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sinsofsummers · 10 months

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sensational; part iii

6.1k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader part one | part two

summary: joel continues teaching you everything you need to know about desire. warnings: smut smut smut, 18+, mdni. yearning, teasing, thigh-sitting, grinding, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), fingers in mouth, joel almost loses control, age gap (reader is 25, joel is 56). i think that's everything. suchhhh impaired(drunk) editing. i'm so osrry. note: here it is. about a week later than i had planned. but i turned 21. cut me some slack HAHAHHAHA i hope you enjoy this unintentional third part to sensational! note: special shoutout to @cavillscurls bc she not only requested that joel call reader "babygirl" at least once but also that there be some aftercare so....this one's all for u pretty girl i hope your day is an easy one <3 ty for being my very first friend on here wahhh

Joel was used to the chill in his bones. It had been there since his thirty-sixth birthday, and had hardly begun to slip away until he'd met that quiet girl with a fiery spirit like his daughter. Ellie had made the icy tension thaw, and then he met her, the woman who'd begun to melt his very insides.

Was it her curiosity that was so...endearing? Astute? An inevitable addition to his patrols with her? Or was it the fact that she'd begun to smile when she saw him, if only a tight-lipped grin that emitted a soft glow like a secret shared with whispers?

He wasn't quite sure he even wanted to know what it was that had him hardening at the sight of her. So instead of thinking about it—something he wasn't very good at, anyway—Joel returned to his current position in the present moment.

He was on horseback, his gloved hands tightened on the reins, and she was perched in front of him, her back pressed gingerly to his chest and her thighs warming the insides of his.

Joel's mind wandered to the morality of his intentions, as they usually did when she was this close to him. What's she want with you, old man? That voice loved to pester him all day long, but he shoved it away this time when he pretended to adjust his hands on the reins. The movement made his arms tense around her frame, and other than her head tilting back to nudge his chin, there was no response. He thanked the horse for its strong, rocking movements that kept her body tense and pressed into his.

This girl is gonna be the death of me, he mused. And what a painless death it would be.

—

Despite the fact that you were entirely okay with this turn of events, you couldn't ignore the instinctual worry that bit at your insides. When you'd shown up at the stables that morning, Joel had already arrived, leading his horse by the reins.

"C'mon, doll," he said in that rough morning voice that was so attractive. "You're ridin' with me today."

Your brows had furrowed, and you looked toward the stables. "What about—"

Joel had shaken his head and held out a gloved hand for you. "Your horse is no good today," he said (with a less-than-convincing note of sorrow in his voice, but why would he show emotion for once in his life?), clearing his throat before finishing, "just you, me, and this one today," with a nod to his horse.

"Is he gonna be okay?" you asked as you took his hand, the heavy weight of his grip returning to you as a comfort now. "What's wrong with him?" He led you forward, but you couldn't help glancing back once more as if you were a kid getting dragged away by her parents from a candy store.

He squeezed your hand and smiled softly at you. "Gimme your hands, sweet girl," he murmured.

You obeyed without a second thought and let him help you up, the winter wind whipped around your hair despite it being trapped in your usual knit hat. His hands tightened around your hips as he booted you up, and you mourned the moment they left your body. Of course, that sensation didn't last long; he clambered up and mounted right behind you.

Oh. You hadn't considered that this would be the solution to your horse being incapable of patrolling today. Maybe this won't be so bad, you thought, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the chill. You let out a shaky breath at the press of his chest against your back.

"My horse?" you asked once more, despite not quite caring anymore; his arms were now enveloping you as he began making his way to the edges of Jackson.

His sigh created a brief cloud of mist in the wintry air, and the vibrations of his voice rumbled through your body. "Broken leg," he explained quietly, and you felt more than heard his words.

You wanted nothing more than to let yourself sink into the feeling of being so close to him like this, with your hips nestled right in front of his pelvis (a fact that was bound to distract you soon enough), but you forced yourself to inquire a final time.

"A broken leg?" you said. You didn't mean for it to come off as disbelieving, but...your mount had been just fine the day before.

Joel shrugged and instead of answering, he leaned in closer to your ear, his chapped lips scratching against the soft skin near your neck; your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. "Darlin'," he murmured, "don't you trust me?" One of his hands dropped the reins and curled around your middle, tugging you by the waist back into him. "I've got so much to teach you today."

The reminder that there was still more, that there was always more for Joel to teach you in the world of desire and sin...it was enough to have your mind going blank and your muscles relaxing at his touch. "Okay," you mumbled, not sure if he could even hear your answer.

His gloved hand moved up just a few inches before moving back to grab the reins, but you didn't miss the feeling (if only for a second) of his fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breasts.

You sighed gently and leaned back enough for your head to rest against his chest, your body full encased by his broad shoulders and burly arms. It was secure, it was safe, and the heady scent of leather and Joel nearly made your head spin. With all the possibilities of what he might want to teach you today, on patrol and so close to one another...you weren't sure you'd survive.

It was only a matter of time before your hands and mind completely lost their withering hold on social decorum.

—

Joel's composure was the first to slip, but you weren't far behind—of course, you'd never admit it to him. You'd made it about an hour outside of Jackson, your body rocking deliciously against his, and nothing but the wind to accompany your soft voices as you spoke.

"Those girls haven't bothered me anymore, you know," you said, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. You nearly choked at the sight of him already looking down at you, his mustache twitching with his lips in a curious smirk. "Not sure what made them stop, though."

"S'good," he said, his jaw clicking before he continued. "But you're like an open book, doll," he said, eyes flitting back to his surroundings. "I'm sure they could see it on your face."

You huffed, cheeks warming again. "See what exactly?"

Joel reached down with a hand to run his fingers along your thigh, creeping closer to where a puddle of desire was growing between your legs. You leaned your head against his chest again and let out a wanton sigh, wishing his hands would creep closer to where you needed him most.

"That," he said, voice lilting with a satisfied arrogance. "It's that sweet face you make when you're wantin' somethin' from me."

"I don't have a face," you mumbled, your arms looping around his biceps and hanging on to them. It's terribly domestic, a voice murmured in your head, but you shoved it away. "What are you talking about?"

Joel leaned his head down to yours, his mouth in your hair. You felt him smile against your skin and he cooed, "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, babygirl." He moved his hand to your thigh once more and chuckled into your hair when you rolled your hips back into his. "Just let me make you feel good, sweetheart."

You wanted nothing more than to sink into his soft touches and whine his name until he brought you to the edges of ecstasy again, but the winter wind howled in your ears and reminded you that you couldn't afford to lose all composure. There was a very real reason you were on patrol; it would have been irresponsible to indulge in the sweet pleasure of Joel's touch.

And yet—you couldn't help it when you lifted your chin and pressed a swift kiss to his jaw, hoping beyond hope that it might prompt him to touch you, to kiss you, to do anything to relieve the familiar ache that was growing. It was all you could do not to begin begging right then and there.

So when he suggested that the two of you take a pit stop at one of the old abandoned cabins along your route, you nodded feverishly. It's not irresponsible if we're taking proper precautions, you convinced yourself.

"C'mon, dollface," he murmured, pulling the reins to a halt in front of a dilapidated shack in the wintry landscape. "Can't hardly focus with you rubbin' up against me like that."

The breathless chuckle that you let out sounded nothing like yourself; you were giddy with the impending pleasure that was about to come from Joel's lips, his fingers, anything that he might deem useful in bringing you another crumbling orgasm.

You practically fell off the horse into his arms with your tingling excitement, and Joel chuckled as your chest collided with his. “So eager, darlin’,” he mused, adjusting your knit hat where it had fallen below your eyes. “Makin’ me feel so special with that sweet face,” he said, his large hand snaking around your back to support you as the two of you traipsed through the snow to the cabin.

It was only a little alarming that his hands on your body were so familiar after just a few of his “lessons,” but you chose to ignore it and sink into the weight of his warm hands perforating your coat. “Joel,” you breathed, and you didn’t mean for it to sound so desperate, but you couldn’t help it.

Joel pushed open the door to the cabin—it took a few tries; it was frozen shut—and tied up his mount. “C’mere,” he whispered as soon as the door was shut behind you. His lips were on yours before you could suck in a breath of anticipation, and oh, how you loved the scrape of his chapped lips against your skin when he moved to press kisses to the line of your jaw.

“Been thinkin’ of you, dollface,” he mumbled when he pulled back, his breath fanning over your face. “Been thinkin’ of you a lot.”

You blinked up at him, your lips already wet and wanting for more of his attention. With that dark look in his eyes, he looked as if he might devour you without a moment’s notice. Despite your ever-present reticence toward the things that Joel had taught you so far, you couldn’t ignore the way that your mouth had dried, mind empty of all words.

“Yeah?” you managed, swallowing roughly. In pure humiliation, you leaned forward to hide your face in his chest, inhaling that comforting scent of leather—it both cleared and muddled your head.

He let out a rumbling chuckle, a looser laugh than you’d ever heard from him, and he placed his gloved hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back up to him. “Yeah,” he said gently, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Probably a little too much, considering I can hardly get through the night without gettin’ a hard-on.”

Your cheeks warmed as you blushed, and you instinctively tried to duck your head once more. Of course, Joel wouldn’t let you; he quickly rid his hands of his gloves and returned them to your cheeks, the chill of his fingertips contrasting with the heat of your cheeks. “You gonna kiss me again?” you asked, your voice small in its pleading. “Please?” you added, the syllable even quieter than the last.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel murmured, and you weren’t sure if it was to you or to himself. He pulled you closer, and you could feel the hard outline of his cock against your hip. “Gonna kill me, dollface,” he groaned before he captured your lips in another bruising kiss, one that had your legs buckling. He kept you upright, with his hands wrapped tightly around your back.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth into his kiss, hardly able to believe how natural it felt to kiss him now. A strangled moan left your mouth and he swallowed it into his own, drinking it like a sweet nectar from the gods. His hands came up to feverishly rid you of your winter coat and you eagerly assisted him, clawing at his layers right after.

“Teach me,” you begged, pulling away to catch your breath. Your eyes didn’t even open; you were too blissed out to care what you looked like or what he looked like in front of you. “Teach me,” the words came out again, and your bottom lip quivered as if you might shed tears. Your thighs clenched together subconsciously, doing virtually nothing to assist in the pressure that was growing.

Joel hummed and his thumb carefully swept a caressing touch under your eyes, as if catching any tears that might actually fall. “No need to beg anymore, babygirl,” he cooed, “I’ll teach you everything you want to know.” He tugged your hat from your head and smoothed over your undoubtedly knotted mess of locks. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he flashed a smirk at you.

“Promise?” you said, again in that small voice that had you almost kicking yourself. You were supposed to be an adult, mature enough to handle all of this. And you are, the voice in your head spoke harshly, you are.

Joel just nodded and tilted his head back, gesturing for you to follow him further into the cabin. “Stand there for me, doll,” he said, leading you into what must have been the living room some twenty years ago. A couch that looked like it might collapse in on itself sat against the wall, the only piece of furniture in the room.

You stood where he placed you, but his hands dropped from your body when he went to sit down on the couch. With one arm moving to lay across the back of the couch and his jean-clad legs spreading in the way that made you want to kneel in between them, Joel beckoned for you with his other hand. “Now c’mere,” he ushered, and you couldn’t move fast enough.

Your hands reached out to grab for him, to take off his coat and his shirt and let him lay bare before you like he had in your bed, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart,” he reassured you, “remember?”

You knew this; both times before this Joel had made it clear that you needn’t worry about getting him off. You were supposed to sit back and let him show you how to feel good, but you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to obey his request. You wanted nothing more than to sit on his lap like he’d had you the first time, and you wanted to rub yourself against his cock so you could see how he looked when he was lost in the throes of his desire.

“Babydoll,” he nudged you gently with his voice, and you blinked. “Hear me?”

Swallowing hoarsely, you shook your head. “Mm?” you hummed in response.

Joel’s lips curled up in a soft smirk. “Already distracted,” he mused to himself. A hand dropped to his thigh, and your eyes latched onto it. You had the sudden urge to take those fingers into your mouth, to feel the strength of his fingertips on your tongue—the fact that those same digits had been shining with your release (more than once) had your legs wobbling once more.

“You’re gonna stand there,” he said, adjusting himself on the couch in a way that had your eyes glued to the growing tent in his jeans, “and I’m gonna watch while you make yourself come.”

You blanched, and the spot between your legs pulsed at the idea. “What?” You couldn’t help the slight disappointment at the realization that this meant he wouldn’t be touching you.

“You heard me.”

“But…” your hands flexed, needing to hold onto something. Your desperation for release was almost enough to have you sinking to the floor. “But…I don’t know how—”

Joel nodded, “You do. I’ve shown you, remember?” His fingers tapped a few times on his thigh, and his eyes slipped to drag along your body as you stood just a few feet from him. “And you know I can’t always be there when you need to come, babydoll,” he hummed. “I need you to show me you’ve learned.”

“But—”

“Show me,” he said, his voice firm despite the gentleness in his face. He palmed his cock through his pants and bucked his hips up. “C’mon, baby. Be good for me, I’ll make it worth it.”

Despite his instructions, you shuffled forward, arms out and reaching for him. You paused in between his legs, feeling the heat from his legs radiating toward you.

But Joel only shook his head with an amused smirk. “No, no, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll come just as quick even if I’m just watchin’ you. I need you to show me what you’ve learned,” he repeated his previous instruction. “Touch yourself, sweet girl. Lemme see how you make yourself feel good.”

You didn’t move, unsure of how to begin—as it was now clear that he wouldn’t let you touch him, nor would he be giving into your requests. Standing there in your sweater and jeans and winter boots, you felt foolish.

“I know you know how to start, baby,” he encouraged you while moving his hand along his hard cock in his jeans. “Take those clothes off, pretty girl.”

With an instruction to follow, your hands began to move, ridding yourself of your sweater and pants, even your thick boots. Standing in just your worn bra, your cotton panties, and your thick wool socks, you looked shyly toward Joel. It felt somewhat humiliating to have his eyes so intently held on you, despite his face being the picture of approval.

He moved his hand once more and then he was unzipping his jeans and reaching into his pants, letting his cock spring free. He let out a shuddering sigh at the sensation; you were sure there was a thick feeling of relief that washed over him at the removal of any tight restriction on his erection. “C’mon, baby,” he cooed, and your eyes widened as he licked a wide stripe on his palm, returning his hand to his cock to give it a languid stroke. “I know you can do it.”

You gingerly dropped a hand to your waist, fiddling with the worn out elastic band of your panties. In front of you Joel let out a soft sigh, his eyebrows furrowing and his dark eyes growing even darker at the sight of your hand getting closer to your mound, where there was certainly a puddle growing.

“Lemme feel it, baby,” he said gruffly, beckoning for you to step closer. “I know I said I wouldn’t touch, but holy fuck, dollface…I’ve never needed to feel something so bad in my life.”

You practically fell over your own two feet as you obeyed his request, stepping into the space between his legs. His cock was right there, and you wanted to put your tongue on the tip, to feel that bead of leaking seed that was sliding down the angry red head of his cock. “Joel—”

His only answer was with his two fingers pressing a featherlight touch to your bud, drawing a quick moan from your lips, your eyes closing and your hips rolling into the feeling.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby, I knew it,” Joel murmured, sitting forward and pressing a kiss to your stomach. “You’re always so wet for me, huh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course you were; he knew this well enough now. But something about the fact that he kept asking…it only made you want him more.

“Joel, please,” you begged, rolling your hips into his hand again and moaning desperately at the press of his hand against your bud. “I need you to—”

He pulled his hand away and sat back again. “Not yet, dollface,” he reminded you, returning his hand to his cock. “You haven’t even touched yourself, darlin’,” he teased, his tone a mocking coo.

You let out another strangled whine, but shoved your hand into the waistband of your panties. “Fine,” you sighed, “but it won’t work.” As much as you wanted to come, you were reminded all too well of the last time he asked you to do this. You couldn’t obey his request, and he’d had to make you come all the same. So why would he make you go through the motions again?

Your finger caught on your clit and you inhaled sharply, eyes closing at the addictive sensation. You let your other hand slide up to your chest, instinctively massaging your own breast in the same way that Joel did—at least, as close of a replication as you could make.

“That’s it, sweet thing,” he said in that southern drawl that had you perpetually weak in the knees. “Lookin’ so good like that, sweetheart, good girl,” he drew out the last two syllables, his teeth audibly gritting as he stroked his cock faster.

You wanted to continue, wanted to hold onto the feeling of making him proud, but you didn’t know what to do. “Joel,” you begged, “I…” you trailed off.

Both of his hands came to your waist and you opened your eyes at one squeeze of your hips. “C’mere,” he groaned. “Just sit next to me, doll.” He helped you sit next to him, your head resting on the arm of the couch. Your knees came up to your chest, and he looped his thumbs into your panties, ridding you of them in a quick movement.

Your head was spinning with the hopes that he might give in, that he might not make this foolish game go on for much longer. It had only been a minute or two, but you never wanted to make yourself come if Joel was always going to be so willing. “Joel—”

“Spread those pretty legs for me, baby,” he whispered, his big hands on your knees. When you couldn’t move your legs on your own, he gently nudged them apart, his eyes darting down to your dripping mound. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hand hovering over your folds, “even more appetising than I remember.”

The implication made your head reel. Surely he wouldn’t…

But your thoughts were interrupted when he sat back at the other end of the couch, his cock sitting at the ready as he dragged his hand over it again. “I’m good at waiting, though,” he murmured to himself. “C’mon, princess,” he sighed, “just like we practiced. Hand on that pretty pussy, baby.”

The whine that left your throat was downright pornographic as you obeyed, the sound of his instructions shooting bullets of pleasure down your spine and straight to that sensitive bud at the crevice of your thighs.

Just like we practiced, he’d said. You had no desire to disappoint him; you wanted to prove to him that you could do this, you wanted to see that look of flushed pride on his face when he came again. When you’d make yourself come.

Your fingers slipped around your dripping cunt, still clumsy and untrained despite knowing just how Joel would make you come undone with his touch. You tried your best to replicate it, gliding your fingers in tight circles around your bud, or drawing long stripes in between your folds, but it just made you more frustrated. “Joel,” you whined again, “please.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning. “You’re doing it, baby. Look at you, rubbin’ that pretty clit for all it’s worth.” His words were bruisingly confident, but his tone was shaky and the only evidence that he was dangerously close to coming before you.

“Joel, I—” you circled your clit once more— “I need you to—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, and you felt him shift closer to you—just a centimeter.

You pulled your own hand away from your clit, despite your body begging for more, and you looked for a moment at the shine on your fingers. “Joel,” you repeated, “I…I want you to tell me what to do.”

He was silent for a moment. Then, “That so?” His movements had stopped.

You nodded, and couldn’t help the desperation in your voice. “Yes.” Somehow your legs dropped open even wider, exposing yourself to him further. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gave yourself entirely to him. “I’ll do it.”

Joel had turned his chest to face you, and he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, ya know?” he said, and you thought it was a minor jab at your eagerness until he dropped his hand back to his lap and you saw that blissed-out smile that you were learning to ache for. “‘Course I’ll tell you what to do. If that’s what you want,” he answered, and you almost came at the sound of his voice.

He shifted so his body was facing you; the sight of him with his shirt buttoned, his pants still on, but the zipper undone and his cock bobbing heavily as he moved…it was enough to have you rolling your eyes back. Joel Miller was sensational. The essence of sin and seduction, and you only wanted more.

“Lift this leg for me, baby,” he murmured as he lowered his chest to the couch. You let him move your ankle to rest on his shoulder, then the other ankle to match. “That’s it,” he cooed, “you’re such a quick learner, babydoll.”

You blushed at the nickname, and when he sank to his elbows with his eyes on your pussy, your eyes widened. ��Joel—”

You’d heard of this type of pleasure, but you’d never thought it was something men actually did. When he looked up at you with that hungry look in his eye, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like one might do before eating an especially good meal, you realized another thing.

You’d never thought this could be something that men actually enjoyed.

“You want instruction, babygirl?” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh and chuckling when you shivered. “I’ll give you instruction. Lay back and let me take care of you. You’re always so good at that, yeah?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer before he was dipping his head down to your most sacred spot, where you needed him most. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them against his ears as if they were keeping him warm in the cold temperatures outside. With one stripe from your weeping entrance to your quivering bud, Joel nearly made you come on the spot.

“Joel, I’m gonna—”

He pulled back and smiled wickedly. “Already, baby? We’ve only just started,” he drawled, turning his head to kiss the inside of your other thigh. “Hold on to it for me, yeah? Gotta practice holding it for me, okay?”

You were too far gone to even grace his question with a response. All you could manage was a stuttering moan as you threw your head back and bucked your hips into his face, chasing your release.

Joel held your hips down with a light chuckle. “Wait, princess,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your clit before continuing, “you don’t wanna fail your lesson, do ya?”

The implication that something might happen—or decidedly not happen—if you were to come before he let you only spurred you on. “Joel, please—”

“Just a little longer, please, baby,” he said, his voice a gentle moan. His tongue grazed your clit once more and he closed his lips over your bud, suckling just lightly enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

It was then that you opened your eyes and looked at him; you wanted to see what he looked like with his mouth on your most sensitive spot if you were going to come. Your eyes caught on his hips, laid out on the couch further away from you. You blinked.

Joel was rutting into the couch. His hips were seemingly moving of their own accord, a smooth movement that was covered in sin and desperation. You thought about the fact that the curve of his hips would probably look like that if he were pressing his cock into you, and that was it.

Your voice broke over the sound of your whines, and paired with his fingers coming up to press into your entrance, you were done for. You came hard over his fingers, your moans so loud that you thought someone would hear you all the way back in Jackson. “JoelJoelJoelJoel,” you cried, feeling the familiar rise of emotions in your throat.

Joel pulled his head from your pussy and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” he smirked.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, although you weren’t sure you had the capacity to even be sorry just now; the sight of him getting off at the taste of you was enough to keep your mind busy for the next week. “I didn’t mean to—”

“S’okay, dollface,” he chuckled, “I forgive you. That pussy tastes too sweet to be mad about you comin’ all over my damn face.”

Your thighs lay open for another moment, and Joel absentmindedly put his hand over your clit to rub another gentle circle to your sensitive bud. He hummed when your hips bucked at the overstimulation before pulling his hand away.

Your eyes dropped to his cock, sitting rock hard and definitely not spent. You reached out with your hand again, sitting up. The effects of your orgasm were still heavy on your mind, but in a wordless movement you sank to your knees before him. “You didn’t come,” you said, more of a question than a statement.

He shook his head. “Don’t matter,” he said, patting a hand on your head. “That was just for you, doll.”

You frowned. “But—” you dipped your head down, aiming your mouth at his tip despite not knowing what to do beyond that. All you knew was that this was something he needed. The tip of his cock was leaking profusely now, and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel as good as he’d made you feel.

“We haven’t practiced that one yet, pretty girl,” he said softly, and lifted your head from where it was aiming. “Trust me, doll, I want it just as bad as you want to give it to me.” He traced his thumb along the line of your nose, a habit that he’d been starting to pick up. “But we’ll do it when you’re ready.”

“Then I wanna practice,” you insisted, your knees digging into the cold wooden floor. You didn’t want to think about how you looked, your face showing the remnants of your orgasm and your entrance starting to drip once more at the thought of pleasing him. “Let me practice,” you repeated.

He smiled ruefully. “Got nothin’ to practice on, sweet thing,” he said softly. “We’ll practice another day.”

You took his hand wordlessly, not sure where this bout of confidence was coming from. It was like you were drunk on the thought of making him come. He let you hold his hand in yours, and with one look up at him, holding his eyes in your gaze, you opened your mouth to slide three of his fingers onto your tongue. He tasted like salt and the sweet release of your own body.

Joel jerked in your grip, his cock bobbing toward you and his hand nearly shoving itself all the way down your throat. “Holy fuck, doll,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. “S’enough to make a man leave his wife.”

You chuckled, knowing he was spewing nonsense from his lips now, but you pressed his fingers further down your throat, only stopping when they brushed the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

“That’s okay, babygirl,” he said with another affectionate pat on your head. “You’re doin’ so good. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Thought I was doing well,” you said sheepishly when he pulled his fingers from your mouth. A string of spit connected his fingers to your lips.

He nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You are, dollface,” he said. “You are. Maybe it’s me who needs a second to regroup.”

You knew it wasn’t true; his angry red tip was more than enough of a conflicting response to his words. But you let him pick you up from the floor and cradle you in his arms over his lap, rubbing his hands in circles over your body. “You’ll let me make you feel good, though?” you asked softly.

Joel smiled. “‘Course,” he reassured you with a kiss on the cheek. “Next time,” he promised.

It was enough. You nodded and rested your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the gentle curtain of sleep cover you. “M’tired,” you whispered, every inhibition gone. This man had seen and touched every part of you; there was no point in being shy.

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, and when his face wasn’t in between your legs, it was an awfully domestic phrase. “Just lemme hold your for a second. Then we’ll go back home.”

—

You didn’t know how you’d managed to get back on the horse, your clit sensitive and your whines hoarse with the constant friction as you rode back to Jackson. Your head had leaned back against Joel’s chest and he rested his chin against the top of your head, a constant warm presence as you rose from your post-orgasm haze.

A happy accident, a faraway voice mused in your head. One horse with Joel on patrol? A dream.

That is, until Tommy came out of the stables as you two approached.

“Why’d you leave her horse here?” he called out, and you felt Joel tense behind you. “You forget how to ride a damn horse, darlin’?” Tommy said to you with that same southern drawl that his older brother shared in his voice.

You blushed as Joel helped you down from his mount, and you hid your uncontrollable laughter behind your hand when he shared some tense words with his brother.

“Fuck off,” Joel finished, but by the look of his wide eyes and red cheeks, you knew it held no malice. He was embarrassed. He’d faked your horse’s injury so he could hold you close. The realization made your head whirl.

You walked off from the stables when the horse was returned to his stall, and you giggled when you heard Joel hurry to catch up with you.

He looked around for a moment, as if checking to see if anyone was nearby, and then he delivered a quick swat to your ass, making you nearly trip in the snow. “S’not nice to laugh at an old man,” he said with a straight face, all business. But you could see the uncharacteristic rosiness in his cheeks, betraying his continued humiliation.

You weren’t sure where the confidence in your voice came from, but you sighed with a, “Yeah,” before nudging him with your elbow. “Can’t help it when it’s your own brother, Joel.”

He shook his head and your arm tingled when he reached out with his gloved hand to clasp onto yours. “What am I gonna do with you, dollface, huh?” he mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if you were meant to hear it until he looked down at you with a gentle smirk and a raised brow.

You shrugged, your own cheeks heating up at the implications of what you were about to say. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Make another lesson out of it, I suppose.”

Joel just stared at you, a smug expression on his face. He tore his eyes from yours and played the part of nonchalance when he responded smoothly, mirth twinkling in those brown eyes you’d grown so attached to. “Maybe I will.”

this is so sinful i'm so tipsy rn i hope you liked it!!!! tysm for reading i love u all <3

tags (i'm so sorry it wouldn't let me tag everyone!!! i'll do the rest of my tags in the morning!!!): @morning-star-joy @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @dinsdjrn @mingiast @darkroastjoel @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @buckbarnesdollsposts @kamcrazy123 @djarins-wife @lovelyladiess @impossiblebluebirdchaos @salsdemise @daddy-din @chaotic-mystery @laughcryreadsmutrepeat @prose-before-hoes-blog @morgaussy @thepriceofdevotion @chateausophie @livyjh @kittenlittle24 @ever-siince-new-york @julietamidala @3xclusive-y0ni @paanchusblog @okdeedee @scarletsloveletter @paleidiot @cleopatra99 @samuncenxsored @yourfavoriteredheadbitch-blog @brie-annwyl @spxctorsslxt @pattwtf @meijasworldasf @easaud @yuk-for-president @withrice-ontoast @ssssc0m @nini123 @bookishofalder @projectionistwrites @leeeesahhh

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ratcash-wasgud · 3 months

Note

Beach episode with loser!Mizu,,,, she's lurking under the shade while everyone else is out in the water having fun like the- well loser she is

i love beach episodes!!! wahhh!!!! (i know basically nothing about beach culture btw)

i think this will be the last loser!mizu for a while guys (a couple days, until i realize i can't write anythinng else, and crawl back to my pookie). I have so many unfinished drafts ugghh.

mdni :p

+audios !! okay enjoy.

You and Mizu have gone to a couple of "dates", which all were just hanging out at or around the aquarium. Oh, and you once came to watch one of her games, but that's it. It's a very confusing relationship in Mizu's eyes.

For a while she already thought you two were dating, but Akemi quickly educated her on the wonderful world of talking stages. That day, Mizu decided that talking stages were her worst enemies. How are you not her girlfriend yet? It's not fair.

Akemi and Taigen only seen you once, and they were both intoxicated, and Ringo hasn't even met you, only in passing, so it's obvious they'd want to meet the person their grumpy friend is spending most of her time with. So Akemi arranges a beach hangout, and starts bugging Mizu about bringing you along, with "Come onnn, don't you wanna see her in a bikini?" typa comments.

Mizu, even though the last time you hung out with Akemi and Taigen it turned out very much embarassing to her, gives in after a while.

After a brief text exchange which Mizu floods with horrible memes, just to ease her own anxiety, you say yes, and now here we are.

Mizu is setting up her little fortress of peace in the sand, which is a big, soft blanket with a parasol guarding her from the sun. Her usual shades sit on her nosebridge. Her choice of swimwear is made of a pair of dark blue swimming trunks with rubber ducks all over it, and a bikini top that looked eerily like her usual sports bra. You on the other hand were...running late.

Ringo sat down next to her and offered her a muffin from the big bag he packed full of food, while Akemi and Taigen started to splash eachother in the water.

"You're more quiet than usual." Ringo comments with a slight smile, munching on a muffin himself. Mizu sighs and takes a bite of hers.

"It's stressful." She says with a shrug. "We're close, very close...but somehow not close enough. Like...how do you ask someone to be your girlfriend?" Mizu says to her bestfriend, looking up at the big guy from under her shades.

Ringo purses his lips as she stares ahead, thinking about it. "Say..."Will you be my girlfriend?" I think that would work." Mizu facepalms.

"Well, yeah, obviously, dumbass." She says, throwing her head back with a groan. "But the other stuff. Like...atmospehere, timing, mood...and how do I know she likes me enough to make that step?" She rambles. "It's obvious I like her, I told her I loved her once! What if she thinks I'm desperate? I mean, yeah I am...but I don't want her to know."

Ringo looks back at her, like she just confused his little brain even more, which she did. "Then wait for her to ask?" He suggest, and before Mizu could answer and tell him that it would be a terrible idea, because what if you never ask, you arrive, almost on cue.

You are...indeed wearing a bikini. And Jesus Christ, Mizu's breathing almost stops alltogether. Yeah, she slept with you once, and saw more intimate parts of your body than your belly button and cleavage, but this is different. You have your heart shaped sunglasses covering your eyes. She remembers those glasses, and she can feel her stomach twist in a not-so-bad way. She gives you sublte little wave as you approach, but before you could get to her, Ringo raids you.

"Woah, hey! I'm Ringo! You must've heard a lot about me from Mizu, since I'm her number one friend! I'm sure we'll get along great!" He chirps excitedly. Mizu needs to hold back the urge to burry herself in the sand and never come out. But to her surprise, you just laugh.

"How charming! Hey to you too, Ringo." You shake his nub. Mizu noticed that you find a lot of things cute and charming that Mizu would find cringe or lame. Maybe because you're more easy going. You walked to Mizu's little fortress, and offered her a smile. "And hey to you, hermit." You chuckled, kneeling on her blanket. Miz could feel her heartbeat fasten, having you so close. She should've gotten used to it by now, but she was convinced she never will.

"Hey." She said with a small, almost unnoticalbe smile. "You look...good." She complimented you, her gaze falling to your breasts for half a second, but her shades were keeping her safe.

"Thanks. Got this one just a week ago." You say, slightly pulling at you bikini top's strap. "You don't look halfbad yourself." You say playfully, then grab a beachball from the mountain of bags placed next to the blanket. "You know how to play?" You look at Ringo, then back at her. Ringo nods enthuistacally, and Mizu shrugs. Of course she knows how to play. She is in the school's basketball team, she is very good at ball games, but she needs to stay humble. That's hot, right?

"We need one more player though to make it even." You say, and just like that, as if smelling a challenge, Taigen appears.

"Well, lucky for you," He starts, putting his fist on his chest. "The champion has arrived." Mizu rolls her eyes, and you just gasp dramatically. Akemi sits down on the blanket. "You go ahead, I'll be the judge I guess."

And with that, the match if the decade started. You were on a team with Taigen, and Mizu teamed up with Ringo. She wanted to be on the same team as you, but Taigen snatched you up first. That bastard.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're pretty." Mizu says, warming up her shoulders on the other side of the web.

"Complimenting me won't save your ass." You tease back with a wink.

"Wait, no, that's not what-" Mizu suddenly realized the meaning of her words, but before she could try and ramble herself out of it, the game started with Taigen serving. It went all well, since Mizu could block all of Taigen's hits, but when you were the one sending the ball her way? The woman froze.

Everyime you jumped up to hit the ball, your whole body bounced, especially that part that she couldn't take her eyes off of. The little victory punch you gave to the air after you scored, the way your hair stuck to your forehead because you started sweating, and the way you threw yourself at the ground to catch the ball last minute, making your soft body squish against the sand...it mesmerized Mizu.

It was obvious you took the game seriously, but sadly not as seriously as Taigen, who basically started beating his chest like a gorilla when he scored. The strategy was simple: Ringo would take your hits, and Mizu would block and eliminate Taigen's. It all went jolly for a good while of the game, until your bikini top slipped, revealing your underboob. You though nobody noticed, so you quickly pulled it back into place, But someone did notice. And that someone couldn't focus on anything else during the rest of the game.

The results came out with you and Taigen on top, but only by two points. It was infuriating as hell to watch Taigen give you a double high five, but you looked happy, and that made Mizu content. She was watching the scene, until Ringo nudged her.

"Now. Mood, and uh...vibe! All good. Do it now." He tried to whisper, but he was really excited. It took Mizu a moment to realize what he was talking about, and when she did, she gave him a determined nod. She marched to you, her cheeks burning, and a frown on her face that could be described as angry, but it was just a sign of her taking this seriously.

"You did good." She says, lifting her shades off her face, putting them up into her hair.

"Thanks. You two weren't bad either. You just decided to play against champions." You shrug playfully.

"So uh...I saw an ice cream booth over there. I could buy you one as a winning prize, or something." She offers, shoving one of her hands into the pocket of her swimming trunks. Her voice came out breathy, on one part from just finishing the game, and on the other...well...

"Free ice cream? Hell yeah!" You say enthusiastically, and get going. Mizu just follows you. Taigen stays there, looking confused for a second.

You stand there, staring at the different flavours of ice cream. "Mmm...I think I'll go with mint chocolate chip." You say, tilting your head, still considering it. "Or bubblegum!"

"You could get both." Mizu shrugs. You're very particular about your icecream, it seems. It's good to know. If she manages to score another date with you, she'll bring you to a pastry shop instead of an aquarium.

"Really? Awsome!" You celebrate to yourself. "What are you getting?" You ask, leaning closer to her. Mizu gulps.

"I'll just...have vanilla." She says, doing her damn best not to look at your lips that are so close. She whishes she could be on that level with you where casual kisses are a thing.

"Vanilla? Well that's a little...boring." You chuckle. "I think you'd like coconut." You say, pointing at the similar colored ice cream. The fact that you're comfortable enough to decide what could she like is so...so...

"Yeah, sure." Mizu shrugs again. She pays for the icecream, but doesn't start walking back to the others yet. "Here," She starts walking towards the part of the shore where big rocks could give some privacy. You follow her, kitty-licking your ice cream. That movement reminds her---fuck. Why is she acting like a hormone filled twelve year old?

As she stares at you while walking, you're staring at the water. She follows your gaze, and starts watching the water too. The waves and the foam splash against the sky, and the clouds hover above, now lightly pink and orange tinted from the sun almost setting.

Suddenly, you point at the sand: you spotted a jellyfish that got thrown out by the water. "Look!" You rush to it, and crouch down by it's side. "Do you think it's still alive. It's still wet."

"Yeah, like me when I'm near you." is what Mizu wants to say, but instead she just follows you. "I'dunno." You seem to worry about the jellyfish, which is...sweet. It's just a jellyfish to Mizu, but to you? It's already named Fred and has a twelve page backstory. Mizu, in an attemt to not let your mood get ruined, takes off her sunglasses, and places them on the jellyfish.

"Damn. I think he's still alive, he seems pretty fresh to me. Drippy, even." Mizu snorts, and you push her, making her land on her butt as you laugh with her.

"Oh my god...you're horrible." You say, your beautiful smile returning. Even if she landed on her ass, a win is a win. Mizu takes back her shades and throws the jellyfish back in the water.

Mizu then takes a deep breath. She looks at you, her blue eyes shining in the orange-ish light. She steps closer, and lightly takes your hand. She wants to make it seem like it's a casual thing, but her heart is drumming against her ribcage. She then pushes her already melting icecream close to your lips. "Wanna taste?" She ask.

You chuckle. She's adorable. You lean closer, and take a big lick off her treat. You notice that the white ice cream has already melted to her hand. You lightly take her wrist. "You're so messy." You say teasingly and start licking the ice cream off her fingers. Mizu's breath hitches as she watches your tongue work on her skin, licking her lips unconsciously.

"You're so fucking beautiful like that." She blurts out, her other hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.

You smile up at her, licking up the cone. That was the greenlight you needed. You move your head up, and push your lips against her. You taste like coconut, as she opens her lips, inviting in your tongue. Her hand lands on your hips, leading you more behind a bigger rock, away from the all the prying eyes. She lightly grips the soft tissue on your hips, her fingers cautiously wandering towards your ass as you devour her lips. She slowly pushes you against the rock. You already ate your ice cream, and her's is melted completely, it's soggy cone laying alone in the sand as her hands move up to cup your breasts.

"I wanted to do this ever since that stupid match..." She murmurs into the kiss, her finger's finding your nipples through your bikini top.

You grin against her lips, slowly exchanging positions until her back is against the rock. You run your finger's along her skin, feeling up the exposed muscles. Her abs basically guided your hand along to trace their shape, then guided your hand downwards. You undid her swimming trunks and got on your knees before her.

Mizu looks at you, almost hypnotized by how good you look on your knees. Before she could react, you pull her trunks down, and teasingly lick her folds. Mizu pushes her palm against her lips to silence the loud groan that wanted to escape her lips. You chuckled against her flesh, closing your eyes as you started to do your work. Mizu's long, slender finger's got lost in your hair, keeping your head in place as she chewed on the inside of her cheek to hold back her noise.

She mumbles you name over and over, her hips lightly bucking into your mouth. "F-Fuck...fuck, I love you..." She blurts out in a half moan, half whine. Is it the best time to say it? Not really. But is that stopping her? No. She is too filled with passion and her feelings are bubbling over the edge. "I have loved you...f-for so long...p-please..." She whines silently. "I...I-I want you t'be mine..so damn bad...oh God..."

You look up at her, her juices dripping down your chin. You then suddenly stick out your tongue, pushing it inside her walls. Mizu bites into her palm to keep quiet.

"You're so fucking cute..." You mumble into her, repeatedly pulling and pushing your tongue in and out. Your nose rubs against her clit, making it hard to keep standing.

"M'gonna cum...f-fuck, keep going..." Mizu groans, bucking her hips even more into your mouth.

You can feel her walls clench around your tongue as she reaches her climax, holding your mouth open so her juices basically slip down your throat withouth swallowing. After she comes down from her high, you pull away, wiping your lips with the back of her hand, pulling her swimming trunks back into place. You get up from your kneeling position and give her a sloppy kiss.

"D'ya mean it?" You murmur into the kiss, your arms wrapping around her neck.

Mizu's lost in the kiss. She doesn't even think about the fact that she should be freaking out right now. "Meant every fucking word...I want to be your girlfriend." She says, her hands hugging your waist.

And with that...Mizu returned home that day a taken woman. She listened to the playlists she made you (psst!), and somehow heard every song in a new light.

#loser mizu #blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu fanfic #fanfiction #bes smut #smut #bes mizu #ai audio #bes audio #blue eye samurai audio #lesbian

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Note

Could you write about a 9th member reader who is trained to do cool stunt work so on stages or for mv filming they're in what looks like a dangerous situation so skz panic not knowing that the reader is trained and perfectly safe?

daredevil

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1k

summary: the boys never expected that their shy noona could be such a daredevil

Thank you so much for this request!!! Sorry it's taken me long but I hope you enjoy it!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Stray Kids had spent all day filming the music video for Cheese, and you were wondering how the boys would react to you filming your solo parts this evening. You see, they didn't know about your other talents that laid outside of working in the music industry. As soon as you could, you had gained your license to be able to ride a motorcycle, inspired by your mum and dad who could also ride them - it was how they met.

With your normal shy and quiet personality, the boys affectionately looked after you, you could say. Even though you were the same age as Minho. This could have been what prompted and inspired the staff to get the 98 liners to film with the motorbike. Minho was up first, looking cool as usual.

"Let's go Minho hyung!" Jisung cheered from the sidelines, as you all watched him pose and mouth his lyrics in the car park like scene.

"Wahhh, hyung looks so cool," Jeongin nodded and clapped a bit, as Minho broke out into a shy smile after finishing, a real contrast.

"Wait, so noona is going up next?" Felix asked curiously.

"Yeah, they wanted me and Minho to film similar scenes," you smiled, scratching the back of you neck bashfully.

A staff member came over with a helmet for you.

"Aw noona is going to be wearing a helmet?" Changbin patted your head with the helmet now on.

"It's too big for her," Hyunjin laughed, as you cutely shook your head with the helmet bobbing around. Because of this the staff gave you the helmet you normally wear, which the boyd assumed was customised by the stylists rather than you, who had painted cute flower stickers on it.

"Why is it so cute?" Seungmin laughed, looking down at you, as you smiled shyly and headed over to the motorbike.

The staff directed you to pretend you were riding it, knowing fully well that you could. You had to let the company know that you had gotten a license. But it never really came up into conversation with the boys, and you weren't really one to talk about yourself, maybe that was another similarity you shared with Minho.

The camera followed you as you revved up the engine and started driving down the car park, the boys letting out yells and gasps of worry. You let out a cheer as you did so, which the others assumed was more of a cry for help.

"Y/Nnie noona!"

"Y/N!!"

"Someone help her stop!"

"Ah no no no!!!"

Yet you successfully stopped it and swerved with a smirk on your face as you pulled up the visor of your helmet, the staff clapping for you as you did so.

It still hadn't really sunk in to the boys that you in fact knew what you were doing. And so, they ran up to you.

"Y/Nnie, are you ok? Are you hurt?" Chan wrapped an arm around her shoulder, helping her take the helmet off and expecting to see you crying, when in fact you were laughing.

"Why are you laughing? You could have died!" Minho reprimanded, eyes glaring into your soul.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you stopped laughing and waved off their concerns.

"How? You just... you-" Jisung malfunctioned, shocked at the sight of what you just did.

"Guys, I'm fine, I have a license for this," you shrugged it off casually, not wanting all their attention on you. But they wouldn't let you off so easily.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hyunjin said with wide eyes, hand over his heart.

"Didn't really think there was a time to say it..." you trailed off sheepishly.

"How about when you got your license? Or when Minho was filming?" Seungmin pointed out.

"Oh yeah..." you blushed, habitually scratching the back of your neck.

"How can you act so shy after being so cool?" Felix giggled, looking at your slightly hunched figure sat on the motorbike.

"Super shu, super shy!" Changbin burst out into dong, making everyone else laugh at him, Jisung whacking his shoulder.

"Noona you have to teach me!" Jeongin joyfully said, everyone immediately going 'no!'.

"Well I could-" you began to say.

"No! Don't corrupt our maknae!" Jisung playfully restrained Jeongin, dragging him slightly away from you.

"Hey, I'd be a good teacher!" you pout, folding your arms as you took off your helmet.

"I don't doubt that, Y/Nnie," Chan affectionately patted your head, smoothing out your hair that had become ruffled.

"I can't believe our noona can ride a motorbike!" Hyunjin shook his head, still not believing it.

"Nobody would believe it if we told them!" Seungmin agreed.

"I can't believe you showed me up like that. I just sat on the motorbike and you rode it!" Minho facepalmed, feeling shy.

"You looked pretty whilst doing it though," you quietly complimented him.

"Aw our noona is so sweet," Felix teased, smiling at you.

"Is Y/Nnie flirting with me?" Minho smirked.

"No no no," you waved them off shoving the helmet back on your head and hiding your face, folding your arms.

"Oh no! She's disappeared!" Changbin shouted, nearly making you fall off of the bike from the shock of him suddenly yelling.

"Hahaha, Binnie you nearly knocked out Y/Nnie noona!" Chan laughed as he caught you.

"Ok I'm taking my helmet off again," you signed, taking it off and holding a hand over your heart, much like Hyunjin was earlier.

"This really is the most unexpected thing, I still can't comprehend it," Jeongin shook his head.

"Stays are gonna be shocked too, aren't they?" you wonder.

"They won't be expecting it all, I mean we all didn't..." Jisung nodded.

After that day if filming the boys became suspicious of you, jokingly of course, asking you questions thinking you lived a secret double life, but once you explained about how your parents had licenses too, it all made sense to them, and they felt like it should have been obvious from the start, that such a shy girl was secretly a daredevil.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #skz 9th member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member

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chilschuck · 20 days

Note

So... How about Laios x a dragonkin reader? (Specifically an ice dragon, they just look so fluffy!!)

I can imagine having sections of her body covered in soft feathers! Something like Falin at the end of the manga. I also think her body runs on the colder side of things, you know? For one reason she's partially covered in feathers. So I imagine her being quite affectionate, the warmth that others radiate is just something she can't deny!

I can picture Laios basically vibrating with excitement as he asks questions about her and her body, and, can you llame him? Come on! She is half dragon! How could he pass up this opportunity!?

And before any of the party (Marcille) can stop him or say something, she accepts perhaps too calmly (I can hear the "HUH?" from Marcille rn)

Laios' enthusiasm is like that of a child at Christmas as he asks questions and lets his hands explore his feather-covered wings. He compares and looks for the less noticeable differences between her and a real dragon, measuring her saw-sharp teeth and making comments without any shame, while reader just sits, answering the questions that she can answer, looking happier than she should.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST and i hope i did it justice!!! i did some headcanons but writing a piece for this one day would be sooo fun!! i hope this is close to what you were thinking!!!!

— LAIOS x ice dragonkin!reader.

꒰ rating: ꒱ sfw fluff! gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 365

✦ i’m fighting off allergies and brainfog so i apologize if this is incoherent at all, lol. if you’d like a drabble, feel free to submit something again and i’d love to do another dragonkin!reader piece for you!! hope you enjoy! <3

✦ Laios is instantly drawn to you. This isn’t surprising considering his fascination with monsters, but it doesn’t help that you’re cute, too. Don’t even get him started on how sweet you look with all those feathers. And if you let him run his fingers through them, you’d see his face light up so brightly with delight!

✦ You aren’t naturally very warm, so you’ve found yourself sneaking into Laios’ bedroll and nuzzling into his side. Laios doesn’t mind this at all, and even encourages you to take all the warmth from him you need. (As long as you answer some of his ramblings!)

✦ Laios is extremely excited when you first meet, eyes filled with wonder and chest giddy with curiosity. Expect him to start babbling out questions and watching you closely. “Wow… Look at those feathers!” or “Is it okay if I touch your wings?” will definitely be said a bit too loudly as he’s basically vibrating on the spot. Before Marcille can reel him back in, to her bewilderment you give a sweet nod and a calming smile. (I think she just about falls over from that.)

✦ When he finally does get to feel your wings under his palms, he’s so enchanted he could implode. This was an opportunity he may never get again, so best believe he’s going to take full advantage of it!

✦ “So this is different from others I’ve seen. Interesting…” he mumbles to himself. “Can I see how sharp your teeth are?” You hum, opening your mouth to bare your fangs and he’s taking and comparing notes in that head of his.

✦ You’re probably a bit too happy to be dealing with something like this. The others wonder if and when your patience for his questions will run out, but they watch as you beam right back at him. (And there he goes, enamored by your fangs again.)

✦ Laios is very determined to make sure your needs are met. Is what you’re eating fitting to your natural diet? Are your wings in need of stretching? Are you able to get enough warmth? It honestly makes you giggle a bit. You’ve never had someone so interested in your wellbeing. It feels nice.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#hoping this turned out okay…. hhhh #꒰ laios touden. ꒱#laios touden x reader #laios x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #divider by cafekitsune

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theragethatisdesire · 8 months

Text

much ado about nothing chapter 7 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

okay so i guess the responses i got on my "i have writer's block wahhh" post worked because GUESS WHAT I FINISHED THIS MORNING. this chapter!!! i have been aching to share this (even when it was half-done), i literally cannot wait any longer. this is an eren pov chapter so you guys already know it's going to be fun. lots going on, and please don't hate me for the end, i promise there's a master plan in place!!! i hope you guys enjoy :-)

specific cws: smut, rough sex, use of names (both endearing and derogatory so take that as you will), drinking, swearing, i want to give eren a giant hug

“Love sought is good; but given unsought, is better.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 1)

Eren has no excuse for any of it. No excuse for stepping in, for throwing Floch against the bar. He knows you, knows you have enough experience with awful men to know how to handle yourself. He just couldn’t help himself.

And now he’s gone and acted out again without thinking. The cold winter air sobers him up, brings Eren back to himself, and when he looks down at you, all cute and furious with him, the heat in Eren’s veins dies. A pregnant pause stretches between you both, you with your arms crossed and glaring up at him, and Eren, surely with hearts in his eyes, looking down at you, something apologetic beginning to write its way into his features.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Well, so much for that. The venom in your voice reignites Eren’s temper, fans the flames back into a full-blown inferno.

“My problem?” Eren growls, stepping closer to you. “What the fuck is your problem? I was just getting that prick out of your face. I’d think I deserve a thank you more than anything.”

“It wasn’t your place,” you huff.

“My place?” Eren nearly shouts, exasperated. “You’re the one who wanted to be friends so badly, was I supposed to just sit back and watch while he drooled all over you? Give me a fucking break.”

“That’s not– ugh, you’re really fucking frustrating, you know that Eren?”

It’s like watching all the ghosts of his past jump out at him through your teeth; Eren flinches, feels his fury rushing in his ears like a tidal wave.

“I’m–? Fine, fine, yeah, I’m the frustrating one. Definitely not you, throwing a goddamn temper tantrum over the stupidest shit imaginable, makes perfect sense. Really putting that smart little head to use, aren’t you?”

“Oh? ‘My girl’?” As soon as the words hit him, plunging through his chest like daggers, Eren’s blood runs cold. So you had caught his little slip-up. “What the fuck was that, then?”

Eren stutters, words caught in his throat at the worst possible moment. “Y-you know, like my girl, like you’re my friend or whatever.”

“Uh-huh,” you eye him disbelievingly, “you may as well have hiked your leg up and pissed on me in front of him. Am I supposed to be your fucking property or something because we had sex? Is that it?”

“What? No, I–” you’re faster than him, cutting him off.

“Don’t you already have your hands full with your ex?”

That crosses a line, pushes your fight into an entirely new territory. Eren’s eyes narrow. “Are you really bringing up Breeze right now? Like she…Jesus, like she even fucking matters?”

He watches the way you flinch when he says her name, the way your eyes widen, something he hadn’t expected out of you after with your little snide comments today. Interesting.

“She doesn’t matter to me, but I know she matters to you. As your friend, I’m just letting you know it sounds like a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea?”

“Getting back together with her,” you say, like it should be obvious.

It hits Eren like a truck; so that’s what’s gotten into you? You think he’s getting back together with Breeze, as if you didn’t text your ex that you were “totally in love with” on that godforsaken night at Paradise? Eren can still hear the slur of your words in that maddeningly confusing voicemail.

“Even if I was getting back with Breeze,” Eren snorts at the very idea, “which I’m not–”

“Oh yeah?” you counter, stepping forward to nearly touch your chin to his chest with how severely your head’s tilted up at him, “never took you for a liar, Eren.”

“A liar? When did I fucking–”

“Sasha saw you two at 104 the other day. You’re not fucking slick, you know.” Eren hates that tone in your voice, smug and wounded all at once. He wants to tear his own hair out.

“Oh, so you just know everything, don’t you?” Eren’s voice is shaking under his efforts to keep it at a low volume, keep you with him outside of your little bar and just make you listen to him. He watches your posture change ever so slightly, a shoulder turning towards him. “I was telling her to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Over coffee?” Your voice is still clipped, snarky. “Sure, Eren.”

Eren tries to keep himself in line, but his temper gets the better of him yet again, shooting out sharp and lethal. “Isn’t it a little hypocritical of you to avoid me over that, when it’s really you that’s getting back with your ex?”

Your eyes shoot open, and you spin on your heel to fully face him. “What?”

“You think I didn’t listen to your little voicemail?” Eren seethes, the full-bodied ugliness of his anger warping his face into a scowl. You don’t deserve the brunt of his temper, he knows you don’t, but he’s failing at every turn to reign himself in.

“You can’t throw that in my fucking face, I don’t even remember it,” you cut him off, eyes narrowed into little slits.

Eren freezes in place. The world around him seems to slow; the only thing tethering him to this plane is the way you’re looking up at him, furious and beautiful in the buzzing neons of Scout’s. He knew you’d been drunk, but not that drunk.

Hey, Eren– fuck, Stor, leave me alone! I’m just gonna talk to him really fast! Sorry, Historia’s all over me because I did something bad. I– I texted my ex, Luke. I never told you about him because he’s like, the worst, you’d hate him. But the funny thing is, I don’t even think I care? Maybe I do because I really was like, totally in love with him. Maybe he’ll text me back and we’ll fall in love again. But…I don’t know, Eren. I think about you all the time. I think I…I think I like you. Not like a friend, more than that. Wait, fuck, can I delete this? Just…I don’t know. Call me tomorrow or something. I want to talk about it before I can go down the black hole of Luke all over again. I know it’s not what you expected, and maybe you don’t feel the same, but…maybe we can just– shit, Historia, don’t hang up the–!

“Whatever I said was bullshit, I didn’t mean a word of it. I’m not getting back with my ex, or whatever else I came up with while I was blacked out.”

Your present-tense voice, affirmative and clear, snaps him out of his daze. I didn’t mean it. Every word of that voicemail that Eren knows so well, has basically memorized after listening to it day in and day out, trying to analyze every little drunken intonation of your voice– it was bullshit. Eren steels his jaw, musters up all the willpower he can dredge up in his body.

“You didn’t mean it,” his voice sounds alien as it leaves his mouth, distant.

“Yeah, exactly,” you’re mean, you’re so mean, not even stopping to acknowledge the sinkhole ripping open in Eren’s chest, “so before you rip me a new one, make sure that you’re not thinking about where you’d rather be right now.”

So you’re not just mean, you’re oblivious, it seems. For some reason, even through the shattering, crushing feeling erupting beneath Eren’s hoodie, it infuriates him. You just don’t see it, don’t see him. You didn’t mean a word you’d said to him in that damned voicemail, so he can’t tell you necessarily. It crosses his mind that maybe he can show you; the last dying ember of Eren’s rational line of thought sparks and spits at the idea in protest, but eventually chokes out, slowly dying in the tidal wave of emotion that takes him over.

“Oh, I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be,” Eren's voice starts low and venomous, but it escalates with each passing word, “trust me, I showed up just aching to get into it with you. Just dying to have you rip me apart for something that I didn’t even fucking do!”

Not even a lie, honestly.

“You’re such an– ugh!” You shriek, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“A what? Say it.”

“An asshole!”

“Is that what I am?” Eren’s backing you up against the bricks, making good use of his height to tower over you. Some sick part of him relishes in the way that, while your eyes remain blazing furiously enough to send a weaker man to his knees, your height difference forces you to cower under him. “An asshole?”

“Yeah,” you counter, glaring up at him defiantly, “you’re a fucking asshole, Eren.”

His proximity to you is making him dizzy and a little unhinged, and through the drinks and his anger and the mere inches between your heaving chests, Eren feels his blood start to run hot in an entirely different way. The leash he holds on his own temper, his own throat-closing desire, is dragging along the floor as he backs you fully against the wall, and Eren’s too wound up to bring himself to care.

“That’s not what you were calling me when I had my head between your legs, now is it?”

That shakes you, makes your jaw drop a little. Eren’s vaguely aware of your fingers twitching and clenching at your side, inwardly braces himself for a slap to the face. “Well, you weren’t acting like an asshole then.”

Eren smirks, leans into his own cruelty. “What, you jealous that you haven’t been getting all of my attention? Is that what’s got you acting all mean?”

“Cut it out, Eren.” Your eyes are telling him you’re still mad at him, furious even, but Eren doesn’t miss the way the rise and fall of your chest grows ever so slightly more frantic, the way your tongue darts out anxiously to wet your lips.

“Or what?” Eren leans down, boxing you in with one arm on either side of your head.

“I– we’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He widens his eyes innocently. “What am I doing?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hiss, but if you ask Eren, it sounds an awful lot like a moan is lodged in your throat, like your words are lacking the conviction that you’re trying to muster. He pushes himself in closer to you, noses mere inches apart, a wicked grin splitting his face.

“Is it working?”

Eren’s lips meet yours at the same moment that his hand whips out to catch your arm where you’re swinging it up to slap him. A broken little whimper leaves your mouth, spills into his, as your arm slackens in his grip. Eren feels your free hand fist into the hair at the nape of his neck, lets a groan fly out into nonexistent space between your lips. He’s been driving himself crazy thinking about this moment, the next time he’d get to feel your mouth on his again if it ever even happened, what you taste like, the little noises you make. The moment that’s been keeping him up at night is finally here, inflating his wounded ego like a balloon, and it feels fucking good.

You bite a little too hard into his bottom lip, the tangy, copper taste of Eren’s blood leaking into the kiss, making it clear that this doesn’t mean everything has settled between you both, but for the time being, Eren doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way your plush thighs feel wrapped around his waist, how easily he can scoop you up and pin you against the wall, the little moan that slips from your lips when he presses the length of his body entirely into you.

He doesn’t take his time, doesn’t savor the moment like he’ll surely wish he did tomorrow; Eren devours you, running a hand up your bare leg and under the hem of your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing at your hips.

“Bet you’re wet under this short little skirt, aren’t you?” Eren huffs into your mouth, sucking on your tongue.

“Fuck you,” you spit, squeezing your thighs tighter around his hips.

“Is that what you want?” Eren whispers, dizzy and drunker on you than the three Jameson shots he’d knocked back at the bar.

“I–”

“Been thinking about it?” Eren can’t stop himself, trying desperately to keep his lips on yours through the spill of words from his mouth. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been so mean to me, grinding all up on me in that club, teasing me, then running off. Just wanted a little love, didn’t you?”

“That depends,” you pant, moving your face to kiss up his neck, leave little nips in your wake. Eren groans deep in his chest, pushing against you even more insistently.

“On?”

“How bad you really want it,” you bite into his earlobe, steal another shaky groan from him.

Eren’s not a submissive guy, not by any means, but the thrill your words send running through his veins just about makes him drop you.

“Want me to beg?” Eren growls, shoving into you and biting deep at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I’d only ever beg for you, baby.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Beg for me when you’ve got another girl waiting for you?” Your anger has fizzled into a bitter sarcasm that goes straight between Eren’s legs and knocks him right in the ego all at once, tongue tracing the shell of his ear.

“Fuck– you’re my girl, my favorite girl, did you forget?” Eren grabs your face, forces your head back against the brick so you can look at him, eyes blown wide with lust and glossed over, mouth open in a desperate pant. “Told you the first time, you’re the best I’ve ever had. Didn’t think I was just fucking around, did you? It’s just you, only you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you dig your teeth into the thumb Eren’s worked between your lips, making him suck in a sharp ouch between his lips, “sure don’t feel like your favorite girl.”

“Sounds like I need to fix that, then,” Eren lets a hand trail down between the little space he’s leaned back to create between your bodies, finds his way to the damp fabric of your panties, “oh, who’s the liar now?”

“Don’t– fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head when he starts pressing into where he knows your clit is, rubbing insistent circles over the cloth just to elicit that reaction from you, rip the control right out of your pretty little hands. Eren chuckles down at you, dark and dangerous, amused at how quickly you melt for him.

“Thought we weren’t doing this?” He parrots your words from earlier, nosing at your neck. “Thought I was an asshole?”

“You are,” you grit out through a clenched jaw, but Eren notices the little forward push of your hips, notices that you’re trying to hold yourself back from rubbing yourself into his palm.

“And that gets you wet,” Eren counters, grinding the heel of his palm up into your clit and wrenching a little gasp from you, “bet you liked watching me in there, bet you would have loved watching me kick his ass for you.”

Eren pauses, waits to hear if you’ve got anything to say for yourself, but you’re already half-gone, rolling your hips against the steady rocking of his hand and whining in your throat. He smiles– god, you really are his favorite.

“Say it,” Eren growls into your skin, slipping a finger past the fabric of your panties to slide it into you, not the whole thing, but just a knuckle, just enough to make you shudder in his arms, “tell me you need me, want to hear you say what this perfect pussy’s already telling me. C’mon baby.”

Just as your mouth opens, either to answer him or snark at him, Eren can’t be sure, a cat-call from across the street snaps both of you out of your haze, your eyes flying wide. You shove at him, wriggling in his arms until Eren mercifully drops you to your feet, reaches down to right your rumpled little skirt for you. You glower up at him, look him up and down, and just when Eren’s about to bullshit some excuse to run home, fuck into his hand with your name on his lips, you surprise him.

“I mean, after all that, the least you can do is walk me home.”

The necessary steps of Eren closing your tabs, walking into the whipping winter wind, walking through the streets silently with Eren side-eyeing you as you storm along, arms crossed petulantly, commence. They go by in a blur; Eren’s not even sure he should be doing this right now with the lack of blood flow to his head. You don’t make eye contact, and if Eren had any more conscious thought at the moment, he would think you’re already regretting this before it happens, but he can’t bring himself to care, not yet.

He’ll kick himself for this as soon as the sun rises, but for now? The only thing he’s worried about lies wet and pulsing for him under the hem of your skirt.

The moment you’ve gotten the door open, Eren’s got you shoved up against the wall again, letting his hands find their way under your skirt and grabbing at your ass with a quiet groan.

“Historia?” he questions, nipping at your earlobe just because he can.

“Ymir’s,” you pant, pushing him off of you and practically storming to your bedroom. It hits Eren that for all the time you’ve spent together, he’s never actually seen your bedroom. He thinks that maybe he’ll do a little investigating of his own once he’s fucked all the fight out of you.

Safely behind the door of your bedroom, Eren wastes no time in yanking his shirt over his head, reaching for yours only to find that you’ve already rid yourself of the cute little sweater he had been admiring from down the bar back at Scout’s. You’ve got a pretty lace number underneath, one that Eren almost doesn’t want to take from you, but he reaches behind you and unclips it. Eren plans on taking and taking and taking everything you’ll give him, just for tonight, because the sinking feeling in his chest is telling him to do it while he can; a girl like you never sticks around a guy like him for long, and he’s already done himself the favor of ruining most of the potential your relationship had anyway.

“Eren– oh,” the broken whimper that leaves your lips snaps him out of his thoughts, reminds him that he’s got one of your breasts in his palm and the other nipple between his teeth. Eren wraps his free hand around your back, pressing his splayed fingers between your shoulder blades to arch you closer to him until he’s so full of you he can hardly breathe.

He’s going to keep taking from you, take until he drowns in it.

“Feel good? Missed me?” Eren’s words come out a little garbled around the flesh in his mouth, but you get the message all the same, managing a sarcastic eye roll through your arousal. You decline to answer him, but Eren can read your body, so he digs his teeth in harshly to the little swell of fat on the underside of your breast, sucks a bruise in to cut that eye roll of yours right in half. Eren smirks when your eyes flutter closed, a reluctant hand coming up to thread through his hair. “Thought so.”

“Can you just–fuck–get on with it?”

“Uh-uh,” Eren straightens back to his full height, backs you onto the bed until your knees catch and you fall onto your back, glaring up at him defiantly. “Gotta get you ready for me, right? I’m sure you remember.”

He eats up the doubt that flickers across your face, the memory of the first time you’d taken him all over your expression. Eren reaches beneath your skirt, pulls your panties down your legs delicately, rubs his hands along your thigh-high stockings with an appreciative swear under his breath.

“There’s a zipper on the back,” you wiggle a bit to try and reach the fasten of your skirt, but Eren slaps a firm hand onto your hip, pins you back onto the bed.

“Think I’m letting you take this off? After you were teasing me with it all night?” Eren says, stretching his body over yours, taking full advantage of his size to cage you in.

“I wasn’t teasing,” you huff, “these are just my clothes.”

“Anything you wear is teasing,” Eren brings his fingers to your core, swipes through the wetness gathered there, “especially when you look like this.”

You open your mouth to retort, but your jaw goes slack when Eren rolls over your clit softly, rubbing little circles into it at the perfect speed, the perfect pressure. He’s not interested in teasing you too much, he wants to feel you break on him as many times as you’ll grant him the pleasure. Once your little gasps have begun to swell into quiet moans, Eren ventures down, pushes his middle finger into you, all the way to the hitch. Eren answers your widened eyes and your little gasp with a sharp hiss between his teeth, marveling at the way your walls cling to his finger, sucking him in when he slides out and back in again.

“Just like the first time,” Eren murmurs, leaning down to take your collarbone between his teeth, “are you always this tight?”

“I– I don’t– more, please.”

Eren smiles around the mouthful of your skin he has, feeling his heart swell at how cute and airy your words come out, how clear it is to him, even if it’s only for this precious moment, that you’re just as desperate for him as he is for you. He grants your wish, working a second finger in beside the first, curling them cruelly against that spot in your walls that he knows gets your heart racing.

“Eren,” you keen, arching off the bed and tossing your head to the side.

“So tight baby,” Eren says in awe, pulling his head to watch as your cunt leaves little white streaks on his fingers, “so warm, can’t fucking wait to get my cock in you.”

“P-please,” you sputter, hooded eyes sparkling at the mention of it. Eren thinks wildly that he might be falling in love with the little unshed tears that prick your eyes when you start to get close, the little broken pleas you give him.

“You gotta cum for me first.” Eren works his fingers faster, can feel the fluttering of your cunt around his fingers. He realizes how worked up he must have gotten you outside of Scout’s, how you’re so wet it’s dripping down your soft skin onto the sheets, and you haven’t even cum yet.

“I’m– I just want you to fuck me,” you say, whiny and pitiful.

“I will,” Eren coos, “missed this messy little cunt so much, I promise I’ll fuck you, just give me one first. Gotta make it fit, right?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, hips bucking up towards him. Eren watches, drinks the sight of you in: skirt pulled up around your waist, legs spread wide open for him, slick spread all over the inside of your thighs, bottom lip tucked so tightly between your teeth he worries you might draw blood. He commits the sight to memory, his pretty little student all strung out and begging for his cock, begging him to make you cum. If he remembers right, if he curls his fingers just a little more harshly–

“Eren–” your head shoots up suddenly, eyes flying wide open, fists tightening in the sheets.

“Right there?” Eren grins, sharp and half-crazed, raising his eyebrows at the reaction the new angle has brought out of you.

“Right– oh, oh my god, I–”

“Give it to me,” Eren urges, working his fingers even faster, “come on, baby, show me how much you missed me.”

With a cry, you twist and thrash under him, cumming almost violently. Eren drinks it down, leans down to press a kiss against your open mouth, pins your body to the bed so you can’t run from the vicious waves of pleasure wracking your body.

“There’s my girl,” he mutters, licking against your tongue, “such a good, good girl for me.”

When your orgasm finally starts to ebb, Eren doesn’t let up, not entirely; he keeps his fingers working in a slow drag through your walls, appreciating the way your muscles twitch and the way you feebly shove at his wrist.

“Eren…” you trail off weakly, fingers finally locking harshly around his hand and pulling him from you, “too much.”

“Thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’?” Eren snorts, finally obliging your earlier request and sliding your skirt over your legs, tracing his fingers up and down your thighs once you’re fully bare and beautiful underneath him, taking mental snapshots of every inch of smooth skin that he’s lucky enough to have under his touch.

“I do,” you say, eyeing him with a glint of annoyance in your eye. It just makes Eren smile bigger; you’re so cute when you’re mad.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eren says, situating his hands under your arms and practically throwing you up against the pillows at the head of your bed. You widen your legs so he can crawl in between them, kissing his way up your torso in a self-indulgent, tender way.

“Do we, um…” you start to question him, and Eren’s close enough to your face now that he can feel your cheeks warm. He sits up a little, arches a questioning brow down at you.

“What?”

“Do we need to use a condom?”

Eren frowns, confused. “I mean, after last time, I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am,” you confirm, nodding slowly, some odd emotion flickering over your features that could be anger, could be heartbreak, “but I don’t know if, like–”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” Eren catches your meaning, feeling his heart thud heavy and loud in his chest, “not since…”

“Oh,” you exhale quietly, nodding, “okay.”

“You?”

“Uh, no,” your voice is so low Eren almost doesn’t hear you, but he watches your head slowly lull side to side in confirmation, “no one else.”

Eren can’t excuse the rush of relief that courses through him, the swell of happiness to learn that no one’s gotten to see you like this since the last time he had. It goes straight to his cock, hard and drooling between his legs. Before he can get too wrapped up in the emotional side of things, Eren leans in hard to the horrible, possessive thoughts that have constricted him, laying himself over you and taking his cock in his hand, swiping it through the mess between your legs.

“Good.” He even surprises himself with that, looking down on you with dark eyes, eyes that promise ruin.

“Please,” you give him one more breathless plea, Eren swears you know too well how to snap his composure clean in half.

He pushes himself in, choking on a moan at how tight you are, vicelike and suffocating around him. A broken groan flies from your lips, your fingers tighten their grip on his biceps until Eren’s sure you’re going to break the skin, but he’s beyond caring. His mind wipes completely blank, save for the hot, wet heat that’s enveloping him, beckoning him to snap his hips forward viciously and be done with it. With what little self-restraint he can muster up, Eren flicks his eyes up to yours.

“So…it’s so–” another whimper cuts you off, and Eren can feel your thighs twitch on either side of his hips.

“Too much?” Eren manages to reign himself in, back out another inch or so.

“No,” you wrap a leg around his waist, shove him further into you and wrench a deep, guttural groan from his chest, “feels good, keep going.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Eren breathes, trying to retain any semblance of control over this situation, give you that dominant dirty talk that he knows gets you off instead of turning into a whimpering, moaning mess at the feel of you clenching around him. He bottoms out, feeling himself fuck all the way up into your tummy, head falling down onto your shoulder.

Eren manages to keep his pace slow and gentle, rolling his hips into yours like he’s making love to you, not saying goodbye. Little satisfied sounds are slipping out of your mouth, but Eren can see a flicker of consciousness in your eyes; you’re not drooling for him, out of your mind with want, not like the first time. He frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re…I don’t know, you seem like you’re somewhere else,” Eren hates having to admit that he notices, that he even cares, and the unsteady creak of his voice reflects that, just making him hate himself even more. You don’t seem to notice his vulnerability or, if you do, you aren’t affected by it. You simply raise an eyebrow at him.

“I mean…it’s good,” you say, eyes flitting around the room, like you can’t quite admit whatever you’re going to say while looking him straight in the eyes, “but I want you to fuck me.”

“I am fucking you.” Eren’s frown deepens into a scowl of annoyance. What, is he not good enough for you now?

“Well, literally speaking yes, you are fucking me. But,” a nervous giggle slips from your teeth, riling the anger starting to bubble under his skin again, “I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you.”

“Why are we talking about this while I am literally inside of you?”

“Because I want you to fuck me,” you raise your eyebrows meaningfully, canting your hips up towards him. It clicks– as much as Eren wants to show you what he feels because he can’t tell you, fucking you like an animal, as he’s prone to do, is what you want. Eren’s been so wrapped up in trying to relish whatever time he may have left with you before you inevitably cast him off to the side again, he’s not been paying attention.

“You want me to fuck you, huh?” Eren thrusts forward a little harsher, a little more pointedly. Your eyes roll back, a slow, indulgent smile spreading across your face.

“I want you to fuck me like I know you can,” Eren feels your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his ear to your lips, “unless that last time was all luck. Surely all those rumors aren’t false, are they?”

Eren knows you’re trying to get under his skin, to bite at him through the haze of the heavy air weighing down on both of you, to rekindle that anger that you had brought out of him outside of the bar. What is he going to do with you, incorrigible little thing that you are? If Eren Jaeger was a better man, he would stop this all right now, force you both to talk through the sharp, spiky things that hang in the balance between you two.

But Eren Jaeger is not a better man, he’s only a man, broken and needy and tucked into his favorite place on earth, with the girl of his dreams below him urging him to fuck her brains out. Is he really to blame?

Eren rips himself out of your grasp, standing tall and menacing on his knees over you.

“I’ll fuck you,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and shoving your knees towards your head, “but you better be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”

“Yeah? Well– oh,” a sharp, shrill cry of your own making cuts your voice off when Eren snaps his hips forward, brutal and unforgiving into the wet heat of your cunt. He doesn’t stop there, immediately pulling out and snapping forward again, hitting somewhere deep inside of you that, based on your face, he knows no man has ever been able to reach. He smirks, all cocky and cruel, setting a harsh pace that’s got you clawing at the sheets.

“What? Is it too much?” Eren whines down at you condescendingly, eating up the way you’re already whimpering and moaning. He can see tears glistening at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.

“No, no,” your voice is broken, breathless, “it’s– fuck, it’s so good, Eren–”

“Is this what you wanted?” Eren growls down at you, locking one strong hand around your throat. “Wanted me to fuck you like the little slut you are?”

“Yes!” Your admission comes out in a choked, watery cry, the tears in your eyes finally beginning to run down your temples. Even if it wasn’t written all over your face, Eren can feel how much you like it; your pussy is fluttering, pulsing around him, begging him to keep going. He drives his hips forward like a man starved, a man whose life depends on fucking you until you can’t walk straight for a week.

“Who knew?” Eren muses to himself, wiping the tears from your face. “Who knew my pretty girl was so filthy?”

“I, I–Eren,” you moan wantonly, thighs shaking under his firm grip. Eren should hold himself back, knows that you’re going to be so sore in the morning, but a sick part of him is glad for it. Let you walk around campus with the throbbing ache of him inside of you, maybe he’ll fuck you so hard that little twinge in your belly when you sit down never goes away.

“Say it,” Eren urges, squeezing your windpipe, “tell me how much you love it, tell me how bad this pussy missed me.”

“I–” you choke out around his iron grip on your neck, “I m-missed you, I love it w-when you fuck me–”

“Fuck you like a whore?”

“Fuck me like a w-whore,” you wheeze out, face reddening with shame. Eren loves it, wants to kiss the blush off your cheeks and swallow it whole.

“That’s right, baby,” Eren releases your throat, watches the way you heave and gasp as the air flows back into your lungs, only to be punched out by the force of his thrusts, “you love my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes, I– oh my god, Eren, I–”

“What?” Eren sneers, smirking wickedly down at you, “is my smart girl already so fucked out she can’t talk?”

“No, I– I just– fuck!” You’re so loud for him, if he knew that fucking you within an inch of your life would get him this, Eren never would have bothered playing nice in the first place.

“‘ve barely even started,” Eren laughs, mean and sharp, “and you’re already fucked so dumb you can’t even think. Think you can cum for me, just like this?”

He doesn’t even have to ask; he can feel the way your cunt’s starting to tighten around him so harshly that it nearly pushes him out. He’s bullying his way back into you on every thrust, forcing you to open up for him, to take what he has to give. Inwardly, Eren hopes to god you do cum soon; he’s not going to last, not with you spread out beneath him crying and wailing his name. Eren doesn’t think he can hold out much longer without filling you up, watching his cum seep out of you.

“Eren, Eren, Eren–” your nonsensical babbling has started to take the shape of his name, Eren can feel his ego swelling and swelling to the point of bursting. There’s a tone of warning in your moans; the onslaught of an orgasm is threatening to pull you under.

“Don’t you dare hold out on me,” Eren slaps your thigh hard, the tacky, wet sound of it echoing through the room, somehow finds the wherewithal to piston his hips even faster, “want to feel it, feel you cum on me.”

“I’m going to, I’m going– oh Eren–”

Eren practically snarls, leaning over to spit in your open, waiting mouth. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you–fuck–want your pretty cunt stuffed full of me? I’ll give you yours, just gotta cum for me and give me what’s fucking mine. Go on–”

Eren’s rambling is cut short by the loud, raspy sob you let out, clenching down around him so hard it almost hurts, drawing a loud, long hiss from him. He looks down past your quivering thighs, sees the frothy white that’s streaking his cock, and he’s done for. He grants you a few more sloppy thrusts, and then with one final snap of his hips, he stills, holding himself as deep inside as he can manage, pumping you full of him.

Before he can stop himself, Eren’s crashing into you, bringing your lips to his in a messy, frantic kiss, open-mouthed and teeth clacking together. He can feel your body shaking violently underneath him, rocking with wave after wave of post-orgasm bliss, but he can’t seem to break himself from you, collapsed and clutching onto your smaller frame like it’s the only thing tethering him to this earth.

“Eren,” you finally say weakly, voice muffled as you smack at his shoulder, “you’re heavy.”

“Sorry,” he grunts, rolling off of you reluctantly. Your crumpled, naked form is still there, still so tempting and soft and warm. Your eyes are shut, so you don’t see Eren’s tentative hand reach for your hip, just wanting to rub a thumb comfortingly over the bone there, before he pulls back, second-guessing himself. A few pregnant beats pass by, Eren biting his tongue and holding his breath as he waits for you to make the first move, to direct him into how to speak to you after what’s just happened.

“I need to shower,” you finally say, words coming out in a breathless admission.

“Yeah,” Eren answers lamely, sitting up and looking around your room. There’s postcards from almost every country imaginable, tacked above your desk and fluttering in the breeze from your heating system. The desk itself is a wreck, dozens of papers and books scattered around in seemingly no order. Eren notices a little stuffed teddy bear tossed onto the floor and picks it up with a smile, placing it back against your pillows.

“Are you…”

“Am I…?” Eren looks at you, hoping that his pleading gaze isn’t too horribly obvious.

“I think Historia will kill me if she sees you leaving in the morning.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Eren swears he can see something like regret fly over your face, and you turn your back to him instantly, scrounging around on the ground..

“I don’t know,” Eren wheezes through his shellshock, trying to force out a nonchalant chuckle that only sounds strangled and tense, “she’s pretty short. I don’t know how she could manage it.”

“You’d be surprised,” you slip a bathrobe over your shoulders and grant him a mirthless smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Eren dresses in the heavy silence that’s fallen over the room, pulling his shirt over his head and having to inwardly brace himself to face you. Eren’s comfortable with himself, probably knows a little too well that he’s an attractive guy, but he feels completely naked even fully clothed when he turns around to see you, standing all cozy and fucked out and sleepy in your fuzzy robe.

“So…” Eren trails off, wanting to smack his own face for speaking first.

“Have a good night, I guess,” you look up at him and then quickly away, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. Eren steels himself, lets every bit of courage he can find in his body rise to his mouth, forcing it to move.

“Are we, you know, good?”

“Good?”

“We said a lot of things to each other back there,” Eren can’t meet your gaze, can practically feel his face burning as he scratches anxiously at the back of his head. When he forces himself to look at you, there’s something odd and unreadable in your eyes. Are you sad? No, you’re smiling. Well, sort of smiling– it looks contrived, not real. But you’re not angry, not entirely.

“Yeah, I’m good if you are.” That stupid, insincere smile is still twisting your features.

Eren doesn’t like the look of dishonesty on you, but he’s fought enough for tonight. He’s sad, spent, and tired, and he figures it’s hopeless anyway.

“Okay, good,” he makes his way to your bedroom door, fingers twitching for the feel of your skin under his, eyes damn near watering, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with that, Eren’s left alone in the cold of your apartment hallway, alone and sickened by the feelings of satisfaction and longing swirling in his chest.

#eren #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x you #aot x reader #aot smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #much ado about nothing #much ado universe #much ado uni

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neroushalvaus · 5 months

Text

Tumblr in the 60s – Part 2

Part 1 / Deleted Scenes

💁🏼‍♀️brigittebardots Follow

anyone want to get fake married so i can get the pill to slut around

💋 marrymetwiggy Follow

Just say you have painful monthlies, I heard it works if you have a nice doctor!

💫 treatmetendermaureen Follow

Remember you still should use the sheet whenever possible. Stay safe ♡

1087 notes

♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow

i think there's something wrong with me, i'm just so sleepy all the time, it's not fair

👭 marvelettesofficial Follow

That's because you spend all your nights listening to radio luxembourg

♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow

i heard nothing last night so i built an antenna out of poultry net, iron wire and bits of tin. i cut my fingers and our family chickens ran away

☁️ ankin-vaimo Follow

A small price to pay for some music.

♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow

the antenna fell apart before the german guy stopped talking

34 notes

🗣 ilovejohnlennon-deactivated19660729

me: chilling

my brain: if you were shot and weren't sure whether you'd live or die should you call the cops to make sure your murderer gets caught or call the ambulance to increase your chance of survival

me: what

🗣 elviskneesofficial-deactivated19631119

There should be a number that'd reach both of those

🕺 elvisherselvis Follow

That number already exists. It's been used in my city for like a two decades.

🏆 petebest-or-bust Follow

🕺 elvisherselvis Follow

Fuck you I'm British.

🪛 patrickwhoghton Follow

Oh my G, this post from -62 sounds so prophetic now that they're trying to make the 911 thing catch on, where's that jagger meme

🖖 spock-in-tardis Follow

🕺 elvisherselvis Follow

This is literally not gift of prophecy. I told you back when this post was first made that this number has already existed in UK for years. It was obviously going to spread elsewhere, even US was bound to catch on at some point.

🏆 petebest-or-bust Follow

you are still here?? keeping an eye on this post??

💋 marrymetwiggy Follow

you're so grumpy @elvisherselvis maybe you should phone the emergency number and get a wahhh-mbulance

98,9 t. notes

📼 bisexualbarbaradane Follow

my date: Oh I listen to folk as well!

me: That's so cool! Who are your favourites?

my date: I'm sooo into Bob Dylan.

me:

my date: Is everything okay?

me, stuffing jelly babies into my purse: I have to go, like, right now, immediately, sorry

#it's okay if you liked dylan before he became the judas he is #but you can't call yourself a folk fan if you still support him #ugghh i hate him #electric guitar using lil bitch #sigh #jelly baby meme #bob dylan critical // #anti bob dylan // #bob dylan hate //

2 notes

🛸 premisendgame Follow

Cock and balls, I'm watching this previously banned american film where an american man is trying to fuck a soviet spy (played by famously very russian Greta Garbo) by offering her champagne and he is like "have you never had champagne?" and Greta is like "never 🥺 only goat's milk and a ration of vodka in the army" and the tv screen freezed and was like "ERROR!! CHAMPAGNE HAS BEEN SERVED IN SOVIET UNION SINCE 1936" I'm 😂😂😂

🪐 stalincredible Follow

You Americans will say anything to make Soviet stuff look silly

🛸 premisendgame Follow

Where do you think I am watching soviet tv from?? Or did I miss the memo where americans have the monopoly on joking about their own damn country??

322 notes

🥁 ringoforpresident Follow

"In future there will be telephones you can take with you anywhere" I can't even fucking listen to Radio Luxembourg without building a goddamn satellite, sending it to space, reciting spells and prayers, and sticking the radio out of the window at 2am EET. And even then it needs to be snowing for it to work because the radio wave fairies like snow or some shit

♒ let-the-sunshine-in Follow

preach

540 notes

#this probably won't be very popular because some of these are very niche but i had fun #is the radio luxembourg station being impossible to listen to an universal experience?#i feel like older people in finland have a permanent chip on their shoulder because listening to it was so hard #there is a possibility ninotchka is doing a little time travel here; i remember this corrected version was shown at some point #but it may have been later #anyway just enjoy the ride #tumblr in the 60s #1960s #dashboard simulator #fake dashboard #60s #unreality

238 notes · View notes

koqabear · 1 year

Text

Stuck With You

Song suggestion: What Is It About Her?

“Taehyun hates everything about you; your pride, your stubbornness, and the way you plague his thoughts with dangerous desires that threaten to break down his walls.”

king! Taehyun x fem! mage!reader

Genre: enemies to enemies (but like there’s a twist), royalty!au, angst, smut, fantasy!au

word count: 7.9K

Warnings: Tons of bickering, Taehyun is condescending, jealousy, they literally hate each other, so lots of anger and fighting, mentions of TH being abusive (isn’t actually, nothing happens), manhandling,

Smut warnings: hard dom!Taehyun, brat!mc, sub(?)!mc, dubcon(?) (omg what), hate sex wahhh, rough sex, manhandling, (again!! There’s a lot) degrading, name calling, (filthy, pathetic), biting, dry humping, binding wrists/hands, marking, knife play, breast play, unprotected sex, mocking, edging, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: Am I incapable of writing a story under 5K? It seems so. I was listening to this damn song the entire time I wrote this and omg I’m so tired of it but it also manages to encapsulate their relationship perfectly. Hope u guys enjoy Taehyun manhandling the shit outta the reader bc for some reason it just kept happening…. I think I need to self reflect for a bit.

Taehyun has never liked you.

You’re so fickle, a cocky eyesore that he can never seem to escape from— too smart, too wicked, tongue always sharpened to a point as you never knew when to avert your eyes; when to bow down to your Royal Highness.

He cannot fathom having to spend his waking days around you— yet, fate seems to punish him in such laughable ways.

“Your Highness,” he’s forced out of his thoughts as he is called, the title so familiar that the sound of his own name is starting to fade from memory, forced as a young child to take responsibility after his deceased father and become the person he is today.

His every move is practiced, careful, and familiar as he regards the faceless maid before him, not bothering to turn back around as he continues his morning walk. His robes brush against the warm earth, the wind around him bringing about the early signs of spring as it sings against his skin, cooling him down as the hurried steps of the maid follow before him.

“The mage is summoning you— I’m afraid it is important; she has summoned the royal court as well… they currently wait for your arrival.”

Taehyun’s steps cease beneath the graveled path. He says nothing, seemingly unaffected by the news as he nods his head slowly. The day was so beautiful, he finds himself thinking, chest heaving with a disappointed sigh as he turns to follow the servant.

But of course, you had to come along and ruin it.

✧ ✧

“Your Highness. This is not a joke.”

Taehyun supposes he’s bad at hiding his expressions, if the way you stare him down with fire in your eyes means anything. The conference room is stuffy with the number of people that send him curious stares, unable to fathom how he could not take the current news seriously.

“The Southern Kingdom is persistent with their threats of war— they truly believe we are the ones behind the massacre of their villages.”

“It’s a wonder how a kingdom survived for so long under such a stupid ruler, isn’t it?” Taehyun heeds no warning from your words, sighing as he looks out the window and observes the lovely day before him. “I might go hunting today, what do you think?”

Your hands that slam down on the wooden table startle everyone but him; you’re standing, eyes narrowed dangerously as you leer at him from the other side of the long, rectangular conference table.

“I think you’d be stupid to not act on these threats immediately.” You grit out, jaw clenched as you take in the way the King seems to be unbothered by your insults. He simply shrugs, sparing a glance to the head guard before he’s leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes as his hands remain folded neatly in his lap.

“Yeonjun,” he drawls, peeking at you through lidded eyes as he speaks, “what do you think?”

He doesn’t miss the way Yeonjun sits up in his seat in surprise, adam’s apple bobbing before he’s clearing his throat, gaze averted as he speaks to his King.

“Your Majesty,” he begins, a hand on his chest as he stares at the dark wood of the table, “I think it is best for us to clear our name. A war during these times would set back our countries drastically.”

Taehyun hums, nodding his head in recognition. “You’re right. I want you and a few of your men to investigate those villages; be discreet, I don’t want you to be traced back to us if you get caught.”

“Someone arrange a meeting with the Southern Kingdom’s royal mage— I must speak to them, it is urgent. And you,” it is no surprise when Taehyun’s eyes meet yours, pausing to regard your disgruntled state. “Stay. I must speak to you privately.”

There’s nothing you can do but grit your teeth and plant your stance as everyone scatters out of the room— afraid of the King’s anger, of the way his jaw clenches with annoyance. His eyes never leave yours, yet the heat that radiates from his gaze almost burns up the room, everyone’s gazes planted to the ground as they bow meekly to him before they exit.

It’s just you and him now; Unfortunately, you think, bracing yourself for another scolding from your arrogant King.

“That was no way to speak to your Ruler.”

It feels as though you’re on fire; it takes everything within you to compose yourself, fists clenched tightly behind your back as you narrow your eyes at his words. You hate it— you hate him with your whole being. The way he seems to be unbothered, tired eyes fluttering shut as he leans back in his seat, a deep sigh escaping him as his lips part tiredly.

“My Ruler only pays attention when you scream in his face, it seems,” you seethe, ignoring the way his eyes snap open to give you a cautioning glare, “he’s a very arrogant man.”

He huffs out a laugh, but there’s no amusement behind it all. Slowly, he stands, his robes fluttering with his movements as he looks down at you angrily— if there’s one thing that will always cloud his mind, it’s his pride.

This same pride prompts him to walk to you, dangerous and slow, warning you to tuck your tail and apologize; you’ll do no such thing, your gaze only sharpening more with every step he takes closer to you. You’re restless, resisting the urge to lash out again as your tongue sharpens against your teeth; lips screwed tightly together, jaw clenched as you wait for him to do something, anything— hit you, yell at you, dismiss you— but he does none of the sort, coming dangerously close to you as he observes you curiously.

It’s silent; you’re practically sharing the very air you breathe, both of you waiting for the other to break as you meet his gaze, refusing to look away for even a second.

Taehyun takes a moment to observe you; your eyes, angry and restless, sharp as they dig into his own. You’re tense, your body practically ready to shake as you keep your jaw clenched, lips pursed together as you hold back another nasty jab directed at him.

You’re like a puppy; all bark and no bite, unable to truly stand up to him in fear of treason— you need this job, your only source to provide for your family in the far-off village you came from. He could dismiss you, break you, watch as you beg him for forgiveness in fear of putting your family at risk— the idea is dangerously appealing to him, the thought of finally having you at his feet making his lips twitch in amusement.

Taehyun holds your life in his hands, and the realization of it sends a deadly lick of fire through his body.

“How cute,” he mutters, watching the way your brows twitch in anger at his comment.

“For a second, I almost let your words get to me.”

The comment does more damage than any other strike ever could— because for a second, Taehyun’s gaze almost softened, the smile that grazed his lips more frightening than any threat he could muster.

A sharp shiver wracks through you; bitterly, you realize that Taehyun managed to gain the upper hand over you once again.

✧ ✧

The first time he dreams of you, Taehyun is terrified.

He wakes up in distress, an ache forming between his eyes from the pure confusion and anger that overtakes him. He lets out a shaky sigh as he sits up, sinking back into the soft pillows of his bed; his whole body trembles, disoriented and in denial as he attempts to block out everything his traitorous mind conjoined up.

But it doesn’t work. His day is ruined, his mind flashing images of the scenario that manages to haunt even his waking hours.

In the morning, he makes his way to the garden; fresh air will do him good, he figures, the cool air and floral scent that drifts through the wind calming his beating heart. But then, his fingers caress the petals of his favorite roses— ruby red, the color stunning to his eyes— and he finds himself touching the velvet of your skin, your bare hips and warm thighs that encase him, alluring and soft as your precious lips are reddened and mischievous; swollen, begging for more as his teeth sink on the soft flesh like he was born to do so.

He’s quick to exit the garden after that.

His afternoon isn’t much better, his mood sour after dealing with countless meetings and petty problems— he’s exhausted as he leans back into his throne, a distraught sigh escaping him as allows himself to shut his eyes for just a moment— then he’s back to the dreaded memory of you, cute and pliant as you shift restlessly in his lap; your face flushed, hair and clothes a mess as you weakly beg for him to touch you, to please you.

The moment his name leaves your lips, whiny and desperate, is the moment he jumps up from his throne.

Taehyun.

The sound is so realistic, haunting his mind as the ghost of your whine echoes through his ears; it follows him relentlessly, leaving him in distress as he wonders what a dream like that could possibly mean.

By the end of the day, Taehyun feels as though he may lose his mind; he’s unable to stay in one place, his mind inevitably wandering back to you if he doesn’t find something that takes away his full attention. He’s a mess by the time he’s wandering the corridors, ready to go back to his room as his eyes land on the last thing he would ever want to see.

You’re so relaxed, a smile gracing your face as you converse with Hueningkai, one of Captain Yeonjun’s guards, the two of you so close and giddy that Taehyun can’t help but stop and watch.

He’s never seen you like this; he’s never bothered to either, but something about the way you lean into Hueningkai so closely, unafraid to enter his space as the two of you whisper coyly to each other, is enough to have Taehyun bristle up and walk away.

The emotion is ugly and dreadful as Taehyun shakes his head, a heavy huff leaving him as he beelines straight to his bed— the same bed where he had you under him, your breaths brushing his skin as you panted desperately for more; the very bed where he kissed you until his lungs burned, pressing you into the bedding until your bodies melded together.

Angrily, Taehyun resists the urge to abandon his bed and stay in another room; even now, you seem to haunt him ‘till his wit's end.

✧ ✧

The second time Taehyun dreams of you, he’s more frustrated than terrified.

He sincerely thought it had all been bad luck; his unfulfilled needs melting with his hatred for you, an unlucky concoction as his mind conjured thoughts unspeakable. It had all been nothing but a fluke he hoped, but as he stares out the window and into the scenery of his land, he can’t help but remember the way he had you pressed up against this very glass, his lips unrelenting against your neck as he whispered words that had you crying and begging for more.

As he writes to other kingdoms, he finds himself staring at his hands; the same ones that had a bruising grip on your hips, bunching up your garments as he pressed himself firmly against you— he can recall the way you melted under his touch, compliant and needy as you let yourself be ravished by him.

The you in his dreams doesn’t compare to the one that haunts his waking hours— only, in a much more horrid way, as he finds that his temper with you has decreased into something minuscule. He sees it in the way you tense when he so much as enters the same room as you, the rest of his servants sparing you a pitied glance before they duck their heads before him; afraid, meek, and unsure of what he may do to you or anyone who annoys him.

But even though his patience with you has withered thin, you still find it in yourself to whip him with such insults and humiliations, unafraid of the consequences as you continue to look Taehyun boldly in the eye.

He could have you disappear with a snap of his fingers— yet, time has ruthlessly shown him that you’re a more valuable asset than he once thought. No, he can’t get rid of you even if he wanted to— his mage, the best in the land and the only one that could ever manage to put up with him.

The thought of being stuck with you is vile.

✧ ✧

By the nth time he dreams of you, Taehyun firmly believes that it is no longer an accident.

You’re a mage— why didn’t he think of this sooner? The blood in his veins is coursing with fire by the time it all connects, his steps rough and brisk as he makes his way to the place where it all started; the dreadful doors of the meeting room greet him, cracked open to insinuate that someone opened them already.

You’re scared stiff when the doors slam open; whirling around, you’re left face to face with the very man you’d rather not be left alone with, the doors swinging back shut behind him. You’re nervous, a lump in your throat forming as the fire and anger you always find igniting when you see him dissipates, feeling as though water had been dumped on it.

That very water manifests itself as Taehyun; there’s something different about him, something serious in the way he stares you down, eerily silent and angry as he storms toward you. You feel a witty remark bubble up in your throat, but you’re forced to push it down as you take in the way he’s teeming with rage, unpredictable and unstable as he makes his way to you.

He towers over you, his robes furling around him as his hand presses firmly to your chest; presses against your heart, nervous and quick as he continues to walk, forcing you to stumble back from the brute strength he possesses— the air is practically knocked out of your lungs from how hard he pushes you against the wall.

“You did this,” he says, eyes narrowed in distaste as he takes in the way you look up at him in confusion, daring to feign ignorance that only angers him more, “you evil wench, how dare you do this to your King?”

Your eyes widen at his words; he can feel the way your heartbeat is unrelenting against his palm, your hand swatting him away as you grow defensive. The back of his hand stings from the slap, a fire spreading from the very place you touched him; he can’t help but cradle his hand close to his chest, offended at the way you disrespect him so, even when his warning gaze is searing onto your skin.

“You speak nonsense,” you spit out, brows knitting together as you look at him with pure offense, “for I have no idea of what you allude to.”

He can’t help but let out an incredulous laugh; even now that he has you cornered, you dare lie to him— even worse, he’s forced to step back, the images of the nights where he would dream of you flustered and pressed against the wall coming back to the forefront of his mind.

He can’t control himself, the carnal and disgusting thoughts plaguing his mind as rage fills his being; he’s backing away before he does anything drastic, the images flashing through his mind as a rough fist collides onto the table behind him. His eyes are shut tight, teeth gritted together as he seethes, ignoring the way you stand back, pressing yourself against the wall in confusion.

“This—“ he says, huffing as he opens his eyes, meeting yours before he can help himself— and there you are again, pleading for him to use you until he no longer can— “These cursed thoughts, you did this to me—!”

He feels weak in the knees as he looks at you, his mind running off to places they shouldn’t as he attempts to ignore the intrusive thoughts; you’re still, unsure of what to do as you watch your majesty slowly lose composure.

Jumping, you’re reduced to the very person you were when you arrived at the palace; meek, useless, and afraid as he runs to you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and tossing you around until your hips meet the back of the very table he was once leaning on; he’s leaning you back, your arms forced to support yourself as his fingers dig roughly into your shoulders, towering over you as he scowls menacingly.

“Undo this,” he says, exasperated and breathy as he becomes reminiscent of the nights when he would toss and turn in bed, forced to confront all of these imaginations that included you, pliant and needy under his touch. His eyes screw shut, teeth gritting together as he refuses to look at you, “undo this wretched spell this instant!”

His grip is bruising; you yelp at the way he shakes you, never seeing him this desperate and angry as a hand reaches up to push against his chest; but it’s useless, his strength outdoing yours easily as he growls at your weak attempt to run away.

“I’ve done no such thing—!”

“Don’t you lie to me!” He’s quick to cut you off, volume raising significantly as the adrenaline begins to course through both your veins, “I know you’ve done this, this disgusting spell that haunts my nights— how dare you attempt such a thing to your king, do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

“I’ve done nothing!” You scream, a sudden strength aiding you as you push against his chest with both hands, watching as he stumbles back harshly, his back colliding with the wall behind him— the sight is reminiscent of what he did to you moments ago.

“Have you lost your mind?!” You say, exasperated as you watch his hardened gaze, the way his fists shake with anger at his sides, “I’ve done nothing— yet you accuse me of such— such things that you don’t even dare speak of!

For a moment, there is only silence and the sound of your panting breaths; you hate the way your hands shake as you grip the edge of the table, gulping harshly as you take in the way he hasn’t moved a single inch.

“I know you hate me,” you huff, jaw clenching as you pause, regaining your composure before continuing, “but you’ve gone too far. This is low, your highness, even for you.”

“Low?” Taehyun echoes, disbelief on his face as he finally moves; he steps towards you, watching the way you begin to flee in retaliation, “you speak of being low?”

Predator and prey; you can’t help but feel as though this is all you’ve been reduced to, tense and careful as you make your way back to the door; he follows you, his pace matching yours as he allows you to inch closer to the door.

“What’s low is the way you haunt my dreams, calling out for me like you’d die if I wasn’t near you,” your heart is thundering in your chest, bewildered by his words as you find yourself right behind the door; you’re frozen, waiting for the moment he’ll let his guard down so you can slip out and run.

“You, you of all people,” he spits, as though the very words were fire on his tongue, “persistent—almost every night it would happen, haunting even my waking days as I was forced to turn the other way when I saw you in the corridors.”

You don’t care anymore; it’s reckless, but you bolt for the door, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you reach for the door handle— but Taehyun is faster, a hand clamping on your wrist and tugging you back as he uses you to slam the doors fully shut, the latches clicking as the wood knocks out the air from your lungs.

Taehyun presses against you; you’re like fire against him, and he finds himself thawed the moment he feels your body against his, the empty mold that came from his dreams as he finds his mind clouding dangerously.

“What’s low,” he hisses, tugging you closer as his hand grips your waist ruthlessly. He’s so close, you couldn’t avoid him even if you closed your eyes— you don’t dare to, the look in his eyes fatal as he traps you in the very spell he’s found himself in.

“Is the way you forced me to yearn for your touch.”

Any cruel words that were hanging precariously on your tongue quickly fade away; instead, Taehyun is kissing you with an angry passion, his hand cupping your jaw and pulling you close as he presses your body into the door. His lips are rough and ruthless as they take from you, prying you open and getting the taste that he only imagined in his dreams.

You’re left weak against him, your body automatically reciprocating as all the words left unsaid travel between the two of you. The hatred, anger, and confusion are interchanged, a groan escaping you as he bites down on your lip.

He’s rough, not sparing you for even a second as continues to take, unable to do anything else but enjoy the way you grow stupid against his grip, the kiss harsh and messy as you allow him to be the only thing holding you up. Your knees are weak, and if it weren’t for Taehyun pressing you harshly against the door, you would’ve fallen a long while ago.

He’s unable to hold himself back as he bunches up the fabric of your garments, bunching up your skirts before he’s able to press himself against you; the moan you let out is broken and weak, his robes fluttering around you as he smiles against your lips; your mind has emptied by now, the perfect vessel to let him satiate the need that plagued him after so many dreams— drool is beginning to form at the corners of your lips, and even as you tap Taehyun relentlessly, he refuses to pull away; day after day, he was forced to be around your excruciating presence while being forced to pretend that he couldn’t feel the ghost of your lips, couldn’t imagine the way you would sound when he hit a spot that drove you crazy.

His hips rut against you roughly; he’s unstoppable, messy moans harmonizing with your own as he reaches for your hands; his fingers lock around your wrists, bringing them up and slamming them against the wood as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust; he watches the way your face scrunches up, eyes fluttering shut as your body bounces up with him.

The sound you let out is akin to the ones in his dreams, leading him to believe that you’re nothing but a fox, a filthy liar that attempts to save face no matter what— and it angers him more, angers him enough to leave marks and bites along the column of your throat, your whines weak and soft as you flinch at his harsh touch; your wrists bounce against his hands in protest as he bites down on your skin, tongue running on it soothingly before he moves on.

Frustratedly, he’s met with the cloth of your top; clumsily, he gathers your wrists in a single hand— they’re above your head now, slammed against the wood so hard that you feel the backs of your hands tingling ruthlessly. His other hand fumbles with his pockets, your mind so clouded that you’re barely able to keep your eyes open for a moment.

You grow still the moment the tip of a dagger is pressed to the underside of your chin.

“Admit to me,” he says, breathy and frustrated as the blade pokes into your skin threateningly, “admit to me that it was you, that you’re the one who cast this spell on me— that you have been haunting my dreams.”

Even now, you shake your head in denial. But the last thing Taehyun will do is believe you, his teeth gritting together as he slices down; your mouth falls open, eyes going glassy as he cuts cleanly through the top you wear, the blade poking at your stomach as he releases your hands for just a second— long enough to slide your garments off, the fabric pooling at your feet as you’re left bare before your king.

“Why do you still deny me,” he mutters, the knife gliding against your skin comfortably— against all the places he’s felt, a carbon copy of his dreams as he takes in every detail of you; it’s all too much for him, the heated nights he spent with you in his dreams resurfacing in his mind as his dagger tucks itself under your bra, his hand resting on your hip as your hands fall weakly onto his shoulders; he’s pressing into you firmly, the wood cool against your skin as your forehead touches his; you sigh shakily, fingers digging into his shoulders as you close your eyes.

A sharp tug has you jolting into him, the knife slashing through the garment before it’s falling to the ground, the cool air against your breasts making you shiver.

Taehyun feels dizzy as he takes you in; his hands attempt to memorize you, as though you would disappear into smoke if he’s not careful enough. Slowly, his hands glide up; they encase your breasts, eyes eagerly taking in your facial expressions as his fingers carefully play with your nipples— it’s odd, the way he can already feel his body telling him what to do, how to please you as your mouth is falling open, your hands clinging to his wrists as he pushes himself closer to you once more.

Carelessly, his right-hand reaches down to grab your leg; he hoists it onto his waist, roughly pressing into you as you’re pressed flat against the door. Your head falls back, able to feel the way his cock is pressing directly against your slit, a shaky moan escaping you the moment he begins to rut his hips again.

“God— so soft…” Taehyun finds himself saying, a broken gasp escaping him as he allows his hips to take control. Your breasts bounce temptingly before him, his mouth latching onto the sensitive skin as he finds himself eager to hear the very same sounds that always echoed in his mind. He’s insatiable, groans leaving him as he sucks and bites, pretty fangs sinking into your delicate skin and leaving marks that he would make sure would last an eternity.

None of his dreams compare to this; to the sound of you so close to his ear, a shaky hand threading itself in his hair as you finally give in to the temptation and pull him back up for a kiss; you’re a mess of spit and tongue as you beg him for more, the pleasure fogging your mind as you pull him in restlessly.

A fire licks through his veins, the frustration you put him through suddenly resurfacing as he steps back— yet his hand remains firm on your hip, letting go of your leg and pulling you forcefully, spinning you around until you’re colliding with the table. He doesn’t stop there, a firm hand pressing down on your chest as he’s forcing you to lean back— his gaze is predatory and dangerous as he looms over you, situating himself between your legs as he allows himself to hover over you, glaring at you with such spite that you’d almost think he was getting ready to kill you— except, his fluttering touches that wander around your body speak otherwise.

“Filthy thing, haunting my dreams then feigning innocence,” he seethes out, slipping off his robes and tossing them aside; he’s undressing before you, his cock straining against the material of his undergarment as he looks at you with nothing but rage. Even then, you have the audacity to have confusion swimming in your eyes, helpless to the way he slides you back towards him, your hips pressing together as he lets out a sharp hiss; the sound you let out is enough to distract him for a second, desperate to hear it from you more.

“I’ve done— nothing!” You say, a cry escaping you in between your sentence as Taehyun thrusts into you roughly. He only seems to be annoyed by your response, his dagger caressing up and down your thigh as he looks at you in a warning.

“You’re a fool, and you’re afraid to admit that I’ve done nothing wrong,” you pant, your head spinning at the way the dagger scratches against your skin, the pressure applied coming and going as he tilts his head at your words; there’s no curiosity in his gaze, only anticipation that you’ll be stupid enough to finish your thought.

“And you’re afraid to admit that you’ve fallen for the very person you swore you hated.”

The response is immediate; he’s slicing through the measly fabric of your underwear, the knife clattering on the table as his hand shoots up to you instead— he cups your jaw, fingers gripping it closed as you glare at him, daring him to do something reckless.

“You plague my dreams,” he seethes, gaze full of hatred as his cock begins to rub against your folds; he’s leaking and desperate, able to feel the way you’re soaking wet for him despite barely being touched.

“I thought of you every night. You visited me, didn’t you, you sly thing?” His tip is prodding at your entrance, teasing you by only slipping it in before he backs out, fangs sinking into his lip as he stares at you like a predator who just caught his next meal, “you wanted me to cave in and visit you, to bring all those fantasies to life.”

“You’re a pathetic, weak little thing.”

It’s inevitable for you to let out a laugh at that; his fingers only dig into your cheeks in response, his jaw clenching as he stares at you like you aren’t even worth his time. Yet here you are accused of a crime you never committed, pinned under the king as he looks at you with pure, unrivaled hatred.

Smiling, you take him in carefully; his eyes, blown open with lust and frustration, his body that keens and bends to seek your touch— he calls you pathetic, yet is unable to let go of you for a second.

“Your Highness,” you whimper out, a teary gaze and quivering lip greeting Taehyun as tears bubble up at your pretty eyes. He can only feel another hot wave of lust course through him, leaning in closer to hear your pathetic pleas.

“I don’t specialize in love spells.”

He pulls away like a man that’s been burned; he scowls, only to find that your legs have already locked him in, a whiny moan leaving your lips as you urge him to enter you.

“Your Highness,” you whine, shivering at the way he slowly enters you, your hand reaching up for his nape; you cling onto him, bringing him back down as you allow him to hover over you, shaky breaths intertwining with each other as he stretches you out perfectly. You feel so full, so good, velvet walls clenching around him like a vice as he lets out a shaky sigh, head bowing down and resting by your shoulder, his forearms barely able to hold him up as you let out sweet sounds just for him.

“Your Highness, I’m so honored you think of me so much,” you cry, enjoying the way he tenses against you. There you go again— unstoppable even in the most uncanny situations, your annoying quips igniting his rage as his will to put you in your place is strengthened; straightening, he grabs onto your hips, fingers digging in and massaging the soft flesh as his eyes grow cold. Scanning your body, he’s still able to take in the way you’re flushed and needy, hips attempting to move subtly to gain stimulation from him.

His left hand leaves a bruising grip on your skin; if you think you won, you’re dead wrong.

“Honored…” he mutters, the knife pointed back at your throat as he bottoms out in you; his hips are pressed firmly against yours, but you’ve gone stiff, unable to ignore the dangerous pressure applied to your skin. Tilting his head, he tuts, his other hand reaching for the ribbon of his discarded robes; before you know it, you’ve been tied up, unable to move your wrist as they’re tied tightly together— Taehyun smiles, the pretty ribbon tied in a neat bow against your skin. The dagger is back against your throat as his right-hand guides your wrists above your head, his eyes twinkling as he takes in your weakened state.

“Yes. You should be.”

You can’t help the way you flinch as Taehyun raises the knife threateningly; your eyes screw themselves shut tightly the moment he’s bringing it down, the velocity so intense your heart stops for a second.

The sound of impact from the dagger is heard throughout the whole room.

A shuddering sigh leaves you— it’s sunk deep into the table, uselessly looking up as Taehyun’s condescending laughter reaches your ears; you try looking up to see where the dagger may have been placed, but it’s no use. Shifting, you go to move your wrists back down.

Only you can’t move them at all— they’re stuck in place.

Your lips are left open in surprise as Taehyun begins to fuck you with wild abandon, the need to have you a mess under him plaguing his mind as his hands grip onto your hips fiercely. He’s rough, relentless, and cruel as you cry out, unable to ignore the fire that ignites in your stomach as he brutally thrusts into you.

Your eyes are fluttering shut as the feeling of your body rocking to his thrusts makes your head spin, your hands clenched in a tight fists as you bring your arms close together; your eyes open in alarm, meeting his gaze as your arms brush against the sharp blade of the dagger, scratching your skin as he grins at you teasingly.

Taehyun doesn’t know how to identify the torrents of emotions that course through him; you look better than any dream he’s been haunted by, your eyes softened and filled with lust, your curves and skin warm under his palms as your thighs ensnare him, luring closer as your cunt only pulls him in more; the sounds of skin on skin fill the room, his needy sounds mixing with your own as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each rough thrust, his tip kissing your cervix and your skin blossoming with marks he inflicted onto you from rage.

You’re here under him, bound and begging for more. You’re so soft, intoxicating, and frustrating as he finds himself unable to keep his hands off you, his mind wandering to the countless images and scenarios he can finally fulfill with you.

You’re so warm and tight; Taehyun has to slow his hips as he feels the way you begin to keen and cry, your hips bucking up as your gaze meets his— it’s demanding, entitled yet still innocent as you’re brought closer to your high.

But he won’t allow you— not as long as you continue to deny him, to deny the way you’ve been calling for him from the very start. There’s something else, and he knows it; his body is eerily attuned to yours, able to tell what you’re feeling and how to please you from the very moment his lips crashed against yours.

“These dreams,” he pants, gritting his teeth as his nails dig into the delicate skin of your hips, “what do they mean— what have you done to me?”

“I told you— I’ve done nothing—!” The whimper that escapes you is weak and defeated as his hand encases your throat, leaving you lightheaded as his hips begin to roll curiously; it’s instinct, and Taehyun doesn’t know how he does it, but he’s quickly able to find the spot that has your mind emptying, bound hands thrashing above your head as you cry for more.

“What dreams?” You manage to say, exasperated as his hips still, the feeling of his thick cock pulsing inside you driving you mad and making you lose yourself. You’re truly clueless as to what Taehyun speaks of, your eyes struggling to remain open as his hold on you remains.

“Dreams,” he begins, his hand leaving you as you gasp for air— his hand trails down, caressing the column of your throat before his fingers tease along your chest, along your stomach before he finally finds his place at your clit; his fingers as teasing and calloused as they rub meticulous circles along the bud, the pace and pressure eerily similar to that of your own, knowing better than anyone how to pleasure yourself on nights where you dare to let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

“Dreams of you. Here, under me, just as you are now— begging for me to touch,” his hips are moving again, your brows furrowing as you bite your lip desperately, “to please.”

Leaning down, his lips hover over yours, his gaze one of pure fire as he pulls you closer to him, arms wrapping around your waist as he presses you tightly against him; chest against chest, the slight tug he does to bring you closer making the fabric of the pretty ribbon rip slightly.

“Dreams where you beg me to ruin you.”

His words are filthy as his lips are planted firmly against yours; desperate and rough as he doesn’t adhere to your pleasure, his cock filling you so nicely as the feeling of his body pressing against yours like a fire that continues to pull you in.

A small yelp leaves you as Taehyun grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as you’re forced to stare at the ceiling, his undeniably soft hair tickling your face as he proceeds to whisper things that make your blood run cold.

“You’re there, in my dreams as you beg for me to ravish you at any given moment,” he growls, unable to hold back the memory of it all as his frustrations pile up and tumble out through his tongue, “filthy little thing— in my gardens, the corridors, my bed.”

Your heart pounds at his confessions; your nails dig into the palm of your hands, the images jumping into your mind so vividly you’d almost think you lived through it all already.

“My throne,” he groans, biting at your neck as his hand wanders around your body.

“Begging me to touch you here,” his fingers ghost over the sensitive flesh of your breasts, “crying when I do this,” the sound that leaves you is inexplicable as he times a perfectly calculated thrust into your sweet spot, abusing the sensitive area as he watches the way you melt under him, just as expected as he finds himself scowling at you.

“Everything you begged me to do, I remember it perfectly,” he mutters, your eyes tearing up as you feel his fingers play relentlessly with your clit, “don’t you?”

You’re terrified of what this means; these dreams that have plagued you as well, a hidden and dirty secret you wished to hide more than anything. You remember it all, the way he pleased you like no other, able to read his emotions perfectly as you did the same; every day you were forced to live with the shame and denial of these occurrences, obligated to face him and pretend like you hadn’t been calling his name out desperately the night before— only, it seems he had done the same this entire time.

What could this mean? The possibilities swim through your head, yet you refuse to come to a conclusion as you feel the way Taehyun only grows rougher with you, still waiting for a response as he feels the way you grow needy and desperate for him.

It’s terrifying to see how attuned he is to you— because he’s quick to pull away just as you were about to be pushed over to the edge, left to be nothing but a sweaty and needy mess as you whine weakly for him to stop being cruel. You’re helpless, the slick feeling of your wetness spreading all through your inner thighs driving Taehyun insane as he watches the way you weakly struggle against your binds.

He’s doing no better than you— but he can control it, even as you clench tightly around him in futile attempts to bring him closer to the edge. Yet his voice is traitorous against him as he lets out a weak groan, unable to ignore the way his heart pounds harder at the sight of you, ruined before him.

“You know,” he breathes out, the realization dawning on him as he watches the way you refuse to meet his eyes. But in the end, you have no choice, your face grabbed as you’re turned roughly to look at Taehyun; his gaze is intense, as though he can read your thoughts as his eyes search yours, “Damn it, you know.”

“Tell me,” he says, desperate as you press your lips together firmly, your refusal to speak only angering him more as he sneers at you, “As your ruler, I command you to tell me.”

Shakily, your lips part— you’ve seen all this happen before, always feeling jealousy for others as you recounted every symptom, memorizing it all as you wished silently to have something like this for your own. But as you stare at Taehyun, angry and relentless as he waits for you to respond, you can’t help the way your stomach sinks with dread.

Taehyun is able to hear what you say without you having to form a single word— and it terrifies him, his body stiffening as he takes in what you tell him.

Soulmates.

It feels as though the fire in his heart has intensified; his body feels strange, heated and tingly as he stares at you, able to tell that you’re doing no better than him as you begin to breathe shakily.

Taehyun thinks this might be the worst outcome of all; despite his stubborn pride, his soul begs to get closer to you, begs him to move his hips and please you as you shift restlessly beneath him— even though he’s felt nothing but hate for you on the surface, deep inside he finds himself unable to resist you.

It infuriates him.

Stuck with you, he realizes, brows furrowing as he grips your hips tightly; he’s lost all control, allowing his soul and instinct take over as he watches the way you fall apart beneath him— it’s horrible, feeling the way his heart speeds at the way you desperately beg for more, attempting to cling to his facade he’s kept up for so long; these feelings he’s suppressed for so long, that he thought he was insane for having, were meant to be after all— he’ll never get rid of you.

“Fuck,” he stutters, gulping as his hands automatically go to keep you close, hips snapping ruthlessly into you as he finds himself addicted, your perfect sopping cunt bringing him back in and making him lose all control, “so… so good.”

It’s all falling apart; everything he worked so hard to keep up is tumbling down, out of his control as this new realization seems to tug his soul closer to you— he finds himself addicted, a curious thought nagging at him as he leans down to taste your swollen and bitten lips, the same that reminded him of the roses in his garden he so meticulously ordered others to care for.

He’s everywhere; his hands, his lips, his cock, so overwhelming in the best ways possible as you find your mind blanking out.

Soulmates, you think, eyes shutting tightly as he continues to fuck you into the table, rocking roughly as your arms become sore from their awkward position, soulmates… yes. You become more open to the thought, his touch suddenly intoxicating as it all becomes less than enough, the need to have him so impossibly close tugging at your mind.

“Say,” he starts, gulping roughly as he finds himself unable to concentrate, “Say my name. Call out for me.”

You’re in too deep; both of you are, breaching unknown territory as he hungrily waits for you to follow his commands. You’re unsure what to do, voice shaky and breathy as you finally muster the courage to call him by the only name you ever have.

“Your highness…” you breathe out, watching as he shakes his head in denial; he’s insistent, the sudden need to fulfill this very last memory that haunted him every waking second much stronger than before, his gaze piercing as he hovers over you, lips brushing against yours as he mutters quietly.

“My name.”

It’s instinct, your eyes meeting his as you feel your high approaching, intense and heavy like a wave as you arch your back, pressing firmly into him as your eyes shine with tears, as though you could melt into one soul if you tried hard enough.

“Taehyun.”

The name feels like an aphrodisiac on your lips; Taehyun must feel the same, for he finds himself crashing down at that, the sound of your sweet whine not comparable to the pathetic echoes that faintly haunted him during his waking days. He’s a shaky, shuddering mess as he allows himself to kiss you through it, continuing to fuck you even though he fills you with countless spurts of his hot cum. You groan, thighs shaking as you feel the way his pelvis rubs onto your clit, still managing to bring you to the edge as you clench around him tightly.

Your moans mix into each other, bodies pressed so tightly together that you don’t know where he ends and you begin; it’s strange, the way you feel so at peace even as he overstimulates you, hips rocking relentlessly with every broken moan of his name you let out.

You can’t get enough of it— it feels like candy in your mouth, the feeling of him smiling slyly against your lips alarming as the weight of everything begins to weigh down on you. It seems like hours before Taehyun finally straightens, watching as a ring of his cum has formed on his shaft, a weak groan escaping him as he takes in the way your inner thighs are painted with it prettily.

Slowly, his hungry gaze meets yours; then he remembers everything, jaw clenching as he wonders just how this all came to be.

He hates it, the way his heart calls to you despite the frustration that consumes him when he looks at you— he hates the way you make him feel weak; even now that you’re bound and left at his mercy, you don’t seem to realize the way you have him wrapped around his finger.

He gulps, the lump in his throat heavy as he watches your pretty eyes, all glossy and fucked out, much better than anything he could have dreamed of as he feels his cock twitching inside you once more.

Everything he ever feared came true— it seems you’ve become his fatal weakness.

His soulmate.

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