#there’s other ways to get off that don’t have to include shoving a dick in your ass | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gutsby · 5 months

Text

Walker Bait

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Warnings: NSFW. Protected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Hatefucking, facefucking, and lots of dirty talk, leaning heavy on the “enemies” in the enemies-to-lovers trope. Mentions of a variety of sex toys and other filthy materials, including a blueberry-flavored condom and a walker wearing nipple clamps. 6.5k words.

“All ya gotta do is suck it.”

You were eye-level with the length of it now, all but staring down the barrel of the gun, so to speak. You wetted your lips, shifted uncomfortably on your knees. Then, almost reluctantly, you looked up at Daryl.

“What if it gets in my mouth?”

“It won’t.”

Daryl gripped the base of it with a sturdy hand and guided it closer to your mouth. You made a face as if to recoil, but Daryl was adamant. Insistent. One more false start and he’d probably just shove the thing down your throat. A man of many virtues he may have been, but patience was not among them.

“If I’d known you’d take this long I would’ve done it myself,” he scoffed.

You had just begun parting your lips to allow him entry, but on hearing this, you forced them shut, frowned, and opened them again just to retort:

“Why don’t you, then?! You wanna suck this shit so bad, be my guest.” You were already wobbling back onto your feet, wiping the dirt off your jeans and watching Daryl’s face turn even redder.

“‘Cause I’m teachin’ you, dipshit,” he snapped, “Can’t even tie yer fuckin’ shoes, but I figured ya maybe could siphon gas this once. My bad.”

And there it was: smug, shitstain Daryl ready to jump down your throat with another show of superiority. You couldn’t track, couldn’t forage, couldn’t hunt, couldn’t suck the gasoline out of a car or even put the hose in your mouth. You were useless in his eyes, and he was never shy to make sure you knew it. He looked you over once and hardly seemed to see you at all—just narrowed his eyes and flung the plastic tube in your direction.

Because Rick and all the rest of them were home, and you were here, scoping out the remnants of a seedy one stoplight town miles away, Daryl felt far more at liberty to act like a dick. He would’ve rather anyone been by his side but you, and he let you know as much, but somehow, in some sick and absurd twist of fate, you had been obliged to tag along. You sensed it was because you were the newest addition to Alexandria. And, quite frankly, because you sucked at every other task you’d been given, sucking gas out of cars was all that was left for you to do.

So easy a walker with a dislodged jaw could’ve done it. But you couldn’t. And Daryl despised you for it.

“Figure it out,” he muttered, turning on his heels to stalk off.

You weren’t sure if it was the irate glint in his eyes or the air of condescension in his tone, but you were floored. He’d made two, maybe three steps in the opposite direction when he felt something strike the black leather on his back. He turned again, dropped his gaze to the ground, and saw the plastic hose at his feet. When he looked back up, you were quick to trail behind, stomping past him without a second glance.

“Suck it yourself, asshole.” And you couldn’t help it; you gave him the finger over your shoulder.

You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to see the rancid, sullen scowl plastered flat across Daryl’s face. Didn’t need ultrasonic hearing to catch him curse beneath his breath and kick something at his feet. You just kept walking in the other direction and hoped with everything you had he wouldn’t follow.

When you’d made it a ways down the street and Daryl hadn’t bothered to chase after you, you breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could raid the mini mart and loot canned foods to his heart’s content or prove himself useful in fifty other ways, and you could just explore.

From the looks of it, you were at the heart of this defunct podunk town and had virtually every amenity at your fingertips.

A barbershop on your right and a dive bar on your left, two boutiques with their windows all busted in, an unsightly patch of grass that once passed as a park, and one lone Texaco, almost treacherous in the light of day as it stood without a single car stationed at its pumps. “NO WAY OUT” emblazoned on a makeshift placard and half a dozen bodies littering the sidewalk before you.

Nothing quite like that small town Southern charm.

Against your better judgment, you went fishing in your back pocket for a few familiar friends to lift your spirits. First, the near-spent package of Virginia Slims, then the lighter, then your Walkman and headphones. An admittedly lethal combination for any would-be survivor of the apocalypse—limiting your hearing and crippling your lungs was no way to live in a world like this, Carol always warned before she snatched both culprits from your hands—but you didn’t care today. You were most of the way down the street and turning down a side avenue; if any walkers were in the vicinity, you figured you would’ve heard them moaning and groaning and dragging their boney asses behind you long before. By all appearances, you and Daryl were totally alone.

You thumbed one miniature flame into view and brought it close to the cigarette you had clamped between your teeth. Then you deposited the lighter back in your pocket, snapped your headset over your ears, and fiddled with the portable cassette player until the strains of some archaic Molly Hatchet tune went spiraling in your ears—“Bounty Hunter,” by the sounds of it.

You were walking at an easy pace now. Took a left off Main and strolled quietly onto Sheppard Street, careful to dodge every bottle, beer can, and rotting body you could. You took a drag and ogled some of the saddest storefronts you’d ever seen. Windows all blown to bits and insides looking like shit as every place appeared to be looted.

It wasn’t until you’d walked a little longer and made your way past the epicenter of the havoc that you saw any spot worth looking at. Where it seemed every other place for food, clothes, firearms, or frozen yogurt along this stretch of road was ransacked and dilapidated, you noticed one building that wasn’t.

In fact, it stopped you dead in your tracks and warranted a triple take to ensure you were seeing things properly the first time you saw it. Blinking with disbelief in the face of this scorching Georgia heat, came your first, unfathomable, ‘What the fuck?’

Juicy Peach Pleasure Shop—Take a bite inside!

There were some sick, twisted people in this world before the turn, that was for sure.

You made a beeline for the entrance.

Admittedly, you’d seen your fair share of funky ass sex shops in your day, but this one took the cake. All shuttered up and seemingly untouched since the world first went to shit—because who in their right mind was robbing a pocket pussy emporium in the midst of the apocalypse?—the store was in surprisingly pristine condition.

The inside was probably tiny and grimy and crawling with walkers—but it was also now your only hope to make yourself useful to the Alexandria community, you thought.

You quickly came to realize that this store would allow you to supply a truckload of sex toys and offer every adult back home the opportunity at a kinkier recreational outlet. With a stockpile of vibrators, ball gags, and anal beads alike, you could finally show them you were good for something. Maybe even worth keeping around, in spite of your subpar siphoning skills and the fact that you’d scared off nearly every animal Daryl attempted to hunt.

You’d be a Juicy Peach pioneer, and one that was likely to meet with tremendous success, if you could just…get the damn door open.

You gave the handle several violent shakes and thrust your body against the door, to no avail.

The sun’s rays were relentless on your back and already bringing a sheen of sweat to your skin, try as you might to keep your cool. You fooled around a few more seconds with the knob, found it hopelessly stuck in its position, and were about ready to abandon the task altogether when you felt the glass begin to give way. Instead of pushing the door, all you had to do was pull it open.

If you were around anyone else but yourself and the dead, you probably would’ve blushed. Would’ve taken a peek at your surroundings, perhaps lifted one half of your headset off your ears and tried to listen to see if anyone had heard. But no, you forged ahead, as careless and oblivious as you were engrossed in the present song’s guitar solo.

Should you have bothered to do either, you likely would’ve heard a set of feet sprinting in your direction and seen someone reaching for you in a hurry. Would’ve caught a glimpse of the stranger’s left hand before it clamped over your mouth or the right as it closed around your own on the door handle and yanked it back. The next thing you knew, you were being hauled inside and held tight against someone’s body, all but immobile in their grip and struggling to gasp for air.

Then a breath, hot on your ear as the person pulled you closer:

“Herd. Don’t move.”

You tensed in Daryl’s arms and watched the scene unfold before you. Just outside the store’s boarded windows, a super-sized group of geeks began to descend on the street where you’d just been standing. Seeing them shuffle, stumble, groan, and hiss their way down, you shuddered to think you hadn’t heard them at all—and would have been overrun in a minute if Daryl hadn’t intervened just then.

The man’s hand remained glued to your mouth, sensing you might shriek as you watched the horde grow in size.

Slowly, he backed you away from the door and started looking around.

“Daryl, I—” you began in a whisper, turning around to face him.

Before you could continue, a half-rotted corpse rose from the floor a few feet away and started toward you and Daryl. You fought your first inclination to scream, remembering your current predicament, and opted instead for a frantic, furious wave of your arm as you pointed behind Daryl.

The man leveled his crossbow in a blink and had a bolt lodged in the walker’s skull even faster. You watched the body crumple to the ground, just before another one of its companions came rounding the corner.

This time, Daryl slipped his dagger from the sheath on his belt and in a single, swift maneuver, drove the blade through the walker’s temple. You watched with widened, paralyzed eyes as this one, too, dropped fast to the floor. But when it did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to displace your gaze, for something bizarre had snagged your attention.

“What in the everliving fuck is tha’?” Daryl breathed, eyes stuck to the same sight as yours.

That rank, decayed biter had a pair of nipple clamps fastened to its chest.

Just as your mind raced to furnish the man with an answer, Daryl took a sweeping look around the place and scrunched his nose.

“Is this—”

“Daryl, I can explain—”

You watched the anger flare in his eyes as he turned.

“You got us trapped in a sex shop?” Daryl snarled.

Though neither of you were in a position to speak too far above a whisper with the walkers outside, it was painfully obvious that your partner was yearning to yell in your face. In an instant, he got within an inch of it and stood towering over you, seething between gritted teeth:

“Risked our lives for a fuckin’ vibrator?”

“How was I supposed to know?” you whispered back, gesturing wildly to the window behind you.

Daryl’s fingers curled into fists, and for a second it seemed like one was primed to strike the nearest surface, but he stopped. Unclenched his hands and simply glared down at you.

“Ain’t you a peach,” he muttered, low and slow, “Ain’t you a goddamn useless little peach, huh?”

He took off in the other direction, probably in search of a back exit.

You stood and silently scolded yourself for feeling even the slightest inkling of arousal at the last, sarcasm-soaked insult. What the hell was wrong with you?

You hung back another minute or so and weren’t surprised in the least when you heard Daryl groan out loud, coming to find the back door barricaded all the way to the ceiling.

“Sonovabitch!”

Taking one, apprehensive look out the window, you observed the herd hadn’t budged. They were moving and milling about, to be sure, but the bulk of them hadn’t wavered from the shop’s front stoop, leaving you and Daryl prisoners within these four walls.

You flinched when one of the walkers bumped its near-fleshless head against the glass. Silently, warily, you backed away and hoped it wouldn’t stray any further.

At length, none of them did.

Nearly an hour had passed before you could tear yourself away from the window, watching each doe-eyed, groaning monster outside like your life depended on it. Then Daryl came staggering back, all but drenched in sweat and slashed every which way down his arms. He’d been prying whatever stuff he could get from the exit, only to find that the door itself had been boarded up and jammed shut. The herd hadn’t stirred.

Daryl had barely been able to look at you when he demanded you start looking—for batteries, rope, whatever the hell you could find in this “depraved place.” You’d gone searching without another word, and the pair of you had been radio silent ever since. Combing over aisles of porn flicks and cock pumps and pretending like this wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing either of you had ever had to do.

When the opportunity to slip somewhere else first presented itself, you took it.

Toward the back of the store, you found a set of changing rooms. All cluttered with boxes and other junk but nevertheless a potential treasure trove for supplies. You eased your way in.

To your relief, there were only two half-rotted walkers making their rounds amongst the wreckage. You knifed them both and went calmly about your business.

And for awhile, it was just that—business. You were ecstatic to find two pairs of boxcutters, a dozen rolls of tape, and more rope than you knew what to do with. You had loaded your arms chock-full of finds, were just about to step outside to show Daryl, when a clothes rack caught your eye.

You turned your head and stopped to take in the sight.

On a single, flimsy hanger at the center of the shelf, there dangled a baby pink lace lingerie set.

You hadn’t seen anything that tantalizing, lithe, and sheer in a long, long time. You were practically drawn to it, feeling your feet shuffle clumsily in its direction and your arms drop every last item they held. Surely, then, you embodied everything a Victoria’s Secret salesman could’ve dreamed—so singularly focused on that stupid piece of clothing that you were literally stepping over dead bodies to get there.

If Daryl could see you then, he’d probably slap you upside the head.

“This ain’t a fashion show, sweetheart, we got the dead beatin’ down our front door!” You could almost hear him now.

Almost. Any hypothetical harangue from your supply run partner and every other pressing concern, it seemed, was lost on you now. All you knew was lace embroidery and plunging necklines, satin fabrics and fuck-me mesh open gussets.

You were clothed in the garment quicker than you could say, ‘Bad idea.’ You did a spin in the mirror.

A thousand dumb ideas danced before your mind’s eye as you placed your hands on your hips, moved your shoulders in sync, gave your ass a little shake. It was ridiculous, but you just hadn’t thought of yourself that way in so long; it was like you were staring at a brand new reflection. Years in a noxious, nightmarish world like the one you currently inhabited would do that. Turn a person into a bloodless stoic, so focused on the means of survival that they couldn’t even say a simple—

“What the fuck?!”

Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw Daryl’s form appear in the corner of the mirror. You quickly covered your tits and turned back to look at him.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Daryl, I—”

“You off yer fuckin’ rocker or sumn’?” Daryl spat, striding right over to you, “We got a whole pack of walkers champin’ at the bit to get us outside, and yer in here playin’ dress up?!”

Daryl clenched his jaw and shoved the clothes rack to the side, sending it tumbling over the two dead walkers with a crash. You hugged your arms to your chest even tighter.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, to try and apologize once more, Daryl shoved a thick, angry finger in your face.

“If you go and get yer dumbass devoured by a dildo-wielding geek, tha’s on you. I ain’t fuckin’ comin’ ta save ya no more.”

Damn if the man didn’t have a way with words, even when he was fuming out the ears.

You glanced down and immediately wished you hadn’t. Or had, sooner. Your blue-eyed nemesis was currently sporting the largest hard-on you thought you’d ever seen.

Daryl looked down too and seemed only to grow in his anger, if that were even possible, as it appeared he was infuriated at the sight below him. Enraged with his own erection.

You almost would’ve found this predicament amusing if you weren’t still afraid Daryl might throw you over his shoulder and feed you to the herd outside. Deciding to play it safe, you kept your mouth shut and stood with your hands clasped in front of you. Eyed the outline of his dick only once. Okay, maybe twice.

When your eyes traveled back up to his face in a nervous gaze, you found that Daryl was glaring at you. A hand hovered uncertainly above his belt buckle.

“Fuck it.” You heard him say under his breath before suddenly reaching for you.

Your whole body tensed in his calloused hands as he shoved you toward the door, gripping your wrists behind your back and thrusting you ahead.

You dug your heels into the floor, uselessly, trying to stop your vicious path past the changing rooms and into the store. Your eyes widened as you saw an even larger horde amassed beyond the front door, and for several, fleeting seconds you seriously thought that Daryl might throw you out there.

“Daryl, please,” you wailed, thrashing against him, “I didn’t mean it, I was being stupid—you don’t have to do this!”

At the center of the store, Daryl stopped. Spun you around shortly to face him.

“What?”

“Don’t feed me to the herd, please, I’m begging you.” Your stomach clenched with fear.

Daryl’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. If you weren’t so goddamn terrified, you would’ve detected that tiny change was in fact amusement.

“‘M not gon’ feed you to the walkers, girl,” he grunted, all matter-of-fact. Then, just as calmly, “‘M gonna fuck you over this counter.”

Oh.

It seemed your World War Z nightmare-fantasy had taken a pornographic turn. The meaning of his words hardly registered in your brain before he shuttled you off to the cashier’s counter at the front of the store. Before you knew it, you were lying flat on a cold, glass surface and staring straight out into a sea of undead faces a few yards ahead. You swallowed.

You flinched with another grating sensation, this time at your wrists.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Daryl binding your hands together behind your back. Where he had obtained the black BDSM rope in the time it had taken him to bring you here was beyond you.

“Not to be a Debbie Downer here or anything, but isn’t this...kind of…dangerous?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the walkers outside the window.

“Don’t care.” Daryl pulled the rope even tighter.

“But they can hear us if they’re right outside.”

From your vantage point, it seemed Daryl was ready to yank your hair and pound you senseless. Instead, he smiled. Gave your ass a light pat.

“Then you’d be wise to keep tha’ pretty mouth of yours shut while I’m fuckin’ ya, sunshine.”

Daryl pressed one quick kiss on your shoulder before bounding off in the other direction. You shimmied helplessly against your restraints as you tried to flip yourself over.

“You’re sick, Dixon. You’re a sick son of a bitch, I hope you know that,” you whisper-shouted after him. You doubt he heard you but had a sneaking suspicion he’d already seen the soaked-through spot between your legs to disprove it even if he had. You pressed your head to the counter and cursed your primal instincts for turning your lower half into an uncomely mess every time a man twice your age said something mean to you.

You would’ve liked to have leaned back—or, rather, forward—and said a big ‘fuck you’ to Molly Hatchet as well for getting you into this bind in the first place, were it not for the sound of Daryl’s footsteps returning.

“Listen, I learned my lesson, Dar. If you could just untie me, we would be a lot better off figuring out a way to escape this place than—”

You yelped as something smacked your ass. It wasn’t Daryl’s hand.

“Ouch!” You strained against the rope once more, only succeeding in wiggling your ass before Daryl’s pleasantly occupied eyes.

“C’mon now, it ain’t tha’ bad, honey. Stuff’s meant to feel good,” he chided. Another strike on your ass check punctuated his words.

He was right; it didn’t really hurt. Just felt strange, all bent over and exposed before him like that. You glanced back and saw the crop in his hands, the smug look on his face, and for a second, you did feel a twinge of pleasure as you imagined him doing much more.

You whimpered when he spanked you again—this time, with the flattened palm of his hand.

“Better?” Daryl quipped, grinning.

The second you nodded your head, you heard the sound of the crop clatter to the floor behind you. Daryl swiftly took your ass in both hands and started kneading the skin. Really digging his fingers into the flesh and sending shockwaves trembling all through your body.

“Rick’s the only reason yer here, y’know,” Daryl said behind you. You yelped when he smacked your ass again, and you curled your toes into the linoleum below.

The man rubbed the spot as soon as he’d struck it, palming your skin like it was the softest, smoothest thing he’d ever felt.

“Thinks you’d be an asset.” Another slap on your rear.

“I told him he don’t know wha’ the fuck he’s talkin’ ‘bout. Said you were ‘bout as useful as a one-legged man in an ass-kickin’ contest.”

You fought back a chuckle. That was pretty good.

And when he spanked your ass another time, the sting didn’t hurt as much. You propped your chin on the surface beneath you, pursed your lips, and actually suppressed the threat of a moan.

“I said ya were a liability,” Daryl continued, “Didn’t know no fuckin’ manners neither.”

At that, you were tempted to speak, almost wanting to defend yourself against his baseless accusations. But Daryl stopped that from happening, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and arched your back up to meet his face, half-standing.

“I think ya need me ta teach ya some manners, how ‘bout tha’?” he growled in your ear.

If the warmth pooling between your legs couldn’t answer for you, you decided words would have to do. You nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”

Daryl threw you back onto the counter and gave your ass another brutal smack.

“‘Uh-huh’ don’t sound too polite to me, sugar,” he said sharply, cruelly. He didn’t soothe your backside with the pulse of his fingers and stood back from you instead.

“Yes...y-yes sir,” you stammered out, legs trembling underneath you.

Your feet were slightly raised, all but standing on tip-toes to keep your body propped up against the counter, and you were suddenly aware that your cunt was plainly exposed. The open gusset in your lacy attire seemed to have spread even further, swelling with the size of your now-engorged folds and probably displaying yourself to Daryl in all the worst ways.

The man groaned behind you.

You sensed some fabric shuffle, the clink of a belt come undone, and finally a tongue—pressed flat against you and licking a stripe up your oozing heat.

You shuddered forward on the tabletop and let out a lewd-sounding squeal. Your eyes widened at the sight ahead of you as you swore you could’ve seen a walker turn their rotted head in your direction outside. Daryl clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Now tha’s— what we’re not gonna do,” he whispered through gritted teeth, “We’re not gonna make one fuckin’ sound so the geeks out there can stay right where they are. Ya hear me?”

Daryl’s hand moved to your throat and pinched it in a vicious grip when you didn’t answer him.

“Ya hear me?”

You managed one strangled ‘Yes sir’ and left your lips parted as Daryl placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on them. He stepped back again.

You heard some other quiet stirrings behind you as Daryl fiddled with something above your back. Frankly, you were already too lust-struck and cum-hungry to care, breathing out in soft, gentle puffs of air as you tried to rein in your reeling mind. You watched the walkers for a minute, tried to ground yourself in the unsavory reality all around you—the precarious position you were currently standing in, as one stray stumble of one of those undead shitheads might veritably mean the end of you and Daryl’s lives as you knew it—and you sighed. Scanned your eyes across the sea of wretched, fleshy heads and wanted to hurl.

At present, Daryl stroked your lower back with the tips of his fingers.

“Y’know, it’s been real tough ta find anything useful here,” he mused aloud, running his touch over your skin and sending a flurry of goosebumps in its path, “Ain’t nothin’ worth keepin’ here, really—‘cept maybe some dirty magazines.”

You internally rolled your eyes. Good for you, Daryl.

Then he lifted his hand and dragged it down a little further, causing you to clench your legs and snag your bottom lip between your teeth.

“But I got curious, see…” Daryl’s forefinger followed the contour of your ass and slid down between your cheeks, traveling lazily ‘til he reached your aching core. He sank that same finger deep between your folds and circled around in your heat, eliciting a strained whimper above as he gathered your juices.

“Daryl—” you whined.

“Don’t interrupt,” Daryl growled, slapping your pussy.

You winced and let out the smallest of moans. Daryl smirked.

“I found some stuff,” he resumed, “Might actually make this little trip worthwhile.”

You panted in your current position, hardly hearing a word he said.

When he lifted something else to your heat, you did quickly sense that his wasn’t any part of his hand, or even his cock. You squirmed in place but didn’t speak.

“Found batteries,” Daryl declared, as though it were the grandest discovery he’d ever made.

“Ya know what batteries are good for, darlin’?” You could almost hear the grin in his voice.

Before you could answer, you felt a fierce pulse at your center. A tremor, a throb, an artificial oscillation.

A vibration.

You moaned.

Daryl twirled the tip of a pink vibrator against your clit and pressed.

So overcome with that raw, potent jolt, you couldn’t help it when you cried, “Fuck, Daryl!”

Daryl didn’t cover your mouth, but he did withdraw the device from your slit for a moment, just to whisper in your ear to shut. the fuck. up. The two of you ogled the swarm of walkers once more and stood in muted suspense. Waiting for one to turn toward the glass.

Not a single set of eyes drifted in your direction.

Bent over you with a buzzing vibrator at your core, Daryl couldn’t deny the rush was...addictive. He pushed the thing a little deeper and smiled when you stifled a moan.

“Ya might’ve been right comin’ all the way out here after all,” Daryl teased, “This shit’s way more fun than suckin’ gas, don’t ya think?”

You buried your face in the glass and wanted to scream when Daryl’s fingers started sliding in and out of your hole.

You were being so good, not making a sound, eyes all but welled up with tears at the pleasure that was coursing through your body. Daryl rubbed your back with his other hand and seemed to be treating you a little gentler now.

“Aw, tha’s my girl,” he said, words ripe with condescension. He traced his palm up the length of your spine and kept fingering you quietly. You barely even noticed that the vibrator was designed to hook inside you, still punishing your clit as it quivered away at the sensitive spot within your walls.

“Who woulda thought all it would take ta shake that disobedience away was a couple’a fingers in yer cunt and a stupid little toy.”

You were far too close to your release to give a shit about his patronizing speech; you bucked your hips against his hand, his front, and gritted your teeth as a tender bubble of pleasure grew deep within your belly. Then, to your surprise, you felt Daryl clasp your fingers while they were still knotted with rope behind you and squeezed them.

“Tha’s a good girl. Cum all over me, make tha’ pussy feel nice f’me, c’mon.”

You followed his command in short order and released all over his hand, humping his fingers and humming through a muffled shriek as you came.

Daryl beamed with pride and hardly had it in him to look away, notwithstanding the growing throng of walkers close ahead of you. He uncurled his fingers, slid them out, and took a nice, long taste of his hand while he watched you writhe underneath him.

“Take it out!” you hissed, thrashing against the vibrator still buzzing within you, “Take it out, take it out, take it out!”

In truth, you’d never felt so fucking good in your life. You surprised yourself when you stood there another couple seconds and came again, clenching repeatedly over the tiny pink toy and groaning into the condensation-dampened glass.

“FUCK!” you screamed, this time with no hint of restraint.

Daryl’s eyes bulged out of his head, and he yanked the thing out of you. Gaze darting to the window in a petrified look.

One walker paused in place and craned its neck with the slowest of motions. It stared blankly at the window before it but didn’t move. Daryl saw its mouth open and close, wheezing something violent, and stared another few seconds before shuffling back to its previous path. Daryl closed his eyes.

“What did I say about—” he started to whisper down to you, but you cut him short,

“We need a safe word or something, Daryl. This is too fuckin’ risky.”

You were right about that. Daryl straightened up and tucked the vibrator in his pocket, before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yeah? How ‘bout ‘Walker Bait’?” he muttered, rubbing his face.

Then he was fumbling with the rope around your wrists and loosening it up. His heart was still thudding in his chest, scared half to death with the narrow miss you’d just had, though he didn’t want you to see it. He turned around as soon as you’d gotten free.

“Fine by me,” you grumbled back.

You watched Daryl disappear down a random aisle and felt obliged to cross your arms over your chest, pivoting back to the walkers with a wary gaze.

And, just when you started to wander back into the recesses of your mind, watching the swarm grow thicker and thicker and starting to doubt you’d ever escape this nightmare, you felt Daryl’s hands on you again. Squeezing your hips and turning you to face him.

“Jump,” he ordered.

You did as he said and locked your legs around his waist, welcomed by the familiar feeling of the counter behind you as Daryl pressed your bodies into it. He half-braced you against it, half-held you in his arms as he fingered something small and delicate beneath you.

Your smile widened at the sight of a condom wrapper being torn in two, and grew even bigger when you caught a glimpse of the rubber itself.

It was bright blue and littered with ridges. You laughed.

“The hell is that, Dixon?” you asked, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle your amusement.

Daryl gingerly dragged the cobalt-colored condom over his length and made a face.

“Ain’t a single damn rubber here for normal people,” he grunted, “This one’s fuckin’ blueberry flavored.”

At the last, neither of you could contain your laughter as you both stared down at the bizarre blue condom stretching over Daryl’s cock. You scooted forward just a little.

“Never a dull moment with you, is there, Dar?” you said as you pushed his chest lightly. Telling him to step back so you could hop down and sink to the floor in front of him.

Daryl sucked in a breath as you took his shaft in your hands. He slapped a hand on the countertop and squeezed when your tongue darted past your lips.

Surely he couldn’t get a fruit-flavored condom and not expect you to give it a taste.

With the base of his cock between your fingers, you licked a long, wide line up his dick and moaned.

“Doesn’t taste much like blueberries,” you hummed, feigning disappointment as you gazed up at Daryl. He gripped the counter even harder and gritted his teeth to suppress a groan.

Regardless of the unsavory artificial flavor, you took the head of his cock between your lips and sucked. Bobbed your head up and down over his length as though trying to get a real mouthful of those so-called berry juices. You found yourself sorely dissatisfied with the taste but more than compensated for this loss in the form of Daryl’s throaty moans above you. It seemed he was letting loose on the restraints to keep quiet and finally gripping your hair, rutting into your mouth.

“Ah, honey, tha’s’it. Tha’s a good little slut,” he panted as he pushed you further down on his cock.

You tried not to gag when he grazed the back of your throat but couldn’t control the reflex. Daryl groaned even louder above you.

In a second, you were plucked off his bright blue boner and taken back into his arms, then shoved on the surface behind you.

“I ain’ fuckin’ waitin’ no more. Ya done achin’ for daddy’s cock?”

You nodded that you were. You readily accepted Daryl’s lips on your own and his tongue pushed deep in your mouth as he showered you with a string of sloppy kisses. Shifted you in his arms almost viciously, frantically, before bringing you down on his cock.

The second you were fully impaled on him, the two of you groaned. You bucked your hips and he rutted his, bouncing you up and down again and again with no time at all to adjust to his size.

All that could be heard in the deserted store was the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, punctuated every now and then with strangled moans and stifled whimpers. You steadied your hands on either one of his shoulders and stared, deeply, in Daryl’s half-hooded eyes. He panted out a breathy sigh as you clenched around him.

“Tha’s right, girl, fuckin’ take it. Take this fuckin’ cock like it’s yours,” he growled.

“It is mine, Daryl,” you bit back, grinding even harder, “Tell me it’s mine.”

Daryl’s jaw seemed to slacken just a bit, evidently aroused by the sound of you talking so dirty to him. In a blink, he was digging his nails in your sides and saying,

“It’s yours, baby. All fuckin’ yours.”

If someone had told you at the start of the day that this was how your dreaded supply run with Daryl would go, you wouldn’t have believed them. As your once-despised partner drilled you even deeper and caught your lips in a frenzied kiss, you still almost couldn’t comprehend it now. You bounced, and you writhed, and you rolled your desperate hips against him, but how in the fuck did this happen?

The moment Daryl dropped his thumb to your clit, you decided you didn’t care.

Your walls hugged him even tighter as he drew loose circles all over your swollen nub, and your head fell back. Daryl held you even tighter.

“Gonna cum again f’me? Gonna cum all over this cock?” he goaded you as your heels dug deep in his lower back.

All you could do was nod again—bring your lazy, fucked-out gaze back to Daryl and murmur in what hardly felt like words to you at all:

“Y-yes, daddy, yes.”

Daryl smiled at the sound of that word on your lips and thrusted his hips even harder, fucking you fast to build the friction on your sensitive, trembling walls.

That, paired with the flick of his thumb on your clit and the narrowing eyes holding you tight to his gaze—wordlessly coaxing you to cum for him now, make daddy proud—sent your senses spiraling into ecstasy. You released all over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and gripped him harder than you ever had before.

Before another scream could escape your lips, Daryl yanked you closer for a kiss and attempted to swallow every sound as his own orgasm surged inside him. You felt the man move both hands to your sides, seize them, and all but crush the bones beneath his fingers as he fucked you hard against the counter. He shot his load in the condom and groaned against your mouth.

Two former enemies, fucked out like a couple of crazed fools, stayed glued in place and blinked back at one other like you hardly understood what had just happened. Grinning nonetheless.

As Daryl leaned in for one last kiss, the pair of you froze—something rapped against the window.

The two of you turned and almost swore you could’ve felt your stomachs fall to the floor.

The herd of walkers outside, seemingly doubled in size, now stood at full attention at the storefront. Every undead, rotted head turned straight to face you.

They looked real fucking hungry.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #smut #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon one shot #twd imagine

1K notes · View notes

luvrxbunny · 6 months

Text

mural

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Marking

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some grinding, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: possibly all over the place and the last one! *relieved(?) sobbing* (not proofread)

It’s the first time in a very long time that Miguel is looking in the mirror and doesn’t like what he sees. It’s not about his body really, more about what you left on him… what’s now fading.

You mark him up to your heart's content every time you’re together since he’s never in anything but his suit, all his parts are covered, including your favorite spot; his neck. He tells you they’re a bit of a nuisance. Sure, he never takes off his suit but now he has to worry about it. He’s said this to you more times than he can count but you never listen, and thank god you don’t because he secretly loves them.

Yet for some reason, you seem to have listened to him the last time he told you. You haven’t marked him up in weeks. All his love bites are now fading and he never realized how empty his skin is. He’s in the bathroom and you’re sitting on the bed, he closed the door to inspect his body, secretly admiring the art you leave on his skin but a frown rose to his face, and has stayed there since he realized that almost all of them were gone. His fingertips run over the faint red splotch on his neck and a shiver runs through him.

He needs more. He needs you to mark him up again. He walks out of the bathroom and just watches you on your phone. You don’t look up at him, “You took a while in there! Is it safe for me to go in?” You laugh at your own joke and finally look up when he doesn’t laugh with you. “Are you okay?” You put your phone down and sit up, giving him your full attention and his heart warms at the action.

He weighs his options for a bit. He could come right out and admit that he was lying all those times he told you not to mark him up, that he doesn’t like it… or he could seduce you into giving him more… He chooses the ladder. He takes a deep breath, letting his chest expand and rolling his shoulders back, something that always gets your heart racing. He cracks his neck and lets his eyes roll back with the action before looking back at you with a smile. “I want you, sweetheart.”

He’s laying it on thick, giving you the best ‘fuck me’ eyes he has, and using one of your favorite nicknames. It’s working. He watches your thighs press together for a moment as a wide smile splits your face. “Yeah?” You ask, already crawling to the edge of the bed, where he stands. You let your legs hang over the edge, beside his as you rest your hands on the band of his sweatpants, still smiling up at him. Just the look in your eyes has him hardening in his sweats. Your eyelids flutter once his bulge starts to push the fabric outward, almost touching your face as it grows.

He’s still just watching you, your eyes are on his, giving him an evil look of promise, that you’re going to completely ruin him. Once he’s fully hard his clothed dick is pressing into your cheek and you have to actively avoid rubbing your face into it. You’re not crazy it’s just- you love it so much. Your head tilts into his crotch subconsciously and he takes a sharp breath, it trembles as he exhales. Your eyes are still on his, growing increasingly hazy and your legs start trying to press into each other. He makes a move.

His hands press onto your shoulders, pushing you onto your back, lying in the middle of the mattress. His hands then cup the back of your thighs, lift your spread legs onto the bed, and push you up to the backboard. You’re clawing at him frantically, panting and trying to pull him up so you can connect your lips with his. You’re whining into his mouth in a way that’d have him thinking you’ve been needing him silently for hours. His hands rest beside your head, cradling it as he shoves his lips against yours, a deep groan building in his chest at how soft your life feels against him. His hips drop to yours, earning a soft moan from both of you when his dick presses into your pussy.

One hand leaves your head to hold your hips in place as he grinds against you, angling his bulge so it’s bumping your clit with every thrust. You have to detach from his lips to let out a gut-wrenching moan that he responds to with a low, breathy whine. “Fuck.” He grits out through his teeth, he needed you more than he realized. His hand comes to your underwear, pulling them down with one hand as you wiggle your hips and pull his sweatpants down, over his ass and he takes them the rest of the way with his hand as you wiggle your panties off your legs.

He’s about to climb back up your body but instead sits back on his legs and yanks his shirt over his head. You’re about to do the same but instead, he just grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, instantly letting go once his lips are on yours again. He pulls away for a moment to breathe and mutters “No time. Need you.” against your lips before diving in again. His need for you has only doubled every minute he’s with you, overtaking all his thoughts aside from getting his dick inside your addictive pussy.

His hand is lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in without a second thought. You gasp painfully at the stretch and your hands dig into his biceps. “Miguel—!” Your words cut off with a shaky moan, half in pleasure and half in pain. He whines and ducks into your neck, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, amor. I- wasn’t thinking. I’m-” He’s panting shakily into your neck and his muscles are tense, almost shaking in your hands. You’re able to peek at where his face is resting at the base of your neck and you can see his brows pulled as tight as his shut eyes.

You fight the smile that spreads over your face but it breaks through and he can somehow feel it. “Stop laughing at me.” He grunts into your neck and you giggle, hurting the both of you as your pussy squeezes on his cock. It doesn’t burn as much, growing wetter with how Miguel’s trying to hold back his whimpers against your neck. Your hips tilt up to him, sucking in the last bit of his cock and getting a tortured moan from Miguel. “Please don't.” His words are shaky as they fall from his lips.

You smile and a hand comes to the back of his head, he leans into it like a cat. “I’m ready, baby.” You use the most alluring voice you can muster and feel his body twitch over yours before he starts thrusting into you slowly. It’s incredible, his dick stretching you so wide your entire pussy is a livewire, no matter where he’s touching you it sends a shock through your entire body. You feel like you can feel the veins of his cock sliding against your walls as he thrusts into you at a shockingly slow pace. He’s holding back for you, a bit traumatized by hurting you while lost in his desperation.

You’re soaking him, coating him in your slick, and creating a lewd sound when his cock sinks into you. “M-miguel.” Your whine pulls his head out of your neck and his eyes are frantically searching your face, worried that he hurt you again. You give him a soft knowing look before biting your lip shyly. “You can go f-faster.” You pulse around him uncontrollably as you speak, your entire body desperate for him. His hips stutter against you, like his body is jumping at the opportunity but his mind is still unsure. You can see it in his eyes, he gives you a gentle, ‘Are you sure’ kind of questioning look. You kiss his lips so softly he’s not sure if he imagined your lips touching his or not, before nodding at him as you pull away.

He breathes out something like a sigh of relief before plunging into you, thrusting so hard and deep that his hips create a slapping sound against yours and you can feel his cock bump into your cervix. Your legs raise to his hips, wrapping around him to hold him deep in place. You’re letting shocked moans spill from your lips as he begins to fuck into you, short, strong thrusts that force painful whimpers out of your chest.

Your eyes are shut tight, trying to handle the arousal of his pace before exposing yourself to the arousal of seeing the look on his face. You take the best deep breaths you can in your condition and open your eyes only to be met with his adam’s apple. His head is directly above yours but instead of looking at you, he seems to be focused on the bedframe. You assume it’s a stalling or distraction tactic and say nothing. You’re pretty content with the sight; his neck flexing and adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to hold his moans in.

You’re tempted to suck pretty marks into his skin, leaving him red, purple, and sore. You want to see him pull at his collar the next morning because his neck is too sensitive for the fabric rubbing against his skin. You want to make him so sensitive that you can just run your fingers over his neck and he’s fattening inside his pants. You want it so bad… but he doesn’t so you calm yourself. You whimper as you lean up into his neck. He gasps, shocked when your lips press into the hot skin of his neck, and lets out a broken whimper when all you do is press a slow kiss to it. “Can you— please.” You assume he was going to tell you to stop because he thought you were going to suck. So you keep going.

His whimpers grow more frequent and frustrated the longer you press kisses onto his neck until he finally pulls back. He cups your jaw with one hand, pulls you away from his neck, and looks down at you. “Why aren’t you-” His hips grind into you slower than before, relishing the way he feels when he’s deep inside you before pulling back out. “You’re not—?” He breathes out a shaky and frustrated sigh. “You don’t want to?” He sounds pained, and offended now. Your hips stop flexing into his although his hips keep grinding into yours. His eyes are penetrating deep into yours like he’s searching for an answer but you don't even know the question. You rest a hand on his hips, attempting to slow them but he lets out a soft noise of protest instead.

“What is it, Miggy?” His thrusts stutter and he almost collapses on you. “I like it.” His eyes close and his hips slow further, and this slower pace is somehow worse. He’s dragging against your walls, teasing every nerve he touches. “I like this too, baby? Are you okay?” He groans and blankets you in his weight, dropping his body to yours. You can feel his heart racing in his chest, beating hard into his ribcage and his head is buried in your neck, shaking from side to side. “No.” You don’t like his vagueness, it’s worrying. You push at his shoulder gently. “Flip us over, Miguel.”

He does so without question but regrets it once you pull off his cock. He’s gasping and reaching for you the moment he feels the cold air on his dick but you’re already out of reach. “I’m gonna get back on, don’t worry. I want you to sit up for me, sweetheart.” His heart skips a beat from having your favorite nickname directed to him and complies. He sits up, his cock glistening and bobbing between his legs, red, and painfully hard for you.

You climb into his lap and love the way his entire body leans into you for a kiss as you sink onto him. You comb your fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him as you kiss him slowly. Your current theory is that he’s a bit too worked up, too desperate to voice what he wants properly so you’re trying to fix it. You pull back and smile at his hooded eyes. “Can you talk to me, handsome?” His hips twitch up into you with a gasp at the petname before a low whine of frustration.

It’s his ego that’s getting in the way, that and a bit of embarrassment. He doesn’t want to outright admit that he’s been bluffing about the kisses, that he actually craves them day in and day out. He wants you to catch on but you’re just not. “I want more.” Upon meeting your blank stare Miguel hesitantly tilts his head to the ceiling, baring his neck for you, showing what he wants. “I want you to- They’ve all faded.” His voice breaks down to a whine, cracking on the last word and it’d break your heart if what he’s saying wasn't so erotic.

He knows you finally understand because you gush and twitch around him. He grunts at the added slick and grips your hips again while he grinds up into you. You watch his adam’s apple drop in a sigh of relief as he slides into the depths of you. Your mouth is on him before you can process how badly you want to bite into his skin. He moans and his hand is behind your head in an instant, holding you in place and gripping into your hair. His fingers tighten their hold once your tongue peaks out from your lips and licks over his skin so gently it almost tickles, then you suck, harshly and as hard as you can.

His eyes roll back and pleasure explodes in his stomach, stemming from your lips throughout his entire body. His hand on your hip tightens with the one in your air as he shakily thrusts upward, trying to fuck you while you mark him up, but you pull away. Your eyes are hazy and fixed on his next with shuddering breaths falling from your lips. “Is that okay? Don't- Don’t wanna cover you.” He can tell that's a lie by the way your eyelids and pussy flutter at the thought. He stays silent, waiting for you to look at him, to see how badly he wants this.

Your eyes meet his and you squeeze on his involuntarily, you’ve seen this look once before, in your own eyes when Miguel fucked you in front of a mirror. “You want more?” You ask, low and timid in case you’re misreading his desperation. Your worries are assuaged by the insistent, and guttural moan he lets out while nodding frantically at you. You don’t question him further, you just dive in.

You grip the back of his neck and pull him to you, latching your lips to his pulse point instantly. You let your soft lips part over his skin and suck. You can feel the vibrations under your lips as he moans out praises to you, his hips grinding into you languidly. His dick is currently an afterthought to the way your lips feel on his neck. You release him with a soft pop and kiss over the area a few times before moving to your next target. You’re hitting all his most sensitive spots, you have them memorized, stored in the back of your head for moments like this.

His mouth is open in a perpetual moan, going silent when you suck especially hard on a certain spot. You’re destroying him. He hasn’t realized how sensitive he’d gotten in all your neglect but every kiss feels like a lightning bolt through his soul. You’re affecting him in a way he never knew was possible. You’re like a madwoman on him, moaning and groaning into each lovebite, kissing over some while licking over others. He can feel that distinct pit of pleasure growing in his stomach but he ignores it, anything to keep you on him, kissing and biting him like this.

He thinks he’ll be able to hold on, to keep his orgasm at bay with the stimulation you’re giving him but you can already feel his muscles pulling in, tensing, and jumping as he tries to avoid the action. You lick a stripe up his marked-up neck before pulling away to bounce on him, giving his cock some stimulation for when he cums but he stops you. “You’re- Is that—?” His eyes are hazy and begging. “Can I have more?” You kiss him a bit roughly, biting and licking at his lips like you’re still giving hickeys. It’s making his head spin, he doesn’t know when the dynamic switched like this. Now he’s the one begging you, pleading with you to touch him in the way he likes. You’ve got him under your thumb, you control him and you never even asked for it. He just gave himself to you.

He’s right on the edge now. You’re bouncing in his lap gently, probably subconsciously, chasing your own pleasure with his body. You collapse onto his chest, your face on his collarbones and you bite. Not a hickey or a lovebite. You just straight up bite into him. And it has him cumming in seconds.

His shut tight, his lids pressed painfully shut as his hands press your body into his as best he can. He plants his feet into the mattress and fucks into you at a brutal pace. It’s out of order and shak, his hips stuttering with his orgasms and his entire body folding in with his heavy, impassioned moans. It’s enough to push you over.

You moan raggedly into his chest, hugging your arms around his neck as you whine against his skin. Your hips grind into him on their own accord, only adding more layers to the pleasure that’s surrounding your body. Miguel moans your name at the way you’re choking his cock and enticing his load to drown your pussy. He’s covering your insides with his seed as you lick over his bite, it’s half an apology but more because you know how it’ll affect him. His thighs tense and begin to shake before his legs give out, collapsing back to the bed and forcing him to succumb to your pace, a slow grind as you come down from your high.

He’s panting beneath and with you, trying to catch his breath from the assault of pleasure you just bombed him with. You’re feeling the same way, a bit bad for how his neck looks and you run a fingertip over a trail you left from the base of his throat to his adams apple. He shivers against you and kisses the top of your head before lifting your hips and letting his cock and cum slide out. He watches you drip into the bedsheets, and how you shiver with goosebumps as you leak.

He kisses you again, on the lips, and softly this time before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

He had planned to get a towel for you, to clean you up all nice a sensually but he catches his reflection in the mirror. You’ve wreaked havoc on his neck, he’s covered in so many bruises he almost looks like he’s got a blackout tattoo. It looks like you’ve painted a mural on his neck, just for him. His heart warms further at your bite mark. His favorite thing about it isn’t that it’ll last longer than the lovebites, no. He loves that he can tell it’s your teeth that we’re stuck into him. He loves that he’s been marked by you.

thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

1K notes · View notes

coryosbaby · 1 year

Text

Ultraviolence- E.L & C.M

(Pt. 3)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader, Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin

Warning: stepcest (stepsister x stepbrother), dark! Ethan landry, face sitting, intoxication/sex while intoxicated, threesome (Chad x Ethan x reader), anal, p n v, creampie, sucking two dicks at the same time? LMAOO, throatfucking, reader is of age, sir kink, choking, spanking, rough sex, cum eating, hard dom! Ethan, soft dom! Chad, sub!reader

A/n: this is def getting out late but here is Pt. 3!! Chad is included in this one btw 💋 this literally took 3 days but sucks major ass, so I apologize

Your mom is walking down the aisle.

You really can’t believe it’s happening. She looks great, in her white wedding dress, but your thoughts are really on other things.

Honestly, you’re too far gone with Ethan to even go back to the way things were a few weeks ago. You two were now closer, impeccably so, and it’s definitely noticed by the both of your parents. Your mom is very glad that you and your big brother are finally warming up to each other. Getting along so much, even, that you spend almost every day together, swimming in the pool, going to the movies, spending the night in each other’s rooms.

If only she knew just how close you both were.

You watch as Wayne and your mom officially are announced husband and wife, watch how happy they both look.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you feel Ethan’s eyes on you.

You smile.

“No parties while we’re gone!! Oh, and don’t forget to water my plants, honey-”

“I know, mom, I know.” You laugh as you watch her struggle to load her last piece of luggage into the car. She finally gets it in, and shuts the trunk. Ethan stands next to his dad, who is also conversating about the rules to him. You smile softly when you see the boy laugh.

And when they finally leave in the car for their honeymoon, Ethan just can’t keep his hands to himself.

The moment you’re both in the house, his hands wrap around your throat and he shoves you against the wall. He presses a hot heavy kiss to your lips and you whine.

“Been waiting for this for so long, baby.”he groans, and begins to thrust his cock against your clothed pussy. “Get to have this precious little cunt for a fuckin’ week.”

He lifts up your skirt and rubs your clit through your panties. He grins when he sees his name written in your sloppy handwriting on the waistband. What if your parents see when you need to do laundry? You’re so dumb sometimes, but Ethan finds it endearing.

“E… my bed- please..” you murmur, soft lips against his cheek. He laughs against your mouth, and gives you space to begin moving up the stairs. You grab his hand and his eyes follow your beautiful form as you walk up to your room.

He takes his shirt off as he walks down the hall, and you turn around to look at him walking towards you. You bite your lip at his fit chest, and the big arms you love oh so much. You stumble against the wall beside your door and he’s kissing you again, trailing his sharp teeth down to your collarbones. You fumble for the doorknob, and when you get it open Ethan yanks you buy your hair and throws you onto the bed. He crawls on top of you, hands going down to unzip your skirt and throw it to the ground. He yanks down your panties with ease, and instantly starts to eat you out. You moan when his tongue enters your warm, wet hole, and your hands grasp onto his brown curls. Without realizing, your thighs wrap around Ethan’s head tightly. He laughs into your pussy, and then shoves a finger inside you. All you can do is let out loud, pretty sounds. Ethan pulls away then, and you whine in protest. He looks up at you, wiping his swollen mouth.

“I want you to sit on my face, baby.”

He lays down, hands beckoning you closer.

“C’mere.”

You comply immediately, bringing your thighs over to straddle him. He grabs you and places you over his mouth, bringing you down on him. You gasp, hands going down grasp his hair, as you begin to ride him.

It’s two days later, and you’re reading a book when Ethan walks in with a guy you’ve never seen before. He introduces himself as Chad, some guy that Ethan is friends with. He’s cute, with pretty eyes and a muscular figure. You notice the way his eyes avert down to your chest when you shake his hand, notice how his grip stays just a little bit longer than normal. Ethan narrows his eyes at the scene, careful not to say something that could get the both of you in trouble.

The two boys sit at the bar in the kitchen, and conversate. You sit back down on the couch and start to continue your book. However, your attention dilutes from the inked pages when Chad’s voice cuts through.

“Yeah, man. It’s totally crazy. Andrew’s parties are the best. You should pull up tonight.”

Ethan looks like he contemplates it, and then nods.

“Yeah. Sure, man.”

“Hey, your sister can come, too.”

“I told you, dude. She’s not my sister. Stop saying that.”

Your attention peaks even more at the mention of you. Although you aren’t that much of a party type, it seems fun to go out of the house for a little while. You also have a pink dress you’ve been dying to wear

“Yeah,” you chime in. “Maybe I’ll-“

“No. You aren’t going.”

You furrow your eyebrows at Ethan’s demanding tone, and turn around to glare at him.

“And why not, asshole?”

“Because I said so. You’re too young for that shit.”

“You’re like, two years older than me Ethan. And I can do what I want.”

“C’mon man, just let her go.” Chad chimes in. You smile at his defense towards you. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.” Ethan scoffs, and gets up to grab a cherry coke from the fridge.

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to take care of your ass the whole night.”

You frown. He’s being so mean, and you don’t like it. But alas, you look at Chad.

“What time?”

The dress you’re wearing clings tightly to your body as you walk into the party in a random person’s house. You had invited your friend, and she had gotten there about twenty minutes before now. She was probably off getting guy’s numbers and making out with random girls. Not that you could judge. And even though she’s been your best friend since elementary school, even she doesn’t know about you and Ethan.

He’s beside you, and he isn’t looking you in the eye. You don’t know why, but you intend to ask him later. Chad begins to strike up a conversation to you about the book you’re reading (he’s never read it before, but he acts like he has), and his hand bumps against yours a few times as he walks up to get a drink. You move beside him and down a shot. Ethan’s hands brush against your hip as he grabs one of the small glasses next to yours.

“Open your mouth.” He demands. You furrow your eyebrows, but comply, and his hands hold your jaw as he pours the warm liquid down your throat.

“Good girl.” He watches as you swallow and he lightly slaps your cheek. You feel your panties get wet at the light sting it leaves, at the blatant humiliation.

Chad looks between the two of you in confusion. A weird moment between supposed stepsiblings, but he isn’t going to push it.

Until your friend calls you over from across the room, and Ethan’s hand runs along your side and down to your ass as you walk away. And then his eyes follow your form, follow your soft curves and pretty back. He looks so full of compassion.

Chad knows that type of touch. He knows that it’s not an accident, because he’s done it to plenty of girls that he’s liked before. And he definitely knows that look. The look of being in love.

He hesitates to speak up, before he clears his throat.

“Yo, man,” he leans in closer to him, in secrecy. “Are you and her…” he gestures between Ethan you, who’s dancing next to some random frat boy. Ethan grits his teeth at the sight, and the hand on his glass of liquor tightens. At Chad’s question, his eyebrows raise in surprise, but he puts on an amused smirk.

“What kind of freak do you take me for, Martin?” He chuckles. “You think I’m banging my little sister?”

Chad stares at him for a moment, watching the glint of his shiny white teeth as he grins. Usually someone would get a little bit more offended by that question. But once again, he’s not going to push it. He awkwardly laughs, and begins shaking his head.

“Nah, man. I was just joking.” He takes another sip of his drink. “Meant nothin’.”

Your head is spinning as you take a small hit of the joint that your friend passes to you. You feel amazing, as if you can jump off of a cliff and feel no pain. You’d had a few drinks, so you’re a little tipsy, and maybe a tad bit high. But you’re stable enough to walk on your feet and not stumble. You watch as your friend gets whisked away by some guy she had been talking to the whole night, to the outside of the house. You see Ethan talking to some random guy from his econ class and scream his name from across the room. He walks over to you, annoyed.

“What do you want? I’m busy.”

You pout, and wrap your arms around him to pull him into a tight hug. Neither of you should be this affectionate in public, but you’re both too intoxicated to really care. He smells amazing, like aftershave and cologne.

“Wanna fuck you, E.” You whisper into his ear, and he smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Wanna fuck you on the couch, like we did when mom and dad were home. Please?”

He chuckles into your neck, his arms wrapped around you.

“Not here, sweet thing. We need to find a room.”

You whine and his grip tightens.

“Don’t be a bad girl.”

“But.. you’ve been-“ you frown, and his hand goes down to grip your waist and turn you towards the stairs of the house. “Been ignoring me the whole night. And you’ve been s’mean to me.”

He sighs, as you both begin to go up the stairs.

“I know, angel. I’m sorry. But Chad has been getting on my nerves. I know he wants you. And we can’t have that, can we?”

“Maybe we can…” you murmur. You reach the top of the stairs and Ethan pulls you close to him in a harsh grip.

“What was that?”

“Maybe..” you hesitate, cheeks blazing. “Maybe I want you and Chad to fuck me.”

“That so?” His eyes practically turn to slits, and he grips your arm harshly and yanks you into an empty room. Hands fumbling with his belt, he talks to you through gritted teeth.

“bet you’d like to be torn open by two cocks, wouldn’t you baby? Don’t worry, you’re gonna get it.” He pushes you onto the bed, and you sit up on the edge with slight fear in your eyes. Of course you want this, its just a matter of how angry Ethan looks. “Since you won’t shut the fuck up, I’m gonna fuck this throat nice and hard. And then, maybe I’ll get Chad to come up here and fuck it, too. How’s that sound? Huh, slut?”

You nod eagerly, and he pulls out his thick length to slap the side of your cheek. Precum smears on your skin, and your tongue lolls out to get a taste.

“Jesus, I’ve really corrupted you, haven’t I?” He laughs, putting a harsh grip on your hair and pulling your head back as he thrusts the tip of his cock shallowly in between your lips. “Desperate little cockslut. Fuck, just wait until Chad sees you.”

You tongue his slit, and then go down to bring his balls into your mouth. He curses, beginning to hump himself against your face.

“Or… shit- maybe he won’t even want you. I mean, you’re fucking your brother, sweetness. You’re filthy. So fuckin’ filthy. And most boys don’t like filthy girls. Except for me, though. Because you belong to me.”

You mewl, hands coming down to touch your own clit, but Ethan slaps your hand away.

“No touching tonight. Not at all. You get to fuck Chad, but you don’t get to cum.”

You nod obediently, and begin to deepthroat his thick cock. You gag around him, moaning at his taste, feeling his juices leak down the back of your throat. He’s throbbing, breathing heavy. You don’t even notice as he whips out his phone and snaps a picture of you: eyes hooded and dark, chin covered in spit, as his cock is shoved down your pretty, bulging throat. He looks up Chad’s contact, and presses send. Along with a written message:

‘I lied. I’m fucking this bitch’s throat right now. She wants you to fuck her, too. Come upstairs to the first room on the right side of the hallway.’

Chad knows he should not be leaving his conversation with one of his friends to go see you and Ethan right now.

Yeah, his best friend is fucking his literal stepsister, and it’s fucking disgusting. But he can’t deny the thought of you touching his cock, tasting it. You’re just so beautiful.

And if he has to share you with your big brother, then so be it.

He finds the correct room (or at least, the one that he hopes is correct), and knocks. He hears a small chuckle and hushed whispers, and then he hears Ethan yell, “come in!”

He quickly shoves himself inside the room, sure to lock the door.

The first thing he notices is that your pretty pink heels are strewn on the floor. The next thing he notices, is that your bra is hanging off the side of the chair in the corner of the room.

And lastly, he notices the one thing that sets the boy’s face on fire: the sight of you sucking Ethan’s dick. Your tits are out, now. Your dress unzipped, exposing the many old and new fresh marks on your back from where Ethan had put his mouth on you. Ethan holds your hair as you pop off of his cock and look at Chad with lust filled eyes.

“Chad…” your voice is raw, the throatfucking making it sore and achy. “C’mere.”

He looks to Ethan, as if asking for permission. He nods, looking down at her as he speaks.

“You can have her mouth and her ass. But I get to fuck her pussy.” He uses his other hand to lightly stroke your hair, and you lean into his affectionate touch. “The only reason I’m doing this is because she wants to. Understood? This is a one time thing.”

Chad nods his head in understanding, slowly walking towards your half naked body as he peels off his varsity jacket. You completely entrance him. Just as you do Ethan, and just as you always have and will always do to many men.

Chad gets down on his knees beside Ethan, and Ethan lets go of your hair so you can lean down and kiss Chad on the lips. It’s a soft kiss, at first. But then it comes back more harsh, his tongue slipping into your mouth, stroking the muscle with gentle ease. You moan, as his hand attempts to go down to your neglected clit and rub it. Ethan grabs his hand before he can.

“No. She doesn’t get to cum tonight. She’s been a brat.”

Chad looks at you in disappointment.

“Is that true, honey? Are you being a bad girl?”

You pout, shaking your head.

“He’s the one being mean. He was pretending like I didn’t exist the whole night.”

Chad turns to Ethan. “That true, man? C’mon, baby needs to cum.”

“No, she doesn’t. She doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.” Ethan brings his thumb into your mouth and shoves it down the back of your throat. You choke. “You’ve been a little smart ass all night. Don’t make me spank you.”

Chad shakes his head at Ethan’s antics, and moves up off of his knees. Ethan’s thumb slips out of your mouth, and he wipes the wet digit on your naked chest.

The sound of Chad’s belt is prominent in the room as he removes it. He tosses it to the floor somewhere, and takes off his jeans, beginning to pull out his hard cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of him; he’s big. Not as big as Ethan, but it’s definitely not far off. You reach out to grab it but Ethan tusks.

“No, no. Put your hands down.”

You whine in frustration, hands going back down to your sides. Chad smiles, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips, and you gladly accept it into your mouth. He begins to shallowly thrust against your tongue, and you look up at him sweetly. He holds your hair gently, and strokes his thumb along the seam of your stretched lips.

“There’s a good girl. Think you can take more, honey?”

“Mhm.”

And then Ethan is moving next to the both of you, fitting his cock in next to Chad’s. You moan at the stretch; it makes the corners of your mouth burn, makes your throat contract, but the way they’re both throbbing in your mouth makes your face blaze and your pussy clench.

Chad groans when his cock slips out, but you relieve him by stroking him with your hand. Ethan holds you down, so far that you can practically feel his length in your stomach, and you drool on him. He grunts, feeling his resolve slipping. He yanks you off of him.

“Get on your hands and knees, angel.”

You do as you’re told, going to rest on the bed, your back arched. Ethan approaches you, quick to kiss you and then run his fingers along your tongue. He brings the digit down to your ass, circling the hole and thrusting in. You gasp, having never felt this kind of pleasure before. He quickly adds another finger, and you whine at the stretch; your hips, however, move against his hand at their own accord. Your cunt is so wet that you can feel your juices drip down your legs and onto the bed.

Chad begins to move behind you, and Ethan removes his fingers. Chad spits on his cock, rubbing it in to get it wet. And then he opens up your ass cheeks with his hands, and teasingly rubs his tip against you. You moan, your pussy gushing down your thighs. Chad rubs his hands against your ass cheeks and spits down on your hole, then says,

“Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yes. I promise, baby. Fuck me.” You reply, and he pushes into you in one solid thrust. Your breath catches in your throat, and your body lurches forward. All you can do is sit there and take it.

“Jesus… you’re so pretty. Ethan is one lucky guy, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I am.” Ethan breathes. He moves in front of you. “You can fuck her harder, man. She likes that shit.” And then he’s grabbing your throat and kissing you with everything he can. He may not say it out loud, but he doesn’t like this situation. Not really. Although the sight of you being fucked in the ass by his best friend is pretty hot, he cares about you a lot more than he wants to admit.

You bring your hands up to his shoulders and cry into his neck when Chad’s thrusts become incredibly hard. He kisses your forehead, and brings his fingers down to rub your little clit. You almost cum then and there, but you remember to follow the rules. Ethan takes his length and slowly begins to penetrate your tight, awaiting pussy. Your eyes widen.

“I- I don’t think I can take anymore…” you trail off, and Ethan pushes into you more. Tears begin to well in your eyes at all the pressure, all the overwhelming feelings.

“You can, baby. I know you can. C’mon, don’t you wanna be good for me?”

You sniffle, but nod your head. Chad’s thrusts slow, and he groans when he feels your ass clench around him. Ethan enters his big cock into you, until his balls are pressed tightly against your skin. He slowly fucks you, careful to hold you upright on your knees. It’s hard to think when the both of them begin fucking you from both ends. You feel so full, so fucked out of your mind, and filthy. So fucking filthy. But you really don’t pay attention to that, because Ethan begins talking, like he always fucking does, begins running his fucking mouth and not shutting up.

“Yeah, you like that, sweetheart? Like two dicks filling you up? God, you’re a disgusting little bitch. Bet you’d take as many as I tell you to. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.. oh fuck!” Chad shoves the tip of his finger in beside his cock, and you almost scream. “Please let me cum!”

“Mmm.. maybe if you let us both cum first.” He laughs, then stops moving. You cry, trying to fuck yourself onto him. “Yeah, work for it. C’mon, little sis. You can do it.”

Chad groans from behind the two of you. “Dude, that’s so fucked up. Your dick is literally in her right now.”

“Shut up, Chad. No one asked you.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Chad replies.

“Bite me.”

And then Ethan is grabbing you and yanking you closer. His breathing is heavier, chest heaving, and you know he’s about to cum.

“Gonna let me fill you up, sweet thing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Atta girl.” He grunts, and let’s go. You feel his warm spend splatter the inside of your walls, feel his balls emptying against your cervix. Chad’s thrusts speed up, and you know he’s close, too.

“Want me to cum in this tight ass, honey?” He asks softly.

You nod eagerly, and he grabs your throat as he orgasms inside you. You whimper when the both of them pull out, and their warm sticky seed begins to leak out of you. Ethan makes a noise of disapproval when he sees the creamy liquid gushing out of your pussy. He takes his fingers and shoves it back inside. Chad brings his mouth down to lick up his own spend, and your eyes almost roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his tongue.

Your clit still throbs, and your face is soaked with salty tears.

“I.. I didn’t cum..” you murmur sadly, and Ethan sighs. You really are spoiled.

“Fine.” He says. “You can cum. But you only get to once. C’mere, sweet thing. Get on my thigh.”

You grin happily and comply, finally getting relief on your achy clit. It doesn’t take you long to orgasm, and when you do you swear you almost pass out.

And maybe you do, because the next time you open your eyes you’re laid down and Chad is pulling his shirt over his head. Ethan is stroking your hair, pressing light kisses to your face to wake you up.

“Hey, baby. You went to sleep on me for a minute there. I got a little worried.”

“Sorry, E. ‘M jus really tired..” your eyes almost flutter shut again, but Ethan slaps your cheek lightly. Your eyes open, and you giggle. He smiles.

“I hate to break it to you, angel. But this isn’t our room. We have to go home, okay?”

“M’kay.”

It takes you a moment before you can stand up; your legs feel wobbly, your head a little foggy, but you know you’ll be okay. Chad and Ethan both manage to get your clothes on you, making sure to wipe the cum off of your legs.

Bless the person who owns the room, because they’re going to be traumatized when they see the state that its in.

When you make it down the stairs, legs a little shaky, you catch sight of your friend. Ethan and Chad decide to leave a few minutes after you to not raise suspicion.

“Bitch!” Your friend yells, running towards you and pulling you into a hug. “Where the hell have you been? I thought you got like, trafficked or something.”

You laugh. “I’m fine. Just had a little… hookup, that’s all.”

She grins, and excitedly squeals.

“Oh, my god! Who was it?! This was like, your first time, right?”

You breathe out an awkward chuckle.

“Something like that.”

#Ethan landry #Ethan landry x reader #Ethan landry x fem! reader #stepbrother! Ethan landry x reader #stepbrother! Ethan landry #Chad meeks Martin x reader x Ethan landry #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin #Chad meeks Martin x fem! reader #scream 6 #scream

2K notes · View notes

shadesslut · 8 months

Note

Can I request something like readers family forgetting her birthday and ghostface!Ethan or ghostface!Chad or both 🤭 finds out and trying to cheer her up or maybe ghostface gives her a call when she's crying bc this isn't the first time they forgot her birthday but all gf wants to do is wish her a happy birthday with only minor threats (not towards her) and it either ends up with phone sex or a 'present' gets dropped off by her window

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy! :)

it takes two

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Gf!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader x Gf!Chad Meeks-Martin)

Content Includes: (Slight angst, smut)

Summary: Y/N's family forgets her birthday, but Chad and Ethan have a plan on how to cheer her up.

Masterlist

part 2

✮

The two boys watched closely on their laptop, trying to see every little detail. On their screen was Y/N, their neighbor. They had grown an infatuation with her ever since they met her. She was laid in her bed, under the comforter, crying her little pretty eyes out.

“Dude, how did you get this in there?” Chad asked Ethan, who was smiling proudly at himself. He had bought a small camera the week before, and he snuck it into her room one night.

“I wish we could hold her.” Ethan softly said as they both kept their eyes on the screen. Ethan ran his fingers along the surface of the screen, near her figure. She had been crying for a good ten minutes, and Ethan and Chad wanted to comfort her.

“Me too,” Chad replied.

Y/N cried softly as she looked at her phone. She had texted her family asking if they were coming to visit her for her birthday, but they forgot, again. All she wanted on her birthday was someone to celebrate it with her, and she couldn’t even get her family to do it with her.

“I have an idea.” Ethan suggested it to Chad. Chad nodded at him, letting him continue. “How about we make our girl feel special from an infamous caller?”

Chad smirked.

Her phone vibrated, and she immediately snatched at it, hoping it was a family member. She slumped her shoulders at the no caller ID, but answered anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N,” the deep and rough voice cooed.

She looked at her phone with confusion and held it back up to her ear. “Who’s this?”

“Are you having a good birthday?” Ethan asked through the voice modulator. The two boys giggled with each other as they watched her reaction.

“H-How did you know it was my birthday?” Y/N asked, sitting up, allowing the covers to drop to her lap, revealing the small and tight tank top. Ethan stuttered at the sight, and Chad’s mouth slightly parted. Both of their eyes immediately dropped to her cleavage.

“I-I,” Ethan stammered, then cleared his throat, “I know a lot about you, my sweet girl.”

Now Y/N was really scared, she didn’t know who this stranger was, and she surely wasn’t their girl. She stood up off of the bed, and both of the boys audibly moaned and gasped. She was only wearing a pair of black panties, which didn’t have much coverage.

Ethan felt his dick become hard, and he hesitantly reached down palm himself.

“Who are you?” Y/N sternly asked into the phone, but Ethan didn’t answer. He was too busy touching himself at the sight of her bare ass. Chad looked at Ethan, waiting for him to respond, and when he didn’t, he snatched the phone and voice modulator from Ethan. Ethan’s hands found their way shoved in his shorts, getting himself off.

“Don’t worry about that,” Chad started. “You having a good birthday?”

Y/N sighed as she gave up with the questions. “Not really, my family forgot.”

Ethan’s hand stopped, and he looked at the screen with a dark, evil expression.

“They what?” Chad asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m going to fucking kill them.” Ethan said as Chad comforted Y/N on the phone. She felt her tears start to water once again, blinking her eyelashes rapidly, not wanting to cry in front of this stranger.

“They don’t love you as much as I do.” Chad whispered softly through the phone. “If I could, I’d make them pay for forgetting your special day.”

Y/N looked concerned at Chad’s threat, but an unhealthy part of her loved the attention from him. She wondered if she knew the unknown caller; having no idea it was the two cute boys across the hall. “Give me the phone,” Ethan commanded, which made Chad’s cheek grow warm.

He handed Ethan the phone, looking him up and down.

“Do you know what I would do to you for your birthday?” Ethan asked in a low voice.

Chad reached over to Ethan, softly pressing his lips to his bare neck, causing Ethan to gasp. He ran his fingertips along Ethan’s forearm and continued to kiss him.

“W-What?” she asked.

Ethan eyed Chad, whose hands were reaching Ethan’s waistband. “I’d lay you down on your bed, and fuck you until you forget it’s your birthday. Fuck-” Ethan cursed as Chad got a hold of his half-hard dick. Chad kept his eyes on the screen, watching the way Y/N’s ass moved as she paced her room. He stroked Ethan’s cock, dragging his thumb over the wet tip.

Y/N didn’t answer, carefully listening to the quiet whimpers Ethan let out. Chad grabbed the phone out of Ethan’s limp hand and kept stroking him as he held the phone up to his ear.

“I’d make you feel good, the way you should feel on your birthday. I’d kiss you everywhere my lips would fit.”

Y/N’s heart beat faster at his words, subconsciously pressing her thighs together. Ethan’s eyes were closed tight at the feeling of Chad’s hand, approaching his high quickly. Ethan gripped Chad’s thigh tightly, and Chad reached over for an empty shot glass that sat on the table. He felt Ethan’s cock twitch in his hand, and he looked up to Ethan, seeing him watching Y/N slowly reach down to her panties. Ethan jerked his hips up, and Chad held the glass up as Ethan came into it. The thick liquid slid slowly down the side of the glass as Ethan moaned Y/N’s name.

“Look at your door in ten minutes, sweetheart.” Chad spoke one more time into the phone, before hanging up.

Y/N paced around her front door nervously, waiting. She got a text message, and she instantly checked her phone to see a text from the same unknown caller.

Happy birthday, look at your door

She opened the door and swung it open, but saw no one. She almost closed the door again before she noticed something reflective on the floor. A little glass vial, with a red bow wrapped around it, sat right in front of the door. She bent down and picked it up, examining it. It held a white liquid, and she felt herself become aroused.

“Fuck,” She muttered under her breath.

Two figures appeared behind her, dressed in masks and all black, tilting their heads at her. She was too enamored with the vial to notice them. The two looked at each other, smiled under their masks, and looked back at Y/N.

#scream #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #jack champion #ghostface x reader #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #ethan kirsch #chad meeks x ethan landry

548 notes · View notes

sensei-venus · 1 year

Note

gosh darn it tumblr. 😭 my original ask had a request for daniel x female reader where they're at daniel's place doing homework & the reader gets distracted by how attractive he is (aka horny) and one thing leads to another and they end up fucking and that homework gets shoved off the bed so fast

(Unedited)

“Uhhhh I hate this! How are you so good at this stuff when I just straight up suck at it!”

“It’s because I actually pay attention and take notes, not sleep all class. Like someone in this room.”

Reader huffed as she rolled onto her side on Daniel's bed. She fanned out on his bed and groaned into the mattress in annoyance. Her brain hurt just from the thought of another math problem. Daniel was way better at this stuff then she was and she wished he would suck it up and let her copy off of him.

But no he had to “help her” by trying to tutor her. It did little to help her at this point.

Daniel just smirked and rolled his eyes at her before looking back at the worksheet. His eyes scanning over his own work, not even bothering to look at the mess of Reader’s. It looked like it could rip at any minute from how much she had erased over the thin paper. He almost grimced at it.

Reader turned back over and looked at him. Her hand resting under her head as she laid on her side and just studied him.

She had only known the boy for a year and only dated him a few months now.

Up close she could see why some of the girls at school thought he was so attractive. She felt a pang in her heart, feeling like she was lucky to have caught his eye. For him to dating her. But that was nothing in her mind.

Daniel was attractive by all things holy. He might be slightly smaller and more scrawny then most boys, he wasn't beefy or have washboard abs. But it was attractive none the least. His face was a big winner for most girls including herself.

Big brown eyes that always had a glint of mischief in them. Tan skin that was only darkening the longer he stayed in the california sun. The almost invisible dust of freckles on the bridge of his nose. Not to mention his cute nose that fit his other features perfectly.

Kissable plump lips that he was always darting his tongue out to wet.

Reader couldn’t help rubbing her thighs together to try and get some friction. Her pussy was already starting to get damp just from just thinking about him. Her eyes glazed over just a little as she watched him work on his own homework. The way his jaw locked a little when he was thinking or the way he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He was already starting to get annoyed with his own work and he watched as his jaw started to lock up.

She slowly moved a hand over his bed sheets, her fingers ran up is arm and finally over his cheeks. He didn’t seem to interested or he just didn’t notice.

That was until her fingers ran though his thick hair and her hand grabbed a big chuck, giving it a hard tug at the roots. He grunted and his eyes sprang up to look her way. He puffed out a cheek before huffing, she just gave him a innocent smile.

“Soooo you said your mom was going to be working late today? Taking a double shift?”

He raised a brow before slowly nodding. A smirk coming over his lips as he started to get what she was hinting at.

Not even five minutes later the two where naked on his bed.

Reader giggled as she pushed him down and straddled his waist. She grinned as she started to stroke his already hard dick. He hissed as she played with him, her fingers playing along his shaft and her finger tip running over his slit.

She let go of him only to run herself against him. She was already slick as she rubbed her folds over him. His dick pushing though her soft spongy folds. They both moaned out at the feeling, the tip of his dick digging into her clit with every movement.

“Babe shit, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.”

“We don’t want that do we, not till your inside me that is.”

She laughed as she lifted herself up a little bit. Her had reached around to stroke him once more before helping to line him up with her pussy. His tip brushed her entrance before pushing fully into her wet heat. Slowly she let herself slid down his dick until he bottomed out. His bass pressed against her ass just right. They both moaned and groaned at the new feeling.

Reader panted as she let him settle inside her tight cunt. She felt so full with him inside of her, and he was so deep. Her head was in the clouds as she started to move on top of him.

Daniel grunted as she moved on top of him, her hands on his chest as she used him for leverage to move herself up and down on him. She was bouncing on his dick like not other and all he could do was try to help push and pull her down. He moaned out as he buried his face into her fat tits. Almost smothering himself in her soft tits as she moved around, her hips circling on top of him. He could feel how wet she was as she spilled all over him.

His eyes rolled back for a split second pushed himself deeper into her breasts. All he could hear was her heavy breathing and moans. The way her voice rumbled in her chest. He could hear the way her heart pounded. He groaned as she felt himself slowly start to let go. The coil in his belly was tight and about to snap, his dick felt like it was going to break off at this rate. The way she moved made his head spin.

His fingers dig into the rolls of his belly as he try’s to find some kind of purchase of leverage. Her bouncing only growing more violent by the minute. He could feel his balls throb. He was so close just a little more and he would be over the edge.

He felt her grind down and her pussy clench around him. Her tight channel fluttered and she squealed out before jerking around. It took him a moment to realize what even happened.

She just squirted on his dick.

That was all it took for him to go over the edge cum. His ball drew up as he unloaded a fat load of hot cum into her tight cunt. It quickly spilled out along his shaft with her fluid’s. Her own juices painted his thighs and pelvis. It was wet and sticky as they both lay together. Her weight was like a heavy blanket on top of him and he couldn’t help but snuggle more into her. His head resting against her pillow like tits. He sighed.

She panted over him before setting back into a normal rhythm. She hummed as her gummy walls flutter around him once again. His dick slowly softened but twitched inside her.

“Remind me to take these sheets down to the laundry later, at least before my mom gets home.”

“Ummm will do baby will do….”

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #daniel larusso x reader #cobra kai daniel larusso #daniel larusso x chubby reader #daniel larusso smut #karate kid #karate kid fanfiction #karate kid imagine #the karate kid series #karate kid blog #cobra kai smut #karate kid smut #cobra kai smut thought #cobra kai x chubby reader #chubby reader

1K notes · View notes

darling-answers · 4 months

Text

Breaking the bed/ Desk during Sex Talon Edition.

CLEARLY AS YOU SEE IN THE TITLE! NO MINORS ARE ALLOWED, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BLOGS THAT ARE CLEARLY 18+

Don’t interact, try to send in request or even try to justify your being in my 18+ blogs I don’t wanna hear them nor you should be respecting my rules as I have just as good fanfic that aren’t 18+ go read those ones.

There not really like huge Warnings that are icky but some warning includes,

Praising, degrading, Mommy Kink, obviously talon being talon, AFAB reader, Some have you as the wife some are girlfriend, no reader is really invert, Akande has a more You POV and not the character pov, Boob Kink.

I promise if you send in a request I will try to get to you when I feel absolutely motivated and have inspiration to write yours.

Please please show me love and support I appreciate your guys kindness and even just sharing or reblogging goes a long way!

OVERWATCH continues here!

Reaper

Coming back from a Mission just trying to enjoy his Wife company with his new found sex drive, Moira Experiments recently made his Sex drive go sky rocket. It has been a couple of weeks since he had his own wife pussy sheath on his cock, not waiting to fill in the report to Akande. He instantly heads for his living quarters with his wife, luckily living in the talon base all other agents will do there own thing and leave him to spend quality time with his beautiful sexy wife of 13 years.

The music coming from a room deep inside the huge living quarters notify Gabriel this his wife was home and she was not notified that Gabriel was home, the moment the door slam open a yell was let out, there in all her glory the one person his cock been aching to be in contact with, his beautiful wife. His tent was showing through his pants as she didn’t even hide the obvious fact he was horny for some nice warm pussy. Unbuckling the belt she gently grabbed his wife hair by the hilt and guided her body over to the bed. Shoving her face into the pillow before she could even great him, he pulled her dress up. “ No underwear, what a slut of a woman you are, do you just walk around Talon Base showing off your cuny to whoever that desperate to look at a whore.”

Dragging his cock through his wife folds, he slowly spread her lips spitting at the sweet cunt that is so deliciously slick. He gently poke his cock through her hole, coming to sheath himself fully inside, slowly coming to pull out of her and slam harder into her. Grunts come tumbling out of his mouth as he lets out a hard sigh, he gains speed as moaning and whines follow out of his wife, holding onto the headboard the bed lets out a whole bunch of squeaks before a loud crash follows out, startling his wife cause a loud scream and the muscles of her body tenses

“Fuck! your tight!” His Teeth grits as he let out a grunt, coming to slowly rub at his wife hips, “ Easy, baby, easy your alright, fuck me it scared you didn’t you, I’m sorry I guess I went to hard, don’t worry you did nothing wrong.” He pulls out, his cock is still rock hard as he comes to turn his wife around and rub at her stomach massaging the muscles that were strain. He puts his dick back in his boxers as he lays right next to his obvious scared wife who clearly was startled by the bed breaking

Her heart is racing as Gabriel comes to slowly rub at his wife body laying passionate kisses and firm hands to steady his wife. “ I’m so sorry again I didn’t mean to cause you to worry about me.” You did nothing wrong, you the most amazing and important person ever, thank you for all you do when I go, don’t worry about sex we can always do it later.”

Sombra

“Oh mi corderito que estas tratando de hacerme, estas tratando de poner a prueba mi paciencia no sabia que podias ser tan travieso dejame verte, desnudate para mi." She let out a growl and a purr, disappearing from view coming up behind her girlfriend, as her girlfriend lifts up her shirt cold gloves come up to gently pull and push, swirling her girlfriends nipples coming up to gently push her girlfriend skirt letting her purple underwear be hooked underneath the hacker nails, stripping her off her underwear she comes to gently play with her girlfriend folds while messing with her boobs, “ Nena sabes cuanto me gusta jugar contigo, jugar con estas chicas grandes, deberías saber que no puedo evitar querer tocarte a ti y a esta cosa bonita de aquí abajo. “

coming to swirl her clit around she kissing her neck as she bends her girlfriend over her desk, were credit card information and the latest political stunt she found from hacking for the fun of it, “ Let me make you a Mami, let these tits filled with milk as you take such good care of our baby, she has your eye, and my skin tone, please let me cum inside you.” For the first time Olivia, not Sombra, whimper as she slowly finger her girlfriend swirling her fingers inside the wet cunt of her girlfriends, “ just let go, don’t you dare keep it from me.” Sombra grunts out rocking back in forth between shoving her fingers over and over inside her girlfriend cunt, slowly hitting that spot that causing stars to shift in her girlfriend eyes, blurry eyes and vision, Sombra whimper as she shoved her hips into her girlfriend causing the desk to slowly break from under them making both of them slam into the floor, poor computer cracked but not broken, on the screen data slowly sent to all of talon high member phone. “ Olivia my, hips hurt now! I can’t feel my legs!”

She whimpers as she turns her head to look at her girlfriend who is smirking, head prop up from her elbow. “ we should do that again. Maybe instead of doing it in our room, we could have fun and use The Laboratory.” “ isn’t that M-Moira O’Deorain practical living place, she has never come out of the laboratory unless she has a mission, wouldn’t that make her mad?” “ she can piss off she already made me mad what fun would it be to get revenge!”

Sigma

don’t you even dare try to touch my baby, 😒 I love him so lemme give him some platonic affection and energy this is him breaking something but this is all just platonic.

“ Boo! I got you!.” Sigma wife shouted as she raised her hands, causing her husband who was deep in thought about the ants and fairies. The stuff around them started floating as she let out a little snort realizing that her husband was not in control with his gravity as his hand shook as he let out more stressful mumbles as he frantically moved around not noticing his wife casually floating as she gently pushed her hair down that keep coming up and higher till it couldn’t pull up anymore.

“ Mr Kruiper it time for you to come back to me now.” She a soft smile fills her face as she felt her husband look at her, “ I- I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me.” She felt Sigma slowly moved towards her and flat her hair that kept moving up, she was slowly pulled to the floor as object smash into the ground around them causing a groan from a passing high officer of talon, “ you did nothing wrong Bebe, let just clean up this mess together.” She mumbles as a sweet tone is filled within seibren brain as he happily giggles and start cleaning up the mess around them with his gravity, “ I’m so sorry for scaring you hun I never intended to you be to far in that headspace.” “ it alright you love me and I know that :D.”

Widowmaker

The feeling of a spider crawling into the nest that laid the innocent creature who was the center of attention. That was the feeling that both Lacroix, no widowmaker, and her innocent girlfriend bound by. No one would be breaking the web that Lacroix made for her girlfriend, not even Moira would have her hands near it,

“ Stay still for Maman a besoin que tu te détendes, tu es trop dans ta tête. Laisse-toi aller pour maman, n'essaie pas de lutter, nous y voilà, oui bébé, tu te sens si bien et si serré pour maman" Lacroix mumbled as she gently push you to ride her, bringing your hips to go down and up, trying to ride her without her guidance would be to hard for the small headspace your overdriven into. Coming to gently hold onto Lacroix breast squishing and gently push it and rubbed it, bouncing her hip up and down she let out a whine and a moan as she leaned in to kiss her Maman, “ Mummy! Mummy please, oh god oh god!” She tighten the hold of her grip on her maman breast as her cunt tighten on the strap that Widowmaker kept bouncing her on, cum started to drip all over the strap as a loud break and crash hit the couple as Lacroix let out a big sigh keeping the tight grip onto her girlfriend,

Il est temps de trouver un nouveau lit, non seulement tu m'as chevauché jusqu'à ce que notre lit soit littéralement cassé, mais maintenant le lit est tellement dangereux que nous ne pouvons pas dormir dessus." She mumbles as she come to squeeze her girlfriend butt as she gently lifted her girlfriend off the big purple strap, cum lays onto the French women lap as Lacroix gently pat her girlfriend hair coming up to gently pull a blanket over her body and pull her into another spare room of the apartment, “ this is vexing but we will make do with it until I can get a new bed for us, this time let not have you break it.” She mumbles shyly as she gently picked her girlfriend up placing her on the bed to come over and give her girlfriend as much care as she could give to someone.

Moira

“ oh, how pitiful you must be, coming to me to satisfied your urges, acting like a newborn fawn wanting there Mummy, if you really are that pitiful then me rejecting you should cause you no harm, you can whine and whimper but that will not change my mind, I have work to do go bother some other soul.” Moira let out a tisk going back to doing her latest experiment completely ignoring her wife that was horny and being difficult, normally if her wife said she had things to do she would pout and just let it go until later on, but no, she was needy and not even The Scientific Community would grasp her away from her wife. Moira let out a grunt went hands come to find her waist tugging her away from her excitement, cold slinder hands slowly come to grab around the hair of Moira wife. “ you can’t even control yourself, how can you live knowing that you will do anything to satisfy your urges, does dignity not matter to you?”

She comes to sit down in her office chair picking her wife up by the arms and laying her over her manspread legs, her butt high in the air, Moira landed spank after spank onto her wife butt as muffled wailing was heard coming from the laboratory, flipping her wife over she comes to swaddle her wife like a new born baby, gently opening up her coat letting sucking filled the laboratory, “ you do understand that your little breaks you make me take causing us to waste time with the scientific process that I have dedicated decades to. It not that I don’t appreciate you but you should learn that greedy will only get you so far.” Moira mumbles brushes few strands out of her wife hair as she suckles on her breast, gently lifting up her wife she puts her on the table after

Shooing the lab papers away from the table having them fall to the ground, removing her lab coat as her button up shirt was let open, she slowly unbuckle her pants grabbing her strap throwing lube on it from in the draw ( she doesn’t just use lube for sex, but other expirements.) She gently started rocking into her Wife, coming to slammed deep inside her over and over, her red hair getting in the way of some part of her vision as all she can see is the sweet delicious feeling of her wife cunts deeply nestled into her strap, almost like it was made for her. She lets out a hum as she racked her nails across her wide body as she comes to gently push a little to far into the table causing one of the legs of the table to get out. She stops and looks over at the broken table leg and just hums out a “ what if I test the theory of how much this table pressure can handle before it falls out? Maybe I can make use of this.”

Akande

( it wouldn’t let me add one more photo in so now I have to make do with what I have.)

“ we need to be more careful this bed can not hold on any longer then we have already went through.” he mumbled as he gripped your hand in between his face slowly coming to get in between your neck and shoulder. Letting out smooth kisses onto your neck all the way up until your lips he slowly pushed in further as his hips connected to your pelvic bone a big noticeable bump for throughout your tummy, a whine was it out of your lips as you felt Akande bring your hands down to your stomach so that you could feel how deep he was inside of you, his big hands fit with yours as he brings it back up over yours head restraining you from moving any further than where you were. He let you chuckle. as he starts seeing the bruising, that was there last time, you guys had sex slowly start forming again. Becoming big red spots to Light bruising.

“ you do know I do not have all day to entertain your thought. Well I do appreciate you and this amazing pussy. I have other… Negotiables to attend to so I cannot stay longer than I wish to. You will see me tonight and tonight will be an even better night than what it is now just you wait.” He mumbled into your ear as his big hand coming to hold onto the headboard cause it to snap into pieces of sheer strength, he let out a sigh as it has already happened before, as he slowly move some pieces of wood out of your hair.

We will need to buy a bigger bed. Soon we have already had to thrown away the others because of it, contact my company and see if we can get a new bed as soon as possible for now we will have to sleep in this spare bedroom, I apologize my love.” taking the hands of his lover, he slowly lifted her up with one arm, coming to gently have her in the bathtubs making sure to let out smooth bubbly water come to wash away her aching muscles as he mumbled something about the fact he didn’t get to cum and neither do you, but the safety of yours was more of a priority than anything.

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #darlingfics #overwatch smut #Talon x reader #moira x reader #sombra x reader #widowmaker x reader #sigma x reader #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes x reader #Akande x reader #overwatch headcanons

280 notes · View notes

dearlymrme · 11 months

Note

Hi can you pleaaaaassse do HCs about Copias corruption kink I’ll literally die

Have a little short nonny.

Innocence Is Overated (Copia x Reader)

You both have a kink.

Who does Papa turn to for confession with all his predecessors dead?

Copia has to try hard to convince himself once in a while. He’s a good man. He’s an honest man, well, sure, there's a little white lie once in a while, but he’s never hurt anybody with it. He’s never stolen, and he’s worked hard to get where he is now. (Even though he’s almost certain his name was drawn from a hat.) He keeps everything tidy. He’s frank. He’s polite. He’s a good man.

But his eyes are on you.

You’re new to the sisterhood and still wet behind the ears, with your habit on proper and not a hair out of place. You’re bright, you’re shiny, you’re fresh. You have a soft voice, a shy smile, and despite being a Sister of Sin, you have innocent eyes. He always sees you working, helping someone with their tasks or chores, volunteering to do more. You’re wonderful with the children, compassionate with the ghouls, and come up with fun games for both of them. You’re full of energy, your kind, you have such a sweet smile and give it to everyone, including him, you light up like a festive float anytime you cross someone in the halls. You're just so…pure.

And he wants to see you absolutely destroyed. He wants to see your mascara running with tears down your flushed cheeks. He wants to see your lipstick smeared and your lips puffy and kiss swollen. He was to see your neck decorated with a choker of bruises. He wants to see your tits suckled with bite marks. He wants to see your pussy, puffy and gummed with his leaking cum. He wants to take this pure ray of sunshine and turn it into the dirtiest fucking poster whore he can. He wants to wreck you in every way possible. Stain you in such a way nobody else will want you.

He’s a good man. He swears.

But any time he gets alone in his office, he imagines you and his cock throbs. He imagines you in his office dressed in all manner of skimpy things. Sometimes, it's your habit. Sometimes, it's a cute little plaid skirt. But more often, it's something white. Whatever it is he's flipping up your dress to slide off your cute panties (polka-dot, soft little clouds, even kittens) and stuffing his face between your thighs until your legs are quivering and you can barely stand. He imagines fingering your tight cunt and curling his digits until you sob his name just right and licks his lips at the thought of getting you to squelch.

He wonders if you’ve ever sucked cock before. He wraps a hand around his dick as it jumps at the thought that he’d be your first. Your eyes wide in alarm as he reveals to you his thick fat member and guides your hands down to wrap around it and get a feel for just how large he is. He’s the thickest you’ve ever had.

He imagines you swallowing nervously and looking up at him with a hint of fear.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” He promises. Oh don’t worry, he will. He’ll be gentle up until he manages to get half of it down your throat and then shoves in the other half without remorse. He’ll apologize. ‘An accident.’ He swears. But after that first gag and those first tracks of tears down your cheeks you’ll get the idea. You’ll try your hardest to get all of him down your throat, your pretty pink lips stretched around his cock and shiny with precum, spit, and your cherry chapstick.

He’d shower you with compliments and praise. You’d love it. He’ll help you discover your kink for it.

“Doing so good, taking me so well.” Your face would flush, and your thighs would rub together. You gag, you try your hardest to take him but your jaw hurts and he pulls you off gently by your chin and slaps your cheek with his wet, spit slick cock.

“Look at what you're doing to me. All that is for you. You're making me feel so good. Look how hard and wet I am for you." And you're wet and frustrated before he guides you to the bed and has you lay down. He pulls your legs apart and lines himself up.

Belial, you would be so tight, or perhaps it’s just been too long for you. Either way, you grip him like a vice and whimper when he stuffs you with his cock, he can feel your walls sucking him in and flexing around him as he pushes further and further into you and-

Copia grunts as the band in his lower stomach snaps and cum jets from his cock. He tightens his hand over his dick and squeezes before slowly gliding his fist over his shaft and milks himself of his release.

He sighs, slouching on his bed pillows, and lets his orgasm rumble through him. Then he reaches the nightstand and takes a few tissues, and cleans himself up.

This is always where the fantasy ends. He simply can’t help himself.

Satanas, what he would give for the real thing.

He's in the midst of cleaning up for the night when he hears a knock from his door and goes to answer only to finding you there with a flush on your face, that same flush he had been fantasizing about mere minutes ago. You're wearing a simple but thin tee-shirt with cartoon characters and a pair of shorts.

"Hello Papa...do you have a minute to talk?" And you're shifting your thighs just so, and he can't help but glance at your cleavage so obviously pronounced in your shirt. There, he sees a ruby red fabric with white circles, just barrly oeaking out from the low collar of your shirt.

Polka-dots.

And well...

...He does try very hard to be a good man.

#copia #cardinal copia #dee answers #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #ghost the band #the band ghost #ghost band

618 notes · View notes

ichorai · 7 months

Text

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part four (m).

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 18.0k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, smut, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, mentions of death, unprotected penetrative sex, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, tons of business talk, talks of nazis/fascism/conservatism, really morally grey shit, roman’s implied demisexuality, kendall & reader's popsicle war, mencken himself is a warning

series masterlist. main masterlist.

A conservative political fundraiser weekend was the last place on earth you wanted to be, but hell—Logan wanted you there, so who were you to say no to the boss? Besides, hubs like this were always good to sniff out who would be the most dangerous people on the red spectrum.

The hall was decked out in lavish decorations—chandeliers and golden ornaments and marble statues every which way you looked. It was full to the brim with mingling politicians of all kinds: the kinds being old white men, or…

Hm. Seemed like it was practically all old white men other than a handful of women wandering around. White women, of course.

You and Shiv locked eyes for a moment. Though the two of you shared many common political interests, at least much more than the rest of the family, you often found yourself on the opposite ends of agreement. But today, in a sea of men with confederate flags for dicks, the two of you found solace in one another.

“You can smell the panic,” she told you. “Berlin Bunker vibes.”

“They’re scrambling,” you replied. “Nobody was expecting this. Maybe they should’ve.”

Beside you, Roman cuffed your shoulder. “Ooh—the libtard and the soc-commie. How does it feel to be spelunking in the elephant’s asshole?”

“Calling me a communist isn’t the insult you think it is,” you told Roman, rolling your eyes.

“Mmh. I’m sure they would’ve loved you in the 1930s.”

Shiv crossed her arms. “We’re just corporate observers.”

“The weekend isn’t over yet—we’ll get our white cis-male stank all over you,” Roman commented snidely.

It was then that Greg came up to the group, expression muddled with confusion. “Hey, guys, some guy with an undercut just called me a ‘soy boy’. What, uhm, I don’t really know what that means? What is this, actually? Like what’s everyone here for?”

“It’s just a nice political conference of like-minded donors and intellectuals,” Roman told his cousin.

“I wouldn’t call them intellectuals, exactly,” you said with a frown. You were pretty sure half of these men owned podcasts talking about how toxic masculinity is fake, and the other half were so old they didn’t know how to turn the brightness up on their own phone.

“We’re picking the next president,” Tom piped up, which made Shiv arch a brow.

“That’s not… that’s not really how it works.”

Roman shrugged. “No, sure, but… it kinda is.”

“Is that—is that constitutional?” Greg queried, looking around worriedly, suddenly wondering if he was participating in yet another illegal activity.

“Welcome to the one percent, Greg,” you told him with a sigh. “Where you don’t have to worry about the constitution anymore.”

Roman pinched your cheek. “Awh, look at you, embracing the right-wing traditions! I love that for you.”

Wrinkling your nose, you swatted his hand away. “Six months till election day and still no candidate. Surprised everyone hasn’t unanimously agreed on putting the vice prez up on a pedestal.”

“Steady old plow horse, huh?” Roman said, directing his gaze to the old vice president, Dave Boyer. “He licks his lips too much. Like a—like a cartoon bear when there’s a picnic hamper nearby.”

You laughed at that, and Roman shot you a grin.

“I’m going to go take a tour. Check out the fresh meat,” he told you, and you nodded.

“I’ll be near the entrance if you need me.”

With that, he set off to mingle, hands shoved into his pockets to stop him from his habitual itching and scratching.

“Who are you thinking?” Shiv leaned forward to ask.

“Boyer. Seems the most obvious, easiest choice,” you replied, meeting her scrutinizing stare.

“Are you saying that because he is the easiest choice, or because he’d be the easiest to win against?” she asked with a sharp smile.

There was a momentary pause. “Why, who do you think they should put up?”

“I say we go blue.”

Your mouth fell open as you struggled to find the words to respond with. “Shiv, that just—that’d never work.”

“Why not?”

“You realize ATN is fucking—it’s fueled by everything right-wing! For us to suddenly bat for dems would bring nothing but angry conservatives and we’d lose a fuck-ton of shareholder money.” You shook your head. “Look, Shiv, I don’t like them as much as you do. But forcing your dad to swing blue is just a terrible idea.”

Her features hardened. “The least we could do is try. Right?”

Before you could respond, Roman came hurrying back, phone clutched tightly in his hand. He shoved the screen up against his sister’s face. “Did you know about this, you withholding bitch?”

“Uh, what?”

“You know Glyn, the, uh, the Brexit pervert?” Roman said, gesturing to the tall British chap with a large nose. “Yeah, he just sent this to me—apparently our mother is marrying Peter Munion.”

Both you and Shiv doubled with surprise. “What?” she asked. “Who’s Peter Onion?”

“I don’t fucking know. I wonder if that first-born fucker knew,” Roman said.

“I mean, if you guys didn’t know, I’m sure Connor wouldn’t have known, either,” you ventured, glancing over at the eldest sibling chattering to two other politicians about abolishing taxes.

Snorting, Roman replied, “No, the other first-born fucker. Kenny Dick.”

“Ah. Right.”

“Call him.” Shiv nudged her brother.

With a hum, Rome whipped his phone out and called his brother, putting it on speaker phone for the two of you to hear.

“Yeah, what?” Kendall’s voice came through on the second ring.

“Hey. Just wanted you to know that new dad just dropped.”

There was a brief crackle of silence. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Mummy’s getting married, you dingus.”

“Did you know?” Shiv leaned forward to query.

Roman snickered. “Of course he didn’t know, Ken bores the shit out of mom.”

You remembered one Christmas when you were children, the family was exchanging gifts—Kendall had set down a little red box in front of Caroline so she could open it. Something hand-made? You’d always wondered. The wrapping was shoddy. It was forgotten and pushed off to the side in favor of prettier, more expensive-looking presents. You were pretty sure Caroline hadn’t even seen the gift. Or maybe she did. Maybe she just didn’t care to open it. Nonetheless, Kendall, thirteen years of age, didn’t try to give it to her again. That night, when the servants were tossing away all the stray wrappings and ribbons, you caught sight of the crumpled red box chucked into a black garbage bag. You didn’t dwell on it, because Roman had heckled you away soon after to ‘watch’ Shiv play with her new dollhouse.

“What are you even talking about?” Kendall asked. He sounded angry. “You mean, she’s marrying Rory?”

“Uh, no. She took the view ‘Fuck Rory’,” Shiv said, glib.

Sneering, Kendall abruptly changed the subject. “Hey, Shiv, is it true you’re at the hate-fest? Burning books and measuring skulls down in Virginia?”

“Yeah,” Shiv deadpanned. “What are you doing with your weekend? Planning to send us all to jail? Your favorite past-time?”

Before it could escalate into a full-on argument, Roman pulled the phone close to him and said, “Alright, just wanted to let you know that Mummy still doesn’t love you. Bye, Ken!”

With that, he hung up.

“Do you think your mom is going to invite me to her wedding?” you asked, wrinkling your nose at the prospect of going all the way across the ocean when you had so much work piled up. “And would she be offended if I didn’t come?”

“Oh, she’s definitely inviting you. You know how she is. Needs everyone who knows of her existence to see how rich and pompous she is. She’d have a grudge against you if you didn’t come,” Roman told you.

You frowned, and Roman laughed.

“We can be each other’s date. It’ll be fun. Don’t worry about it.” He rubbed your shoulder, and began leading you off to the bar to get some drinks.

“Your mother would love that. Us, being each other’s dates? She’d gloat in our faces that she’s known all along,” you mused with a grin, before leaning against the counter and asking the bartender for your preferred drink.

“Or she’d be too self-absorbed to notice. And it’s okay for her to be that way because it’s her own wedding.” Pulling a sour face, Roman shook his head. “Blegh. I can’t believe she’s actually marrying someone named Bunion.”

You laughed softly. “Munion.”

“Whatever.”

Before either of you could say anything else, a figure approached the bar, standing just beside Roman.

“Hey guys,” said Mencken. “What’s up?”

Both you and Roman turned your heads to him. He shot you a glance, noting the unimpressed raised eyebrow.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, it’s the—it’s the ghost pepper. The spicy new flavor, Mencken.” Rome gave the taller man a onceover, drawing a long sip from his glass.

Mencken’s keen eyes darted from Rome to you, and back to Roman, scrutinizing. Burning. You couldn’t quite gauge what he was thinking, but knowing all the hot bullshit he liked to spew on the internet, you were sure it’d be nothing good.

Him as president? That’d be like putting a mask on Hitler and crowning him King of the nation.

“So what’s your deal? Most people here want to fuck me or kill me.” Mencken asked, leaning against the bar. “I’m hoping it’s the former.”

You weren’t quite sure if that was directed to you or Roman, but you were disgusted, either way.

Roman clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Ooh, wow. I always found it hard to care about politics, so… I trust in Y/N to have enough opinions for the both of us.”

He gave you a fond pat on the shoulder and you spared your friend a stiff smile.

“Right, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you,” Mencken said, sticking his hand out.

Staring down at his extended palm, you took a second to consider flat out ignoring him. But, not wanting to cause a scene, you shook it firmly, nodding curtly. “Likewise,” you lied.

When you pulled away, you made the conscious choice to discreetly wipe your palm onto your pants.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. The both of you, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, straightfaced.

“Tabloids never shut up.”

“They hardly ever do.”

Mencken crossed his arms. “To be honest, I always thought you two were just a PR stunt. You know the vibes… look away from all the sexual harassment, because the prince and princess of Waystar are being all snuggly at a charity event! But now that I’m looking at you in person…”

His words struck a nerve within you. A muscle in your jaw twitched.

Roman laughed, nervous. “We aren’t—we aren’t, like, a thing. I mean we—we kind of are, but we’re also not really—”

The older man whistled sharply, lifting a hand to stop him, as if he were a dog. “No need to explain to me. I’ve been down that road many, many times.”

“Roman and I are close,” you told him, voice steely. “The details are none of your, or the public’s concern.”

The way Mencken smiled was wolfish. Greedy, almost.

“Alright, here’s my party trick,” he said to the two of you. “Tell me who your enemy is, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

A part of you wanted to laugh. Where did he get that from, an alpha male, raw meat-eating youtuber’s podcast?

Roman sucked in a breath, amused. “Oh-kay. Let’s put a pin in that one.” He took another sip. “I’ve seen your poll numbers. You’re dark-horsin’ shit. Are people buying your whole… thing?”

Facism. That’s what Roman was alluding to. This man was a fucking fascist. The two of you were entertaining a fascist! You couldn’t believe what you’ve come to.

Mencken chuckled. “They better buy it. Or I’ll send them to the Gulag.”

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, wrinkling your nose.

“No, no, no. Not work camps. Just—summer camps. It’ll be like summer camps,” Mencken said.

“Summer camps but with beatings, right?” Roman asked, unsure if the man beside him was joking or not.

“No, no. Shh—no beatings.”

Mencken winked. He fucking winked! To your surprise, Roman laughed, genuine and chesty.

“Wow. Tough crowd, huh?” Mencken said, meeting your unamused eyes. “You always struck me as the quiet little country mouse. No wonder you’re sticking to the big-gun citymen.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t find labor camps all that funny,” you remarked, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“I’m just kidding. We’re joking around.” He elbowed Roman’s arm. “Is she always this uptight?”

You had to admit that it stung just a bit when Roman tipped his head back and laughed. “It’s what I like most about her. Ain’t that right, schnookums?”

You sniffed in disdain, shrugging off his hand when he placed it on your shoulder. You weren’t a huge fan of how… warm Roman was to him. It felt vile, and it felt wrong.

Tilting his head, Mencken smacked his lips together and started up, “So, uh… do you guys know yet? Who takes over?”

Roman stopped sipping his drink and set it down. “What’s that?”

“When they send the old battletoad off to the hoosegow.” His eyes glinted. “Your dad, Logan. Admiral Grope Boat.”

“Yeah, no, he’s not… that’s actually not happening,” said Roman. He scratched at the back of his head.

Mencken cackled at that. “Hah, yeah, that’s right. Stick to the line. That’s good.”

The two of them smiled at each other.

A sudden pit of nausea started curling within your stomach.

Boyer and Salgado approached the bar, striking up a conversation with Mencken, effectively roping his attention away from the two of you. You downed your drink and leaned against Roman with a mild hum.

“I really thought this event would be more interesting,” you admitted.

Shoulders shaking with his chuckling, Roman asked you, “What, did you think there’d be a gun-slinging showdown? Old western-style?”

“Well, yeah. What else do conservatives do?”

The two of you snickered under your breath.

It was then that Shiv came to stand by you, ordering a drink for herself. “Hey. What’ve you guys sniffed out?”

You offered her half a shrug, glancing over at Mencken. With a lowered voice, you said, “A lot of rotten apples in the orchard.”

The siblings both hummed at that—Shiv in agreement, Roman in amusement.

“Look at us, playing nice,” you overheard Salgado tell Mencken. To your credit, they weren’t quite using their inside voices. “People might think we liked each other.”

“Hey, I’m a conservative! I like tradition,” Mencken protested. “I doff my cap to vice president Boyer’s years of loyal service.”

“Thank you. I believe you used to call me Martin Van Boring.”

Mencken grinned. “Hey, come on! No, I still call you that.”

Nodding, Boyer shifted to speak to everyone else gathered around the bar. “Listen, Mencken and I may differ in some areas, but, uh, we both agree that this is the party of the working class now.”

Shiv pulled an incredulous face, scoffing loud.

“What? You don’t agree, Shiv?” Boyer asked. “All the richest counties in America are blue. The Democrats and tech hold all the wealth.”

“Oh, yes, because everyone here is scrounging through their couches for loose change,” you snidely commented, coolly meeting Boyer’s gaze.

The old man licked at his lips, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “Come now, I’m talking about the general public. We don’t count.”

Why not?

“I just think some of us get so high off of owning the libs, we forget to talk policy,” said Salgado.

Mencken snorted. “Yeah, Rick loves to talk policy! What he does is he memorizes a National Review issue from 2012 and then recites it back to you. Cool policy, bro.”

This made Salgado frown. “Mmh, Jeryd hates to talk policy because it would mean, you know, having one.”

Roman whistled sarcastically. “Sick burn, brosef!”

“Oh, no, no. We’re kidding. We are!” Mencken insisted. He smiled at you and Roman. “We like each other. I listen to his speeches every night. Yeah. They help me drop off.”

Out of the three politicians, you had to admit that Salgado was the most appealing. Sure, he was a pushover and really only concerned about his public image rather than what he was promoting, but it was better than Mencken the fascist and Boyer the conservative lip-licker.

“Maybe it’s boring talking about populist solutions for working families,” said Salgado.

“Rick, come on! You jerked off to Reagan’s headshot for thirty years, and now you’re Tom Joad?” Mencken jeered.

Rolling her eyes, Shiv told you, “God, this shit is so fucking boring.”

Overhearing, Mencken gave the woman a onceover. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” Shiv met his gaze. “No, I’ve just—I’ve seen your thing quite a lot.”

Mencken uncrossed his arms and then crossed them again. He was frowning, brows knitting together—evidently he didn’t quite like being tested.

“And what’s that? What’s my thing?”

“Youtube provocateur bullshit,” Shiv told him with a bitter laugh. “Aristo-populism. ‘Rape is natural, it’s all red pill, baby.’ I’m just—I’m just so fucking over it.”

“Have you read Plato?” asked Mencken.

Oh, God. Was he really pulling the philosophical literature superiority card? Was he being serious?

“Yeah,” Shiv said in a mocking voice. “Remind me, what happens?”

“Oh, read Plato! Read Plato!” Mencken told her, his manner condescending.

“Don’t want to!” Shiv exclaimed. “I don’t fucking want to!”

Salgado cut in, “See, he doesn’t actually want to have a conversation. He just wants to yell loud enough to get on ATN.”

“Nah! Fuck ATN,” Mencken said. The room fell silent, and all eyes were on him. For a moment, he looked at you and Roman, the two of you watching him with muted interest. You wondered if he was seeking both of your approvals. “No, really, ATN is treated as a bulwark, but it’s dead. It’s basically a pudding cup at 5 PM in the nursing home. It’s status quo bedtime stories to maximize shareholder value.”

Though you didn’t want to agree with any of Mencken’s sentiments, you had to admit that his take on ATN was a valid one. ATN was hardly a reliable source, with its heavy right-wing influences. To you, it was merely a station to feed into the delusions of the older conservative generation. At the thought, you looked over your shoulder to Logan, seated on a table not too far from the bar. You only saw his back, but you wondered if he was listening in.

“Honestly, it doesn’t speak to me,” Mencken continued on. “Doesn’t speak to the people I talk to.”

“And who is it you talk to?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mencken stared at you for a moment before answering, “People who want to see the truth. See the natural order of things.”

“Natural order. Wow,” you whispered under your breath. With that, you ordered another drink. You couldn’t listen to all this bullshit sober.

Mencken nodded. “Logan Roy was an icon. But, you know… he’s no longer relevant.”

“Do you recognize this fucker?” Roman asked, shoving the phone in Shiv’s face.

“Nope,” she said.

You peered over his shoulder to see the wedding invitation on his screen, zoomed into his mother’s fiance’s face.

“Fucking jelly-boned, low-T, pip-pip cheerio fucker,” Roman muttered as he shut the phone off and slid it back into his suit jacket’s pocket.

You pressed the button on the elevator to go up. Logan had called all of you up to the royal suite to discuss options for the next red presidential candidate—something you weren’t at all looking forward to. “He doesn’t look all that bad. Do you think your dad knows?”

The doors slid open and the three of you filed in.

Roman tilted his head. “No. But we have to stop the wedding, right?”

Both you and Shiv exchanged incredulous looks.

“Stop obsessing over Mom’s new husband,” Shiv told her brother. “Just get over it. Who cares?”

Narrowing his eyes, Roman asked, “Get over it? It just fucking happened. My mother’s marrying some dickhead, crooked-toothed turnip man.”

“His teeth looked quite nice in the picture, actually—” you began, before falling silent at Roman’s loud groan.

“What’s wrong is how little you care about it, you frozen bitch,” Roman commented off-handedly, making Shiv roll her eyes.

“Oh, poor Rome! His dreams of porking Mom are slipping through his little lubed-up fingers!” she leered, snickering a little.

A frown crossed your features. “It’s okay to care about it, Shiv. I mean… it’s your mom.”

“Something she often forgets,” she murmured, and that marked the end of the conversation.

The elevator rolled to a halt, the doors opening once more to a grand hall. The door to the suite was all the way down, and the three of you made your way there in contemplative silence. Logan was inside to greet you, along with Tom, Hugo, Connor, and Greg (who was awkwardly lingering by the curtained windows).

“There’s a lot of chat flying around. A lot of flapping,” your godfather said once everyone had settled in. “We need one voice on this, or we could fall apart and hand it to the fuck-fuck donkey gang.”

Donkey gang, obviously meaning the democrats. You spared Shiv a look—she was seated away from her husband, frowning down at her hands.

“So… who do we like?” Logan asked.

Shiv cleared her throat and said, “Shouldn’t we kick it around for a bit? Feels like it’s poised, so if you and Petkus come together, and the other donors follow, it just—”

“Exactly,” Logan deadpanned. “We’re picking. We haven’t got all night.”

Occupying one of the long sofas all on his own, Connor put forth, “I like Connor Roy.”

The room lapsed into silence for a few seconds. Roman smiled, amused.

Calling back to the short conversation you had with Shiv earlier, she said, “Honestly, Dad, I think you go Dems.”

Immediately, the two brothers in the room reacted with incredulity.

“Wow,” Connor scoffed.

“Jesus Christ! What, are we all going to hold hands and sing kumbaya next?” Roman exclaimed. Then, he sat up straighter. “Uhm, I… I kinda like Mencken? But—I know he’s kind of shitty, so if it’s now, I guess I’d say Boyer. But can I also just say that I don’t like Boyer?”

Though you were not at all happy that Roman was leaning for Mencken, you had to agree that Boyer was a safe choice. You crossed your arms. “Hard pass to Mencken. I say we go Boyer. Vice is nice, no?”

Shiv sighed loudly.

“What? What’s with the fucking attitude?” Roman asked.

The redhead held her hands out. “Okay, look, no disrespect, but Boyer was yesterday’s papers. The Dems will run on change and blow him away.”

“Ooh, Mrs. Politics,” crooned Roman. “How many big races did you win as a consultant? Four? Three? Did you win two? One?” He held up his middle finger.

She scowled. “Roman, Boyer is not a winner, and we know that.”

“Okay, then, should we talk to Mencken?” he asked. “See if we can deal?”

Vehement, Shiv said, “Uh, can I just say something? Mmh, no. Mencken is an integralist, nativist fuckhead. He’s toxic! He’s fucking—he’s ‘medicare for all, abortions for none.’ And his idea of diplomacy is shooting roe deer with Viktor Orban and then starting the trade war with China! Look, I know that there’s the carnival bark, and there’s the fucking show, but he’s outside the American political tradition. I think we have a responsibility as Waystar—”

She was cut off when Roman began humming the national anthem.

“Fuck you, Roman!” she spat out.

You put a hand on his arm, and he stopped humming. “I know my opinion here means little to nothing, but… I don’t like Mencken. He’s radical, and he’s dangerous. I’m not saying we swing blue, either. I’m saying we stay safe with Boyer. Our position right now is… precarious. It’s the best option we have.”

Logan studied you, and nodded twice. He was never one for safe options, though. You knew that full and well.

Both Roman and Shiv burst into an argument then, lobbing insults back and forth at each other. Tom stared blankly at the ground, looking even more exhausted than he usually did.

“Stop being a dirty little pixie whispering swastikas into Dad’s ear!” Shiv ground out.

“Boom! There you go again! So fucking route one!” Roman exclaimed.

The scowl on her face deepened. “I’m not saying it’s going to be the full Third Reich, but I am genuinely concerned that we could slide into a fucking Russian Berlusconied Brazilian fuckpile!”

Raising his brows, Roman shot back, “You have a trophy husband and several fur coats. I think you’re gonna be fine.”

“Tom,” Logan said, seemingly unaffected by the harsh bickering. “Who do you like?”

“Me? I, uh… I think Shiv talks a lot of sense. I also jibe with Salgado.”

Blowing out a breath, Roman said, “You jibe with him? Pretty sure that’s racist, Tom.”

“Salgado is another safe alternative,” you said. “Just not… not Mencken.”

This made Roman nudge his elbow into you. “I thought you were all about giving people chances! Mencken, he’s… you and him have a lot of beliefs in common, actually!”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“You’re, uh, both against free-market capitalism! That counts for something, right? Why don’t you just give him a chance?”

You pinched the space between your brows. “Rome—”

Before you had a chance to finish, Roman was addressing Logan. “Dad, I know you came to the market to get a nice milk cow, but we found ourselves a fucking T-rex, okay? He’s box-office. The guy is fucking diesel. I mean, he’s good on camera. He’s fun! He’ll fight. Viewers will eat out of his hand. No downside.”

“Uh, right, no downside. Let’s just invade Poland, Dad!” Shiv scoffed. “His chief of staff broke a kid’s jaw at a rally!”

“If we don’t come to an accommodation, we get outflanked and we lose the ATN dollar machine when we need cash to fight Tech. Right? Shiv wants her way, I want my way, Connor wants his way, so that’s even.”

Vehemently, Shiv protested, “It’s not fucking even! My opinion counts for more!”

Everyone looked to her, miffed. She sounded more like a child than anything.

“No, it does! It just fucking does! I know this! People hate Mencken. They fucking hate that guy!” Shiv lowered her voice, as if just realizing that she was yelling a notch too loud. “You have to look at the climate.”

From the windows, Greg raised a hand. “Do I—do I get a vote?”

“Oh, sure, buddy. You get to vote at the election with all the other folks,” Roman told his cousin, humorously.

“Yeah, well, I just thought I’d get a… bigger vote in here?”

Ignoring him, Hugo said, “Boyer is likely to be flexible over the DOJ.”

“Not if he doesn’t win,” Shiv said. “Which… he won’t.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” you sighed. “You’re blue, Shiv.”

“My personal politics and the company’s values are on opposite ends of the spectrum,” she clarified. “I have to put the company before myself.”

“Okay, we’re hearing rumors that the case is weakening,” Hugo said. “No one big is likely to do jail time. With the notable exception of Tom, of course. Sorry, Tom.”

Visibly, Tom’s shoulders seemed to stiffen, but he nodded nonetheless. “No, please, Hugo… understood.”

Shiv turned to address her father again. “If you don’t go blue, Dad, then at least we have to be backing Salgado.”

This made Connor audibly groan. “Ugh. Señor Dickless. Captain of the Tampa Bay Cuckaneers.”

“Look, I don’t like him. He’s a neocon pretending to be a paleocon, but he at least talks base!” Shiv said.

Roman clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Wow. I think you’re so brave for picking the brown man. I think that we should get you a medal! A special medal for white women who like brown men.”

“Wow, okay. You’re just being racist! You’re being racist now!” Shiv said, swinging her incredulous gaze from you to her father.

In a mocking tone, Roman said, “Oh, yeah, I’m a good girl! I pretend to care about people because nobody ever cares about me!”

“Hm. Roman, do you have anything you wanna tell Dad? A message from Mom, maybe?”

He recoiled, frowning. “Uh, yeah, wow. Fuck you! Thanks, I do.” Roman looked to his dad, and he could feel the familiar fear creeping up and seizing his ribcage. It helped that you’d shifted your hand to lay over his, but only barely. “Mom’s getting remarried.”

Logan nodded, contemplative. “Hm. To Bertie Woofter?”

“Ooh, no. To Peter. Peter, uh, Peter Munson.”

“Munion,” you whispered.

“Peter Munion,” Roman corrected.

Anger clouded over Logan’s eyes. “You’re fucking kidding. The seat sniffer? Christ. He’s been hanging around for forty-some years!”

“Yeah, and, well, she’d love it if you came to their big Tuscan wedding.”

“Ooh, La-di-da,” Logan said, sucking in a deep breath. “And they sent you as their messenger boy?”

He laughed and laughed. Roman shrugged.

“Okay,” the old man finally said. “Back to it, then. Who are we picking?”

“I guess there are other names,” Hugo offered. Connor coughed pointedly into his fist, but nobody paid him any mind.

Firm, Logan said, “We have to be united on this. It’s a disaster if we splinter.”

“Salgado has great narrative,” Shiv said.

Scowling, Roman spat out, “Quit butt-huffing Salgado! We all supported your little DC lemonade stand, but this is the real fucking world. This actually matters.”

Lip curled, Shiv replied, voice dripping with venom, “Roman, you just love the boot because you like to be kicked by it.”

Clearly hurt, Roman sucked in a deep breath and picked a piece of lint off his pants.

Connor coughed again, and Logan finally asked him what was on his mind.

“Nothing,” the eldest son said. “No, it’s nothing.”

As if to entertain a ludicrous notion, Logan smiled. “What about Connor?”

“I do believe that idea has good promise,” Connor exclaimed. “I do!”

“I could see it,” Logan said. It was strange seeing him smile in such a way. You couldn’t quite decipher its genuinity. “Kids?”

With a slight snicker, Roman raised his brows. “Uhm… sure, I don’t know.” After a pause, he straightened and asked in a more serious tone, “Wait, but, like—really?”

“It feels very…” You winced, sending Connor an apologetic look. “Very nepo baby? Very rigged.”

Roman shrugged. “They’re all fucking weirdos, anyway. Why not?”

“I mean, he’s a good-looking kid,” Logan said. “He’s smart… in his own way. Fucking Joe Kennedy did it for his boys, no? So let’s get him in there with a smile and a shoeshine and get Ron and everyone behind him.”

No way the matter was settled. Shiv crossed her arms, eyes darting every which way in an incredulous manner.

“I would fight so fuckin’ hard for this family, Pop,” Connor told his dad, warmth spilling over his features.

Logan casted his gaze over to his daughter. “Siobhan. As a political consultant… what do you think?”

“Well, no huge name ID, but the family name will be a factor and… uh, he’s got no track record.”

“Nothing to beat me with,” Connor emphasized with a charming grin. “I’m a clean skin!”

They yammered on some more, and Roman rubbed his knuckles along his hairline, seeming stressed. He pulled out his phone and shot out a few texts really quickly, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

Finally, once he put the device away, Roman shook his head. “Okay, but, are we being serious about this? We’re talking about trying to make Connor president?”

All the warmth drained from Connor’s face, replaced by a marring frown. “It’s a big tent, Roman. Why don’t you just come in?”

“Sure. Right. I might just call the guy who waxes my balls, he would be a great president, don’t you think?” Roman retorted.

Shiv interjected once more. “If we’re talking about this seriously, I really think we need to take a look at Salgado. Can I bring him up here without being fucking shot?”

Connor rolled his eyes and Roman groaned.

Finally, Logan’s eyes landed on you.

“You’re for Boyer, Y/N?”

You sat up straighter. “I think he’s safe. Most conservatives like safe. Or, at least, the illusion of safety. Boyer can give them that.”

There was a second of a pause, before Logan nodded. “Hugo. Call Boyer.”

“Well, if Shiv gets to bring up soggy Salgado then I wanna see if we can tame Mencken, okay?” Roman asked just as Hugo handed Logan the phone. In a quieter voice, Roman leaned forward to whisper to just you, “I arranged a meeting with him tonight. Come with?”

You reared back, eyes narrowing. “What? No, Roman.”

“Please? Just… you don’t even have to say anything. Just hear him out. What if he’s not all that bad?”

You blew out a steely breath. Meeting with a fascist was certainly not something you ever thought you’d agree to do.

Begrudging, you muttered, “Fine. But please, Roman, don’t be serious about him. I’m begging you.”

Roman gave you a half-shrug, which didn’t quell any worries you had one bit. “We’ll just see how the dice rolls.”

When Boyer finally picked up the phone, the two of you lapsed into silence, listening in on the conversation. His voice was groggy, as if he’d just been woken up. He didn’t sound too happy at Logan’s request to come to the room.

“Oh… and my fridge is empty, Dave. I don’t suppose you could bring me a Coke?” Logan said. You raised a brow in surprise whilst Roman smiled down at his lap. It was a power play—a reminder to Boyer that he ate out of Logan’s palms.

“Did you mean to call room service?” the vice’s voice crackled through.

“If you don’t have a Coke, is there something else? Could you, perhaps, fire the deputy attorney general?”

“Fire the deputy attorney general?” Boyer parroted, twinged with disbelief.

Logan smiled, laughing. “I’m kidding. Come on over. Have a chat. If it’s convenient, of course.”

Five minutes later, Boyer was at the suite’s door. You had no time to listen to his talk with Logan, because Roman was already up and pulling you out the door. He spared no explanation to Shiv, who watched the two of you leave with suspicious eyes.

You took the elevator a floor down, where Mencken’s room was.

Roman was the one that knocked, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet anxiously.

“Come in!” you faintly heard Mencken’s voice say. Both you and Roman exchanged looks, yours warning and his pleading, in a sense.

He wanted so badly for your approval.

The two of you stepped in, met with an empty hotel room. It took you another moment to realize that the bathroom door was ajar, Mencken standing in front of the mirror with just a towel hanging over his hips, shaving foam shadowing over his chin and jaw. He was dragging a razor through the white foam, a smile to his lips upon seeing the both of you.

“Hey, guys. Glad to see you again.”

Roman smiled back, leaning against the bathroom’s door frame while you lingered behind him.

“So… I—we just wanted to chit-chat a little bit. That was funny earlier, by the way. You tripping the light fantastic on Grandpappy’s nutsack.”

Mencken hummed. “When I called your dad bullshit? Did that bump?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve never seen that before. That was fucking hardcore,” Roman commented. “Y/N isn’t a fan of ATN either, as it turns out.”

For a moment, you sent Roman a half-hearted glare. He’d said that you wouldn’t have to say anything.

“Ooh. Waystar’s princess, not liking Waystar? How meaty.” Mencken tilted his head back to shave the nooks and crannies that were harder to maneuver around. “Good for you, though. The thing is… this monkey don’t dance.”

Roman laughed, pointing at him. “This monkey right here? The monkey shaving in a hotel bathroom?”

“That’s right.” Finally, Mencken rinsed off the last bits of foam from his face, wiping off the excess dampness with a towel. There wasn’t a single nick on his face—you thought of the many times you’ve watched Roman shaved, when he always somehow managed to garner a dozen or so tiny cuts along his jaw. Mencken turned to face the two of you.

“Listen, I did want to talk to you about something. Fuck it, I’ll just come right out and say it.” Roman eased into the bathroom, leaning against the wall opposite Mencken, tugging you in as well. It was a strange feeling—you’d never had a meeting in a bathroom before. Wrinkling his nose, Roman said, “Fascists are kind of cool… but not really. So, is that, like, gonna be a problem? Will it be a thing?”

It unnerved you when Mencken sighed, stepping closer to the both of you. So close, in fact, that you could smell the shaving cream he’d used. Your brows furrowed in distaste and fixed your stare on the tile down below your feet.

“Seriously? Me? I just… I don’t have a lot of boundaries.”

Evidently, you wanted to snap. But you kept quiet.

“St. Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Schumacher. I’ll borrow from anyone. To restrict me to that label is just… it’s not right, is it? You know, if Franco or H or Travis Bickle had a good pitch, fuck it!”

This made you tear your gaze away from the ground, meeting Mencken’s stare head-on. He was much closer that you realized, and that made you all the more uncomfortable.

“H?” you finally croaked. “As in—?”

He spared you a wolfish smile. “I’m a fully-fledged, small-dicked Democrat.”

“I don’t think you are,” you challenged.

This made him tilt his head and bark out a laugh. “Which one? Small-dicked or a Democrat? Because I can tell you now that neither of those are true, sweetheart.” Your unamused countenance seemed to only fuel him further. “A well-regulated election is a transmission frequency for God’s grace, really.”

“Holy shit,” Roman whistled. “You really are a Christian, aren’t you?”

“Well, no, no, my only thing is like—who’s the stakeholder, right? I’ve been tending my little garden for a hundred years, and then forty new guys show up in the back of a truck, playing their boombox. When it’s put to a vote, they decide to, uh, give my farm to themselves. I mean, it’s ridiculous, right? Maybe we should be putting in before we get to take out.”

There was so much to pick apart with his ideology. So many flaws, so many weak-links. But you didn’t say anything.

Instead, Roman asked, “Okay, well, who gets to join?”

“People trust people who look like them. That’s just a scientific fact. They will give more tax dollars to help them,” Mencken said. “And I know you look nothing like me, ma’am, so I’ll just say it plain and clear. I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust me. But that’s just part of the thrill, no?”

You recoiled back into Roman. “What the fuck are you talking about? What thrill? Can you just—back up a bit? You’re all up in my fucking personal space.”

Your scowl loosened just a tad when Mencken raised his hands and took a step back. He snorted. “Sorry. Don’t cancel me. Or do. I don’t think it matters much, right?”

He was right, but you didn’t say it.

“I like this country,” Mencken admitted. “I do. I like the people in it.”

“Not all the people, though, right?” you carefully asked.

“Of course, not. And don’t get all high and mighty on me. You can’t say you like all the people in it, now can you?” You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. “We aren’t too different, you and I. Roman… I see why he’s taken a liking to you. You have some sense about you.”

You gave Roman a questioning glance, wondering what on earth he’d said to Mencken through text.

You clenched your jaw. “I’m not here for you,” you finally breathed out. “You can’t sway me, Mencken.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.”

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Roman finally intervened before you could get too heated, “In terms of, you know, this thing we have… there’s a thing here, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I get it. You’re fucking 6G and we’re Betamax, but you need us, I think. Our news, our viewers, those fucking almost-deads. That’s a big slice of pie,” Roman explained.

“Well, if I’m the nominee… are any of them really going to vote against me?” he asked.

Half a shrug lifting one of his shoulders, Rome said, “No, but… it’s going to be a fucking shitshow going into the convention. I think you could really use our push.”

You weren’t happy about any of this. But Logan had already called Boyer. The deal was done, right? You’d walk back up to the suite, and the next red-wing electee would be picked. This was all… for nothing.

Right?

Mencken nodded. “And I think you could use my push.”

“Maybe,” Roman admitted.

“Where are you in all this?” Mencken asked Roman, curiously. “What’s the little forgotten Prince doing?”

Roman made a nervous, whooshing sound. “I’m, uh, you know. I’m creeping on the come-up.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mencken glanced at you, as if to decipher whether or not he was telling the truth. You betrayed nothing, looking back down at the tiles.

“I’ve got some ideas for ATN. Sluice out the fucking porridge and add some sriracha. Poach some of those TikTok psychos, you know? E-girls with fucking guns and Juul pods. Give me some straight-shot blacks and latinos. That’ll get a few generations turning heads. No more of this fucking… pillows and bedpans. We’re strictly bone broth and dick pills. Deep state conspiracy hour but with, like, a fucking wink, you know? It’ll be funny.” Roman clapped his hands together. “The whole show is kinda set up for the star. President Jeryd Mencken.”

Your face soured.

“I like that,” Mencken said, stroking his freshly-shaved jaw. “I like that a lot.”

“Well, I don’t. Good fucking luck, Roman.�� With that, you straightened your shoulders and marched out of the bathroom, needing to get away from the two of them. You needed air. More importantly, you needed to get up to the suite and ask if they’d settled for Boyer.

The two men stood in the bathroom, silent for a few moments.

“I think she likes me.” Mencken smirked.

Roman scratched at the back of his head. He was really hoping you’d see the better side of Mencken, like he did. He just hoped that you weren’t too angry with him. You hardly ever got mad, but when you did, it always felt like the end of the world to him.

“Right… can you, uh… come up and say hello or something to him? My dad?” Roman glanced at the door. “Oh, and bring a can of Coke with you.”

Logan chose Mencken.

That night, you crawled into the cold hotel bed and cried. You felt so… so trapped in a life that you didn’t want to live. You briefly wondered what would happen to you if you quit your job entirely, but you pushed the thought away almost as quickly as it came. It wasn’t something you liked to entertain.

Half an hour later, you could hear your door opening.

Right. You’d forgotten that Roman had asked for another set of the key card to your room. You quietly wiped your tears away, grateful that it was too dark for him to see.

He slipped in behind you, sliding his arms over your waist and pressing his nose into the back of your neck.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked.

You chose not to reply, pretending to be asleep.

“It’ll be good,” he said, eventually. “He’ll be good. I promise. His dick is big enough for the both of us.”

You shifted your foot just a bit, but that was enough for Roman to know that you were awake.

“Stop ignoring me.”

“I don’t want you here,” you murmured.

There was a shuffle behind you. Roman cleared his throat. It was so unbearably tense.

“If it’s Mencken you’re worried about—”

“I don’t want you here,” you repeated, a warbling edge to your voice. “I love you, Roman. Please leave.”

He went stiff. One second, then two, then three.

“I love you, too,” he finally said. It was said with no joking tone, no playful quips, no inappropriate remarks. It wasn’t often that Roman told you that he loved you, at least compared to the number of times you’d say it to him. Maybe it was because he never knew if you meant I love you, or I’m in love with you.

And with that, he slowly slipped his hands off of you, and got back onto his feet. He made a show of leaving the key card on the nightstand, before making his way out of your hotel room.

He shut the door behind him, standing in front for a minute. A part of him wanted you to open up and beg him to come back. An even more delusional part of him expected you to do so.

Instead, Roman could hear your muffled sobs ricochet from behind the door. Something within him seized up. He turned on his heel and left.

Kendall had invited you to his birthday party, to your surprise. After all that transpired between the two of you, you hardly expected to be wanted at his party. Though, from what you heard, it was hardly a personal affair.

It didn’t seem like your kind of event, honestly, and you hardly had a reason to go. You loved Kendall, but you could tell him that any other day of the year, when he wasn’t surrounded by fucking vagina-entrances, childhood treehouse replicas, and miniature Wu-Tang dancers. Though, Kendall told you to keep that last bit on the down low. The dancers were meant to be a surprise.

But you weren’t at all planning on going.

That was, until Logan decided otherwise for you.

There was a problem with GoJo, and Logan was pissed that Matsson hadn’t shown up. Something about blatant disrespect, he’d said.

“He’s going to this fucking party, isn’t he?” Logan had barked. “Huh? Where is he? Getting his nails done? Asshole whitened?”

Roman squinted at his dad. “I think we just have to court him a little, is the thing—”

“Bah. No. It’s bad fucking juju to start like this,” Logan snippily said.

You quirked a brow, knowing Logan was never one to be superstitious.

Shiv and Roman both tried to broach more options, but Logan shut them all down. “The deal makes sense. It’s a great deal. But he won’t make the deal because he’s being an arrogant prick.”

“Fine. Yeah, sure, Matsson’s an asshole. But should we really burn our only parachute because of that?” Shiv stressed.

Logan leaned back in his seat, regarding his daughter. “It’s just smart business, Shiv. I don’t want to pay over the odds. And eventually, the market will make him make the deal.”

You shook your head. “The market has plenty of better hands to deal him.”

“Someone can make a better offer, and we’d be screwed,” Roman agreed.

“Dad, we have a scale issue. Our streaming platform is for shit, and we have nothing that looks like growth,” Shiv added on. “This gets us consequently into streaming, into sports betting—social media! We have a little window. Miss this, and we end up being pilot fish nibbling leftovers from Bezos’ fucking teeth. Dad, please. If you don’t want to talk to Matsson, fine. But let me.”

“Let us,” Roman interjected. “We can all do it. He’s gonna be at the party, right? We’ll go.”

“You’re going?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow at Shiv.

Her eyes darted from her father to her brother. “Mhm.”

Heaving out a breath, Logan nodded. “Y/N, you go with them. Don’t go in too strong. This is a black box, and I don’t want to overpay.”

You wondered if Logan wanted you there to help broker the deal, or if he wanted you there to make sure Roman and Shiv didn’t start clawing at each other’s throats.

Shiv nodded, muttering something under her breath, and darted out of Logan’s office to make some preparations. That just left you and Roman standing in front of Logan. The air between the two of you was still tense since the whole Mencken debacle.

You were about to step out as well, before Logan said, “Since you two are going, might as well give him this in person.”

He slid over an envelope. The three of you, along with Gerri, had discussed its contents: an offer for Kendall to cash out of the company for good. Roman glanced at you, and you used your head to gesture for him to take it.

“You think he’ll like it?” Roman asked his dad, who offered him half a smile and a shrug.

When he turned to look at you, the glass door was ajar and the spot where you were standing a moment ago was vacant.

Roman��s palms were sweaty. This was about the fifth time he’d wiped them down the front of his suit’s pants, hoping they’d just air out on their own by the time he got to your door.

They didn’t, but Roman found himself shrugging it off. You’d seen much worse than sweaty palms when it came to him.

It was an hour before the party was supposed to start—more so if he wanted to be fashionably late, didn’t want to seem too desperate—and he rang the bell.

It’d only been a few days since the two of you properly spoke, but Roman missed you. He found his nights staring at your number, thumb hovering over the call button. He’d sent about a dozen texts since then, but none of them were replied to. Sure, the two of you had gotten into fights every now and then but they never lasted long.

And Roman was determined to get you to stop ignoring him.

When the door swung open, you peeked through, not at all ready yet for the party. Roman snickered upon seeing your eyeshadow only done on one eye, curlers in your hair.

“Looking hot, fuck-face,” he whistled. To his relief, your features softened, and you stepped to the side to let him amble in. Even in your current disheveled state, you knew he was telling the truth.

In truth, you’d missed him more than you could ever admit. It took a great deal of self-restraint not to reply to his strings of texts, especially once you were given time to cool off after what had transpired in the hotel bathroom. He was your Achilles’ heel, in a way.

“What do you want?” you asked, not even bothering to face him as you shut the door and made your way further into your home, standing in front of your mirror vanity to resume doing your makeup.

Roman watched your reflection in a near somber manner. “Well, I was just thinking, since we’re going to Kendall’s little birthday bash, we could go togeth—”

“No,” you found yourself saying without a second thought. “I can go myself.”

With a sigh, Roman stepped forward, leaning against your vanity so he could look at you instead of your reflection. “I just want to talk. This—whatever’s going on between us—it fucking sucks. I miss you.”

For a second, you let your eyes meet his. You didn’t say anything, simply carrying on with drawing your eyeliner.

“You’re not gonna say you miss me, too?”

“Of course I missed you, Rome.” There was a sort of bitterness to your words. “That doesn’t make me any less mad at you.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I went down the Mencken road. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. But, cross my heart and hope to die, I genuinely believe he can help us. And, like, what’s the worst he can do? Just because he becomes president doesn’t mean he can do fuck all. I’m just with him because we’d all benefit from him helping out the company.” He scratched the back of his head whilst giving you, as he would so eloquently put it, fucky eyes.

There was a long stretch of pregnant silence. You’d finally put down the eyeliner, shifting to stand directly in front of him, your chest brushing against his.

“What can I do?” he whispered. He couldn’t help it—his eyes were fixed on your lips, parted and glossed. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

You smelled so damn good too—Roman felt like he was going delirious. He chalked it up to not being around you for a long while. That was probably why. His hands reached out to rest over your hips.

“Not much you can do now. What’s done is done. Your dad settled on Mencken—there’s no changing his mind.” You tilted your head, so close now that your nose was brushing against his. He briefly wondered if you could feel the way his heart was slamming imprints against his ribs.

You were just a hair’s breadth away from kissing him. You were so fucking close—

Until you pulled away with a smug little grin, far enough so that his hands fell away from you, going right back to fixing up your makeup. “I can look past Mencken for now. Mostly because I can’t see someone like him actually winning the election. But I’m absolutely not saying that I’m with you on this. I’m just saying we can put aside our… differences. If he just so happens to win, I’m counting on you to have your hand up his ass, and my hand would be up yours. So we’re good, for now.”

“You fucking tease,” he grumbled, chuckling slightly. “What was that about your hand up my ass?”

“Awh,” you said in a mocking tone, one of your feet kicking up to knock against his shin. “Did you manage to get a hard on without me even touching you?”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. And no.”

He was lying. He definitely had an erection, and the both of you knew it.

“Did you want me to kiss you?” you asked abruptly, starting to pull out the curlers in your hair.

His mouth went slack. His mind was moving too fast for him to formulate any coherent sentences. Instead, he laughed a bit, before it tapered away awkwardly.

“Yeah?” he finally replied, more of a question than anything.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m sure,” he haughtily replied.

“Okay,” you said, though you didn’t look convinced. Another roller came out.

“Don’t believe me?” Roman placed his hands over your hips once more, and yanked you close. “I’ll kiss you right here, right now.”

A brilliant smile danced across your features. “That a promise, Romey?”

With that, Roman leaned forward and slotted his lips over yours. It was tentative and soft and—surprisingly sticky. Your lip gloss, he registered a second later, tasted like strawberries and honey. A content hum slipped from you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with just as much vigor. Your nose slanted against his, foreheads knocking together.

You were the one to pull away first, laughing lightly at his hooded eyes and the way he chased after your lips. A second bout of laughter overtook you when you saw the glossy, tinted smudges across his mouth.

Shoulders still shaking, you pulled out a makeup wipe and handed it over to him, silently gesturing to his lips.

“The color doesn’t suit you,” you rasped, though you kissed his cheek to leave a faint mark there, as well. “That’s a first for us, you know?”

“What?”

“Kissing.”

Roman looked at you strangely as he wiped away the remnants of your gloss. “We’ve kissed millions of times. Mostly you, because you’re obsessed with me.”

“Yeah, but… not like that. Mouth to mouth. It was always a line I didn’t wanna cross, you know?”

He toyed with a brush laying on your vanity. “Why not?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit more unsure. “You afraid I’m gonna give you cooties?”

“Well, because we’re…” You paused, gesturing between the two of you. “We’re friends. With occasional benefits, I guess. I didn’t know if you were okay with it.”

Lifting a shoulder, Roman offered you a smile. Friends didn’t sit quite right with him. Not anymore, at least. “Well now you know. You can kiss me all you want.”

You huffed in amusement, before pulling out the rest of the rollers in your hair. All you had left to do was put on your outfit, and you were good to go. You wondered if Kendall would be happy seeing his siblings at his party, when you knew for a fact that he hadn’t invited them.

“I’m gonna go change. You want me to help you out with that?” You looked down at his tented pants with a raised brow. “No blow jobs, though. Don’t wanna ruin my makeup.”

This time, Roman was the one that laughed, loud and chesty. He sucked on his teeth, as if debating his options.

“How much time do we have?” he asked.

You glanced over at a small clock hanging on the opposite side of the room. “We’ve got forty-five minutes, maybe? If we wanna get there before Matsson gets bored and leaves.”

Roman clapped his hands together. “Great! More than enough time.”

The two of you ended up fooling around for a bit longer than you’d anticipated—he’d humped your ass with you bent over your couch, then finished by jacking off onto your back. You were grateful that you hadn’t yet changed into your outfit for the party, having stayed in a comfortable white shirt that you shucked off and threw into the laundry bin.

To your surprise, he seemed earnest enough to want to try fingering you, and you shyly told him to go for it if he wanted. A permanent flush fixed over your cheeks as you gently guided him to do what felt best. His thumb over your clit, his fingers sheathed deep in your cunt. He was good at it, mostly because he was clinging onto your every plea like it was gospel. You came with a drawn-out moan and your teeth sinking into his shoulder.

You managed to squeeze in just one more handjob for him since he somehow got hard again while fingering you, whispering filthy nothings into his ear as he whined, eyes rolled into the back of his head. To your curious delight, you’d found that Roman really liked being called a good boy.

Only after all that did you manage to change into a semi-formal dress, touching up on your makeup since a lot of your lipstick had smudged onto Roman. In turn, Roman headed to the bathroom to wash up a bit, comb back his hair, some strands had come loose during your little excursions, and straightened out his suit.

“You ready?” you asked, peeking into the bathroom. The two of you were a bit later than you would’ve liked. “I want to make a stop at the corner store before the party.”

“What for?” he asked, curious.

“Last minute birthday gift,” you replied, hopping slightly as you strapped on your shoes. “Let’s go, Rome. You look hot, I promise.”

He smiled at your reflection, and took your outstretched hand.

Upon arriving at the large venue, the woman in front asked to take everybody’s coats and phones. To which, Roman told her, “Yeah, fuck off, I’m not doing that,” and walked right past her.

You gave her an apologetic smile, shedding your coat and handed it to her. “Sorry, I can’t hand you my phone. Company policy.”

With that, you jogged to catch up to Roman, chatting with Connor, who had also chosen to cling on tightly to his coat. Beneath it, you saw that one of his arms was in a sling.

“Oh, Con, what happened?” you asked, waving hello to Willa.

“Nothing, nothing. Just ranch stuff,” the older man replied, nonchalant.

Roman snorted. “What, a horse didn’t want you to fuck it?”

“He had a fall,” Willa said, and Connor immediately protested.

“You make it sound like I’m ninety years old. No, Maxim and I just got some polling results. We shared a Cognac, and then I slipped doing a little Irish jig.”

“Oh, okay. Ranch stuff. Got it,” quipped Roman.

You stopped in front of a tunnel-like entrance, the walls lined with soft pink.

“This feels disgustingly Kendall,” Shiv said, and the two of you laughed as you strolled in. “So… where’s Tabs, Rome? She busy?”

Arching a brow, you looked to Roman. You knew that his relationship with her had fizzled out, especially after the… corpse sex debacle.

“Yup,” Roman said, clearly not comfortable discussing it with her.

She grinned, snickering. “Again? Did you kill her?”

“We’re actually—we’re not really seeing each other anymore. She was just a bit boring. That’s all I’m saying,” Roman said. His eyes darted to you, and you offered him half a smile.

“Mmh, yeah. Because you find sexual intimacy boring, don’t you?” Shiv pressed, which made both you and Roman frown.

“As if you’re the catch,” Roman snapped back. “You’re more fucked up than me, you know! Seems like Y/N and I are nicer to each other than you are to your own husband.”

Shiv looked between the two of you, expression immediately souring. “You’re so fucking annoying,” she muttered, before turning to mutter something to Tom.

By the end of the pink tunnel, a woman dressed in a cartoonish nurse uniform greeted the group. “You’ve just been born into the world of Kendall Roy!” she announced.

“Oh, Jesus,” Shiv huffed.

Roman turned back to look at the pink tunnel. “Oh. So if we’ve just been born, then that must be mom’s…?” He shifted his weight back and forth by the exit. “You’re telling me I’m repeatedly entering my mom’s vagina right now?”

You snorted in amusement, nudging Shiv. “These your mom jokes just keep getting better.”

She hummed. “Cold and inhospitable. It seems to check out.”

“This is my mom’s cooch, just so you know,” Roman told the nurse. “And you’re implying that it’s massive, so, uh, might wanna get Kendall to see if you can tighten my mother’s vagina.”

The group shuffled off, leaving the poor nurse to gather her wits and greet the next few guests approaching.

“Where’s Matsson, you think?” Shiv asked.

“Probably standing in a corner somewhere, monitoring his biometrics from his watch,” Roman scoffed.

“Don’t you think we should find Kendall before trying to find Matsson?” you queried, looking around the crowded room in hopes of finding Kendall somewhere amidst the dancing throng. “I mean… it is his birthday party, after all.”

Nodding, Roman said, “Yeah, good thinking. Let’s just get it out of the way.”

Shiv managed to track down one of Kendall’s assistants, asking her where he’d be. She pointed up the stairs, where the VIP section was. Thanking her, the three of you made your way up the stairs whilst the rest of the group stayed down to mingle.

The second floor was a bit less packed, but there were still dozens upon dozens of famous figures mingling about. It wasn’t hard to find Kendall amongst them, sticking out like a sore thumb with a birthday crown perched on his head, laughing with his girlfriend, Naomi Pierce, by his side.

His eyes met his siblings’, and he scrambled to take the crown off, dropping it onto the nearest waiter’s tray.

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait a second. Who let you guys in? This is friends only!” he exclaimed.

Shiv made a pitying noise. “Awh. Shouldn’t it be empty, then?”

Roman cackled. “She beat me by one second.”

“Happy birthday, old man,” Shiv said, giving her older brother a sharp smile.

“Just to say, I’m only here because I heard there was going to be a five-dimensional catastrophe, and I want to watch you crash and burn,” Roman told him.

Features mellowing, Kendall stepped forward and spread his arms out wide to give Roman a hug, which he reciprocated with no complaint.

However, he did have to squeeze in, “Man, it even feels like you’re old. You sure you’re only forty? You look like shit.”

Despite his harsh words, Kendall pulled away with a genuine smile. He was happy that his siblings were here, even if he hadn’t invited them.

He hugged you next, and you reached up to kiss his cheek with a smile. “Hey, Kenny D. Happy birthday—I brought you a little present.” You reached into the cheap plastic bag from the corner store, brandishing a strawberry popsicle, still in its wrapper. “It’s probably a bit melted but if you popped it into the freezer for ten minutes or so, it should be good as new. Sorry it’s not much.”

Kendall’s expression seemed to soften, recalling how the two of you would always argue over the last remaining strawberry popsicle during the summers you were still little children. When you would grab it from the freezer before he could, he’d tug on your pigtails and call you mean as you denied ever taking them, and you’d hide the wrappers in Rome’s room so he’d never know it was you. But he could always tell from the sticky red on the corners of your mouth and your sugar-highs that seemed to last for a little too long.

“No, this is…” He took the popsicle from you, staring down at the wrapper. “This is perfect. Thank you. I really appreciate it, I do.”

You nodded, pointedly watching as he pocketed the popsicle. “No problem. I promise not to take this one from you.”

Kendall laughed, then looked to his brother and sister. “Really? No card? I’m disappointed.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t find one that said both ‘happy birthday’ and ‘get well soon’,” Shiv crooned. The smile on Kendall’s face faltered.

“Well, I’m glad you guys came. It says a lot,” he finally said.

“It was a ten minute drive,” Shiv deadpanned.

A part of you wondered why Shiv was being particularly brutal today, especially on Kendall’s birthday. Nonetheless, the two of them awkwardly hugged, Shiv patting her brother’s back a few times.

Connor and Willa ascended the stairs a few seconds later, waving hello. They greeted the birthday boy with hugs, and the smile returned back to Kendall’s face, though it wasn’t quite the same as before.

“So, what do you guys think? Sick party, right?” Kendall asked, arms spread.

Squinting, Roman glanced back downstairs. “It’s cool, but, uh, did you ask for Mummy’s permission to use her, uh… squatch?”

Kendall shook his head a bit, seeming puzzled. “What, from, like, a copyright perspective?”

“Well, it’s just, you know—call me old-fashioned, but I think you should ask before constructing a giant replica of someone’s vagina,” Roman off-handedly said.

“I’d definitely want to be informed before someone decides to make an artistic rendition of my privates,” you chimed in agreement.

“Duly noted,” Roman said in a faux British accent, and the two of you giggled under your breath like schoolgirls.

Kendall, miffed, nodded a few times. “Yeah, okay. Yeah. I can—I can send mom an email. But, relax, will you? Yes, Roman, you can take it home with you.”

Roman pumped a fist into the air at that, and you both burst into another round of giddy laughter.

Rolling her eyes, Shiv said, “Okay, so, tell us. Who else is here?”

Kendall made a show of looking around at the dozens of famous celebrities loitering around the VIP section. “Who isn’t?”

“Your dad,” Roman said.

“Your mom,” Shiv told him.

“Your wife,” Connor added.

“Your kids?” you put forth, more as a question than anything.

“Any real friends,” Roman chimed again.

With a smile, Shiv said, “I mean, business folks, sure. Stewy? Honestly, we could do with building some bridges. So, uh, Lawrence Yee? He here? Lukas Matsson?”

There it was. She name-dropped the golden goose.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re all here, somewhere,” Kendall assured, gesturing around vaguely. “I have something to show you guys, actually. Come on.”

The siblings and you followed him down a winding hallway, which gave way to black-out curtains, and past that, it seemed to be an art gallery of sorts.

“Hey, Dad wanted me to give this to you,” Roman said, handing Kendall the envelope. You eyed it warily, wondering how Kendall would react to the offer.

“What is it?” the older brother queried, shaking it lightly, as if expecting something inside to rattle.

A dismissive sort of smile fell over Roman’s face. “It’s, uh, an iTunes gift card and a couple of your baby teeth. It’s nice. We hope you like it.”

Kendall looked at you, silently asking for confirmation. You nodded, hesitant, but that seemed to satisfy him enough—he pocketed the envelope to open up for later.

“Okay, guys, let me show you some shit. C’mon.” He beckoned everyone into the art gallery, before spewing into a long tangent about all the people he had to collaborate with in order for things to work out.

Instead of paintings and sculptures, which you’d typically see hung up in galleries, there were newspaper articles and headlines plastered over the walls.

The Cincinnati Standard: Waystar Chairman, Kendall Roy Elected President of World Federation!

Boston Daily Express: Wife of Tom Wambsgans Arrested In Sweep of City Street-Walkers!

The Correspondent: Connor Roy Elected President [of shitting his bag]!

The NY Globe: Failed Youngest Roy Sibling Dies in Tragic Jerk-Off Accident!

Both you and Roman stopped to stand in front of his article. You shot him an amused glance. “Who were you jerking off to, do you think?”

“Don’t worry, fuck-face, there’s a lot of Roman to go around,” he said, leaning closer to read the smaller text.

Your grin grew wider, gesturing to the paper. “Not for long, according to this.”

“It’s not a bad way to go.” Roman bumped his shoulder into yours. “Yours is going to happen any day now, I can just feel it.”

Your brows raised, and you turned around, surprised to see your own article plastered large and tall right beside Connor’s.

New York Journalist: Disgraced CEO’s Goddaughter Kicked Out of Company—Adopted Into Communist Parties!

“Wow,” you breathed out. It wasn’t all that bad, really.

“You like it?” Kendall asked the two of you.

“You’ve got people in here picturing me jerking off, so who’s the real winner?” Roman sneered.

Shaking your head, you told Kendall, “I can’t even imagine why you’d have an entire room dedicated to this at your birthday party.”

“It’s—it’s unique. An extrapolation into the near future,” he said. “People dig it.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Roman replied, clapping his shoulder, before wandering off to read the other articles.

Connor threw a large fit about his article, unhappy with the way he was being portrayed as an unserious candidate.

“You did actually shit your bag, though,” Roman said. Kendall guffawed and the two brothers began laughing together, at Connor’s expense.

His scowl deepened. “Yeah, you know why? Because I took you two fucking assholes on a camping trip because Dad couldn’t be bothered! That’s why! I ate some bad fucking fish! This is bullshit, Kendall!” He yelled that last sentence, to which Kendall quickly reassured him that he’d have it taken down.

You remembered Roman telling you about the camping trip, the both of you only barely teenagers. It was harder then, being friends with them—boys were particularly mean at that age.

You remembered asking if you could come along. Kendall told you that it was a boys trip. Only boys were allowed, and you most certainly weren’t a boy.

You remembered Roman asking if you could somehow fit into the cooler so he could sneak you on the trip. Even now, you weren't quite sure if he was just joking or if he was being serious. Nonetheless, you pushed him away and told him to have fun sleeping on rocks and eating stale jerky that tasted like dirt. When you sniffled, Connor put a hand on your shoulder and told you that there’d be many more camping trips in the future. To your knowledge, they never went again.

“Alright, guys, I gotta circulate. Lots of people to talk to. We can check in later, yeah?” Kendall rubbed his hands together. You briefly realized that this was the first time you’d seen him genuinely happy in a long time.

“Yeah, yeah, you go on ahead,” Shiv said, urging him on.

“It’s a great night. I’m happy you guys are here. Fucking… best birthday ever.”

With that, Kendall hurried off. You and Roman exchanged glances, mirrors of pity and guilt.

Half an hour of asking around later, Shiv managed to snag down Matsson’s location in this never-ending venue of birthday bash.

“Don’t fuck this,” Shiv warned Roman, to which he rolled his eyes and gestured for her to lead the way.

The three of you traversed up a couple more flights of winding staircases, turning left into a massive hall, where a giant replica of a treehouse was erected, leading into what looked like another secret passageway. You narrowed your eyes, seeming to recognize the little carvings on the wood by the base of the tree. Younger Kendall often went into the yard whenever he was angry, whittling away his frustrations onto the bark. You and Roman used to play pretend that they were ancient runes when he wasn’t around to hear you.

“I think a forty year old man who rebuilt his childhood treehouse should immediately go on the sex offender registry,” Roman snidely commented, eyeing the massive structure.

Two burly guards blocked the entry way.

“We’re with Kendall,” you said as you tried to sidestep them, but one thrust his arm out in front of you.

“Do you have a rainbow band?” he gruffed.

Roman guffawed. “Yes. I’m a walking fucking rainbow band.”

It was then that Kendall’s head emerged from behind the guards, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, guys. You done downstairs?”

“Mhm. These guys aren’t letting us in. Ain’t that crazy?” Roman asked pointedly. “Do you mind if we took a gander around your mental disorder?”

Kendall laughed, though it sounded forced. “Hah. Yeah, good one. That’s funny, Rome.”

“So are you gonna let us in, or what?” Shiv butted in, clearly impatient.

“That’s, uh…” Kendall smiled, almost apologetic, almost triumphant. “That’s not possible.”

You tilted your head, wondering if Kendall somehow found out that the three of you were after Matsson. “Not possible? Why’s that?”

“You hiding something from us in there, Ken?” Roman jeered. “Nude selfies you don’t feel comfortable with showing? The angsty romantic poetry you wrote when you were seventeen?”

A frown flickered across his face. “Well, okay, the thing is—the treehouse is for cool people, and you guys… you guys aren’t cool. Sorry, Y/N. You know, I would’ve given you a band if they weren’t here with you.”

“I’m flattered,” you said in a flat tone.

“Wow. The coolest grown man’s treehouse I’ve seen in quite a while,” Shiv snippily retorted, which made Roman snicker.

Holding his hands out in a placating manner, Kendall told the three of you, “Okay, no, seriously guys. Sorry, but, like… all jokes aside, there’s actually a real issue here, and I need to be discreet, because there’s a lot of celebrities around, and if you guys were in the treehouse, it would be kinda—kinda wouldn’t feel like the treehouse, y’know?”

Shiv scoffed.

“You’re a nazi lover,” Kendall deadpanned, pointing at his sister. He jutted his finger to Roman, then you. “And you’re a nazi lover. And you’re heavily affiliated with them. Me, on the other hand, I’m a defender of liberal democracy.”

“Lovely. You afraid of getting canceled on Twitter, Kendall?” you asked, crossing your arms. You let the words spew out without really thinking over them. “Or are you scared to show all your ad-sponsored, money-grubbing buddies up there who kicked you to the ground and spat on your corpse? It’s not a good look, is it?”

Appearing crestfallen for a moment, Kendall shook his head. “You’re being—stop. I didn’t expect you to stoop down to their level, Y/N.”

“Jesus, are you going to let us in or not?” Roman huffed.

“What, to see Matsson?” Kendall finally asked.

There it was. He knew.

“That’s why you’re here. You’re trying to push a deal,” he muttered.

“Who fucking gives a shit?” Roman asked. “What’s the difference to you? I just want to talk to him.”

Shiv nodded. “You know what’ll happen if we do talk to him? Either we strike out with nothing, or we succeed, Waystar benefits, and your net worth goes up by several hundred million dollars.”

“You’re welcome,” retorted Roman.

“Okay, yeah, but I have to weigh that against the consideration that no losers allowed,” Kendall said, shrugging.

“God, you’re such a fucking child.” You rolled your eyes, the two other siblings following suit.

Trying to step up again, Roman said, “I’m going in. This is fucking stupid.”

Kendall grabbed at his brother’s shoulder, pulling him back, and turning him around to face away from the treehouse.

“Oh, my God. Did you see that? I just got moved.”

Roman tried again, and the two got into a catty, near indiscernible argument. Kendall pushed, and Roman stepped back, before leaning in again.

“You really gonna get so worked up over a treehouse?” Kendall hissed. “That’s fucking lame, man.”

Finally, Roman stepped away, his shoulder bumping into yours. “Fuck. Wow.”

“Don’t let these guys in. This is my treehouse, and they shouldn’t be here,” Kendall warned the guards, before slipping between them, making his way back into his treehouse. “Oh, and, thanks for the offer, guys. Great headfuck from Dad. Really fucking cool of you.”

You thought the buyout would be good for him. A naive part of you had even thought that he’d simply accept it with no complaint. Lord knew it was more than enough money to sustain him several lifetimes.

“Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable,” Roman groaned. “Now what?”

Curious, Shiv looked over at the two of you. “What was Ken talking about? What offer?”

You and Roman exchanged looks. “That was nothing,” Roman dismissively replied, shrugging. “It was just a little move to ease him out of the holding company.”

“What? And—you two didn’t think to tell me?” she just about snarled, brows drawing together.

“It’s just an offer, Shiv. You would’ve found out eventually,” you sighed, rubbing the spot between your brows, the beginnings of a headache starting to fight through.

“Whose name was on the paper?” she asked, head tilted.

“Mine,” Roman sighed. “It’s just a name, though. It’s nothing.”

“Okay, so why wasn’t I the name if it was fucking nothing?” she demanded. “Historically, who owns the fucking company has been of some interest. It’s not nothing.”

Tired of the conversation, Roman told her, “We handled it. You wanna figure out the financing, or something? It’s all there.”

A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Yeah, that’s fucking great. You guys are so adorable. Fuck you. Fuck this.”

She stormed off, heels clanging loudly against the staircases’ steps.

A few seconds of silence lapsed by before you reached out to take Roman’s arm. “You ready to go steal some rainbow bands?”

He used his free hand to cup your face and tug you closer, landing a loud, obnoxious kiss onto your cheek.

“I fucking love us,” he hummed.

The two of you began to walk around, eyeing all the guests who happened to have bracelets on.

“I do, too, Rome. I do, too.”

Eventually, the two of you managed to snag down a handsy couple who looked much too busy sucking off each others’ faces to care about their stupid rainbow bands. They handed it to you two with no question and you thanked them with a smile whilst Roman snidely told them to use protection. He was one to talk, really.

The guards also gave the two of you a lot of trouble, but after a bit of charm from your end and a bit of light threatening from Roman’s end, the two of you were finally in the damned treehouse.

“I’m scared we’re going to see detailed exhibits of Kendall’s sex life up there,” you uneasily said.

“Nah, I think I just saw Anne Hathaway passing by. No way Kendall would embarrass himself like that around this crowd,” Roman snorted. After a second, he tacked on, “But I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Almost at once, your eyes landed on Matsson, huddled up in a dingy corner and playing a shoddy tapping game on his phone. He looked next to miserable, utterly bored out of his mind.

“Bingo,” you whispered, nudging Roman with a grin.

Once the two of you approached him, his eyes didn’t even bother lifting from his screen. But his brows raised in acknowledgement upon hearing Roman’s voice.

“There you are, fucking hiding from us. You little sneak, you. Like a human VPN.” Roman took the seat adjacent to him, and you sat across from the two. “How you doing?”

A disgruntled noise fell from Matsson’s lips. “Eh. I’m alright. I’m just, uh… you know. You fill in the blanks.”

Your lips downturned slightly. You hadn’t spoken to Matsson personally before, but the two of you had gone to the same conferences before in the past—you were never overly fond of his character. Lazy, erratic, a pure dick-jerker. But you knew he was integral to hold up the company, so you swallowed any and all complaints you had about him.

“I hear you. Yeah. Fucking life, right?” Roman drawled in response, attempting and failing to mimic Matsson’s nonchalance.

“I just wanna find a good pussy and get out, you know?” Lukas muttered. For a brief moment, he looked away from his phone, to you. “You down?” he asked.

Rearing back in surprise, you briefly wondered if he was high on something. He probably was.

A nervous laugh slipped out of you, and you gave Roman a wide side-glare. “I’m not here to get laid.”

“Hm. Pity.” There was lust in his gaze, and you felt a wave of nausea roll over you.

To diffuse the tension, Roman quipped in a high voice, “Yeah, well—pussy’s great. Mhm. You see my mom’s at the front, there?”

Matsson snickered lowly. “Yeah. You seen my mom’s? It’s not… it’s not great.”

Roman laughed, and you begrudgingly cracked a smile at that, too.

“Wow. Yeah, sure, I’m not gonna delve too deep into that one.” Roman leaned forward. “Question—my old man got a little bit grumpy this morning, but you weren’t trying to humiliate him, right? I mean, fucking everyone says we’re the last big legacy content library, and you’re the last fucking super app streaming platform. We fit, obviously. Right?”

Finally, Matsson put his phone down to regard the two of you. He pulled a contemplative frown.

“People say we fit, yeah.”

You eyed Matsson warily, partially worried that he’d get bored of the two of you and go back to his phone. “You help prop us up, and we’ll turn GoJo into a gold mine. A tooth for a tooth.”

With guarded interest, Matsson sat up just a bit straighter. Instead of replying to you, he faced Roman and said, “She’s a bit… how do you get anything done with her around?”

An embarrassed, frustrated sort of flush heated your skin. It was beyond demeaning that he spoke to Roman as if you couldn’t hear everything he was saying. Was it because you were a woman? Because Matsson so clearly saw you as a piece of ass and nothing more?

Though Roman sent you an apologetic, slightly confused glance, he said, “Well, I don’t, really. But, uh, what are you thinking?”

Half of a shrug. “I mean, that’s great and everything, but I do have one small concern.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Roman asked.

“When will your father die?”

Roman’s brows flew up in shock. “When will… when will my father die?” he parroted, blinking himself out of his stupor. “Uh…”

The blonde man gestured vaguely towards him. “Like, I don’t wanna be rude, but—what kind of shape is he in? Are we talking less than a year or is it more like five years? ‘Cause if it’s five, that’s… that’s a long time. It would be better sooner, wouldn’t it?”

Roman broke out into a fit of laughter. A nervous habit, you knew.

“No, yeah, I’m laughing here, but, like—that is my dad, so, you know. Go easy there, tiger.”

Though you were well aware that Matsson clearly had a hard time speaking to you without getting a raging boner, you felt it important to voice, “Is Logan’s position on top a problem for you? For this deal?”

The corner of his lips twitched up when he spared you a look. “No, it’s just that I don’t like the idea of a man hanging over me. It’s not my world, media. Not my thing. But Logan’s death, it would… it would clear space.”

Clear space. How airily he threw about the term. A quick peek at Roman told you that he was just as uncomfortable as you were. He scratched the back of his head rather aggressively.

“Uh, I mean, we’re all obviously… hugely looking forward to my father dying,” Roman started, tapering off into a hum of forced laughter. “But, hear me out, there’d be another shape to this. How about you never ever have to speak to him? You could work out of Austin, Geneva, London, Stockholm, wherever. Totally separate corporate identities. And StarGo, we burn, obviously.”

This seemed to please Matsson immensely. It was no secret how shitty Waystar’s streaming platform was.

“Yes, yes. Please. Burn the codes and fucking acid bath those servers.”

Roman cracked a smile. “We can do that. We could do that together. I mean, GoJo, full bore. Our library, our firepower, our relationships for content. And, like, good shit. Not, like, gay moms and wheelchair kids liberal crap. Actual, popular, shit.”

A frown crossed your expression briefly. You never liked it when Roman got political. Nonetheless, you could see now that Lukas was listening intently to what the two of you had to offer.

“You won’t have to communicate with Logan whatsoever. None of your decisions would be intercepted by him—it’d be filtered through Roman, if need be. And, you know, if it’s beneficial for you, it’d be beneficial for us,” you told him firmly whilst maintaining eye contact. You wanted him to know that you were more than capable of holding your own.

It didn’t last long, however, because Matsson rolled his head back and blew out a sigh. “I hope you know that StarGo truly is a piece of shit.”

“It’s a huge piece of shit, yeah,” Roman agreed.

“I like to open it just to see how long it takes for the landing page to load,” Lukas said, lazily smiling. A quick glance in your direction, and he slapped at his knees. “Hey, Roman, you wanna go and take a piss on the app?”

A second’s pause. “What, like, literally?”

“Yeah.” Lukas got up to his feet.

Roman hastily stood as well, sending you an apprehensive look. “Yeah, okay, uh—” before he could finish, Matsson was already striding away.

God. You already couldn’t stand that man.

“Go,” you told Roman. “He thinks I’m distracting. I know. I’ll be around. You just go land a meeting with him, okay? Keep him interested.”

“Okay. Yeah. Are you—? Yeah, okay. You’re great, y’know? So fucking great.” Roman squeezed your shoulder once, before he shoved his hands into his pockets and jogged after Matsson, who was already halfway to the men’s bathroom.

A heavy pit sank to the bottom of your stomach. Everybody was dancing around you, the music pounding so loudly you could feel the base vibrating the ground. There was a distinct sting to the very top of your nose—a telltale sign that you were upset, even though you were doing your very best to push it down. It was times like these you hated being a woman working in an industry made for and surrounded by men.

With pursed lips, you got up to leave the treehouse, feeling incredibly out of place in there.

And so you wove through the crowds, until you saw Kendall walking down a hall with Naomi, his shoulders tensed.

“Hey, Kendall?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with him.

“What do you want?” he asked, bitter. “You wanna ask for a condom so you can go fuck Matsson in my treehouse? Sorry, I don’t have one.”

He did—he always kept one in his wallet, but you didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, no, Roman’s doing that already.” You fiddled with your hands and his eyes softened just a tad, drawing his own conclusions that you didn’t care to spell out. “Hey, uh, sorry, this is a really douche-y thing of me to ask, but… could I have the strawberry popsicle back?”

Dumbfounded, Kendall fixed you with an incredulous stare. “What?”

You cleared your throat nervously, feeling your nose begin to sting more. You weren’t quite sure if those were tears pricking your eyes, or if you were just tired. “I’ll get you another one, I promise.”

The wrapper was still sticking out of his pocket. Melted, you knew for a fact, but you didn’t care. You wanted it, and you wanted it now.

“What? But this—this is my gift. You said you wouldn’t take this one.”

You were being an asshole. You knew it, and he knew it. “Kendall, just—just fucking give it over. It’s a popsicle! I can get you a million others after this.”

Then, you tried to reach for it, but Kendall sidestepped away from you, bumping into Naomi.

“Yeah, but this one’s mine. You gave it to me. What is with you?”

Your lip warbled as you inhaled sharply. “Please? I just—I really need it right now.”

There was a momentary pause as Kendall looked down at the wrapper sticking out of his pocket. In all honesty, he’d forgotten it was even there until you brought it up.

“No,” he finally said. “There’s refreshments and desserts all over this fucking place. You don’t need it.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Fuck you,” you eventually mustered, tears welling up over your waterline.

A large part of Kendall felt guilty, but he consciously took a step back away from you. “I have to go. My kids gave me a present. Rabbit wrapping. I gotta find it.”

“Eat a dick, Kendall.”

With that, he left.

You harshly wiped away any lingering dampness that spilled over your cheeks and hurried away. As you rushed to get to the bar, you caught sight of Shiv wildly dancing in the middle of the crowd, feet bare and hair tousled.

It wasn’t long before Tom came to join you, seemingly in a glum mood himself. He was saying something about Greg and his new fixation on Kendall’s assistant, but you weren’t quite listening, merely nodding along at regular intervals.

About half an hour later, Roman finally appeared, grinning so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t split in two. By then, Shiv had joined you and Tom by the bar, breathless and cherry-cheeked.

“You okay?” Roman preened. “Onlookers reported you having some sort of breakdown. People were anxious that you might have swallowed your tongue.”

A frown crossed her lips. “I was dancing.”

“Hm. I heard it looked like a cry for help. That right, Y/N?” Roman casted a look in your direction, noting your glum atmosphere. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Before you could reply, Shiv shook her head. “Fuck you. Did you speak to Matsson?”

“I’m trying to console my friend here, Siobhan—”

“Did you speak to him?” she gritted out again, completely disregarding his initial rebuttal.

Rolling his eyes, Roman leaned against the bar, his arm brushing yours. “Yup. I spoke to him.”

“And?”

“Don’t worry about it, Shivvy. I’ll handle it,” he snidely remarked. His arm pressed firmer up against yours. In a lowered voice, he asked, “You sure you’re good? You look all—mopey dopey over here.”

You didn’t quite know how to explain to him that you and Kendall had gotten into a tiff over a stupid popsicle, and you were sick of being reduced to the pretty woman men couldn’t take seriously. Even if you had vocalized all that, a large part of you doubted that Roman would understand any of it. He’d look at you all guilty and puppy-eyed, one of the few ways he tried to convey sympathy, and you’d kiss his cheek and tell him it was fine. That was usually how things went between the two of you, anyway.

“No, seriously, Roman,” Shiv just about growled.

“I’m being serious,” he shot back, clearly growing agitated that Shiv just wouldn’t buzz off. And also because you weren’t talking to him, and the two of you knew well how terribly he coped with that. “I’ll talk to Dad and see if he wants to loop you in, okay?”

The aggravation written plainly over her features seemed to deepen. “Just fucking tell me! This is important, and I might need to finesse.”

“Oh, you need to finesse? That’s so kind of you to offer! But, uh, how would you finesse something that’s already done, exactly? By ruining it?” Roman jeered, crossing his arms. “Yeah, y’know what, I handled Matsson. I understand him. I’m not sure you do.”

You simply watched Shiv’s face cave in with unbridled frustration. In a way, you understood exactly how she was feeling. Though, you supposed you were more folded in than she was, given Roman’s trust in you.

“You know what, if you wanna show off to somebody, maybe show off to someone who gives a shit. Look—even Y/N doesn’t wanna hear about it!”

The two siblings looked at you, and you lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“If you landed it, that’s all I care to know,” you gently told Roman.

A nod, and a hum. “It’s all good. Matsson peed on my phone, but we got it. And listen, Shiv, you’re having a very bad day, I know that. What with hearing that you have to continue sharing an apartment with the old meat wardrobe, but, you know—try to keep your wig on.”

There was a certain fire to Shiv’s eyes, darting between the two of you angrily. “I’m the one in a functioning relationship. You guys are fucked up emotionally and using each other as crutches to feel better about yourselves.”

Now that… that struck a nerve. She was right, you knew it, but you never liked facing your and Roman’s codependency head-on. It was an uncomfortable truth that the two of you were quite comfortable not dwelling on.

“Oh, really?” Roman retorted. “I thought you were thinking about all the dick you were gonna ride while he was behind bars? Hm?”

“Oh, my fucking God,” Shiv hissed in incredulous disbelief. “You know what? Nobody likes talking about me fucking guys as much as you do. Why is that? Is that because you’re the COO who can’t fuck?”

This seemed to stun Roman into silence. His eyes flickered over to your silent form, staring down at your half-empty drink. Shiv caught the way he looked over at you, a cruel scoff hitching in her throat.

“Huh. Can’t even get it up for Y/N?”

A deep breath in, and Roman was quick to push the argument back onto Shiv. “Did you think Tom was going to go to jail?”

“No. I’m happy he’s not going.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are! You look really happy. Fucking rainbows and sunshine plastered all over you. Did you think he was, though? Just a smidge? Maybe Dad would go to jail, too? Oh, and maybe I’d go, too! And because Kendall’s all fucked up in the head, you’d… oh, you’d be able to sit on your little throne. It’d be all about you. You thought it was ladies’ night and they were playing your song, but guess what? You were wrong! All the men got together in the man club and we decided, sweetheart, everything’s fine, so just—”

A cord within you snapped.

“Roman,” you sternly barked out. “Shut the fuck up. We get it.”

“Don’t talk for me,” Shiv haughtily told you, before fixing her brother with a fiery glare. “He’s just using you as a messenger boy, but as usual, you’re too fucking dumb to see it.”

“Right. Mhm. It’s difficult for you, I know. It’s hard to have to do the dance for Dad because you just suck at dancing,” Roman sneered.

“You’re a piece of shit,” said Shiv.

Clearly on a roll, Roman just kept talking: “It turns out he loves it when I do the Daddy dance, but I guess that’s because he loves me.” He was feeding himself lies. Logan didn’t even have to do it anymore—Roman was desperate enough to believe it. “He loves fucking me, and he just doesn’t want to fuck you anymore.”

“What are you even talking about? You’re so fucking gross!” Shiv just about yelled.

The two fell into more bickering, but it faltered away when Kendall showed up out of nowhere. You glanced at his pocket—the popsicle wrapper was gone.

“Oh, shit. Look who it is! It’s birthday boy!” Roman greeted in a condescending manner.

Kendall looked upset—far more upset than when you’d confronted him about the popsicle.

“Neither of you should be here,” Kendall gruffly said. “You shouldn’t be at my fucking party.”

“Oh, God, you’re right. Someone call the cops. Intruders have breached the masturbatorium!” Laughing, Roman took your drink and finished what was left of it. You stared down at the empty glass with pursed lips.

Finally, you looked up at Kendall. “You find the rabbit wrapping?” you quietly asked him.

He didn’t answer your question. Instead, he stared at you for a moment before slowly saying, “I threw away the popsicle. Melted.”

That hurt a lot more than you would admit it did. “Oh,” was all you said.

Roman looked back and forth between the two of you, wondering what on earth he’d missed while he was up watching Matsson piss on his phone.

“You guys are full of shit,” Kendall said. “You came here to fuck me behind my back. You’re ghouls, and you’re disgusting.”

“Sorry. Whoops,” Roman replied, though he didn’t sound sorry at all.

Then, Kendall turned to call a few security guards lining the walls. “Can we get them out?”

“It’s a little late for that, buddy. I already spoke to Matsson. He hates you, by the way—laughs at you constantly,” Roman harshly quipped.

Shiv shook her head. “Just stop, Roman.”

“What? Go easy on the birthday boy?”

Stone-faced, Kendall stepped closer to his siblings. “Did you come here to see me at all? You didn’t, did you?”

Shiv spared him a sharp, unapologetic smile. “Well, we haven’t been getting along that great recently, so what do you think? You surprised?”

A mutter and a shake of his head. “GoJo was my idea,” Kendall said. “You stole my idea.”

Raising his brows, Roman jeered, “What are you, fucking six? Dude, you lost. No big deal, no need to cry about it.”

“None of it would matter if you bought out, Kendall,” you said, only barely loud enough for him to hear. “You don’t have to keep biting the hand that’s feeding you. The cage is open.”

A crackling silence. Kendall looked pained, for a second.

“You’re just a stuck-up cunt that can’t bear to see me win,” Roman said, deciding he wanted to have the final blow.

Kendall sized up to him, getting up close to his face. “You’re not a real person,” he said. “You know that? You’re not fucking real.”

Unflinching, Roman stared up at his brother. “Come on. Why don’t you hit me, maybe?”

“Rome—” you began, but he made a protesting noise.

“Come on, shitty Jesus! You know you want to. Just fucking hit me. Do it!”

Kendall watched his brother, eyes empty. Or full of despair. It was the same either way. With that, he stepped away and began to walk off.

“Ugh, look, I’m sorry, okay? Happy birthday—” Roman strode up to him and placed a hand on his back.

Accident or not, Roman pushed, and Kendall fell. He laughed, then apologized, then laughed again. Connor was there, all of a sudden, telling them to lay off each other.

All this time, you hadn’t moved a muscle. Maybe you were still mad about the popsicle. Maybe it was Matsson. Maybe it was the dysfunctional fucking family you were stuck in between.

Kendall forcefully yelled at Connor to take his coat off, and stormed off. Shiv left a few minutes later, mumbling out how much of an asshole they all were.

“I want to leave, Roman,” you told him, and his giggling subsided, finally.

“Oh, yeah—fuck, yeah. We did what we came here for. Let’s go.”

Down the stairs, out the vagina (or was it in?), and back into the real world. Roman was saying something, but your ears were buzzing with the aftershocks of the loud music.

You hadn’t even registered Roman telling the driver to fuck off, that he wanted to walk you home. Chivalry wasn’t dead, after all.

Once inside your house, you tugged your shoes off with a sigh and shed your clothes as soon as you stepped into your room. You just wanted to go to sleep.

Roman peeled off his suit jacket, before sitting down at the edge of your bed. “Hey, I have a proposition for you.”

At first, you genuinely believed that whatever he wanted to say was business-related. But upon looking at him, his dilated pupils, his mussed hair, his spread legs—his proposition was very obviously far from professional intent.

It was a distraction. A good one, one that you were more than willing to take. You clambered onto the bed, straddled his thighs and leaned over him, your nose brushing his.

“Yeah, Romeo?”

“Let’s have sex. Like, actual peen in vageen type of situation.”

You weren’t drunk, but you were tired, and yet you found yourself nodding with hooded eyes.

“You sure?” you whispered, low and raspy, as if you’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

High-pitched, he affirmed with, “Uh-huh.”

You brushed your lips over his, only barely there. Roman jerked forward to kiss you properly, but you leaned back. “Say it, Roman.”

He swallowed, throat bobbing. “I’m sure.”

With the green light, the two of you began to peel away the few remaining articles of clothing you had on, your mouths slanted hotly against one another as you ground over his growing erection. It wasn’t exactly a kiss—more like the two of you were just breathing each other in, sighs and pants and whimpers all.

His hands seemed unsure what to do. Clenching at the bedsheets, grazing over your side, groping at your bare breasts, pressed up against him. His mouth fell away from yours with a particularly loud whine, sinking lower to dig his teeth into your shoulder. You smelled like honey, but you didn’t taste like it. Saltier, more human. A breathless curse fell from his lips, muffled into your skin.

“Inside,” he pleaded. “Fuck, I need—please turn around—can I?”

It was hard to think straight when you could feel his dick twitching, the tip continuously brushing against your clit, sending electrifying jolts throughout your whole body. You hummed, rolling your hips over his one last time, before crawling off his lap towards the center of the bed, your back facing him. A part of you wondered if there was a reason why Roman wanted to fuck you in a less intimate position for your first time together. The other, more lust-addled part of you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Roman’s hands slipped over your waist, and he sank his throbbing cock into your slickened cunt with a pitching groan, tapering off into a whine.

“So fucking good, Rome,” you cried out once he began unevenly thrusting, pawing at your hips as he grew more desperate—close to his release even though he’d barely even begun.

The sex itself was—it was quick, to say the least. It was clumsy, as well—but he managed to reach over and rub tight circles over your clit, which elicited a choked cry from you. At one point, you swore you felt his lips on your back, but you couldn’t be certain.

When he came, fucking spurts of hot spend into you, you shuddered violently as your orgasm crashed not two seconds later, gasping into your sheets. He thrusted into you a few more times—he liked the overstimulation, your rumbling moans, the way his cum began to trickle down your thigh.

And, finally, he eased himself out, wincing as he sank into the spot beside you.

He panicked, just a little bit, when you pulled yourself away, getting onto your feet.

Noticing his jerky demeanor, you offered him a soft expression. “Bathroom,” you said as a form of explanation.

That made Roman relax a bit.

When you returned, you’d pulled on a comfortable white shirt, before slipping beneath the covers. The two of you laid together, staring at the ceiling, staring at each other, staring at your hands—intertwining together on top of the blanket.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, after ages of silence.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, molten brown downcast with shame.

“For what?”

A click of his tongue, a roll of his eyes. “For—for the shitty fucking sex.”

You barked out a laugh, and Roman appeared mildly offended.

“It was great, Ro. I actually came, which is more than what I can say for most people I’ve been with. Kudos to you,” you said, grinning cheekily.

“Really? It wasn’t too—was I—?”

“Roman. It was good,” you reassured, shifting closer so that you could press your nose to his cheek. “What do you want me to say? That I saw stars? My throat hurts from how much I screamed your name?”

This seemed to crack Roman’s insecure exterior, and he guffawed lightly. “You bitch. Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too.” Another moment of silence. You let go of his hand, watching him carefully. “Roman?”

“Mmh?”

“Did you fuck me to prove a point? Because of what… what Shiv said?”

The air crackled with uncertainty. Roman squinted at nothing in particular.

Eventually, Roman crooned, “You know I’ve been wanting to stick my dick in you ever since we hit our first fucking round of puberty. You know that, right? That means we were little baby teenagers and I was fucking—fantasizing about dicking you down when I should’ve been doing my homework.”

It felt like a weight lifted off your chest—a weight you hadn’t even known was there. “Ew, Roman. You’re gross.”

He groaned loudly, dramatically tossing an arm up to cover his eyes. “Don’t say that. I’ll get hard again.”

#roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfiction #roman roy smut #roman roy fluff #roman roy series #roman roy ff #roman roy angst #roman roy x you #roman roy fanfic #succession roman #succession roman x reader #roman roy #succession fanfiction #succession x reader #roman roy imagine

271 notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

Could you do a bully Jungkook? Similar to Tae’s with the reader, but more Yandere? Also maybe Jungkook gets a lil more violent and reader really likes it? Pls🥺🖤🖤🖤

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐫𝐭:

pairing: yandere bully! jungkook x f. reader

genre: non-idol au || smut || fluff maybe if you squint real hard || yandere au ||

summary: you; jungkook’s perfect work of art

word count: 6.8k

tags/ warnings: yandere! jungkook, jealous jk, he actually turned out way meaner than i’d meant for him to be :’), obsession, graphic mentions of murder, stalking, non consensual photography, jungkook can’t keep his hands to himself, multiple smut scenes that include: toys (vibrator), edging, hair pulling, cum denial, very very dub-con (reader never specifically gives consent), oral (m. receiving), facial, degradation, humiliation, but reader is really into it, her panties get all wet when he’s a little mean, pussy stepping, lots of love bites, teasing in public + public bathroom sex, mild breast play, panties in the mouth, ass and pussy spanking, unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), creampie, multiple orgasms, cum play, somnophilia, face slapping, fingers in vagina but not fingering, cum kink?

notes: yes! it’s uuhh a lot of smut :D if there are mistakes no there aren’t!

rules for requests can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Please Kookie” you mutter against Jungkook’s knee, cheek pressed against his legs as another wave of pleasure wracks through your body— your arms tightening around his calf. Each pulsing vibration from the toy nested between your walls pushing your hips forwards, panty clad cunt rubbing painfully against the wooden floor as you chase release.

Jungkook looks down at you from where he’s sat on the couch, what you can only describe as a sadistic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The lip ring you liked so much glistening pretty in the orange lamplight of the dimly lit living room of Jungkook’s apartment.

And you remember the day he’d walked into class, having not seen each other for a couple of days. You hadn’t been able to keep your eyes off his lips, and of course that gave Jungkook the perfect excuse to be a little mean; to fuck you like he had no regard for your own pleasure, and you remember how bruising the kiss had been. How the cool metal of his lip ring had glistened with both your saliva as he shoved his tongue into your mouth.

Jungkook pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, and you push yourself up from where you’d been kneeling to grab it. Because you knew what he planned to do, and the unnerving smile he was giving you did nothing to reassure the shake in your legs; having been edged for 2 hours you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

Something akin to a squeak slips off your tongue as Jungkook shoves your body to the ground, hand colliding with the top of your head until you’re carrying the weight of your body on your arms.

He wonders what expression you’re making. Were you glaring up at him for being an ass? Were you going to cry? He might let you have a taste of his cock if he were to see a few tears. Though he knows you’re not fond of him shoving his dick so far down your throat until your tapping his thighs to let you have a breather, gagging on his length until he shoots his load onto your tongue— watching as he makes you hold it until it’s dripping down your chin, soaking your tits in his release.

His eyes flit to your bare chest, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he eyes the hickeys that litter your body like you were his own personal canvas. Deep reds looking ever so pretty on your skin, like roses had bloomed under each mean nip of his teeth and tongue lathing your skin with his spit. Ruby roses that were complimented with a few more purple love bites where Jungkook just couldn’t help sinking his teeth into your plush skin; thighs so supple and alluring that he couldn’t help but bury his face between them.

“Don’t even fucking think about it” he sneers, and your thighs snap shut as he toys around with the vibrators settings from his phone. He watches as your mouth falls open, breathy moan being ripped from your throat, so close to relief only for Jungkook to stop the delicious pulse of pleasure.

Your body shakes, so close to such sweet release. You meet Jungkook’s gaze, bottom lip jutting out as you look up at him, eyebrows furrowing in the way he knows that your pretty little tears were on the way.

“Poor thing” he mocks, turning the toy back on, “Remember, no cumming”

“I can’t—“ you whine, hand flying between your legs, only pushing the vibrator deeper between your walls.

“That’s what you get for fucking ruining my pants with your drool. You’re gross you know that?” he laughs, “So cock drunk all the time, that’s all your dumb little brain can think of right? I don’t even know how you got into uni”

“M’ not gross, not dumb” you shudder, thighs clenched so tight you feel the vibration on your clit, dangerously teetering on the edge of your orgasm. Pearly tears gather on your waterline and Jungkook’s head tips back in a hearty groan.

“No?” he frowns and you would have believed the faux concern if it weren’t for the clear elation in his eyes, “Not my dumb little baby?”

You blink up at him, thigh twitching as he stops the vibrator, “No” you whisper, shaking your head slightly.

Jungkook laughs at you. A full belly laugh, scooting his body forwards towards the edge of the couch, balancing his elbows on his knees he bends down.

Neither of you say anything, you didn’t know what to say and Jungkook seemed to be figuring out what he wanted to do with you.

“Come here, pretty” he doesn’t give you time to respond, hand tangling in your hair as he tugs you across the floor between his thighs.

“Kookie, you know i don’t like—“ voice muffled by the hand that clamps over your mouth. Jungkook’s grip tightens on your hair, tugging your face closer to his cock, evident bulge in his sweatpants.

“Wanna make Kookie feel good, yeah?” he whispers, gentle kiss being placed over his hand where your lips would be.

His gaze meets your own, head tilting in question as you give him a curt nod. Heart squeezing in guilt at the thought of denying Jungkook the pleasure he so wanted.

“Good girl” he falls back on the couch, “come on then”

Your fingers clasp onto the waist band of his sweatpants, watching as he wets his lips; heady gaze set on your face as you free his cock from the confines of his underwear. You swallow thickly, breath shuddering as you watch the girthy length slap lewdly against Jungkook’s stomach; pearly bead of precum soaking into the fabric of his hoodie.

“We don’t have all day” Jungkook grunts, watching your mouth fall open as he presses a foot against your covered pussy; your hips canting forwards— rutting against the heel of his foot.

“You really are like a dumb fucking puppy” Jungkook laughs, hands finding their favourite place to be; tangled in your hair as he guides your face towards his cock.

You kiss the tip before Jungkook pries your lips open, uncaring if you were ready or not as he pushes your head down his length until the head of his length pushes into your throat.

You splutter, throat constricting around the head of Jungkook’s length; though he doesn’t mind, head tipping back as a jolt of pleasure wracks through his body.

You swallow, rewarded with a groan from Jungkook but you don’t have long to bask in the fact that you’d been the one to pull that out of him as his fingers tighten their hold, squeak of pain muffled around Jungkook’s length as he pulls your head up— tip remaining heavy on your tongue.

Your saliva drips down his length, your hands running down his cock before he’s shoving your head back down.

Jungkook thrusts up into your mouth, head fallen against the back of the couch as he pushes his length down your throat. “My little cocksleeve” he moans, particularly hard thrust causing you to gag around him.

“Gonna cum all over your face, don’t deserve it in that greedy little pussy” he rolls his hips, thighs tensing as your fingers dig into the thick muscle.

He looks down at you when he hears a snivel, watching as pretty little tears cascade down your cheeks like precious little diamonds.

“You don’t like that do you?” he snickers, shoving your head until your lips close around the hilt of his dick, drool dripping down to his balls. He feels your tongue lave up his length, cheeks hollowing as you try and pull an orgasm out of him.

“Want me to cum in your cunt, doll?” he asks, grip so tight in your hair that you find it hard to nod around his length, “No?” he taunts, watching as another wave of tears tumble down your cheeks.

He pulls your mouth from his length, free hand tugging on his spit slicked cock.

“Open your mouth” He yanks your hair so your head tilts up, cocky smile tugging at the corners of his lips when your tongue falls out of your mouth.

He runs his hand up his length once more before he’s painting your face white, most falls over your forehead, whine of annoyance bubbling up your throat as he slaps his softening cock over your tongue. You lick your lips, tasting his cum as you use your fingers to gather a glop of his seed, sucking it off them as he tucks his cock back into his sweats.

“Let’s go eat” Jungkook stands up, raising an eyebrow as you remain half naked on his living room floor.

Your fingers skim over your neck, “Can I at least cover your hickeys up, it looks like i’ve been mauled” you push yourself to stand, legs a little shaky, and you feel the ache of not having your own orgasm as you find yourself in the large mirror on the adjacent side of the room.

“Does it look like I care? Hurry up before I leave you here” he tuts, grabbing his jacket from the the door, “I’ll fucking pay, just hurry up”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You and Jungkook had met at the start of uni. Both attending the same art and design class, he’d been a year older— taking a year out after high school to explore himself more before he dedicated the next 3 years to his academics again. Developing his own art style and dabbling in photography, though he always knew he wanted to go down the design route.

You’d both gone out for drinks with your new little lecture group after the introduction day, a way for you all to get to know each other better, as you’ll be spending then next few years in one another’s company.

You don’t remember much from that night, a few too many shots of alcohol you’d never heard the name of being sent to your table that you have no idea how you even made it back to your uni accommodation. Waking up with a splitting headache and a dead phone, you’d asked one of the girls you’d gotten close with if maybe she’d walked home with you, though she seemed just as clueless as you did.

And you never felt comfortable enough around the rest of the class to ask if they knew how you’d managed to get home safe so late on a Friday night.

It hadn’t been until the first assignment was given that you and Jungkook had started talking.

You knew of his name, a mutual friend of you both, the one girl you’d connected best with during the first few classes, who had the biggest crush on him. Blabbing about him all the time when the two of you would go out for lunch before class.

Though you’d never actually spoken to the man. He seemed polite, curious in a way you found cute and he asked all the same questions you had so you never had to work up the nerve to ask in front of your small group of call mates either. There were only 6 of you in the class, all a lot older than you, your friend and Jungkook. And maybe that’s why you hadn’t formed much of a connection with them.

Your first assignment had been the perfect excuse for your new friend to spend the afternoon with her new crush, inviting him along with you to a museum where you’d be looking for a specific artist to study.

The issue was, she was prone to being late. You’d been stood outside the museum by yourself, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, chatter muffled as you pay attention to the museums website— working out a floor plan so you could all make it round the exhibits before the place closed in a few hours.

You hadn’t noticed Jungkook wander up the stairs, eyes raking over your body.

You looked so pretty, stood there in the cutest little skirt he’d ever seen— it would be ever so easy to just flip it over your hips, and ever so easy to slip your panties to the side and make everyone stood outside the museum watch him pound into your tight little cunt.

He wonders how long it would take him to make you his. He’d had his eyes on you the minute you’d crept into the art studio a couple of weeks ago. Each day between classes feeling like too much time away from you that he started getting to see you in other ways.

It had started with him following you back to your uni accommodation, simply checking you were okay on your way home after class. Camera zoomed in just enough that he was able to catch the passcode into your building.

Taking your picture had become his favourite hobby. Watching you just live day to day. Photos of you in the supermarket, the fruit vibrant but you stood out the most, so effortlessly ethereal that he didn’t know if he wanted to crawl into your skin or keep you as his pretty little pet that he showed off to the world.

He liked taking pictures of you when you visited the pool, it had taken hours before you’d been comfortable enough to shuck off the large shirt, the cutest little two piece he’d ever seen hugging your body so effortlessly, those pictures being kept in a special folder for when his cock strained in his pants and he needed a quick release.

Photos had turned into daydreams. He wonders what you’d sound like, body caged with his own, painted red by his mouth as he sucks his claim into your skin.

Your body the perfect canvas for him to explore.

He’d learn every crevice of your body. Worship each inch of skin that he could get his lips on before fucking you like nothing more than a common whore who needed to learn their place. Oh the joy it would bring him, luring such a delicate, pretty little thing into his hold before breaking you down.

He wonders if you like it rough. If you’d let him chuck you over his lap as he slaps both your ass cheeks. You wouldn’t have done anything wrong, too pure and perfect to be his little brat. But he’d spank you anyways, maybe going as far to spank your needy cunt as well until you came from that alone.

His fantasies were endless as he watched over you.

Jungkook shoves your shoulders, your eyes widening in shock as you stumble forwards.

Your head whips around, meeting Jungkook’s cheeky grin. You open your mouth, only choosing to close it when you realise you didn’t know what to say to him.

“Where’s your friend?” he asks, watching you shrug.

“Not sure. She’s usually late” you give him a half-hearted smile.

“I don’t think we’ve probably introduced ourselves” he rocks on his feet, “I’m Jungkook” he outstretches his hand, ready for you to shake.

You look at it for a second, “I know. I’m Y/n” you take his hand, eyebrows furrowing at his harsh grip. You go to pull your hand away, Jungkook holding it a little longer than necessary, your fingers going lax in his grip. And you release a breath you never knew you were holding when he finally lets go.

“Sorry I’m late!” your friend calls out, and you thank your lucky stars that she’d shown up. Jungkook’s whole aura seeming to brighten as he gives her an easy smile.

“It’s fine” he waves her off, “Ready to go inside?”

You trail behind the two of them as they wander towards the entrance. You tug on the hem of your friend’s jumper, frown tugging at your lips as she looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What?” she whispers, and you swallow thickly at her tone.

“I thought we could go upstairs first, they have some work by—“

“No” she cuts you off, “Let’s just go this way” she shrugs your fingers off her jumper, turning towards Jungkook who simply looks between the two of you.

“Sorry, she can be a little bit of a control freak sometimes” she giggles, so sweet that it tastes tangy on your tongue— off remark itching at your brain the wrong way. Though you say nothing. What could you do? Accuse her of being weird in-front of Jungkook— surely he’d think you were just causing a scene.

You stay quite after that, watching as your friend completely ignores your existence. Hands running over Jungkook’s arm, deprecating comments pointed in your direction when she thinks you’re out of ear shot.

You choose to ignore her, deciding that maybe you needed a new friend if this was how she was going to act around you.

It had been hard, moving away from home alone, not knowing anyone in the course you were taking— she’d been your little escape. An easy friend who didn’t seem to mind that you were a little awkward socially, though her comments to Jungkook seemed to depict another picture.

At some point you’d lost the two of them. Wandering around the exhibits you had wanted to see before you’s followed the two of them round like a lost puppy, acting like a third wheel when the two of them hadn’t had more than a few conversations before today.

You let out what can only be described as a squeak when a heavy hand falls on your shoulder.

You look behind you, head tilting up to meet Jungkook’s hard gaze. You blink, heart still hammering against your rib cage from the little scare he’d given you.

“Naughty thing, wandering out of my sight” he places his other hand on your shoulder.

You swallow, “Sorry?” is all you manage before Jungkook is tugging you into his chest.

One of his arms snake around your shoulders, holding you in place as his other hand wanders down your body.

“Where’s—“ you’re cut off by Jungkook’s fingers deftly pressing against your panty covered clit, your thighs twitching as Jungkook kicks your legs open a little wider.

“Did I say you could wander off?” he rests his cheek against the top of your head.

You hesitantly shake your head, mind racing a mile a minute as you try and catch up with what was happening.

You’d just met Jungkook formally, mind reeling at how familiar he was acting.

Your hand shoots to cover your mouth as Jungkook’s hand rains down a slap over your covered cunt. Your free hand shoots to grab his wrist, aware he was planning to unleash another mean slap against your pussy.

“Jungkook?” you whisper, aware that other people may start to wander into this part of the exhibit any moment.

“hmm?” he hums, arm moving to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” your voice quivers, fingers loosening their grip on his wrist as he leans down, lips skimming against the sensitive skin of your neck.

Your breath stutters as you feel his teeth graze the skin at the back of your shoulder, pulling your jumper down just enough to expose your bare skin, his for the taking.

He notices the lack of bra, deep groan rumbling through his chest as you feel the vibration against your back.

Your mouth tips open as he leave a wet kiss against your skin, hand that had been holding your face slowly trailing down your body until it toys with the hem of your jumper. Cold fingers grazing the slither of skin on show before they’re gliding over your bare stomach, prickly goosebumps left in the wake of his hands.

You feel the tips of his fingers brush the underside of your boob, gently tracing the curve as his tongue peeks out— tasting your skin.

You cover your mouth with your hand, thighs clenching shut as he runs a finger over your covered folds. You feel his teeth nip at your shoulder, muffled whine vibrating into your palm as Jungkook pinches one of your nipples.

With one last mean slap to your cunt, resulting in a soft moan from you, Jungkook steps away from you. Hands retreating from under your shirt, leaving you cold— yearning for his warmth as you try and fall back into his chest. Only to be met with thin air.

“Remember” he starts, causing your head to snap towards where he stands, by your side with nothing more than an inch of space between you, “No more running out of my sight. Got it?”

Your eyes flit across his side profile, eyebrow piercing catching the fluorescent lights of the open hall, glinting like a little speck of star dust on his face. You blink slowly, mind slowly processing his words, and maybe if you had the confidence you’d have told him to fuck off.

But you don’t.

Because his tone was final. You gathered that much and you weren’t stupid enough to try and aggravate him.

“Got it?” he repeats, head turning towards you. Your eyes meet, throat dry as you nod, eyes locked on the abyss in his almost black eyes— an endless pool of nothing that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. What lay beyond, you’re unsure; but if you knew anything, it was that Jungkook was trouble.

“Good” he hums, turning back to the painting before the both of you.

“Ah!” your friends shrill voice cuts off the silence, shattering the tense atmosphere, and suddenly your mind was clouded with annoyance rather than the chill of Jungkook’s cold stare, “There you are”

She completely ignores you, skipping towards Jungkook’s side.

“Must have wandered off without realising. I found Y/n though” he grins, turning towards you. You who can only manage a tight lipped smile towards your friend.

“I see” she murmurs, eyes trailing towards the slowly growing purple mark on the back of your shoulder— Jungkook having left the neckline askew when he’d back away from you.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend” she comments and your eyes widen.

“I don’t?” your eyebrows furrow, unaware of where she could have gotten that assumption from.

“Didn’t think you were one for hook ups then” he giggles, “That’s a little whorish, don’t you think?”

She looks up at Jungkook, as if asking for some sick approval from him. She doesn’t seem to notice how his jaw tightens. And neither do you, too busy trying to get a look at the hickey on the back of your shoulder.

Your cheeks flush red as you gather it was Jungkook’s doing, and you feel some sort of relief your friend wasn’t a mind-reader. She’d be absolutely crushed if she found out the boy she really liked had been giving you hickeys in the abstract art exhibit; especially since she’d been the one to ask him to join the two of you.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Jungkook had walked you back to your accommodation that day, your friend living in the quarters across the street from you, though Jungkook had had to go another way home after making sure you were safely inside your building to the displeasure of your friend.

You didn’t have his number, so you hadn’t been able to thank him over text. Instead choosing to stop by a convenience store on the way to class a few days later, a small gesture of thanks that you hoped he appreciated. He hadn’t said thank you, but he hadn’t exactly being rude and pushed you away either so you took it as a win.

Your friend hadn’t shown up to lecture that day. And although it had become common habit for a lot of your classmates to start skipping, she’d made it a point that she wouldn’t miss a day if it meant she could see Jungkook’s handsome face.

You’d texted her after class, hoping maybe she was just sick and you could fill her in on what she’d missed; though it hadn’t been much. Only a reminder that your first graded assignment was due in a couple of weeks where media selection was important along with the format of your work.

The walk back to your room hadn’t been pleasant. Lurking shadows following you like the plague. It was strange that even with what you assume to be hundreds of people mindlessly roaming the streets, you could feel a pair of eyes following your ever move. Every corner you turned, unease would trickle down your spine.

You’d been surprised when you’d gotten back to your room, two police officers stood outside your door. And you think maybe your heart stops beating, clawing it’s way up your throat as they ask to escort you to the nearby station for questioning.

Something about your friend. You hadn’t been able to hear exactly what they needed, voices garbled like they were underwater as you’d just dumbly nodded as their lips moved— letting them lead you to the flashy police car parked down the road.

You turn towards Jungkook as he takes a seat beside you in the police station. Your fingers fidget with the hem of your sweater, leg bouncing anxiously as you both wait for an assigned officer to come into the questioning room.

It was cold. Mostly made of concrete and if it weren’t for the little red light blinking in the corner of the room, you might have started balling your eyes by now. Anxiety spiking as seconds feel as though they stretch on for hours.

Jungkook’s hand is heavy as he places it over your thigh, “Fucking annoying” he grunt and you whisper an apology, back straightening as the door opens.

“Ah you’re both here” the officer takes a seat, manilla folder dropped onto the table between the three of you.

You’re blinking up at the officer and next thing you know your face is being pushed into the mirror of the police station’s bathrooms.

Jungkook careless as he tugs your pants down your thighs, hands roaming over your ass cheeks.

“Jungkook?” you ask, unsure exactly how you’d gotten here. The last hour nothing more than a swirl of colours that may have been mesmerising if they had been on a canvas, but it had only thrown you off balance and now you find yourself alone; with Jungkook again.

“Gonna make you feel better, baby. She wasn’t worth your time anyways, probably better off dead than spewing shit like she was the other day” he runs a hand over your cunt, easy smile on his face as he feels them dampen under his touch.

“I don’t think—“ you’re cut off as he presses down on your clit. Pressure just right that you feel numbing pleasure crawl down your body until you’re leaking another wad of slick into your underwear.

“Shhh” he hushes, “Kookie’s gonna make both of us feel real good, got it?” he asks, wet kiss being pressed over the fading love bite as your nod. A little too dazed with the added pressure on your clit to fully understand what he could be implying.

He thinks you look prettiest like this, eyes red and face a little blotchy, though he thinks you’d wasted your tears of a entitled piece of shit that clearly didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut.

So Jungkook did the only reasonable thing he could think to do. And he thinks maybe her shrill cries were a tiny bit more bearable than her grating voice.

It had been amusing, watching her face twist in an unexplainable amount of pain. Bones treated like twigs under his boot as he mercilessly crushed them into fine powder, stained red with her own blood.

Jungkook fingers hook into the waste band of your panties, uncaring as he rips them from your hips. Your mouth falls open in protest only the next moment you’re gagging on them as he shoves them inside your mouth.

“Whores don’t need to talk” he grunts, pushing his own sweats down around his ankles.

Jungkook doesn’t bother fingering you open before he’s pushing in raw, head tipping backwards as your walls pull him in. He thinks he can cum from this alone; your walls rhythmically clenching around his length as he slowly pushes into you. Basking in the soft warmth.

His pelvis meets your ass, hips circling slowly as your fingers grasp the edge of the counter.

Your eyes brim with tears at the stretch, thighs barely keeping you up, and if it weren’t for the harsh grip Jungkook had on your hips you doubted you’d be able to stand alone.

And all Jungkook can think about is how pretty you’ll be, hand-shaped bruises on your hips and pussy painted white with his cum.

He doesn’t give you any sort of warning before he’s pulling out, head still nestled between your walls before he’s snapping his hips forward.

He briefly wonders if everyone outside can hear the lewd squelch of your cunt creaming around his cock, folds creamy white each time he pulls out only to punch back into you.

You drool around your panties, moans muffled by cotton. Plush clouds muffling your ears of Jungkook’s unabashed moans as you feel yourself slowly climb towards your peak.

Jungkook never lets up on his thrusts, hand travelling from your hips up your body until he’s pushing you flat against the counter from the back of your neck.

Your hips start to feel sore as they bash against the marble counter with each thrust into you, Jungkook making sure he’s balls deep inside of you.

It’s when a finger starts to draw tight circles on your clit, Jungkook has to wrap an arm around your waist as to not have you topple over onto the grimy floor.

“Cum for me” he grunts, thrusts turning jittery as he slowly reaches his own end.

Your eyes flit up to get a look at yourself in the mirror, face a little flushed, hips red from Jungkook’s hands. Those same hands that flick at your clit, unrelenting as he continues to snap his hips into you.

Your eyes squeeze shut, thighs starting to shake as you reach your peek. Orgasm wracking through your body in heavy waves as Jungkook pushes you through it. Hips continuing to smack against your ass.

His fingers stop flicking at your clit when you start to snivel, bordering overstimulation as his cock twitches between your sodden walls.

Your breath hitches when you feel his warm cum flood your insides, painting you his from the inside. You feel each spurt of cum as he gives you another shallow thrust, pushing it further into your soiled pussy before he’s pulling out.

Your body shakes in the aftershock of your orgasm, fingers prying your ruined underwear from between your lips as you watch Jungkook pull his sweats back up from around his ankles.

You feel his cum dribbles out of your hole, thick globs of white painting your thighs as Jungkook runs his hands over your ass.

You watch him raise his hand, hearing it before you feel the prickly pain sear across your skin from the impact of his hand.

“See you in a few days” he waves over his shoulder before stalking across the bathroom, unlocking the door and leaving you to slouch against the counter.

You watch the door click shut through the mirror. Heart rate turning mellow as your body starts to calm down.

You reach back, fingers gathering up Jungkook’s cum onto your fingers before you’re shoving them into your mouth.

You make eye contact with yourself in the mirror, wobbly smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you let the feeling of being used and left sink in.

And the fucked up thing was, you liked it.

Arousal starting to seep out of your cunt at the thought of Jungkook fucking you like his own personal fleshlight in the dingy police station bathrooms.

Your hand flies between your legs, holding it over your pussy as your thighs clench— clit pulsing in need, that you start to rut against the palm of your hand until you’re shaking with another orgasm.

You push whatever was left of Jungkook’s seed back into you, hole clenching to keep any more from leaking out of you as you shakily stand, trying to fix your hair a little in the mirror before you’re tugging your pants back up your legs; panties long forgotten in the trash.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You saw a lot more of Jungkook after that.

He’d joined the textiles club your professor had suggested to the class at the start of the semester. Work desk conveniently shared with you.

He’d started dragging you along with him and his group of friends when they’d go out on Fridays.

A new restaurant each week.

All of his friends were nice.

Too nice in Jungkook’s opinion.

He hadn’t liked it when Hoseok had started being a little too touchy. Hands gently brushing over your shoulders, hugs whenever he pleased. And Jungkook had finally lost it when he’d arrived a little late one evening, stumbling in on the scene of Hoseok feeding you.

Jungkook had seen red.

And so he painted an abandoned warehouse walls with Hoseok’s blood until he was begging for mercy. Only Jungkook had never been one to forgive an forget— making sure to kick Hoseok’s face in, the man unrecognisable before he’d finished him off.

Jungkook didn’t like the way Jimin and Taehyung liked to take you out to galleries on the weekends. They weren’t even fucking art students why would they care? And he absolutely hated that neither of them even thought to invite him along. And so he had to trail behind, making sure neither of them touched you.

He hadn’t been too happy when the both of them had held your hands.

So he cut them off, gagging them with their own filthy fingers so he wouldn’t have to listen to them scream as he played with their bodies a little. Practice for any future projects.

Jungkook didn’t like that Yoongi sat so close to you at meal times. That was Jungkook’s seat and no one else’s.

Yoongi suffered a similar fate to Hoseok, only Jungkook made sure that this time Yoongi felt the pain of being a whore.

Jungkook hated that Namjoon talked to you. He hated that the two of you could talk for hours and Jungkook would just have to sit and listen, left out when he should be the only one to hear your sweet little voice. The perfect melody.

So naturally, Jungkook skinned Namjoon.

Jungkook despised that Jin even had the guts to even look at you.

So he gutted him alive and fed his organs to the strays that lived on the outskirts of the city.

Slowly, you were back to just Jungkook.

Jungkook’s pretty little doll.

Neither of you ate out at restaurants anymore, apparently exiled from the old group according to Jungkook.

Two strays left to bask in one another’s company. Two outcasts that had nothing but each other.

You spent most of your time at Jungkook’s apartment. Shirt tugged over your head the moment the door to his apartment closed.

Thrown over his bed as you lay in nothing but your underwear. Your body littered with teeth marks, reds blossoming over your chest like the flowers he kept on the window sills. Littered anywhere his mouth deemed fit.

Your own body moulded into his own canvas.

You’d lay there, eyes blinking open sleepily as you’d hear the camera shutter. Jungkook’s face covered as your eyes squeeze shut at the flash.

You weren’t sure how long you’ve known Jungkook. Every day just slowly melting in one as you wake up, go to class together, go home together.

You lived more at Jungkook’s apartment than you did your uni place. Unsure when so many of your clothes had mixed with Jungkook’s in his closet.

Most mornings you woke up with Jungkook buried within you, hard cock nestled so far between your walls that all you can do is lay there. Hands gripping onto his biceps as he rocks into you.

You always try your best to keep his cum plugged inside of you on those days, something so… deliciously wrong about feeling what Jungkook had left behind inside you all day.

“Are you fucking stupid” your head jerks to the right as he lands a harsh slap on your cheek.

“No” you whisper, thighs clenching and Jungkook laughs.

“You’re fucked up you know that?” he sneers, pulling your face until his lips brush over your own, “Getting your panties wet because I’m a little rough with you”

“S’ not wet” you try to argue but both you and Jungkook know it’s a lie.

“No?” he asks, and you shake your head. “So if I did this it wouldn’t feel good?” he presses his foot between your thighs.

You go to close your legs, stopping when Jungkook tuts. You look up at him, unsure what to do as he runs his foot over your covered cunt.

“Get yourself off then” he grunts, and your hips roll upwards, clit nudging against the heel of his foot.

You rut your hips upwards, a lick of shame fizzling down your spine as you realise you’re getting yourself off against Jungkook’s foot, on his kitchen floor.

Your hands grab onto one of your bare breasts, grasp harsh as your hips continue to roll upwards. Chasing a release that was so close.

You feel Jungkook’s eyes on you, a high pitched moan tumbling off your tongue as you reach your peak. Arms shaking as you feel pleasure pulse throughout your body.

“Dumb little girl” Jungkook coos, dropping to the floor on his knees.

You fall flat against the tiles, letting Jungkook spread your thighs, pushing his sweats down just enough for him to pull his cock out.

He pulls your panties down your thighs, thrown somewhere on the floor for you to pick up later.

Your hips cant upwards when he runs the head of his length through your slit; gathering your arousal before he’s dragging it down his length.

You lay still as he breaches your entrance, dribble of your cum dripping to the floor as he bottoms out.

It’s not often Jungkook allows you to adjust, though it seems he wants to feel your warm walls as he barely pulls out before thrusting gently back into you.

“Faster Kookie” you whine, fingers gently circling your clit.

Jungkook scoffs, “You really are fucking stupid if you think you’re allowed to tell me what to do”

Jungkook towers over you, hands bracing himself on each side of your head before he pulls his hips backwards, breath being punched out of you as he snaps his hips forwards.

You’re pushed up the tile floor with each thrust, whiny little ‘ahs’ falling in quick succession, your hands having no where to hold but your own tits that bounced with each harsh thrust.

“Fucking fast enough for you?” Jungkook grunts, arms steady as he bends to brush his lips against the clear skin of your collar bone.

You know what’s coming before Jungkook bites down into your skin. Your arms wrap around his neck, thighs clamping around his hips as he continues to drill into you; his moans rivalled by the squelching of your cunt.

You feel your slick dribble out of your hole each time Jungkook thrusts into you, you’re arousal wetting his balls as they slap against your ass.

“Gonna cum” he grunts, tongue licking over the fresh set of teeth marks just under your collarbones.

Your walls clench around him as you approach your own release, tipping so fast over the edge you see white when he tugs harshly at your hair.

You’re unsure how long you’re out of it for, Jungkook’s groans still muffled like cotton candy had been stuffed into your ears. Your cunt hyperaware of each sloppy thrust Jungkook takes, twitch evident before you feel him flood your insides.

You think you tumble into a third orgasm as you feel Jungkook fill you with his cum. So much that it starts to leak out of you when he pulls out slowly.

You feel tears brim your eyes as you feel rivulets of his and your cum seep out of you when he pulls out fully. Your fingers quick to stuff the concoction back into your tight pussy as Jungkook takes a heaving breath.

Jungkook doesn’t mind you as you lay on the floor with three fingers stuff inside your pussy. Rummaging around for his camera somewhere in the living room.

He pries your fingers away from your hole, not without complaint from you. Pearly little tears glazing your cheeks clear as he spreads your legs. Messy folds the perfect picture.

He lets you stuff your fingers back into your hole once he’s done, stepping over you as he starts to prepare dinner.

And later he’d print out his new photos, an empty page perfect for his new additions.

Every page filled with you over the years that he’s loved you; his perfect work of art.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #taehyung #yoongi fic #bts #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts yandere #yandere jungkook #bts non idol au #bts requests #bts au

1K notes · View notes

flokali · 2 years

Note

Oh my oh my~ That smut of Acoylote Diluc eating reader is such 😩👌 Now I wanna see part 2 where reader allows Diluc to ravish her. Although I feel like Diluc would be one of the people who would have a breeding kink and someone who would make sure to kiss and suck on reader's skin (including the chest)

warnings: afab reader, yandere diluc, bottom reader/top diluc, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, lots of talks of cum, marking, diluc is kind of pathetic ngl, dom & pervy reader, ask to tag!

Combined this w/ another ask hehe;; hope you don’t mind; anyway!! Big Brain Anon! Diluc sooo would do this *bark bark*

+17 UTC

While it was true your open door policy was always in motion, there were times you’d be too tired or busy to allow it – an announcement would be made, your throne room was not to be entered by anyone other than yourself and whomever you choose.

Tonight, it just so happened to be Diluc.

The red head who’d just finished cumming himself silly and was now taking his clothes off at your request.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” you coo, fingers wrapping around his trembling hands, he was struggling trying to unclasp all of his clasps, “let me help you.”

With skilled fingers you quickly help him get rid of his pants and lower garment, allowing him the dignity (or lack thereof) of keeping his shirt on, soon after you make sure to move your dress aside allowing him access to your cunt. Practiced digits make way to part your lower lips, a soft laugh escaped your lips at the way his red eyes widened in arousal at the sight.

You both don’t say much as he approaches you, dick in hand while he slowly corners you into your chair. The atmosphere is tense yet lewd, perhaps it was the place, perhaps it was your partner, but there was something particularly arousing about the situation that had you leaking ever so slightly into the plushness of the cushion. Eventually you both find yourselves mere inches away from each other, his nose bumps against yours, any possible awkwardness fades as you take his hand in yours, allowing him to focus on you rather than any worry that may be floating around that handsome head of his.

Diluc takes a deep breath before using his free hand to align his cock against your entrance, your breath hitches as the tip grinds against your cunt. He was beautiful, reddish cock sprung nicely against his pale skin, thick and leaking, your mouth watered as you caught sight on the prominent vein that laid on his side, the tip flushed a bright pink; it was a sight that had you lewdly grinding against the tip, anxiously waiting for him to fully delve into you.

“I’m putting it in,” he mumbles, eyes fixated on where your bodies would soon meet, “… tell me if it’s too much.”

And then he slowly begins shoving his dick in your pussy, inch by inch you’re forced to feel yourself stretch out to accommodate his large size. He wasn’t big enough for it to be painful, but there was a pleasant sting, it all had you throwing your head back against the headrest and moaning loudly as you felt him finally bottom out; you two stay like that as your bodies become used to the new feelings.

“Diluc, you can move now.” You command after some time, you let your arms circle around his shoulders to pull his body closer to yours, to let him know you were serious, you use your hips to grind, letting slick sounds resonate around the room.

“R-right…” He answers, allowing himself a few seconds before starting to rock his hips in and out of you, “O-oh… ha-ah!”

It doesn’t take long before something almost primal overtakes Diluc, a need- you could say. He’s soon almost pistoling his length into your cunt, rocking not only the two of you but the throne itself too; soon enough, moans were bouncing off the marble walls and pillars accompanied by a symphony of lewd sounds of love making and fluids running wild.

“Di-iluc! Please, o-oh my!” You could feel his fingers abusing your clit, calloused and warm, bringing you further on edge.

Your partner was quieter, letting out deep growls and low moans the more he felt you tighten around him, you’d almost question if he was okay if it weren’t for the absolute beastly pace he had set for you two.

His lips find your skin, he starts by slowly and passionately kissing your body, allowing his hands to drift around before he’s softly nibbling on you. Leaving a mix of open mouth kisses, licks, and bites; Diluc can’t seem to keep his mouth to himself as he alternates between soft and loving to deep and uncontrollable love making.

Your cunt was spasming, your liquids were flowing freely from your hole to the cushion to the floor and the precum that Diluc was producing was probably not helping the scene. Your legs were now lifted in the air as the Ragnvindr heir propped himself on his knee on your seat, an alleged holy place you two had officially defiled beyond belief, his balls kept hitting your ass as he thrust his length into you chasing both of your highs.

He was getting close, you could tell as such as he manhandled you further, but words were clearly failing the both of you, or so you thought until your fucked out brain finally made out words from the thoughtless declarations of love and obsession that had previously been leaving Diluc’s lips between kisses and licks.

“N-need to-oh… need to come in you, ple-please-e.”

“… d-do it, Diluc!” You moan, something inside your belly tightening and finally bringing you to orgasm as you hear him confess to his thoughts.

At your words, Diluc almost rips your dress off before almost rabidly making out with your chest, his previous ministrations were nothing compared to the way he was biting, kissing, and licking all over your tits, it was as if a switch had been flipped at your approval, as if he’d been waiting his whole life to be able to stuff your pussy full of seed. Soon enough, hot, stuffy cum filled your cunt up until you felt it leaking out.

He continues rocking his hips, allowing his dick to be completely milked dry by your hole, both of your breaths are heavy and thick as you both try to recompose yourselves.

“L-Let’s stay like this, yeah?” You heave out, you were tired and hot and Diluc’s dick was warm and you doubted either of you wanted to pull away from one another’s body.

“Of course,” he smiles softly, “allow me to readjust our positions.”

He doesn’t really allow you much time to answer before he’s lifting your limp body up and sitting you down on his cock more comfortably, allowing himself to take a seat on your usual spot, dick still erect as he uses it as a plug to ensure none of his seed leaks out of your hole.

The steady beating of his heart against your ear slowly lulls you into a deep sleep, with your cunt already being worn out and having felt already quite tired, you allow yourself to entrust your safety to Diluc.

Diluc who can’t help the way his head spins at the thought of your cunnie being filled to the brim with his cum, Diluc who can’t help the intrusive thoughts of your round belly with his child; because what better way to claim what you can’t have but by them having your offspring.

#๋࣭. hidden devotee #๋࣭. shino’s offerings #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc #yandere diluc ragnvindr #diluc smut #diluc ragnivindr smut #diluc x reader #sagau #genshin diluc

1K notes · View notes

nevernotswagging · 1 year

Text

Tokyo Revenger Boys and Head

Includes: Mikey, Draken, Hanma,

Warnings: NSFW, oral (male receiving) dirty talk, degrading kink.

Mikey:

-> If that’s what you insist who is Mikey to restrict you of your own needs.

-> Man’s will gladly shove his pants down without sparing any other thoughts.

-> And yes you have had to stop him from freeing the ween out in public.

-> Asks you to give him head under the table during a private Toman meeting with all the division captains.

-> I feel like Mikey would request for you to suck his dick in the most random scenarios.

-> Tells you about all his fantasies

-> Mikey’s a ‘You like that?’ Kind of guy, don’t bother arguing with me.

-> he’s also 100% a kiss and tell kind of guy so best believe his whole friend group has heard part of what goes on in the bedroom. That’s if they chose to listen.

Mikey’s hooded eyes followed your every movement as you bobbed your head up and down. His hands were at his side gripping onto whatever he could get a grip on.

He’d occasionally thrust himself into your mouth. Letting out a muffled “you like that?” Whenever you would moan against his cock.

He absolutely adored the way you sucked his dick with so much passion, the way you would roll your eyes back and allow him to use and abuse your throat.

Draken:

-> As much as he loves your lips around him, he hates making you give him head all the time.

-> He knows that he’s not small.

-> He tries to hold himself back from his own urges but the second you start pleading for his dick in your mouth he immediately folds.

-> You honestly fuel his ego whenever you suck his dick just because you can’t take the whole thing.

-> I feel like most of the time Draken is very soft and caring when your giving him head, unless you request for otherwise.

-> He’d caress your cheek lovingly and brush your hair out of your face whenever it would fall.

Draken smiled lovingly down at you when he saw that you were staring up at him through your eyelashes. “Doing good, Love.” The way he’d run his fingers through your hair soothed you but also turned you on when he’d occasionally tug on your hair.

He watched intently at the way you tried to force the whole of him down your throat with fail but nevertheless he was happy with the pleasure that he was experiencing. “We’ll ease you into taking all of me one day, don’t worry.”

Hanma:

-> If you didn’t like sucking dick before meeting him then you better get used to this because he would pull you into the other room just to get himself off.

-> And this is almost a daily occurrence. At least he expects it to be a daily occurrence.

-> He loves spending time with you, more specifically when his dick is shoved down your throat.

-> ‘I knew I made a good choice by picking you’ he’d groan when you leaned over to whisper in his ear how you wanted to slurp him up.

-> He’s a head pusher, it’s practically his last name. ‘What’s the matter?’ He’d ask teasingly while wiping away your tears.

-> And, ‘You look so pretty with your mouth stuffed.’

“Could you be anymore pathetic?” Hanma chuckled at the way that you whined against his dick. He was supposed to be in a meeting right now but the way that you pushed yourself against him told him exactly what you were thinking. “You just love the thought of everyone knowing what dirty things your doing their boss, don’t you?”

Hanma groaned at the sound of you gagging as he held your head down to take all of him. “Fuuuck!” He dragged out. “Those motherfuckers wish they were me.”

448 notes · View notes

violetsaffron5 · 1 year

Text

Infinity

12 | Skyline

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Recovering from the mishap that was your last mission, you and Satoru have a heart to heart on his infinity over the Tokyo skyline

words: 4119

cw: vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, face-slapping, breeding, creampie, feelings

an: getting close to the end of the story!

After collapsing in Gojo’s arms he took you to Shoko immediately. She was able to mend you enough to keep you alive, but unable to fully heal you due to the extent of your wounds and having other sorcerers she needed to heal and check in on, Nanami included.

Turns out, in a crisis, you likely could drain a sorcerer to death. Luckily Satoru arrived in time and was able to get you to stop draining Nanami before it came to that.

You slept for the first few days in the infirmary, barely stirring, barely waking enough to eat. When you finally came to, Shoko left you with the instructions to take things slow, let your body try to heal naturally, choosing her next words very carefully as she looked between you and Satoru:

“No fucking. At least until we know you’re truly fully healed.”

To which you replied “not gonna be an issue,” because you’re still hurt and upset with him.

Except it’s going to be a real fucking issue because he’s insisted you stay at his place, until Shoko signs off on your recovery.

Satoru thought you would try to make the argument that you need to feed to heal and that would be your quickest road to recovery, but you accepted the doctors orders without complaint to his annoyance. He wants it to be an issue, selfishly, which is partially why he wants you stay at his place until Shoko signs off on your recovery.

He knows you’re still mad at him, haven’t forgiven him, but that’s to be expected since you haven’t given him the time of day to explain, even after almost two weeks of essentially living together.

There’s a glint in your eye, the same one he saw that first night at the strip club. You’re hungry and your body is straining against itself wanting to heal but you won't let yourself cross that line.

With him at least.

But when Nanami comes over to check in on you, you’re all “I’m so sorry if I hurt you,” and “please let me make it up to you,” with a warm smile that you aren’t showing to Satoru, beckoning Nanami to spend time with you on the terrace away from Satoru’s watchful gaze.

“You and Nanami seem to be getting closer. What’s that about?” Satoru asks, hands shoved in his pockets, overlooking the darkened horizon, lights from the city shining from below, jaw feathering in anticipation of your answer. Truly unsure if he wants to know.

Satoru insisted you spend time with him tonight, told you he had something special planned as he wrapped his arm around your waist to your annoyance but quickly clinging to him for dear life when you saw you were floating above Shibuya.

“What?” You ask incredulously, brows knitted together as you look up at him, legs dangling over a ledge he created with his Infinity.

He saw the way your lips moved seamlessly with Nanami’s, the way you pulled yourselves in closer to one another. What he’s unsure of is if something started between the two of you without him realizing and that’s why you were looking for any and every reason to distance yourself from him over the last several weeks.

Satoru never cared if one of the women he’s hooked up with would turn around and hook up with Suguru the next day or even in the same night. But it’s different with you. You give him a look and all his blood goes straight to his dick. He doesn’t like seeing the smile you give to others, the way you’re so keen on ditching him to be with anyone else.

When you’re around, you’re the only thing he’s able to see. A shining star in this dark, gruesome life he has to live.

“Just seems like you’re pretty comfortable-”

“Can you just stop with the jealousy act? It’s getting old. Besides, you don’t get to ask me that when you’ve been running around with every woman in the city!”

Satoru’s taken aback by your sudden outburst, watching as tears prick the corner of your eyes. This is the most you’ve spoken to him in a single sitting, having just provided him with basic yes and no answers or just flat out ignoring him and walking away.

“I’m not running around with anyone.”

“Then what are you doing when you’re ‘meeting with the higher ups’?” Your tone is a mixture of sarcasm laced with annoyance, “Because from what I hear, you use that as your excuse to sneak off with random women.”

“Who the fuck did you hear that from?”

“Just… a rumor I heard, and it doesn't seem to be wrong since we ran into that woman you were clearly hooking up with when we went shopping.”

Closing his eyes, Satoru takes a deep breath before furrowing his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose, keeping his voice calm and collected.

“I went out with her once, we didn’t hook up. You’re trying to make it sound like I’m with a different woman every night. But that’s not possible is it? Because I spend the majority of my time with you.”

Your eyes meet Satoru’s and he can see the hurt in them as they flicker across his face, looking for your own answers on his sincerity. You must find what you’re looking for because after a few minutes of looking him over, you take your own deep breath before looking back over the skyline of the city.

“Nanami and I aren’t hooking up. He’s great, and I think he deserves all the happiness in the world, but we’re just friends.”

Satoru nods, accepting your answer before laying flat on his back, arms folded behind his heads, watching the stars twinkle and shine with an unimpeded view of them. You decide to join him, laying close in a similar position as he taps his foot into yours.

He tells you how he killed Toji after he assassinated a girl Satoru and Suguru were to protect before going on to assassinate Satoru as well. He also tells you about how after it happened, he rose like Jesus in flesh, high off his own power rambling about how he alone is the honored one.

“Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t mine, not in the way you’re thinking” Satoru states, he sees you shift, back straightening at their name before looking over at him from the corner of his eyes, “they’re Toji’s, but he didn’t want his kids to be bought by the Zenin’s when he died. The Gojo’s and Zenin’s hate each other, so I took their future strongest member. They’re better off with me than they are with the clan.”

“So,” Satoru slaps his hands on his thighs as he sits up, “we good now?”

He turns to you, watching the way you take a deep breath and purse your lips into a thin line, nodding your head slowly. It’s quiet for several minutes as you think about his words, think about why he doesn’t want it to get out that he’s taking care of these two kids, and you understand why he didn’t tell you about them. He sees the guilt cross your face, eyes saddened at the way you jumped to conclusions without letting him explain for so long.

“You know, you made an impression on me when we first met?”

“Oh yeah?” He’s amused, you can hear the grin on his face without turning to see it.

“Mhm, I was- I don’t know, I was drawn to you and when you left I was -”

“So incredibly horny?” You roll your eyes, smiling and bumping shoulders with him as he grins, watching the way you look up at the night sky.

He finds he likes having someone to come home to, so to speak. Having someone to spend his evenings with. Sure, there’s Suguru, and they’re best friends, he obviously enjoys hanging out with him too, but it’s different when it’s with you.

He looks at you with a small heartfelt smile, before looking back to the sky, watching the stars. He moves a hand from under his head, letting it find yours, intertwining your fingers.

“What are you thinking about?” Satoru asks as you sit back up, letting your legs dangle over the ledge he created with his infinity, watching the way the lights bounce and move in the city below.

He sits behind you, legs on either side, dangling off the ledge as well, his arms are wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder. Taking a deep breath, you feel your body relax to his touch for the first time in weeks, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Wondering when I’m going to get answers about what I am, I guess. Thinking I'm in over my head, sometimes wondering if moving here was the right call.”

It’s easier to admit tonight, after he’s been more open with you than ever before. Easier to admit when it’s just the two of you, tucked away in the night sky, out of the lights and into the darkness near the stars.

He sighs, “I’ve been looking for answers, but haven’t found any yet. Wanted you to focus on training, so I’ve been telling you I meet with the higher ups when I’m searching, because I haven’t wanted to get your hopes up. That or I hang out with the kids.”

You crane your neck, eyes flickering between his to see if it’s the truth. You find nothing but sincerity in his starry eyes. Sincerity and maybe a little too much passion as he watches your reaction.

It’s quiet for a while after that, you look out to the Tokyo skyline taking in his words, he looks at you, and he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. Pretty sure he’s been in love with you for a long time, actually.

You were always there, in the back of his mind, and he let some small part of himself hope he’d see you again one day. He didn’t really think much of it until Shoko asked why he’s able to remember your name, but not some girl he had just hooked up with.

He’d been with girls that were halfway memorable, some he couldn’t remember their name right after they told him, either way he’d block them after their night together. But not you. The two of you only met once, and he thought you were insane - the way you watched him kill a curse, no questions asked and then went walking around eating ice cream in New York, like you were on a fucking date.

He knew, before walking into the strip club that you had followed him to Japan, remembers how awful it was that you sat on Nanami’s lap, not his. How annoying it was at first when all he wanted to do was text you in the middle of the day when he sees something he thinks you’ll like.

And then he’s grinning again, lips ghosting your neck under your ear, chuckling at the way you squirm between his legs.

“You could quit Jujutsu,” he murmurs, hot breath tickling your ear, “sit at home, wait for me to come home and fuck your brains out so I can forget all the shit I have to deal with every day.”

“Satoru, the higher ups would have me executed, you know that.” You’re trying to steel yourself, not let him affect you so much - that’s been part of your training with him right? Ignore the distractions. But you can never ignore it when it’s him, so you’re leaning further into him, cocking your head to the side giving him better access to leave several kisses below your ear.

“They wouldn’t dare touch you,” his hands are in your hair, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth. He always tastes like spearmint when he kisses you.

You sigh a deep heavy breath breaking the kiss before he has a chance to deepen it; he runs his nose along yours and you smile before standing, clearing your throat.

“So, tell me how this works.”

He watches you, confused, amused; a little annoyed he doesn't have you flat on your back right now, but you’re curious. You just learned more about him than anyone has in a long, long time and now you want to see how far you can push him. See how much of himself he’s willing to give.

“What do you want to know?”

“Mmm. Can people see us?”

He walks towards you, hands in his pocket, a smile on his face. “I can do a lot of things, but invisibility isn’t one of them.”

Satoru does explain the ins and outs of his technique, what he’s able to do, how he’s able to warp and hold the two of you on his infinity. He says you can take off your shoes and sprint away from him, both you and your shoes will still hold.

You’re staring at him, squinting, challenging him, planning to run off like he suggested. He stands, hands in his pocket, that same beautiful smirk plastered on his face as he lets his infinity under you drop.

It was only for a moment, enough to have your eyes wide and yelping, hands reaching out to him to try and grab the nearest thing to you to stop the fall. He laughs loudly as you glare up at him, it was barely an inch but it was enough to have your heart beating so hard it feels like it’s going to pound out of your chest.

He grabs your hand and pulls you into him, wrapping his free hand around your waist and watching your flickering eyes. He rubs circles on the small of your back, your breaths mixing and mingling with one another.

Satoru opens his mouth to say something but your lips are on his before the words are out; he’s kissing back, all teeth and tongue as he’s gripping your waist roughly, possessively, before lifting you by the backs of your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

You’re expecting him to warp you back to his place, tie you up and fuck you senseless on his bed, maybe even the couch or his kitchen island. Instead, your back is hitting the hard surface of his infinity with a thump and he’s crawling on top of you, lifting your shirt over your chest so he can kiss and suck your tits.

It’s moving fast, passionate, a much needed release between two people who have been mad at each other over the last few weeks, afraid you were going to lose the other. You briefly wonder if you should heed Shoko’s suggestion, wait to have sex until she gives you the okay.

But Satoru’s unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down over your legs as he kisses a trail from the valley of your chest to the apex of your thighs.

Fuck it, you’ll make sure you’re healed while fucking him.

You’re removing your shirt as he undresses himself; you throw your clothes haphazardly onto his infinity nearby as he mumbles something about grabbing them later when you leave before he grabs a handful of your ass and pulls you into him.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watch as his head of snowy white hair dips between your thighs, leaving a kiss on each one before pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your pussy, licking between your folds, avoiding your clit at all costs.

“Satoru, please,” you’re whining, breathy and eager, just the way you know he likes, but still, he doesn’t give in. He watches you, crystalline eyes shining in the lights as he licks over your clit with such a feather light touch it has you twitching under him like never before.

A pathetic, needy whine leaves your lips as you buck your hips against his tongue, searching for anything to give you more stimulation where he’s neglecting you. There’s a low rumble from between your legs, sending vibrations to your core as he watches the way you helplessly rut against his tongue.

You know why he’s doing this, why he’s teasing you this way. It’s his own twisted form of punishment for not letting him explain, not speaking to him and for avoiding him.

And also because he’s an asshole.

Which he proves further by tracing one small, light singular circle on your clit with his tongue, smiling against you as you writhe against him, hand in his hair tugging as hard as you can.

“Please, pleaseplease, Satoru, please,” you’re begging with no hope of ever finding your release, but he laughs again, his own patience wearing thin with his antics as he begins to draw dizzying patterns across your clit, slipping a finger between your folds, pumping in and out.

“So wet,” he purrs, watching the way your chest moves with each breathy moan you exhale, “always so good for me.”

He slips another finger in, curling them at just the right angle, hitting the spot that always makes you cum in a matter of moments. Your eyes are closed, rutting your hips in time with his hand, his tongue still assaulting your clit. You’re not watching him, but you can feel his gaze on you, watching every micro-expression written across your face.

His hand on your hip shifts you to a slightly better angle for him, hands still on his hair clutching hard, holding him close as if he would ever let you fall.

And then you’re gushing onto his hands and tongue before you even had a chance to consider telling him, he’s lapping, sucking and moaning through your release as if he was the one who was just being teased to no end.

He doesn’t bother wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he kisses a line from your pussy to your mouth, only stopping in between to suck and nip at each nipple, pinching and tweaking them between his fingers as he slides his hard length against your entrance.

Satoru gives hot, searing kisses where you can taste yourself on his tongue as he grabs onto your waist, pulling you closer into him.

“You’re everything to me,” he groans, pressing his rock hard length against you, teasing as he lets the blunt tip make contact with your sensitive clit causing you to gasp out each time it happens.

“Only got so jealous cause -nnngh fuck-,” he’s slamming into you, in a surprising move where you’re left gasping and he lets out a shaky breath, “cause of how much I like you-”

Satoru isn’t an easy man to surprise, but you manage it when the palm of your hand connects with his cheek in a resounding slap. The pent up frustration you’ve held onto over the course of the last few weeks bubbling over as he rambles out his admission.

He looks at you, wide eyed and mouth agape, his own shock genuine and then his lips are on yours before you’re able to mumble out an apology.

You mewl, as his nails dig into the plush skin of your thighs, brain foggy with lust as his teeth dig into the side of your neck, your nails claw into his back, almost hard enough to draw blood as you scratch down from his shoulders.

“Satoru,” you moan, back arching up to meet his chest, his hard body, pressed against your softer one, “harder, please.”

He obliges, fucks into you harder and faster than ever before, has you reaching your peak quicker than ever before too.

“You’re so pretty when you cum.” He says, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, walls fluttering around his cock, the lights from the city below surrounding your body, in a soft glow, you look heavenly, ethereal, and he can’t get enough of you.

Your moans are loud, but it doesn’t matter, this high in the sky, nobody can hear a sound you’re making. He’s leaning up, watching where you’re connected, moaning at the sight, “so fucking tight, this pussy was fucking made for me. You’re so perfect for me.”

When his lips connect to yours in a series of searing kisses, you push him onto his back, climbing on top, slowly sinking down on his cock. He watches with a grin as you place your hands on his chest, bouncing up and down slowly.

But he’s not one to be teased, especially tonight, rocking his hips in time with yours, he sits up, hand on your cheek and your throat.

“Just wanted me to be jealous didn’t you?” He groans, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth, “that’s why you wanted to go off trying to fuck someone else and kiss my friends, huh?”

You slap him again and this time he moans, whether he meant to or not, before your hand is on his jaw, pulling him into you. Tongues gliding together in wet messy kisses before pulling away, a trail of energy flowing between you.

You watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head, back arched - his hard chest pressing against your soft tits as he lets out a sinful moan. It’s truly a sight to behold, skin glistening with sweat, shining in the light from the stars from above.

As soon as he recovers, you’re on your back again, his arms around your waist, lifting you into the most severe arch you’ve ever been in as he continues to mercilessly pound into your cunt, tip of his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust.

“Satoru, put a baby in me,” you whine deliriously and his hips immediately falter.

“Fuck, you want me to?” He takes a deep strained breath, “c'mere, c'mere -fuck just like that.”

Satoru can use his infinity in amazing ways, you’ve learned tonight, as he lays you flat on your back again, using his infinity to hold your wrists above your head, locking them together, the force from his ability holding your knees down by your head.

You can’t feel the cold from this high up, the realization that not only has he restrained your arms and legs with his technique while being so absolutely lost inside you, he’s also had his infinity around you the entire time protecting you from the weather, just serves to prove how much more impressive he is than you could have ever imagined.

His forearms are planted next to your head, giving him the support he needs to snap his hips into yours with reckless abandon before he’s lost himself in pleasure, thrusts turning deep, needy and sloppy.

“You’re gonna be so full of me,” he’s babbling, licking a strip from your neck to jaw, “everyone’s gonna know you’re mine, baby. Say it.”

You’re putty in his hands, at the sight of his eyes blown with lust, the pad of his thumb as he encircles your clit in time with each of his rough thrusts, the way he’s biting his lip trying not to cum at the beautiful sight of you below him.

“S-S’toru, I’m-” you whimper, “fuck- I’m yours, I’m gonna-”

Your eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent screen as wave after wave of pleasure hits you. He grabs your jaw, mouth lolled open and spits into it. You wait for him to tell you to swallow because you know he likes that.

“Fuck- fuck, fuck,” he whines, cheeks pinked, lips parted, hands cemented on your hips, holding you in close as his release floods your pussy, gripping so tight bruises are already beginning to blossom around his fingertips.

Neither of you move for a while after, having fucked out all the bad blood between you, as he rests his forehead against yours, breath mingling in the small space between as you work to catch your breath. Your arm is wrapped around his shoulder, other in his hair keeping him close as you both giggle into kisses, draining him slowly in between.

The marks left on your skin fade slowly away, Satoru chooses not to heal himself, keeping the scratches on his back, his “battle scars” he teased as you rolled your eyes.

Eventually you end up back at his place, in his bed, cuddled into his chest asleep. He has an arm wrapped around you as he uses the other to move a few strands of hair out of your face watching you sleep peacefully.

He sighs, running his thumb along the edge of your nose and under your eyes, watching as a soft smile graces your lip from his touch.

And then he remembers the clothes neither of you grabbed before warping away.

taglist: @q-the-rockaholic @greenlovers @naorizenin @a1hina @plants-w0rld @patat-boi @rlvslouis @littledemoness15 @thisbicc @nothisispatrick300 @km7474 @missyasma @hecatesflames @arisucat @creolequeen11210 @imperatorkhaleesi @xiaosie

172 notes · View notes