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#this is the longest prompt and the only one with smut
mypoisonedvine · 8 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || william killick x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || your husband sometimes gets carried away with his devotion to you...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3.7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || noncon/heavy dubcon smut (18+ only!!! rough sex, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, praise and degradation, dark but the reader is lowkey into it lmaooo), jealousy and possessiveness, yandere vibes?, gaslighting/manipulation, established relationship, alcohol consumption
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"Heavens, you look stunning!" Gordon announced when he saw you, opening his arms wide as an invitation for an embrace.  You only went in for a quick hug, but he grabbed you tight and kissed the top of your head as you laughed delightfully.  "Doesn't she look ravishing?  Don't I have excellent taste?"
The other ladies nearby nodded in agreement, hanging off of him like they tended to.  That was the way Gordon was: magnetic, for his personality just as much as his looks.  Blonde curls with light brown eyes and that megawatt smile… as long as you'd known him, he'd never had trouble with ladies— he just made trouble for them.
"Aren't I the greatest literary agent you ever had?" he asked you, and you rolled your eyes.
"You're the only I've ever had," you reminded him.  "You represented me when I was a teenage girl trying to sell my assignments from secondary school!"
"Yes, so I win by default," he decided with a big kiss to your cheek that made you scrunch up your nose.
"But that makes you the worst I ever had, too, doesn't it?" you noticed as Gordon relaxed his embrace to just an arm around your waist.
"See?" he prompted the nearby women, "Didn't I tell you?  Can't get anything past this one— sharp as a whip, she is—"
As you shrugged in dismissal of the praise, you looked around the room in awe of all Gordon had done for you now.  He had a taste for the extravagant, clearly; truth be told, it was nothing like you'd pictured it, and nothing like what you'd asked him for when he insisted on throwing a party.
"So, please, drink up, be merry, all of that," Gordon instructed his ladies, motioning out towards the crowded room, "get properly sloppy if you must— all in honour of this lovely woman right here… a genius of writing, and one of my longest and dearest friends."
As they departed in search of free drinks, you turned to Gordon with a nervous frown.  "I'm not sure this is really all for me, Gordy," you sighed.
"Of course it is," he chuckled heartily, "I told you I'd throw something to celebrate another year of us working together— I wanted to have a gala for your novel's first publishing, but you were too busy on the honeymoon then—"
You smiled just at the mention of your honeymoon.
"All these people, doll, they're here for you," Gordon assured.
"The people, maybe; but the evening wear, the drinks, the music, the glamour?  That's for you, isn't it?" you smirked.
But before he could respond to the accusation, his eyes fell somewhere at the other end of the room, and he turned you to look the same way.  "Speaking of people here for you…" he trailed off.
You perked up when you saw William, slipping through the crowds of people, already approaching you with his hat tucked under his arm.
"You came!" you squealed with excitement as you jumped towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.  "Oh, dear," you sighed when you saw that you'd printed berry-red lipstick on his cheek, starting to wipe it off with your fingers.
"I couldn't miss it, of course," he smiled at you, his voice so soft you barely heard it over the hustle and bustle of the party.
"They shouldn't have let you in," Gordon said, making you both look back at him.  "It's black tie only, you know."
William smiled slightly with his lips pressed together.  "He's only joking," you realised with an awkward mumble.
"The uniform seemed to go over alright," William replied, sticking his hand out towards Gordon for a shake.
"Oh, don't be so formal," Gordon laughed as he yanked William into rough side-hug.  "We know each other, don't we?"
"Sort of," William answered under his breath as Gordon put a heavy hand— adorned with golden decorative rings— on his shoulder.  
"Though I've half a mind to rough you up for convincing my star author to publish her next book under her married name," Gordon continued with a haughty laugh.  "She's already so established with the maiden name!"
"I didn't convince her of anything, I only married her," William defended.  
"Never thought you'd manage to tie this one down," Gordon smirked, "independent as she is."
"She didn't put up too much of a fight," William winked at you, and you felt a little flushed as you blinked quickly.
Apparently tired with that line of conversation, Gordon stood beside you and flipped it back to the real topic of the evening: your writing.
“She’s quite a prodigy!” Gordon exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping an arm around you, then.  “You’ve read what she writes, haven't you?”
“Some of it,” William admitted with a nervous laugh, looking down for a moment.  “The rest is too sad for me, I’m afraid.”
“Her latest is a masterpiece,” Gordon assured.  “Forbidden love, secrets, affairs—”
“Sordid stuff,” William frowned, shaking his head.
“Sells, though,” Gordon winked.  “Men and women— we’re even selling copies in America!”
William only nodded, not seeming too convinced, and you deflated slightly as you reached out for your husband’s hand.  “Aren’t you proud of me?” you asked, sounding much more pathetic than you meant to.
“Of course, darling,” he smiled at you, “always.”
“You don’t mind if I borrow your lovely wife again, do you?” Gordon beamed.  “There’s some people over there she should meet— they might just sponsor the tour for her next novel.”
“All these book tours, I feel as if she’s hardly ever home,” William sighed.
“Well, we’ve got to keep her on the tours,” Gordon chuckled, “or that pretty face will go to waste!”
William’s jaw tightened as he nodded curtly in agreement, and you felt nervousness turning in your stomach.
“You should have a drink, soldier,” Gordon offered to lighten the obvious tension, handing William a wide glass of champagne.
He patted your husband a little too roughly on the back as he drank, before dragging you off to talk to some publishers or whatever— you glanced over to try to see your husband at the bar, hoping to catch him smiling at you, but you only caught his icy stare over the edge of his glass.
~
Enough liquor loosened you both up, and you managed to enjoy the party well into the hours of the night— it was almost one in the morning when you got home, yet you had a shocking amount of energy still coursing through you as you started to undress at the vanity.  It must’ve been all the people there, and knowing they were all celebrating you; it was electrifying, even as someone who preferred to be cooped up alone with her typewriter.
William leaned against the bedroom doorway as you shed your heels and stockings, then unpinned your hair.  When you saw him skulking on the reflection, you smirked to yourself, taking out one of your earrings.
“What’s the matter, love?” you asked sweetly, but he said nothing.  “Love?”
“I guess I’m not much of a partier,” he explained flatly.
You smiled a little, taking out your other earring and then reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace.  You didn’t even really notice the silence before it was broken.
“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” William said suddenly, and you scoffed— once you realised what he was talking about.
“He’s just that way,” you assured, “I don’t take it personally.”
“And all the talk of your genius, of your prodigious writing— that’s not personal?”
You shrugged slightly as you turned slightly and looked at him over your shoulder, smiling but knitting your brows together in confusion.  “Isn’t that why you married me?  I thought you liked the way people fawn over me.”
“But you know him,” William insisted again.  “You knew him before you even met me, you work with him— you spend long hours with him, when I’m gone—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laughed, standing up, but he only glared at you.  You tilted your head as you approached him.  “William, you couldn’t really think—”
“Don’t patronise me,” he sneered, and when you reached out to touch his face, he snatched you by the wrist and yanked you closer.
“William!” you scolded, whimpering as he moved his face close to yours, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through them.  “William, please—”
“Look at me,” he demanded, grabbing your face with his other hand.  “Look at your husband, darling.”
You bit your lip to suppress its shaking, meeting his fiery— yet cold— stare.  “You’re hurting me,” you whispered, tightening your hand into a weak fist as he held it painfully tight.
“I can see, you know,” he told you sharply and quietly through his teeth.  “I can see the way you laugh at his jokes, and let him pull you closer.  His hand on your hip—”
“It’s nothing, William,” you breathed, and his hand moved down from your face to your neck, then your chest, where he brushed his fingers over the neckline of your dress.
“Wearing the dresses he buys for you,” he noticed with a sneer.  “God, he’s got you looking like his fucking whore.”
He shoved you back and you tripped to land on the bed, hiding your face in fear and shame as he stalked towards you.
“Now you want to play innocent?” William spat as he towered over you.  “I told you to fucking look at me!”
“I can’t!” you sobbed, fighting when he grabbed your arms and tried to pry them apart, attempting to force you to turn onto your back.  “I can’t, William, not when you’re like this!”
“You made me like this!” he accused, eventually getting you to turn over so he could pin down your wrists on either side of your head.  “You made me like this,” he said again, voice lowered from shouting to a soft growl.  “You let him put his filthy fucking hands all over you, didn’t you?”
“No, William,” you denied, crying weakly as you shook your head.  “Never.  I love you— I love you more than anything.”
“But you won’t tell me the truth,” he snarled.  “The truth, darling, not another story— not another one of your goddamn stories!”
“He kissed me!” you admitted suddenly, and before you could explain, William roughly slammed his lips onto yours.  You whimpered into it, struggling against his tightening grip, and he pressed you down into the bed with the weight of his body.
“Tell me how it happened,” he demanded, lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, eyes still piercing through you.
“I swear, Will, I told him to stop,” you breathed, “I pushed him away.  I told him I love you, William— and I do, don’t you know how much I do?”
“He kissed you,” William repeated, rage tinting his voice.
“That’s all, I swear,” you promised.
“And you didn’t tell me—”
“I thought you’d get angry,” you defended weakly.
“You didn't tell your poor, doting husband,” he groaned, “your heartbroken husband—”
“I’m so sorry, William,” you whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell me, hm?  Because you love him?”
“No!  Fuck, no,” you cried.
“Because you considered it— because you thought about letting him make love to you?”
“No!” you shouted, but he suddenly put a hand over your mouth to muffle it.  When you stopped, stilling briefly as he looked down at you, he took his hand away and stroked your cheek with it.
“He must have forgotten,” William whispered under his breath, petting your face and acting oddly sweet.  “He must have forgotten that you… belong to me.”
You blinked quickly, shivering as he pressed a slow, short kiss to your lips.
“That these lips belong to me,” he continued with a sigh, “that this neck belongs to me—”
He kissed it, but brushed his teeth teasingly over your pulse.
“That every single, beautiful, perfect part of you,” he went on, hands running down over your chest and settling on your waist tightly, “belongs to me.”
He bit down harder on your neck and you whined.
“Did you forget too, darling?”
“William, you’ll leave marks,” you whimpered, “you’ll bruise me—”
“Good,” he purred, “then you can’t just take your ring off and act single, can you?”
“I never take off your ring, William,” you swore, “not even to bathe…”
“I still want my marks all over you,” he explained darkly, “I still want you bruised tomorrow.  I don’t just want them to know you’re married, darling— I want them to know how good I fuck you.  I want them to know that your husband fucks you.”
Suddenly his hands were at your dress, tearing it to shreds right down the front.
“And I want them to know,” he continued with a groan, “how much you love it.”
He flipped you over roughly, yanking you up by your hair until you were forced to scramble onto your hands and knees.  Your head dropped defeatedly when he let go of your hair, and he held your hips tightly with one hand as he opened his trousers with the other.
“W-wait,” you stammered, but he ignored you, reaching up under the tatters of your dress to yank your girdle and panties down.  Before you could beg for some mercy again he slammed into you, making you choke out a wavering cry; instantly he was fucking you hard and fast, making you shake all over and try to reach back to grab his hips so he might slow down.  “W-Will, love, please—” you whimpered helplessly.
“Fuck, if that son of a bitch could see you like this,” William sneered.  “If he could see you now— he’d know who you belong to, wouldn’t he?  If he could see you on your hands and knees, begging for me…”
He fucked you even harder— his hand reached up to hold onto your shoulder so you wouldn’t fall forward from the force of it.
“If he could see what a dirty little wife you are,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your skin— more marks, you were sure.  “Fuck, you’re soaking me already, darling.”
A whimper slipped from your mouth as he leaned down, holding you tightly and speaking right by your ear.
“You like it, don’t you?  Playing with me,” he hissed.  “You like driving your poor husband crazy, thinking you might be stepping out on him?”
You shook your head, choking on a moan as he slowed his movements to make sure every thrust reached as deep into you as possible.  “N-no, love, no—”
“You like how I fuck you when I’m angry, don’t you?” he went on anyways, biting the shell of your ear until your channel clenched around him.  “Is that what got you so wet, darling?”
Biting your lip to hide your moans, you held tighter onto the sheets beneath you, and one of his hands came down to wrap around yours.
“So sweet,” he cooed, “such a sweet little wife.  You look so innocent, darling, they have no idea what a slut you are— none of them do, but fuck… they will.”
He sped up again and you whined loudly; the pain and the pleasure together made your legs shake, hardly able to hold you up on the bed.  He snatched one of the nearby pillows and shoved it under your hips— it kept them up when he began to fuck you so hard that you fell forward, and the angle hit just right inside you as a desperate scream was muffled by your face falling into the sheets.
"Yes, there she is," he praised, "my whore wife— how she loves to be fucked, reminded of her place.  This is your place, isn't it?  In my bed, sweet cunt taking my cock?  Not out with that awful man— not on those godforsaken book tours—"
When you tried to reach back to keep him from going too deep again, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them back beside your face as he kept thrusting even faster, making the whole bed bounce and shake.
"You can take it all, darling," he promised with a groan, "you can fit your husband inside, all the way— fuck, you're so beautiful like this.  You're so perfect, my angel…"
He buried his face in your neck as he thrusted into you, his own moans rivalling yours while he kissed your neck and ear and shoulder.  
No one could accuse your husband of lacking passion, even if they didn’t see him like this— which you really hoped they didn’t.  From the very beginning, he’d pursued you fervently: he read one of your short stories, and wrote rather effusive fan mail to the magazine in which it was published.  And then when he came to your publisher’s office hoping to meet you, he took one look at you and became properly obsessed.  He insisted you were the love of his life… and before you’d even really gotten to know him!  You were nearly offended at first; but the longer his seduction went on, the more you couldn’t help but fall for him.  Strong yet tender, kind yet stern, intelligent yet sensitive… and creative, much more than you expected.  He had quite an imagination.
Unfortunately, that imagination had a dark side, especially with his tendency to be quite jealous.  It had never gone this far before, though.
He pulled out of you, only a moment of relief and disappointment, before turning you onto your back and hovering over you.  “Look at me,” he demanded again, though his voice was low and gentle now, “look up at me, beautiful.”
He tilted your chin up with two fingers, admiring the tears in your eyes with a tender sort of expression.
“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck as he slowly pushed back inside you.  Your back arched and he slipped one arm under it to hold you tightly as he set a more careful pace than before— though still not all that slow.  "My beautiful girl— you can't help it, can you?  The way men feel about you."
A slightly deeper thrust made you gasp and reach up to hold his shoulders, blinking through the watering in your eyes.
"Of course he kissed you," he breathed, "if you were another man's wife, I'd kiss you too.  I'll always have to have you, darling, nothing could stop me."
"I pushed him away, love," you swore again.
"I know, I know," he cooed.  "But I still can't stand to think of it… of my darling wife being kissed by someone else.  He would've only done that if he thought you'd kiss him back, you know— he thought you would let him fuck you."
He picked up his pace, staring deep into your eyes and gripping you tightly.
“When you’re pregnant, then he’ll know,” William announced proudly as he held your hips.  “Then everyone who sees you will know: you fucking belong to me.”
Overwhelmed by it, you felt yourself get even hotter and slicker between the legs at the idea of that.  He was wrong about you wanting to make him jealous, but neither of you could deny now that you got some gratification out of it.
“Say it,” he ordered.
“I belong to you,” you promised, “I’m yours— you know I’m yours, love, always—”
He hummed in agreement, pumping deeper and faster into you as your head spun.  “You’ll be the most beautiful expectant wife there ever was,” he purred, a rough hand tugging your bra out of the way and groping your breasts.  “These nice and full— all of you swollen and soft—”
“W-William,” you stammered, hardly able to breathe with his weight on you and the way he filled you.
“Big belly,” he cooed, “and my baby inside— our baby.  Fuck, how can I wait to see you like that?”
“F-fuck,” you choked out, “don’t stop, please… please, my love—”
“I’ll fill you, darling,” he promised lowly, baring his teeth as you started to fall into it— your head tilting back into the mattress, pleasure overtaking you, your fingers digging into his shoulders.  “I’ll give you everything I have, every night, until it takes—”
“Please,” you begged, holding him tighter and lifting your face up with what little energy you had to bury it in his shoulder.  You cried from the intensity of it all— from everything— as shudders wracked your body.  He groaned as he felt you pulsing around him, kissing your face and groaning beside your ear.
“What a good little wife,” he praised as you came, “what a perfect little wife— you want it, don’t you?  To be pregnant, have my child?”
You barely managed to nod, you were so overcome by every sensation running through you.  But you did, and he growled proudly.
“You will, my angel,” he promised, “I’ll make sure of it.  Just say one more time that you love me, darling— that you’ll always be mine—”
“I-I love you so much, William,” you swore, muffled in the jacket that you clutched needily.  “I’m yours— I’m always yours— oh!”
You lost track of your words, but it didn’t matter then because you were drowned out by his gasps: heavy, low breaths as he pressed into you one last time and filled you completely.
Instantly, you were flooded with even more emotions: shame, ecstasy, confusion, hurt, love.  It was too much to take even if you weren’t still slightly tipsy and entirely sleep-deprived, but altogether it just turned you into a mess.
After coming down from his high— though he was still catching his breath— William seemed to sober up in a second as you cried harder.  Cooing gently at you, he wrapped his arms tighter around you and hugged you close.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he breathed as he held you tightly, “I’m so sorry.  You know it’s just my love that makes me this way— I just can’t stand to see another man lay his hand on you… I just can’t imagine you with anyone else, it breaks my heart, darling.”
“You break my heart, William,” you whispered back, still hiding in his shoulder, “when you think I could ever hurt you like that.  When you accuse me of something like that—”
“I just get scared, darling,” he sighed, petting your back slowly as he rocked you in his arms.  “I just get scared that you’re too good to be true.  That this beautiful creature can’t be all mine.”
You smiled against his skin, holding onto him tighter.  “I love you so much, William… I’d never— you have to believe me, I’d never—”
“Shh,” he soothed softly, as he held your head and kissed the top of it.  “I know, darling, I know.  Because you belong to me.”
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trashmouth-richie · 30 days
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this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush
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18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌
2.1k // eddie x fem reader
your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?
send me a prompt!
“Don’t be a dumbass.” 
Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement. 
In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens. 
Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. 
Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot. 
“Why would I lie about that?” 
Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.” 
Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw,  no need to shoot the messenger.”
What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable. 
The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table. 
Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson. 
Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you. 
Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him. 
He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.” 
Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.
The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often. 
It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose. 
A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world. 
Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you. 
It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on. 
He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza. 
Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.
So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. 
Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world. 
Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here. 
By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken. 
“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”
“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone. 
Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?” 
He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.” 
Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it. 
instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.” 
“Huh?” 
Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”
He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them. 
“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.” 
“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered. 
“Okay?”
“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.” 
Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.
Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance. 
“Pretty sure this is harassment.” 
You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.
Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.” 
“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”
He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.
“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”
You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!” 
He barrels around you, demanding your attention. 
“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.” 
Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now. 
“Ed—” 
He smirks.
“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”
“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him. 
“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?” 
“Get..” 
“He bigger than me?” 
“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.
“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”
The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way. 
He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom. 
“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.” 
“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”
“I don’t know.” 
“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”
“Babe—.” 
“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”
His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved. 
He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it. 
Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.
His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor.  His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions. 
He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”
You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed. 
He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice. 
“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.” 
Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.
Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.
Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat. 
He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips. 
New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song. 
You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever. 
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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months
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Not sure if you take requests but could you write about Shang Tsung (and others) with breeding kink?🙏
feat. Shang Tsung, Bi-Han, Liu Kang, Syzoth (aka the guy I think would be into it)
tw: smut, afab!reader
author note: requests are open! It's been a while since I wrote smut, I hope you'll like these.
Shang Tsung: -He is staining your soul, putting his seed of evil into you. -The thought gives him goosebumps, his right hand keeping your leg up and open wide, while to other play with your nipple and at the same time pushes your back against his front. -The hand that way playing with your chest slides lower, now drawing patterns on your tummy that in a few month will be round and full. -Shang Tsung bites his lower lip, and close tight his eyes, it's a sinful thought that is bringing him too fast to the end. -"Let me cum inside, you want it too right? You always tell me, don't you remember?" He whispers into your ear, voice weavering at each of his thrust in your core. -You seriously don't remember ever telling him that, but you nod, too fucked, too lost in the throes of pleasure to formulate a coherent thought. -"I knew it, you will be an excellent brood mare." He smirks, wide and wicked. -Shang Tsung almost hope he didn't impregnate you this time, the idea so good he wants to try again and again. -Not that he will stop anyway…
Bi-Han: -He is the Grandmaster, you know? He needs heirs! -But Bi-Han isn't doing this to follow orders, his eyes liquid lust while looking at your soft body, phrases way too broken and badly formulated to be of a man following his duty. -"I'll make you full of my cum, I'll fuck you so good-" The sudden grip of your core make Bi-Han stops in his track, lost in the pleasure of your pussy suiting his cock like a glove. -It's not like you are doing any better, legs up his shoulders, hands scratching his biceps the only stable thing to keep you anchored to this moment, mind wandering in the sea of bliss at each of his hard thrusts. -Bi-Han can't stop thinking of your chest, filled to the brim with milk, soft and round begging to be touched, nipples hard desperate for some attention, tummy full of yours and his child. -His mind plays a dirty trick and he cums with just one last thrust, falling on top of you, groaning into your neck, while he fills you with his cum. -"Keep it all in, don't make a single drop fall."
Liu Kang: -He waited his entire life to be in peace and in love. Now it's time to step up the game. -The idea of you carrying his baby, your entire body glowing of happiness make his brain vessels close really fast, blood flowing to his crotch pathetically fast. -That's why now you are on your hands and knees, taking him like a champ, his thrusts hard and fast, the fat of your ass red from the slaps you counted a minute ago, the sound you are both making obscenely lewd. -Liu Kang isn't a gentleman. He is a man with a goal that he needs to accomplish if he doesn't want to become crazy. -Something that you already are, tears running down your face, drool escaping your open mouth, moans escaping freely. -"Please, lemme cum-" You sob "I've been good." You gasp out. -Liu Kang whines after hearing your voice. You always sound so good, and he is too weak to you. -"Take it all, my darling, you can do it. I know it." He prompts you on, close to the end himself. -And you do, not even a sound escapes your mouth, too tired and desperate, total opposite of Liu Kang whom cum into you, an high pitched moan blessing your ears. -You lay down, knees and arms weak after the intense session, trying to stabilise your breath, while your lover stay behind you, pulling out and admiring his work. -Liu Kang notices some cum rolling down your core, so he scoop it up with his index and middle finger to plunge it inside you again, earning him a whine. -"Don't waste any of it, keep it inside. It's holy, you know?"
Syzoth: -He gets a bit insane thinking of you having his kids, honestly. -That's why for the longest time, Syzoth won't say anything and keep this thought for himself, ashamed you may get scared. -But then he finds out you share his kink and his wall drop. But he'll ask to repeat yourself because Syzoth thinks his intrusive thought pulled a bad joke on him. -Syzoth prefers to enjoy his kink when he isn't in "heat", when his mind is a bit more stable and he can control himself a bit more. You tell him he is fine either way, but please respect his decision one step at a time. -Doesn't mean Syzoth won't rock your world anyway; you should know how hot your shy boy is. -Syzoth would bite your neck, tell him if he is being too rough, he may not be in "heat," but the blood isn't pumping only in his brain right now. -Don't tap out! For lizards, it means you are being submissive, and it is like an okay sign to keep going, Syzoth didn't agree on a safe word with you just for fun. -"You are so fucking big-" You turn your head back as best as you can, face still pushed into the mattress, voice almost a little whine "Fill me up, please cum inside!" -Syzoth doesn't have to mind to reply, but he understands enough to act, filling you to the brim, the idea of your full tummy and soft glow the last push he needed.
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mphountitled · 3 months
Text
𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡
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Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader I Brief!Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader
Summary: you ought to not be surprised by Farleigh's constant cheating. You should, instead, use his greatest adversary to get back at him.
Warnings: Language, Dark fic, Mentions of Violence, Toxic Relationship, Mentions of Drug Use, Smut (+18), Public Sex, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Dub/Con, Choking, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Threats, Rough Sex, Sadism, Masochism, Dry Humping, Orgasm Denial,Cervix fucking, Dom!Oliver, Subspace, Corruption Kink, Humiliation,
This film opened my brain and spilled out everything inside.
𖤓
Because neither you nor Farleigh had ever been modest about your relationship, Oliver was made privy to every single bit of it. You both were so indiscreet and so hellbent on showing everyone else that you were together, it felt as if Oliver lived in your skin.
Whenever you and Farleigh cuddled drunkenly, Oliver was made privy. Whenever you and Farleigh exchanged sexually charged glances across the dinner table, Oliver was made privy. Whenever Farleigh was touch-starved and sank his claws around your throat, Oliver, always skulking in the background, was made privy. Whenever you two fucked. He was there.
Oliver could hear the two of you eating each other alive during a majority of his stay at Saltburn so he should be used to this behavior by now.
“What a slut,” Farleigh's words are wrapped in humid sweat, with his hands locked firmly around your throat, “What a good fucking slut.”
Oliver, having just decided to take a midnight stroll, watches from the shadows as Farleigh takes you right there in the courtyard. He may not particulary fond of Farleigh, still Oliver had to applaud that he at least had the decency to ravage you in secret. Oliver remains watching, not because it gives him any sexual gratification, but only because he did not imagine your sex lives to be this visceral… certainly not this animalistic.
“You are fucking filth, you know that?” Farleigh asks, rutting into you with your back pressed against a stone surface. Instead of your eyes fluttering shut, you were gazing over Farleigh's shoulder, staring straight ahead at the shadow skulking in the darkness.
Oliver held a finger up to his lips, prompting you to keep your mouth shut.
You watch each other as Farleigh fucks into you, continuing his words of mindless praise. “Gorgeous fucking filth-” and you both cum at that. Farleigh with his eyes shut, and you, with your mouth hanging open and your gaze stationed on Oliver.
Before this exact moment, Felix was the only thing that existed in Oliver's whole wide world. He did not notice you, but never ever think that he was not aware of you. In fact, as far as Oliver knew, you held no standing of any official significance in Saltburn.
Beyond, of course, being Farleigh's overcompensated whore.
You were almost as inescapable as Farleigh, but not nearly as annoying and for the most part, you played the role of a good little girl, forever glued to her unfaithful boyfriend’s side.
These are the thoughts that pollute Oliver’s mind as he drifts through the vibrancy of his own party, having left the maze and Felix's limp body in it.
Oliver's feet, clad in all-too-expensive Italian leather only seem to weigh him down as he drifts aimlessly through the egregious castle. Neon lights spill over a carpet stitched with cocaine and he has to fight the urge not to shove past the drunken bodies congesting his pathway.
For the longest time, Oliver was convinced that you were one of them: These people disguised as parasitic waste dancing underneath the moonlight, celebrating his supposed birthday. Instead, Oliver finds you here, taking up space in the Blue Room with your figure helplessly draped over the bed.
Your form is reminiscent of The Nightmare. One of Oliver’s most beloved paintings, reason being, because it was so unequivocally dreadful. He watches you as he would The Nightmare.
Your eyes are wet and your body is wracking with pitiful sobs into your forearm. Ollie may not be good at emotions but he can tell you're distraught- like one of Fuseli's girls.
Soon, the whole thing becomes too uncomfortable to watch and he clears his throat as he says,
“Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone was in here.”
“Oh-Ollie!”
Your shoulders shoot up, and you nearly jump off the bed in apparent fright. Your eyes are wide saucers and your skin is dark in the moonlight. Ollie has to resist the urge to lick his lips.
He wanted to fucking eat you alive.
“Fuck, did I scare you?” He hunches his shoulders, making himself smaller than he usually was. “My apologies.” He had to appease you somehow in your startled state and you You quick to press a shaky palm to your cheeks, utterly devestated to find the surface of your skin wet and salty.
Out of all the parasites in this nest, you were the least bloodthirsty.
“How utterly embarrassing,” you coo, before wiping furiously away at your cheeks.
Sensing the perfect opening, Oliver steps over the threshold, polluting the space, as he did the rest of Saltburn, with his presence alone.
“Where'd you come from?” You ask before sitting up at the edge of the bed.
“Murdering my best friend.” Oliver answers cooly, with his wooden horns silhouetted by the moonlight.
As he creeps closer the moonlight highlights the crevices of your face and Ollie is able to capture the smile that cracks across your visage. He loves that.
You are so deliciously routine.
“Understandable,” you calmly shoot back, “Sometimes I could just fucking kill Farleigh myself.”
How curious. You thought he was joking.
“That's why you were crying, then?” Ollie asks, as he skulks about the Blue Room. He glides his finger across the dusty mantle before turning his eyes back to you, “You were crying because of Farleigh?”
He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear you say it.
Your glittery brows curve again above your puffy eyes, just as your lips protrude into a shaky pout. Fuck he was so painfully hard.
“You'd rather eat glass than hear about my common relationship problems,” you chuckle, fighting back a sob.
“I'd rather eat glass than get back to that stupid party.” And his eyes are so genuine, you immediately believe him. “You'd be saving me, he says, before finally planting himself down on the bed beside you. “Promise.”
“Not much to tell honestly,” You shrug, causing the left string of your cocktail dress to fall off your shoulder. You leave it there. “ You know how Farleigh can be... He has somewhat of a-”
“-Communal penis?” Ollie interjects, “Fucking anything and everything that even vaguely gives him the time of day?”
“Exactly!” and before you know it, you're giggling in the dark with a stranger. “I get tested for STD's like I'm a fucking invalid-”
“The sexiest fucking invalid I've ever come across.” He's closer now. Close enough to tell you've been drinking.
With your eyes trained on his full lips, a thought strikes you suddenly. "Happy birthday, Ollie.” That is enough to snap his gaze up from your exposed collarbone, and up to your big, round eyes. He does not respond for several seconds, promtpting you with the devestaing thought that you might have struck some unforseen nerve.
“H-ave I upset you?” You ask in such genuine concern and naivete, it nearly causes Oliver to cum in his fucking pants. He needed to defile you so badly. He needed you to cry around his cock. He just needed you-
“'Course not," Oliver clears his throat before unclenching and clenching his wired fist, "It's just-you're the first person that's said that to me all night.” Your eyes are hazy now, with your brain having caught on to the very daunting fact that you're in a room with someone who perhaps has other intentions. He is leaning in before slithering his calloused hand on your thigh. Never ever do you move away. Never ever do you tell him off.
“I find that hard to believe-” your bones are rattling as the warmth of his palm spreads to the inside of your steadily opening thighs. “Surely Felix must've said-”
“Fuck fucking Felix- the world doesn't revolve around him!” You're corralled into silence, with this man steadily pushing you back against the bed. “We don't need to talk about Felix,” he looks absolutely ravenous as the tips of his fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
It's so blatantly filthy, you cannot help but arch your back off the bed and press yourself further against his fingers. “F-Fuck… Ollie-” your breathing is laboured and Ollie watches utterly mesmerised by the way your hips move against his hand.
“I h-heard something about you-”
“What did you hear?” asks Oliver before pulling down your soaked underwear.
“That you don't care about fucking on menses.” You say, awaiting a response but getting none because Oliver stuffs his face between your legs. He's eating you out with absolute fervour, with his nose bumping periodically against your clit.
“Where'd you hear that?” He mumbles against your cunt.
He did not expect to be so utterly taken by you. This is wholly unexpected.
“A certain bottled blonde- FUCK- J-Just like that- please, God, please-”
He only pulls away, only to shrug off his blazer. With his horns and his cock indenting against his pants, he looks absolutely terrifying, that only has you rutting in the air helplessly.
“You mean Venetia is not a real blonde?” He asks before shoving his face in between your legs once more, “I feel betrayed.” The sarcasm drips from his tongue. The same tongue that slithers out his mouth to lick hurriedly against your cunt. He suctions his lips against your hole, as if he wanted to taste inside you.
“I didn't fuck her-” He pants, before pushing his nose against your cunt, “I didn't fuck her all the way- FUCKING BITCH-” Sharp pain bleeds from his scalp because your fingers and its acrylics are buried in his hair now.
“G-God, yes, Ollie-” you're actively rubbing your cunt against his face, absolutely using him to get off. Almost immediately, Oliver immediately decides that won't do.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks, before pinching your clit causing you to still your movements completely. Your torso is wracking with sweat and your nipples pierce through the softness of your dress.
“O-Ollie P-please-”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks before removing his face from your cunt all together. You try desperately, to hold your moan, but the sight of him crawling up your torso seems enough to almost have you cumming untouched.
You fight against it. You fight against the warmth in the pits of your stomach, you fight against the urge to hump mindlessly into the air until your cunt creates friction with… something. You fight hard.
His breath is warm against your face, but never once do you look away.
“I use you,” he whispers before slithering a hand around your throat.
He squeezes.
“And I'd fucking die before I ever let it be the other way around.” He squeezes and squeezes until you're tapping furiously against his palm.
“Look at how gorgeous you look when you're not being a filthy fucking whore.” You can't help it. Your hips immediately buck up into nothing despite your shortness of breath. You're clawing at his wrists, hoping he'd ease his grip but Oliver does nothing of the sort. In fact, he only moans at the sight of your eyes sinking to the back of your head-
“Fucking, fuck-” He curses, before quickly undoing the vexing buttons of his pants. “Bloody disgusting,” he says, watching the drool ease out your mouth, “You are bloody disgusting-” he sinks into you the very moment he eases his hand away from your throat. You're gulping generously at the air as Oliver slaps against your cheeks, bringing you back to the land of the living.
“There she is,” he punctuates his sentence with a violent thrust, “There she fucking is-”
Pleasure and pain shoot through every channel of your body until you can't even decipher the two. “OH MY FUCKING GOD-”
“I love when you call me that, baby,” He mumers with his eyelids heavy, “I fucking love when you call me that, with your pretty fucking voice, you USELESS fucking bitch-”
It is absolutely sick and absolutely deranged. Every other word that skates out of his mouth is a contradiction of the last and you're utterly frightened of the beast taking you so roughly.
“You're taking it so well-” he whispers, before letting his hand squeeze your nipples through your dress, “Your cunt is taking my cock so fucking well, baby- Fuck-” when the head of his cock presses to that sensitive pillowy plushness, you're wailing in the dark like a banshee. Wanting to push him off of you, but not wanting the pleasure to end. Your struggle only brings him closer and closer to edge.
“I-Is that your fucking cervix, baby- Fuck-”
“Oh God- Ollie.”
He nods, “Now you're gonna cum for me, yeah? You're gonna cum for me and you're gonna think about your stupid cunt of a boyfriend. How he doesn't fuck you like I do-” your orgasm has already started to trickle in and your hips lift up to collide with his, “Tell me- Tell me you can't fucking live without me-” He says, “I need it to cum, tell me, tell me-”
“I need you, Ollie.” His lips stutter open, just as his thrusts become shallower and shallower “I need you to fucking live, Ollie-”
“FUCK- oh fucking fuck-” his spunk fills your insides, just as the entirety of your orgasm washes over you and you immediately realize that you're crying. You're crying because everything feels so good. Oliver has completely strummed you to orgasm. He has moulded your body into everything he needs it to be.
“I fucking use you.” He says, “Not the other way around.”
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slut4thebroken · 4 months
Text
Daddy’s Little Girl
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Stepdad!Raymond Leon x reader
Summary | Your stepdad catches you doing something you shouldn’t be.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, very large age gap, technically incest, innocence kink, protective (controlling) Ray, grinding, pillow humping hehe, praise, degradation, spanking, punishment?, humiliation, virginity checks, daddy but not the kink?, he kind of hates everyone except you tbh.
Words | 3.7 k
Notes | Idk I feel like the end maybe got a lil ooc but I feel like it’s not enough to be out of place in the fic.
Ao3 link | <3
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Tonight was movie night, your favorite night of the week. For the longest time, your step dad refused to do this. You’d beg and beg, and he’d stare at you with that hard, unrelenting gaze until you gave up. That was while you still called him Mr. Leon. That was before your mom skipped town, leaving you with him. You were 16 when that happened and Raymond seriously considered sending you off to some orphanage. It was only two more years anyway. 
But over time, the idea started to make his stomach churn and his jaw clench in anger. That was when he started treating you like his stepdaughter, rather than some child he was stuck with. That was when you started calling him daddy. 
The first time, it surprised him. Girls your age have long since grown out of calling their fathers ‘daddy’ and started calling their boyfriends that instead. But he could tell you were being genuine and not just making a move on him or trying to rile him up. It took a while, but eventually he got used to it. He even started calling you a few pet names as well. That was the first sign that he’d gone completely soft toward you. 
The second was when he actually agreed to have a movie night with you… As soon as he reluctantly said yes, you practically squealed as you ran to the couch, telling him to make popcorn while you got everything ready. 
You didn’t try to get closer to him that time. But the next time, you sat in the middle of the couch rather than on the side, still not touching him yet. The third time was when you tried to lean your head on his shoulder. He jerked away from you, mostly out of pure instinct, but when he saw your pouting face, he sighed heavily and let you do it anyway as he sat there, his body completely stiff. 
It only progressed from there, until he finally started getting used to holding you while you snuggled into his chest. He almost… liked doing it— not that he would ever admit that though. When you were in his arms, he felt like he was protecting you, keeping you safe. From what? He didn’t know. Maybe it was just paternal instinct. 
As you got older though, he got more protective. He started setting rules, most of which you were fine with. It was the little ones like bedtime by eleven on school nights or homework before fun that you didn’t like. But you followed them anyway. 
The first time you brought a boy home… he almost committed a felony, to put it simply. He never came back though— thankfully— but you yelled at him for scaring him away when you were just trying to work on an assignment together. That eased his nerves, but he still didn’t regret what he did. However, that prompted him to have a talk with you. Not the talk, you weren’t ready for that yet, he decided. 
He sat you down and told you about boys your age and their intentions and what they’d do to you if given the chance. He was trying to scare you, and it worked. He slept easy knowing that your nights were spent watching movies with him, rather than partying or having sex. 
You put on pajamas and fuzzy socks and he wore sweatpants and a shirt. While you settled on the couch and browsed for a movie, he was busy making some popcorn for you both. 
“What about this one?” You asked as he walked in and sat down next to you. 
“What’s it rated?” He seemed wary. 
“R… But I’ve seen R rated movies before!” He glanced at the screen, then turned back to you with a sigh. 
“Fine. Just this once, you know I don’t like you watching really graphic content.” You bit back a grin and pressed play. He held the popcorn in his lap and you rested your head on his shoulder, both of your lower halves covered by the blanket. 
It started out fine. There was a lot of cursing and some violence, but it wasn’t too bad. What was bad was the super graphic and super long sex scene. You shifted awkwardly and looked at your lap. Should you just watch and pretend like this isn’t weird? That’s what he’s doing…
When you folded your legs up and rested them on his thigh, he placed a warm hand just above your knee. You cleared your throat and buried your face in his chest a little. 
“It’s just a sex scene.” He chuckled quietly. 
“I- I know… I’m just not used to watching it s’all.” He hummed in response and started brushing his thumb back and forth on your thigh, making your shiver. 
“We can watch something else.”
“No! I- I’m not a child. I can watch a… a— sex scene.” You said the last two words quietly and your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 
“I know you can, princess. I’m saying you don’t have to.” You could tell he was amused, but you were getting more and more flustered. 
“Well, I- I want to.” You decided. He was fine with that. Even though he didn’t really want you watching this kind of stuff, he liked watching you blush and squirm. 
The sex scene was over and you relaxed into him, focusing on the movie again. The rest of it was more violence and cursing, then it was over. When you yawned and snuggled into his chest, he brought an awkward hand up to your shoulder, trying to pull you away. 
“Bed time.” You let out a low whine, but stood up anyway. “Go get ready for bed.” 
“Mhm.” You mumbled sleepily. You brushed your teeth and finished your nightly routine, but as soon as you laid down, you noticed the warm feeling in your belly and the ache between your legs. You’ve felt this once or twice, but you’ve never acted on it before. You laid there, desperately trying to ignore it and just fall asleep, but it wouldn’t go away and you kept thinking about his hand on your thigh and the way he smells and how safe you feel in his arms. Letting out a quiet whine, you pressed your thighs together and squirmed a bit, trying to ease the ache. It only got worse though. 
You turned on your side and squeezed your thighs together harder as your hips started moving back and forth, chasing pleasure that wasn’t there. You heard running water as he washed the dishes, so with the knowledge that he was too busy to catch you doing something inappropriate, you got up on your knees and placed a pillow between your legs. 
The movement of your hips was awkward at first, but you quickly picked up a comfortable pace and continued that for a while. You felt so dirty and perverted doing this, but you couldn’t stop. Especially not when you imagined doing this on his thigh instead. Would he grab your hips to help you? Or maybe he’d lay back and watch you hump his leg like a dog. 
You whimpered and closed your eyes as your head fell forward. Maybe he’d let you grind on something else… something much more R rated. The thought had you moaning quietly before you could stop yourself so you bit your lip to keep any more sounds in. You’ve only started having these thoughts about him recently and they confused you, but made you feel good, so you didn’t try to shut them down. 
Your belly felt like it was tightening and filling with heat, and you started panting as you bucked your hips faster. You weren’t exactly sure what you were feeling. All you knew was that the thought of stopping made you want to cry in desperation. 
“Are you all ready—” The door suddenly opened and you practically jumped away from the pillow as you stared at him with wide eyes. The feeling in your tummy was slowly leaving and you tried not to whine out loud because of it. “What were you doing?” He asked, tone a complete 180 from only a few seconds ago. 
“N-nothing, I was… I was getting ready for bed.” He slowly shut the door and you swallowed audibly as you waited for what was next. 
“You were getting ready for bed with your pillow down there?” He asked, obviously not believing you. You bit your lip as you nodded, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes and he stalked closer. You held your breath as he neared the bed, but when he reached for the pillow, you were too slow to try and grab it first. He held it up to his face and inhaled deeply, making your cheeks heat up as you squirmed uncomfortably. 
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to watch that movie. You get these ideas in your head and soon enough your whoring yourself around for every guy in this fucking city.” 
“No! No, I- I wouldn’t…” You didn’t want to whine, but his words were embarrassing you. He set the pillow down then sat next to it with a heavy sigh. You watched him pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes. 
“I guess this is my fault… I should’ve talked with you a long time ago, I was just scared.” Your brows furrowed in confusion and you schooched closer to him. 
“Scared?”
“Of losing my little girl. But clearly I need to accept the fact that you’re a young woman now. You can’t be my little girl forever.” You’ve never heard him sound so sad. 
“Yes I can.” You frowned. 
“Princess… You’re already 18. I don’t think that’s possible.” He chuckled dryly. 
“But… I- I want to be your little girl.” Your frown deepened and your eyes started to burn with tears. “Forever, daddy.” You whined. 
“I know, baby. But that’s what happens, you have to grow up, no matter how much you don’t want to.” You were getting even more confused and upset. What does this mean? Will there not be anymore movie nights? Will he not make you hot chocolate or read to you or tuck you in before bed? “And now’s the time. You’re already getting curious about big girl things.” 
“No! I- I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, daddy— I promise. I’ll do anything, just— please…” You cried, giving him puppy dog eyes as your bottom lip wobbled. 
“You want to stay my little girl?” He asked quietly, bringing a hand up to brush your hair out of your face. 
“Please.” You whined and he nodded. 
“You have two choices; you can be a big girl and I’ll teach you whatever you need to know to be safe, or… you can be my little girl, but you’ll need to be punished for your behavior.” 
“The second.” You didn’t even hesitate. 
“Okay, baby. Over my lap.” When you started moving to lay on his lap, he stopped you. “Other way.” You obeyed and laid across his thighs, pushing the pillow away so you could be comfortable. 
“No no no, princess.” He chuckled quietly. “That’s part of the punishment. You’re going to keep your face in your mess as a constant reminder of why you’re being punished right now.” With a low whine, you pulled the pillow back toward you, but kept your head above it. You could see now that there was a tiny damp spot on the fabric, only furthering your embarrassment. 
“Mmph!” Was the only noise you could get out when he placed a firm hand on the back of your head and shoved you down. You jumped when you felt his warm hand on the back of your thigh, slowly moving up. He teased the bottom of your sleep shorts before going back down on the other leg. “This is what you want? To be daddy’s little girl?” 
“Yes!” You cried, but it was muffled because of him still holding you down. 
“Fine.” He roughly pulled your shorts down to your thighs, making you whine and squirm in this hold. “At least you’re not completely gone yet…” He murmured, running a hand over your plain cotton panties. “Ready?” He didn’t let your reply before landing a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out. He did the same to the other cheek, then grabbed your underwear and pulled them up to expose more skin. 
You moaned quietly when he rubbed a soothing hand over your already sore ass. It felt huge. Sure you’ve noticed his hands once or twice, but it felt like he could grab your entire ass cheek and more with just one hand. 
He hit you again, but this time he didn’t stop until you were crying and reaching back to push him away. He released your head and twisted your arms behind your back painfully, keeping you still. With your head now free, you tried protesting verbally. 
“It hurts, daddy.” You whined. 
“Yeah? Keep your face in that pillow or I’ll use my belt and it’ll hurt a whole lot more.” He warned, making your breath catch in your throat. You didn’t want to find out if he was bluffing or not, so you lowered your head back down, trying not to get too embarrassed by the smell of your own arousal. 
He started spanking you again, lighter this time, but after doing it over and over, the light smacks started to hurt. You cried and squirmed and kicked your feet, trying to get a break. 
“I know…” He cooed, finally stopping to roughly rub and grope your ass, making you wince. “You can take it though.” You shook your head as a quiet sob left you. Your tears haven’t fallen yet, but you knew they were about to. 
“Please— Please… I'm sorry for being bad, daddy.” You whimpered, turning your head to try and see him. He just shushed you and continued playing with your ass for a while. When he got bored of that, he was spanking you again. He only did a few this time, but he hit you so hard… you could barely take it. You were crying now and your struggling picked up until one of your legs slid off his thigh. You held it up by your foot on the ground, but when you tried to raise it again, he placed a firm hand on that thigh to keep it in place. So you relaxed into the new position as he snaked his hand up. 
He cursed under his breath, then moved his hand to pull your panties up even further, making the outline of your cunt more pronounced. His thumb brushed over your slit, but it didn’t go anywhere near where it actually ached. 
“Now, why would my little girl be so wet during a punishment?” He asked innocently, as if his words had a less crude meaning. 
“I- I’m sorry, daddy… Can’t help it.” You whined, squirming again to try and get some kind of pressure on your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped when he pulled your panties to the side, then ran a finger through your slit. 
“Clearly you’re growing up just a little bit, but I think we can come to a fair compromise.” You waited anxiously for his proposal. “You can still be my little girl, but we’ll have some adult playtime too.” You were nodding before he even finished. “That means you can only be with daddy. Only big girls do that kind of stuff with other boys.” 
“Only you.” You promised. 
“Since I know how insatiable you're getting though, I’ll have to do checks every week, maybe more, to make sure you’re still my little girl.” 
“Checks?” You asked quietly, brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Would you like me to do one now to show you?” You agreed hesitantly and he raised his leg that was under your hips to arch your back a little. When he released your arms, you immediately brought them back up to a more comfortable position. 
He placed both hands on your thighs, just below your ass, and used his thumbs to pull you open even more, exposing you. You tried not to get embarrassed or nervous, but no one’s ever seen down there before. What if he thinks it’s ugly? What if it has a weird smell? Your thoughts were interrupted by him circling your hole with one finger. 
“Ready?” He asked, but barely dipping the tip in your entrance to tease you. 
“Y-yes.” You said through a breath. He slowly pushed his finger in and you fisted the sheets as your head dropped down— you didn’t even care about your scent on the pillow anymore. His finger was so thick and long, and you mewled quietly at the feeling. He curled it against your walls and you let out a choked moan at the new feeling. “What… What are you checking for?” You whispered, unable to speak any louder. 
“Your hymen. That’s something only little girls have. Once it’s gone, that makes you a big girl.” He explained, continuing to move his finger inside you at a torturously slow pace. 
“Daddy…” You whined breathily. The only response you got was a quiet hum, telling you to finish what you were wanting to say. “Feels good..” He suddenly pulled his finger out, forcing a strangled sob out of you. “No— please! Please keep going.” You cried as he wiped his finger on your ass to clean it off. 
“Shh. While I’m here, I might as well do a full check. Lay down.” He pulled your shorts all the way off, then you moved to the center of the bed and laid down on your back as he settled between your legs. His thumbs were pulling you apart again, but this time his finger went above your hole. Your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered closed as your hips rocked, trying to get more friction. When he brushed a finger over your clit, you jolted and released a loud moan. 
“This is only for daddy to touch, do you understand? No boys, no hands, no pillows.” You nodded as you panted and bucked your hips again. 
“Only for daddy.” You mumbled almost incoherently. He continued brushing over your clit with feather light touches, but the feeling in your belly was getting more and more intense. “Please…” You whined, squirming even more. 
“Do you even know what you’re begging for, little girl?” You shook your head as your hips started moving more frantically now, like how they were when you were on the pillow. 
“Please, daddy.” You moaned, the feeling in your tummy growing tighter. He suddenly removed his finger again and you cried out loudly, all but throwing a tantrum in response. “Please! Please don’t stop..” You sobbed. “It hurts, daddy… please make it go away.” Your voice was a pathetic whimper, but you ignored the embarrassment, focusing on giving him puppy dog eyes and a pout instead. 
“No.” You let out a long bratty whine, making him bring his hand down on your clit with a loud smack. He didn’t hit too hard, but it was hard enough to make you choke on a gasp, and then silence you. He grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the ground, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Finish what you started.” 
“But,” He raised his brows, warning you to stop disobeying him and just do it. So with a pout, you moved to the floor and straddled the pillow. 
“Atta girl. Do it just like how you were when I walked in.” You blushed at the reminder, but slowly lowered yourself onto it and started moving your hips. It didn’t take long for you to get desperate enough to show your enthusiasm without shame. But you were also getting impossibly more desperate for him. 
“Daddy… please.” You whined. “Wanna touch you.” The way you whimpered and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes made him fold almost instantly. 
“Where?” 
“Wanna do this, but… on your thigh.” He sighed, but patted his leg and you scrambled up to straddle it as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“Better?” You bit back a grin as you nodded. He suddenly grabbed your hips and started moving you against his thigh, but you quickly picked back up and started rutting against him desperately. Now that you could smell him and feel his warmth, and his strong hands holding your hips, your tummy was getting impossibly tighter with arousal. All of the friction on your clit was starting to hurt a little, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. 
“Such a good girl…” He cooed, making you whine and ride his leg faster. “I’m gonna teach you all the ways little girls can please their daddies. Do you want that, baby?”
“Mhm.” You were too spaced out to respond properly. “Daddy, it— I…” You choked out, not even knowing what it was that you were actually feeling. 
“It’s okay. Keep going.” You whined at his encouragement but obeyed eagerly, wanting to feel this pleasure longer. Your sounds got louder and your hips moved even faster until you mewled quietly as your body convulsed. You were shaking and writhing from the intense pleasure and his hands started pulling your hips when you weren’t able to focus on moving them anymore. “Good girl… Ride it out.” He said quietly and you squeezed your eyes shut as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He kept grinding your hips down on his thigh and you were sobbing out moans until it finally subsided and the achy feeling was gone. 
“How was that?” He asked, loosening his grip to an intensity that wouldn’t leave bruises. 
“What… what was…” You were panting heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm down. 
“It’s called an orgasm. Only I can give them to you, do you understand?” His voice was soft but still stern. 
“Mhm.” You nodded, now so much more tired than you were a few seconds ago. He pulled the covers back, then picked you up by your hips and placed you on the bed. You laid down, then he brought the covers up and handed you your stuffed animal before tucking you in. “My little girl.” He whispered, pushing your hair out of your face. You blushed and smiled sleepily. “Only mine.” 
“Only yours..” You mumbled incoherently and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, filling your stomach with butterflies. 
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nexusnyx · 1 year
Text
fuel to fire
#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 8 —  The night it finally happens. [“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time now.”] [5.8k]
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— Joel Miller x f!Reader — Summary: His brain was cursed by words she read not too long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime already. When you come back to him, Joel's hit with the notion—there was no denying what you were. What you meant to him. — A/n: This is a sequel to imagine being loved by me, but it can be read as a stand-alone. I love my old man and I wanted him to have the end of the book. [shrugs] | 🏷️ Tags: pre-established relationship, roadtrip, sexual tension, making out, some horny thoughts (& promises), a more possessive!Joel than I'm used to; Ellie & Reader bond; pre-smut build up.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | part one ←
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ㅤㅤㅤdo you want me on your mind ㅤㅤㅤor do you want me to go on ㅤㅤㅤi might be yours as sure as i can say ㅤㅤㅤbe gone be faraway 🎧
Coincidences were not real.
When the third so-called coincidence happens, saving not only Joel's but also Ellie's life as consequence, he knows something bigger than him is happening.
Of course, his ear is ringing when he realizes that, and he's in shock for the countless moment in his life—frozen and unable to stop the panicking heartbeat rising inside his chest because he almost died, again, and Ellie almost died, again, but something intervened and—
it's you.
Joel's chest expands. It grows what feels like two sizes, and he gasps. Out loud.
The two bandits who only just a minute ago tried robbing him and Ellie are dead on the ground, and yet, all Joel sees is you. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs — his whole chest itches with the despair that the sight of you causes, but what wins is the knot in his throat, the sting in his eyes, the undeniable wave crash of relief over the fact that you're here.
Joel dashes.
He runs to you, his own feet moving before his brain is back to functioning.
Hugging is not something he does.
He's cradled you in his arms before, he has slept in your arms and had you sleeping on his chest, all tangled in his limbs, but hugging is like kissing.
It's intimate. Raw. He avoided it for the longest time, much like he ignores the idea of feeling anything or still being alive.
Still — When his arms wrap around you, they do it tightly.
His scream is kept inside, and Joel only breaks in your shore with how much he feels for the fact that you're here, you're here. He crashes against you, hugs on tight, squeezes, inundating you with his smell of blood and sweat and Joel — he's shaking, but beyond caring. You're here.
If you mind the way he throws himself at you, it's only for a second. There's a moment of delay when Joel's trembling is too much for him to have space to realize how rigid you've turned out of nowhere, and then — it's gone.
The incessant and annoying goddamn ringing from the shots is continuous. His ears register your voice nonetheless.
"I expected a lot more screaming, but... this definitely makes up for the sixteen hours drives."
He feels your arms wrapping sort of weirdly around him.
He recalls there's a gun still in your hand, and that's probably why — Joel knows your finger's off the trigger, and he just wished you'd press your hands on him, gun or no gun. Your hands are stronger than they seem and he's missed them.
Knows you're shaking, too, and not because he feels it, but because he knows you hate fire weapons.
His hands hold onto the back of your head, hips, he grips your arms.
So, not a dream. Or a hallucination.
"You're here," he babbles.
"I'm here," you confirm.
Joel buries his nose in your neck, in your hair, smelling you. He can barely soak up your words and his body is in too much shock to feel the hug that's grounding him, but the more he feels you, the more he's okay.
It's only when Joel hears the sound of his name being screamed that everything slots back into place again with a click.
"Joel!"
Ellie.
He whips around, panic rising again over a new reason.
The wild monologues that start whenever she's around danger go at hundreds of miles per hour. The 'is she okay did she get hit is she hurt are you hurt is everything okay' —
"Are you ok?" he echoes, hands still resting on your shoulders.
Ellie's eyes are on you instead of him.
"Who's this?"
Joel turned his right side to Ellie — the habit of keeping his good ear to you seems to be sewn just as tight as ever in him, and he hears your scoff before your words. "This is so fucking insane."
Ellie looks over to Joel. "Yeah, I'm ok. You know her?" she asks again, all in one breath.
He nods. "I do." His hand squeezes on your shoulder, hyper-aware out of nowhere that he isn't alone anymore on this, and they are still alive. Because of you. He turns to you. "I trust her. This is my —" fuck, he always hated this part. "Uh — we lived together."
"Hi." You offer Ellie your name, plain and simple, then turn your head to Joel. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Ellie's not done with her questions. "If you trust her, why wasn't she with you when you and Tess went to get the battery? Or when you made the deal to take me?"
"Because Tess and I needed her to stay and take care of things 'till we came back," he answers. The implicit 'we never came back' hangs in the air, and Ellie's posture changes.
The only reservations in her shoulders evaporate, and she nods.
That's all she seems to need to accept you — an explanation and the guarantee that you have his trust; Joel's surprised by how fast she is to trust his words. His judge of character, or situations, and not for the first time.
"How did you find us?" Ellie asks, and this time, it's directed at you.
It's Joel who answers, though. "She's one helluva tracker, that's how."
He sees you nodding at Ellie, and wonders if she said something in reply that his ears missed.
Joel's hand touches your face, still in awe. You lean against the touch, but his eyes don't miss it when it happens — the sweep.
"Where's Tess?"
Joel's stomach sinks.
It's been exactly three days since the Hotel incident.
Since Henry and Sam.
Since the taste of mourning, death, tragedy. All of it still lingered in his mouth, clouding his brain, creating tension between him and Ellie. The cycle of life, the fragility of everything and everyone around has made him uncomfortable since the outbreak, and even though all he craved was to offer the girl comfort, Joel was unsure he still knew how to.
Bile still rises high in his throat when you mention her name, and Joel feels for her death.
This time, it's an empathy feel — he feels it for you, and he's surprised when there's a tangible second wave of it; when Joel's eyes find Ellie's, she's looking away from you two.
Grief carries a heavy weight, and it becomes inevitable that it shows in the face.
"Oh," you say.
He doesn't hear it, but he sees your lips forming the word.
Joel hates the world, but he hates how impossible it is that everyone is doomed to living in it. Whether one wants it or not.
Fingers squeeze around his hand, and Joel looks into your eyes waiting for his. "Let's go. You can tell me everything on the way. We're heading to Wyoming, right?"
Ellie's widen at you, and Joel wonders how long it'll take for the hero worship to start.
He had it within two days of meeting you.
"We are," Ellie replies.
"Okay. We should get out of here. Ellie, right?" You let go of Joel to walk in her direction. "You okay, kiddo? Is anything bruised, something we need to look at before we get in the car?"
Ellie's look exchanged with Joel carries an entire conversation, and when she turns back to you, Joel realizes the weight she puts on his words.
"Ah — don't worry about me. I'm kinda — of immune. To the whole thing. It's why the grump over there's risking his neck to take me and everything. So. No need to worry. I'm all good."
You take in her words, look back at Joel in search of confirmation in his features and when you find it, you say it again. "Oh." His approval means things. He realizes that now, right there and then, because of both Ellie and now you.
That's all you need to believe it.
Joel needed a month, denying it to himself over and over until he was blue in the face, Tess was gone, and nothing fucking happened, and all it took was a slight nod from him for you to turn back to her and say,
"Well, immune or not you can still sprain something or get hurt. So — are you hurt? 'Cause we tend to any bruises before we keep going, and we really need to keep going. I'm sure these two idiots weren't alone."
Ellie moves her whole body as if doing a complete scan and nods to you, sharp and more obedient than she usually is with Joel. "I'm okay."
He sees you narrowing your eyes at her. "Ok. I'll believe you know yourself well enough to let us know if you need anything." With a tilt of your neck, you ask. "How old are you?"
"I'm fourteen. How old are you?"
"Oh, way older than fourteen."
"Really?! You look kinda young." Ellie grabs her backpack from the floor and swings it on her back, and you share a look with Joel before answering.
"Ah, I know. Looks can be deceiving, though. I was your age when the outbreak happened," you share.
Ellie gasps. "No way."
"Yes, way." You chuckle. "C'mon, old man. We need to get going. These roads are really dangerous."
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It's horrendous how much can happen in such a short span of time.
Joel updates you on everything on the first night you three camp together.
Despite your numerous trips of over ten hours to catch up to them, you're the one behind wheels. It makes it easier to avoid Ellie's first-moment curiosity, to keep up a good path since Joel's eyes can focus on tiny details much better than yours, and you two need to go only a few hours away to know you've built up enough space between anyone who might've seen and wished to follow you guys and the impossibility of being found.
Setting camp mid-woods is easy. The kid — Ellie, fourteen, loud-mouthed, persistent, a volcano waiting to erupt — is good at following instructions, and she's been under Joel's systematic thumb long enough to know a lot without even needing a nudge.
By the time nightfalls arrive, Ellie's eyes are drooping.
You're re-organizing the supplies and only listening to her and Joel's short back-and-forth. It's entertaining, as much as it pokes at your curiosity.
He seems — comfortable.
In his own way.
He answers her, checks up on her, scoffs at her terrible attempts at conversation sometimes.
"Are you gonna finally sleep today?" she asks once her body's tucked inside the sleeping cot.
"She's here," he nudges his chin towards you. "So — yeah."
That means he's been up for some reason. Probably has something to do with the mess you found in their trail. With the tension that's so obvious in the air. That fragile and thin layer of something unsaid — something big and sad that happened and dented the air around them. You'll find out soon enough.
"Good." Ellie gets a little more comfortable inside it. "You're a little annoying without your beauty sleep."
You snort at it — it's too hard not to.
Joel gives you a pointed look, and you still notice the little aura of pride inside Ellie's bag.
It takes an hour before you're finished organizing things to your liking.
The tidying up was a way to placate you. Being in Joel's presence again sent you into disarray, even if you'd been searching for longer than a week already.
When he seems to deem the silence good enough — or maybe it's Ellie's deep quietude and lack of movement — Joel speaks up.
"How long did you drive? And how often?"
You turn to him, securing the trigger on your gun. "Longer than ten hours. A few days."
"The car?"
You roll your eyes. "You really think that gorgeous blue pick-up's the only car Frank's fixed over the past decade?"
Joel only nods. "How bad was it? Our trail?"
At that, you pause. Take a moment to respond, swallowing down the knot of guilt and bitterness you convince yourself is inexistent. "Bad." Just like Joel ignores the idea of feelings and living, you ignore the bile in your throat due to death. Horrors. Things you do or see. "Really bad, Joel."
He sighs and looks down at his lap, slowly. "Fuck," he mutters. "Fucking hell."
"Yeah."
"How worried should I be?"
"Not that worried. Whoever was in charge seems to be gone — the group's a bit of a wreck and whoever sent those few guys to find you will have a lot of other priorities besides a man and a kid they never met, I think."
He takes a while to nod at that, reading between your lines for the first time since the re-encounter.
I took care of it.
No one was coming after him, or the kid. Not now, not ever.
Not as long as you breathed and had a saying in it,
Joel opens his mouth and closes it. He looks away from you to say, "I've been trying my best, but — it's fucking hard."
"Of course it is." And of course this mountain of a man would be blaming himself. "I wouldn't have been able to find you two without it, if I'm being honest, but — there were more people coming after you two than I anticipated. You both and a Sam and Henry?"
Joel's head snaps up, and there it is.
The reason behind that thick and slimy feeling around him and Ellie — the veil of something you were absent to witness but still could smell in the air.
"What happened?" you ask.
Joel looks over at Ellie's sleeping cot, sighing once more. "You wanna know just about them or... can I go from the start?"
"That'd be nice."
"Alright." So he starts from the top. From the day he and Tess left for the batteries and came back with a mission that was supposed to have them only for a few days, but instead, took her away from this Earth and pulled him miles away from the QZ and everything he knew for years.
Joel tells you everything, and while he speaks, all you can think of is how good he looks. How you can breathe now that he's here, and you hold onto that because if you think of the rest, you'll crumble. Like always.
Tess.
No— Joel tells you about their visit to Bill and Frank. You focus on that.
"There was one for me, too," you whisper.
Joel's moved to the same tree you're sitting under, finding comfort by your side. "One what?"
"A letter."
His shoulders stiffen. "Oh. That — makes sense. Frank really liked ya."
"I didn't read yours. Don't worry," you knew him well enough to know he liked his privacy.
Joel snickers. "Nothing in there you wouldn't know. Bill was a grump, they were happy in the end, and he told me I could get anything I wanted from the house to help keep my — mine happy."
"Damn. Being married kinda merges you, huh?"
"What d'you mean?"
"They sound kinda the same. Bill and Frank — or at least, their letters did. Frank told me that amidst all the disarray there's still a chance for luck, I should lean on my gut more 'cause it's always right, and I could get whatever I wanted."
Joel hums. "That's nice."
"Yeah. I, uh—I buried them." You hate how your eyes sting at the memory. You can feel Joel's eyes on you, so you turn to him. "They — from blood to earth. They deserve a full cycle."
The way he stares at you makes you wish you could read minds. Inside, your chest tightens with each detail you take note of him. The cuts and bruises do nothing to deter his beauty away.
Joel has that look of sharp edges and impenetrable walls, but his eyes are his doom — yours can barely look away from them all the time.
They carry everything.
The guilt, the missing, the hopes he wished to bury so many feet under, the uncertainty and fear that no one can escape.
You sit right next to him and listen to all of it, and when he's done, you wished you had the excuse to hug him again.
You wished you felt confident enough in what existed between you two before he left so that you could lean over and kiss him.
Offer him comfort.
All you can offer is, "Thanks." He's told you everything. He's tired. The bags under his eyes are deep. You wished you could run your fingers through his hair until he was fast asleep, like you did a few lucky times. "Get some rest. I'll sleep in the car tomorrow. 'm keeping watch."
Joel's out within two minutes of laying down.
Even though he secured his body on top of his right side, in ten minutes he rotates, turning his body to you.
You keep watch with a smile on your face.
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Women are... tricky.
Joel feels a little lost at first, and then it just amplifies.
When he wakes up, he can smell the food you've cooked already. You and Ellie are sitting side by side, talking — he breathes in deep and focuses his ear.
"...remember all that well, but it's not good when you do, too. I remember everything, and what good does it do?" you're saying.
Ellie's eating, slower than most times. "That makes sense. What was your favorite place to eat?"
"KFC. Fuck, I loved those wings so much."
Curiosities about the past she never got to witness. You were a much better source of information than him and he's happy Ellie's asking you. This way, she can get more than a few grumbled answers. He tunes out, and decides he can snooze for a few more minutes.
In the next two days, he's granted by the weirdness of what it's like to be outnumbered:
When you're in the car sleeping, Ellie asks about you.
Her first question, obviously, is: "So — I'm confused. I thought you and Tess were together? But now — I kinda think it's you and her? Oh my god, were you three a thing? Is that something adults do? Is it, like, allowed?"
Joel grips the wheel a little tighter and pushes down the desire to tell her to be quieter, damn it. "She's a light sleeper."
"Gotcha. Keep my voice down." In a lower tone, she repeats herself. "Was she your girlfriend?"
"No." Joel stayed out of the illusion one could have partners in this world.
"So it was you and Tess?"
"Also no."
"Dude, you can't lie on both fronts."
"Why does it matter?" he asks.
Ellie shrugs, shoving her face between both front seats. "It doesn't, not really—"
"Please, sit properly."
"—but like, curiosity might and definitely will kill me if you don't answer," she sits back, at least.
Joel sighs. Looks ahead of the road and remembers the smell of pages mixed with the innate scent of you. "We... were close."
"You and who?"
"First Tess. Didn't really work. But —," Joel points at you. "We did."
Ellie gasps, out loud. Joel has to suppress a stupid grin that wants to come out — he knows she's watching him from the rear mirror.
"You are so grumpy, how the hell did you get with her?"
All he does is shrug his shoulders.
Ellie sits in silence for a few seconds. "Why didn't you kiss her? When you saw her?"
Because I never wanted to do something so badly. I was terrified. I was never terrified before both of you showed me I still have reasons to.
He shrugs his shoulders again, and avoids looking to his side.
The sight of your neck always lured you in — drove him crazy.
Seeing it and missing how it smells is the last thing he needs.
Joel needs focus.
Too bad all he wants is to listen to you read.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ→ㅤㅤ →ㅤㅤ →
His brain was cursed by words she read not too long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime already. When you come back to him, Joel's hit with the notion—there was no denying what you were.
Girlfriend was such a silly word.
It sticks to his head when Ellie uses it, and he has to look away from your knowing eyes for the next two days to come.
Girlfriend is stupid. Neither you nor Tess were ever his girlfriend.
Tess was a partner. She was a friend, she was like family.
You... you were solace. Peace, and light.
There was no denying what you meant to him.
The words you read to him that never left his head are what he last thinks of before he falls asleep.
"Oh, the dead past that survives in me and that has never been anywhere but in me! The flowers from the garden of the little country house that never existed except in me! The pine grove, orchards and vegetable plots of the farm that was only a dream of mine! My imaginary excursions, my outings in a countryside that never existed!"
There are a few days ahead left of driving before you three can say you're close to your destination, and Joel cracks on a cold night.
After Ellie sleeps and you two clean up the weapons you found on the abandoned warehouse, he turns to you.
"Did you bring The Book of Disquiet?"
Your eyes widen at the question, brows going up in surprise.
"You want me to read to you?"
So she brought it. Joel smiles despite himself. "All I've had these past days were horrible puns. I could use a good readin'."
"You laugh at her horrible puns," you argue, and the smile's growing on your face too.
"So do you," he accuses.
"Yeah," you admit. "She might need to work on her delivery still, but some of them are quite good."
The book comes out from the confines of your backpack, and Joel wished he still saw that glint in your eyes when he was close by.
Flames dance in your eyes when he whispered too close to your ear before — that fire; he misses it like a lost limb. It could heat him better than whiskey, and he hasn't seen it since you arrived.
Still — your voice is good enough for him.
Even if Joel sleeps with the ache in chest; the itch to touch, to feel, to possess. He drifts close enough to feel your body heat, and lets the words brought to life by you to lull him into a deep rest.
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The Book of Disquiet ends, and you brought no others.
That means listening to more of Ellie's joke book. Telling Joel the short tales you have engraved in your memory. The jokes always come in a good time — you see in Joel a light coming on again when she draws the line for the first pun, and you imagine it must've been a while since he last heard it; Ellie tells only 'the best ones' as she likes to call, and some of them are actually worth it.
Hearing Joel laugh is a gift.
Nothing's ever just good. The cold arrives and with it comes real, pressing worries for your every day trip that go beyond the people and the clickers and, well, staying alive — things like the road, freezing to death, hypothermia.
Despite having all those things running daily marathons in your mind, most of your thoughts are interrupted with musings about is how fine Joel is. How warm he looks.
How warm you know he is.
The memory's not enough. In dreams, you're consumed by them. Joel licks the nape of your neck in your kitchen, presses you against tables, whispers filthy things in the middle of packed corridors; Joel in your dreams is the man you simultaneously wanted to run away from and make a nest of his lap at the same time.
Now, he's... different.
Ellie brings out in him the parts that you never got to meet.
You want to devour them.
Taste them at the tip of your tongue.
Joel's a father. It should be the furthest thing from hot, it should be anything other than attractive, but it is.
His stern looks at Ellie and the twists and turns in the road the lead him to being in charge, bossing the two of you around — every time you see the ghost of a man who once existed, all the instances where you catch a glimpse of Sarah's dad, you want to jump him.
It's ridiculous.
Two days after he asks you to read again, you crack.
It's nighttime and you've stopped at an abandoned barn to camp for the night. Hide from the cold. Rest, eat the canned food you found, rest.
All you can think about is him.
Your brain is a looping of JoelJoelJoelJoel, and even when you try to tear your eyes away, the magnetism of his presence pull them back.
You're trapped, and it takes only a few slips for him to notice.
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Wind is howling outside, and Joel thought he'd be out from the ache in his bones.
Instead, he's trapped.
The camping was set up inside yet another barn, and the only light came from the lamp sitting between him and you. Joel shared his thermos bottle of whiskey and coffee with back and forth, focusing on how the temperature rose in his chest.
He is so focused that when he notices, it's too late.
Your eyes.
Burning with enough flames to light a whole coast on fire — your eyes are trapped in his hands, following each inch of their movement as he fiddled with the coin, or moved the bottle from hand to hand.
You used to do that a lot.
It was the first thing he noticed about your attraction — Joel could deny the flirty remarks and the way he was the only fortunate bastard to get a smile out of you all he wanted, he could bitch about how it was far from his fault that he was the only guy decent enough for you to like among his group of friends back then, but the staring—no.
The staring closed the deal for him.
He caught it when he was playing the guitar, back then.
Now, you just seemed lost in a trance, and so, Joel was trapped.
Once again, like fly caught in a web, he was glued to you.
"Thought they'd lost their effect on you." The words drift with the wind, carrying his low voice.
When your eyes snap up, finding his, he knows you understood. There's another glance where you seem to shiver under your coat, and Joel swallows thickly. Memories flood his eyes, nose, tastebud.
'Like — fuck, your fingers feel so good, Joel, fuck!'
'So thick inside me — ohmygod. Please—yeah, around my neck, like that—'
'I can't shut up you know I can't fuckin' shut up, your dick's fuckin' perfect—gimme your fingers, please.'
"Don't think that's possible," you finally answer.
Joel dares to take another look. You're looking at every inch of him apart from his eyes, and it pains him. Before he left, Joel had his body wrapped around you tighter than your coat is right now, and there's distance between you now that he has no clue where it came from.
He nods. "Sure is." Moving them to look at their back and palm, he shrugs. "They're just — hands."
"They're one of my favorite parts about you, and you know that."
The words do something to him. They sink a hook in deep, deep waters. "There's a list?" He asks. His voice comes out all small and surprised.
You chuckle. "I mean..." you trail off, looking to the distance, then inside to where Ellie's asleep. "It's you. 'Course there is."
His brows furrow.
"There it is." Damn it, he thinks. "The permanent scowl."
Joel forces himself to breathe, relax. The ghost of your fingertip pressing on the part between his eyebrows, smoothing out the skin is what gets him to crack. To step out of the trap and into something more familiar.
He misses you, and pretending he can escape the reality that people start to matter whether he wants to or not is not happening, the same way that pretending he stopped feeling things never stood in the way of him going to your door at late hours of the night in search for your body heat and your mouth to kiss — not for distraction, or comfort, or release, but because he could think of nothing else.
Joel liked to touch you because ever since he did it, doing it again popped into his mind as often as the sun rose in the sky.
He gets up from his wobbly, weak chair, and takes a seat on the hard floor, grunting with the effort.
Fuck his age.
He sighs, and decides to just throw it out there.
He looks up until he finds your eyes, no matter if you'll look into his soul or not. "I'm sorry I've been distant. I can't — " no, not can't, "I don't want to even start thinking about what that one over there's doin' to my head," he points with a finger to the inside of the barn, "and when you arrived it just made it all so — fuckin'," he stops again, grunting with his lack of eloquence. "It's all so much bigger, y'know? With you here, I just—I'm never not scared now."
"Even when you're sleeping?"
Joel laughs, humorless. "When I sleep I either dream of Ellie gettin' shot 'cause I missed that day, or you gettin' bit 'cause you tried savin' one of us, so no, baby. Not even when I'm sleepin'."
"Joel."
"C'mere?" he asks. He pats his knees, and when you follow the gesture, Joel's knocked in his chest by the speed with which you get down from your chair and join him on the floor, straddling his lap in a second.
Everything becomes so much warmer.
Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. Your heels entangle together on his back, and Joel's never been more comfortable. Your weight brings him that — silence, and warm, liquid peace. He rests his head against your chest, feeling you wrap around him just as tight. Hugging him, rubbing your cheeks on his hair, and his face.
You two must look like a stupid sight — squeezing each other and acting almost like animals marking territory, but the permission for intimacy is too inviting. Too earnest, too needed.
It's only when you two sync up your breathing that you calm down.
Joel pulls back to look at your face, but you've buried your face in his neck.
"Baby," he calls.
"Shhh." You kiss his neck, humming in pure delight. Joel feels nothing other than solace. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time now.”
"Have you?"
"Yeah." Your squeeze around his middle says the words are true. "I—I really missed you."
He's unable to say the exact words, but — "Me too." He feels the tickling of your sharp intake of breath, and Joel plants a kiss on the part that he can reach — your temple, cheeks, the corner of your mouth. "'m sorry this is so dangerous."
"Don't be. I'm happy at least I'm here. 's less dangerous with someone else to help."
Only my heart suffers more. "Guess so." Joel's hand squeezes at your sides. "When we get to Wyoming, we can rest there for a few days before we head back to the QZ."
"I'd like that. I need that," you add with a laugh.
"Yeah." Joel cups your face in his hands, thinking all sorts of unholy things. "We can have some privacy there," his voice drops at the idea of it, and so do your eyes to his lips. Joel smiles.
"Yeah?" Your mind is exactly where his is. Joel feels it in the heat rising in your body. "I really miss that."
He gets close enough so that his face is brushing yours; the tip of his nose bumps on yours, then traces your cheeks. "You do, baby?"
"So much."
God, Joel missed the sound of you begging. The last time he was in a community living with you, he was young and stupid. He hated how young you were, how determined you posed and how slick your looks felt. He hated the way he was definitely not the only man interested.
He recalls all the other people who he let talk to you, and his grip around you tightens. "We haven't been back there in a while." Joel licks your earlobe, warranting a whimper. "I ain't gonna let those idiots hit on you anymore, you realize that, right?"
"Why no?" you taunt.
Joel growls deep in his throat, and grinds his pelvis against yours just for the effect — the gasp, and the air leaving your lungs. "Mine." All his. "That's why."
Instead of answering, you crash your lips against his in a starving way.
Joel barely has time to react, but when he comes to himself, responding is even better.
He kisses you for god knows how long.
Until his lips are red, swollen, spit-slick. Until he can feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, feel the slow and subconscious movement of your hips on his. Until you're whining, biting at his lips, opening up for him so good and pliant that it drives him a bit bad.
He kisses until there's no air in his lungs, and then he gets it all back by breathing on your neck, sucking bruises into it and licking them better.
It's only when all the missing is out of both of your systems that the kisses slow down.
They slow, but never stop. Joel makes out with you to make up for what it must be years without a single kiss.
The more he gets intimate with your sounds and the way you can melt and fit against him, the more Joel understands he's addicted, and now nothing will ever get this away from him.
He'd kill for a single kiss of yours.
A look. A smile.
Joel would kill for you, but more than that, and even more dangerous — it seems he's willing to live, too. For you. No matter the odds, or the ways this could go. He lets you cup his face into your hands, pepper kisses all over it, and whisper how happy you are to be here with him, all while thinking:
i'll live for her. i'll do anything, but most of all, i'll live.
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🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖
⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back. Just saying hehe.
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hiii can i pls request a smut prompt 3,4 and 13 with wooyoung? obsessed with ur writing <3
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ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #2
PAIRING: Dom! Wooyoung x F! Reader
CONTENT/WARNINGS: Degradation, edging, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f receiving), Mean! Wooyo
PROMPTS USED:
"How many rounds do you think you can go before you turn into a whiny mess"
"You wouldn't run your mouth like this when I egde you till you're digging your nails into the sheets and begging me like a bitch in heat."
"The more you beg for me to go faster, the slower I move to torture you."
Loud moans resonated throughout the room, your moans could be much interpreted like broken cries. Wooyoung's hand worked it's way slowly I side your cunt, curlimg up at the right times to bring you closer to your orgasm real quick – just for him to pull away at your pleas. He had a menacing smile on his face as he watched the way tears rolled down your eyes every time he pulled his hand an inch away from your cunt.
“Told you, you wouldn't be running your mouth when I edge you till you're digging your nails into the sheets and begging for me like a bitch in heat.” And you were indeed digging your perfectly done nails into the sheets while your babbled pathetically under him.
His hands yet again moved in between your thigh, one hand caressing your inner thigh while his other hand rubbed circles over your clit yet again. Your brain felt too mushy to even know how many orgasms you were denied for the night – but that didn't stop you from letting out a series of ‘faster’ and ‘please’.
Wooyoung’s free hand came up to cradle your neck softly, his plumpy lips pressing kisses softly mirroring his fingers who moved slower than ever in your abused hole. “The more you beg me to go faster, the slower I move to torture you, princess.”
His lips captured yours in a kiss right after, his fingers curling up at your G-spot causing you to moan into the kiss, your legs arching in pleasure. Pulling away, Wooyoung shot you an assuring smile, “Perhaps I should let my baby cum shouldn't I? You did so well for me babygirl.” Your hear almost skips a beat from his gentle tone, contradicting his actions the whole night.
His fingers instantly thrust faster inside you, and your orgasm washed over you within seconds. Your vision almost turns white from the intensity of your high that you barely notice Wooyoung buried his face in between your thighs.
A screams falls off your lips when you feel his tongue lick up a stripe of your throbbing lips, before completely latching his soft lips onto your clit. If you could comprehend the lewd noises filling the room from Wooyoung sucking harder on your clit – you would be beetred. But all you could do was grip the sheets harder as your back arched against the mattress.
Your thighs threatened to close around him if not for his hands pressing them down on the mattress. His tongue licks at you harshly, licking off your seeping slick. Your voice turned hoarse from the loud moans that left you, your hands finding home in between his long hair strands. Your hands tried to push him off weakly only for his hand to grasp your wrists tightly.
His tongue moved faster inside you, lapping at your juices. And within seconds you felt your second orgasm rush over you in split seconds. You yell out Wooyoung’s name resulting in a satisfied grin taking over his face as he pulled away. Your body writhed underneath his figure.
Your boyfriend let you take a few long breaths, leaning down to kiss butterfly kisses all over your stomach in order to solthe your nerves.
It was only for a while before your felt his thick fingers rubbing your sensitive bud again. “How many times do you think you can go before you turn into a whiny mess, darling?” His fingers invaded your pussy yet again, scissoring your warm throbbing walls as he kissed your inner thighs, biting a little to leave lovebites all over your thighs. Gosh will this be your longest night – but did you really mind?
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allzelemonz · 6 months
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Dare: The Van der Linde Boys X Male Reader
(Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire, Javier Esquella)
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Fictober Prompt: Day 17, Multi Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘fella’ and ‘man’, heavy masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: (have you ever been in a men’s locker room and things got a little weird), smut, background relationships, masturbation, hand jobs, kissing, oral sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, facial, cum swallowing, Micah being an asshole, flirting, casual sex, everyone is gay but especially Bill Summary: Drunk Sean wanting to get off prompts a dare to jerk off and last longer than anyone else at the fire. Gay chaos of a sort ensues.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Arthur nearly shrieks, his head turning away from a much drunker Sean.
“Oh, come on now, Englishman.” Sean giggles. “We’re all men here, ain’t no trouble at all, is it?”
His hand palms at the bulge in his pants. A bulge that has only now been noticed and has the rest of camp’s attention. Bill fixes his eyes for a few seconds before he looks away, shifting his legs nervously. You try to look almost anywhere else.
Sean grins. “Ya know what, fellas, I bet you I can get myself off ‘fore any a’ you.”
Micah scoffs. “We all heard yer whore goin’ off ‘bout how ya can’t last, cowpoke.”
Sean hisses, stilling his hand. “Fine, then I bet I can ‘least outlast a greasy arse of man like you.”
“What?” Javier grimaces. “You want us all to sit here with our dicks out?”
“Embarrassed, Mister Escuella?” Sean laughs, giving him wavy eyebrows.
“We’re not all gonna jerk off in front of each other.” You mutter. “That’s insane.”
Sean sits up, putting a falsely offended hand over his chest. “That ain’t fair, big man.” A grin grows over his face. “What if I dared all a’ ya?”
“A dare?” Charles mutters.
Sean proudly puts his hand over his bulge. “I dare each a ya ta last longer than the legend Sean MacGuire. An’ whoever lasts longest, I’ll give ya my share a’ the job.”
The men around the fire shuffle, some hiding their own erections, others simply uncomfortable. It’s just a handful of the young men here, sent out for a train job. Arthur stares into the fire, as does Charles, Bill glances all around as he tries not to look at anyone at all, Micah and Javier seem more insulted than anyone. A dare is an odd thing, often able to make a man do things he never would, stupid things at that. And one like this, as odd as it is, is almost a challenge to each one of your own masculinity. Everything about dicks is.
You assume that’s why it’s Micah that starts unfastening his pants first. “Fine.” He mutters.
And Javier follows, wordless. Then Bill, fumbling quickly. Sean flicks his eyes between the rest of you as he fishes himself out. You admit, confident in your manhood or not, a dare is a dare so you pull your dick out as well. Arthur grumbles something to himself, doing the same. Charles is the last, seemingly embarrassed and likely thankful that his complexion hides most of the heat in his cheeks unlike most of you.
“Alright.” Sean says proudly. “Everybody gives a good effort, whatever ya like, long as ya don’t stop. Huh?”
Nods follow, each man showing their nerves in little bits and averting their eyes as much as they can. Plenty of you have been naked in front of each other or just caught glimpses during a piss break, but it’s much odder with this context to see each other’s dicks in hand.
“Count a’ three then.” Sean grins. “One! Two…! Three!”
You lick your hand and wrap your fingers around yourself, focusing down on that sight as opposed to anyone else. You flick your wrist loosely, moving slow and trying to ignore how the shivers spread over you. If you were alone it wouldn’t be much stimulation, but knowing you’re surrounded by six other men makes it just a little more exciting.
When you chance a glance up you find shamelessly wandering eyes and slow strokes all around. Arthur’s face is flushed red as his eyes stare around, the most shame anyone has. Sean lets noise spill from him easily, his hand the first to move faster. He doesn’t last long past that, Micah laughing at him as he releases.
“Shit…” Sean sighs, staring down at the mess of his pants.
Some of the other men still, looking at the loser of the little competition.
“Well don’t stop on my account.” Sean says with a smile. “Winner gets my share a’ the job, remember?”
The slow strokes continue.
Sean looks around for a moment before you see a grin spread over his face as he tucks himself away. “‘a course, that don’t mean I can’t play favorites.”
“The hell’s that mean?” Bill mutters.
Sean stands, slowly making his way over to Micah. “Ain’t like ya need the money, do ya?”
Micah eyes the Irishman warrily, but makes no move to stop him from dropping to his knees. Sean shocks everyone around the fire when he takes Micah in his mouth. Micah hisses, moving his hand out of Sean’s way and into his tangled red hair. Bill gasps next to you, his eyes fixed on the sight. You look away, the thought of Sean’s share of money paying for a nicer saddle or something keeping you restrained. Micah caves, gripping Sean’s hair and fucking into his mouth until he releases.
Sean coughs and splutters, swallowing most of the cum before he can pull himself away. “Least…” Sean spits. “Least  you ain’t winnin’, ya lousy arse. When’s the last time ya wash that little thing a’ yours anyway?”
Micah scowls at him, tucking himself away. “You wanna play rough, MacGuire, fine.”
It’s like a cloud of hated lust washes the sense from everyone, both Micah and Sean moving to a target they don’t want winning.
As Arthur glares at Micah, Sean smirks. “New rule, boys. Ya get picked by somebody that’s out, ya gotta let ‘em try fer at least a minute.”
“That’s stupid.” Arthur mutters, eyeing Micah as the blond smirks down at him.
“Only fair, Morgan.” Micah says. “I ain’t gonna be the only fool that got out on a technicality.”
Arthur grumbles, but doesn’t stop Micah from gripping him and stroking furiously. Your heart skips when Sean’s eyes meet yours and he takes a few steps forward.
“No hard feelings, big man, Bill said he’d buy me a drink.” Sean snickers as he drops to his knees in front of you.
You shudder when he touches you, your hot skin buzzing at his cool fingers. But before you can blink, his mouth has engulfed your entire length. Sean is far too good at this. He bobs his head and you will yourself not to give in for the minute he has.
Across the fire, Arthur shoves Micah away. “Ya had yer chance, sick bastard.”
Micah grunts, wiping his hand on his pants before turning to Bill and starting his process again. Bill moans at the touch, struggling not to buck up into Micah’s hand. You’ve lost track of Sean’s minute, but he wasn’t far behind Micah so you shove at his shoulder.
“Better luck next time.” You say, your voice shaking a bit as you replace your hand.
Sean grins up at you, whispering. “Hope ya win.”
Likely because he’s losing his promised drink with the way Bill is shutting under Micah’s touch. Just as Sean reaches Javier to tease, Bill releases with a gasp. Micah grins to himself but you catch it, you also notice how he doesn’t stop as Bill shakes but instead strokes him through it.
“Get Morgan.” He mutters.
Bill nods, sweat covering his face. Micah straightens himself and glances between you and Charles, opting for you after a few seconds.
“Sorry, cowpoke.” He mutters. “Just rather touch you than him.”
“Fuck off, Micah.” You say through gritted teeth.
Micah smiles at you as he sits down next to you, leaning close as his arm wraps around your waist and his hand closes on your dick. “That ain’t any way ta talk. I’m ‘bout ta get ya off, ain’t I?”
For as much of an ass as Micah is, he’s good at this. Your mind wanders, picturing all the times you’ve seen Micah by the fire cleaning his guns. His fingers wrapped around the barrel as he drags the cloth over the metal.
“Shit!” You gasp.
Micah’s hand feels better than Sean’s mouth did, fast and furious strokes making you have to stop yourself from squirming. A low groan from Javier takes him out as he fills Sean’s throat, the Irishman not pulling off like he did with Micah and choosing to swallow it all this time. Only a moment later, Arthur mutters a curse as he releases onto Bill’s face and dirties the man’s beard. He mumbles an apology as Bill grumbles about it, both of them blushing deeply.
“Alright, alright.” Sean says. “Let’s give our finalists a chance.”
Micah leans a little closer as he takes his hand back. “Win this, cowpoke.”
You shutter as his breath hits your neck.
Sean grins. “Hands away now, boys! Take a breather.”
Charles pulls his hand back, resting it on his thigh as he eyes the group. You swallow thickly, still feeling all the heat from Sean and Micah’s attempts. Charles hasn’t even been touched once, he has the advantage.
“How should we do this, boys?” Sean asks, turning to the group of losers. “Let ‘em keep at it, help ‘em out?”
“This is stupid.” Arthur grumbles.
Bill is too occupied with trying to get the cum out of his beard to answer.
Javier is still catching his breath from his orgasm.
Micah shrugs.
“Fine.” Sean grins. “I’ll be the judge ‘ere. Javier an’ Bill.” He points to you. “Ya work on ‘em an’ Arthur an’ Micah get Charles.”
No one moves for a moment. You look over and share a sympathetic look with Charles.
Sean groans. “Come on, boys! Have a little fun… I’ll buy a round a’ drinks.”
It’s enough to get Bill at your side, Javier follows as Micah and Arthur go to Chalres.
“Alright, count a’ three.” Sean grins, rubbing his hands together like the schemy little shit he is. “One, two…three!”
Bill goes straight for your dick, wrapping his big hand around it and stroking almost as well as Micah. You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on lasting. It becomes infinitely harder when Javier’s hand dips below Bill’s and finds your balls still tucked in your pants. He leans in close, whispering a mix of English and Spanish in your ear and you know well enough that every word is dirty even though you try to tune it out. You can hear Micah snickering in the distance and take it as a good sign, he’d be the type to laugh at Charles getting off and losing. Bill’s other hand wanders up your chest and squeezes at your pecs briefly before he winds it under your shirt and feels at your skin. Javier’s other hand finds your jaw and his fingers trail as he turns your head. Your eyes peek open in time to see him smirk, then he kisses you as his hand squeezes at your balls firmly.
With their hands all over you, you can’t hold it anymore. It’s like a burst. The waves hit you hard and you spasm as you cum over your pants. Bill strokes you through it, his other hand gentle as it settles on your waist. Javier muffles whatever odd little noises you would have made, trailing off in smaller kisses before he stops. You open your eyes to look at him and he kisses your cheek with a wink. The three of you look over at the competition. Micah is stroking furiously, as he did with the others he tried to sabotage while Arthur kisses Charles’s neck and a hand plays with his nipples under his open shirt. Charles won, he hasn’t cum yet.
“Damn it.” Bill grumbles, glancing at you. “Was hopin’ you’d win.”
“Your fault.” You reply, breath still not quite back in your lungs.
Bill blushes. “Sorry, got, uh, caught up…”
“‘s alright…” You slur, head spinning still.
Sean doesn’t say a word to stop anything, holding a finger to his lips to silence any of you from alerting them. It’s only fair. Charles holds strong, though he seems to enjoy it when Arthur kisses him properly as his hand grips the other’s hair and holds him in place. Micah, never one to like losing and still unaware of his sealed fate, takes Charles in his mouth. Javier has to clap a hand over his lips to keep a laugh from alerting them. All of you sit in shock, never expecting Micah to suck off a man he berates on a daily basis even for the sake of winning some silly competition.
Charles’s hips buck and Micah moans when his hair is gripped and his mouth is used. His hands do nothing to stop it, only wandering over Charles’s thighs as he’s used. It only takes a minute after that, Charles’s hips stutter and he holds Micah flush to him as he releases. Arthur continues to kiss him and Micah is held in place despite his squirming until Sean clears his throat.
“Ya won, boys.” He grins. “Unless ya wanna keep goin’.”
Micah shoves himself away, falling back on his ass as he spits and coughs. Charles watches him, smiling for a moment before pulling Arthur closer and continuing.
“Alright then…” Sean turns to you and your saboteurs. “Anybody else all cheeky now?”
Bill grumbles something, standing and going over to Micah. He grips the smaller man by his collar, yanking him to his feet and shoving him towards the little collection of tents.
Sean has his eyebrows raised when he turns back, but he grins. “I ain’t gonna lie, I seen them hidin’ in the trees a couple times.”
“So you made us all get each other off?” Javier smirks, his arm draping around your shoulders. “Lousy move, cabrón.”
“I didn’t make ya do a thing ya didn’t wanna.” Sean crosses his arms. “It ain’t my fault you boys all wanted ta fuck each other.”
You sigh, remembering to tuck yourself away and glancing over to the winning fools. They’re nowhere to be seen. “They sneak off?”
“Suppose they did.” Sean chuckles. “Filthy sods.”
Javier waits a beat before turning to you. “Seems like everyone else is having a good time tonight. You wanna?”
Before you can answer, Sean whines. “Ya gonna leave me out? I’m the one that got ya started!”
“You’re taking then.” Javier mutters.
Sean grins. “Happily.”
You shake your head, sighing. “Fine, I guess.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy me, cariño.” Javier whispers, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
You hang your head, smiling softly. “Shut up, Escuella.”
He tugs at your arm as he stands, pulling you with him.
The fire light dies down over the course of the night. Faint, muffled moans and whimpers can be heard if you really listen, but it’s mostly that distinct sound of skin hitting skin that echoes well into the night. Some of you can’t walk in the morning, very much complicating the robbery and no one knows how you all are going to explain the failure to Dutch.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 6 months
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Day 15: morning after
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Here I need to make a clarification. As you know, English is not my first language and from what I was able to research about this day's prompt it was like "a morning after doing something you might regret" or "a morning with a hangover", so that's what I wrote about. It's honestly my favorite (and the longest) so far and I hope you like it, reblog or tell me in the comments if you do!
Masterlist flufftober 🎀
tw: mention of alcohol, implied smut, nudity, stuff like that (but everything is fluff!)
The first thing Spencer felt when he woke up was the stab of pain shooting through his head, followed by the sun streaming through the window gently warming his body. Everything was spinning for him and he didn't even remember how he got to his apartment the night before, because as a birthday gift the whole team had decided to take him to a bar and somehow, they had managed to completely intoxicate him with alcohol.
He had drunk before but not to that level, so it was the first time he had experienced a hangover of that magnitude. He tried to get up as slowly as possible and once he was sitting on the edge of the mattress he sighed and rubbed his face with both hands to wake up a little. As his vision cleared, he could make out the floor of the room and opened his eyes wide when he noticed a piece of clothing that was definitely not his: a pair of black lace panties. He scanned the rest of the place and also found a matching bra and dress, and his surprise was even greater when he turned on the mattress to find a female body covered by a thin sheet.
The memories of him hit him worse than the hangover and suddenly all his blood rushed to his face. The night before, when he had begun to feel the effects of alcohol, everyone seemed to become lighter, so when a beautiful woman approached to talk to him, he didn’t hesitate to respond to the chat. Even Derek was surprised at how charming his friend was when he wasn't worried about what people thought of him, and it was a good thing the girl enjoyed hearing interesting facts about absolutely anything. If Spencer had ever read about flirting tips that was the moment he applied them and no one was surprised when the birthday boy was dragged to the back of the bar, to probably be kissed like never before in his life.
He remembered that after making out in the dark you had asked if you could accompany him somewhere more private and he had naively offered his apartment. The images of what had happened made him feel completely ashamed and at that moment he hated his eidetic memory a little, because he could see over and over again your trembling body on top of his and hear the noises with which both of you had filled the room.
He had never done anything like that in his life and he didn't even believe he was capable of sleeping with a girl he had just met, probably for fear of not being good enough or of contracting some kind of disease. But, luckily, he searched his mind and realized that neither had happened and the evidence of a metal wrapper on the nightstand calmed him down.
He almost jumped out of his seat when he felt you shifting on the mattress and turned around immediately so as not to risk you catching him looking at you or, worse yet, seeing your naked body.
“Hey,” he heard behind you, your voice slightly raspy, and he tensed completely when he felt your hand caress the skin of his back “Good morning.”
“Huh… hello,” he replied, still not looking at you. Total nervousness could be heard in his voice and you wanted to believe that it wasn't out of regret, or else your heart would have broken a little.
"Are you okay?"
“Yes,” he replied quietly. He gathered his courage and turned slightly in your direction, only to find your soft, worried eyes looking down at him “And you?”
“A little sore, but everything is fine”
Your smile was sweet and your face was so cheerful that Spencer feared he had slept with a teenager. But it wasn't like that, it was just that God had blessed you with natural beauty even with the after-effects of drunkenness and traces of smudged makeup.
"I am glad to hear that"
He couldn't see you bite your lower lip because he was too distracted by the reddish mark on your shoulder that he had left last night and you interpreted his distracted attitude as clear disinterest, without imagining that there was a whole revolution of emotions inside him. 
You moved under the covers and when you got out of bed Spencer looked away, as if he wanted to respect your privacy by avoiding seeing your nakedness. With some embarrassment you began to look for your clothes throughout the room to put them on, ready to leave the place with the little dignity you had left. But when you sleep with the most handsome guy in the bar, those are things you take risks, right?
“Well, I guess I’ll go,” you said shyly, holding your bag close to you “It was nice meeting you.”
"Wait!" He stopped you almost immediately, not allowing you to go too far “I'm being rude, excuse me. “It's just… I'm not used to doing this much.”
“Oh, no, no, I don't either. Don't think I'm..."
"No! I wasn't suggesting that either," he continued, feeling like every time he spoke he was only making everything worse "It's just that yesterday he was really drunk and... well, I'm a little surprised at how things turned out."
“And did they end well or badly?”
“Well, or so I think,” he responded quickly. He wanted to tell you that he had loved the way you kissed him if it would take the worried look off your face, but the truth was that he didn't even know if he could say the words without feeling nervous. “What I want to say is that I hope I was… good.” 
“You were” you express him sincerely. If he had told you that he was inexperienced in the area you wouldn’t have believed him at all “I hope you can say the same about me.”
"Yeah. I'm just worried that we were too drunk."
“So drunk that you would do something you regret?”
“No, more like having forced you to do something that you regret”
So that was his fear of it? That caught you a little off guard, as you didn't know if it was for fear of legal reprisals or if he was really caring about your integrity. From the gentle way he said it and the expression with which he looked at you, you wanted to believe it was the latter, after all he seemed like a good man and nothing in the apartment looked dangerous. I mean, most of the things that were out there were books and science objects, nothing that screamed get out of here or I'm a jerk. 
“Don’t worry, I think we both had fun,” you reassured him. “I thought I heard something about it being your birthday, is that true?”
"Yes, it was"
“I hope I didn't ruin it,” you murmured, sounding honest, because your judgment was too clouded the night before to react coherently.
Of course you hadn't ruined his birthday, how could you? You were a pretty girl who had spent the night with him and now that Spencer was looking at you more closely, he realized how lucky he had been that someone like you had set her sights on him.
“You don't have to leave if you don't want to,” he added, trying his luck a little. “If you allow me to change, we can get something for breakfast and… chat.”
“Do you want to do that?”
“It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to just throw you out of my apartment, would it?” He replied and your brow furrowed in disbelief. That man was seriously strange, but in the good sense of the word “I'm Spencer Reid, by the way.”
"I know who you are. You told me last night,” you laughed, a little moved by the shyness he suddenly seemed to have, very different from his behavior at the bar.
"So? You will stay?"
You remained silent and analyzed your options. You never imagined that the man would ask you to stay after what you thought would be your first one-night stand, yet you had ended up in that situation.
"Yes, I will”
“Cool,” he sighed, putting on the sweetest smile you had ever seen.
Was this boy real or had you entered into a hallucination?
“I’ll wait for you… huh… outside, okay?” a part of you wanted to listen to your own words, but suddenly the other felt the urge to do something, impulsive and stupid like everything you had done the night before. “But first, can you allow me to do something?”
“Sure, what is it about?”
You didn't respond verbally, but instead took a few steps in his direction and finally crashed your lips into his, hearing him let out a moan of astonishment. Now that you felt soberer you realized that kissing him was pleasant and you hadn't just thought about it because of the effects of the alcohol.
“I just wanted one more, in case my conversation ends up boring you and we never see each other again” you exclaimed playfully, without giving him time to respond because before he could react you had already jumped on tiptoe towards the exit.
He smiled when he saw that and began to pick up the clothes scattered on the floor, willing to get to know your mind better after having explored so many places on your body.
While he was getting dressed he thought that, for the first time he had brought a stranger home, things were looking great.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger
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satocidal · 7 months
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Jealousy Jealousy” — Geto Suguru
Synopsis:- He dislikes you and you dislike him, rather simple an ordeal—except it’s not. Not when you’ve got one bed to share and your rival is Jealous for your attention—not when he can’t get enough of hearing your moans.
— word count:- 7.7k words ||Masterlist||
— A/n:- I wouldn’t consider myself a writer if I didn’t write a “rivals to lovers x one bed” trope so here it is. Poor jelly Suguru who’s also a little nasty but we like em like that. Au! Where Suguru doesn’t leave btw. Also smut starts after a long while💀
— Tw:- !Porn with Plot!MDNI!AFAB! Reader x Geto Suguru; perverted suguru!+perverted ex(?) hints at masturbation (both male and female); cursing (a lot of it); use of sex toys; geto is a thief (lmao); geto calls reader “doll”; spanking; dom! Geto to sub! Geto and then back to dom! Geto; oral (m and f receiving); pussy spanking; implied blackmailing
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Kyoto and Tokyo.
Housing the two sister schools, they also housed three of the strongest sorcerers. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto and you—and irony lay bare that two of you did not like each other.
At all.
Insufferable he’d call you and exasperating you’d bounce back. And that was all their was to it—for the longest time and that’s what you two showed as well.
An eye roll here and a prodding middle finger there, you couldn’t even remember a time when you’d actually said “hi,” to him—considering your first meet was at the Goodwill event during a round.
So your annoyance was all too understandable when you walked into Principal Yaga’s room to find him lounging on the couch—ears stuffed with his earphones listening to shit you never liked.
“Yes sir?” You prompted, taking a seat across the man while Suguru didn’t even do so much as look at you.
Idiot.
“There’s a mission,” his eyes closed in on yours, “before you begin, don’t,” he was quick to add—“He’s already agreed to it and it has been decided that you two are the best suited for it. I will take no further questions.”
You find yourself raising a brow—no further questions? And he obliged?
“Why?” You asked regardless—“there are perhaps a hundred better pairs than us—why?”
“Your grade, your promotion and his to special grades depends on it,” the old man answered quietly, all too aware that his piercing gaze worked much better to shut you down than his words—“Now, any and every arrangement has been made. I just need you two to leave by tomorrow morning,”
Tomorrow morning? You could feel the gears in your brain turning fast—you would’ve asked more questions too, had the silly little Ijichi not dropped by, nervous and clammy, “Sir?” He’d called out—“You’re needed in the grounds…” voice timid, thoughts perhaps more so but nothing compared to your form left alone with Suguru Geto.
A silence.
Long silence.
“Why did you say yes?” You let out finally, frustrated to have that question knaw at your mind so long— only to be answered by another silence. Of course, he would play you just about now of all times.
You found yourself gritting your teeth— feet moved up close, his eyes staring at you all the same— “well?” You questioned again.
An eye roll passed, a sigh escaped, “Don’t go about getting ideas princess- I’m not keen of doing it with you but a promotion is promotion nonetheless. You should be glad you’ve got me helping you around,”
“Excuse you?” Your words very quick—sharp, “you’ll help me around?” You barked out a chuckle, “Don’t you go around being the princess with ideas Geto—much rather be helped by pigs than you,”
“Because pigs are the ones saving your ass every mission?” He quirked a brow—“Implication being you’re equable to pigs?” You smirked.
Your smirk only widened as he exhaled sharply, “Listen,” he began, “I want that promotion and so do you. The least we can do, for this one time is help each other. It’s a mutual goal, don’t fuck this up,”
You stared at him.
A brow raised, thoughts ran quick as you scanned his face—annoyance settling deep inside for his too stood sharp—“Fine,” you muttered, “For the mutual goal it is.” You heard him sigh—in relief? Mayhaps.
It was his turn to smirk now, “My my, she’s actually thinking this time—miraculous—”
“—Shut up,” you interrupted his words, “What exactly is the mission?”
He gazed at you quietly, “Hm, well, simple really. Someone like you—”
“—what is it?”
“Information extraction, and a side thing for this local deity who’s apparently a special grade. That’s theoretically all,” he paused, frowning, “it’ll take efforts,”
Your eyes narrowed up at him— “Don’t worry—I’ll figure it out.” He mumbled to nobody in particular.
You found yourself scrunching your face up at him, ��Does it turn you on or something? To act like you’re the best?”
“I am,” he grinned,
“At being an idiot,” you added—“and it turns you on at least,” a wink he passed with that—your gag followed next.
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What Suguru wanted, Suguru got.
Never a question about, never an objection either—you should’ve known.
“Let’s just call it a night Geto,” your voice bleak, tired—“So what if it’s shady? I know the owner,”
His eyes trained themselves upon you carefully, “It’s a fucking brothel y/n,” he paused, “and I know it’s well past 12 and you’re tired but pull yourself up a bit—”
“—I can even land us a discount,” whiny, your brows furrowed you pouted.
A grumble and a sharp exhale- Suguru didn’t do so much as grunt as he tossed you over he shoulder- silencing your yelp as he shushed you, “I’ll carry you- lead the way,” evident with his voice, he was tired and so were you.
You grinned and squealed internally, softly whispering directions in his ears as he lead the way through the foreign state.
You watched, and watched—eyes wandering onto his bun- the one he’d hurriedly made to help the heat, onto his fingers which held you close—grip tight to make sure you wouldn’t fall—it was embarrassing sincerely to be paraded around such but maybe, just maybe, with him, you liked it.
“Where the fuck is it?” A grunt- you smiled bashfully- “Think we walked past it some 5 blocks ago—” a giggle fell off your lips, his fingers pinched your sides- never playfully.
“The fuck are you-” an eye roll, an inhale, “you know what? Amazing,” and just with that he jogged back- the path retraced wher you came from, the shy pointing from the kids once again.
Five extra minutes you cause him, searching for the hotel- or brothel as Suguru deemed it—“Is this it?” Both your eyes watching the multi-story building in front of you.
It wasn’t half as bad as you’d thought it’d be—pretty decent, Suguru realised.
“You’ve called the owner?”
Before a ‘yeah’ could fall off your lips—clammy fingers gripped your waist—“Y/n!” A voice boomed, the owner- an old ex of yours.
Face flushed you faced him, “Oh hey,” you mumbled hesitantly, “Long time Hm?”
The man in front of you only smiled wide—a creep, Suguru muttered under his breath—sliding a firm handshake for the sake of formality.
Your ex chuckled- unsettling, “And this is your new man huh?” Your face flushed- Suguru’s did too— but he held his own—eyes narrowing at his words.
You however, chuckled nervously—and when you’d told Suguru you knew the owner, he thought, he never should’ve listened to you.
“Not uh…” you looked down, “not boy-friend—just uh, just—” you move to face him, a silent plea for help—“Colleagues,” he nodded.
“Just colleagues, yeah,” a nod you passed- relieved just a little.
The second guy only ever raised his brows, “Sure,” he smirked—“Come inside,” he ushered- hand, suguru noticed, too close on your back.
-
“Don’t tell me,” His face hidden behind his palm he spoke, “You said you knew him,”
“I do!” You prompted, helplessness evident in your voice—“He’s forcing you to fuck him,” Suguru’s expression a deadpan.
Your shoulders dropped-“He’s not…forcing me,” you bit your lip—“The only other option is us sleeping together geto,”
His eyes widened incredulously, “And that’s what you should choose—far more safe,”
You stared—of course you couldn’t sleep next to Suguru—not when—just no.
He sighed—“Really are an idiot,” you groaned internally- for the first time, agreeing with him, “Be glad I’m literally next door—call me at any moment that pervert-”
“-Geto!”
He shrugged—a fact was a fact nevertheless.
-
And now you lay awake, still, motionless in the cramped bed—so close.
So close the man’s body lay, the one you used to know all so well—the one which disgusted you now.
“Y/n,” he called for the nth time—your mind getting all too hazy to answer—fuck was that his hand on your thigh?
Mind a mess, eyes barely open and jaw slack- you got up, not a word—none at all as you pushed your way through the room.
A knock—and then two more.
He was fast to open the door, a glass of wine in hand, brows raised in amusement—“And I was correct?”
Rage all over you, a hand pushed him away—“Shut up,” his brows only ever raised higher.
“Bother me with a drink?” It didn’t sit as much of a question — a glass poured for you all too soon as you settled on his couch.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, grabbing it with both hands, fingers you found to be shivering a little too much.
Eyes narrowed, he watched you, taking a seat beside you, “Pray tell,” he began, “Did he say something? A fight between the lovers?”
A hint of jealousy did you catch? No- of course not.
You played with your silence, and his mind—just guilty eyes meeting his, as you sipped.
“Don’t tell me,” he whispered and you pin point a sudden anger inside—“Geto,” you mumbled, “it’s fine,” you but your lip.
Suguru’s brows furrowed, it most definitely wasn’t, surely you knew that—right?
A sigh left your lips—“Sit down please,” your fingers tapped the place beside you. He nodded simply- taking a seat beside you quietly, closer to how he usually would.
Another sip—“will you just sit here or…” his words were quiet, an initiative to not make you uncomfortable, more than you already were.
“This was the reason we uh,” you paused, eyes boring into the ply wood, “back when we broke up you know,”
Another nod- nothing to offer and when you didn’t say anything else, he tilted his head, “That’s it?” You snorted.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t a 3 hour documentary,”
“Thank everyone it isn’t, I was afraid I’d have to hug and comfort you and all,”
“Disgusting,” and you both chuckled—settling into your seats. Maybe someday you’d open up more onto your ex to Suguru, something in his eyes told you that you could. But as of now, just sipping on the off-brand wine seemed alright.
In a momentary silence you two sat in, nothing too comfortable but nothing otherwise either—until a moan was heard.
Your eyes snapped to him and his to you—a bewildered “What?” Spilling from both.
You’d have asked ‘did you just moan’ had the series of moans and grunts not continued and instantly, all too clear it was.
You see, the brothel had walls paper thin—pitiable were the customers of course—and this specific night, the both of you.
“Isn’t it your room?” Suguru questioned—a chuckle included, “What the hell,” you responded back- disgust prominent on your expressions.
Another chuckle, and another until the both of you sat there giggling all together- “If that’s how he fucked you, i am very sorry,” he grinned, “no wonder you used to be so frustrated all the damn time,”
Your jaw fell first, “Shut up?” You laughed, “Was not frustrated at all,”
“Nu uh doll, pent up sexual frustration is very real—I’ve seen it in Yaga and Gakuganji-”
“-Don’t you dare compare me to him,” your voice was shrill- now above the grunts in the room beside yours—shriller than the pathetic moans your ex was paying the girl to make.
And just so, two hours the two of you spent together- shy glances and touches shyer still- but enjoyable nonetheless.
It wasn’t the first night you’d drunk together, no, and such nights were always different—the grimaces that Suguru and you wore around each other during the day were always thrown away—smiles and grins, hidden glances and soft touches—nothing more, nothing less.
It was true that you guys barely ever talked when drunk—but it was all too obvious. But tragedy lay in the way you would simply forget, you would too and he would just the same. The nights were spent flamboyant, silly flirts and sillier jokes—all means to just adore each other As to what Satoru would call it.
Shoko on the other hand called it your idiocy, the sheer annoyance masked her expressions everytime she’d watch Suguru and you tumble around each other the next morning—as if the night before never happened.
Two hours spent laughing— every once a while Suguru would gaze at you, you’d do the same. It wasn’t ever weird, no.
If respectful could be the word to define any sort of staring, that would be how you did it.
Were curses and insults only thing to befall both your conscious mind and lips for each other? Yes. Would you two actually bare your life for each other? Satoru and Shoko had always guessed a definite yes.
And just so, flitting eyes captured between his, soon jumped to his clock—“It’s 12 already,” you mused, his eyes never leaving your face—“I should head back,”
“To that pervert?” He shot instantly, “Had he been good at sex I’d understand but he’s toxic, perverted and finished in 5 minutes—bet he didn’t even get the whore to cum,”
A drunk gasp escaped you as you smacked his thigh laughing—“You’re so drunk,” you mumbled, head lolling to the side, only to end up on his shoulder—it fit perfectly.
His eyes gazed down at you, “You’re drunk too- don’t go to him. Sleep here tonight,” and had you been conscious you’d certainly have fought the idea- ‘I can defend myself’ you’d have retaliated, which you of course could’ve but not like this. Not in your drunk state.
For the saying goes all too true, drunken words are sober thoughts.
So you nodded pliantly, head resting on his shoulder still, you nodded while he watched.
So close- just a mere inches and you could—just a little more booze and perhaps.
He noticed a lot in this position, your tinted lips—the warmness of your breath and body—your messy hair and insignificant attempts to not stare at his lips—he found you adorable.
“C’mere,” he called as he slowly got up- careful to not cause you discomfort, “you can sleep on the bed,”
“And you?”
A side-shrug he passed, “I’d be no better a pervert if I crept in beside you, you know,”
“It’s your bed,” subtle desperation- his drunk mind couldn’t catch —“I’ll be fine,” and just sometimes you had to curse the gentlemen to be all so gentle.
“Night,” you muttered as a yawn went past you- eyes following his form, tidying up his room to sleep on the couch you two just sat on—“G’night idiot,” he muttered back.
And in your sleep you wouldn’t realise of the little hurt he lay down with—choosing that scum over Suguru? Thoughts such replayed in his mind over and over; he was simply aching, for your touch and feel—drunk words were a sober man’s thoughts but what of the drunk thoughts never spoken aloud?
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The morning came by fast- rays bright enough to break off your slumber, you let a yawn pass by.
Usually, a surprise would’ve caught you, to find yourself in his bed but somehow- just for once, last night didn’t lay forgotten — last night’s memory embedded in the corners of the room with empty bottles lying around—suguru’s short tossed on the couch as you heard the hum of a shower.
Unsure of the prospects, you lay just there- enveloped in the certain warmth of the duvet- until the water stopped.
The door opened swift, and to mock the gravity of situation, you close your eyes in the pretence of sleep—and you were partially glad you did for soon enough the soft thud of a towel falling entered your ears—naked Suguru stood, the view shielded only by your eyelids—embarrassment yours grew.
And in that moment, you fought hard to not open your eyes- the scent of his body wash all too inviting—citrus? You made a not to tease him on that later.
“You can stop pretending, I’m decent now,” your face grew warmer—you maintained your silence.
An annoyed exhale he let out—“When I call you dumb, instances like these are exactly what I’m referring to doll,”
You scoffed- “For someone who has the audacity to walk in like that, butt-naked, you shouldn’t talk at all,” your act let go just a second after his words.
You got up from the bed—yawning and stretching, Suguru’s eyes trailed up your form as your loose shirt lifted slightly along your hands—“The water’s warm right now- might as well go shower,”
You scrunched your face, “In your shower?” Before you could add further argument, “Your other option is simply that fucker,” and you knew he’d won the argument again.
“My clothes aren’t here,” a last resort you had and you grabbed on it desperately- he tossed you a clean towel, and one of his shirts—“You can wear these inside, I’ll just go grab your luggage right now,”
You rolled your eyes- he was relentless, stubborn entirely too much and you shook your head, having no option but to comply.
-
Suguru was quick—all too quiet as he slipped into the room beside, a musky scent heavy in the room.
In bleak darkness he reached out his hand, to pick up what he assumed to be your luggage—lips turning to gag instantly when his fingers felt something slimy on it. Each and every plan to annoy your ex left his mind quick as a disgusted suguru quickly picked up the bag beside the mess he’d touched already- rushing outside, back into his room.
A sigh left his lips—disgust painted over his face as he wiped his fingers with a napkin—the other hand settling down your bag—oddly heavy, and prodded out at certain angles, his interest was piqued.
Curiosity, he blamed it upon- focused fingers reaching out to zip open your bag- he knew it was wrong but then…something told him, deep down, you wouldn’t mind.
He heard the water falling come to a stop- he’d be quick anyways, hefty fingers reaching inside your bag—suguru felt so bad but a smile guilty adorned him all the same, especially when his fingers came in contact with the silky fabric of your panties—red? he grinned.
Fingers prodded deeper still, products of your daily use coming in his hand until finally he found it—aha! His grin widened, fingers slowly pulling out the little toy in hand.
And shame would befall you all too deep for in his hands was your pink little vibrator—he chuckled—how pathetic, and on a mission? All the more. Suguru’s thoughts raced, faster than ever—dirty, he felt in the best way possible until a sudden voice managed to creep to his ears.
A moan- again, different from last night—the source being all too different too.
From the bathroom he realised, face contorting to one of amusement as he thanked this time, the brother for having walls paper thin.
And as his fingers stuffed your items back in—pocketing the vibrator and leaving a single note in your bag, to be found hours later. Just so he was done—material worth stealing in his pocket and ears pressed against the door as he listened intently, finally the a moan of his name falling from your lips.
Thus he found, it truly was nothing more than that sweet little cry of his name from you that made him all so hard every argument, with your face so close to his- flushed red with annoyance—it was amusing really, of how you threatened to kick his ass while all he could think about in moments such was to pin you hard against the wall and pound yours.
-
Your fingers moved onto close the shower- assuming the thud of the door to be a sign of suguru leaving—a sigh escaped you as you propped yourself down into the bathtub.
Your fingers worked quick—you had to be, for Suguru could be back whenever and the last thing you wanted was for him to hear you such—and you let your head fall back- fingers quick to gather the slick around your slit.
It was simply desperate, you supposed, the way the thought of seeing him naked got you all so worked up—his scent and the prospect of wearing his shirt.
But a mind so restless could only be helped so much—the inkling of him leaving the room had your legs spreading instantly, lips bitten down to control the moans.
Pathetic, you called yourself—getting off of your rival—off him, of the way he carried you the day before, hiked over his shoulder—pathetic.
More pathetic were the moans and slight groans you found yourself unable to suppress, fingers pumping in and out at a steady pace—your clit glistening with no attention as you imagined him teasing you.
A gasp escaped your lips—eyes widening at the moment as you imagined him between your thighs—he’d mark your inner thighs with kisses you knew, leave you begging for him too.
“Fu-uck,” you muttered, the pressure rising up—“m’close,” you mumbled to nobody in particular and amusing was the fact that you’d left your clit untouched as you knew Suguru would too.
Desperate sighs and moans you let go—trust in the assumption that he wasn’t back yet- he couldn’t be.
“Please,” you begged—perhaps to yourself for more stimulation—“pleasepleaseplease,” your voice a whisper as a finger you thrusted and pulled out sharp—finally a finger rolling slowly around your clit.
“Fuck,” you drew out, as your moans fought to become louder—“fuck m’lose su’” your eyes widened again, mouth turned o-shaped as the pleasure you chased finally arrived.
“Mm!!” You moaned and finally—“Fuck please Suguru!” Let out as you came on your fingers-not loud, just enough to tip him over as well as he sat listening outside your door.
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Your fingers looked for it in a frenzy—you were sure you packed it—“Ready?” You head Suguru call out.
“Wait!” You shouted back—“I can’t find something,” Suguru grinned, “A brain is it?” Your door opened just as that, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Look for it later,” he mused—eyes watching your hands buried in your bag, total concentration tossed into it—sweet.
“The mission ain’t waiting for your pleasure-satisfaction, I mean,” he chuckled- your eyes narrowed.
“Whatever,” you grumbled under your breath—walking outside, basking in the warm afternoon warmth and your ex’s gaze.
“He’ll join us,” you whispered—“wouldn’t let me leave without well, threatening to kick us out,”
Suguru scratched his neck—nerves racking and a thought constant to as why he hadn’t punched your ex yet.
“Sure,” Suguru sighed—to your surprise, “we’ve to be in a club anyways, gonna maintain our distance from trash,” you chuckled beside him—a slight twinkle in the way you looked at him.
-
You walked ahead of the two boys—aware of the unmoving gaze on your form—a small black skirt—a smirk you held, hungry eyes—theirs.
“How far is it?” You made sure to question your Ex, not once did your body tilt towards Suguru on the slightest—cruel.
“Just about here,” he replied, providing no help, but you smiled nevertheless—“Thanks babe,” you giggled.
Suguru merely watched.
And he watched the entire evening—potently, as you did the exact opposite of his entire plan. He watched as you swayed your hips—with the target himself.
He watched as you grinned and giggled, letting your ex roam his hands onto your ass—he wanted to punch him right there, but he watched.
He watched as you watched him, ass grinding back into your ex, a grin on your face—and he watched as you downed three shots right after your bit of the mission was done and he watched as you draped yourself around your ex.
And as the fact lay, You weren’t really sure to what you were doing, or why.
Suguru Geto had never meant anything exactly, more than a rival of course- and a drinking buddy- and the person you admired- and a classmate you wouldn’t want to lose- and yes. Nothing more than all that, ever. So the sudden need to spite him? It was new- exhilarating, some may say.
So you wove the game- an open invitation shoved into his face; Never the watcher however, he finally moved, jaw tightened and annoyance all so present on his face.
And this time, you watched- you watched as he made sure to drug the target all too well, maintaining eye contact as he let the girls sway around him too—you watched as he slid his hands into the girl’s skirt, the one he danced with—planting a soft kiss on her neck. And you watched simply, wondering how that could’ve felt.
But a game only remained one so long until you stepped it up a notch- turning around to kiss your ex, placing deliberately, his hand on your ass- a tease.
“Get away,” he spoke through gritted teeth, a shove to your drunk boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Hey!” You yelped—“The hell?” Your eyes wide—as if innocent.
“Don’t ‘hey’ me right now,” he muttered dangerously—eyes boring into yours—“Let’s leave,” his hand reached up quick, grabbing onto yours to pull you away.
“Woah there pretty,” you called out, brows raised, “who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?”
Silence—exactly.
“You can leave if you want Geto,” such condescension laced your voice, he was almost hurt.
“You’re drunk,”
“So are you,” you snapped back—he wasn’t—you knew he wasn’t.
He blinked once, then twice, gaze persistent—begging you to come; your hardened into denial.
He sighed one last time—“Get fucked bitch,” and before you could reply, he was gone.
Gone as that—leaving you in a mess of your own emotions and an idiot of an ex-boyfriend.
-
A three day mission, two days gone by, the larger partial of the mission dealt with—you crashed onto your ex’s bed the second night, no courage found to even meet Geto’s gaze after the scene at the club.
The smell of booze was intense, your mind slightly tipsy on its own accords. With a confused heart you scrolled through your Instagram, bored.
The snores of your ex—and the girl beside him provided little entertainment—the thought of Suguru Geto in the room beside did nothing to help, you wanted relief. But all to no avail for your vibrator was ‘lost’ too and the energy to chase your high was not your preferred option.
Your eyes found its way to the clock- 12:02 a.m. it was late—‘would he be asleep?’ You wondered, fingers adamantly rubbing slow circles around your nipples—again, desperate.
Eyes closed, you fought urges to call him—just to tease of course, you could pretend to be drunk after all.
And so your thoughts fought quick—to lay bare without him or with him, eyes staring at the screen if your phone—ring!
Your eyes widened- the caller id read ‘Bangs’, you mentally convulsed. You stared at the second for a decent ten seconds—11, 12, 13–you knew he cut it any second—14, 15–“Hello?” You mumbled quick, raspy.
“Awake?” He inquired- “No,” you replied.
You welcomed his silence on the line—“Come here,”
“No,” you echoed—“don’t wanna talk to you,” you mumbled- mind hazy to how you couldn’t help the fingers swirling around your hardened nipples.
“I’m not calling here to talk,” his voice was sharp—annoyed—a silence you offered him this time.
“You think I don’t notice doll?” You could hear the smirk, “You’re probably wet just by the sound of me,”—you were—“so needy,”
“You’re the one who’s calling me Geto,” you snapped, “Really needy of you,”
“Maybe I do need you—keep rubbing, slowly, touch yourself doll, just slightly,” your mouth ran dry—you obliged without a second thought, “and maybe I have something that you need too—tell me though, can your silly little ex even touch you as good as you imagine me to, even in his dreams?,” a grin—a shit-eating grin, on his face you imagined. Such a fucking thief.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you muttered through your side of the line, an airy breath leaving you as your fingers dipped beneath your shorts—as you did exactly what he told you to—“Sure thing,” his voice polite with just the best undertones of condescension, “Just a request then, doll, check if you’re wet please,”
You could practically moan at his voice and words—you were wet, nimble fingers prodding cautiously, “I’m not,” you lied- a moan bitten back, “Seems like your needy cunt really does need the pretty pink vibrator to get ya turned on Hm?” Husky, he sounded.
“Give it back Geto,” a whine, “Come take it,” a challenge.
And however could you deny a challenge from him?
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A knock, and then two more—just like last time.
The door opened just as quick—brows raised, “Yes?” He questioned as if he hadn’t just teased you through the phone 5 minutes ago—you eyed him, “I believe you stole something,”
He grinned, your frown widened—“Come inside,” his hand gently found its way onto the small of your back—the gravity of the situation slowly befell you, you regretted nothing.
You walked slow, as you’d last night, “Where is it?” You questioned, brows furrowed, “Where’s what, pretty?”
Fingers clenched you stared at him, “Enough with your games Geto—hand it the fuck back,”
You watched as he slowly walked around you, a slow pace as he ended right behind you, bending slightly to grab the soda can—something easily possible without managing to glue his dick to the round of your ass—your face burnt.
“My my, such a dirty mouth you got there doll,” you needn’t turn back to imagine his expressions, “Maybe I should punish you- you’ve been bad all night anyways,” your blood boiled at the whisper of his words- “I wouldn’t have to, had you not been the idiot you are,”
His fingers were quick on your waist, spinning you to face him—even without a surface to be pinned against, you felt trapped under his gaze.
“So mean to me,” he mumbled—eyes bearing into yours, a subtle smirk, “There are other ways of getting into a guys’ pants you know,”
Eyes narrowed you scrunched your face, “Rather fuck a-”
“-a pig before me,” he rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, I know doll,” a sip of his soda he took, “But that’s not what you were doing this evening Hm?” His fingers were quick to grab your chin too, urging you to look no where but his eyes.
“Tell me doll,” he pressed, “What were you trying to do Hm? Grinding against those guys’ cocks? You’re that cock-hungry? A slut?”
Red- you saw red as his words registered in your head—a shake of the head was all to be offered, “Such a pity I had to deal with this way because you can’t control yourself,” your eyes widened, shushed by a shake of his head—perhaps, reassuring.
“So tell me, what were you trying?”
You stared, like a kid caught stealing- you could only stand there guiltily, answer on the tip of the tongue, but too ashamed to mumble it out.
Suguru simply hummed, “Too embarrassed to accept it doll? That’s fine—maybe me sending pictures of your little toy or the recording of you moaning today in the morning—”
Your ears rang- no way he heard that- your mouth hung open, “You sound like a pretty bitch in heat you know,” it was simply insulting, to have him say all this- but it was in the way it felt good—in the way it made you wetter.
“Don’t,” you managed, he grinned further, “Don’t what doll?”
You rolled your eyes, seemingly unable to get out of your predicament, “Geto please,” finally—you could see he’d mentally relented already, “Please give me back my…” you paused, swallowing, “please uh- my, my vibrator, give it back please,” your face flushed.
His gaze remained fixated, “Don’t think that’s what it is, c’mon dummy, you’re smarter than this right?”
Jaw tightened, you stared at him, “Geto please, can I have my- my uh, my pretty little pink vibrator back?” The way you bit your lip so hard, Suguru was sure it would bleed any second—adorable.
He clapped right then, like a proud teacher—walking closer to you, “such an obedient doll,” so close hope stood, his breath lingering upon your face, eyes observant to every breath and sigh—smiling when he noticed your relaxed fingers.
He knew you liked this.
“Nope,” he chuckled—“don’t wanna hand it back yet,” you wanted to scream at him—you couldn’t of course.
“And you haven’t told me yet,” he continued, “why were you acting like a brat Hm?”
And somehow accepting this was worse than accepting the fact above- “I wanted..” he stared hungrily, “I wanted your attention,” everything in that moment felt more interesting than his expressions—he found you all too cute such.
“Aha,” he smiled wide, “You wanted to suck my dick so bad pretty?”
“Not everything is about your dick,” you flared—“But this is, isn’t it?” He sneered—and you quietened down again for it was.
It escalated quickly here on, his hand moving to grope your breasts—“Can i kiss you?” He murmured against your skin and as much as you wanted to humble him- to not feed into his ego, you nodded.
With his lips latched onto the supple skin of your shoulder he pulled you closer still—so very close, a you let out a soft moan, having accepted it was a lost battle to fight him anymore.
“Eager,” he gripped your jaw- making you face him again, “Aren’t we?” A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest—fingers betraying his composure too, in the hasty way they unbuttoned your shirt.
“Eager, aren’t we?” You mirrored his expression- smirking all the same as you unbuttoned his.
“Shut up,” he muttered, a simple command—but you’d be fucked truly if you listened to him of course.
“Do it yourself,” you grin- already pushed underneath him—“Aren’t even gonna tell me to stop? Thought you came here to get something? Or maybe the slut really did just want attention,” smile, condescending—and he did shut you up.
And so there you were, pinned underneath him- hungry lips searching every inch of you, mapping your body in just a certain way.
“Had I known,” he grunted in midst the frenzied kisses, “that you tasted so sweet—I’d keep you like this all the damn time rather than fighting,” you groaned against him, feeling his hard dick propped against your thigh—separated by all but a think layer of clothing—“You talk a lot, shut up,”
He let your words fall blatantly, mouth never parting from your face as it smeared around wet kisses all over it, letting a deep moan as your hands found their way into the tangled mess of his black hair, pulling slightly with every grind of his hips. A breathy moan escaped you too—His teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your ears—“this is what you want right? What you want all the damn time?”
You couldn’t care less about his taunting—until a sudden slap ended upon your face, jaw gripped by fingers—“Tell me, could those men have given it to you like I do?” Heat surged through you—pooling all the way into your abdomen.
A grin you passed and and nod—another sharp slap, it felt euphoric.
Slowly, Suguru pulled away, enticing a low groan from you—“get up,” he murmured and you obliged, black eyes staring into yours, “get up and on all fours,”
“Really gonna fuck in a brothel?” A cheeky grin you adorned, body working nevertheless, as per his words—with hands and knees planted on the bed, you gave a soft arch to your back.
The clink of his belt entered your ears, the low shudder of his clothes thrown away—“Since you love acting like a prostitute, it would only make sense, right?” A hand reached to pull away your shorts too, save for the little black thong you wore—a smirk on his face as he admired the view. His fingers were soft in the way they explored—touching and prodding every inch of your back, resting just a little too long at the curve of your ass.
Suguru geto was simply cruel in the way he administered the pleasure on you- handing you a little and taking away a whole lot for the moment his fingers came close to your clothed cunt, the moment your sensitive core could feel the slightest touch, he was gone. All too aware of the wet patch on your panties, you dared not question a thing.
Body shifted to face you, he kneeled on the bed too—your eyes widened slightly, scrolling down to the length of his cock, it was pretty you had to admit. A decent length with a girth that you knew you would have you crying later—an angry pink-ish tip welcomed you, pre-cum leaking over it.
“Go on,” he commanded, “not gonna put your whorish mouth to use doll?” And normally you’d have reciprocated his words- but just the way his hands gripped your hair, bunching it up into a ponytail of sorts- you knew he was playing. You inched closer, hesitant eyes staring up at him as you shyly licked the tip, it was salty, nothing that you truly minded.
You gulp- uncertain lips as they wrap around the top, an experimental flick to his tip you passed- a hiss escaping his pretty lips, grip tightening on your hair.
“Come now doll,” he sneered, “don’t go all shy over me now—run your mouth the way you used to suck up for that ex of yours,” you pass him a glare- mouth pulling away from his upturned cock entirely—he chuckled.
“No lie right? After all, you were begging to sleep with him doll, cozied up beside him yeah?” All the while he kept pressuring your hair, a soft cry you let out.
“You act very smart yaknow,” he rubbed his chin—“Try that again,” and with no choice but to comply — you open your mouth and insert the tip of his cock, your jaw loosening to accommodate the familiar girth of his length protruding from your oral cavity to the walls of your throat. Geto hissed at the swirl of your tongue on the underside of his dick, his free hand now on the top of your head with tufts of your hair in his fingers. "...mmhmm, this is how you should use that mouth doll, not in all that chit-chat you do,"
And if you could, in the moment you only wanted to bite his dick off- it would’ve been hilarious, had he not been holding onto the pictures and recordings—and you suck as you could, the precum’s taste all over your tongue while his grasp on your hair tightened— fingers roughly pushing your head to bob up and down.
It simply felt disgusting to be treated this way, like his slut- like his toy and only worse was the wetness between your legs that couldn’t seem to stop growing.
“Shit,” he breathed out, “Ah— shit shit, jus’ like that doll,” it felt Dirty—but so good, to have him falling apart at your touch, even if he held the control, “s’good for me yeah?” Raspy, he sounded-hips bucking into your mouth and before you could register what was happening, his fingers pushed your face to his base, his cock prodding deep down your throat, tears were quick to pool around your eyes.
And just then, he pulled out, leaving your mouth feeling hollow—finger quick to pump his shaft, lubricated by all but your spit—a string of saliva joining it still to your mouth. And right before you, Suguru came with a sharp hiss, “A-ah, fuck,” he groaned, cumming all over your face and chest—paining you in his mess.
You watched him like that for a second, unspent, eyes huge as you instantly get to suck on his thumb he shoved right into your face.
“Good girl,” he murmured— “So good f’me,” he grinned, he wasn’t done yet- not until you’d be too exhausted to even move.
He eyed your form, on all fours for him like a true slut, his eyes only held adoration as he watched his cum stain your face—his eyes, however, we’re quick to take note of your drooling mess soon.
He stood behind you now, face level with your clothed pussy—“How pathetic,” he grinned, “You got so fucking wet by me using your mouth doll?” It was the way he said it—making the statement sound so innocent and yet, “Or was it the call? You got all so wet by just my voice? But then again, should’ve known—”
—smack!!
Your body lurched forward with the sudden force—a cry escaping your lips. You heard him chuckle, “such a tease, you have to be punished right?” A shake of your head he offered, nothing against his predefined course of actions.
Another spank he lay down—lips biting down onto suppress your moans—“I’m talking to you doll��fucking answer me,” another spank, you couldn’t help the pleasure the pain from his palm provided.
Quick enough, his belt was grabbed- grabbing your arms, he shoved your form into the ass-up-face-down position, classic.
“Sorry,” you mumbled helplessly—aware of your bare ass being exposed to him as he slowly pulled down your panties.
“Fuck doll,” he bore, “you’re fuckin glistenin’,” you knew it and the fact that you knew made it all the worse—just so another spank came crashing down, a rough squeeze he offered this time too, “think I should gag you with these eh?” The cockiness all too prevalent in his voice as he pocketed your soiled panties.
A whimper you let out at his words—needy.
His eyes stared at your core, “Spread your legs for me pretty,” and even that small murmur seemed sweet to you as you obliged quickly—he chuckled.
“So obedient for me, you’re far better when you’re like this you know,”
“Savour it while it lastssss- oh” your words interrupted by a dega of his fingers down your slit—filthy.
Quick to inhale the scent of you— he spanked you again, “only use your mouth to moan and scream for me or to tell me to stop ok?” You nodded, head pressed into the mattress, heart racy.
And in that moment—the power handle shifted just a bit as Suguru moaned wantonly, nuzzling up his nose between your folds—for just in that moment, he let you guide him. A tentative tongue swivelled through your folds—lapping onto it like he was hungry, and perhaps he was top, for your attention and praise.
“Fuck- right there yes,” you moaned hazily, the grip of his fingers tightening around your thighs—sure to leave bruises, he sucked reverently, as if worshipping you in this state and form.
He didn’t tease you anymore—he couldn’t, for as much as he wanted to see you cry for him, for his touch—he was starved. And he wanted to show you too, that even in your palm he treated you better than any guy ever could.
“Mmm su!” You cried softly, mouth hanging open to just let out out moans and cries-“jus’ like that—s’ perfect,” you arched your back more for him—letting him better access to your hole as he whimpered against your clit—“So so good for me Su,” you mumbled mindlessly as His moans against your slick cunt vibrate you to your core, as he greedily laps you up, tongue-fucking the precise spot that you praised him for finding until the coil in your stomach tightens, and you brace yourself against his shoulder.
“Like that?” He groaned against your cunt, pulling away slightly only to insert a finger suddenly, “feels good baby?” He questioned, spitting onto your pussy and rubbing it all over your core messily—another finger inserted, he stretched you out slowly.
“Could your boyfriend have done this Hm?” You took note of the green in his voice—“of course he couldn’t—nothing could right doll?” You nodded hastily, too focused on chasing your high until—smack! Another spank to pull you out of it—you whined.
“S’tight doll—not even your fucking vibrator yeah,” slowly—the slight buzz of it entered your ears—eyes widening.
The hum only ever got louder as he brought your toy closer to your core—chuckling as you clenched around still air—“so desperate—who do you belong to Hm?”
Silence you offered, not even a moan as he rubbed the vibrator around your core—he grinned devilishly, “Now is not the moment to play games doll—” you groaned at the touch of the vibrator.
“Oh?” He smiled, “don’t want it? Isn’t this what you came for in the first place?”
Another swift smack—this time on your pussy, you clenched and cried all together—“Ah!” His fingers curled up inside you—“I’m talking to you—Mm! Yeah- talking to you doll,” he grunted, watching you fall apart—another sharp spank on the same spot had tears building up in your eyes again.
“Who does this slutty pussy belong to? Who do you think about when you cum doll?” You never wanted to feed his ego but in the way, he cruelly pulsated his fingers inside you—teasing your clit slowly with the vibrator you couldn’t help it.
“You,” you breathed out- “Fuck s’you—all you,”
“Scream my name doll, let your ex know it too,” and just then he pulls his fingers away too, and the vibrator—latching onto your clit, his tongue again, swirling and swiping—until, it was there.
And all in a moment, it hits you like a wave—pleasure washing all over you as you cum all over his tongue—shuddering and shaking through it, riding his tongue out as you did so.
If you could look behind and spot him, you’d be all too pleased I assure you, with cheeks flushed he kneeled behind you, lips swollen and covered in your cum.
“Shit,” he groaned after a moment of silence, his and yours, “Pretty sure you woke the whole hotel up with your moans ya know,” and just like that, he was back at his usual self—“Shut up,” you mumbled, moving your arms to remind him to untie you.
He was quick to settle you back into a sitting position—propped against his chest you lay, head resting on his shoulder—“You want something? Water?” He inquired, concerned eyes boring into yours, you shook your head, he nodded.
You sat there a moment, “It’s 1:30 already,” you mumbled, just like last night—“I should go,” he grinned again, “I would, had your ex been a better fuck than me,” you giggled at his words—“Certainly more entertaining,” you gingerly spoke—“Liar,” he chuckled.
“And please,” his fingers teasing your nipples now—slow, steady circles, “I’m not letting you go until I’ve made you cum at least thrice more,”
“Suguru!”
“And now you say my name?” A deep laughed rumbled as he held you close—“uh- suguru,” you looked at him closely, “Can you delete those…the pictures and all?”
He chuckled again—already aware of your angry gaze the moment he replied, “my doll really is dumb yeah? You think I would care enough to film you when I could cum at the sound of you moaning?”
“What the fuck Geto?”
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lincolndjarin · 7 months
Text
constructive criticisms
main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦
kinktober : day two - afab!ficauthor!reader x javier peña
prompt : virginity loss [ 18+ mdni ]
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word count : 5.1 k
summary : javier peña has been a thorn in your side for months, the last thing you need is for him to find out you write dirty fanfiction
warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, protected sex, p in v sex, oral m!recieving, fingering, mutual masturbation, viginity loss (duh), innocence kink sorta, squirting, reader is completely clueless when it comes to sex, javier is a dumb sweetheart in this, plot w a little porn lol
a/n : yippee! this is an idea ive had floating around for a bit and this seemed like a good opportunity to do it! easily the longest of the kinktober stuff lmao which is why i didnt want this to be day one cause i didnt want to set a precedent haha. also i hate this but it's october so like i can't do much about that lmao. AND the edit was rushed bc i gotta get to work so apologies for any errors!!
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  “What’s that?” You slam your laptop shut the moment you hear his voice. 
“Nothing.” You hadn’t heard him come into your office yet here he is, looming over your shoulder. 
“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can’t stand the mocking smile on his face. 
“Did you need something?” You do your best to sound patient. 
“I’ve got some suspect photos I need you to identify.” He’s still grinning from ear to ear as you hold your hand out for the file. You flip through the pictures before tossing them onto the pile of paperwork you’ve been trudging through. You’re waiting for him to leave but he just stays in place behind you until you spin around in your chair. 
“Is there something else?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glowering at him. 
“What were you working on?” For god's sake, drop it. 
“Get out of my office Peña, or I won’t process your suspects.” Thankfully that gets him to leave, sighing as he closes the door behind him. Once you’re sure he’s not coming back you open your laptop again, quickly closing out your tabs. 
The last thing you need is for Javier fucking Peña to read your Star Wars fanfiction. 
He makes your life hell around the office enough as is. He makes fun of how you dress, he only ever asks you to file his paperwork, (despite the dozen others who are just as capable.) and you’re pretty sure he stole your lunch one time. He’s just in general a nuisance. (And it doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous and knows it.)
It’s not like you’re ashamed of your writing, you’ve mentioned it in passing to some of your friends around the office but Javier is different. He gives you enough grief without knowing how badly you wanna fuck Anakin Skywalker, you can’t imagine how much worse thing would get if he found you’re writing. 
So you get back to work, trying to forget the interaction entirely. 
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You like to work late on fridays, it makes things easier, you don’t have to come in early on monday and no ones around to bother you while you work. You’re just about done with everything as you gather up all the finished documents, going from empty office to empty office as you leave the respective papers on each person's desk. 
You’re nearly done, you’ve just got Javier’s suspect list to deal with as you step into the bullpen to deliver it you’re surprised to see him still sitting at his desk, everyone else is gone, only his desk lamp and computer monitor light the large room. You approach quietly, wanting to get this done as quickly as possible so you can just go home. You’re about to clear your throat to get his attention when you freeze in place. 
You recognize the website he’s on. 
You’d know that red bar anywhere. 
There’s no fucking way. 
You feel your face getting flushed, a deep shame settling in your stomach as you take another step forward just to be sure.
Archive of Our Own beta
And just below that, the name of your favorite song, but more importantly, the title of your fanfiction. 
You’re so fucked. 
You feel a mess of angry tears starting to pool in your eyes as you hear him groan. 
That somehow hurts worse. 
Not only is he reading it, but he also thinks it’s so bad he’s audibly expressing it. You’re livid, and humiliated, you should spend this weekend looking for a new job because he’s about to become insufferable. Knowing him, everyone will know about it before you even get in on monday.
In your rage you walk forward noisily, tossing his files down onto his desk, turning, planning on glaring at him once before leaving, hoping he doesn’t see how truly upset you are. 
Nothing could have prepared you for what you’re met with. You’re expecting a smirk or maybe even a look of disgust, instead he’s gritting his teeth, his hair sticking to his forehead, a visible sheen of sweat on his face and most prominently, his hand haphazardly shoved down the front of his pants. 
You both realize the predicament you’re caught in at the same time. You stare way too long. Eyes lingering on the exposed skin where his shirt rides up, a trail of hair running down his naval. Neither one of you moves until you finally snap out of it, squeezing your eyes shut and turning on your heel, walking as quickly as possible towards the exit when you hear the squeak of his chair on the floor as he calls out your name. You don’t dare turn around though, not slowing your pace until you’re out of the building and in your car. 
Thankfully he doesn’t pursue you further as you drive home as quickly as possible. Hands tightly gripping the wheel the entire time. You can see your phone blowing up in your bag, the inside dimly lit the entire length of the drive. When you pull into your apartment building’s parking lot. You grab your bag and hurry inside, desperate to just go to bed and forget everything that just happened, ignoring the throbbing between your legs from what you just witnessed. 
You step inside your studio, locking up behind you as you toss your bag onto the bed, shedding your clothes and stepping into the bathroom, praying that a cold shower will clear your head. 
It doesn’t. 
You feel just as hot and frazzled as you did before. Maybe he was just trying to mess with you. If that’s the case then now he’s just sexually harassing you. 
Stupid fucking Peña. 
You pull a tank top over your head and throw on a pair of panties before collapsing on your bed. You don’t want to look but you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t, so you reach into your bag, retrieving your phone. 
Just as suspected you have an endless amount of messages from the man himself. You're about to start scrolling through them all when you read the most recent one. 
[ I’m coming over. ] 
Son of a bitch. 
You quickly scroll through the previous messages. 
[ I’m sorry, are you okay? ]
[ Call me or I’m coming over. ]
[ Please just text me back. ]
[ I really liked your story. ]
[ I’m sorry. ]
There’s about a hundred similar messages but one stands out to you more than anything else. 
He liked your story. 
Why does that make your face burn up?
You start typing, telling him that he doesn’t want to find out what’s gonna happen if he shows up but you’re interrupted by a knock on your door. You trip over yourself as you rush to your dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before peering through the peephole. 
Sure enough, there he stands, he looks exactly like you’d left him, shirt untucked and askew, hair a mess, except now his hand isn’t in his pants. You’re about to reach over and turn your lamp off when he clears his throat. 
“I know you’re in there, your car was out front.” Well, so much for pretending you aren’t home. You hesitantly unlock the door before pulling it open, plastering a scowl on your face. 
“What do you want?” You try to look stern but you know you probably just look nervous. 
“I just wanna talk.”
You’re hesitant but you open the door fully, letting him in as you return to your bed, sitting and pointing at the loveseat in the corner for him. Neither one of you speaks, you watch as his throat bobs, he won’t look at you, staring at his hands instead. 
“How did you get my address?” You finally break the silence. 
“Your file.” He says sheepishly. 
“You can’t do that! That’s an invasion of my privacy!”
“That’s what you wanna be mad about?” Fair enough. 
“Fine, why did you do it?” You don’t like that he’s here, in your tiny apartment, the memory of him splayed out in his chair takes up all the space.
“Which part?” He finally looks up at you, meeting your gaze. 
“Why did you read it?” 
“I was curious.” He looks truly apologetic, it almost makes you want to believe him.
“Really?” Your tone drips with sarcasm. 
“You seemed really defensive, I wanted to see why.” It seems genuine but you know better. 
“You wanted to embarrass me.” You say plainly. 
“Why do you act like I’m out to get you?” His brows furrow and his mouth settles into a frown. 
“Because you are.” You say it matter of factly, you honestly can’t believe he’s acting like he doesn’t know. 
“I don’t understand what I did that makes you hate me so much.” You’re tempted to soften your gaze, but the last thing you need to do if this is all just some trick is appear vulnerable. 
“You can’t be serious.”
“Please, enlighten me.” He throws his hands up in exasperation. 
“You despise me! You torment me every single day!”
“Really? I torment you?” He points an accusatory finger in your direction. 
“You make me do your paperwork every single time, even when there are plenty of other people who are capable of it.” You feel the urge to stand and have this argument, you’re getting heated in several ways now. 
“You do it better than everyone else.” He shrugs like it’s a valid excuse. 
“Bullshit.” You snark as he puts his head in his hands.
“And I like the excuse to see you.” He mumbles before looking back up at him.
“You make fun of how I dress.” You’re quick to change the subject, not wanting to fall victim to his charms. 
“I do not.” His voice pitches up defensively. 
“You said I dress like your grandma.”
“That was a compliment.” He can’t be serious.
“How the fuck is that a compliment?”
“I love my grandma very much.” He sounds serious. 
“You’re a nightmare.” You fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your head swimming with confusion. 
“Have you ever considered that I just wanted to be around you? You assume that I just liked to bother you but maybe I just like being near you.” He stands as you sit up, a look of honest upset on his face. 
“You expect me to believe that you did those things because you like me? Are we in middle school, Peña? You could have just asked me out instead of pulling my pigtails on the playground.” You stand, not liking the power imbalance of having him towering over you where you sit. 
“I did, you said no.” He crosses his arms and you scoff. 
“You did not, you can’t just make things up to get out of this conversation.” You poke a finger into his chest but he just brushes it away. 
“I asked you out to lunch two weeks ago and you said no.”
“I think I would remember that if it happened.” His anger fizzles out a bit as he looks you up and down. 
“I may or may not have thrown your lunch out that day so you’d be more likely to accept.” He gives you a sheepish look. “But you were so mad you brushed it off.”
“That was a serious offer? I thought you were messing with me.” He just stares at you, wide puppy dog eyes you have to turn away from lest you fall for this act. You don’t get a moment's rest though because as you stare at the floor a particularly harrowing thought crosses your mind. 
“How much did you read?” You turn back to him quickly. 
“Enough.” When you turn back to him he’s staring at his hands again. 
You both know what that means. 
“It seemed a little familiar.” He says softly. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You want him out, now.
“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.” You’re going to look at job listings once he goes home. 
“I think you should leave.” You clear your throat, nodding towards the door. 
“I’m not leaving until we talk about it.” 
“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sit back down on your bed, your legs feeling unsteady. 
“Well I do.” He takes a few steps in your direction and you immediately regret sitting. 
“I don’t care what you want, get out of my apartment, now.” You head is tilted up completely as you glare at him.
“Do you really not realize exactly what is happening here?” You can feel his breath on your face, cigarettes and spearmint. You turn your head to the side, refusing to look at him. 
This is exactly what happens in your story. 
“You’re an idiot.” You whisper, willing yourself not to get any more upset than you already are. 
“You wrote your story about us.” He says each word sharply as you grit your teeth. 
“I did not.” Now who’s just making things up to get out of a conversation?
“Everything that I did to you, he does to her.”
You don’t have a response to that. What are you supposed to say? He’s right, straight down to the confrontation where he tells her he wants her and she tells him that can’t be possible. He hates her. 
He kneels in front of the bed, moving to be in your eye line and when you go to turn your head he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. 
“I really did like your story.” You shove his hand away as he says it.
“Don’t mock me.” 
“Jesus, what do I have to do to make you realize I don’t have an ounce of contempt for you?” He stands, throwing his hands up in defeat.
You finally snap. 
“Maybe stop taking my shit and stop giving me extra work and stop invading my privacy and just fucking talk to me like an adult, you arrogant, immature, son of a-“ He grabs your face in both of his hands as he leans down and crashes his lips against yours, you let out a surprised squeak as he cups your jaw. After a moment he pulls back and you’re left staring at him dumbfounded. 
“Now, can we please talk about it?” He mumbles before pulling you in again for a single chaste kiss. 
“Okay.” You feel a little breathless at the abruptness of his actions. 
“I really liked it.” He smiles now, the energy in the room changing drastically. 
“You keep saying that.” You whisper.
“It’s true.”
“Wanna give me some constructive criticism?” You laugh but you can see his eyes flicker to the ceiling quickly and suddenly you want to press further. 
“You know you quoted me word for word a couple of times.” 
“You’re avoiding the question.” You laugh again but now you’re genuinely curious. 
“I guess I thought the sex scenes were the tiniest bit unrealistic.”
“Unrealistic?” You feign offense. 
“Well yeah I mean, it’s written like you’ve never had sex. They go at it all night and he never needs any breaks? And doesn’t she have like twenty orgasms? I’m pretty sure she’d be in terrible pain at that point.” He laughs softly but when you furrow your brows he stops. “I assumed because it’s fantasy that that’s intentional though.” He adds on quickly at the end. 
Your embarrassment is clear on your face as his own expression goes to one of poorly concealed surprise. 
“You’ve never-” He whispers, clearly shocked. 
“I’ve never.” You finish his sentence, not wanting to hear it out loud. 
“I mean, that’s fine.” His ears are burning red. 
“I know it’s fine.” You mumble. “I’ve had opportunities to, I just… I don’t know, I guess I made it too big of a deal in my mind and now I just don’t care but I’ve waited this long and-”
“Cariña, it’s fine.” He interrupts you now, that soft smile on his face never wavering. 
“Do you think my writing would be better if I had more experience?” You say it like it’s a joke but he sees right through you.  
“I’m not sure, how much experience do you have just in general?” He stands, moving to sit beside you on the bed. 
“Well I’ve kissed people before.”
“That’s it?” You glare at him and he coughs nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”
“I’ve been busy with work, it's just, it’s never been a priority of mine.”
“You do know… how to do it? Right?” You smack him on the arm. 
“Of course I know how to do it, you read my stuff.”
“That’s why I’m asking.”
“Oh come on, you said it was good!” 
“It is good! Everything but the dirty stuff is really good!” You groan, putting your head in your hands, he sits quietly beside you for a bit, rubbing your back. 
“Do you want me to teach you?” He says lightheartedly. 
“Seriously?” You glare at him. 
“It’s the least I can do for unintentionally making your work life hell.” He’s starting to sound more genuine in his over, it sends a chill down your spine. 
“So what? We just… do it?” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the idea of losing it to someone who knows what he’s doing. 
“No we don’t ‘just do it.’ we do other stuff first.” He sounds amused but you’re glad he doesn’t outright laugh at you. 
“Can you just- can you just tell me what to do?” You rest your head on his shoulder briefly and he runs his fingers through your hair. 
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes please.” You mumble, feeling a strange mix of aroused and nervous. 
“Well, in one of the later chapters she blows him, right?” You nod slowly. “And you say it’s her first time doing it, she probably shouldn’t have been able to just take all of him in her mouth right off the get go, especially since he’s apparently nine inches? Which is a whole separate issue by the way.” You can feel your face getting hot all over again as he explains everything like it’s obvious. “If you want to start there we can do that.” He murmurs, trying to meet your gaze but you just keep trying to look anywhere else. 
“How big is it supposed to be normally?” You chew on your lip, hoping you don’t sound stupid, you couldn’t be more thankful when he once again doesn’t laugh. 
“It depends, but nine inches is a bit outlandish. Have you ever actually looked at that on a ruler? It’s way bigger than you think.” He holds out the estimated size with his hands and you have to stifle a giggle. 
“Fair enough.” You lean against him one last time before sliding off the bed, kneeling in front of him. “So she’s like this.” You watch his throat bob as he swallows harshly, everything is starting to quickly become real as he nods. You reach your hands towards the noticeably larger bulge in his strict jeans, stopping just before you touch him. “Can I?” 
“Yeah, of course.” With his approval you gingerly unzip the restrictive fabric, watching his half hard dick spring free. He’s certainly not nine inches but he’s still intimidating. You don’t have a frame of reference but you have to assume he’s on the bigger side of things. 
“You don’t wear underwear?” You scoff, trying to lighten the mood despite the combined anxiety and arousal pulsing through you right now.
“Not usually.” He murmurs, notably softer than before. 
“What do I do first?” 
“If you want, you can start by touching it, just do what feels right.” He reaches down to hold your face for a moment until you’re able to calm down a bit. You reach forward at a snail's pace until finally wrapping a hand around the base, jumping a bit as you feel him twitch against your palm. You slowly stroke him, just once before looking up at him, a reassuring smile on his face as you stroke him a few more times, feeling him swell until he stands fully erect. Almost absentmindedly your other hand drifts between your legs, you experimentally grind against your own hand as you continue to leisurely jerk him off, watching how he grips the sheets when you run your thumb over his drooling tip. 
“What do I do next?” You look up at him. 
“Spit on it, hermosa.” His voice is raspy and you sit up on your knees, a line of spit falling from your mouth onto the head of his cock, drawing a hiss past his teeth. It’s easier to stroke him when it’s wet, you experiment with different speeds, watching his reactions until in a moment of bravery you tentatively guide him into your mouth. You can’t help but feel pleased when his hand instinctively flies to your hair, not moving you in any direction, just holding you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the bitter pre-cum as you open your jaw a bit wider, letting him slide over your tongue. As you take him deeper you feel him against your throat and you quickly gag, coughing a bit as he gently pulls you off. “Go slow, don’t take more than you’re able to.” You cough again, catching your breath before taking him in your mouth again, slower this time. “Use your hands on the rest.” He murmurs, the low tone shoots through you and you quickly go back to touching yourself with one hand while using the other to stroke the half of his length that you can’t fit in your mouth. 
After a few minutes you begin to moan against him as you try to reach your own peak, your hand now haphazardly shoved down the front of your pants. He’s leaning back, his pupils pitch black as he watches you, his breathing unsteady. 
“You think you’re ready for more?” He says sweetly, caressing your hair. You pop off of him, watching a line of spit going from the head of his cock to your lips. 
“Sure.” You feel less nervous than you thought you’d be as you stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You feel all fuzzy and slick between your legs, your pussy aches with need as he takes your hand, pulling you onto the bed with him. You sit up against the headboard as he strips completely, discarding his shirt and shoving his pants all the way down. 
You can’t help but take in the sight of him as he turns back to you. 
His warm sun kissed skin, the wide expanse of his shoulders a sharp ratio to his slim waist. He’s toned but he’s soft around the edges and his cock stands proud against the thatch of hair on his lower abdomen. You tilt your head the way it curves, admiring it until he laughs. 
“I want you to do something for me that wasn’t in the story.” He climbs back into bed with you, playing with the waistband of your sweats. 
“Sure, what is it?” You lift your hips, letting him pull them down, tossing them off the bed. 
“I want you to show me how you touch yourself.” You stare at him, a little shocked by the request, your eyes going wide. 
“Why?” 
“I want to see, I want you to show me what feels good.” You want to feel more self conscious but he’s completely naked and something about the fact that you’re still a little covered up helps you relax, with a soft sigh you gingerly slip your hand down the front of your panties. You go off of muscle memory, recalling what you would do if he wasn’t here. 
Tracing your fingers in delicate circles around your clit, watching as he begins to touch himself, almost matching your pace. This would have been a fantasy of yours that you’d resort to when nothing else worked. Javier Peña in your bed, revealing some sort of secret attraction to you, you just never thought it would ever come to fruition. 
But here he is.
Ravaging you with his eyes as you dip two fingers into yourself with a shuddering breath, his own movements stuttering a bit as you do so. With everything leading up to this it isn’t hard to feel the familiar heat building as you expertly push yourself towards it. After a few moments more you shove your panties down completely, wanting to be unencumbered as you discard them. Without them restricting you, you can easily feel that hot tightening sensation approaching rapidly. Your breathing gets heavy as you grind your fingers against your palm, you feel the familiar fiery sensation in the bottom of your stomach as you start haphazardly fucking your own hand, you keep your eyes on the way he fucks his own until you’re just about to burst and he takes hold of your wrist, stopping you.
“Please I-” You let out a frustrated whine but he shushes you with a quick peck.
“I know, can I do it?” You nod frantically, you’d like nothing more. He gently pushes two fingers into you, you gasp in surprise at the sudden stretch as he slides them in and out slowly, continuing to jerk himself off with his other hand as he watches how you eagerly suck him in. 
It doesn’t take much from there. 
His thumb mirrors the motions you did against your clit and that’s all he has to do to push you over the edge. Your cunt spasming around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, hot white burns the edges of your vision and you keep your eyes open long enough to watch as he squeezes the base of his own cock, groaning as he makes his own attempts not to finish. You're vaguely aware of him murmuring something that sounds like praise in Spanish as you get your bearings, he slowly removes his fingers, leaning forward on his knees to kiss you. You catch your breath through the kiss until finally he pulls back.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” His breathing heavy as he nudges his forehead against yours. 
“Is it gonna hurt?” You’re more curious than nervous at this point. 
“It shouldn’t, and if it does I’ll stop, okay?” He hops off the bed for a moment, searching through his wallet before tossing you a condom. 
“Okay.”
“And you’re sure this is what you want?” You carefully tear open the condom wrapper, handing him the rubber ring with a nod, watching how he aptly rolls it onto his cock. 
“Probably wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t.” You slide down the bed a bit so you’re mostly laying on your pillows as he positions himself on top of you. He still seems worried about you so you reach forward, taking his cock in your hand and guiding him between your legs. 
You can’t help but sharply inhale as he eases just the tip into you, your eyes flutter shut and your mouth opens slightly as you sigh.  
God, you wish you’d done this sooner. 
It doesn’t hurt. You expected a stinging, or a tearing, instead it’s just pressure. When you open your eyes you find his squeezed shut now as he slowly works himself into you, rocking slowly back and forth. He keeps your foreheads pressed together, occasionally, bumping his nose against yours. 
“Still good?” He whispers, a noticeable strain to his voice. You nod, watching curiously as he pushes his hips forward in one last motion to fully seat himself in your heat. His jaw is tense and he’s breathing through his teeth. “So fucking tight.” He mumbles before leaning forward, groaning into your mouth. 
“Does it hurt?” You ask when he pulls himself away with a soft smile. 
“No, it just makes me worried about hurting you.”
“I’m okay, I want you to move.” You look down to where the two of you are joined. Watching how he gently pulls himself from you just a bit before pushing back in. That’s when he bumps against that spot inside of you that suddenly has you seeing stars, your hands grip his shoulders as a moan slips out of you, the grin you’ve seen a hundred times before forms on his face, you’d once hated it but now it has you gushing around him. 
“Does that feel good?” He tilts his head to the side, nudging his nose against your temple as you nod fervently. He repeats the motion, pulling out about halfway before snapping his hips forward again, your back arching when he slams into the sweet spot inside of you. 
“Fuck- Peña, right there.” You whine, your nails leaving little crescent indents in the tan flesh of his shoulders. He gets into a steady rhythm with it, crashing into you with precise deliberate strokes, designed to make your head spin. He grits his teeth once more, his breath going ragged.
“Javier.” He pants, gripping your waist to hold you still. For a brief moment you almost see vulnerability in his eyes. 
“Just like that, Javier.” You stammer out as he bends one of your legs up, pressing you into the mattress further as he throws your ankle over his shoulder, the new angle letting him fuck far deeper into you than you even thought possible. The soft and slow Javier starts to dissipate as he bares his teeth, his breath hot and heavy through his tense jaw as he slams into you. The second orgasm building in your stomach isn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before, it’s molten inside of you, threatening to burst as he brings a hand to your clit.
“Shit- tell me when you’re close.” He growls, your vision’s already blurring again as an unfamiliar pressure settles within you. 
“I- I am.” You pant out, he accentuates each thrust with a grunt and you feel yourself slip as he applies the slightest pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re positive you’ve never come like this before, you soak his cock, a flood of your release pulses out of you as you strangle his cock. He collapses into you, your orgasm sending him over his own edge. You feel him throbbing within you as he groans into the pillow next to you. The two of you lay in a sweaty, breathless heap for a moment until he pulls out of you with a hiss, rolling over, his chest heaving as he lays beside you. 
“Now do you believe that I don’t hate you?” He gasps out. 
“I might need a little more convincing.” You grin, reaching behind you to turn your lamp off before rolling yourself over so you're on top of him.
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a/n : I have a very serious love hate relationship w this.
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 3 months
Text
Same Ol' Same Ol'
A VERY LATE Kinktober Day Six Prompt: "I Missed You"
Warnings: Language, smut, references to breakups
A/N: based on the song Still by Liv Dawson
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Everything's still the same.
It's oddly comforting and painfully nostalgic how Jack still smells the same, you notice, taking in his scent as your lips press against his shoulder, his body weight heavy but welcome atop yours. He's still wearing the cologne you bought him for your second anniversary, the same one he insisted he hated during one of your last fights.
Everything's still the same.
Your right hand instinctively pulls at his chestnut curls at the back of his head, your left fingertips digging into his lower back, guiding his rhythm as he snaps his hips into you, leaving you breathless with each thrust. He's as desperate to take himself to the hilt inside of you as you are to feel every inch of him. Its almost too much, the feeling of being full and stretched out. You struggle to grip the sheets to steady yourself against the bed, feeling your core tighten as his pelvis grinds against your clit. Your moans are the sweetest thing he's heard in the longest time, a fervent reminder of what he once had.
Everything's still the same.
Jack's large hands frame your face, with his nose nuzzled into your neck, his scruffy beard scratchy against your cheek. You can count how each pant in your ear matches his strokes, your breaths in tandem as if you'd practiced this before.
You have practiced this before, many times. In this bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counter. There isn't an inch of this apartment where you haven't been intimate, not a spot where you haven't moaned Jack's name over and over, and still you feel like a stranger in what was once your home.
Everything's still the same.
Its pure muscle memory, the way your body molds around his, how quickly he can bring you to orgasm because he knows your most sensitive spots. "Is this okay?" Jack quietly grunts out, already knowing that it is, and you barely give a nod before letting out a sharp breath as his thumb presses against your sensitive bud, drawing agonizingly small circles. There isn't a spot on your body that he doesn't know like the back of his hand, and he's determined to exploit every one of your pleasurable weaknesses, not sure when he'll get the chance again.
Surely the two of you won't make the same mistake twice.
Everything's still the same.
After three years of being in these same sheets, mastering each other's bodies, discovering the things that make you tick and the one's that piss him off, everything is second nature. If you close your eyes tight enough, you can almost pretend that you aren't hooking up with your ex, only 10 months after your breakup.
Almost.
His name rolls off your tongue with ease as he brings you hurdling toward your orgasm, your nails digging into his back. You're impossibly close when Jack lifts his chest to hover over you. You open your eyes, blinking through your lashes as you feel yourself start to lose your orgasm due to the change in position. His pace never falters, his hands leaving the bed to press down on your hip bones, changing the angle of his thrusts, his cock brushing against your g-spot each time he drives in and out of you.
It was only seconds before waves of pleasure were washing over you, your fingers and toes tingling from overstimulation. Jack’s hips stuttered as he came, his body convulsing as he filled the condom. He collapsed down on the bed next to you, his arm draped over your stomach as he closed his eyes.
Jack was always gifted in bed, but adorably predictable, with only a few moves under his belt that he always returned to. You knew them all, had come to love them over time, and you immediately noticed how different he was now.
His virility was renewed, there was a hunger to him that you'd never had the pleasure to witness.
Had he been with someone else since you'd broken up?
How many other women had been in the same bed the two of you had picked out when you moved in together?
You knew you had no right to question him, you weren't together anymore, but still it felt like the biggest betrayal. You didn't try to hide the tears brimming in your lashes, knowing you could attribute them to overwhelming pleasure instead of sadness.
Jack peaked out at you through his right eye, noticing your tears immediately. "Are you okay?" He moved to hover over you again, this time resting his weight to the side, his hand cradling your face. You nodded, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth to stop you from crying. "What happened?", he searched your features, his heart racing at the thought that he was too rough and maybe had hurt you.
"I'm fine", you finally breathed out, "just tired." You pushed him off of you, gathering the flat sheet to cover your body and shuffling to the bathroom, the door slamming behind you. You tightened the sheet around your chest, frantically wiping the tears from your cheeks. You look pitiful in the mirror, a strong juxtaposition to the confidence you had when you walked through the door just a few hours ago.
You were the one who called Jack, finally able to pull yourself together enough to do your hair and put on makeup. You wanted him to see how good you were doing, at least as much as you could pretend, how you had moved on to bigger and better things, but it only took a little sweet talking and a few glasses of wine before you were underneath him, proving just how weak you truly were.
You searched the drawers for eyedrops to get rid of the redness from crying. All of the toiletries were still arranged the way you liked, by category of item. Jack was never that organized. It always drove you up the wall how simultaneously messy and a control freak he could be at the same time. You found the eye drops at the back of the drawer, the same place you left them.
Everything's still the same.
A knock at the door startled you, making you drop the tiny plastic bottle. "Everything okay in there?" You could hear the concern in Jack's voice.
"Yeah, just a second", you called out, squeezing a few drops into each eye, blinking away the artificial tears. You just needed to fake it for a few more minutes and you could get out of here, and all of this would be a very disappointing memory. You took a deep breath as you opened the door, plastering a fake smile on your face. Jack stood back, taking in your figure.
"Just needed to pee", you lied, pushing past him to your pile of clothes that were resting on the chair in the corner. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab dinner or something." Jack was hopeful that this would turn into more than a ill advised hookup between exes. You chuckled as you slipped your sweater over your head and pulled your jeans over your hips.
When you turned, Jack was still standing there, his chest bare, boxers sitting low on his hips, his brow knitted together.
"I don't think that's a good idea." You grabbed your handbag and shoes, placing them in the crook of your arm. "Actually, I know its not a good idea."
"Why? If you didn't think it was a good idea, why did you come here?" He crossed his arms over his chest, his fingertips digging into the spaces of his ribcage. "I-uh, I don't know. I'm sorry, I don't think I should have come at all." That pooling of warmth in your stomach that you felt from pleasure was quickly replaced by an uneasy knot that tightened with every passing second.
"Don't be sorry, be honest with me. What's wrong?"
You took in a few breaths, your gaze falling to the floor. You felt stupid for asking, but it would nag at you forever if you didn't. "Have you been with anyone else in our- this house?"
You could see the breath hitch in Jack's chest. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped over. "No. No, I haven't seen anyone else since we broke up." You weren't sure why, but you believed him. You never thought Jack would hurt you, but he would have stroked his own ego and told you if he had. "Have you?", he looked like he'd be sick if you said yes.
"Uh, no." He knew the answer by the look of sadness in your eyes but he still needed to hear the word. "Everything is the same here, like I never left." Your tone wasn't accusatory, you were just stating a fact as you looked around the bedroom.
"I know. I couldn't change anything." He wrung his hands out, his chin dropping to his chest. "I didn't want to change anything." He was hoping that you'd come back one day, and he wanted to be ready for that, leaving everything the way you had it. He knew that you'd like that.
"Why did you let me in, Jack? You knew this was a bad idea just as I did, and yet here we are." The two of you could try to blame each other for your misgivings till you were blue in the face, but you were both adults, both capable of making your own choices.
"I missed you." His confession surprised you, your eyes starting to sting with tears immediately. "I wish I had some better excuse, because I know it doesn't change anything, but I missed you. I had to see you." He ran a hand through his messy curls, looking to you for a reaction.
God, he missed every inch of you. The way you smelled, the sound of your voice, the way you felt beneath his touch. Now that he had a taste of what he so desperately missed, he knew there was no way he was letting you go again. He just needed you to feel the same way. He need you to miss him, too.
He felt lightheaded as you began to speak. "I missed you too. There isn't a day where I don't miss you, Jack." You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but you didn't feel any relief. It was just replaced by the weight of the guilt of choosing to do something you knew wasn't right. Jack didn't care, he felt no remorse. It was the wrong thing to do, but the right person to do it with.
"Then stay. Please." Begging wasn't in Jack's nature, but he'd bloody his hands and knees for you.
The room was quiet, the air stifling between the two of you. If you did this, there was no going back. If you stayed, you were making a choice to possibly go back to the fighting, to the uncertainty, to the insecurities the two of you held from one another. That weight would never leave you, always sitting on your shoulders, crushing you, but you would be with someone who you didn't want to live without. As much as you tried to deny it, you couldn't live without Jack.
You stood, taking gentle steps toward him, settling in between his legs. You guided his hands to the button of your jeans, Jack taking over and pushing your jeans down past your hips. He pressed a wet kiss to your stomach, just above your belly button, making you shiver. You pulled your sweater over your head as he toyed with the waistband of your panties, snapping it against your delicate skin.
"What are you doing?" He asked, looking up at you through his long lashes, his blue eyes shining in the ambient lighting.
"Staying", you whispered, pushing him down on the bed by the shoulders. You were making your choice, one that you'd been desperate to make since the two of you broke up almost a year ago.
Everything's still the same.
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 9 months
Note
Female reader x top lady lesso with strap, at the end of it all readers shaking, out of breathe, can't really move anymore is what I been asking for the longest
Hey hey hey anon! You asked & I’ll gladly deliver. Added ask @ladylessowife —‘Could you maybe do 48 with Lesso pls?’ Hope you all Enjoy ♥️
I’ll Rock Your World ~Top!Lady Lesso xFem Reader
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Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
#48. “Watch your mouth...”
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, overstimulation, eating out, strap-fucking, kissing, praise kink, lovely aftercare, etc.
Enjoy (;
“No one’s ever made you climax? Like only yourself…??” Lesso surprisingly asked you.
“Yep. None of my past partners or hookups have ever been able to… you know…”
“Make you cum?” Lesso bluntly stated.
Blush crept up your cheeks lightly.
Maybe this wasn’t the best thing to confess to the woman you’d been seeing but hadn’t been intimate with yet…
“Yeah…” you admitted in a whisper.
Lesso stared at you with her mouth agape. But she also noted your sensitivity to the subject.
“Wow… I mean, I’m sorry no one’s been able to please you well…” she comforted.
You shrugged your shoulders.
“I’ve just come to the conclusion that I do it best.”
At this, the red head cocked an eyebrow at you.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, I just know my body better than they all did, I guess.”
“Watch your mouth...” Lesso teasingly warned you, “Don’t challenge me, baby…”
“What…?” You chuckled.
“I’d have you cumming over and over again until your body goes limp…” Lesso confidently purred.
“Don’t be so sure…” you mumbled.
Lesso then got up and walked over to you, cupping your chin and raising it to her standing form.
“If you decide to give me that chance, I would most definitely.” She lovingly purred.
“Thank you, Baby…” you whispered, smiling lovingly up at her.
~~~
Throughout the next week, you thought about what Lesso had said. And the whole idea made you curious.
Dating the one and only dean of evil was one thing…
Fucking the one and only dean of evil was a whole added thing…
But you wanted the woman. Even if your expectations were let down once again. You wanted to try.
So, that evening, you walked into Lesso’s office with an agenda on your mind. You closed the door behind you and plopped yourself right in the red heads lap.
“Hey…!” Lesso playfully exclaimed, “I’m working he—!”
Your lips were on hers before she could finish her statement. Your lips kissed the red heads with fervor and passion, which Lesso eagerly reciprocated. Your hips ground into her lap, and the red heads hands eagerly gripped your hips to aid your grindings. You both needily moaned into the kiss.
Eventually, you both had to pull away for oxygen. Lesso was staring at you with a big fucking smirk and wide eyes.
“God, you’re allowed to interrupt my work anytime now, baby…” she breathlessly groaned.
You giggled lightly, not stopping your grindings into her lap.
“I’m ready. I want you…” you whispered, attaching your hot mouth to the red heads pressure point.
Lesso let out a guttural groan as her head flung back. But she was quick to check herself as she processed your words.
“Are you sure, Baby…?” She breathlessly asked.
You bit your lip and nodded, going to crash your lips back into the red heads eagerly, but you were stopped by her hand.
“There’s no need to rush…” She purred, “Let me take care of you…”
“Ok…” you panted, your heart racing.
“First things first, if I do something you don’t like and want me to change say ‘yellow’, and if you just want me to stop all together say ‘red’… Understand?”
“I understand…”
Lesso smiled at your agreement. She then scooped you up and carried you to her private quarters, dropping you below her on her bed.
“What do you want, Baby…?” She taunted.
“I… Fuck me—please…” you stuttered.
Lesso’s eyes twinkled with lust.
“Alright, I’ll be right back…”
Lesso left to go into her closet, and she came back out in nothing but her undergarments and her blue strap-on dick. You eyes widened and you bit your lip, nodding eagerly. But the red head tutted you off.
“Not yet, Baby… First, I want to taste you.”
Her words made you melt on the spot. You immediately stripped off all your clothes and opened your legs wide for the blonde.
“Someone’s eager aren’t they…?” Lesso teased.
You playfully stuck your tongue out in response, but your face quickly contorted into a silent scream of pleasure when Lesso caught you off guard by swiftly sliding her tongue through your folds. The red head continued to lap away at your folds, slowly building to your climax.
“Oh, OHHhHhhhH—!!” You moaned out, grasping Lesso’s red hair tightly.
“Hmmmm, you like that baby…?” The red head taunted.
You nodded vigorously.
“Please… whatever you’re doing… don’t stop…!!” You whimpered.
Lesso lowered her mouth back down to your heat.
“Oh baby…” she chuckled, “I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon…”
That skilled tongue of Lesso’s edged you all the way right up to the edge of your high.
“You gonna cum for me, Baby…?” She lustfully cooed.
Your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
“Yes yes, so close please please Leo—!!”
“Uh uh, eyes open, baby…”
You opened your hooded eyes and the view of the red head in between your legs sent you over the edge.
~~~
“I… God Fuck me Leo please—!!” You whimpered.
You couldn’t take anymore of her teasing, skilled tongue. You wanted to be filled by her. Fully.
“Alright, Baby…” The red head lustfully chuckled.
~~~
You cried out in pleasurable pain as Lesso continued to pound into you through your upteenth orgasm of the night.
“Yesss Baby…” the red head lustfully hissed, “I know my dick feels so good…”
Your mouth spewed more incoherent mewls and cries, your hands fisted in the bed sheets, and your head rolled back in overwhelming pleasure.
“But why are you crying…?” She taunted, “Isn’t this what you asked for?”
You let out a guttural moan as the woman hit that sweet spot deep inside you, and you nodded vigorously.
“Do you want me to stop…?” Lesso wickedly purred, “See, i don’t think you do… Not by the way your juices are spilling out of your cunt… Not by the way your crying out my name…”
“No no no don’t stop GOD don’t stop—!!” You cried out.
Lesso continued to rut into you with skill, only pushing you further to your next climax.
“That’s okay, Baby… Keep crying and I’ll let you cum on my dick as many times as you’d like…” She purred.
You merely mewled and nodded in response.
“My pretty crybaby…” Lesso cooed.
~~~
You didn’t usually like being proved wrong, but in this case… so worth it.
You were still shaking and all trembly as Lesso finally put the strap away. She came up to you, pulling you close to her so that she could properly clean you up. She gently washed your thighs clean and you spasmed every once and a while from how sensitive you were. Your breathing was labored and still extremely out of it.
“Shhhhh, You did so good, baby, so good…” the red head cooed, cleaning around your heat with a warm rag.
Afterwards, the red head pulled you into her form, causing you to whine slightly at your sore figure being moved.
“Shhhhhh, just cuddle into me, sweet girl…” she cooed.
You were quick to fall asleep in the red hair’s arms.
~~~
Lady Leonora Lesso Masterlist
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golbrocklovely · 6 months
Text
cultish love // colby brock
A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !
prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock
trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely
word count: 8610
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I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.
Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?
They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.
But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?
These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.
I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.
~~~~
Day 1 - Investigation
I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.
Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.
The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.
I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.
The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.
A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.
I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.
I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.
I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.
I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.
Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.
I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.
Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.
She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.
I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."
Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.
I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.
If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.
I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.
Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.
A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:
Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."
Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."
Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."
It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.
I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."
I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.
Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.
It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.
A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.
~~~~
Day 2 - Interview with Colby
I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.
So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.
And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.
I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.
I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.
Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.
He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.
I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....
I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.
I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.
He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."
I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"
"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"
He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."
I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"
"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."
I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”
It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."
Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"
Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!
He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."
I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.
He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”
Intimacy?
“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”
I guess so...
“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”
I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.
Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.
I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.
I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.
The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.
But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.
I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.
One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.
And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.
A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"
I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.
"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."
I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.
And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."
I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.
"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."
I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?
I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).
But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.
~~~~~~
Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.
I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.
Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"
"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.
"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.
"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.
"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."
I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.
I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."
Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.
"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.
"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.
He blinked. "Group, you mean."
I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."
He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."
We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.
Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."
"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.
Jesus, that was creepy.
"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.
The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.
"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.
Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”
My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.
Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"
I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.
I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."
"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."
The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."
"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.
"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.
Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.
The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.
She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."
Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."
My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?
I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.
The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.
"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."
~~~~~~
It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.
The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.
I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.
I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.
“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.
I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”
He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”
I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”
He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”
I glared, “You think?”
“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.
“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”
“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”
“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.
“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”
I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”
“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.
I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.
I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”
“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.
I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.
It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?
An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.
"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.
"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.
"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.
“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.
How did he know I was still far away?
I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.
The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.
“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.
I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.
How is any of this happening?
He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”
My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.
“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.
I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“
He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”
I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”
He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”
The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.
What the fuck is this?
“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”
“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.
"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."
He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"
My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”
“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”
He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”
“You're insane.” I mumbled.
He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”
It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.
“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.
“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.
“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”
Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.
“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.
A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”
“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”
"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."
“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”
“Fuck you.” I growled.
“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”
I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.
Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.
I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.
He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”
I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.
He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”
“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.
“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”
“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”
“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.
I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.
“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”
“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.
He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”
Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.
“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”
"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?
"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."
The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.
I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.
His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."
"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.
His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”
“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.
"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."
"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.
“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.
I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."
"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."
"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.
“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”
Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.
I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.
“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”
“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.
“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”
I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."
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Text
Kinktober Prompt ~ Sex Tape
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Captain Price x Reader
NSFW (18+), Shameless Smut, Explicit Detail, Groping, Fingering, Nipple-Play, Oral (Female Receiving), AFAB!Reader Long-Distance, Sex Tape, Scarcely Proofread, Kinktober
I typed this at work today... (._. ')
Masterlist
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Price never thought he would be one for sex tapes; the idea of them always felt so self-incriminating. Physical, video evidence of your most intimate moments shared in the privacy of your own home. And for what exactly, keepsakes? A trophy?
Stuff like that always seemed better kept as memories in the confines of his own head, rather than in a form that could possible be leaked to the world. He wanted those parts of you to be for his eyes only.
Though one particular deployment had made him ponder the usefulness of such videos. Six months he'd been gone, not the longest stretch you've both pushed through, though still long enough for the little details to start blending about with each other -- The distinct taste of your tongue against his, or the softness of your skin and how your breath would muffle against his shoulder, biting back sharp moans. He feared the day he'd forget that warm, tight feeling of you as he's let himself slip in, feeling you clench over his cock like a tailored glove. The thought of it made this distance most treacherous.
If he had a video of you with him now it would be enough to help reignite those little details that loved to slip away so easily to time. He really only needed a small refresher too, a few seconds of you even. Just something long enough for him to reshape the image of you and the scene in his mind as he took care of himself late at night in passing.
He hadn't appreciated what it could mean to be able to see you at your most love-drunk and vulnerable state, again and again at the tap of a finger. To just be able to pop a headphone in at night and replay your moans in his ears like a song, listening to each pitch made as he thrusted himself in you, pulling them from you like a composer at work.
Price could rewatch his best moments with you, see your face from new angles as you desperately clung to him, cooing words of appraisal in his ear and running your fingers through his hair. Watch your body shake and tremble as you cry his name out and have it rattle the bedroom walls. He could study every detail of you as he wished with a video; touch himself at all the right moments, mimicking these memories with his hand the best he can. He couldn't feel you through the video, sure, but he damn well could see you.
So it's safe to say when he returned home, he'd been more than eager to the idea, and thus you'd been equally willing and passionate to oblidge.
You picked something nice to wear the night you both decided to record your little home movie. Lacy, black lingerie that showed just the right amount of skin to make the man mad, wanting to peel the fabric from you.
He kept the camera in his hand as he touched you, watching through the screen as his strong hands glided down your neck, slowly to find your breast. He doesn't waste time with pushing the bra away, lightly plucking at your now exposed nipples and rolling them between his fingers.
With all of you here to him like this, Price could often be impatient and even greedy with how he touched you, being a bit of a glutton for pleasing you. For this little movie he holds back, however. Just enough to put on a show for the cameras. He had to make this worth it after all.
He spreads you apart with his two fingers, letting his thumb tease your hole and create web like lines between you and the bed. At each touch he teases against your clit he rubs slowly, making sure the pad of his thumb flicked and massaged you just right. You're light whimpers and moans excite him enough to let his two fingers finally slip in you, knowing both the sound of your voice and the visceral noises your pussy made as he fingered you would pick up nicely on video.
He gropes and paws at your breast as though he were just discovering them for the first time, wanting to take his time and let the moment really settle in the video. His hands move down your abdomen, hooking between the hem of your underwear and following the lining all the way to the center of you. He peels your panties to the side slowly, teasing you both before he's finally taken full view of you, letting his fingers gently come back to your folds and slide between them, your slick and warmth dampening them instantly.
"You're always such a soaking mess for me, sweetheart," Price can't help but comment, his chuckle hitched in his breath somewhat, gaze still enamored by you and all your glory.
"John..." you moan. "...I want you in me already..."
"Mm, I know you do, love," the man purrs at you, his voice humming down through your core about as pleasurably as his fingers. "Let me play a little and enjoy you some more before I do though, yeah? For keepsakes."
You almost chuckle at his little comment, but he leaves little time for reply before you've felt a wet tongue swipe up between your folds, a hot mouth cupping over your clit as his tongue flicked and played with you, the camera still in one hand and his other fingering you ferociously. From there the only thing your lungs can do is suck in the air and release it out in moans.
Price already couldn't wait to hear them later.
💞💖
345 notes · View notes
theanimekid · 1 year
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Your King Awaits
You’re King Awaits
Warnings⚠️💢🖤: SMUT, 18+, praise kink, monarch kink, size kink, degradation, kidnapping, shadows calling you "Queen", with a puff of fluff
A/n: I felt inspired by a Sung Jin Woo post and so I made one with a little kick. I'm still on the manga but I'll try my best. This is the longest story I have ever written.
Plus Bonus Surprise!🎁(I'll write on a different post)
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Prompts:
" Will you-you go out on a date with me?"
"Harm my queen again, and you will pay with your life"
" You are my queen and thus I will treat you like one."
"Come to Your King"
"You're serious?"
Pre and Second Awakening (flashbacks)
You have known him since he was 'the weakest hunter in the world' You were an A-rank at the time. But out of all the hunters in the guild, only you became friends with him, an E-rank hunter friends with an A-rank hunter.
You loved his company. You love how much of a sweetheart he was. Kind, loving, and you developed a tiny crush on him.
He loved your company as well. Whenever you were around him, his heart skipped beats every time, always blushing when your presence was there, always saving your ass when he was in trouble.
But everything changed since that day. The day he saved yours but not the other way around. You blamed yourself for being there to protect him as you should.
Until, one day, a call from his sister Jin-ah said that her brother was in the hospital. Your body felt like collapsing to the floor, but not yet. You told her you were on her way and rushed to the hospital. You ran into his hospital room and jumped into his arms. You whimpered into his chest, " I-I-I'm so sorry, I left you behind in that place even though you told me to save myself but… I-I couldn't bear the thought of losing you and-" He silenced your whimpers with his lips pressed against yours, feeling his love for you. "I know, and I'll promise you this I'll make sure you won't have to worry about me anymore." He spoke calmly with a small smile on his face as he wiped the tear on your cheek. You smiled back.
He gently pushed you off his chest, " A-Also, there's something else I wanna ask you," He stuttered, finally getting the courage to say it, " Will you-you go out on a date with me? After I get admitted from the hospital?" He muttered as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, hiding the blush on his face.
You nodded, "yes, you goofball, I will go out on a date with you if you're paying for it." You added jokingly.
He slowly raised his head to meet your eyes, " You mean it?"
"Definitely."
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It's been months since the last time you met your boyfriend. You've been so busy with work that you almost forgot to check up on him, even though he told you not to worry about him, it wouldn't help just make sure he's doing alright.
As you grabbed for the bag sitting on the table and your keys, the phone buzzed in your long tan jacket. 'Who the hell is calling at this hour?' you thought as you reached for your phone, 'I swear if it's another raid on my day off, I'm gonna hurt someone.'
As you opened the phone, a notification popped on your screen. From an unknown number and a message saying: Y/n, can please talk?. You felt the world go black, your hand carrying the phone trembling. You felt this feeling before. It had to be him. Who else could it be? How did he find me?! But you shook your head, 'I can't be worried about that now.'
As you opened the phone, a notification popped on your screen. From an unknown number and a message saying: Y/n, can please talk?. You felt the world go black, your hand carrying the phone trembling. You felt this feeling before. It had to be him. Who else could it be? How did he find me?! But you shook your head, 'I can't be worried about that now.'
But you didn't want to worry about that. So you deleted the message and headed out the door.
As you secretly tiptoed toward Jinwoo's door, only to see. That it wasn't him? This man was in his room doing pushups. His body was well-toned, abs showed on display, and sweat came down all over his body. You couldn't stop staring, feeling your face warming like the first day of spring.
As he finished his push-ups, he stood up again, grabbed the towel on the metal bar of the bed, and wiped the sweat off his manly chest. Before he'd placed the towel back where it was, he turned to see you standing at the door, carrying a white bag with containers in them. You were prettier the last time he saw you. And; seeing that faint tint of pink on your cheeks.
There was silence between the two of you, Both staring at each other blankly. " Ummm..." you mumbled as you felt a lob at your throat as you swallowed thickly, cheek still pink as ever, "J-J-Jin-woo?"
He beamed and shyly answered, " Um- H-hi y/n-ah, Umm *gulp* You look different." "That's nothing compared to you! You're sexy!!" You blurted out, not knowing that your face was even pinker than usual. Jinwoo started stammering, his face now feeling red. " I-I think you look great as well, and you're prettier than usual... so-so yeah," he felt as though he made the conversation a lot more embarrassing. You emptied your throat, regaining your composure. You held out the white bag in front of you, " I figured you might be peckish so I made us some meals."
He sighed while grasping the white bag away from you," You're a lifesaver, y/n-ah, thank you." He placed the white bag on the small tableland on his infirmary mattress. As you trekked over to sit down, Jin-woo went to shut the door behind you. As the door closed, he turned to you, already sitting on his infirmary mattress and pausing for him to sit down. He walked his way toward you, only not to realize that he left his infirmary shirt on the floor, Jin-woo strode on it, and he was misstepping toward you. You tried to stop him from collapsing on top of you, but you accidentally dragged him down on the bed with you.
The bed shook as the two of you both made it on impact, The light of the sun. Shimmering through the blinds, you both stared at each other. He looked deep into your eyes. Shimmered. Like crystals into the light. She truly is beautiful, he thought. Jin-woo consciously lowered his body, finding himself between your legs. Your flustered gaze never left his, as lips slightly caressing your lips, hands wondering at your body, finding your shirt. He took a small chunk of your shirt and felt the softness of your skin.
The situation turned into a hot make-out session, neither of you backing down from the other. But that would come to a halt as Jin-Ah, decided to visit her brother at the wrong time. " Hey you two, I got some food, if want so-" She paused. She blinked twice to make sure. Her brother isn't making out with a girl. Nope, he is! " I'm telling mom!" She shouted as he ran excitedly out of the hospital.
He turned his attention towards you, embarrassment written on his face. You giggled as you gave him a small peck on the lips. " Looks like there's going be chatter shortly," you said.
Yeah, A lot of chatter
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Weeks went by, and the two of you became closer and closer. You are his comfort whenever he is down.
The thought of losing was possible. There was a time when Jin-woo thought he'll lose you forever, but you weathered again and again. Then, your second awakening happened. Heaven's Soul. During your raid. The S-rank monster was about to discontinue you off until a bright light shined in you, shining bright as the sun, making your hair go completely white. As you walked out of the gate, Jin-woo hurried by your side, noticing your white hair and appearance. He asked what happened inside the dungeon. You explained about your second awakening, and he understood the situation. From that time on, he would ask you to train with him, better to understand the limits of your new power. But, Like Jinwoo, you leveled up every time you battle; he was ingrained if, not a little desirous, because of how much attention from the other hunters you got.
Months turned into years, and the both of you got stronger and stronger. You both went to raids as a couple. Some would try to separate the other but failed. You loved your boyfriend till the end of time, and he loved you no matter what, no one can ever take you away from him.
But everything changed in an instant.
He wasn't the exact Jin-woo you came to know. He'd changed. But you changed too. Things didn't actually end well with the two of you. You went your separate way. Nights alone in your home became something new yet not new at all. Times when you really didn't want to be alone.
Your phone ranged once more; you didn't feel like taking any more raids at this gloomy time. You picked up the phone from your nightstand, unlocked it, and went to your messages. The unknown number called you again for the 25th time this year. You didn't want to deal with any of this, not right now. A shadow rose behind your bed and snatched you out of your trance. You struggled out of anxiety, not knowing what the hell. Is going on around you. The attacker slammed you into the wall, knocking you out unconscious.
Your eyes blurred out, regaining consciousness. To see that you are blindfolded and in an abandoned work site. Chains rattled on top of the ceiling. You felt terrified. You tried to escape your bonds, but nothing was working, "Please don't try and struggle," a voice called out from the darkness, walking towards the empty light in the room. The man had removed his mask to reveal that it was your ex. "Those bonds are rarely special, made specifically for you. Now you won't have to use your powers against me." He snickered as he trotted his way toward you. He grabbed hold of you into a hug, " I know we had our differences in the past. I know I messed up and scared you away… But now it's different. Now… I can finally have to myself again. You see, we're better together than with that other guy."
"No."
He pierced his eyes up to your comeback, not very pleased. "Say that again?" His teeth gritted. " No, I will not take you back. I won't go back to that life where I had to deal with your crazy theories. And-and abusive lifestyle, I despised myself for not stranding you sooner, and you made me think… that I needed you." You kicked him in the gut and groaned as he let go and coughed out blood.
" I never needed you, and I never wi-" He shouted as he slapped you across the face, leaving a bruised mark. HE yanked your chin and forced you to see him, even though you can't. " Shut it, you bitch! I will make you love me again, even if I have to compel you to do so."
He pulled a pair of knuckle braces out of his backpack. He pressed the small button on the sides, and a shot of electricity sparked over the steel braces. He gave them a quick shock on the wall before turning to you, the look of madness on his countenance. " Let's see if these bad boys will make you love me," he laughed evilly; as he scrambled snappy and walked to you.
He lifted his fist, and you screamed as you prepared for the worst. " Who dares threaten the life of my Queen?" A voice called out from the shadows. He quickly shifted around. " Who's there? Show yourself!". The tone in his voice feels paranoia and dread. He turned to you again, got behind you, and placed the knuckle brace near your throat. Before he could know what was happening around him, he didn't notice that his shadow was increasing bigger beneath him. Igris emerged from beneath him and grabbed him by the throat before launching him across the chamber. His body collided against the wall, screaming out of the pain he had gotten. Igris revealed his cloak, and the void opened as a man stepped out of the abyss. 
His cold icy stare glared at the man in front of him. Unwelcoming, bitter, but he only came to you in an instant. Worry and dread filled his gaze as he saw you tied in chains, your skin weakening from them. He cut off the chains with no effort as your body glowed once again to regain your powers. Your body was starting to heal. As you were about to collapse to the hard ground, Jin-woo carried you in his arms, wrapped around his black, long jacket to conceal your half-naked form. You felt relief burning in your soul as he carried you in his arms tightly, He took one last look at your ex before saying these words: "Harm my queen again, and you will pay with your life."
You have woken back inside your flat. Everything was cleaned and tidied up since the last time you left. You groaned as you slowly rose from the bed. You looked around your bedroom. The bathroom light is on and still rushing water from the shower. Curiously, you walked over to the bathroom door. A small gap was still opened, so you carefully took a peak as the showerhead had died down, and a shadow stepped out from the curtains. Jin-woo grabbed a towel from the closet behind him and wrapped the lower half of his body, only showing the v-line. You felt your heart squeezing you, biting your bottom lip. Damn, he's too sexy, you thought as Jin-woo dried his hair and disappeared from your vision. You blinked twice to figure out where he went.
"It's not right to spy on your king," Jinwoo's voice caught your attention as you quickly turned around to see him, now on your bed, the towel still wrapped around his lower half. Arms propped up on the bed and his legs crossed. Gesturing his finger and moving in a fluid motion. " Come to me. Come to your King" His tone was firm, teasing, and commanding. 
Flusteredly, you walked over to your shared bed. Too embarrassed to look at him, you slowly wriggle up his body. You can feel his crystal eyes staring down at you, his smile. Sneering, thinking that you're trying to hide your embarrassment. He took his two fingers to your chin and gently brought them to see his gaze. " You. would be even more beautiful beneath me," He said teasingly. As he flipped you over, and now you're lying on the bed while he's on top of you, You laid helplessly, passion-filled in your eyes. He smiled and dropped down and gave you a deep kiss. Tounge exploring the corners of the mouth, you felt dizzy. You broke off the kiss and spoke breathlessly, " what will you have your queen do, my liege?" All loss of innocence tainted your voice. Now you need him. His body tensed in excitement at your question. "Be a good girl and let me do all the work." He unbuttoned the shirt on your body. Revealing the soft-toned plump chest, nipples hardening in the cold air. Trying to hold his composure, he took one of the mounds into his mouth, sucking the nipple and nibbling as he groaned on your boob. You sighed at the feeling of his mouth on one boob and his hand working the other. He repeated the same movements on the other. He'd finish his assault by grabbing both breasts together and licking them both at the same time.
You groaned loud, your chest heaving in the cold air. Jinwoo chuckled darkly. As he trailed kisses and left tiny bite marks in his path. Your body felt alluring, warm. You need more. "Please, stop teasing so much." You pouted. He ceased his movements and looked at your pouted figure, still flustered after he assaulted your breasts. " Your my Queen, my partner, and thus I'll treat you like one." He spoke calmly. as he stood in between your thighs. He sighed and smirked, lifting your leg over his shoulder, and he tore off the shirt and tossed it on the floor. " But if you really want me to get serious then…. I'll fuck you like a slut." He bit a chunk of your inner thigh and dove his mouth into your cunt. You moaned louder, thighs clenching around his face as he explored your insides with his tongue. You're squirming all over, it's too much, too much.
You can feel you're at your peak approaching. Your breathing was starting to get heavy. " I-I'm gonna-" You whined as your climax came faster before you could finish your sentence. You can feel your peek approaching. Your breathing was starting to get heavy. " I-I'm gonna-" You whined as your climax came faster before you could finish your sentence. He slurped the remaining of your essence.
He stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. He licked his lips and gave you a small devilish smile. He wasn't done with you. Not by a long shot, he removed the towel covering his lower half and revealed how painfully hard he was. He spread your legs a little bit more. He lined himself at your entrance, stroking his cock.
He slid himself into you as his iron grip held you in place. Inch by since his manhood entered your wet heat, you whined at the feeling of him. You want more, more. But his iron grip held you in place, keeping you from squirming.
" You're taking me in so well," he praised as he was only halfway inside of you. The stretch was unbearable, even though you have gotten used to his size, it never fails to put you on the edge. His praises and whispering sweet nothings in your ear kept you afloat until he was completely inside.
His thrusts were slow and steady to rough and desperate.
You gripped the sheets below you. You moaned and cried out his name like a chant as the bed shook. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, napping and licking the skin.
Your cunt clenching around his length, squeezing for him, screaming for him. Your close, so close.
You came around him. hard. He soon followed after.
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You both laid there, Bare naked and exhausted. You laid at your side close to his chest and heard his heartbeat. Jinwoo traced his fingers in our back as he nuzzled into your hair.
"Satisfied?" You asked. still recovering from your intensely orgasm. Your body laid limp against the sheets.
"I still hate the thought of him touching you like that, and you were kidnapped without my notice." He replied back, he rested his hand in your cheek, and you sighed against his warmth.
He truly is the luckiest man alive and it’s gets better. He got up from the bed and reached underneath the pillow he was laying on. A small black box appeared on his hand and sat back down. “ I wanted to wait until tomorrow, but afternoon seeing that... tomorrow can’t wait. I love since the day that i met you, you wee always by my side despite everything that’s happened to me, and i was lost, you were here, the light that keeps me going. I nevertheless happier when i’m with you. Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” He opened the boxes to reveal a beautiful purple diamond ring in place.
“You serious?”You asked, He nodded.
“Then, yes. Yes, i do.”
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