for your robe with the other, “It might be another client. Hang on,” you slid the robe over your shoulders and wrapped it around you as you moved around the Mandalorian.
He didn’t stray far from you, hovering behind you as you opened the door and recognized the man who stood on the other side, “Hey, I’ve got an overnight tonight,” you told him in a kind voice, “Can you come back tomorrow? I promise I’ll leave a time open for you.”
The man stuttered as he suddenly felt nervous as the Mandalorian glared at him from over your shoulder, “Y-yeah,” he finally said, “Sure… Sorry,” he mumbled before he turned and left.
Closing and locking the door, you turned back to Din and shook your head as you grinned, “He’s a nice guy,” you explained to him, “One of my best tippers too… So please try not to scare away my source of income.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled an apology as he visibly relaxed. Din had no issue with what you did for a living, he only had your safety and best interest in mind. He had seen you mistreated once before, and while he knew it was a rarity, Din never wanted to see you hurt ever again. Especially not if he could prevent it and protect you. 
“Let’s lay down,” you said softly as you reached your hand out to him. Your heart fluttered for a moment as he took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bed where you both made yourselves comfortable. Din immediately pulled you in close and held you in his embrace. 
Settling down for the night, you never felt more safe than you did right now, in Din’s arms. Yawning heavily, you felt the exhaustion start to overcome you once more, and you knew soon you would be sound asleep, “Hey Din,” you muttered sleepily, “Happy Lover’s Day.”
Din’s breath hitched in his throat as you quickly started to snore softly. He looked forward to nights like this, nights with you. And it was pure coincidence that he happened to come to you on Lover’s Day. But perhaps it wasn't a coincidence. Perhaps he was meant to be here tonight… with you. As Din listened to your steady breaking while you slept, he leaned in and whispered, “Happy Lover’s Day, cyare.” 
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